WE ARE SO BACK! (again)
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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ATEEZ WRITERS IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, PLEASE WRITE A SERIES OR A ONE-SHOT ABOUT ANY OF THESE PHOTOS AND IF YOU DO PLEASE TAG ME!
𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦! 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 Bf!Ateez Texts - @littlexbunni ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Case: It's You [Book One] [Book Two] - @potatomountain detective!poly!ot8 x detective!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Comfort Texts - @srslyscary ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Compromise - @cyberpxnk bf!seonghwa x reader x soccer player!yunho (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Défilé De Lingerie - @/bro-atz lingerie designer!san x lingerie model!reader x lingerie tailor!mingi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Deal With The Devil - @hoeforalbedo priest!hongjoong x reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Destiny - @k-zuzu idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Do Not Touch - @bandgie death!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Duck Curtains - @ichorai roommate!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Enough - @mingsolo idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Essence - @whatudowhennooneseesyou siren!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Gently Giant - @jagibangbangchan whale mershark!seonghwa x mermaid!reader ft.pirate!ateez (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Got A Fur Coat, So I Make It Purr - @velvetydream idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Just A Few More Minutes - @skrrts stay-at-home dad!seonghwa x mom!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Know Your Place - @xosannie idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Early Bird Gets The Worm - @ja3hwa bf!yunho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Emotion Verte - @altxrrmelancholy bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hail To The King - @sweetinsaniiity king!yunho x ex-princess!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Head Empty, Mouth Full - @xosannie bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Lesson Plans - @callmeagardengnome professor!yunho x teaching assistant!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Perfect Opportunity - @mingi-s-dimples bf!idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Princess Fluffy-Cupcake-Sparkles - @seonghw4ffles non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Never Yours - @daceydeath idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Riding The Heat - @xomakara alpha!idol!yeosang x omega!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Sleepy Head - @sugawhaaa bf!yeosang x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Diet Pepsi - @loserlvrss bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Dream Come True - @makeitmingi dad!idol!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Facade Of Perfection [Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] - @koyagifs ceo!san x reader (three parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guilty Pleasure | Follow You - @orshii priest!san x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Handy - @hausofwoo maintenance man!san x tenant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Good Morning - @yuyusshinelight dad!husband!idol!mingi x mom!wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Happy Birthday to Us - @freyaphoria yandere!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Heat Stroke - @sluttywonwoo bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 His Chérie - @xuchiya idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Lip Gloss - @loserlvrss friend!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Day Off - @cyberseong bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Décolletage - @daddyfordaeddy servant!wooyoung x lady!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Don't Save Her (She Don't Wanna Be Saved) - @lunardragon00 peasant!wooyoung x princess!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Forbidden Fruit - @astrasng idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Fractured Promises - @koyagifs ceo!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Screeching Tires and Blood Stains - @daceydeath mafia!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Second Chance at Love - @xomakara single dad!widow!jongho x nanny!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Secretary Jongho Headcanon - @rems-writing secretary!jongho × ceo!reader (headcanon) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Sneaky - @hwallazia ceo!jongho x office worker!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stars - @beenbaanbuun bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
wow, a chapter where reader’s life isn’t going horrible. This is going great, but we still gotta kill mike that man is public enemy #1 I don’t care how he can blow up in space or die to a snail touching and i’ll be happy.
amazing chapter, excited to see what comes next <3
Popular, Boy
☆12: The first warning.
Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader
Genre: +18, smut, angst, slow burn, drama, dark academic, love triangle.
wc: 10k
Summary: Stepping back to your world and reclaiming your place with confidence and Hongjoong by your side, feeling that everything is better.
But some loyalties are bound by fear rather than choice.
Warnings: Cursing, manipulation, power dynamics, fluff.
Series masterlist Join the Taglist
☆11 ☆13: The first bliss. Coming soon
The sharp click of your heels echoes through the quiet hallway as you make your way toward your father’s office. The Clarke mansion is always pristine, always silent in places where it shouldn’t be.
It’s suffocating.
You pause outside the heavy wooden door, exhaling before knocking twice.
