So, This Is What You Meant When You Said Their Powers Are Going To Be Explained Next Chapter. Now I’m

So, this is what you meant when you said their powers are going to be explained next chapter. Now I’m assuming it’s only ateez that has powers unless somehow other groups have them.

This definitely is a twist I wasn’t expecting i’m very excited to see what happens. <3

| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter Two

Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x female!reader

Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.

Warnings: mxm relationship, death, murder, mentions of being burned at the stake, tragic backstory, violence.

WC: 2k

Amazing Help: @potatomountain

AU: Mafia/?

Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

Tags: Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx @kitten4sannie tags to be continued.

A/N: This series isn’t what you thought it’d be huh? Hehehe

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500 years ago, Kim Hongjoong stumbled upon a dirty and old shrine. Bruised, bloody, and broken.

He begged the silent deity for help, tears cascading down his nearly broken jaw. A miracle he could still talk. His broken fingers dropped all of the coins he had to offer onto the shrine. He continued to beg for help and prayed to the God but he got no answer.

His body could no longer sustain his energy and he collapsed onto the wet ground. Hongjoong knew this was the end and he didn’t want to die like this.

Hongjoong let out one more scream before the light faded and he passed out from his injuries. No longer able to stay present.

To die for loving the wrong person. He would never change it, even if this was his death.

The deity appeared out of thin air and stared down at the almost corpse on his sacred ground. He couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Humans and their violence. Wake up, boy. I will not have you die on my holy shrine.” The deity pressed two fingers to Hongjoong’s head and he awoke with a gasp for air.

“You..Thank you.” Hongjoong tried to sit up but his ribs and other miscellaneous injuries screamed at him to stop. How he is still alive is baffling. The deity thought of him as a fighter for surviving this long with the extent of his injuries.

“Why have you come to my shrine, why do you seek my help, human?”

“Because I don’t want to die. I need to live for Seonghwa, but his family won’t let me see him anymore. They’re the reason I’m like this. They tried to kill me but I got away.” Hongjoong was able to sit up with the help of the deity, who only frowned at his words.

“Love? That’s a strong reason to fight for your life.” He admired that. A lot. He missed his love life.

“Do you want revenge, human?”

“What? I- I..yes. I do. I shouldn’t be tortured or killed for loving another man.” Hongjoong truly loves Park Seonghwa of the noble Park family. He hated Seonghwa’s face and screams when he was getting the shit beaten from him.

Hongjoong hated the Park family for trying to kill him in front of his lover. He wanted them dead. He wanted to steal away Hwa and live in the mountains away from the rest of this cruel humanity.

“Very well. I can feel your anger, human. I will grant you your revenge but it comes at a cost.” The deity crossed his arms before speaking once again, “You must take my powers and my status. You will be a God instead. Only then I’ll finally be free of this torture of living forever.”

Hongjoong was confused, “Wait, you’re willing just to give up everything? For me?”

“Believe it or not, I was once in love just like you. I was born a God, they were born a human. It was agony watching them die and I’m ready to be with them. But you must take it from me.” The deity held out his hand, a glow emitting from it. It was so inviting.

Hongjoong furrowed his eyebrows before quickly grasping the deity's hand. A scream emitted from their longs as the power was transferred to Hongjoong.

Nothing else was said as the deity faded into nothing but dust.

Hongjoong could feel the power coursing within him. Each wound and broken bone was immediately healed and he felt a strange sense of longing. He knew it was for his lover down in the village. He could only hope he was still alive and not locked up in a cell by his family. Or worse, being forced to marry someone very fast.

Hongjoong didn’t care. He was going to kill them alone and take Seonghwa away with him.

One quick flash and he was standing in front of the Park residence. The guards screamed at him and ran towards him to finish the job they tried to do earlier. They failed and were flung to opposite sides. Hongjoong made them disappear as if they never existed and marched his way in, blasting the doors open with just an open palm.

Screams were heard from inside. Good. They should be scared.

“You! How are you still alive!” It was Seonghwa’s father. No matter, he was swiped against a wall with a flick of a wrist.

“Peasant.” Hongjoong spat at the man’s now broken body.

Seonghwa’s mother screamed in absolute horror, “Geo-“ Dead. Hongjoong broke her spine with yet another gesture.

Seonghwa’s older brother ran out to be by his dead parents and to fight Hongjoong. It was pointless. Hongjoong killed him too. Nothing was going to stop him from finding his lover.

“Seonghwa?” Hongjoong called out as he stepped over multiple corpses. He ripped his bloodied hanbok and threw the pieces to the ground, they were pointless.

He couldn’t find Seonghwa anywhere. Fuck. They must’ve locked him up. That angered him much further. Hongjoong left the residence ablaze once he stepped out of the threshold. Villagers who saw the massacre stayed out of Hongjoong’s way. Now terrified of the man.

A good choice.

The new deity made his way to the village's cells. Once he gets his man, this whole town will be gone. He wasn’t going to leave anyone alive. Not after they all sat around and let Hongjoong and Seonghwa be separated.

With the cells in site, the guards were slaughtered and he burst open the gates, each criminal ran out of their cells in fear but Seonghwa remained. He knew his lover came back for him. He didn’t care how.

Seonghwa was just happy Hongjoong was alive.

“Hongjoong!” The noble ran out of his cell and into Hongjoong’s arms, “How are you alive?”

His lover only laughed, “I’ll tell you later, for now we must leave this place. We don’t belong here.” Hongjoong kissed Seonghwa with such fever that he refused to separate for several moments.

They left the village hand in hand. Hongjoong didn’t even bother to look back when he set everything ablaze, leaving nothing to save itself. He got his revenge and much more. Nothing was going to separate them ever again. Ever.

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa, both now immortals, faced the earth and its challenges together. They hid in the mountains away from the humans to maintain their happiness and peace. Hongjoong had gave Seonghwa powers to protect himself. Powers that matched their invisible tie to each other. He honed abilities from the planet. Elemental.

Seonghwa maintained a garden that he took care of with his new powers. The animals in the forest kept him company when Hongjoong had to leave to Deity Overworld, now that he’s a god.

One day, Seonghwa heard a blood curdling scream and chanting coming down the mountain. Hongjoong was gone so that couldn’t be him.

Seonghwa set down the white rabbit in his lap and marched down the hill, carefully treading.

Once he made it past the clearing, he found a big man strung up to a post, men and women surrounding it with torches. Seonghwa knew what it was immediately. A witch trial.

Humans are so cruel to anything different.

Just as they were about to light him aflame, Seonghwa cleared his throat, “I suggest you let him down or there will be consequences. I don’t take innocent bloodshed lightly.”

The people whipped their heads toward the newfound voice, “Excuse me? How dare you threaten us. Are you a witch too?” A man poked Seonghwa’s chest with a pitchfork.

He didn’t like that. Without moving, the ground swallows the man whole, “Anyone want to go next?”

The humans screamed in fear and ran away, not wanting to die.

The man on the post had been crying, thankful to be saved. Why did he have to be scorned for practicing a non harmful craft?

“It’s okay, I’ve got you now.” Seonghwa cut the ropes that held the man high, “Careful.” He caught him as he fell, “What’s your name? I’m Seonghwa.” A beautiful smile stretched his cheeks as he kept the man warm.

“Yunho. Jeong Yunho. Thank you for saving me. I’m forever in your debt.” Yunho’s large hands grasped Seonghwa’s in desperation, “I don’t know how to even begin to thank you.”

Seonghwa shook his head, “You don’t need to. What the humans are doing is harmful. You don’t deserve to die, Yunho. Come with me. I’ve got somewhere to keep you safe.”

“Um, Seonghwa, who is this?” Hongjoong appeared from a mist into the living room, confusion smeared on his features.

Yunho jumped, nearly screaming in his spot, still jumpy from earlier.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Seonghwa was quick to comfort the big man, “This is Yunho, he was about to be burned at the stake for witchcraft..I just couldn’t let that happen.”

Hongjoong melted at his words. One of the many reasons he fell for Seonghwa. His selflessness and care for others beside himself.

“I see, well, make sure he has somewhere to stay warm and rest. I’m sure it was stressful.” Hongjoong smiled and walked to his bedroom, exhausted from traveling between worlds.

Yunho smiled to himself and held the blanket close to his body, “You two are very kind. Thank you for the hospitality.”

“So, tell me, Yunho. Do you have anyone?” Seonghwa carefully sat beside Yunho, caution on his features.

“Ah, no. I don’t. It’s just me. I suppose that’s why it was so easy for me to be found by those villagers.” He could never return to his home. Not if he wanted to live.

“Well, I have a proposition for you then, Mr. Yunho, how would you like to live forever without having to worry about being burned alive?” Seonghwa offered with such nonchalance.

Yunho was in shock. What was he saying?

“Huh?”

“Look, Hongjoong and I are immortal. Hongjoong is a god and he gave me immortality to be with him forever. I want to give you that now. I know you could use it for the good in your heart.” The former noble was serious in every sense, “Of course, I’d have to talk to Hongjoong but I want to give you that offer.”

“I just thought you were also a witch honestly.” Yunho laughed.

“Well, no, but still.” Seonghwa stood back up, “I’ll let you think about it but I’m going to go speak to Hongjoong about this.”

“You’re an immortal now, how do you feel, Yunho?” Seonghwa grinned, Hongjoong’s arm around his waist.

The new immortal couldn’t help but cry as fire emitted from his palms, “I..I’m so happy.” Of course the fire was a bonus. Now he could make everyone pay that tried to burn him alive.

“Be careful with that ability, Yunho, I know what you’re thinking. I can hear everything. If you do not tread my warnings carefully, I can take it all from you without breaking a sweat. So don’t test me.” Hongjoong was stern but he knew Yunho wouldn’t break his trust. It was like he had a golden retriever that followed his every demand and order.

After all, this was just the beginning of a big tale to come.

“I will, thank you, Hongjoong.”

The three men would continue to live in harmony for decades. In peace and tranquillity. They never had to worry about another human trying to kill them and Hongjoong helped Yunho and Seonghwa hone their abilities. He was going to shape them into beasts. A small army if you will.

Nothing was going to stop him from being who he was meant to be.

They lived their lives on a pirate ship that sailed the ocean, that Hongjoong had stolen, becoming the new feared pirate crew for years to come.

He had to grow this team and he had to use the abilities he was given.

Yunho made them a fourth member. A living doll but with a human body. His name is Kang Yeosang and he’s another immortal. His abilities are unknown as he’s still getting accustomed to being a living doll. Made from dark magic.

Again, this was only the beginning for this forming team.

They’re only going to get stronger.

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

strangers by nature | ii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.4K Warnings: mingi being a mean brat, puppy antics, swearing, hints of infidelity, slight angst

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A hollow laugh escaped Mingi as he sped through the empty streets, the night blurring around him. The bitter sound echoed in the car, mirroring the anger swirling inside him. He could still see the look on your face, that fierce, unyielding defiance in your eyes as you’d confronted him without a trace of hesitation.

"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”

You hadn’t raised your voice, hadn’t even looked angry. But the certainty in your words had cut deeper than anything he could remember. You’d said it so effortlessly, without a shred of remorse or regret, like you hadn’t given his ego a second thought.

And it infuriated him.

Mingi was accustomed to people bending to his will, not challenging it. His life had always been cushioned by entitlement; his family’s wealth and influence ensured that. People smiled, nodded, and let him have his way—whether it was his colleagues, teachers, or anyone who understood the weight of the Song name. When he wanted something, he got it; when he didn't want something, someone else made it disappear. Life was simple, easy. Predictable.

He’d assumed you’d be no different. The arrangement your parents had orchestrated was supposed to be convenient, uncomplicated. You’d go along with it quietly, play your part, and leave him to live as he pleased.

But he’d been wrong. Terribly, wrong.

From the moment you entered his life, you were a force to be reckoned with—unyielding and resolute, unafraid to show how little you cared for the life planned for you.

News of your attempted escape had reached him before he even saw you. You’d made it as far as the airport, ticket in hand, your heart set on a life free from the restraints of duty. But then, your parents intervened, having anticipated your plans. They’d sent the authorities to intercept you at the gate, dragging you back home just as freedom was within reach.

You argued, you bargained, and you did everything short of bolting a second time as they walked you into that boardroom on your wedding day. Mingi had been there, watching as you approached, and even in that moment, you’d made it clear through your narrowed gaze and rigid posture that you were entering this marriage under protest.

Though you resisted the marriage and all it represented, you held a deep sense of empathy for him, understanding that he too was bound by this fate. Your efforts to extend an olive branch and build some semblance of a friendship, only served as a reminder of how deeply entangled your lives had become against his will.

And Mingi always made it clear that no matter how much you tried to extend kindness or bridge the distance, he was set on tearing it down.

When your parents organized a small birthday dinner for you, Mingi didn’t even bother to show. He didn’t call, didn’t text—he simply forgot. The sting of his absence felt like a gut punch, even if it was hardly surprising. His indifference when you mentioned it later was almost worse.

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” he shrugged, barely glancing up from his phone, his tone cool, unaffected. The casual dismissal in his voice, the complete lack of apology, was almost worse than his absence itself.

The implication was clear: your birthday, and by extension, you, were not significant enough to be remembered.

It wasn’t until later, when meeting your cousin Jongho for lunch, that the truth hit even harder. Apparently, he’d heard from a friend of a friend that Ahri had posted on social media about her “spontaneous Tokyo getaway” with Mingi, complete with photos of their cozy seats on a private plane and playful captions flaunting their lavish trip.

Then, there was the night San hosted his charity art auction, one of the biggest events of the year. It was the kind of evening meant to bring people together for a good cause, filled with artists and patrons, all of them dedicated to supporting the community.

But Mingi had a different idea in mind. He arrived with Ahri, both of them looking effortlessly stunning and either blissfully unaware or fully conscious of the painful message they conveyed. Your in-laws were mortified, apologizing to you profusely, trying to smooth over the spectacle their son had created.

“When will you grow up and stop making a mockery of our family?” Mr. Song fumed through gritted teeth.

"I thought we had a deal," Mingi replied coldly. "All I had to do was agree to this arrangement, and I could still have Ahri and live my life however I wanted."

Mr. Song’s face tightened with rage, his voice a low growl as he struggled to keep it down.

“What I meant, Mingi, was for you to show some tact! Not to flaunt Ahri around and humiliate your spouse in front of everyone. It’s childish, and it reflects poorly on you. The least you can do is respect Y/N!”

“Respect Y/N?” Mingi scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Respecting her would mean pretending it’s something real. But we all know why this is happening—more money and more power for you. None of this has anything to do with me or what I want.”

“You may resent it, but you are benefiting from it all the same. And that means you owe Y/N some basic decency, if nothing else.”

“This arrangement took my choices away. It trapped me in a life I never wanted. And now you’re telling me to be grateful for it? To pretend that this marriage means something to me?”

“When will you stop being selfish and think about others for once? Consider that Y/N never asked for this either.”

As if disregarding you in private wasn’t enough, Mingi took every chance to publicly humiliate you, constantly reminding you of your place—always on the outside, looking in.

The situation reached a boiling point at last year’s Gold Gala when he arrived completely drunk, blatantly reinforcing that your feelings and the event's social grace meant nothing to him.

As he staggered through the hall, his laugh rang out too loudly, drawing stares from guests who exchanged uncomfortable glances. His gestures grew more careless and exaggerated with every passing moment, completely oblivious to the hurt on your face, tainting one of the most important nights of your life.

“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts.”

“I’m not here to support her, she begged me to be here. Begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”

By the time you arrived home, the tension was suffocating. You could still feel the embarrassment, lingering on you like a second skin you couldn’t escape.

“Don’t kid yourself into thinking this arrangement means anything. You're nobody to me.”

"Of course I know that!” The words flew out before you could stop yourself, raw and jagged. “All I asked was for you to be there because this event meant everything to me. Everything!"

"I thought we could at least be civil, Mingi.”

“Civil?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with disdain. "You’re so desperate to play house, to fool yourself into thinking I’ll somehow feel something for you? By begging for it?"

His gaze was cold, dismissive, as if you were nothing more than a stranger who had intruded into his life, uninvited.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer audacity of his words. Who was this pompous prick, standing here acting as if you’d imposed your existence on him? The last thread holding your patience snapped, and before you knew it, a dry, humorless laugh escaped you.

“Feel something?” you spat, unable to hold back the fury building in your chest.

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re a catch either. Think whatever you want,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unwavering, “but I’m not the one who needs someone else to validate my worth!”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, his expression shifting as he tried to brush off your words with a sneer. But you could tell that something you’d said had struck a nerve.

“You’ve never cared about anything, Mingi. You don’t even know what it means to care about someone or something—because you’ve always had everything handed to you. There’s nothing that’s ever been meaningful to you because you’ve never had to fight for it!”

It infuriated Mingi—the way you exposed all the things he hated most about himself, holding a mirror up to the person he tried so hard to ignore. And that was something he couldn’t allow. He needed to keep you at a distance, to shut you down.

Because if he didn't, he feared you might penetrate his defenses entirely—and he couldn't risk that.

As he sat in the warm, soapy water, Mingi’s tiny paws barely poked out from beneath a cloud of bubbles. He lifted a paw, watching droplets fall into the water, creating soft ripples that lapped against his sides. It was surreal. He had once scoffed at the very idea of being anything less than in control, of ever letting himself be so openly…helpless.

Everything looked bigger, more intimidating from down here and he felt smaller, more than he ever had.

Your gentle laughter pulled him back as you poured a bit more soap into the bath, sending a fresh wave of bubbles his way. You dipped your hand into the water, playfully scooping up the suds and sprinkling them over his head.

He wiggled, instinctively shaking his head as the bubbles landed, but they clung stubbornly to his nose and ears, making him sneeze. The tiny sneeze seemed to amuse you even more, your laughter ringing out, warm and unguarded.

“We’ll find something for you to eat after this. Do you like chicken?” you cooed, your voice warm and sweet as you continued fussing over him. “That reminds me, we need to stop by the pet store.”

Mingi blinked up at you, the sound of your voice oddly comforting, even as it filled him with a peculiar ache he didn’t quite know what to do with. Here you were, utterly unaware that this tiny, scruffy puppy was your own husband, yet you treated him with a care and tenderness he felt he didn't deserve.

“I should probably think of a name for you,” you murmured thoughtfully, rinsing away the last bits of sudsy bubbles.

His little face scrunched up as he shook his head, sending droplets flying. You grabbed the softest towel, bundling him up so that only his nose and eyes peeked out. Placing him on the bathroom counter, you noticed how his tiny body almost disappeared within the towel’s folds, leaving just a pair of adoring eyes staring up at you.

“You’re so tiny, you might get blown away!” you teased, testing the warmth of the hair dryer on your wrist. His expression turned into the cutest scowl imaginable, as if he was about to bark out a protest.

I’m not little! Mingi gritted, scrunching his tiny brows and squirming as if to show you he was tougher than he looked. He let out a bark, to prove you wrong.

“Alright, sorry, I didn’t mean it,” you giggled.

You began to gently dry him, moving the warm air over his fur. His eyelids started to droop, each puff of warm air lulling him into a sleepy daze.

“Pom Pom’s a cute name. What do you think?” you mused with a laugh, scratching him behind his tiny ear. Mingi managed to huff out a small whimper in protest in an attempt to communicate that you certainly were not to call him by that name.

“Fine, fine. How about…Maro? You’re white and fluffy like a marshmallow?” You tilted your head, smiling as you gently tapped the tip of his nose.

Mingi grumbled, feeling his pride melt under the sheer humiliation, but he went along with the name. Despite his desire to resist, he couldn’t deny the comfort of being doted on—even if it meant accepting his temporary fate as your “Maro.”

Mingi stirred awake, feeling an unfamiliar warmth against his tiny body, the soft texture of grass beneath him. Blinking his eyes open, he was met with a new world—everything was…bigger. The trees stretched toward the sky, and the distant hum of city life felt overwhelming. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his mind struggling to adjust to this small, delicate form.

Everything smelled sharper, richer: the earthy scent of wet grass, a faint whiff of antiseptic, and…something achingly familiar, pulling him forward as if his paws moved on their own accord.

Guided by the scent, he scrambled over roots and pushed through damp bushes, his little body squeezing through the brambles. As he finally emerged on the other side, he froze. Just a few feet away, sitting alone on a bench, was the source of the familiar scent—Y/N?

His wife sat there, hands clasped tightly, her gaze distant and tired, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. But just as he took another small step forward, her eyes lifted and fell upon him. Her expression brightened, and the faintest hint of a smile warmed her face as she crouched down, reaching out to him.

“Puppy!” she gasped with an excitement that Mingi could feel down to his little paws. She beckoned him closer, and he trotted toward her, heart racing, wondering if somehow, even in this form, she could recognize him.

You held him close as you left the hospital, your hand gently supporting his back as he rested against your chest. Once you reached the car, you eased into the driver’s seat and settled him in your lap, feeling his soft fur beneath your fingers as you stroked him reassuringly.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your contacts until you reached your mother-in-law’s number. Taking a steadying breath, you hit the call button, hoping she’d understand your exit.

"Hello? Everything alright, Y/N?"

“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading home,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “There are a few things I need to take care of, but I’ll make sure to call later to check in.”

There was a brief pause on her end before she answered, “Of course, dear. Take your time, I’ll talk to you later.”

As you ended the call, Mingi blinked up at you, feeling strangely vulnerable in your arms. Being held and cherished like this was both comforting and overwhelming, a rare moment of intimacy that left him feeling exposed. The realization that someone could care for him so deeply stirred something inside him—a reminder of just how unfamiliar this feeling was, and how unsettling it felt to let someone in.

“Ready to go home?”

On the drive back, you hummed a quiet tune, the same one you always sang absentmindedly when you thought no one was listening. As he nestled into your lap, he felt himself relax, leaving behind a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in ages.

The bell above the pet store door jingled as you stepped inside, your eyes scanning aisles lined with every kind of pet accessory imaginable.

You wandered the aisles in a daze as Mingi, in his puppy form, bounced excitedly, his tiny tail whipping back and forth with unrestrained enthusiasm. His instincts urged him to sniff and mouth every item you tossed into the cart—toys, treats, leashes, a bed, and a sweater.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief—shopping for puppy supplies while your husband’s life was hanging by a thread was surreal.

“Your puppy’s really cute.”

You turned to see a man holding onto the leash of a doberman that looked every bit as sharp as its owner. The dog sat obediently by his side, dark eyes focused and alert, muscles taut beneath its sleek coat. The man’s presence was striking, especially with his stoic demeanor that made him appear almost statuesque.

“Thanks!” you nodded, smiling. “He’s really sweet, even if he’s got a bit of an attitude.” Your eyes drifted to the gentle way his hand stroked between the doberman’s ears.

“You look like you know what you’re doing, though.”

The man chuckled. “Thanks, he’s actually my first dog. I adopted him when his previous owner passed away. His name is Hetmon.”

Your expression softened. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied sympathetically, kneeling down to greet him.

“Can I say hi?” you asked, extending your hand for Hetmon to sniff.

The doberman’s wet nose pressed against your palm, and he let out a soft huff before nuzzling his head into your hand. You laughed, scratching him behind his ear, marveling at his calm and steady temperament.

Now, hold on! Mingi’s eyes snapped up as he watched you fawning over this stranger’s dog. His little heart thudded, an unfamiliar surge of irritation bubbling up inside him.

Why are you smiling like that? Why are you speaking to another man? Get away from him!

He let out a little growl, then puffed up his tiny chest and erupted into a string of yappy barks, standing tall on his hind legs in the cart. His little nose scrunched up as he tried to look intimidating, but it was more endearing than anything else. You glanced over, bemused, as he glowered with all the fierceness his tiny form could muster.

“I think your puppy is upset,” the man pointed out with a chuckle.

“Aww, don’t worry, Maro,” you cooed, “you’re still my favorite.”

You scooped him up, planting a kiss right between his ears, which sent his little tail wagging against his will. You set him down gently on the floor, letting him meet Hetmon face-to-face. Mingi’s bravado wavered slightly as he looked up at the towering Doberman, but he squared his tiny shoulders, refusing to back down.

“Is Hetmon good with other dogs?” you asked, watching them carefully.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a total softie,” the man reassured you. “He may look tough, but he loves making new friends.”

As if on cue, Hetmon dipped into a playful bow. Mingi froze, watching the giant dog before him as he lowered his head in an exaggerated invitation to play. For a moment, the puppy tried to keep his air of superiority, giving a tiny huff as if he wasn’t the least bit interested.

But then he gave a low, friendly woof and Mingi’s puppy instincts kicked in. He took a tentative step forward, then another, his own tail starting to sway. Before he knew it, he pounced forward with his little paws outstretched, mimicking Hetmon’s play bow.