“Come in.”
You push the door open, stepping inside. Your father is at his desk, flipping through documents, while your mother sits on one of the velvet chairs across from him, sipping tea as if she has no real business here.
Both of them glance up at you, but it’s your mother who smiles first.
“Well, this is a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure, darling?”
Your father doesn’t say anything. He just watches, waiting. You clear your throat, keeping your tone even.
“I need a favor.”
Your mother’s eyes gleam with interest “A favor? That’s rare.” She sets her teacup down gently. “What is it?”
You don’t hesitate “It’s about Hongjoong.”
At that, your father raises a brow, finally giving you his full attention. Your mother, on the other hand, practically lights up.
“Oh, Hongjoong! I was beginning to think you weren’t talking to him anymore after—” She pauses, tilting her head, eyes sharp. “After that day.”
You knew this was coming. Of course she’d ask.Your fingers tighten slightly at your sides, but your voice remains composed.
“It was a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine between us now.”
Your mother hums in approval, looking far too pleased. “I knew you wouldn’t throw away something special over a little argument.”
Your father clears his throat, his tone clipped “If this is about that boy, get to the point.”
You nod “It’s not about him, exactly. It’s about his father.”
Both your parents exchange a glance.
You continue, “His father lost his job recently, and their family is struggling. I wanted to know if you could offer him something here. A driver, security—anything.”
Your mother leans back slightly, considering. “His father lost his job?” A small frown tugs at her lips, but it isn’t one of disapproval—it’s concern. “That’s terrible.”
Your father leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What does he do?”
“He was a chauffeur,” You answer. “For a private company, but they let him go.”
Your father exhales, glancing down at the papers on his desk as if debating whether this conversation is worth his time.
“A driver, huh?”
Your mother places a hand on his arm, smiling “Well, we do need another personal driver, don’t we?”
Your father gives her a pointed look, but you know him. He isn’t against the idea—he’s just pretending to be.
“It wouldn’t be a bad thing,” The woman continues, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle on her dress. “The boy is respectful, intelligent. If he’s anything like his son, I’m sure his father would be a good addition.”
Your father exhales through his nose before looking at you “You really want this?”
“Yes.”
A long pause. Then—
“Fine.”
Your mother claps her hands together lightly “Wonderful.” She turns back to you, a knowing smile on her lips. “Tell Hongjoong his father can start next week.”
Relief washes over you, but you keep your expression composed. You lean against the edge of your father’s desk, tilting your head just slightly, letting your voice soften into that sweet, spoiled tone you know they can’t resist.
“Thank you, Daddy,” You say, drawing out the last word just enough to sound affectionate, not excessive.
Your father exhales, shaking his head as if he’s already regretting agreeing to this. But you don’t miss the way the tension in his shoulders loosens. He likes it when you act like his perfect little girl—like you adore him.
Your mother watches the interaction with amusement, sipping her tea. “You should’ve just started with that, sweetheart. You know your father can’t say no to you when you ask nicely.”
Your father gives her a flat look “That’s not true.”
“Oh, please.” She waves a delicate hand in the air. “You’ve been wrapped around her little finger since she could talk.”
You flash a smug little smile, but before you can say anything, your mother’s expression brightens.
“Oh! That reminds me.” She sets her teacup down and turns to you expectantly. “You should invite Hongjoong over for dinner one day.”
Your father grunts “What?”
Your mother raises an eyebrow “What, what? I like him. He’s polite, intelligent, and much better company than some of your other friends.” She pauses, pressing a manicured finger to her lips in thought. “And he’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”
You scoff, rolling your eyes “Okay, calm down.”
She chuckles “I’m just saying, I want to see him again. And this time, without all the party noise.”
Your father mutters under his breath, flipping a page in his documents “I still don’t like the idea of my daughter wasting time with some scholarship kid.”
You pout dramatically, leaning toward him “But, Daddy,” You drawl, “I like him.”
He sighs, rubbing his temple “I swear, you only do this to torture me.”
You smile sweetly “That’s not true! I only do it when I want something.”
Your mother laughs, shaking her head “So? Will you invite him?”
You shrug, pushing off the desk “I’ll think about it.”
But you both know you’ll do it.
As you turn to leave, your mother calls after you, “And tell him I said hello!”
You wave a hand without looking back, already dreading Hongjoong’s reaction when you tell him.
Because if he agrees to dinner, you just know your mother is going to love embarrassing you.
✮ ⋆
Hongjoong opens the door, eyebrows raising slightly when he sees you standing on his porch, dressed effortlessly chic like you don’t belong in this neighborhood.
It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but it’s rare enough that the sight of you standing outside his house still feels surreal.
"Pretty?" He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. "Did I forget we had a date or something?"
You roll your eyes, stepping past him like you own the place "Please, nerd. If we had a date, you’d be waiting for me."
He huffs a laugh, closing the door behind you "So, what’s up?"
You spin on your heel, hands clasped in front of you like you’re about to drop the biggest news of the century.
"Well, I just came back from a very interesting conversation with my parents." He tenses slightly at the mention of them, but he doesn’t interrupt. "And guess what?" You tilt your head, smiling. "Your dad just got a job."
Hongjoong blinks "What?"
Before you can answer, his mother’s voice comes from the kitchen "Joong, who’s at the—" She pauses as she steps into the living room, eyes widening when she sees you. "Oh! YN, dear!"
You smile "Hi, Mrs. Kim."
His father enters the room next, looking surprised but polite "It’s nice to see you again, YN."
"You too, Mr. Kim," You reply warmly. "Actually, I came to tell you something." You glance at Hongjoong, then back to his father. "My dad just hired you as a personal driver."
A beat of silence. Then the woman clasps her hands together, eyes shining. "Oh, that’s wonderful news!" She turns to her husband, already fussing. "You see? Everything is working out. I told you things would get better."
The man, though visibly relieved, remains composed "This… this is really unexpected," He says carefully, looking at you. "Your father doesn’t know me, so why would he—"
"It was my idea," You cut in. "I told them about your situation, and they agreed."
Hongjoong’s parents exchange a glance, something unspoken passing between them. Gratitude. Maybe even a little disbelief.
Hongjoong stays quiet beside you, his eyes unreadable.
His mother sighs, then smiles at you warmly "YN, that was really kind of you."
You shrug, like it’s nothing, like you don’t actually care as much as you do "It’s the least I could do."
Mrs. Kim beams "Well, in that case, you must stay for dinner."
"Oh, I—"
"No buts," She says, already ushering you toward the dining table. "It’s our way of saying thank you."
You glance at Hongjoong, who just smirks, as if to say you brought this on yourself.
Fine. You’ll stay.
✮ ⋆
Dinner is surprisingly… nice. Warm. Unlike the silent, performative meals at the Clarke mansion, this table is filled with actual conversation.
Hongjoong’s father asks about school, his mother tells stories from work, and Hongjoong—well, he mostly watches you.
And under the table, his hand finds your thigh. You stiffen slightly at the unexpected touch, but when you glance at him, he’s focused on his plate like nothing’s happening.
His fingers, however, trace slow, lazy patterns against your skin, just under the hem of your skirt.
You shift slightly, your breath catching, but you don’t move his hand. His thumb presses lightly, and your nails dig into your fork.
Mrs. Kim suddenly laughs at something her husband says, then turns to you with a knowing look.
"YN, dear," She starts, voice full of something—something playful, something amused. "How long have you and my son been together?"
You nearly choke on your drink, Hongjoong finally looks up, biting back a smile.
"Excuse me?" You ask, feigning innocence.
His father smirks, shaking his head "You two think we don’t notice?" He nods toward his son. "You’ve been staring at her all night."
Hongjoong shrugs, far too casual "Can you blame me?"
You shoot him a look.
His mother giggles "And he’s been holding your hand under the table for the last ten minutes."
Oh.
You didn’t even realize. Somewhere between his teasing and the conversation, his hand had slipped into yours, fingers lazily intertwined.
Again, Hongjoong just smirks.
You clear your throat, quickly pulling your hand away "Anyway," You say, trying to steer the conversation anywhere else.