“Maro, you made a friend!” you cheered, watching in delight as the puppy bounced around with the older dog. Pulling out your phone, you couldn’t resist capturing the moment, captivated by the unlikely friendship forming before you.

“Looks like opposites attract,” Hetmon’s owner mused as he watched the two dogs circle each other, darting forward and bouncing back and forth.

“I’m Yeosang, by the way,” he added, turning to you with a friendly smile.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Nice to meet you. Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, just a couple of streets over,” Yeosang said with a nod. He looked down at Hetmon, who was now reclining on his back, seemingly unfazed by the puppy climbing on him.

“What about you?”

You smiled, watching the scene with amusement. “Same. Maro’s also my first dog, so I’ve been figuring things out as I go.”

Yeosang’s expression softened, his smile encouraging. “I remember that feeling. It’s a little overwhelming at first, but you get the hang of it. If you ever need any advice or a friendly ear, just reach out. There’s a park nearby that’s dog-friendly. I usually go there in the mornings if you’d like to join sometime.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks.”

Yeosang's easygoing grin faltered as he felt a tug at his shoelace. He looked down to see the tiny pup gnawing determinedly, jaws snapping at the string.

How dare you speak to her so casually! She’s a married woman! Mingi seethed internally, giving the string another sharp tug. Why did it bother him so much to see Yeosang chatting with you? He hadn't cared much about you before, but seeing you smile at another man so naturally baffled him.

What is wrong with me? He let out a low growl—though intended to be intimidating—would have been menacing if he weren’t so tiny. Right now, all he wanted was for Yeosang to take a step back, to stop talking to you like you belonged to anyone else but him—even though he couldn't say why.

“Maro, what are you up to?” you laughed, crouching down to pick him up. You slipped your hands beneath his belly, lifting him gently. But Mingi wasn’t done making his point.

Nestled in your arms, Mingi twisted slightly, nudging your left hand insistently with his head. He pressed his nose right against your ring, his puppy eyes wide with urgency.

See this? She’s taken! He gave a little huff and looked back at Yeosang with the tiniest scowl he could manage.

Yeosang, oblivious to the true intentions behind the pup’s actions, chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s tired. Puppies need lots of sleep, you know.”

“Sounds like someone needs a nap,” you agreed, gently setting the little ball of jealousy back into the cart.

"Oh, before I go," Yeosang continued, reaching into his pocket, "here's my number."

Mingi’s ears perked up, and his tail stopped wagging immediately. If he could talk, he’d be grumbling a thousand complaints. But instead, he glared up at Yeosang, hoping his intense puppy stare would get his message across: Back off.

⋆

The last twenty-four hours had been nothing short of a whirlwind: the accident, waking up in a completely different form, and now trying to adjust to this strange new reality. He was still Mingi, still aware of his responsibilities and tasks, but now he had to figure out how to accomplish them…as a puppy.

He padded around the penthouse, his tiny paws making soft clicks on the polished floor as he aimlessly wandered, bored out of his mind now that you were both back from the pet store. The excitement of the outing had quickly worn off, and now all he could do was sulk in the silence of the house.

His little tail swished back and forth as he circled the living room, kitchen, your piano, and the second floor of the penthouse. Finally, his gaze landed on the door to his room. A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes, and with a determined wag of his tail, he marched toward it.

You paced around the living room, contemplating how to propose your idea to your mother-in-law: staying overnight once a week with Mingi. The thought of him spending nights alone in the suite, surrounded only by machines, unsettled you. He wasn't exactly your biggest fan—he’d made it clear where his heart truly lay, and it wasn’t with you. Yet, the notion of someone always being there, watching over him, brought you a small measure of comfort amid the uncertainty.

As the worry gnawed at you, you knew you had to act. Taking a deep breath, you picked up the phone and dialed your mother-in-law.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me,” you said, doing your best to sound composed. “I just got back from running errands and wanted to propose something.”

Her voice carried that usual guarded curiosity. “What are you suggesting?”

You respected your mother-in-law’s loyalty to her family, even if her protectiveness sometimes blinded her to Mingi’s faults. She had always been gracious to you, maintaining a sense of decorum that made you feel welcome but not entirely at ease.

“I thought we could work out a schedule to stay overnight with Mingi at the hospital.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke, her voice carefully polite. “You’re very thoughtful, dear,” she began, “but…maybe it’s not necessary to stay all night. The nurses are attentive, and they promised to call us if anything changes.”

You glanced around the penthouse, searching for Maro, who had slipped away at some point. The quiet absence of the dog only added to the heavy silence, making the place feel even emptier.

“I have full confidence in his care team,” you replied, forcing each word into a polite, measured tone.

“But I think Mingi would feel more supported if someone were there with him, at least some of the time. I was thinking I could stay overnight once or twice a week? Just so he doesn’t feel…forgotten.”

Mrs. Song paused just a moment, enough for you to feel that familiar flicker of hope—maybe she’d feel the same worry, feel something for her son that went deeper than surface-level appearances.

But when she spoke, her words rang hollow. “Are you sure?” She hesitated, as if weighing how much emotion to offer before she could close herself off again. “I don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

“I’m sure. And I’ll take care of myself, I promise,” you replied, careful to keep any bitterness out of your voice.

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no one he’d be happier to see than you when he wakes up.”

You let the comment hang in the air, refraining from answering. The truth was far more complicated—it wasn’t about who Mingi wanted to see. It was about reminding him he wasn’t completely abandoned, despite how much he’d tried to push you away.

Murmuring a quick goodbye, you ended the call and let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, feeling a strange relief as the line clicked dead.

Standing in the quiet of the penthouse, you wondered how it was possible to care so deeply and feel so estranged at the same time. You exhaled slowly, taking a moment to let the frustration settle before setting off to find Maro, hoping the small presence of the dog might be the comfort you needed.

Mingi paused in front of the door, cocking his head and giving it a long, assessing look. The handle was far out of reach, far higher than any normal dog could ever hope to reach.

With a huff, he pressed his tiny front paws against the door, trying to push and pull with all his might. When that failed, he gave up entirely on the handle and decided on a new strategy: digging.

He squatted down, wiggling his little rear end before he thrust his paws forward in an exaggerated motion, trying to dig under the door. His tiny claws scrabbled uselessly at the polished floor, making little scratching noises that seemed comically futile against the sleek, smooth surface.

He stopped for a moment, eyes narrowing in concentration, before he gave it another go—this time, with more vigor, his body wriggling in earnest as though the door might just give way if he showed it enough determination.

“Maro? What are you doing?” you asked, catching sight of the fluffball nosing determinedly at Mingi’s bedroom door.

He froze, glancing back at you with wide, innocent eyes, but his resolve didn’t waver. He turned back to the door, his eyes narrowing as if silently pleading with it to just open.

You stifled a laugh at his antics. “Sorry, baby boy, but that room’s off limits.”

Your life with Mingi had been defined by boundaries—drawn lines, quiet distances, and spaces kept respectfully separate. Separate rooms, separate lives, and a marriage in name only. The closed door was a boundary, one you’d both agreed to uphold.

But it’s my room! He insisted with a bark of protest, his frustration evident. He didn’t want the carefully arranged, supposedly comfortable dog bed that sat innocently by the window. He wanted his own room, his own bed, and his own space.

“I don’t think Mingi would appreciate it if I let you in there,” you added wistfully.

Mingi could sense something in your voice—a sadness buried beneath your usual composed demeanor. His ears perked as he tilted his head, studying the way your shoulders slumped just slightly, the way your eyes lingered on the closed door before looking away.

In that moment, he recognized that despite the walls between you, you were still here, trying to make the best of a life shaped by distance.

Letting out a small, resigned huff, he slowly padded over to the dog bed by the window, casting one last longing look at the door. Then, in a dramatic display, he flopped onto his back with a sigh, his little paws stretching up into the air, his fluffy belly exposed, hoping it might coax even the smallest smile from you.

Mingi wasn’t thrilled about giving up his room, but he figured if he could cheer you up—even a little—it was worth it. Because he knew, perhaps more than he wanted to admit, how lonely it must be for you, living in a world of closed doors.

"Thanks so much for meeting us here!" you greeted Yeosang warmly, handing him a cup of hot chocolate. His eyes lit up with a grateful smile as he accepted it, glancing down at Hetmon, who was already bouncing in place with excitement.

“No worries at all! I did say I’d be happy to answer any questions about dogs,” Yeosang replied, his gaze shifting to Maro, who sat at your feet, fixated on what would come next in your conversation.

You knelt down, scratching Maro gently behind his ears as the weight of your question settled in your chest. A tightness formed in your throat, and you hesitated, glancing up at Yeosang.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something…a little more serious, if that’s okay.”

Yeosang’s face softened, his usual bright energy shifting to a gentle calm as he took in your expression. His caring demeanor radiated warmth, an almost tangible reassurance that everything would be alright.

“Of course,” he replied, his voice soft but encouraging. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

You unhooked Mingi from the leash, giving him a gentle nudge forward. “Go on, Maro,” you encouraged, motioning toward Hetmon, who was practically vibrating, his tail whipping the air behind him like a propeller.

"Hey, do you wanna play chase?" Hetmon asked eagerly, prancing in a tight circle around Mingi.

"We can also play fetch! My dad brought my favorite ball!"

But Mingi sat firmly in place, his tiny body angled away from Hetmon, focused entirely on your conversation with Yeosang. He narrowed his eyes, stubbornly ignoring the playful advances. As far as he was concerned, Yeosang’s angelic demeanor deserved the highest level of suspicion.

“No,” the puppy pouted, his voice stubborn and unmoving.

Undeterred, Hetmon scooted closer, nudging Mingi’s side with his nose. "Come on, just one game! I’ll even let you catch me!" He bounced in front of Mingi, crouching low in an exaggerated play bow, his tail wagging furiously.

Mingi huffed, his small body stiffening as he resisted the pull of Hetmon’s enthusiasm. He cast the doberman a sidelong glare that would’ve been intimidating—if he were anything bigger than a fluffball.

"No, I want to stay here," Mingi grumbled. "Your father is trying to hit on my wife."

Hetmon tilted his head, blinking with wide-eyed innocence. "That can’t be your wife; she’s not a dog. She’s your mom."

Mingi’s tiny temper flared, but he reminded himself he was dealing with someone with the mental equivalent of a toddler.

"Look, I don’t expect you to understand, but she’s my wife. If I tell you what happened, would you leave me alone?"

Hetmon sat back, pausing thoughtfully, his tail still wagging. "Okay, I’ll listen!”

Mingi sighed, rolling his eyes as if explaining was a chore. "Alright, so before I got...uh, transformed," he said, waving a paw at his small, fluffy body with obvious disdain,

"I was married to Y/N. Then I got into a car accident."

Hetmon’s eyes went wide with awe, tail wagging in anticipation. "So… you died and became a dog?"

"No!" Mingi barked, his chest puffed. "I was transformed into one because I did bad things.” The words came out quietly, almost like a confession, and he glanced away, embarrassed.

“I have three months to complete three tasks, or else I’m stuck like this… forever."

Hetmon tilted his head, his big eyes full of innocent curiosity as he tried to wrap his mind around Mingi’s words. He watched Mingi for a moment, then his tail gave a tentative wag.

“What do you have to do? Can I help?” Hetmon asked eagerly.

“My dad says we always have to help friends!”

Friends. The word stung more than Mingi expected, a sudden reminder of how few people he truly trusted or felt close to. Yunho was really his only friend, the one person he could count on without question.

He shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts drifting to the tight circle of people he called acquaintances: the other Choi’s, the son of Park Enterprises… all hand-picked connections meant to strengthen his family’s standing, but none of those relationships had ever felt genuine.

Had he done this on purpose? Had he pushed people away to keep himself safe, to avoid the risk of betrayal or disappointment? Maybe he’d chosen solitude to protect himself from the sting of being left behind—but he hadn’t expected it to feel so empty now, as he sat here realizing that even a dog like Hetmon was willing to reach out with kindness.

“Okay, well...I guess,” Mingi sighed.

You swallowed hard, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup as you fought to steady yourself. The sunlight hit your wedding ring, casting a soft glow over the diamonds—a gleaming, constant reminder of the life you were bound to. In a way, it felt more like a chain. Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully.

“My…husband was in a really bad car wreck the other night. He’s in a coma right now,” you said, the words thick and heavy, as if each one were being forced out.

The reality of it all settled in the air between you and Yeosang, and you could feel his compassion in the way he listened to you. His brow creased with concern as he took in your words, his quiet presence urging you to press on.

“I’ve made arrangements to spend at least one night a week at the hospital,” you continued, forcing yourself to look down at your cup rather than meet his eyes.

“It’s hard to explain, but I guess I don’t want him to be…alone, even if he can’t really tell.”

Your voice trailed off as a feeling of helplessness welled up within you. You wanted to believe that Mingi could somehow sense your presence, that maybe your being there would make even a small difference. But at the same time, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your visits might mean more to you than they did to him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s a lot to carry. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. But you’re doing your best to be there for him, even when it’s painful.”

You felt a slight relief in his understanding, in the way he didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of Yeosang’s empathy.

“I also don’t mean to impose but…would you mind letting Maro stay over just one night a week? Until I figure things out?” you asked sheepishly. “He’s still so little, and I don’t want him to feel abandoned while I’m gone.”

“Of course, Y/N, don't feel bad for asking!” Yeosang nodded enthusiastically.

“Maro will be in great hands, I promise. I know Hetmon would love having him over! It’ll be like…boys' night, and I can build a fort for them, we can eat snacks…”

Yeosang’s eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as he spoke, his infectious energy making you smile despite your concerns. He had a knack for making the most mundane plans sound like grand adventures, and his lighthearted spirit was always a comforting presence.

The unexpected kindness caught you off guard, causing your shoulders to relax.

“Really?” you murmured, struggling to believe that someone truly understood and wanted to help in such a straightforward yet meaningful way.

“You're dealing with so much right now. I'm glad to help, even if it's small.” For a moment, you felt a lump rise in your throat, the weight of his words grounding you in a world that often felt chaotic and uncertain.

“You don’t have to face all this on your own,” Yeosang added, his words carrying a depth that felt like a lifeline.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hetmon barreling across the grassy field, with Maro bounding right behind him as they zig-zagged through the park. The sight of the two playing together made you smile.

“Hetmon, come have some water!” Yeosang called out.

The doberman’s ears perked up, and he shifted course, galloping toward his owner, excited for his water break. Maro, bounded after him, and hopped up onto your lap, nuzzling into your arms.

“Maro, guess what! You’re going to have a sleepover with Hetmon!” you announced, patting him gently. The words slipped out with casual enthusiasm, thinking it’d be fun for him to spend a night with someone who’s growing so fond of him.

What!?

Mingi’s gaze darted from you to Yeosang, then to Hetmon, who was still wagging his tail, blissfully unaware of the turmoil stirring inside him.

Despite his best efforts to stay aloof and independent, he had come to rely on your presence—the warmth, the comfort, and the steady sense of grounding you brought to his strange new world. The thought of being without that, even for just a night, filled him with something he was unwilling to admit to himself: fear.

<< i | iii >>

a/n: ughhh my taglist is ugly, I can't tag more than 5 blogs to a line now, so forgive me for the formatting

taglist: @syubseokie @koyagifs @sunnysidesins @thedistractedwriter @notevenheretbh1

@molberto @litolmochi @intowxnderland @yn-reincarnate @lemonkait00

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

@desi2go @beabatiny @sangilov-r @roomsofangel @symmieangela

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

@yoonrixx @jean-swolo @silent-potato @jiwoongsblondehair @sanriomilk

@sanniesbum

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𓇼 beabatiny reblog

250 notes View Post

beabatiny

3 months ago

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 ⋆｡°✩

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

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

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beabatiny

4 months ago

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 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 07:30 pm - @woncon idol!poly!yunwoosan x gn!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 08:00 - @mimikittysblog husband!poly!yunsan x wife!reader (timestamp) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 21:40 - @mimikittysblog poly!ot8 x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 23:55 - @mimikittysblog poly!ot8 x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Alien In My Living Room - @potatomountain alien!hongjoong x reader x cowboy!san (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [ 20.08 ] - @yizhou-time mafia!hongjoong x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Little Friendly Competition - @snwusberry dad!hongjoong x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Momma’s Boy - @acciocriativity idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 After School Discipline [Part One] [Part Two] - @wwooyology professor!hongjoong x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Beginning Of The End [Part One] [Part Two] - @yeomongi bf!hongjoong x reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Cherry Lemons [Part One] [Part Two] - @altxrrmelancholy biker!seonghwa x reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Corrupted Thoughts - @planet-hwa roommate!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Embarrassingly Cute - @xuchiya non-idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Head Over Heels - @iannmin heel obsessed!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Hot Chocolate - @sugawhaaa bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [1:15 pm] - @yuyusgirlie husband!yunho x wife!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 2U - @joongieology non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Funfair Date - @mysteriousrainsworld bf!yunho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Bad Girl Syndrome - @hotteokyu outlaw!yunho x outlaw!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Bodyguard!Yunho & Spoiled Nepobaby!Reader | Bodyguard!Yunho Puts You In Your Place - @seobinghard bodyguard!yunho x nepobaby!reader (two-parts) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 12:05am - @planet-hwa bf!yeosang x reader (timestamp) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Birthday - @sweetiesicheng bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Die With A Smile - @koyagifs non-idol!yeosang x reader ft.seonghwa (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hidden in Polaroid: His Secrets, Her Obsession - @champagnecherryblossom idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 How Quick Things Can Change… - @hee0soo serial killer!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Goodfella's Moondance - @itstheghostofmypast husband!mafia!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Echos Of Fame - @scoupsakakitty idol!san x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Glowing Caverns - @wwooyology lifeguard!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Honey, Baby - @i-like-loserz husband!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 I'm Okay! Gwenchana! - @itstheghostofmypast husband!non-idol!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Finals Week - @yeomongi bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Raving With Best Friend ! Mingi - @seobinghard best friend!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Unfair Nostalgia - @xuchiya ex-husband!mingi x ex-wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 You Gonna Pick Up The Phone? - @outlawinthisworld1117 neighbor crushl!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Your Little Monster - @bvidzsoo mafia heir!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [11:59 pm] - @m1ngkis wooyoung x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 A Road Trip - @littlefireball bf!wooyoung x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Blistering Heat - @wwooyology fox hybrid!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Chosen Appa - @dancinglikebutterflywings best friend!wooyoung x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Cookies For Santa - @snwusberry dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Blood Stained Words - @dae-chwiita non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Jongho As Your Boyfriend's Best Friend - @haechanhues non-idol!jongho x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ornament Odyssey - @lilacmingi santa!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Soft Cheeks, Softer Hearts - @xuchiya bf!jongho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Tension & Release - @yeomongi bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞

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284 notes View Post

beabatiny

5 months ago

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

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beabatiny

4 months ago

WE ARE SO BACK! (again)

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ THE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Twelve: Ma Meilleure Ennemie

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎< previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 10k (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 night is electric, filled with fleeting glances, moments of tension, and unspoken words hanging in the air. You find yourself caught in a delicate dance between the past and the present, as old wounds resurface in the most unexpected ways. But just when you think you’ve built a wall strong enough to keep it all out, everything comes crashing down. Who can you trust when even your own heart feels like a stranger? Will you finally face what’s been lurking in the shadows, or will you keep running, hoping the past will stay buried? The answers are closer than you think—but are you ready to hear them?

a/n: the way you can tell this is a belated new yearʼs special... also peep the references hehe

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl @vcutparis (ik youʼre not actually on my taglist but i wanted to add you here haha 😅)

Paris glowed as if it were at the very edge of heaven. Streets lined with twinkling fairy lights stretched endlessly, shimmering like stars brought down to earth. The chill of winter softened by the warmth of countless candles flickering in shop windows and the golden glimmer spilling out of bustling cafes. Children darted between the legs of laughing adults, their giggles carried on the crisp evening breeze. Couples strolled hand in hand, their faces illuminated by both the soft light of the decorations and the sheer joy of the season. Fireworks were being prepped along the Seine, their bright colors barely restrained, waiting for the stroke of midnight to explode into celebration.

Yet, amidst all this joy and revelry, there was a quiet heaviness—a void that neither the beauty of Paris nor the energy of the celebrations could fill.

You sat at the edge of your bed, the faint hum of the heater in your apartment the only sound breaking the silence. The festive cheer of the city below felt like a mockery of the hollow ache in your chest. The loneliness that clung to you was suffocating, made worse by the distance between you and Hongjoong. You tried not to think about him, but every laugh that slipped in through your window or every stray cat that crossed the street below brought him to mind. He was everywhere and nowhere all at once, his absence more palpable than any presence could ever be.

Seonghwa’s name suddenly flashed across the screen of your phone, pulling the anchor of your thoughts back to the shore. For a moment, you considered ignoring it altogether—you werenʼt in the mood to do anything at all today, anyway, let alone celebrate the upcoming year. But knowing him, he wouldn’t just leave it at one call—he’d keep trying until you answered. With a shaky breath, you swiped to accept.

“Hello?” Your voice came out quieter than you intended, and you cursed yourself for the way it wavered.

“Hey, I missed you!” Seonghwa’s voice was warm, almost too warm. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me.”

You forced a small laugh, but it sounded hollow even to your own ears. “As if I could. But… why the sudden phone call?”

There was a pause, brief but charged, before he spoke again. “We’re having a New Year’s Eve party here tonight—and you should definitely come!”

Your heart sank. Of course, he’d call about that. You already knew the agency’s New Year’s event was a big deal, but you hadn’t planned on going. The thought of being in the same room as Hongjoong, pretending everything was fine when it very clearly wasn’t, was almost unbearable.

“I don’t know, Seonghwa...” you began, but he cut you off.

“Listen,” he said gently, “you’ve been cooped up for too long. It’ll be good for you to get out, be around people.”

You bit your lip, your grip tightening on the phone. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t. Being around people wasn’t the problem. Hongjoong was the problem.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” you said, hating how weak you sounded.

Seonghwa sighed, and you could picture him running a hand through his hair, the way he always did when he was trying to be patient. “Itʼs because of Hongjoong, isnʼt it?”

Your breath hitched, and the silence that followed was damning. Of course, he knew. He always knew.

“He’s not going to bother you,” Seonghwa said softly. “I’ll make sure of it. You can stick with me the whole night if you want. Hell, I’ll even block his line of sight if it’ll make you feel better.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, though it was brief and tinged with sadness. “I don’t think that’s physically possible, Seonghwa.” Your fingers tightened around the edge of your desk, your chest tightening. “And it’s not just that,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can handle pretending to be okay. I feel like I’ll just ruin the mood.”

“Ruin the mood? Are you kidding?” Seonghwa’s laugh was light but not dismissive. “You’re the highlight of any room you walk into. Trust me, no one’s expecting you to put on a show. Just be there.”

Before you could respond, Wooyoung’s voice burst through the receiver. “Hey, I know this phone number!” he beamed before straight up snatching the phone from Seonghwa. “How come youʼre picking up Seonghwaʼs calls and not mine?”

Your eyebrow went up in confusion. “Youʼve been calling me?”

“No, but you should be able to telepathically sense my soul whenever I want you to call me.”

“Wooyoung, give me back my phone!”

“No way! She’s laughing now, thanks to me.”

Despite yourself, you smiled, warmth seeping into the cracks of your heart. “Well, hello to you too, Wooyoung.”

“Hey there,” Wooyoung greeted. “Now, listen up. You’re coming tonight. No arguments. We’re saving you a seat and everything. And you know what? If you cross paths with Hongjoong and things get weird, just yell my name, and I’ll come running. Deal?”

Your smile faltered at the mention of Hongjoong yet again, but Wooyoung didn’t give you a chance to dwell on it. “I mean it,” he continued. “You’ve been MIA, and honestly, we miss you. So, get dressed, look stunning, and show up. That’s an order.”

“Wooyoung,” Seonghwa scolded lightly, “let her decide on her own.”

“Nope,” Wooyoung countered. “She’s coming. End of discussion.”

You wanted to go. You really did. But the thought of walking into that office, of seeing Hongjoong and pretending like everything was fine... It felt impossible. The wound between you wasn’t just fresh—it was still bleeding, raw and unhealed.

What if he ignored you again? What if he didn’t?

That was the cruelest part. You didn’t know what was worse—his cold indifference or the possibility that he’d look at you with anything resembling regret.

Your thumb hovered over the screen, contemplating an excuse to end the call. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Seonghwa. You knew he’d keep his word, stay by your side, shield you from whatever awkwardness might arise. But it wasn’t enough.

Because no matter how much you wanted to deny it, this wasn’t just about Hongjoong avoiding you. It was about the hollow ache in your chest, the way your mind kept replaying that almost-kiss, that devastating moment when he stepped away.