But his mother just hums, giving you both a knowing smile "Ah, young love."
Hongjoong leans in slightly, voice low enough for only you to hear "We could make it official, you know."
You gasp, eyes widening as you slap his arm lightly. "Hongjoong!"
His parents laugh at the interaction, clearly entertained, while Hongjoong just grins, absolutely unbothered.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised, pretty,” He teases, rubbing his arm dramatically like you actually hurt him.
You roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. Idiot.
After dinner, Mrs. Kim insists on making tea, despite Hongjoong’s grumbles that ‘YN probably only drinks champagne, Mom.’ You roll your eyes but accept the tea anyway, sitting at the kitchen counter as his parents clear the table.
Hongjoong stands beside you, arms crossed, leaning slightly against the counter. He’s relaxed, comfortable in his home, but his eyes flicker toward you every few seconds.
You tap your nails against your mug “Your mom likes me.”
He snorts “Understatement. She’s already planning our wedding.”
You scoff, taking a sip of tea “I’d be a great addition to your family, let’s be honest.”
He tilts his head, considering “You do have expensive taste. My mom would love the gifts you’d bring her.”
You nudge him with your elbow “Oh, shut up.”
He grins, but before he can say something else, his mother calls from the living room. “Joong, come help your father with something!”
Hongjoong exhales through his nose, standing up straight “Be right back.” He pauses before heading off, leaning down just slightly so only you can hear. “Don’t miss me too much, pretty.”
You roll your eyes, but he catches the way your lips twitch.
Once he’s gone, you’re left in the quiet of the kitchen, staring down at your tea. It’s strange being here. The warmth, the ease—nothing like the cold, calculated world you come from.
And you hate how much you like it.
A few minutes later, you’re checking your phone when you feel it—gentle fingers trailing down your back. You shiver, looking up just as Hongjoong settles behind you, his presence warm, solid.
“They’re in the living room,” He murmurs. “We have a few minutes alone.”
You raise an eyebrow “And?”
“And…” He steps closer, his hand resting lightly against your hip. “I want to be with you without my mom watching like she’s this close to planning our honeymoon.”
You smirk, but before you can retort, he dips down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.
Your breath catches. His lips ghost over your skin, slow, deliberate. His hands find your waist, fingers tightening ever so slightly.
You’re still sitting on the stool, and he’s standing between your legs, close enough that you can feel his warmth against you.
“Joong—”
“Shhh,” He murmurs, placing another kiss just beneath your jaw. “I just like being near you.”
Your heart stutters. For all the teasing, all the flirting, this moment is different. It’s soft. Unrushed. His fingers brush over the fabric of your skirt, trailing lazily along your thigh like he’s memorizing the feel of you.
You don’t stop him. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, giving him more access.
He hums in approval, lips brushing your pulse before finally pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, but there’s something else in them—something real.
His thumb traces circles against your hip “You should come over more.”
You exhale a quiet laugh “Your mom would love that.”
“She would,” He agrees, smirking. “And maybe I would too.”
Your fingers find the collar of his sweater, tugging him closer until your lips are almost touching.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then he kisses you.
It’s slow, deliberate, nothing rushed or messy. Just the warmth of his lips, the way his fingers tighten against you, the quiet hum that vibrates against your mouth.
He’s holding back, you can tell. And maybe you like that.
Maybe you like all of it.
But before things can go any further, the sound of someone clearing their throat shatters the moment.
You both freeze.
Slowly, you turn your head—only to see Mrs. Kim standing in the doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.
Hongjoong immediately steps back, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Uh...”
She sighs, shaking her head “At least take her out on a proper date first, Kim Hongjoongl.”
You burst out laughing, while Hongjoong groans, burying his face in his hands.
✮ ⋆
After that awkward situation in the kitchen, you and Hongjoong make your way to his room, excusing yourselves with a vague, ‘We have things to do.’ His parents exchange a glance but don’t argue. If anything, they look downright amused.
His room is cleaner than you expected. Bookshelves filled with everything from fantasy novels to thick textbooks line the walls, and his desk is cluttered but organized.