You hated how much you missed him. How much you still cared, despite everything.

But maybe you were being selfish. Maybe you needed to stop wallowing in your own misery and try to move on. Maybe—

“Still there?” Seonghwa’s voice broke through your thoughts, soft but insistent.

“Uh… yeah. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he said, and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. “Just think about it, okay? I really think it’ll do you some good. And if it gets too overwhelming, I’ll take you home myself. No questions asked.”

“Okay,” you said quietly, though you weren’t sure you meant it.

“Promise you’ll think about it?”

“Promise.”

“Good,” Seonghwa said, and you could almost hear the smile in his voice. “And hey, Wooyoung wants to say something to you.”

Wooyoung’s voice came back, loud and chipper. “If you don’t come, I’m eating all the desserts. Every single one. You’ve been warned—mind you, half of these are your favorites!”

You laughed, a genuine one this time. “Noted.”

Meanwhile, at the office, Hongjoong found himself standing beside a table, his hands busy arranging patterned fabrics, though his thoughts were anything but focused on the task at hand. Wooyoung’s voice carried across the room, loud enough to be heard by everyone nearby, including him, making Hongjoong look up in mild surprise, only to see him and Seonghwa engaged in a phone call.

As soon as a laugh echoed faintly through the air from the other line, Hongjoong’s entire world seemed to grind to a halt. It wasn’t even loud—just a soft, almost timid sound—but it hit him like a hurricane.

That laugh.

It was yours.

There was no mistaking it, even after the days of silence that stretched between you like a vast ocean. His hands froze, the patterned cloth he’d been meticulously arranging slipping from his grasp as his breath caught in his throat.

It was ridiculous, really. He’d heard your laugh countless times before, in moments both mundane and extraordinary. But now? Now it felt like a lifeline, a fleeting tether to something he’d been desperately trying to push away yet couldn’t help but crave.

God, how long had it been since he’d heard it? Days? Weeks? It felt like a lifetime. And to think, he’d spent all that time convincing himself that distance was the right thing to do, that staying away from you would somehow make things easier for both of you. What a joke. He wasn’t sure what hurt more—the hollow ache of missing you or the self-inflicted wounds of his own stubbornness.

As your voice murmured something indistinct on the other end of Seonghwa’s phone, Hongjoong felt the sharp sting of longing cut through him like glass. He wanted to hear it more clearly, to hold onto every word, every inflection, as if they could somehow fill the empty spaces you’d left behind. And damn it, he wanted to be the reason you were laughing. Not Wooyoung, not Seonghwa—him. He wanted to be the one who could coax that sound from you, the one you’d turn to when the world felt too heavy or too bright.

For a fleeting, irrational moment, he wanted to march across the room, grab Seonghwa’s phone, and press it to his ear. He wanted to say your name, hear how you’d respond, even if it was with confusion or anger. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t.

What good would it do? What could he possibly say to you that would make up for everything? For the cold shoulders, the deliberate avoidance, the way he’d pulled away just when things had begun to shift between you two? He was a goddamn hypocrite, and he knew it. He hated himself for it.

Because the truth was, he didn’t want to keep you at arm’s length. Not even a little. Every fiber of his being screamed against the distance he’d forced between you, begged him to close it, to reach out, to pull you back into the space he’d so selfishly carved out for you in his life. But then that ugly, insidious voice in his head would creep back in, reminding him why he’d done it in the first place.

What could he offer you? He was a man with flaws, with baggage he wishes not to let you carry. And you... you deserved more than he could give.

So he kept his distance, even though it killed him. Even though he could feel the cracks widening in the carefully constructed wall he’d built around himself. He told himself it was for your own good, that he was protecting you, even as the lie twisted like a knife in his gut. He didn’t believe it anymore—not really. But admitting that would mean admitting how badly he’d messed up, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength for that.

Hearing you laugh again, even from afar, was both a balm and a wound. It reminded him of everything he was missing, everything he’d willingly let slip through his fingers. He wanted to fix it, to fix everything, but the fear of making things worse kept him rooted in place.

The voice of another employee of his—Yunho, broke through the fog in his mind, pulling him back to the present. “Hongjoong? You okay?”

He nodded stiffly, forcing a tight-lipped smile. “Yeah. Just... tired.”

But as Yunho turned back to his task, Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on Seonghwa. He watched as his friend smiled faintly, clearly amused by something you’d said. And for just a moment, the ache in Hongjoong’s chest flared into something sharper—something dangerously close to jealousy.

He shook his head, forcing the thought away. This was his choice, wasn’t it? He’d made his bed. Now he had to lie in it, no matter how much it hurt.

The call ended with Wooyoung’s playful taunts still echoing in your mind, the warmth and humor of his voice a stark contrast to the silence that quickly reclaimed your apartment. You lowered your phone, letting it rest loosely in your hand as your gaze wandered to the window. Outside, the city lights twinkled in celebration of the approaching New Year, but their brightness felt muted, distant. The faint hum of life beyond the glass only highlighted the silence around you, the stillness wrapping itself around your shoulders like a heavy, unwelcome shawl.

You leaned against the window frame, staring out at the faint reflections of your own eyes in the glass. How long has it been since you let yourself enjoy anything? Since you’d laughed without reservation, without that ache trailing behind it? Days? Weeks? The timeline blurred in your mind, consumed by the fog of isolation.

It wasn’t just the absence of Hongjoong that weighed on you, though his presence—or lack thereof—was an unshakable specter. It was the guilt of shutting out Seonghwa and Wooyoung, the two people who had always been there for you, unwavering and unrelenting in their support. They didn’t deserve your cold shoulder, yet you had given it to them anyway, consumed by your inability to process your own emotions.

But even that guilt paled in comparison to the ache you felt for Hongjoong.

You missed him. There was no denying it, no point in pretending otherwise. You missed his laugh, his rare but heartwarming compliments, the way he’d tilt his head when he was deep in thought. The void he left in your life felt insurmountable, and yet you had no idea how to bridge it. Every attempt at reconciliation seemed doomed from the start, the tension between you so thick it felt almost tangible.

What if I go and ruin everything? The thought sliced through you like a blade, sharp and unyielding. Would your presence at the party make things worse? Would it sour his mood, dampen his excitement for the New Year?

But then, Seonghwa’s voice came back to you, his gentle encouragement echoing in your mind. He was right—you couldn’t keep doing this to yourself. You couldn’t keep hiding away, letting the world pass you by while you drowned in your own sorrow.

With a sigh, you pushed away from the window and headed toward your closet. Each step felt like an act of defiance against the part of you that wanted to stay buried under the covers, but you forced yourself forward. You weren’t going for Hongjoong, you told yourself firmly. You were going for Seonghwa and Wooyoung. For yourself.

As you scanned your closet, fingers brushing over the fabric of your clothes, you tried to suppress the part of you that hoped—prayed—that Hongjoong might notice you. That he might see you, really see you, and understand just how much you missed him.

But that was just wishful thinking, wasn’t it?

Before you could dwell on it further, you grabbed an outfit and set it aside, picking up your phone to send a quick message.

I’ll be there.

Thank you for the encouragement :)

Tell Wooyoung we’ll be competing on who can eat the largest amount of food by the end of the party!

The response came almost instantly.

knew you would cave in lol

this is woo btw

and don’t be too confident, i won’t even give you a chance to win >:)

A small smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. You set your phone down, grabbed your outfit, and headed to the bathroom. Tonight, you weren’t going to let the weight of the past hold you back.

But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth.

You wanted to see him. Even if it was from a distance.

—

The clatter of chairs and tables echoed through the expansive room as Hongjoong stood at the center of the chaos, his sharp eyes tracking every movement. Employees walked around, fixing decorations, adjusting lights, and arranging catering setups. The air was filled with the subtle hum of excitement, yet he felt oddly detached from it all. He issued instructions left and right, his voice professional and commanding, but beneath his composed exterior, his thoughts churned relentlessly.

The memory of Seonghwa’s phone call from earlier kept replaying in his mind, an endless loop of voices and laughter that wasn’t meant for him to hear. He had caught snippets of Wooyoung’s playful banter, the sound of your distant chuckle, faint but unmistakable. He’d wondered if they were trying to convince you to come to the party. He prayed they were. The idea of you not being there made his chest feel hollow.

He tried to focus on the present, on the tasks at hand, but his mind stubbornly returned to you. Were you debating whether or not to show up? The last time you spoke, things were left unresolved, painful and raw. He knew you had every right to avoid him. Hell, if he were in your shoes, he wouldn’t blame you for staying as far away as possible. But selfishly, he wanted to see you.

No, he needed to see you.

His stomach twisted at the thought of you deciding not to come. He couldn’t bear it. He imagined what you might wear tonight, how effortlessly stunning you’d look, and the ache in his heart deepened. If things had been different—if he hadn’t been such an absolute asshole—he would’ve spent the evening showering you with compliments, unable to hold back the admiration he always felt when you were near.

But he’d ruined that.

The guilt gnawed at him, almost unbearable in its intensity. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. Were you going to take the bus? He hated the thought of you braving the crowded streets alone on a night like this. A part of him toyed with the idea of showing up at your apartment unannounced, offering to drive you himself. But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. You hated him—he was certain of it. The last thing he wanted was to make things worse.

Still, the worry lingered. He had no idea if you were okay, if you’d even decided to leave your apartment.

“Hyung, do you mind? You’re in the way,” a sharp voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts. Hongjoong turned to see Wooyoung, sleeves rolled up as he adjusted the trays of pastries on the table. The younger man’s expression was irritated, though that was nothing new.

“Hey, wait—”

Wooyoung turned with an exasperated look, his brows furrowing as his eyes landed on Hongjoong. “What now?” he asked flatly. “I’m busy, you know.”

“Please,” Hongjoong began, his tone unusually soft, almost pleading. “Just hear me out.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, skepticism written all over his face. “This better be worth my time. What is it?”

Hongjoong swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry. “I wanted to apologize,” he said quietly. “For that day. For how I acted. I was out of line, and I feel fucking horrible about it. I shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you, and I know everything I said was unjustifiable. I understand your behavior towards me, and I—”

Wooyoung studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he sighed and shrugged. “I didn’t really mind your attitude that day. You were being a jerk, yeah, but I’ve dealt with worse. What really bothered me then, though, was the way you were treating her.”

Hongjoong flinched at the mention of you, guilt hitting him like a tidal wave.

“So, if we go by my logic,” Wooyoung continued, crossing his arms, “since you’re still acting like a bastard towards her, I’m still mad at you.”

Hongjoong nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know. You’re right.”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained firm. “So, what’s the catch, then? What do you want from me?”

“I just…” Hongjoong hesitated, glancing away. “Is she coming tonight?”

Wooyoung blinked, clearly taken aback. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you care?”

Hongjoong exhaled slowly, struggling to find the right words. “Because…” He paused, his shoulders slumping. “Because I need to know. If she’s here, I—”

“You’ll stay away from her,” Wooyoung cut in sharply, his voice cold. “I’m not letting you ruin her night. She doesn’t deserve that.”

Hongjoong nodded without hesitation. “I understand.”

Wooyoung studied him for a moment before his expression softened just a fraction. “If my guess on what youʼre so worried about is correct—Seonghwa will be picking her up. She won’t have to worry about the bus or anything like that.”

Relief flooded Hongjoong’s features. “Thank you.”

As he turned to leave, Wooyoung grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “Listen to me, hyung,” he said, his voice low but firm. “This is your only chance to fix things with her. If you screw this up, you’re going to lose her forever. Do you understand?”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened as he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Wooyoung said, releasing his arm. “Don’t waste it.”

—

You stood in front of the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with an intensity that made your stomach churn. The sleek fabric of your outfit hugged your beautiful form in all the right places, the color complementing your complexion perfectly. Your hair fell just the way you wanted it to, framing your face delicately. Yet, no matter how much you adjusted the hem of your dress or smoothed down nonexistent creases, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Your hands nervously fidgeted at your sides before moving to smooth your hair again. “Does this even look good?” you muttered under your breath, biting your lip. The anxious energy buzzing inside you was unusual—normally, you weren’t the type to obsess over your appearance. You had a certain confidence about these things, but tonight felt different.

You turned to the side, checking the outfit from another angle, then turned back to face the mirror. Why were you so worked up over this? It wasn’t like you were trying to impress anyone. But the longer you stood there, the more the answer lingered just below the surface, teasing you with its obviousness.

Deep down, you knew.

Hongjoong.

You shook your head at yourself, scolding the foolishness brewing in your heart. Why did you care so much about what he might think? Why were you secretly hoping he’d notice you? You let out a humorless laugh, pressing your fingers against the cool surface of the vanity. You didn’t even know if you wanted him to approach you tonight. The memory of your last interaction was still fresh, a wound that hadn’t fully scabbed over.

But some small, ridiculous part of you hoped—prayed—that maybe, just maybe, things could be different tonight. That maybe he’d look at you the way he used to, with that spark of admiration in his eyes. Maybe he’d find the courage to talk to you, to apologize properly, to explain why he’d hurt you the way he did. Maybe he’d—

Your thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of your phone on the countertop. The screen lit up with Seonghwa’s name and a message that read:

I’m outside.

Walking to the window, you peered outside and saw him leaning casually against his car. When his eyes caught yours, he grinned and waved enthusiastically, his free hand raised high above his head. The sight of his childlike excitement made you chuckle softly, and you returned the wave.

Grabbing your purse, you cast one last glance at the mirror, adjusting your earrings before slipping on your heels. As you made your way out the door, you kept telling yourself to stop overthinking. Tonight wasn’t about Hongjoong—it couldn’t be. This was your chance to let go of everything, if only for a few hours.

Inside the elevator, you leaned against the wall, staring blankly at the buttons as the floors ticked by. When the elevator stopped on the third floor, Madame Dupont stepped in, her sharp eyes immediately lighting up when she saw you.

“My dear!” she exclaimed, her voice warm with surprise. “Look at you! You look stunning.”

Her genuine excitement brought a shy smile to your lips. “Bonsoir, Madame Dupont,” you greeted, inclining your head politely.

“What’s the occasion? You don’t usually dress up like this,” she teased, though her tone carried more curiosity than mockery.

You hesitated for a moment, shifting your weight. “My friends invited me to a New Year’s party. I thought… maybe it’s time I went out and let myself breathe a little.”

Her expression softened, her wrinkled eyes glimmering with something akin to pride. “That’s wonderful to hear, my dear. You deserve it, truly.” Before you could say anything else, she pulled you into a brief but firm hug, her perfume—sweet and floral—wrapping around you like a blanket.

When the elevator doors opened on the ground floor, she squeezed your hand gently. “Have fun tonight,” she said with a smile. “You’ve earned it.”

You nodded, touched by her words. “Merci, Madame Dupont. I’ll try.”

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside. Seonghwa was quick to spot you, his entire face lighting up as he waved like an overexcited child. “There she is!” he called out, his voice laced with exaggerated enthusiasm.

You laughed, walking toward him. “You didn’t have to make it that obvious that you missed me, you know.”

“Oh, but I did,” he said with a grin as he opened the passenger door for you. “It’s been far too long since we hung out properly.”

You slid into the car, murmuring a soft “thank you” as you adjusted your dress. But as you settled in, the familiar setting triggered a memory you weren’t prepared for—the last time you were in Hongjoong’s car. You remembered the way he’d glanced at you during that drive, how the silence between you had been heavy but not uncomfortable. How things had been… easier.

The smile you’d been wearing faltered slightly. You really missed him.

But tonight wasn’t about him. You couldn’t let it be.

Seonghwa slipped into the driver’s seat and immediately noticed the change in your demeanor. Though he didn’t say anything, his brows furrowed slightly in concern. “So,” he began, steering the conversation away from whatever was on your mind, “you’ve missed a lot lately.”

“Oh?” you asked, forcing your focus back to him.

“Yeah,” he said, his tone turning light and teasing. “You missed Wooyoung accidentally sending a mass email to the wrong group. He meant to send it to the marketing team, but instead, the IT department got a very detailed report about catering options.”

You chuckled softly. “Let me guess—he blamed it on the system?”

“Of course he did. And don’t even get me started on Mingi and his latest prank. He replaced all of Yeosang’s post-it notes with ones that had motivational quotes in Comic Sans.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the image. “Sounds like I’ve missed quite a bit of chaos.”

“Oh, you have,” Seonghwa agreed with a grin. But as the conversation lulled, your curiosity got the better of you. “What about Hongjoong?” you asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s expression softened, a knowing look crossing his features. “He’s… different lately,” he admitted after a pause. “Not as talkative as he used to be. He’s professional, sure, but there’s something missing. He’s not himself.”

Worry gnawed at you, but Seonghwa reached over to pat your arm reassuringly. “Don’t think about it too much tonight, okay? Let’s just focus on having fun.”

You nodded, though his words did little to ease the tightness in your chest. You wished it were that easy. You truly did.

—

Hongjoong’s fingers curled around the edge of the sink, his reflection staring back at him with a mixture of frustration and nervousness. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights above buzzed faintly, matching the unsettled rhythm of his thoughts. His hair refused to cooperate, each strand mocking his futile attempts to tame it. He combed his fingers through the dark locks for what felt like the hundredth time, letting out a low growl of irritation.

“Why now?” he muttered under his breath, narrowing his eyes at the rebellious strands. Of all nights, it had to be this one where he couldn’t look as put-together as he wanted.

But deep down, he knew it wasn’t just about the hair. No amount of fixing or adjusting could cover up the restlessness gnawing at his chest. Tonight was different. Tonight, you were here.

The thought made his stomach twist in an uncomfortable knot. His gaze flickered down to his hands, knuckles white against the sink’s edge.

“Why do you care so much?” he asked himself, the question lingering in the air like a stubborn shadow. He already knew the answer—he just didn’t want to say it out loud.

You hadn’t spoken in weeks, not properly. Not since the argument that had left things hanging in the air, unresolved and heavy. And yet, here he was, fussing over his appearance like a teenager before their first dance.

It was foolish, wishful even, but a part of him hoped that tonight… maybe things would be different. Maybe your eyes would find his across the room. Maybe you’d exchange even just a glance.

The muffled sound of Wooyoung’s voice drifted through the door, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“You’re finally here!”

His body stiffened.

You were here.

“Shit,” he hissed, running a hand over his face before straightening his posture. He took one last look in the mirror, smoothing out the creases in his blazer. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

The moment he stepped out of the bathroom, the atmosphere shifted. The harsh fluorescent lights dimmed, replaced by the soft glow of multi-colored LEDs that washed over the venue in a dreamlike haze. Music played faintly in the background, mingling with the hum of conversations and the occasional burst of laughter.

But Hongjoong wasn’t focused on any of that. His eyes darted through the crowd, scanning the sea of faces for one in particular.

Before he could spot you, the stage lights flickered on, illuminating the small platform he had set up in the center of the room. Seonghwa stood there, microphone in hand, his presence commanding attention as he greeted the crowd.

“Good evening, everyone!” Seonghwa’s voice was warm and inviting, drawing cheers and applause from the guests. “Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate not just the end of the year, but also the incredible milestones we’ve achieved together. It’s an honor to have so many talented and inspiring individuals gathered here.”

The applause swelled, and Seonghwa smiled, pausing for effect before continuing. “Now, I won’t keep you from enjoying the night, but before we get started, I’d like to call up someone very important to say a few words—our host, the man behind it all… Kim Hongjoong!”

The room erupted into cheers as Seonghwa gestured toward him, and Hongjoong felt a surge of anxiety spike through his chest. He wasn’t one to get stage fright, but the thought of speaking while you were out there, somewhere in the crowd, made his throat tighten.

He forced a small smile as he stepped onto the stage, his usual confidence faltering under the weight of his own thoughts.

“Thank you, Seonghwa,” he began, his voice steady but lacking its usual vibrancy. “And thank you all for being here tonight. This year has been nothing short of extraordinary, and it’s all thanks to the hard work and dedication of everyone in this room.”

His words were genuine, heartfelt, but as he continued, his eyes couldn’t stop flickering across the crowd, searching. He tried to keep his composure, but the way his gaze kept shifting didn’t go unnoticed by a few observant guests.

“Tonight is not just about reflecting on our successes but also about looking forward to the future. I hope this evening will serve as a reminder of the creativity, passion, and drive that brought us all together. Let’s welcome the new year with open arms and make it even better than the last.”

The applause was loud, appreciative, but Hongjoong barely heard it. His eyes finally landed on you.

And you were looking back at him.

For a moment, everything else seemed to blur—time, sound, the crowd around you both. His heart stuttered in his chest, and his grip on the microphone tightened.

“I…” He paused, clearing his throat to steady himself. “I hope you all have fun tonight. Thank you.”

The crowd cheered again as he stepped off the stage, but the moment had already left him shaken. Across the room, Wooyoung nudged your shoulder gently. “Hey, you okay?”

You blinked, startled out of your thoughts, and turned to him with a faint smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Wooyoung didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? You kind of zoned out there for a second.”

You hesitated, your eyes flickering toward the stage where Hongjoong had stood moments ago. “It’s just… there are so many high-profile people here. I feel like I don’t belong.”

“Bullshit,” Wooyoung said bluntly, earning a surprised laugh from you. “Sorry for the language, but yeah, that’s total bullshit. You belong here just as much as anyone else.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not.” He crossed his arms, giving you a pointed look. “Look around. People are literally noticing you left and right. You’re the star tonight.”

Before you could respond, a nearby conversation caught your attention.

“Who’s that stunning mademoiselle over there?” a woman whispered, her gaze fixed on you.

“She’s one of Mr. Kimʼs newest models,” her assistant replied, earning a smile of approval from the woman.

Wooyoung grinned triumphantly. “See? I told you.”

You shook your head, trying to suppress a smile. “You’re reaching, Woo.”

Before he could argue further, someone from across the room called out his name, and you turned to see a tall man waving enthusiastically.

“Soobin!” Wooyoung called back, his face lighting up.

You nudged him gently. “Go say hi.”

Wooyoung hesitated, glancing back at you. “Are you sure? My priority tonight is—”

“I’ll be fine,” you reassured him. “Go. Catch up with your friend.”

It took a little more convincing, but eventually, Wooyoung relented, leaving you alone in the crowd, telling you to stay safe before heading towards the other corner of the room. And as much as you hated to admit it, you wanted the chance to see Hongjoong—keeping Wooyoung around would lower your chances. You weren’t sure what you’d say or do, but the pull was undeniable.

The music swelled, filling the air with a hauntingly beautiful melody that sent shivers cascading down your spine. You recognized the song instantly—Ma Meilleure Ennemie.

Its delicate notes carried a tension that mirrored the one steadily growing in your chest. Each rise and fall of the rhythm felt like it was echoing the flutter of your heartbeat, unstable and erratic.

The lights dimmed and flickered in sync with the music, casting shifting hues of red, blue, and purple over the crowd. The once vibrant room was now a kaleidoscope of moving silhouettes, their faces obscured by the moody lighting and the fog created by the haze machine. You moved cautiously through the throng of people, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

With every step, you felt smaller. The towering presence of high-profile figures, their laughter and animated conversations, created an invisible barrier that was difficult to breach. These were people who belonged here—artists, designers, and models who were not only established but celebrated. They mingled with ease, their confidence palpable, while you felt like an imposter wandering through a world you didn’t quite belong to.

You clenched your fingers around the fabric of your dress, the smooth satin offering little comfort against the gnawing self-doubt creeping into your thoughts.

“Excusez-moi.”

A deep voice startled you, and you turned to see an elegantly dressed man with salt-and-pepper hair and a sharp, tailored suit. He looked every bit the part of a veteran in the fashion industry.

“You are one of Monsieur Kim’s models, no?” he asked, his French accent rolling off his tongue smoothly.

You forced a polite smile, nodding. “Yes, I am.”

“Ah,” he said, his smile warm but scrutinizing, his eyes scanning you as if evaluating your worth. “I thought so. You have a certain... presence. Unique.”

His words, though intended as a compliment, made your skin prickle with unease. You managed to thank him before he moved on, but the encounter left you feeling even more out of place.

As you continued walking, more people stopped you. Some were kind, their words of admiration genuine, but others were probing, their questions sharp and loaded.

“How long have you been modeling?”

“Which agency represents you?”

“Do you think you’re prepared for a career this demanding?”

The last question lingered in your mind long after the conversation ended, gnawing at the cracks in your composure. Am I prepared?

Someone brushes past you, stepping on your foot in the process. You hissed in pain, stumbling back and clutching your arm to steady yourself.

“Apologies!” the person called out over their shoulder, but their apology was lost in the sea of voices and music.

You backed away further, retreating to the edges of the room where the lights weren’t as harsh, and the crowd wasn’t as suffocating. The thrum of conversations and laughter seemed louder now, drowning out the melody of the song that once comforted you.

Your breathing grew shallow, the edges of your vision narrowing as anxiety took root. Your hands trembled slightly as you pressed one against your chest, trying to ground yourself.

Maybe you shouldn’t have sent Wooyoung off…

The thought barely formed in your mind before you decided to leave the crowd altogether. You turned, intending to slip away unnoticed, when a warm hand closed gently around your forearm.

“Wait—”

The touch was familiar, so much so that your heart skipped a beat. You didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

It was Hongjoong.

Slowly, you turned to face him, and the sight that greeted you nearly knocked the air from your lungs.

Even under the shifting, dim lights, he looked strikingly handsome. His dark hair, though slightly tousled, framed his sharp features perfectly. The tailored blazer he wore fit him impeccably, accentuating his slim build and exuding an understated elegance. But it wasn’t just his appearance—it was the way he held himself, a quiet intensity in his gaze that felt almost magnetic.

He was slightly out of breath, his chest rising and falling as if he’d been rushing. You couldn’t help but wonder—had he been searching for you? The idea made your heart clench with conflicting emotions.

“I…” You opened your mouth, but the words didn’t come. You had hoped to catch a glimpse of him tonight, to admire him from a distance and leave it at that. But now, with him standing this close, your resolve crumbled.

Hongjoong’s grip on your arm loosened, but his hand lingered as if afraid you might vanish if he let go completely. “Please,” he said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the music and chatter around you. “Can we talk? Just for a moment.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the crowd before meeting his gaze again. “Hongjoong, I don’t think this is the time or place—”

“Then tell me when,” he interrupted, his voice firm but laced with urgency. “Tell me where, and I’ll be there. Just… don’t push me away like this. Please. I’m begging you.” His hand tightened ever so slightly on your arm, his desperation evident in the way his brows furrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line as if to hold back words that might spill out too quickly.

Your hesitation deepened, your heart warring against your mind. This is a mistake. He’s a mistake. But… why does it hurt to see him like this?

“I donʼt…” you began, your voice faltering as your resolve threatened to give way.

“I know I’ve hurt you,” he continued, his voice trembling with emotion. “I know I’ve failed you in ways I can’t even begin to explain. But if you walk away now, if you don’t let me fix this—” His voice broke, and he exhaled shakily, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. Don’t let this end here. Just one conversation. That’s all I’m asking for.”

You bit your lip, your chest tightening at the rawness of his plea. You wanted to say no, to walk away and preserve the fragile walls you’d built around yourself. But the sincerity in his eyes, the cracks in his usually composed demeanor, made it impossible.

This is dangerous, you thought, your mind screaming at you to pull away. But your heart had already decided.

You sighed, nodding slowly. “Fine,” you whispered, the single word barely audible over the noise around you. Relief washed over his face, and for a moment, you hated how much it softened something inside you.

The moment Hongjoong’s hand tightened around your arm and he led you toward the nearest exit, your feet faltered. Panic mixed with confusion, and you instinctively pulled back, halting him in his tracks.

He turned to face you, a flicker of concern flashing in his eyes as he noticed your resistance. His brows knit together, and his lips parted to question you, but you spoke first.

“Hongjoong,” you began, your voice a mixture of firm and hesitant, “you have guests. This is your event. You can’t just leave them here like this. What if they notice you’re gone? What if it leaves a bitter taste in their mouths? They’re—”

“I don’t give a damn about what they think,” he interrupted, his tone sharp yet desperate. His voice cracked ever so slightly, and it was enough to make you pause. “To hell with it if they think I’m irresponsible. I don’t care if they’re disappointed, or if they whisper behind my back. All I care about is you—just you. I need you to talk to me tonight—that’s all that matters. So, please…”

The intensity in his gaze, the way his voice broke on the word please, made your chest tighten painfully. You sighed, defeated by his resolve but unwilling to make this easy for him.

When he reached for your arm again, you took a step back, hiding it behind you as you shook your head. “You don’t have to drag me with you,” you said, your tone cold but your heart racing. “I have two feet that function perfectly fine, you know.”

For a moment, his face fell—hurt flashed across his features so quickly it was almost imperceptible, but you saw it. And as much as it made guilt twist in your stomach, you knew you had every right to set boundaries. After all, he had been the one to build the fire between the two of you, only to extinguish it when you were most vulnerable.

Still, he nodded, accepting your terms without argument. A couple of minutes later, you found yourself stepping into his office on the highest floor of the building.

The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of the city lights seeping in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows. Papers were scattered across his desk, some even littering the floor. It wasn’t dirty, but it wasn’t the meticulously organized space you remembered from your last visit. The disarray was a stark contrast to the Hongjoong you knew—or thought you knew.

He closed the door behind him, the soft click echoing in the silence. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The tension in the room was palpable, thick enough to suffocate.

“I know,” he began, his voice low and rough, “that I’ve been a mess. That I’ve been unfair to you.” He turned toward you, his hands twitching at his sides as if he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I’m not going to stand here and pretend like I haven’t made mistakes. I have. I’ve made so many mistakes.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the desk to steady yourself. “Then why?” you asked, your voice sharper than you intended. “Why did you do it? Why did you build this thing between us only to tear it apart?”

Hongjoong’s shoulders sagged, and he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “Because I was scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “That night… at your doorstep… I almost kissed you. I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But I was standing at the edge of a cliff, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to fall.”His words sent a sharp pang through your chest. “So you weren’t scared to fall when you were dancing with me at the flower shop?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “When you’d look at me like I was the only person in the world? When you kept lighting the fire between us? You weren’t scared to do all of that, but the moment we almost kissed, suddenly you’re scared?”

He flinched at your words, and for a brief moment, you saw the guilt etched into his features.

“I was scared of what it meant,” he confessed, his voice rising slightly in desperation. “I was terrified, because I didn’t know what would happen if I let myself fall for you. I thought if I stayed away, I’d be sparing you—”

“Sparing me?” you interrupted, your voice rising as tears stung your eyes. “Sparing me from what, Hongjoong? From feeling like I was nothing to you? From crying myself to sleep because the one person I trusted to stay decided to leave? You weren’t sparing me. You were sparing yourself.”

“I know,” he said, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “I know, and I hate myself for it. But I couldn’t—”

“Couldn’t what?” you snapped, your chest heaving as the floodgates burst. “Couldn’t handle the thought of being vulnerable? Couldn’t deal with the possibility of getting hurt? Newsflash, Hongjoong: you hurt me. You left me to deal with everything on my own while you ran away. What are you so scared of?”

“I’ve spent so much of my life building walls, focusing on my work, convincing myself that I didn’t need anyone. But you…” He took a shaky step toward you. “You made me want more. And it terrified me.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” you snapped, your voice cracking as tears burned at the corners of your eyes. “Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You pulled me in, Hongjoong. You made me believe in something I didn’t think I could have. And then you pushed me away like I was nothing.”

He winced, his head hanging low. “I know,” he said softly. “I know I was an asshole. I know I shouldn’t have waited this long to talk to you. But—”

“It’s not too late,” you cut him off, your voice quieter but no less firm. “It’s just that you could’ve done this sooner. You had every chance to speak to me, and you didn’t. Why only now?”

He stepped closer, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness. “Because I’ve realized that I can’t keep running from this. From you. I don’t care how long it takes or how hard it is—I’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. To fix us. Just tell me how, and I’ll do it. Please…”

His voice broke, and the raw emotion in it shattered the last of your defenses. All the pain, resentment, and longing you had bottled up came rushing to the surface.

“You don’t get to just say that and expect everything to be okay!” you cried, your voice rising as tears spilled down your cheeks. “Do you know how many nights I stayed up thinking about you? About what I did wrong—and why I wasn’t enough?”

Hongjoong reached for you, pulling you into his arms despite your attempts to push him away. You pounded your fists weakly against his chest, but he didn’t let go. His hands cradled the back of your head, his lips pressing softly against your temple as you sobbed into his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so, so sorry. You were always enough. More than enough. This is on me. All of it.”

Your fists stilled against his chest, and you let out a choked sob, clinging to him as all the anger and frustration poured out of you.

He held you tighter, his presence grounding you even as your emotions threatened to drown you. And in that moment, you realized that as much as you wanted to hate him, as much as you wanted to push him away—you couldn’t. Not entirely.

The silence between you stretched thin, taut like a wire ready to snap. Hongjoong’s arms remained firmly around you, his hands gently gripping your arms as if afraid you might slip away. His gaze bore into you, raw and pleading, but you couldn’t look at him without feeling the sting of all the nights you cried over his absence.

“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he began, his voice hoarse as though the words clawed their way out of him. “But I’m here now, and I’m begging you. Just—please, let me fix this. Let me fix us. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

You pulled back slightly, enough to meet his eyes, and the sight of him broke your heart all over again. His eyes were glassy, brimmed with tears he was clearly fighting to hold back. The vulnerability in his expression was a stark contrast to the confident, composed man you thought you knew.

“And what if it’s not enough?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if no matter how hard you try, it won’t erase the pain you’ve caused? Do you even realize what you did to me, Hongjoong?”

“I do,” he said quickly, embracing you even tighter as though afraid you’d vanish if he let go. “I know I broke you. I know I left you alone when you needed me most. And I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I swear, I’ll never make that mistake again. Just tell me how to fix this—tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “You say that now, but what about when things get hard again? Will you run away then too? Will you leave me to pick up the pieces while you figure out how to handle your emotions?”

“No,” he said firmly, his voice rising with desperation. “I won’t. I know I’ve been a coward, and I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I’ll earn it back. I’ll prove to you that I’m not the same person who hurt you. I… Iʼll admit I really thought placing a wall between us was the solution. I thought I was doing the right thing. But I was wrong. So fucking wrong. I’ve spent every single day regretting it, hating myself for the pain I caused you. And I’m here now because I can’t keep living like this—I can’t keep living without you, goddamnit.His words hit you like a tidal wave, threatening to pull you under. You wanted to believe him, to let yourself fall into the safety of his arms, but the scars he left on your heart made it impossible to trust him fully.

Still, you wanted to.

“I hate you, you know,” you said, your voice trembling as the words spilled out like shards of glass. Each one was sharp, cutting through the silence, through the air that seemed too thick to breathe. Tears ran down your cheeks in an unrelenting stream, and you didn’t bother to wipe them away. Your fists clenched at your sides, the tremor in them betraying the rawness of your emotions.

“I hate how you left me in the middle of a path I was unfamiliar with,” you continued, your tone rising with every syllable. “I hate how much of a coward you are. I hate how you made me believe there was something between us, only for you to act like there wasn’t. I hate how you kept me wondering why I wasn’t enough for you to stay.”

Your voice cracked on the last word, and you felt yourself breaking all over again, like a dam collapsing under the weight of too much pressure.

“But…” You paused, choking on the lump in your throat. “But mostly, I hate the way I don’t hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

The admission hung in the air, a fragile truth that seemed to silence everything around you. And as the words left your lips, you let your arms find their way around his figure, clinging to him with a desperation that mirrored the ache your heart felt.

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into the fabric of his shirt. His arms came around you almost instinctively, holding you tightly as though afraid you might slip away if he loosened his grip even slightly. The faint, familiar scent of him—the one you’d tried so hard to forget—engulfed you, pulling you deeper into the spiral of emotions you’d fought to keep at bay.

You idiot, you thought to yourself, you absolute fool.

You had come here tonight to forget him, to push the memories of him into a corner of your mind you could lock away forever. Yet here you were, sobbing into his chest like the heartache of the past weeks hadn’t been enough. You hated how much you’d missed him, how much you still craved the safety of his arms even after everything he’d put you through.

Hongjoong held you close, his own chest tightening with every sob that wracked your body. He rested his cheek against the crown of your head, his breath hitching as he tried to steady himself. How could he have done this to you?

The sight of you like this—so fragile, so broken—was a knife to his heart. And knowing he was the one who had caused this pain made the guilt nearly unbearable. He’d spent weeks convincing himself that pushing you away was the right thing to do, that he was protecting himself, protecting you. But standing here now, with you trembling in his arms, he realized how horribly wrong he’d been.

The fears that had haunted him for so long—the fear of being abandoned again, of opening his heart only to have it shattered—no longer mattered. Because nothing, no ghost from his past, no amount of uncertainty, was more important than you.

He didnʼt care anymore. He didnʼt care about anything but you.

He closed his eyes, his lips pressing softly against your temple. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “For everything. For hurting you, for being a coward. I’m so sorry, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll let me.”

You sniffled, lifting your head slightly from his chest. His hands moved instinctively, one cupping your face while the other rested on your waist, steadying you. His thumb brushed away the tear tracks on your cheek, and when you finally met his gaze, the raw vulnerability in his eyes made your breath catch.

Hongjoong looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, his own tears threatening to spill over. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. He didn’t need to speak; the emotions in his eyes said everything.

And against your better judgment, against every ounce of self-preservation you’d tried to cling to, you found yourself leaning in.

The moment your lips met, it was as though the world outside ceased to exist. The kiss was slow but full of urgency, a culmination of every unspoken word, every suppressed feeling, every moment of longing that had built up between you.

Fireworks exploded in the distance, the sound echoing through the air as the clock struck twelve.

The kiss was not rushed, nor was it perfect; it was trembling, raw, and unpolished. It was the kind of kiss that could only come from a place of deep yearning, a place where words had failed and only touch could suffice.

Hongjoong’s lips were soft against yours, moving with an unspoken gentleness that contradicted the storm of emotions swirling between you. It wasn’t about passion or desire—it was about connection, about pouring every unsaid word and buried feeling into this single, fragile moment. His touch was tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, but when you didn’t, he kissed you deeper, his hands steadying you as if to anchor you both.

The world around you seemed to dissolve into nothingness. The distant sound of fireworks faded into a muffled hum, the sharp chill of the night forgotten. All that remained was the warmth of his lips and the way your heart thundered in your chest, not from nerves but from the overwhelming sensation of being wholly, undeniably seen.

His hand cupped your cheek with a reverence that made you feel like you were something sacred, something he was terrified of breaking yet couldn’t bear to let go of. His thumb brushed against your skin, a subtle, tender movement that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

For the first time in weeks, the ache in your chest began to ease, replaced by a bittersweet warmth that spread through your entire being. The kiss wasn’t just an apology; it was a confession, a plea, a promise. It carried every moment you’d spent apart, every sleepless night, every tear you’d shed. It was as though he was trying to stitch back together every broken piece of your heart, not with grand gestures but with the simplicity of his presence and the sincerity in his touch.

And you kissed him back just as softly, your movements hesitant but full of meaning. It wasn’t forgiveness—not yet—but it was a surrender. A quiet acknowledgement that no matter how much he had hurt you, no matter how hard you had tried to let him go, he was still there, embedded in every corner of your heart.

You could feel his tears against your skin, hot and unrelenting, as they mixed with your own. Yet, he didn’t pull away; he stayed, pressing closer as though afraid that even a breath of space might shatter this fragile moment. His lips trembled against yours, betraying his vulnerability, his desperation, his overwhelming relief.

It was soft, painfully so, like the brush of a feather or the first tentative notes of a love song. And yet, it carried the weight of everything—the pain, the longing, the fear, and the undeniable truth that no matter how broken the two of you had been, you were still standing here, together, trying.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads nearly pressed together, both of you breathing heavily, as though the kiss had stolen every ounce of air from your lungs. His eyes met yours, glistening with unshed tears, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you saw him—truly saw him. Not the man who had hurt you, not the coward who had run away, but the boy you had once fallen for, the boy who was still fighting to be worthy of you.

Coming to terms with what just happened, your cheeks flushed, and it seems he still noticed it despite the dim, ambient surroundings engulfing both of you, given the way he smiled.

And in that moment, as the bright hues of fireworks lit up the sky, you realized something: this wasn’t an ending. It wasn’t even a beginning. It was a moment suspended in time, a fragile, imperfect truce between two hearts that refused to let go of each other, no matter how much they had tried.

🎞️ — lividstar.

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

44 notes View Post

beabatiny

4 months ago

the moment between hongjoong and reader about reader’s brother was really sweet, but I can’t help but be nervous for whatever seonghwa and dann (mainly seonghwa) have planned cause I know it’s going to involve mike and other secrets we may not know about reader yet.

I’m excited for the next part and keep up the great work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆04: The first surrender.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!reader

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

wc: 8,5k

Summary: Alliances and secrets simmer beneath the surface as relationships are tested. Whispers of a returning precense cast shadow over your carefully controlled world.

Amid growing tension, nothing is as it seems, and trust becomes a dangerous gamble.

Warnings: Cursing, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, SMUT (MDN!!) Virgin! Hongjoong, oral (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, cum eating, use of pet names (good boy, baby, babe, pretty) suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆03 ☆05: The first fracture.

YN♡: I hope you enjoy your return to the losers’ club, ungrateful pet.

Those words feel like a slap in the face, but there's a part of him that can't deny the sting of guilt. Hongjoong had stood up to you, and now, he was being pushed away.

He feels conflicted, like he's torn between two sides of himself.

On one hand, you have everything he’s always wanted, popularity, control, power. On the other hand, he can’t help but feel a flicker of empathy for Dann, even if it’s not enough to overpower his desire to keep his place in your world.

The past three days have been agonizing for Hongjoong. Your cold text still lingered in his mind, your words cutting deeper than he expected.

He wasn’t sure what stung more: being labeled an 'ungrateful pet' or the realization that you had the power to decide his social fate.

In the hallways, the change was immediate and brutal. Your circle avoided him entirely, with Mindy, Wooyoung and the others offering smug smirks or outright ignoring his greetings.

The glances from the rest of the school stung even more, whispers of, 'Guess YN dumped her charity case,' followed him everywhere.

Hongjoong tried to go back to his old routine, hanging out with Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho and Dann in the library, but it wasn’t the same. The nerdy jokes and shared interests felt hollow, overshadowed by his embarrassment.

He couldn’t stop feeling like he’d failed… failed you, failed himself, and maybe even failed Dann.

“Joong, are you okay?” Dann’s voice pulls him from his thoughts during lunch.

Her gaze is soft but cautious. He knows she is trying to reconnect with him, but guilt twists in his stomach.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He mumbles, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth to avoid saying more.

But Dann isn’t convinced. She has noticed how his shoulders slump when your table erupts into laughter or how his eyes flicker toward you every time you walk by, as if waiting for something.

Was he regretting standing up for her? She wondered, unsure whether to feel gratitude or guilt herself.

✮ ⋆

Brat woo: Party at my place tonight, babydoll!! We’re gonna get lit!!

You smirk as you read Wooyoung's text. Typical of Woo, his personality is always bright and comfy.

You bit your lip, twirling a strand of your perfectly styled hair as an idea formed in your mind.

YN: Invite Hongjoong, too.

The three dots appear almost immediately, followed by Woo’s response.

Brat oo: Babydoll, why would I invite him?

Brat woo: Isn’t he banned from your bad bitches club?

You laugh at his last message as you lean back against your plush chair, crossing one leg over the other. Your perfectly manicured nails taps the edge of your phone as you craft a reply.

YN: Yeah, but invite him.

YN: It would be fun, babe.

Brat woo: Fine. But you owe me a blowjob, doll.

You scoff rolling your eyes, and you prefer not to bother replying. You knew Wooyoung well enough to predict he’d follow through.

You lock your phone and you get up to head to your closet, it's time to look for something cute to wear tonight.

✮ ⋆

His first instinct was to assume it was a mistake. Jung Wooyoung wasn’t his friend. The last party held at his house was amazing and he treated him like they were friends for years, but it was only because he was with you... but not anymore.

Hongjoong read the message again, searching for some hidden sarcasm or trap.

J Wooyoung: Party at my place tonight, you must come.

Why would Wooyoung invite him?

Was this a chance to prove himself again? To get back into your orbit? The thought makes his chest tighten with both excitement and dread.

His phone buzzes with another text, this time from Dann.

Dann: Hey, wanna hang out tonight? We could watch that weird series you’ve been talking about.”

He hesitates, guilt creeping in. Spending time with Dann sounded comfortable, easy, even, but the allure of Jung’s party looms large in his mind. And then, an idea struck him.

He quickly types a reply.

Joong: Actually, wanna come with me to a party tonight?

Dann: What? A party? With whom?

Joong: Jung Wooyoung invited me.

Joong: It’s at his place. You should come.

His reply is almost casually, as if it weren’t a big deal. There is a pause before Dann’s next message comes through.

Dann: Joong, that sounds… weird. Why would Wooyoung invite you? And why are YOU inviting me?

Dann: I remind you that the last time I went to a party, everything went wrong!

Hongjoong frowns, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He didn't think that far ahead, but now that Dann brought it up, the invite does seem odd. Still, he can't let her skepticism damp his resolve.

Joong: Does it matter? It’s a party, Dann. It could be fun. We haven’t done anything like this in forever.”

Dann: I don’t know…

Joong: Come on!! It’ll be fine.

Joong: You’ll be with me the whole time.

Joong: If it sucks, we can leave.

Another pause, longer this time. Finally, her reply comes through.

Dann: Okay… I’ll go.

Dann: But if this turns into some kind of disaster, you owe me, Joong.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He tosses his phone into the bed and starts rifling through his closet, searching for something that looks remotely party-appropriate.

This is it, he thought, half to reassure himself. This is my chance to prove I’m not just a nobody anymore.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The party is already in full swing when you step through the door, your entrance commanding attention as always.

Wooyoung is the first to greet you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in a casual, brotherly way.

“About time, babydoll.” He teases, steering you further into the house “You’ve got people asking for you already.”

You smirk, brushing a perfectly styled strand of hair from your face.

“Good. Let them wait. it builds anticipation.”

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the crowd of familiar faces. The thrum of music, the faint haze of smoke, and the sharp scent of expensive cologne feel like home. But tonight, it’s not the crowd you’re interested in.

“Did you do it?”

He glances at your sideways, catching the subtle edge in your voice “Yeah, I invited him. He is coming, right?” Woo asks casually, though there’s a glint of mischief in his tone.

You nod, lips curving into a sly smile “Of course he will. Thanks for the invite.”

“Anything for you, Queen Bee.” Woo chuckles, patting your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

You barely take two steps before Seonghwa appears in your path, leaning casually against the doorframe of the kitchen as if he’s been waiting.

“You really showed up.” He says, his tone teetering between disbelief and sarcasm.

“Obviously, miss out on this? Never.”

His sharp eyes rake over you, the casual air he projects cracking just slightly.

“So, you brought him here?”

You lift your chin, feigning innocence “Who?”

“You know who,” Hwa says, his voice dropping “The nerd.”

“Oh, him. He’s just part of the fun, but he is not coming with me today.”

“Fun,” Hwa repeats bitterly, stepping closer “That’s what you’re calling it?”

You don't back down “You’re awfully concerned for someone who’s supposed to be done with me.”

The jab hits, and Hwa’s jaw tightens “We’ve been through a lot, Clarke. I know how you operate, and this is reckless—even for you.”

“Reckless?” You scoff, taking a deliberate step toward him “Spare me the lecture, Seonghwa. If you’re so worried, maybe you should focus on your own vices. Or do you need me to remind you how much recklessness you’ve been indulging in lately?”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenched “You always twist things around, don’t you?”

You tilt your head, a flicker of amusement dancing in your gaze “Only when necessary.”

The tension between them hums like a live wire, but before either can escalate further, you sigh and soften your tone.

“Look, Hwa, I get it. You’re mad because I’ve been spending time with Hongjoong. But you and I both know this—whatever this is—doesn’t have to be like this.”

Seonghwa’s perfect brows knit together, his posture relaxing just slightly “And what’s ‘this,’ YN? Because it feels like we’re always walking the same damn line.”

“Friends,” You say firmly, though your voice carries a hint of warmth “We’ve been friends forever, haven’t we? Almost more than friends, at times. I’m not throwing that away just because we’ve hit a rough patch.”

He studies you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he exhales and runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, you’ve always been good at getting under my skin. Guess I should be used to it by now.”

You smile, a real one this time “You should. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean for things to get so tense between us. Truce?”

Hwa hesitates but eventually extends a hand, his lips quivering into a faint smirk-

“Truce. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook completely.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You say, shaking his hand briefly before pulling him into a quick hug.

As they pull apart, Wooyoung reappears, his grin as wide as ever “See? Told you it’s a party, not a courtroom.”

Both of you laugh, the tension finally dissipating. After all, you've been friends since you were kids, fighting over who got the best gifts or who got the most toys during Christmas.

Yes, maybe fights always were and will always be frequent, but the bond you created will always be there, whether as friends or as lovers. And no one can deny it.

✮ ⋆

The laughter still bubbles around you and friends as you relax on the plush couch in the middle of the buzzing party. The low hum of music blends with the chatter of your friends, creating the perfect backdrop for your carefree moment.

You perched elegantly with your cocktail in hand, tossing your hair back with a playful smirk.

“Remember when you told everyone I cried about losing that silly bet when we went to Meeru Island in the Maldives?” Mingi says, aiming a mock glare at Wooyoung.

He chuckles, shrugging. “You did cry, Mingi. Like, full-on wailing. I saved you from complete humiliation by telling everyone you were faking it.”

“You’re insufferable, Woo.” You lean forward to swat at him, but your grin betrays your amusement.

San joins you, plopping down on the armrest beside Seonghwa, his beer in hand.

“God, you two never change. Should we get you a reality show or something?”

Mingi rolls his eyes but laughs along, the tension from you and Hwa's little fight seemingly evaporating. It’s like old times again, your rhythm unshaken.

Then Woo’s gaze shifts toward the entrance, and his playful expression stiffens slightly.

“Uh… you told me to invite him, but I didn’t think he’d actually show up.”

You follow Wooyoung’s line of sight, your smile freezing as you spot Hongjoong stepping into the house. His attempts at looking casual—down to his carefully chosen shirt and forced grin—betray the nerves he’s clearly trying to hide.

But it’s not just him. Dann is with him, hovering awkwardly at his side.

Seonghwa notices too, his smirk turning razor-sharp “Well, if it isn’t the exile. You sure know how to pick your projects, Clarke.”

Your grip on the empty glass tightens ever so slightly before you recover, placing it calmly on the coffee table. You rise with an air of detachment, smoothing your short silk black dress.

“Don’t start, Hwa.”

Hwa leans back, watching you with an amused glint “I don’t need to. This show writes itself.”

Ignoring him, you stride toward the entrance, movements deliberate, your heels clicking against the polished floor.

Hongjoong’s face lights up with hope when he sees you approach, but you don't acknowledge it.

“Enjoying the party?” You ask coolly, your gaze sweeping over both Hongjoong and Dann.

“Uh, yeah,” He says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly “Thanks for—”

“Wooyoung invited you,” You interrupt, your eyes flick to Dann, your lips curving into a smile that’s anything but friendly “Didn’t realize you’d be bringing… extras.”

Dann stiffens under your gaze “I just came because Joong—”

“I didn’t ask,” You cut her off smoothly. your focus shifts back to Hongjoong “Enjoy the party, and stay out of my way.”

Before Hongjoong can respond, you turn on your heel, heading back to the couch where all your friends are waiting, barely containing their laughter.

“That was subtle.” Mingi teases as you sit back down.

You pick up another drink and take a long sip, your face calm but your mind racing. You had ordered Jung to invite him, but seeing him here, with Dann of all people, scratches at your carefully curated control.

Seonghwa leans closer, his voice low “Trying to make him mad, huh? Gotta admit, it’s fun to watch.”

You don't reply, your gaze lingering on Kim as he and Dann hover near the edge of the room. The party continues to swirl around you, but the game you’re playing tonight is only just beginning.

“Let's go dance.”

And without waiting for an answer, you drag Seonghwa to the center of the dance floor.

✮ ⋆

The party pulses around Hongjoong, but all he can see is you. You were radiant, laughing as you danced with Seonghwa, your hand grazing his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Weren't you supposed to be on bad terms? He threatened you a few days ago and now you act as if none of that has happened.

Every glance, every touch, feels like a slap to Hongjoong’s face, and when your eyes meet his for a brief moment across the room, he knows it wasn’t accidental.

Dann stands beside him, trying to engage him in conversation or distract him with sarcastic comments about the crowd, but he barely responds.

His guilt over snapping at her earlier only adds to the storm brewing inside him.

As the night goes on, you and Seonghwa grow bolder. You dance closer, bodies pressing together in a way that feels almost taunting. Your hand trails lazily over Hwa’s chest as you throw a sly glance over your shoulder, directly at Hongjoong.

He can't take it anymore.

“I need a minute.” He mutters to Dann before walking away.

He finds you in the corner of the room, laughing at something Seonghwa had said. Your head tilts back, the sparkle in your eyes brighter than ever. You look utterly in control, utterly untouchable.

“YN.” Hongjoong says, his voice tight.

You turn to him, your expression cool and unimpressed “Hongjoong, enjoying the party?”

“I…” He hesitates, glancing at the tallest, who stands smirking at him like he knows exactly how pathetic he feels.

“Spit it out.” You cross your arms waiting for his next words.

Hongjoong swallows hard, his pride crumbling under the weight of your icy stare.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask, feigning ignorance as you raise an eyebrow.

“For… for defending Dann.” He admits, the words tasting bitter on his tongue “I shouldn’t have done it. I wasn’t thinking. Please, YN. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips “Is that so?”

“Please, YN. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. That phrase sounds kinda familiar. Your gaze sweeps over him with an air of detached amusement.

“Anything?”

“Yes.” He said, desperation dripping from every syllable.

“Prove it.”

He looks at you confused, unsure what you mean. But when you point at the floor with a slight nod, his heart sinks.

Here? Now?

The party is still bustling around them, and though the music is loud, he knows there are enough eyes on them to make this moment humiliating.

But the thought of losing your favor, of being cast back into obscurity, is unbearable.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you like the first time he did it. The weight of the action crushed the little pride he had left.

“I’m sorry,” His voice trembling as he looks up at you “Please, YN. Forgive me.”

Your lips curve into a slow smile, and you reach down, brushing your fingers along his jaw.

“Good boy.”

Without another word, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. Ignoring the stares of the partygoers—and the way Seonghwa’s amuse chuckle follows them—You lead him through the crowd and up the stairs.

Hongjoong’s pulse races as you push open the door to an empty room, shutting it firmly behind you.

“YN, I—” He starts, but you silence him with a finger to his lips.

You step closer, a hand sliding up his chest before tangling in the collar of his shirt. Your lips hover just above his, teasing him, your breath warm against his skin.

“You want me to forgive you, don’t you?” You whisper against his lips.

“Yes…” He breathes, his voice shaking.

“Then show me how sorry you are.” You say as your lips finally crash into his.

The kiss is rough, demanding, leaving Hongjoong breathless as your hands roam over him.

You push him into the edge of the bed, your confidence unwavering as you climb into his lap.

“Make it up to me.” You murmur against his ear, your tone lace with both seduction and dominance.

The room remains shrouded in heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing and the soft rustling of fabric as your hands continue their work.

Hongjoong sits before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes glazed with a mix of guilt, desire, and submission. He’s completely under your control, each deliberate movement you make reinforcing your hold over him.

You trail your nails lightly down his chest, exposed now as his shirt hangs loose from his shoulders.

“See, Joongie,” You purr, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his neck “When you beg like that, it reminds me how much you want to be here… how much you need me.”

He shivers under your touch, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words come out. His mind is a haze, lost in you—your voice, your touch, the overwhelming weight of your presence.

He feels as if he’s drowning, yet he doesn’t want to come up for air.

Your lips return to his, capturing him in a kiss so intense it steals his breath. His hands caressing from your waist to your bare legs as you tug him closer, your hands tangling in his hair, ensuring there’s no escape.

Not that he wants one.

Your smirk deepens as you lean closer, your fingers curling under his chin to tilt his face up. Your dominance is unshakable, your presence commanding every ounce of his attention.

“On your knees.”

You order, carrying a weight that leaves no room for protest as you get off his lap to sit next to him on the bed.

Hongjoong’s breath hitches. His mind scrambles for a response, but the intensity of your gaze renders him silent. Swallowing hard, he glances around the empty room, then back at you, his cheeks already red when he sees you spread your legs.

He thinks he knows what you want him to do, and that makes him more nervous.

“YN, I don’t know—”

“Do you trust me or not?” You interrupt, fingers trailing down to his collar, tugging him forward “You said you’d do anything for me, didn’t you?”

Caught in your words and unwavering stare, Hongjoong nods hesitantly.

“I do.” He whispered.

“Then show me.”

Slowly, he slides down to his knees, the fabric of his jeans scraping lightly against the floor. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, unsure of where they should go, as he looks up at you, his wide eyes fill with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

He's never done this before. He's seen it in porn videos but still doesn't know exactly what to do.

Your fingers slip into his hair, touch firm but not rough, and you guide him closer with a slow, deliberate motion.

“I always tell you this. Relax, Hongjoong, I’ll take care of you.”

Your other hand moves to the hem of your dress, slipping it up just enough to expose the soft fabric of your black panties.

Hongjoong’s gaze drops instinctively, his breath catching in his throat as his pulse races.

“Focus, Joongie.” You tease, tugging lightly on his hair to draw his attention back to your face “Start slow. I want to feel how much you want my forgiveness.”

With shaky hands, he rests his palms on your soft thighs, his touch hesitant and careful, the cold of his rings making you shiver.

You guide him lower, your smirk never wavering as his lips brush against your thighs.

The warmth of your skin, the faint scent of your perfume, the weight of your hand in his hair—all of it consumes him.

His inexperience is obvious, but you don't mind. You encourage him with soft sighs and subtle movements, your hips tilting forward slightly as he grows bolder, leaving little bites on your inner thighs as his fingers play with the edge of your panties, sliding them down slowly.

He starts taking his time dishing out kisses and biting on both thighs, making you impatient.

You let out a whimper pulling his hair slightly “Hongjoong… hurry up and eat me out.”

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong feels confident enough to smile mockingly against your delicate skin.

You, begging him to touch you? He never imagined it.

Still holding his smile, he slides your panties all the way down to your ankles, and removes them eagerly, leaving on your pretty high heels.

When he returns to his starting position between your thighs, he can't avoid looking to your bare core, all glossy with slick. He bites his lip at the sight.

Did he provoke that?

“Joong...” You reproach again with a whine.

You really need him to do something on his own or you'll force him to sink into your folds right now. You've never felt so desperate before, so eager for someone to touch you.

Hongjoong smiles again, your whiney voice turning him on.

The dry humping in your car, the blowjob in the empty classroom, and all the little make outs can not compare to this. Your pussy inches from his face, your hand tugging his hair and your desperate form waiting for him to touch you.

Fuck, he can’t believe this is happening.

With the highest confidence ever, even though he keeps in mind that he does not know what he is doing, he leans towards your pussy, giving a long lick that makes both of you moan in pleasure.

His warm tongue explores every millimeter of your womanhood, you whine as Hongjoong swipe his tongue up and down your wet slit, taking all your slick on his mouth.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby.” He says without realizing his words, his mind already cloudy.

You open your mouth in surprise at his daring words, you swear you feel more arousal coming out of your cunt.

“Fuck, Hongjoong…” You tighten your grip on his hair, forcing him to sink his head further and he lets you do it gladly, smiling against you “Ah… f-fuck me with your tongue, babe.”

And he does, he leaves your swollen clit to play with his tongue rubbing around your entrance, making you whine desperately.

He snorts with fun when you pull his hair harder, he is loving the way you’re acting, all whiny and desperate for him.

Without making you wait any longer, he slowly introduces his long tongue in your core.

He moans when he hears you do it and starts moving his tongue in and out, your walls clenching on it, his nose rubbing your clit, and his hands squeezing your thighs, bringing you closer to his mouth.

You arch your back, squirming and moaning under his exquisite touch. You never imagined that a virgin nerd like him could eat pussy so well.

Fuck, you never imagined he'd ever do this to you.

“That’s it,” You whisper, voice breathy but firm “Just… just like that, Joong.”

Each sound you make spur him on, his nervousness slowly giving way to determination. He wants to please you, to prove that he is worthy of your forgiveness, even if he doesn't fully know what he is doing.

Your breathing quickening as you tilt your head back “Good boy…” You murmur, your words sending a shiver down his spine.

The tension in the air is electric, every movement charged with a mix of control and surrender.

As your soft moans grow louder, Hongjoong can't help but feel a sense of pride, his confidence building with each passing moment.

✮ ⋆

The music blared through the speakers, the heavy bass vibrating the walls of Wooyoung’s mansion. Dann squeezed through groups of laughing, dancing people, her eyes scanning the crowd.

She’d been looking for Hongjoong for what felt like forever.

She finally spots Jung Wooyoung leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand, and his signature easygoing grin in place.

Relief washes over her as she approaches him. She has never interacted with him, but she must find Joong.

“Wooyoung,” She calls out, raising her voice above the music “Have you seen Hongjoong?”

Jung tilts his head, his expression is a grimace when he sees her. He's drunk but he doesn't remember inviting this loser to his party, much less knowing the grudge you have against her.

“Little Hongjoong?” He echoes, taking a slow sip from his drink “Yeah, he went upstairs. With babydoll.” At Dann's confused expression, he rolls his eyes “He is upstairs with YN.”

Dann’s stomach drops at his words, her brows knitting together.

“With YN?” She repeats, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Wooyoung nods, smirking “Yep. Upstairs. Why? You jealous or something?” His tone is teasing, but Dann doesn’t have the energy to respond.

She turns on her heel and heads for the stairs, her heart pounding with every step. As she climbs, the noise of the party grows muffled, replaced by the quieter sounds of her own breathing and the creak of the steps.

Her mind races with thoughts she doesn’t want to entertain.

Why would Hongjoong be with you? After everything, after all the tension between you?

She reaches the top of the stairs and pauses before she approaches the only door that is closed in the hallway. Something tells her that they are both in there.

Her hand hesitates on the doorknob, her heart hammering against her ribs. Slowly, she pushes it open, the hinges creaking softly.

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight before her.

There you are—You and Hongjoong. You’re laying on the big bed, moaning as your hands grip Hongjoong’s hair while he is between your legs.

Hongjoong’s shirt is half-unbuttoned, hanging loosely off his shoulders, and his hands grip your thighs tightly, pulling you closer.

Dann’s chest tightens as a sharp pang of betrayal and hurt courses through her. She stands frozen in the doorway, her fingers gripping the frame as she struggles to make sense of what she’s seeing.

Neither you nor Hongjoong notice her. You’re too consumed by each other. The intensity of Hongjoong’s movements speaks volumes, and he is clearly enjoying being there.

Your dominance is evident too, your control absolute, while Hongjoong seems lost, entirely under your spell.

Dann bites her lip, willing herself not to cry as she takes a shaky step back. The scene before her is a confirmation of every fear she’s tried to suppress.

She retreats into the hallway, her heart aching with every step.

Downstairs, the party rages on, oblivious to the turmoil in Dann’s chest.

✮ ⋆

“Joong… I’m close.” You announce closing your eyes shut and your whines get louder, the pleasure is too much to handle.

At your words, Hongjoong places his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking and pulling at it, and without you expecting it, he thrust two of his fingers into your narrow entrance, making you open your eyes and groan in surprise.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You quickly lift yourself up on your elbow to get a better view of him eating you like a starved man, It is certainly a spectacular sight.

His eyes closed in concentration, his warm mouth on your pussy and his fingers caressing the right places in your tight cunt.

Shit…. Is he really a virgin? Because this is the best oral sex you have ever received.

“L-look at me… look at me, baby.” You order him and he immediately obeys, looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty doe eyes make a wave of pleasure run through your body “F-fuck… gonna cum, baby. K-keep going.” You moan again tilting your head back, your eyes rolling back “J-just like that…”

Damn, Hongjoong swears that this is the best view in the world, your mouth agape, eyes rolling back, you saying his name like a fucking mantra, this will undoubtedly be an image that will stay in his mind forever.

“Cum for me, pretty… cum on my mouth.”

He doesn't know where that sentence came from but he can't help it, the adrenaline of the moment has his mind clouded.

With those words, you lose it. Your strength leaves your body when the well-known pressure on your abdomen appears, your grip on his hair becomes stronger and your legs begin to tremble from immense pleasure, your orgasm explodes like never before, leaving you breathless.

He moans in satisfaction, the taste of your slick driving him crazy, he moves his tongue everywhere collecting every drop of your orgasm, just like you did that day with him.

“Ah… fuck, Joong!” You squirm under his movements, feeling the beginning of overstimulation “Hongjoong… ‘s too much, baby.”

With a last lick and a wet kiss on your clit, Hongjoong lifts his head with a light smile.

He’s pussy drunk right now and you smile, taking him by the cheeks and bringing him closer to you to kiss him.

His lips are swollen and his chin is soaked with your fluids, he looks messy, but you don't care. The kiss is full of something special this time, you don't know if it's gratitude, warmth or love. But you're definitely enjoying it too much.

“Did I do it right?” He murmurs against your lips and he smiles when you nod.

“That was amazing.” You pull him back, your breathing uneven, your eyes meet his with a satisfied gleam “Not bad for your first time.”

Hongjoong remain above you, his chest heaving as he tries to process what had just happened.

You run a hand through his messy hair, glancing down at him with a mix of amusement and approval.

“Let’s go back to the party.” You add, leaning down to press a quick, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling back.

And Hongjoong smiles satisfied, satisfied to have your forgiveness

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The hallway outside Wooyoung’s upstairs den is dimly lit, the faint bassline of the party vibrating through the walls.

Dann leans against the banister, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to shield her from the storm raging in her chest. Her mind replays the image of you with Hongjoong in that compromising position.

She blinks back the sting of tears, her breath hitching.

“Pathetic,” She whispers to herself, trying to steal her resolve.

But the pain lingers, twisting deeper with each passing second.

“You look like hell.” A voice cuts through her thoughts, sharp yet strangely casual.

Dann startles, her wide eyes locking onto Seonghwa as he saunters out of the shadows. His shirt is half-buttoned, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

He takes a slow drag from a cigarette, the embers glowing faintly in the dim light.

“What do you want?” Dann’s voice wavers, a mix of anger and embarrassment as she hastily wipes at her cheeks.

Seonghwa tilts his head, smirking “Relax, I just happened to notice you running out of there like the world’s ending.” He exhales a thin trail of smoke, his eyes narrowing with mock “Saw something you didn’t like?”

Dann glares at him but says nothing. The silence between them grows heavy, thick with unspoken truths.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hwa finally says, leaning casually against the banister “Let me guess… Hongjoong and YN, all over each other like she hadn't kicked him out a week ago because of your little show in the cafeteria?”

His tone drips with derision, his smirk deepening when Dann flinches.

“Why are you telling me this?” She snaps, her voice cracking slightly “You’re supposed to be her friend, aren’t you?”

Hwa chuckles, low and mirthless “Friendship’s a funny thing, don’t you think? Especially when it comes to someone like YN.” He flicks the cigarette away, watching the faint glow disappear into the darkness “You think she really cares about anyone but herself?”

Dann’s gaze falters, the weight of his words settling over her.

“Look,” Hwa says, his voice softening just enough to sound sincere, “I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of YN’s little games. She’s been pulling this crap since we were kids, using people, discarding them when they’re no longer useful.”

Dann clenches her fists, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But Hongjoong isn’t like that.”

Hwa raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning “You sure about that? He dropped you pretty fast for her, didn’t he?”

Her breath catches, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she wants to admit.

“But here’s the thing,” Hwa continues, stepping closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially “YN’s not untouchable. She’s got secrets, vulnerabilities… things she wouldn’t want getting out.”

Dann looks up at him, confusion and hesitation warring in her eyes.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… if you really want to hit her where it hurts, I can help.”

The air between them crackles with tension. Dann hesitates, her instincts screaming at her to walk away.

But the memory of Hongjoong doing such a thing with you flashes through her mind again, the sting of betrayal fueling the embers of something darker.

“Why?” She asks cautiously, her voice steadier now.

Seonghwa’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with calculated charm

“Let’s just say I have my reasons. And besides…” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper “Don’t you want to see her fall?”

Dann swallows hard, the weight of his proposition pressing down on her. Her mind races, torn between doubt and the growing need to fight back.

Finally, she nods, her voice quiet but firm.

“Okay. I’m in.”

Hwa straightens, satisfaction flashing across his face “Good. Stick with me, and we’ll make sure YN regrets every move she’s made.”

As he walks away, Dann stands frozen, the faint echo of his footsteps fading into the music downstairs.

For the first time that night, she feels something other than pain—something sharp and dangerous, simmering just beneath the surface.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filters through the expansive windows of your house, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling living room.

You and Hongjoong sit cross-legged on the expensive carpet, a mess of images, glue sticks, and markers spread out between you. The project you’re working on is for the literature class—a visual timeline of key events in European history.

For once, you aren't delegating the work entirely to Hongjoong. Instead, you’re snipping pieces of paper with surprising focus, handing them over to him to paste onto the board.

“Here,” You say, holding up a carefully cut-out image of the Berlin Wall “Paste this next to the 1989 marker. And make it straight this time.”

Hongjoong smirks, taking the picture “Yes, pretty. Anything else you’d like me to do, Your Majesty?”

You roll your eyes but hide a smile “Just don’t mess it up. My grade’s on the line, too.”

You share a laugh, the recent nickname he loves to call you since that night at Wooyoung’s party makes you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Since that day, Hongjoong feels the ease between both of you—something he never thought possible just a few weeks ago. He doesn’t feel nervous or out of place anymore.

Being with you feels natural now, like he belongs here.

You lean back, brushing your hair over your shoulder, and look at him with a curious expression.

“You’re actually not bad at this. Who knew?”

He grins “Wow, high praise coming from you. Should I write this down?”

You smirk, tossing a crumpled piece of paper at him “Don’t push your luck, Kim.”

The banter continues, light and comfortable, until the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor interrupts them.

Your mother appears in the doorway, dressed immaculately as always, her gaze sweeping over the room.

“Oh! Hi, Hongjoong. Didn't know you were here.” Your mother greets him with a lovely smile

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clarke.” He bows his head politely.

“How are you doing with that guys?” She says while looking curiously at your project.

“Great, we’re having fun.” Hongjoong answers with a sweet smile and your mother giggles gracefully.

From the first time your mother met him, she was delighted with the boy, saying how handsome and polite he was.

“Incredible. Sweetie?” Now she addresses you and you hum in response “I wanted to let you know your brother will be returning from Germany next week. He finished his program early.”

You freeze, your hands stilling on the paper you're cutting. For a moment, a flicker of something—fear?—crosses your face.

“Oh…” You say, voice strained despite her attempt at nonchalance “That’s… great.”

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, as if detecting the unease.

“Yes. He’s looking forward to seeing you. I hope you’ll make him proud of how you’ve been handling things here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” You reply with a forced smile.

“Well, I'll let you continue with your work.” Your mother gives a curt nod before leaving the room.

Hongjoong glances at you, sensing the sudden shift in your mood.

“Mike?”

You exhale sharply, tossing the scissors aside “Yeah. My amazing brother. If he finds out I’ve been… well, less than perfect, he won’t hesitate to tell my parents.”

Hongjoong frowns “He sounds… intense.”

“You don’t know half of it.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. For a moment, your confident exterior falters, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Hongjoong reaches out, hesitating before placing a hand on yours.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happens, you’ll handle it. You’re YN, remember? You always do.”

You look at him, your expression softening “You’re sweet, you know that?”

He shrugs, a blush creeping up his neck “Just for you, pretty.”

You lean in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss.

“Let’s finish this project before my mother comes back and give you compliments just for existing”

Hongjooong chuckles, but he can’t shake the lingering thought of your brother. Whoever this guy is, he clearly has a hold over you—and that’s saying something.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dann quietly tidies up remnants of her lunch, her movements mechanical. She hasn’t spoken to Hongjoong in days. He doesn’t even look at her anymore.

But she notices the change in you—the way you smile more, laugh more, when Hongjoong is around you.

And Dann can’t help but feel the ache in her chest grow sharper with each passing moment.

How much she wishes she was in your place, to be so close to Hongjoong.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The house buzzes with quiet anticipation, the staff moving about with heightened energy. Your mother, dressed in her usual pristine elegance, stands in the center of the room, her voice carrying an air of authority but still kind.

“I want everything perfect for my son’s return,” She announces, her tone leaving no room for error “The table arrangements, the food, the decor—everything must reflect our family’s standards. He’ll be here in three days, and this dinner must welcome him properly. The whole family will come, so the banquet should be for twenty-five people.”

Dann crouches in the corner of the hallway, hidden behind a large vase. She had come to deliver your paperwork but froze when she overheard the conversation.

Her heart pounds as she listens, her mind racing. YN’s brother… She wouldn't know that the Clarkes have two children if it weren't for some pictures hanging on the walls, in all this time she never heard anyone mention it, not even your parents.

She knows almost nothing about him, but the little mention that Seonghwa made one day left her intrigued.

Why does no one in the family talk about that guy?

The moment your mother leaves the room, Dann slips out and makes her way to the backyard, her hands clutching the papers tightly.

She unlocks her phone in hand and calls Seonghwa.

He’s been a constant presence in her life these past two weeks—not as a friend, but as a partner in their silent pact.

In these weeks, Hwa has treated Dann with a mix of indifference and amusement. He never misses an opportunity to remind her of their deal, yet he’s never outright cruel.

For him, she’s a tool—a means to an end. But for Dann, every interaction feels like walking a tightrope, unsure when his charm might twist into something sharper.

“Seonghwa,” she calls softly when he picks up.

“Hi, what’s the news?”

Dann hesitates before speaking “YN’s brother… He’s coming back in three days. Her mom is planning this big welcome dinner for him.”

“The golden boy, huh? Interesting.”

“Interesting?” Dann blurts out before she can stop herself.

“Of course, it is. Daddy’s favorite, perfect older brother who can do no wrong? He’s probably the only one who can knock YN off her pedestal.”

Dann frowns, clutching her hands nervously “Are you sure about this?”

“Don't be scared, Seo, I’ll take care of everything.”

Dann isn’t comforted by his nonchalance, but she knows better than to push. Seonghwa isn’t someone who worries; he plans, manipulates, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

“Okay… bye.

Dann bites her lip, hanging up before walking back inside the house. But as she retreats, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s stepping deeper into a game she barely understands.

✮ ⋆

You lounge on the oversized velvet sofa in the living room, your legs tuck beneath you as you flip through the book Hongjoong recommended to you.

You’re not reading it—your eyes skim over the pages without absorbing a single word.

Around you, the house is abuzz with activity. Maids dust every surface, fluffing pillows to perfection.

A team of florists meticulously arranges extravagant bouquets in the foyer, filling the air with the overpowering scent of lilies and roses.

Your mother strides into the room, clipboard in hand, rattling off instructions.

“The table settings must be silver, not gold. And make sure the wine glasses are spotless—he deserves only the best.” Her voice drips with excitement.

You glance at the dining room, now transformed into a stage for the grand dinner. Crystal chandeliers gleam above the polished mahogany table, which is already set with fine china and embroidered napkins.

Everything is immaculate, screaming perfection—just like your brother.

Your father joins his wife, a rare smile softening his otherwise stern face “Finally, our son is coming back. Three years is far too long.” He places a hand on the woman's shoulder, his tone filled with pride “He’s the best of us.”

Your stomach twists. Their words sting in a way you don’t expect. It’s not that you hate Mike—not really. But the shadow he casts is suffocating, the impossibly high bar he sets that you’ll never reach.

The perfect son, the golden child who’s never made a misstep—or so everyone thinks.

Because you know better. You know the cracks hidden behind his flawless exterior. The things he’s done, the lines he’s crossed.

The way he’s used you to cover his tracks, forcing you to dirty your hands so his reputation could remain unscathed. The memory of his voice, cold and commanding, still echoes in your mind.

'You’ll do it, YN. You owe me.' And you always did because saying no was never an option.

Your parents know about his anger issues. They’ve seen his temper, the way his anger can spiral into violence.

They’ve heard the arguments, felt the weight of his wrath. But they ignore it, choosing instead to uphold the illusion of their perfect son.

You know they love you and love to spoil you, but you also know their disappointment runs deep.

To them, you’re the little child who always gets her way, who causes trouble without considering the consequences.

A loud clatter from the kitchen breaks her thoughts, and your mother whirls around.

“What was that? We can’t afford any mistakes!”

You watch your mother hurry away, and your heart sinks further. Mistakes.

That’s all you feel you are lately and a series of disappointments waiting to be uncovered. Your eyes drift to the grand staircase, and you imagine Mike descending it, his presence commanding the room, and your parents beaming with pride.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you from bad thoughts. It’s a text from Hongjoong, something sweet and simple about your project.

Joongie: We’re getting a 10, pretty.

Joongie: Promise!!

For a moment, you smile, but it quickly fades. Hongjoong is your escape, your distraction, but even he can’t erase the weight of your family’s expectations.

Sighing, you set the book down and lean back, closing your eyes. The house feels suffocating, filled with reminders of who you are supposed to be.

But this time, you won’t be caught off guard. If your brother’s return is inevitable, you’ll face him on your terms—even if it means confronting the secrets they both carry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The school backyard is too quiet to be the last class, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees as students chatter in the distance.

You and Hongjoong sit on a bench, the space between them comfortable but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

You swing your legs lazily, your eyes looking at the horizon. Your usually confident demeanor seems a little more distant today, like your mind is elsewhere.

Hongjoong notices it instantly, and though he’s not the type to pry, he can’t help but ask.

"Hey, what's going on? You seem… off today."

You glance over at him, lips curling into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s nothing. Just stuff with my family.”

He raises an eyebrow, sensing that it’s more than just ‘stuff.’ He leans a little closer, his voice softer now.

“Your brother, right?”

You freeze at the mention of him, gaze flickering to the side, as though trying to avoid the thought altogether. Your fingers fidget with the hem of your jacket, and you sigh deeply.

"Yeah, he’s coming back today." You try to mask the vulnerability in your tone, but Hongjoong catches it anyway "After three years, my parents are so excited. You should see the house, Joong... everything has to be perfect."

Hongjoong watches you carefully, his expression thoughtful. He remembers when your mother told you about Mike’s return.

You had been visibly upset, though you masked it quickly, eager to avoid the conversation. He knows that you have spent your whole life living in your brother’s shadow, constantly compared to his perfection.

"I get it," He says softly, his voice steady "You’ve always felt like he’s the ‘golden child,’ right? The one your parents adore."

Your lips tighten, but you don't argue, just nod, glancing at him with a half-smile.

"It’s exhausting. He’s everything they ever wanted in a son. Business master. Perfect grades. Perfect manners. Perfect everything." You pause, a bitter edge creeping into your voice "It doesn’t matter how many times I get a perfect score or do everything right. It’s never enough."

Hongjoong nods, his hand resting on the back of the bench, his gaze still on you. He knows you hide a lot behind that confident exterior, but the cracks are starting to show now, and it makes him feel both protective and… uncertain.

"It sounds like a lot to deal with. But your parents love you. They just have high expectations, don’t they?"

Your gaze flickers briefly to him, but you don't meet his eyes. You bite your lip, as if debating whether to continue.

"They do, but sometimes it feels like it’s not enough." You shrug, trying to brush it off, but the weight of the words lingers in the air between them "Anyway, enough about that."

You shift in your seat, a new thought clearly forming.

“Hongjoong,” You say, voice softer now, almost vulnerable "I know I’ve been, uh… caught up with my family stuff lately. But would you… would you ever invite me to your place one day? Just, you know, to get away from all of this?"

He blinks in surprise, but the warmth of your request is clear. It’s not about the drama or the pressures you face at home. It’s just you wanting a break, wanting something simple.

A break from being the ‘perfect’ daughter, the one always judged against the golden child.

"Of course, pretty." He replies without hesitation "Whenever you want. You can always come over."

You look at him, eyes softer now, a real smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Thanks, that means more than you know."

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of your words settling between you. Hongjoong’s heart races, unsure of what this means for their relationship but knowing one thing:

Being around you, seeing you like this—vulnerable, honest—it pulls him in deeper.

Finally, you break the silence again “Well, if I have to put up with my perfect brother for a while, at least I’ll have something to look forward to, right?”

He chuckles, the sound filling the quiet space between you “Exactly. And you know, I think the ‘perfect’ brother might need a little dose of reality. No one can be perfect all the time.”

You grin at that, your usual self-assuredness flickering back to life.

"Maybe.”

"Well, you’ve got me for anything. Always."

As you sit there, the rest of the world seems to fade away. Just for a moment, everything is okay.

And for now, that’s enough.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

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beabatiny

5 months ago

THIS IS SO GOOD! I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART! <3

Shadows Behind Shelves (PART 1)

SUMMARY | You, a literature professor turned governess, is settling into your role at the Jeong castle and developing feelings for both the lord, Yunho, and his cousin, Jongho. You soon learn that the castle is haunted by a spirit who desires to be resurrected and take over your body.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE | Smut, historical fantasy au, paranormal, dark academia, fluff, angst, drama

CONTENT/WARNINGS | mentions of death/curses/resurrection, a creepy ghost, fingering, clothes ripping, oral sex, unprotective sex (wrap it up!), lovemaking instead of fucking (more to come in part 2)

LENGTH | 15,012 words

TAGLIST | --

NETWORKS | @ksmutsociety @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Soooooooo… This is for @ksmutsociety network's The Velvet Vault event! I'm looking forward to reading all the participant's fics since we all worked so hard for this. It was nice to work with everyone and hype each other and exchange ideas. Love you folks!

Here's part 1 of this 2-part fic lol. It was getting too long (and the brain stopped braining at some point). I hope it's engaging enough that you return for part 2, which is in the works! And yes, more smut in part 2 (for Jongho and maybe a threesome LOL)

Thank you @cheolism for the beautiful banner, @hobeemin for the amazing moodboard (below) to keep my inspo in check and @lovetaroandtaemin for the beta-read as always! You guys are amazing folk!

Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚

“Well, I’m finally here,” you mutter as you look at the enormous castle that looms overhead.

You had been traveling to get here for some time and your body ached from the long journey. However, now that you were in the presence of the magnificent building, you felt like you couldn’t stop and rest just yet. You thought it was weird when a reclusive lord wrote to you, a professor at a prestigious university, and requested that you be his children’s governess. He must’ve thought you were qualified because you were a literature professor and had read a lot of books, which were important for teaching children. However, there were no references, and no one had heard of the family or this lord that was writing the letter. Yet, you decided to take the job for your own personal reasons.

You were leaving your life from the modern world and everything that was associated with it.

It wasn’t hard for you to leave everything behind. You didn’t have friends, and no one would come to look for you if you disappeared. When you were not teaching students, you spent your life in the company of books. They were the only thing that made you happy and the only things that had stayed constant throughout your life. That was the main reason you agreed to work for this strange lord, because you had heard that his castle was filled with the greatest works of literature.

As you approached the front doors, you noticed how the windows were dark, no light was coming through. Was everyone asleep? The castle seemed eerie in the night, and you had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. You tried to shake those feelings away, knowing that this was not the time to get spooked. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Upon arriving at the front door, you knocked and patiently awaited a response. Your heart raced, anticipation gnawing at you. After no one answered, you tried again, knocking louder this time. You wouldn’t have traveled this far without wanting an answer. On the verge of quitting and finding rest, the door, as if beckoning, slowly opened, urging you to enter. You paused, torn between entering and leaving, ultimately deciding that it was rude to depart without a word.

“Hello, is anyone home?” You shouted as you walked inside, hoping someone would answer.

No one came to greet you, but the sound of the wind echoed in the empty halls. There was no need to be scared. You were hardly scared of things that you didn’t understand, but this place had an air of mystery that made you uneasy. It felt like there was someone else in the house, watching your every move. The only lights came from the torches along the wall, but their light did little to ease the darkness.

“Lord Jeong, are you here?” You called out. You knew it was late, and he might be asleep, but you needed someone to answer you. “My name is Y/N. I am the new governess that you hired.”

Again, no one answered you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You had hoped that someone would’ve met you, but the lack of answers and the emptiness of the castle made you uneasy. You made your way down the hall to see if there was anyone awake. Maybe the servants were still awake, doing last-minute chores before going to bed. You hoped to find someone that could tell you where you could sleep.

You didn’t have a plan or anywhere else to go.

As you walked through the hallways, you noticed how the walls were lined with portraits. The people in the paintings all looked so beautiful, even if they were old and dust had covered their faces. However, it was odd that the portraits seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though the hallway was not very long. You thought about wiping the dust off to see the faces, but you decided not to since they were not yours.

Your eyes wandered down and saw the many artifacts that were also lined up on the walls. There were old swords, shields, and even some strange-looking guns. As a literature professor, you couldn’t help but be curious about what those weapons were used for. The stories of these things would make for interesting research.

You were so distracted by the many relics on the walls that you didn’t notice a figure moving swiftly towards you until it was too late. Something cold grabbed onto your arm and you turned to see a pale hand gripping you. You screamed and tried to break free, but the grip was so strong, it was almost as if it was draining the life from your body. You turned and saw the face of a beautiful man, who looked at you with wide eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here. The doors should’ve been locked,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He had a stern face, his sharp eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He wore a fancy suit and looked to be in his late twenties, but his age didn’t match his youthful features.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m the new governess, and the doors just opened by themselves!” You cried.

The man let go of you and you stepped back, trying to get away from him. You could tell that he was the master of the house, and you didn’t want to anger him. You were not the kind of person to yell at others, especially your employer, but his sudden appearance and tight grip were enough to make anyone lose their composure.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m Jeong Yunho, the lord of the castle,” he apologized, his face softening. He seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t speak often, and you found his voice comforting. “It is very late, and I was just startled. I didn’t expect anyone to come to the door at this hour. Please, forgive me for frightening you.”

“It’s fine. I am just a little shaken up,” you said, trying to calm down. You didn’t want to admit it, but his sudden appearance had frightened you. And that said a lot since you were scarcely afraid of anything.

“Come, let’s get you settled,” he gestured to follow him. “I will take you to your room.”

You followed him, still wondering what had just happened. The house was dark, no light was coming from the rooms. You wondered why the lord would keep the lights off at this hour. You also noticed how silent it was. There were no voices, no sounds at all. You didn’t think you had traveled far enough for this place to be abandoned, but it certainly felt that way.

Yunho stopped at a door and opened it. “This will be your room while you are here.”

The room was very elegant, decorated in various shades of blue. There was a large four-poster bed with a canopy, a dresser, a vanity, and a bookshelf. The shelves were full of books, just like the ones you had read. You were relieved to know that there would be something familiar for you to do.

“Please get some sleep,” Yunho nodded at you slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll tour the castle and introduce you to the staff and the children.”

“Thank you, Lord Jeong. Goodnight,” you curtsied and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

You were exhausted, so you quickly took off your shoes and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft and smelled nice, like fresh laundry. It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep. As you lay there, you thought about the castle, the servants, and the children. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of whispering, as if the voices were coming from the walls themselves.

The next morning, you woke up early, eager to start the day. The first thing you did was get dressed and head downstairs to the dining hall. When you arrived, the servants were already bustling around, preparing the table and setting out the food. They were all wearing the same outfit: black uniforms with white aprons, their hair neatly combed back.

The table was set, and you sat down, waiting for the rest of the household to arrive. Soon, you were joined by Yunho, who greeted you politely. The man was dressed in a black suit, and his hair was perfectly styled. He looked so regal, but his face was emotionless, his mouth pulled into a straight line. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than he was.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was deep and commanding, but there was no hint of malice in it.

“Good morning, Lord Jeong. I’m well,” you answered. “Is the rest of the household going to join us?”

“They are busy with their own duties,” Yunho responded. “We will tour the castle later today, but I would like to discuss the duties you will have while you are here. First, your primary task will be the education and care of the children. They have not had a governess for a few months and they are at the age where they should learn and be educated.”

“Of course. As a professor of the literary arts, I will make sure to teach them everything they need to know,” you responded. You were excited to have a chance to teach someone, especially young minds. “Will I also be in charge of their daily routines?”

“Yes, their daily routine and their discipline as well,” he continued. “You will have your own schedule and free time, so do not feel as if you are confined to this castle. You are welcome to go out and explore the town or the grounds. There are plenty of beautiful places for you to see. In the meantime, the staff will continue their duties and will help you with anything you need. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I will, thank you, Lord Jeong,” you said, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice.

“Just call me Yunho,” he said, his face softening a bit.

“Yunho,” you said, testing his name out. You liked the way it sounded.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin the tour,” he stood up and led you out of the dining room.

As the two of you walked through the halls, Yunho pointed out different rooms, explaining what they were used for. You saw a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlor, and even a billiard room. There were other rooms as well, but you couldn’t remember what they were. You tried to listen carefully to everything that Yunho was telling you, but your mind was elsewhere. The castle was so grand, and the interior was so intricate.

You had never seen anything like it.

You were shown the ballroom, a music room, and even an observatory. Everything was so grand and it all overwhelmed you. Yunho told you more about his family and the history of the castle.

You learned that the castle had been built a hundred years ago, when Yunho’s ancestors had moved to this land. The estate had been passed down through generations and was the source of pride for the Jeongs. However, the family had lost many members, and the last one was Yunho’s late wife.

“And this is the grand library,” Yunho said, standing in front of the double doors. The doors were massive, carved with intricate designs. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them.

“I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” you said, stepping forward and grabbing the handle.

“No!” Yunho yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from the door. “No one is allowed in the grand library.”

“Why not?” You asked, confused. You were curious about the books and wanted to explore the grand library.

“Those books are too dangerous. They are filled with stories and tales that could corrupt the mind and the soul,” Yunho replied, his tone serious. “They are the reason my late wife is dead.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could books be dangerous? You knew there were some books that could be scary, but those were fiction. These were books, not demons or monsters. You didn’t understand why they were kept locked away.

“Please, Miss Y/N. Don’t ask me to open the doors. I’ve lost too much already,” Yunho begged. His eyes were pleading with you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were a scholar of literature, and the idea of being banned from reading books was painful. It was in your nature to be curious, and you wanted to find out why the library was locked. But you didn’t want to upset Yunho or lose the job that you haven’t even started yet.

“There is a smaller library for you to use with the children,” Yunho assured you. “You can read anything in there. Just please, don’t ask me to open these doors again.”

You nodded your head in understanding, and Yunho seemed to relax. You wished you could’ve said something, but it was pointless to argue with him. The mystery of the grand library would remain unknown to you. Still, your mind raced with curiosity. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to see the forbidden books. Perhaps it was because you were a scholar, but you needed to understand. You needed to learn the truth, no matter what the cost.

“Thank you, Yunho. I will keep your advice in mind,” you replied. Your heart raced with thoughts about the library and the possibility of learning the secrets that were hidden behind those doors. As long as you were here, there would be no escaping the desire to learn more. You knew that would get you into trouble someday. That was just a part of who you were.

After finishing the tour, Yunho led you to the children who were outside in the courtyard playing. As you neared the children, you noticed a man in casual clothes who appeared to be a groundskeeper or something of the sort. You noted his appearance, thinking he looked handsome. As you and Yunho entered the courtyard, the children came running to greet him, calling out ‘Daddy!’. Despite his age, Yunho lifted all three children as they tried to hug him and spin them around in his arms. His gaze softened as he embraced each child. His stern demeanor was nowhere to be seen.

When he put them down, Yunho introduced you as the new governess. The children hid behind their father, whispering to him about how pretty you were. You giggled slightly, finding their reaction endearing, and it made you less nervous about taking the job. Yunho chastised the children, and they soon came out of their hiding, shyly offering you their introductions. Yunho introduced you first to his son, Yujin, who had turned five, then to his daughters, four-year-old Suyeon and three-year-old Sujin. You kneeled and greeted them politely. The children immediately attached themselves to you, clutching to you and introducing themselves. While this wasn’t a simple task for you as someone new, you could feel their excitement as they began to speak to you about their interests and their favorite toys.

Yunho sent them off to play once more after confirming when their lessons would start the following morning. The man you assumed to be a groundskeeper watched the interaction between you, the kids, and Yunho. As the children ran off and resumed their playing, the young man stepped forward, offering you a friendly smile. You watched curiously, noticing his youthful appearance. He couldn’t have been that much older than yourself.

“Welcome, miss,” he said. “I’m Choi Jongho, the lord’s cousin and the groundskeeper here. Though I help out with other matters within the castle as well.”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” you smiled, extending a hand out which the young man took firmly, shaking it. You couldn’t imagine that a man of his age could maintain a property as extensive as the Jeong castle. “I hope we will get to spend some time together since I’m the new governess for the Jeong children. Are you their only groundskeeper?”

Jongho released your hand with a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s not a simple job, but someone has to take care of things here, am I right? Besides, the estate means everything to Mr. Jeong, and I care deeply about it as well. He trusts me fully, and that’s a blessing.”

The young man’s tone was genuine and laced with kindness. Jongho carried himself with an ease that reassured you as well. Something about the young man felt safe.

“He’s very nice and has already been treating me quite well,” you mentioned as Yunho joined you two, the children having returned to their previous activities, oblivious to the world around them.

“The staff here all admire and respect Lord Yunho, as he deserves,” Jongho said. “The children are fortunate to have a father so dedicated to them.”

You glanced at the lord who held a similar expression to Jongho, the two staring back at the children, no doubt sharing the same thoughts. You would be lying if you didn’t admit the warmth spreading in your chest from the image. Yunho was gentle with the children, and it made you feel good about taking the job despite the secrets locked within the castle. You still didn’t quite understand what the books could contain, but chose to ignore the curiosity for the time being. Yunho already trusted you enough to open up, revealing some of his past, even if it did spark more questions than answers.

The three of you remained in the courtyard watching the children until they came running toward you again, nearly jumping into their father’s arms. Yunho spun them in circles before lifting Sujin and carrying her back towards the house.

“I better start getting Sujin cleaned for her supper,” he said to the remaining party. “Come on, children.”

Sujin was quick to wiggle in her father’s grasp, as she clearly wanted to walk. “Papa! Down!” she giggled as Yunho lowered her and followed her and the children back inside the castle.

Jongho and you watched as the Jeongs walked off, chuckling slightly in the wake of the energetic kids and Yunho. When Yunho’s silhouette had disappeared, you looked back at Jongho with a bright smile on your face, admiring how the sun hit his skin to accentuate his handsome features. The young man was incredibly attractive, and you hoped you’d get to spend more time with him while working at the castle.

“Well then,” Jongho rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted his stance, “I will go back to tending the grounds. If you need me for anything, you just have to ask. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/N. I really hope we get to spend some time together in the future. Take care of yourself.”

Before you had the chance to respond, Jongho placed his hat on his head and promptly headed for the gardens. There was a skip in his steps, something you couldn’t help but notice as you watched him make his way through the expansive yard. For a man that was around your age and appearance, you expected him to be a little less excited about his chores and duties, especially given the size and maintenance requirements. You almost expected him to have complained a little about being a servant, but he didn’t appear to have any issue with it. This intrigued you even more, giving you reason to pay him more attention in the coming days.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, the maids began setting tables for dinner. With Yunho preoccupied with the children and Jongho busy elsewhere, you decided to explore the grounds for some fresh air. The castle grounds were spacious, and it was important to take some time to explore the vast space. Besides, if you were going to be staying at the castle for some time, it was good to familiarize yourself with everything. You didn’t want to get lost in the castle, since you would no doubt become easily disoriented among the winding halls. The grounds also would be the best place to familiarize yourself. You should have started earlier since now the sun was fading and darkness was settling into place. You hoped to be back within an hour as dinnertime was approaching fast.

Despite the castle being eerily ominous and quite frightening when you saw it last night, it looked gorgeous bathed in sunlight during the day. You couldn’t resist letting your imagination roam about as you strolled around the premises. You imagined a heroine escaping through the open space while wearing a beautiful silk dress. You envisioned her making her way across a stone pathway and into an emerald garden filled with vivid plants and flowers. This reminded you that the castle did seem out of place for being located in a dense forest in the mountains, isolated by many miles. It was fascinating and beautiful in the daytime. Now that the sun had fallen below the horizon, and you couldn’t enjoy the sights, it gave the castle a darker feeling.

On your explorations around the castle, you heard noises that sounded like muffled conversations. However, when you’d check, nothing and nobody would be there. Peeking in the windows and circling around the grounds, you heard these strange noises coming from the castle itself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to explore on your own.

You made your way towards one bench on the property to catch your breath. You were starting to wonder whether the noises you had heard before were perhaps nothing more than simple tricks of the mind or maybe a nearby village. You sat back on the wooden bench with a heavy sigh escaping your chest.

The sounds coming from the castle continued to grow louder. Soon, there would be nothing but utter silence surrounding it again. You thought about making your way back towards the entrance. Yet the mystery of the unknown voices calling out to you kept drawing you back in. You wanted to discover the truth about them. Was there someone or something lingering behind these walls? Was it just an old building creating these peculiar noises? Or had the wind simply picked up slightly to produce such abnormal vibrations? There was no way of telling what had been causing it and you were beginning to wish you hadn’t even considered searching. The only thing left was for you to leave without learning a thing and return safely inside the castle to enjoy the warm fires of the dining area. You stood up but were startled by the sight of a figure that appeared next to the gates and your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Ah!” you gasped in surprise, quickly jumping backwards to avoid falling to the ground.

You blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness from your eyes. Surely, there couldn’t be any person standing there, right? You looked over at the gates again, but there was no one there. You scanned the area for any movement or sign of a living being but could see nothing besides the trees, rocks, and bushes.

This was starting to freak you out. Sure, you knew that this was a possibility when you took the job, but you didn’t think that anything scary could’ve actually occurred at this location. And why were you getting such a creepy vibe from this part of the castle’s property? Something just seemed different about it somehow.

With a firm shake of your head, you straightened your posture and cleared your mind before heading back inside the castle to take your seat for supper. If you were to do any more exploring, it would be done on the next day with a proper guide. Perhaps asking Jongho to tour the entire grounds would not be a bad idea, since he would undoubtedly be more familiar with the details and stories surrounding the castle. For now, you’d eat dinner, bathe yourself and retire to sleep. This was already enough of a scary encounter, but you wouldn’t let it keep you awake at night, especially on the first evening you arrived.

It had been a few weeks since you’ve become a governess for the children. The kids woke you up in a cheerful mood and eager for lessons. You found yourself sitting in the garden again as you read stories with the kids and watched their natural curiosity shining brightly. Yujin and Suyeon seemed excited but also overwhelmed by the amount of information in the books. For now, you preferred keeping the story to short tales, careful to stick to the knowledge level and time frame necessary to keep them interested. There’d be time later to teach them more complex ideas.

It felt good teaching the children and guiding them. They were quick learners and always happy. The weather was perfect and sunny. The roses and the wildflowers that lined the path leading towards the garden swayed softly in the gentle wind. The smell of nature surrounded you as it filled the air with its sweet fragrance. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the trees above the children. All three of them had their gazes pointed towards the book as if they were focused intensely. After you finished the first reading, the three began discussing amongst themselves about what story they would ask for next. You sat quietly with a grin stretched across your lips.

What adorable little devils.

Their enthusiasm inspired you further to be the best teacher you possibly could, determined to always bring out their best traits and encourage their development. Every bit of work counted towards reaching that goal. Once the day’s lesson ended, they skipped back inside the castle and up towards their rooms. You turned around in the direction from which the footsteps had come and watched Yunho’s face as he walked closer towards you; the sun glistening off the gold buttons and linings in his attire. His eyes focused solely upon you.

“How was today’s class?” The question slipped from his lips smoothly.

“Perfect,” you responded. “These kids are so brilliant. I can tell their excitement was genuine.”

“Is that so?” Yunho asked. “Do you enjoy teaching them?”

You nodded quickly. “I definitely do. It’s definitely different teaching children compared to adult students, but I enjoy both. It’s refreshing. When my lessons finish, I look forward to their little questions. It makes the entire process worth it.”

Yunho hummed his response as the sound echoed around the two of you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you and you noticed the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. A faint blush formed on his cheeks and you blushed at the realization that he was staring back at you, holding your gaze.

“Would you like to join me in my study?” Yunho asked. “Since we are both professors, you in literature and I in art, perhaps I might entertain you with tales of art and literature from times long forgotten and stories you have yet to hear.”

A tingle ran down your spine from the seductive tone in which he spoke. Never had you heard Yunho sound like this before, but it seemed as if he was offering an invitation you could not refuse. Not that you would have declined it, either. With an eager nod, you rose and allowed yourself to be escorted towards his study.

As you followed him into the massive room and the double-door was shut behind you, Yunho lit the fireplace, which immediately filled the space with heat. The flame reflected off his glasses, his eyes twinkling in the light. When your attention shifted to the room’s furnishings, you found yourself gazing at the stunning fireplace and intricate gold filigree work. It was breathtaking. You turned back toward him, wanting to ask him about its design and purpose in his home.

His fingers danced gracefully across the leather-bound book that he had retrieved and placed before him on a polished oak table, running the tips of them over the smooth texture. It must have been quite old. Probably there’d be hundreds of pieces of knowledge written inside of that volume which could answer questions, solve problems or even make predictions.

“This book has been handed down through generations in the Jeong line and is very precious. Many members of the Jeongs have read it and learned its contents, adding to its importance.” With a satisfied smile, he slowly lifted his gaze back up towards you, speaking. “Would you like to read some?”

“I would love to,” you whispered breathlessly, barely containing yourself.

Yunho laughed deeply at how eager you sounded. He slid the book towards you and watched as you held onto the book with the care that only a well-loved treasure receives. “Well then, Miss Y/N, I would like to share its contents with you. It’s important to understand its origins and meanings in order to fully appreciate it.”

You examined the worn pages, observing the parchment-colored paper. It was bound with thin leather strips on both sides, revealing intricate designs etched into each page and carefully outlined. This wasn’t just an ordinary journal. It was a journal passed down by the Jeongs from generation to generation and filled with their histories and traditions.

You flipped through the pages carefully, noticing that every single piece contained drawings or diagrams with accompanying text describing their purpose. The picture of a traveler leaving his hometown followed a section entitled ‘Journey’. He stopped in front of an enormous mountain and stared straight ahead into nothingness, while standing still for the longest time. Finally, after a momentary pause, he moved forward and disappeared over the horizon. Under the picture, two simple lines had been inscribed: ‘To journey is to live’.

Then the traveler appeared again on another page; this time he appeared to be riding on the back of a horse. The caption read: ‘Traveling is to expand your horizons’ and under it there were more words in small font size: ‘He who sees the world differently is no stranger, but a friend.’ You chuckled slightly, finding a kindred spirit with those lines written in cursive. It reminded you of your own experiences in college and the fact that everyone saw the world through a different lens.

“What do you think?” Yunho leaned forward a bit and smiled at you with interest, curiosity and an open heart.

“I love it,” you confessed earnestly. Your gaze lowered back towards the open book and its contents while you gently stroked its edges with one hand. “Thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure.”

As soon as you said those words, Yunho laughed again in a sweet tone that warmed your soul and brought a smile to your lips.

“Perhaps you’ll join me again sometime,” his invitation rang clearly in the air as he motioned towards a stack of papers to his left. You couldn’t deny that the prospect made you feel quite excited, and you enthusiastically agreed. You needed no more encouragement, eagerly scanning the book once more before placing it gently upon his table.

“Yunho... are there any more journals you could let me read through?” you questioned carefully as his body relaxed against the leather seat, stretching out and closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“Possibly,” Yunho replied.

“Please? I promise I won’t go too far into your family secrets,” you joked lightly, causing him to grin widely while shaking his head in amusement.

“We all have our own histories and secrets. Though, you may be free to go through all journals that I possess if it will please you,” he teased playfully as his brown eyes glittered. The smile adorning his handsome face showed affection and perhaps even a hint of a hope that maybe one day you’d want to learn about all of his own hidden desires and passions. But for now, you contented yourself with merely exploring the knowledge held within these priceless volumes.

Before you realized it, an hour had flown by. The sounds outside grew quieter as dusk fell, yet neither you nor Yunho dared to stir. Both lost in thoughts about the history of the Jeongs and their stories, it took you by surprise when the door swung wide open, revealing Jongho in a state of clear discomfort. The corners of his usually bright eyes crinkled up nervously, but, he managed to speak without faltering.

“I... I need to talk to the Lord for a moment,” his voice was hoarse and his speech slower than usual. You could almost feel his anxiety and worry radiating through the room.

“I understand,” you politely excused yourself while leaving the book where it laid before standing up to exit his office. “Thank you again, Yunho. For showing me some of the journals.”

“Certainly,” Yunho replied. He appeared relieved, seemingly happy about being able to assist you. “I hope it will provide enjoyment during the upcoming days.”

With one last appreciative glance, you exited and closed the door.

“You showed her the journals?” Jongho asked once he was certain that you’d be out of earshot, staring at his boss intently. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yunho, are you sure-“

“I couldn’t help it,” Yunho muttered. His face darkened briefly, a hint of sadness slipping through the cracks of his typically cheery mask. “I had to. She looks too much like...”

His statement trailed off abruptly, but the implication was crystal clear to everyone within hearing distance. They knew what had been running through his mind. The young woman resembled so much of his dead lover. She was a spitting image, reminding him of those few precious days in which he was young and naïve, inexperienced in life and its cruelty, and thought love could overcome anything.

“I’m surprised that Miss Y/N looks like her,” Jongho whispered softly. “How is it possible?”

“I’m sure that her soul is back now to stay,” Yunho breathed deeply and stared straight ahead, his hands fidgeting. “No longer would we have to hear her restless soul wander and whisper among us, crying out our names.”

“You can’t possibly think of bringing her back. It’s too dangerous, not to mention it will be her end,” Jongho argued. “What if things go wrong and she never becomes alive? Are you going to sit idly by and wait forever? For something that could take place never? And if the spell is successful, do you expect Miss Y/N to walk alongside you without questions? You’re thinking of trading another soul to bring back your wife. Would she not end up suffering the same fate, if not worse?”

Yunho looked up at Jongho coldly. “Do you not understand how much it means to me to have her alive again? Even if only for a short period. She deserved it. We could have been so happy if not for everything else.”

“So you’re willing to hurt someone else in exchange for the woman you loved, hoping that maybe things will go back to the way things used to be,” Jongho continued his plea, “the late lady is gone. Miss Y/N deserves the opportunity of a complete life, free of any attachments from the past and all the horrible memories attached to them. You can’t expect to use those forbidden books to bring her back to life.”

“I cannot continue on without her,” Yunho hissed. His brows knit together furiously as he fought against the rising anger within him. “Our children need their mother, my family and our legacy needs their daughter-in-law, and most importantly, I need my true love to return to me.”

“Think for a second, Yunho. Do you seriously believe the spirits of your children’s mother would be okay with sacrificing an innocent person to resurrect their dead mother?”

“You know what her ghost wants, Jongho,” Yunho groaned, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.

“Miss Y/N isn’t Lady Ara,” Jongho reminded him. “Lady Ara and Miss Y/N have completely different backgrounds, interests and personalities. Even if they share physical appearances, that is all.”

“I am aware. Believe me,” Yunho looked away with frustration evident in his voice. “I know that my wife is gone and that Miss Y/N is alive and well...”

“Yunho, why don’t you just fall for Miss Y/N instead and start over instead of hurting an innocent and beautiful person? Lady Ara’s soul may be gone, but that does not mean that you cannot find happiness without her again,” Jongho added quietly. “The children seem to love her, the staff love her. And I─”

He trailed off and shook his head slowly. Silence stretched between them as they considered everything before them.

“Yunho,” Jongho muttered eventually. “Think this through again before making any decisions. Even the dead are allowed a proper resting place. Is resurrecting their late mother really the best thing to do, especially if they cannot see or feel their mother, anyway? At least Miss Y/N is a breathing person that’s right in front of you.”

“I-I know,” Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts. A part of him already believed Jongho’s words. A bigger part, however, wanted his wife and only his wife. He could still vividly imagine his late wife’s soft smile and laughter, her warmth against his chest and kisses that reminded him of sunrises. Nothing compared to the love and affection she showed him and their little family. Everything in him ached with longing for her touch, her kiss, and her embrace again. If his spells worked successfully, she’d come back to him whole again and to spend the remaining years of his life together with him in bliss.

Yet another quiet voice in his head warned him against those foolish notions and dreams. How could it possibly be wrong when a pure soul was sacrificed to bring back the woman that was the cause for his and his children’s sorrows? Then again, was he truly sure he would gain exactly the results he desired and hoped for? Was bringing his dead wife back really the answer? Could it really fix their broken household? Or would he be nothing but a monster, bringing pain to others again?

“Does her ghost still haunt you?” Jongho probed as his friend remained deep in thought, hands interlocked before him.

“Yes, of course. All day long, I hear her pleas and whimpers,” the expression on Yunho’s face fell entirely at Jongho’s response. He sounded terribly drained. “Even after these three years? I’m glad that the staff can’t see her but the children... I’m sure they’re so scared.”

“Oh, she won’t go after the children, would she?” Jongho questioned worriedly. “Surely not.”

“Yes. You know, the only way that we can appease her and put her soul to rest,” Yunho mumbled. His eyes filled with regret as he sighed. “She... She won’t leave us alone unless we get her back.”

“Give yourself more time and think about things properly again. If nothing works, then so be it. If anything, let Lady Ara’s soul have peace and find its way towards eternal rest,” Jongho reminded him as kindly as he could. “I’ll look through the forbidden books again and write up a report for you.”

Yunho blinked at him blankly for a second. Slowly, understanding began dawning on him. Perhaps he really was overreacting slightly. Maybe his desire had caused him to temporarily lose his sanity. The idea of having her back, the ideal outcome for him, overwhelmed his entire being. Perhaps Jongho’s suggestion would lead him in the right direction. He needed to make a decision soon. For his own sake and his family’s sake.

“Okay,” he finally managed to say. “Okay.”

Jongho gave him another quick glance, almost hesitant before eventually saying his farewell. He wanted to lighten up the mood again, at the same time aware that it was pointless and the lord would most likely shut himself off until tomorrow morning. If there’s anything, he would help. Until then, he’d give the man some space.

As the heavy wooden door swung shut, Yunho slouched into the chair. A loud sigh escaped him. His mind still raced about a way of resurrecting her but also contemplated on the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jongho might have had a point. A faint glimmer of hope sparked within him. Maybe the feelings weren’t totally gone or completely destroyed after all.

He could start over. The opportunity of getting to know and falling for Miss Y/N did cross his mind more than once and her kind and soft personality was a contrast to that of Ara, though he couldn’t deny the way she could brighten the children’s days, as well as the staff’s and even his in such a short time was already refreshing. A bitter chuckle sounded, immediately drowned by the crackling sounds of the dying fire in front of him.

Jongho sighed, unable to hide his concerns. Not wanting the staff to sense something was off, he put on a straight face, ready to head out on another duty. Before leaving, he made sure to leave a small vase of fresh white roses, picked from his own garden and lovingly trimmed in an attempt to brighten Yunho’s room.

Only Jongho had seen through the dark magic he’s dabbled and accidentally cursed himself with, much to their horror, because the once sweet and optimistic lord, blinded by his obsession and desperate feelings towards his deceased wife had used forbidden knowledge no human should dare meddle in, only for it to bring tragedy and heartache upon himself. Yunho never expected the resurrection spell he chanted with so much optimism would end up turning the mansion upside down, that all of them, especially him, would end up experiencing agony so great and unending, until all that remained were only broken memories of his late wife.

The household went into mourning for many months after the spell. Everyone who met Yunho’s former wife adored her, and it had been so difficult seeing Yunho and his children suffer alone with her death. The staff tried to console them and reassure them that even the deepest wounds heal, but the way he fell into darkness left everyone speechless, even Jongho.

The previous three tutors resigned or retired prematurely because of stress and other concerns. None of them could ever reach out to their children enough to make a connection, and even when they did, they still had not figured out the dynamics well enough to work effectively with them. But ever since Miss Y/N had become the new governess of his beloved cousin’s children, his hope in them blossomed, watching their eyes slowly grow brighter with happiness and affection as the days went by.

To Jongho, Miss Y/N felt right for the job, from her enthusiasm when interacting with the young heirs of the Jeong family, to her eagerness to learn about everything regarding the Castle and surrounding area, especially the histories surrounding its location. He watched from the corners of the grounds and various windows to check up on the new governess during her daily routines, the way she seemed to enjoy teaching the children every bit of her knowledge while still allowing time to allow their innocence to flourish and their free spirits to grow and develop, how Miss Y/N willingly included them into discussions or other activities even if it seemed uninteresting to them, yet never forced the kids to do things they didn’t like, always encouraging. He cherished every smile on her sweet and gentle face.

Someday... perhaps... Jongho’s eyes lowered. Deep in his chest, something had changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was. Did his heart start beating differently? Did his breathing become shallower? Jongho shook his head, shaking the strange feelings away, even as the sense that something had already shifted, and would shift more. He pushed back his self-doubt and closed his eyes. There was no way that he could harbor feelings like these when his station would never allow him to have someone. Especially a woman of her standing.

Jongho brought a hand to his face, running it over his tired features.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. He thought his life was perfectly normal and steady. Until recently, there wasn’t anyone who seemed to capture his attention. He felt conflicted, but resolved that the feelings would surely vanish if he didn’t let himself think about them.

Jongho huffed and shook the feelings away. He knew there was no hope whatsoever, especially not at the moment when the lord’s future and reputation is in danger, where all hopes for him to recover are placed on the very governess he’s admired ever since she first arrived here, because she reminded him of the missing piece of Yunho’s broken puzzle: his dead wife.

“Dear god,” Jongho massaged his temples slowly with a deep sigh, unable to shake the image of her smile from his mind. He wondered whether he’d ever stop thinking about her. It’s not even been a week, and she’s already crept up inside his head. The possibilities worried him and sent shivers through his entire body. Why do these feelings exist inside him? Where did they come from and why now of all times when he has to put his life on the line for his boss?

A thousand and one worries ran rampant within him, but nothing prepared him for the day that she suddenly became the focus of his life. Was it because she had turned everything in their lives into something entirely new? She brought light and warmth everywhere she went. She gave new meaning and purpose to his dull existence. He wanted to protect her. Jongho clutched his fists tight at the thought of anyone or anything putting her in harm’s way or seeing her cry. How did this happen? Why couldn’t he control what’s going on inside his head or heart? All of his training, all of his efforts to be rational, completely overthrown by Miss Y/N.

For the longest time, Jongho stared ahead into the darkness. In his heart, a seed had been planted, waiting for its chance to burst open. A dream, a possibility for something bigger than the two of them. What if... What if she felt the same?

He wanted her. That much he was certain of, and although he had never thought it possible that his life would turn into what it’s turned into, it did. No doubt. But the biggest issue with everything: what does Miss Y/N want? Would she like a future by his side? A life with a mere servant, when she could easily marry into the aristocracy instead and obtain riches?

Jongho paused and slumped deeper into the pillows. None of these were questions he had an answer for, nor could he form any sort of speculation for at least in the foreseeable future, unless she showed him something else. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that, for as long as it takes, for as long as the chances of her loving him remained uncertain, Jongho would hold on and treasure every smile, every laugh and every giggle that makes him wish to have his own smiles and laughs with her.

And for the first time in a while, he realized what had brought such joy into his previously monotonous life and now, what he will never, ever, give up no matter what.

Even if it meant going against Yunho.

“Miss Y/N!” a sweet, cheery voice chimed happily as you settled into a chair.

The children had become comfortable enough to act so comfortably in your presence, not hesitating to pull themselves up by you for their morning meal. Every time you saw them in their cute outfits, smiles bright and glowing, and chatting happily away, a warm sense of fulfillment spread through your entire body. What were the odds that a few weeks ago you would have thought nothing like this would be possible, and yet, everything in front of you showed otherwise?

“What are we learning today, Miss Y/N?” Yujin asked, mouth half-full with some cut up pieces of apples.

“Slowly, dears,” you instructed patiently, gently tapping a napkin to his lip. “We are learning more about literature and art appreciation.”

“Is it the boring kind like those dumb books in Daddy’s study?” Suyeon wrinkled her nose distastefully.

You giggled as a certain fondness washed over you. The precious little girl’s blunt opinions and personality never failed to amuse and delight you. Even if they might not like a particular activity, both she and Yujin would sit dutifully next to you and pay attention.

“These are different kinds of books, I promise,” you winked, earning delighted gasps from the two children.

Sujin, being only three, clapped along with the excitement, watching her older siblings. Despite her babbling, there were some basic words of gratitude and greeting she recognized and had begun uttering for each member of the staff, which warmed everyone’s hearts. As you taught the two older children, Sujin would happily be in your lap or clinging to your skirt. She definitely liked following and was quieter, preferring to listen to you speak more than try to recite herself.

“Alright. Let’s go,” you picked Sujin up.

With the children in tow, you entered the room, where several books lined the shelves neatly in organized rows. The previous tutors were highly experienced individuals; well read, knowledgeable and proper. Although Yunho gave his children the luxury of many learning opportunities and experiences, there was something to be desired in that they would not relate well to the children’s age. Children’s education needed to be adjusted according to their growth, development, interests and abilities in order for them to retain their lessons and information better.

Although you taught adults during your time as a professor in a college, being able to teach little children was an entirely new world of its own. But seeing their adorable little faces lighting up with their eyes gleaming whenever you started telling them a story, seeing Sujin clapping her chubby hands or watching them lean forward as they listened intently, hearing them ask questions, and interacting with them. Everything about their childhood was a rare treat. You could tell the children enjoyed themselves tremendously. Their innocent smiles and their wide, sparkling gazes filled with curiosity and wonder were more than enough payment to last a lifetime.

“So,” you began, getting up from the table to approach the wooden cabinet against the wall. As usual, you scanned over its contents briefly, deciding on what to pull out, before turning your focus back to the children, who patiently waited. “I know Suyeon doesn’t like the books in their father’s study, but perhaps she may prefer some paintings.”

“Like pretty ladies sitting on swings or walking near water fountains?” Yujin asked. His sweet question made you chuckle as his interest was also shown.

“There are also plenty of pictures like that too, although most of them will probably show landscapes,” you mused, bringing up a large, bound folio. “How about we try this one together?”

Your suggestion was met with their excited agreement. Once the book was laid flat on the wooden tabletop, you flipped past the first few pages. You didn’t have to say much about the cover or title, as it didn’t take long for the kids to recognize what the subjects of these works were. Suyeon stared curiously, barely able to read the words scrolled upon its cover.

“Are you ready to learn more about the artists behind some of these lovely images?” Your question resulted in an enthusiastic cheer.

While the kids sat with their legs dangling as they carefully examined the pictures before them, you opened another folder containing a brief passage of information that served as an introductory background on the person who painted each work. It would have taken many times the amount of energy to fully explain or discuss each painting itself, much less explain the various aspects of brush strokes, textures, color schemes and so on. Instead, a simplified overview of each artist’s lives would have to be enough until the children can sit and learn without feeling bored.

“What are we learning today?” Yunho asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft grin as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Art. Artists,” Suyeon waved her hands around excitedly. “It’s so cool, daddy!”

“Daddy. Look!” Yujin held up an oil pastel drawing with two rabbits. The sight of him pointing proudly to his art and holding it out made you crack a fond smile.

“I figured today we delve into the arts since you’re an art professor yourself, my lord,” you remarked gently, watching the kids jump about and start on their respective drawings, though Sujin needed more of your assistance. “We could branch out into more literary sections starting later, and of course, I’ll include plenty of reading time.”

“What great ideas. I think the children love it,” he offered up a quiet hum.

“They do have talent,” you added happily. The young master and lady were exceptional at drawing and painting, though not without their moments of struggle in between, to be expected from children of their ages.

“Now, now, my young lord and ladies,” you said calmly, stepping over with the stack of paper and paints, “we don’t want to paint our beautiful clothes, do we?”

Picking up Sujin, her chubby hands filled with green and orange smudges, you rubbed them lightly over a tissue before depositing her on your hip, making the younger Jeong squeal with delight, smacking her tiny palms against your cheek and staining it. Laughing at her behavior, you handed her to the nanny as she came to pick her up. Yujin and Suyeon joined them for a moment.

“Please make sure the children get cleaned up and dressed as well, Miss Kim,” Yunho told the nanny as you organized the scattered materials into their neat piles. The children were adamant at spending every spare second with you and constantly begging you to stay a little longer, regardless of the fact that it was nap time and you needed a break too. “Miss Y/N must also rest.”

You thanked the nanny quietly and bade farewell to the kids with the promise that you will continue your studies together with them after naptime. Just as you were about to head upstairs for a quick catnap, Yunho gently took hold of your shoulder, making you glance at him in surprise.

“You have paint on your face,” he murmured, pulling a clean, soft handkerchief out of his pocket. Before you could respond, the cloth ran softly over the corners of your lips and across one side of your cheek. Your entire face tingled and burned. A sudden warmth enveloped your entire body despite how soft the delicate cloth felt against your skin.

His gaze and expression were softer than usual. Kind eyes that radiated heat, along with an enigmatic smile you couldn’t decipher. Unconsciously, your teeth dug into the inside of your lip and an inaudible sigh slipped through your parted lips. Yunho stopped a moment and surveyed you closely, still smiling with that indescribable grin as his gaze dipped lower briefly.

“Do not think too much,” he added with a low chuckle. You became uncomfortably aware of his fingers gliding smoothly across your skin as he wiped off the extra paint left behind by the children’s sticky fingers, then you watched him refold the handkerchief neatly before stuffing it into his pocket.

It took you another moment to remember to breathe. His proximity still affected you greatly. Thankfully, he stepped back and headed away, leaving you alone to deal with the growing feeling in your heart and mind. How is it even possible, you wondered as your gaze remained fixated upon the dark head of hair until the figure disappeared down the hallway and turned to the corner, when his mere smile and touches were enough to make you lose composure and act shy in front of him? And the thoughts of him touching you, looking at you, thinking about you...just you, in the privacy of his chambers.

You buried your hot face in your hands.

Being around the man, his charming aura and enigmatic smiles, made you question and yearn for the chance to be held in his arms and in his affections. You sighed deeply, knowing fully well that, although nothing could ever happen, at least the feelings could only fizzle out with time. Surely, this entire episode will pass soon and everything can return to normal again.

To distract yourself, you decided to get some hot tea and snacks from the kitchen. You found Jongho in the kitchens already, nibbling a snack of his own. When he noticed you, he shifted so his seat would give you enough space to sit and dine on the delicious and soothing sweets.

“What kinds of books do you usually read, Miss Y/N?” Jongho suddenly asked, catching you completely off-guard.

“Oh, me?” you hesitated a little, lowering the cup to the table with a quiet, timid chuckle.

“Yes. I was curious and wanted to see whether your likes and preferences are similar.” he gave a hopeful, toothy grin. “Are there any other books or topics you are interested in?”

“Of course. I absolutely love history, literature and language, and art, of course,” you explained, ignoring the thudding of your racing heart, cheeks growing pinker. “Oh, and cooking, sewing, gardening and painting, too. Anything that will allow me to unwind after work, really.”

“What about romance?” Jongho continued, making you grow hot.

“R-romance?” Your brows furrowed, nearly choking on the dessert.

“It’s one of the most popular genres in our town’s library,” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “But you seem to like reading history.”

Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Well, I enjoy all forms of literature. So, there’s that,” you giggled nervously. You didn’t have time to explain your obsession and love with the subject. “To answer your question, yes, I do enjoy the occasional romance novels too, although it depends. They should contain elements that spark the interest of the readers.”

“And what interests you?” Jongho’s smile widened even more as he asked the simple question, turning to you again and making your heart do a backflip.

For a moment, your head was a total mess. Of course, you enjoyed reading historical novels and occasionally light romantic ones, but most of it, you used to read them as an outlet for the day’s stress or when your heart ached from loneliness. As you grew into a fully grown adult and understood your body’s needs, a different craving for literature developed. The contents became dirtier and explicit.

That didn’t mean, however, that you were shameless enough to mention these types of works to anyone. Your eyes looked around briefly, scanning the area, making sure no one could catch sight of how flustered you’d become. Jongho was handsome, that much you could acknowledge as a fact. And in the time that you’ve known him and had been working in the mansion, a faint seedling of some sort of respect, admiration, and desire for something bloomed. The fact that you could imagine him holding you so intimately that you had started looking at his built figure, thinking of his lips over yours, his fingers trailing softly over every inch of your body.

Jongho followed your gaze to find it landed on the servants. To others, they were chatting and conversing with each other and working about the area while preparing to serve tea for afternoon refreshments. It was simply them going about doing their duties. “Miss?”

“Hm?” you uttered. “Yes?”

Jongho shifted towards you, leaning forward and casually adjusting his legs while sliding his hands closer to where yours rested on the table. His height caused his shoulder to hunch forward slightly, so his breath wafted across your cheeks, warm and soft. His handsome features, his neatly slicked hair, his gentle expressions, you could stare at his gorgeous features for hours and not grow bored with taking everything in. “Are you okay? You seem to be quite flustered.”

“Oh? Flustered?” A high-pitched noise escaped your lips, sounding more like a broken screech. “Me? I was just thinking that─”

You quickly cupped the cup with a nervous smile and drank more of the refreshing lemon drink. Your throat was tight. Was it getting warm? The way you shifted in the seat revealed the discomfort in between your thighs that continued to grow worse. Jongho had somehow affected your hormones without realizing.

“I-it’s nothing. Nope! Just me and my silly thoughts.” you swallowed thickly, fanning your heated face with your free hand.

You couldn’t understand why you started feeling this way for both Yunho and Jongho. These feelings weren’t like the kind that you’d had experienced before with anyone else. You’ve had your fair share of men, though folks would call you promiscuous because they didn’t believe any good woman would associate themselves with those kinds of folks. But with Yunho and Jongho, there was this unfamiliar sensation in how you reacted whenever you saw them. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you liked this. A lot. You loved feeling the butterflies in your stomach.

This sweet, new thing.

“Your face is pink,” Jongho noted casually. There was no hint of teasing. It was spoken with genuine, quiet worry that caused an oncoming headache, coupled with the dryness in your throat. “Perhaps you should lay down.”

Your lips tightened and pursed. “I will, I think.”

You dabbed at the corner of your mouth and then left the servant to clean up in order to exit to your bedroom to lie down. However, instead of a long and dreamless nap, your mind became filled with dreams and fantasies of what could be. Of Jongho and your fingers entwined, him leaning closer to steal a kiss, his lips so tender upon your own and his body flushed to yours, skin tingling with need. Of Yunho’s powerful arms around you, shielding you, and his breath hot and husky as he murmurs his affections, kissing you deeply with a passionate neediness. The images made you sigh heavily into the bedsheets, letting out all the tension that you had no other place for.

And deep down, you felt almost certain that there might be a place for both men within your heart.

The thoughts surrounding Yunho’s mind as he slept that night were those of Miss Y/N, whom he was growing more accustomed to seeing and thinking of each passing day. Every time, when she walked past him and greeted him or when she lingered near, he would breathe her in, notice every little detail like the crinkle near her mouth when she laughed and the light in her beautiful eyes. And just when he thought that she would be ingrained in his mind, her figure would change to that of his late wife, the curves, the colors and her voice would change into her tone.

Her face appeared a lot clearer than it has been for years. Almost as if she was here beside him, lying next to him with one arm and her head draped lazily across his chest as she fell asleep to him, running his fingers gently through her smooth locks. Even her touch, her sweet smell. It felt so real, as if it was not the first time he’d had her in his arms.

With a quick inhale and a shift of his head, his hand dropped limply onto the soft covers, and the rest of her figure faded from his mind. Her memory would always linger with a bit of uncertainty that threatened to spoil his mood. How strange, Yunho thought to himself as his eyes reopened to see the soft, plush bedding covering his bare chest. In the distant corner, moonlight continued to filter into the large room, bathing all the furniture in a silver glow. For the longest while, he remained motionless and stared at the ceiling. The cold sheets caressed him lovingly as he curled against his pillow.

He heard the whispers, the voices, coming from the walls, filling his brain, filling his very being. Was he becoming crazy? Every night, it grew stronger; the voices, her, trying to draw him into an ever-growing darkness.

“Yunho,” the whispers, the dead hiss came, causing him to clutch his pillow with white-knuckle strength, nails digging into the silky material as he clutched his head with his other hand.

They were always there; waiting for him, waiting for him to do... something.

“Yunho,” her breath, her breath was against his ear now.

“Yunho,” she hissed. “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. Don’t you want me, Yunho? Do you not want me? Yunho? Yunho!”

He closed his eyes, gripping the blankets in both fists, feeling her invisible touch on the backs of his shoulders. “No,” he whimpered, “not anymore, not anymore!”

The feel of her icy fingers on his chest sent ice into his heart. It felt like death in his ears, in his chest, in his mouth. Yunho squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt a hard shudder overcome his entire form.

“Give. Me. What. You. Promised.” Her voice grew louder, a silent roar, and louder, her words growing indistinguishable as he sat in silence, a tremor overtaking his body. Yunho could feel her fingernails drawing small circles and spirals upon his bare skin, and her mouth was cold upon his ear, her breath harsh and wet. “You promised me eternal life. Give it to me.”

He opened his eyes, staring at the ghostly apparition of his late wife who still continued to hover before him, grinning and chanting in that harsh, otherworldly voice. “I can’t... Not when the body you want is a breathing, living thing!” Yunho gritted through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you love me?” She snarled. “Don’t you miss me?”

He stiffened, not wanting to reply, as the sight of his former, most beloved person standing before him with such unabashed cruelty was too much. He kept silent, hearing his heart beat faster as the cold spread in his chest, like frost burning up the core of him.

“Tell me, dear,” her voice lowered, cooing and breathless in his ear, “do you still love me, after everything that happened, Yunho?”

He didn’t know how to reply. So many mixed emotions rose and threatened to overflow. The coldness in his bones and her heavy weight, the dread, the dread all sinking down upon him until he finally whispered,

“Yes...” Yunho looked at her, unflinching. His resolve held for this one second as the memories, the old fears, the hatred flooded him all the same.

She smiled, eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight.

“Do you wish you had me by your side, again?” She cooed and reached forward. “She looks like me, you know. You can have us both. Tell me, tell me.”

Yunho closed his eyes, shaking them, wanting to rid himself of the ghost before his eyes, his ghost, the vision before him, and then he cried aloud, “NO!”

And when he felt the warm hand that touched his arm gently, Yunho flinched away with a heavy gasp.

“My lord?” the quiet voice came. Yunho opened his eyes, the ghost of his late wife, nowhere to be seen. In her place stood his very real, breathing person.

You looked down at his sweat drenched body, a clear sign he was either having fever or having a nightmare. You head the sounds coming from his bedroom and dashed towards him to investigate the situation. Now, standing at the bedside and examining his poor sleeping figure and seeing how he tossed and turned.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, not caring that you were just in a thin layer of chemise that barely concealed all of your most intimate areas, or that he was naked from the waist up.

“Mmhm,” his throat muscles bobbed. It was all Yunho could manage through the overwhelming need and desire. You. He needed you. He needed someone else. Anyone other than her. She would not haunt him for long, not when he had a mind and will of his own. Not when he had you.

“I-I....” the man shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him so that you lay flat on the bed, his body hovering over you.

The blanket had moved aside and fell completely from his torso to the mattress, showing off the stunning upper body, tousled and messed hair, and a glint in his half-closed gaze. You exhaled shakily, still unmoving.

“Please. I... just want you. Just tonight,” he breathed, looking up from your cleavage. He captured your lips with his own, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Stay with me tonight.”

The gentleness, his words, and his touch seemed to burn into your skin. His hands moved up your arms, pinning them above your head as he devoured your mouth and your neck. His knee settled nicely between your legs. With every word, his teeth, tongue and lips trailed over the tender skin of your exposed throat and collarbone.

It felt right; his firm, warm body pressed to your own, the gentle tugs of his hands upon the flimsy chemise, the slow drag of his thumb across your lips, the feather-light brushes and caresses, his mouth upon yours, exploring, dominating, yet coaxing out your desire. The soft noises you make and the whimpers of his name urged him forward, spurring his hunger.

“Do you want me? Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. His mouth was so close that you felt his hot breath washing over your wet lips, making you shiver. “Please.”

“I want you,” you gasped, overwhelmed by your desires and needs and unable to say more. Your lips yearned for him. For his taste and his scent. You wanted nothing more but him.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he reached down with one hand to press a finger to your slick sex, dragging it upwards, sending your hips bucking and arching from the pleasurable shock that ripped through you. “Yunho....”

“I...” his breath quivered. “Is it alright?”

He was hard, unbelievably hard against your thigh and his tent was already apparent in the loose trousers he was wearing. Even so, his kind nature urged him to be respectful. “Is it?”

He glanced up and down at your bare and quivering form, taking in the curves of your soft, lush skin and the dips between. His gaze lingered on your full and luscious breasts with its stiffened peaks, so tantalizingly inviting and luring. You wiggled one of your hands free, grasping the hand that was on your sex, squeezing it as you smiled tenderly.

“Yes,” you breathed softly, and his eyes bore back at you in shock. “I am willing.”

After hearing your words of consent, he inserted a long finger inside you. You gasped loudly and arched your back as his mouth latched onto one hardened bud, taking your breast into his mouth, sucking greedily and harshly. He added another finger and began to slide his fingers in and out, allowing the tip of his fingers to run across that spot he knew would have you writhing in pleasure.

You bucked your hips again to meet the pace of his fingers, as you tried your best not to moan louder and louder. “P-please... Oh! Yunho, please.”

It felt as if every nerve ending in your body was alight and ready for his touch, to feel his heat wash over every inch of your exposed skin, even his soft breathing. As he pressed his body flat and covered your entire form with his own, the entire room seemed to dim, your hearing and vision a mess, every sound muted and faraway as you succumbed to the feel of Yunho’s hands and the press of his weight over you, which somehow reassured you.

“Hush now,” his low voice tickled your ear, making your entire body shake with anticipation and need. “Let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. So good.”

You found yourself moaning from his husky and thick voice alone. He rolled his hips to emphasise the point, dragging the hardened bulge against the inside of your thigh. He removed his hand from you only to rip your chemise cleanly down the middle.

“I’ll get you another one,” he chuckled when he saw your surprised face.

“How am I supposed to go back to my bedroom?” you managed between huffs.

“You don’t,” Yunho murmured, taking hold of both your hands in one grip again, pinning them together. “I intend to keep you all night long until the sun rises. We’ll see if you are not absolutely spent by then.”

Before you could utter another word, Yunho trailed, kissed down the valley between your breasts and all the way to your stomach, dipping the tip of his tongue in the tiny curve where the muscles in the belly are. Your senses were over flooded from every lick and stroke, each graze of his teeth, his hands and his mouth, kissing you, kneading you, stroking you, anywhere and everywhere.

Suddenly, there was an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Yunho rising. His hands made quick work of undoing the cord that kept his pants tied in place.

“Open your legs,” Yunho’s hot breath fanned over your cheeks as he breathed raggedly. He urged, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh lightly. “Wider.”

Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled down your body, his fingers all the way to the inner part of your thighs, pulling and spreading them apart for him. Without a warning, his tongue laved at your damp opening, drinking your essence greedily as you writhed and moaned beneath him. A firm hand went to your stomach, preventing you from moving too much as Yunho’s lips covered your swollen folds. You pulled on the silken strands of his hair, earning a growl of approval, and moaned softly at the sensation of his warm breaths fanned over your clit. His tongue swirled over your entrance, driving you absolutely mad.

With his talented and torturous mouth, Yunho didn’t take much longer until your release spasmed throughout your entire being, shattering your every thought and coherency. Yunho didn’t relent and continued devouring you, prolonging your release until you were forced to use your free hand to push his head away. When your breathing finally evened out, you felt Yunho shift, his weight above your pelvis, and his solid erection laid heavily between the apex of your thighs.

“Y/N,” his hands moved to your wrists once again. And, as you felt him enter your walls and slide deliciously along your soaking, moist flesh, he took your lips in a kiss, claiming your mouth and drawing a breathless gasp from you as his length filled you and stretched you most deliciously, stealing your breath away. The two of you settled into a delicious rhythm with his cock stroking in and out and with the thrust of his hips in perfect sync with your rocking. “You feel so good.”

The deep grunts that followed had you burying your nails into his skin, the need for him increasing as you could almost hear the thudding of your heart as Yunho’s movements got quicker, causing you to arch against his chest. There were no thoughts in your mind and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that escaped your lips. With his hand guiding your leg around him and the other supporting him, Yunho sank his length deeper inside you.

“So warm,” he shuddered in disbelief as his breathing became more ragged, the scent of his cologne and arousal hitting you directly, along with the droplets of sweat that began to form on his back. You moaned and whispered his name repeatedly like it was a spell, knowing that he needed more than just your words.

His low growls were so close to your ear, urging you to continue chanting his name with every movement until a small whimper broke from you, a soft, “oh.”

“Look at me,” his lips grazed your earlobe as you mewled and jerked your hips to meet his deep thrust. He needed to see the look of complete surrender on your face when he finished you. He wanted to see every detail.

“Yunho,” you let out a soft moan.

“Now,” he whispered in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine, drawing a gasp from you as he snapped his hips, embedding himself to the hilt. “Come for me.”

A cry, sweet and wanting, was forced from his lips, as Yunho wrapped his hands around your throat, capturing the moan in another kiss, making you feel the warmth radiating between your connected bodies. He breathed heavily and groaned at the contact of his throbbing erection in your heat. As if responding to your need, he squeezed the globes of your rear gently before continuing his rough and hurried strokes.

When the tension and pressure grew too great, Yunho couldn’t control himself. He climaxed with a deep grunt and your name. All his strength seemed to abandon him and his weight toppled over, leaning on you. Immediately, he shifted and placed a kiss at the top of your forehead, gathering you close to his sweat slicked skin with your head nestled under his chin.

Your hands roamed all over the expanse of Yunho’s broad, warm chest as his heartbeat started to slow. One hand pushed a stray strand away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks, moist and slightly swollen lips, and tousled hair. Yunho looked gorgeous and absolutely stunning underneath the pale moon that continued to provide its illuminating light.

His eyelids fluttered open to look directly into yours. With his right hand, he drew your face towards him. Your breath hitched as Yunho rested his forehead upon yours, his thumb grazing across your lips. He sucked in a deep breath and whispered something in a tone that you could not catch. Afterward, he moved downwards and connected his mouth to yours, kissing your lips fervently, relishing every little moan you emitted.

“You’re beautiful,” he uttered in the brief pauses between kisses, making you chuckle. “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “What happened to you earlier?”

With a furrowed expression, you witnessed the dark look that crossed Yunho’s handsome features. The way he carried himself, the quiet elegance he always displayed. It was all still the same, but there was also something hidden and tucked behind his person. Like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Yunho shook his head. “There’s... a lot of things that’s happened, Y/N. It’ll take a long time to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you replied quietly, brushing a thumb against his cheek.

Yunho merely looked at you, studying every minute detail of your face, committing everything to memory. At that moment, there was nothing else but you and Yunho. Nothing and no one could have this. And the way you spoke, the way your gentle hands moved across his skin as you spoke, the very fact that he was talking about something he hadn’t touched upon in the years of your company, caused him to think. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, after all.

“If there’s a reason,” you murmured slowly and cautiously as you rested a hand upon his naked chest, “a reason that has prevented you to open up and talk, I hope that in time, you’ll be willing to tell me what troubles you, Yunho.”

With a smile tugging his lips upwards, a genuine smile, Yunho held you close. For the first time in years, there was a spark of hope and warmth he could feel and it was not a hallucination, no.

It was very real.

One month passed by relatively fast.

You were standing next to Jongho, waving at the departing carriage that Yunho and the children had departed in. Yunho and the children were heading to the capital for the holidays, as was the custom for nobles to do. Sujin was clinging on to you for dear life and refused to leave, wailing and screaming in anguish, holding you tight in her embrace while the other two children joined her in their wails. Their loud sobs drowned out all the noise of the bustling servants and horses.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” you muttered, rubbing the child’s back soothingly and in a voice loud enough to be heard amongst the chaos. The toddler buried her face further into your chest, nodding slowly while sobbing quietly. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

Yunho sighed and walked up behind, gently peeling off Sujin from her iron grip.

“You have to let go, baby,” he soothed and smiled comfortingly.

“Papa, no!” she wailed, digging her face against Yunho’s chest with a new set of sobs. The older gentleman gave you a helpless look and sighed. You only offered a supportive smile in response.

“The sooner you let go, the sooner we can return and you can see Miss Y/N again,” Yunho cajoled with the toddler, still not relenting her hold on his shirt.

Yunho waited patiently as Sujin processed his statement and pulled her face back, still sniffling and sobbing and hiccupping. She nodded vigorously. “Uh, huh.”

“Alright. Say goodbye, now,” Yunho said sternly. The toddler pouted with tears dripping down her red face.

“Bye-bye mama,” she cried. “Bye-bye!!”

You stood there frozen and startled beyond belief. The children and everyone around them went still with astonishment as a sudden awkward silence washed over everyone and they stared back and forth. Your mind went blank and unresponsive, incapable of forming any thought and even a simple word as the small and fragile girl wrapped her arms around your neck once again, causing the spell to break.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” not bothering to correct the toddler. You embraced the little girl, taking in the smell of her soft baby hairs. With one final cry, the toddler released you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Jongho, keep Miss Y/N and the rest of the staff well,” the nobleman addressed to the younger man with a slight blush dusted over his cheekbones. He offered an apologetic grin before sending a knowing look your way and nodded, retreating inside his carriage with the crying kids trailing behind. The carriage shook roughly and then, with the sound of rattling wheels, was off.

“Mama, huh?” One maid let out a teasing grin. “Seems like the little lady has already taken a liking to you, Miss Y/N.”

“What do you expect? Miss Y/N is the closest to a mother figure that the young lord and ladies have.” The house steward, old and grizzled as he was, merely hummed in thought, stroking his beard in contemplation as he watched the retreating carriage fade in the distant hills.

“I don’t mind it at all,” you laughed. “Sujin is three, after all. She doesn’t understand much.”

“Just wait, Miss Y/N. In no time, all three children will start calling you mama. That would be adorable,” one of the kitchen maids added. Everyone began to chat animatedly. “The master already has affection towards you. It’s only a matter of time until those adorable tykes start picking up on his feelings.”

“What are you all saying?! That would never happen!” You blushed bright red as everyone burst out laughing.

Jongho chuckled. “Now, now. Let’s all get back to our duties. The sooner we all finish, the sooner we can finally relax!”

With Jongho’s cheerful remark, the atmosphere turned jubilant. The servants immediately scattered back to their stations and went back to their responsibilities. However, Jongho stood next to you. “You know he cares about you.”

“He-we’re not together!” You protested loudly, waving your hands frantically in front of you. “There’s no way he can like a woman of my stature.”

“Are you blind?” He laughed, patting your shoulder with a wide grin. “Everyone in this entire mansion and even the children have taken to you. You’ve fit right in like you were always a member here.”

“And you? Did you like having me around here as well, Mister Jongho?” You looked at him. You teased, a grin on your lips.

“More than you know. To me,” Jongho beamed, a look of pure relief overcoming his entire form. The burden that he had carried seemed to have evaporated. He nodded toward the large estate and the shrubbery in the garden. “To me, it’s almost like you were here to watch over all of us. Because, if anything, there was no one that has loved us like the way you did.”

“Jongho....” Your chest tightened. There was something about his eyes. Something about the way they took you and held you with utmost trust and admiration that brought joy into your heart.

“I know that, like all humans, Lord Yunho had his share of tragedies in the past,” the groundskeeper began quietly, as his gaze wandered to the green hills and to the morning sun, bathing him in a soft glow and accentuating his firm jaw and soft, brown hair.

“Can you tell me... about what happened?” you asked. “No, never mind,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to if-“

“No. It’s alright. You need to know,” he gave a strained laugh and gestured you to follow him. You and him walked down a path in the enormous garden, Jongho taking extra time to make sure all the shrubbery were in check and that the plants looked neat, pruned, and trimmed to his liking. The both of you stood underneath a small pavilion and sat at a table facing the fountain.

“What happened to her?” You asked him in a soft whisper.

“You mean Lady Ara?” His gaze lingered upon the lilies floating peacefully along the surface of the pond. He clenched his fingers tightly. “You look like her, you know. She was so vibrant, warm, gentle, and beautiful. But during the last few months of being pregnant with Miss Sujin, her health and strength began to wane.”

Your face showed concern. “How?”

“The grand library,” Jongho didn’t bother to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes followed a lone dove that alighted near one lily. Its wings fluttered against the cool wind and the breeze blew through his locks softly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Three months prior to little Sujin being born, Lady Ara was reading a book that wasn’t meant to be read.”

“What were they about?” You questioned quietly and carefully as the younger man’s brow furrowed.

“Old magic,” Jongho hesitated. He was visibly nervous and when you reached out to squeeze his hand, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped onto your hand with such a hard grip, his face contorting and crinkling in pain and horror that you almost feared he had broken a bone or two in his hand. “And with old magic, came a price.”

He swallowed and continued in a low, shaking whisper. “Her life.”

Silence was the only answer he received. So, he continued.

“Thank the goddess that little Sujin was spared the curse that was bestowed upon Lady Ara, but....” A bitter, defeated chuckle was heard as he stood from the bench. He picked up the clippers that laid upon the ground and snipped a tiny branch. “It would only be a matter of time before the curse took Lady Ara’s life. She didn’t make it through and now her ghost haunts the castle.”

“Ghost?” you asked.

“Haven’t you heard whispers? Chilling voices down the halls sometimes at night?” Jongho asked.

“So I’m not going crazy,” you whispered. “No wonder I hear these voices.”

“The staff and the children can’t hear or see her,” Jongho finally finished as he took his seat again. The old and withering rose bush branches were shedding their petals at a rapid pace as he pruned the branches and pulled at the weak buds. “But Yunho and I still do. Ever since her death, she’s been plaguing and tormenting both of us in different ways.”

You chewed at the insides of your bottom lip. “Why her?”

“Because her ghost is tied with that old book she read,” Jongho said.

“Can’t Yunho burn the book?” you asked. “I’m certain that would set her spirit free.”

“We tried, many times.” Jongho merely shrugged with a helpless look. He stabbed his clippers on the wooden bench with a sigh. “When the first two tries failed, it got worse. Whenever Yunho attempted to do such a thing, Lady Ara’s ghost would wail so loud and horribly. Yunho and I would find ourselves being paralyzed, unable to move or speak. And when we asked her what she wanted, she hissed that she didn’t want to go. That she wanted eternal life.”

“Jongho,” you said.

He snorted a little and turned his head away in shame, not meeting your worried and alarmed expression.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“You. She wants you, Y/N.” Jongho pressed a trembling hand against his temple. “She wants to take over your body.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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