As he digs through his drawers for fresh clothes, you skim over his bookshelf, fingers brushing over the spines until one catches your eye.
You plop onto his bed, flipping through the pages, completely lost in the book.
Then, the bathroom door clicks open.
You glance up—and immediately freeze.
Hongjoong stands in the doorway, fresh from the shower, steam still curling around him. His damp hair clings slightly to his forehead, droplets of water trailing down the sharp planes of his chest.
And the only thing he’s wearing? A towel.
Low on his hips.
Your throat runs dry.
He doesn’t notice at first—he’s too busy running a hand through his hair, sighing like he’s still processing everything that happened tonight. But then he looks at you, noticing your wide eyes, the way your fingers have frozen over the page.
His lips curve “Oh?” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Something wrong, pretty?”
You snap the book shut. Hard.
“Why are you standing there like that?” You demand, clearing your throat, pretending that nothing about this is affecting you.
Hongjoong shrugs “It’s my room. Didn’t know I needed to be fully dressed to exist in it.”
You glare at him “You’re doing this on purpose.”
He tilts his head, looking far too pleased with himself “Doing what on purpose?”
Your jaw clenches. Fine. Two can play this game.
You set the book aside and stretch, tilting your head slightly, letting your gaze slowly trail down his torso.
Hongjoong’s smirk falters just a little. Then, as if completely unfazed, you lean back against his pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“You know,” You say, feigning nonchalance, “For a nerd, you’re in surprisingly good shape.”
He blinks. Then—he laughs, shaking his head “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”
You raise an eyebrow “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” He steps closer, eyes darkening slightly, “That you are the biggest tease I’ve ever met.”
He’s right in front of you now, way too close, the scent of his shampoo still fresh. You can see the water droplets clinging to his collarbone, sliding down his skin, disappearing beneath the towel.
Your stomach flutters “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You say, voice way too even.
Hongjoong hums, unconvinced. And then his fingers graze your knee. You jolt slightly, but before you can react, he slides his hand up, slow, teasing. Over your thigh, pushing your skirt up just barely, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive skin.
Your breath hitches.
He leans in, voice low, taunting “Tell me, pretty…” His lips hover near your ear. “If I am doing this on purpose… is it working?”
Your pulse pounds.
God, you hate him. But you also don’t.
And maybe that’s the real problem.
Before you can make the very reckless decision to grab him by the towel and end his teasing yourself, Hongjoong grins—the cockiest grin you’ve ever seen—and pulls away completely, stepping back toward his dresser like nothing just happened.
“I should get dressed,” He muses, voice far too casual. “We have places to be, remember?”
You stare at him. He’s so lucky you like him.
You exhale sharply, crossing your arms as he rummages through his drawer “You are the most annoying person I know.”
He tosses a shirt over his head, grinning “And yet, here you are.”
You throw a pillow at him.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Fifteen minutes later, you arrive at the café, the glow from the streetlights casting long shadows through the clear glass windows. Your steps slow as your eyes land on her.
Jina.
She’s behind the counter, casually wiping a glass, completely unaware of what’s coming.
Your lips press into a thin line, irritation bubbling to the surface.
Hongjoong notices immediately, chuckling under his breath as he reaches out, fingers tilting your chin so your eyes meet his instead.
"Stop frowning, pretty. You’ll get wrinkles."
You scoff “Joong, that slut tried to mess with me and you. Don’t expect me to act all nice and sweet around her.”
His lips twitch with amusement, but instead of scolding you, he leans down and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your lips.
"It’s okay, pretty. But please don’t punch her, or I’ll never bring you to a café again."
You roll your eyes “Whatever.”
Hongjoong sighs but laces his fingers through yours, leading you toward the entrance. The bell above the door jingles softly as you step inside, the warm scent of coffee and vanilla lingering in the air.
The second Jina hears the sound, she turns, already slipping into her customer-service smile.
"Welcome to—"
Her voice dies in her throat the moment she sees you.
You, standing next to him.
You, holding his hand like nothing had happened between you two.
A flicker of something—shock, unease—crosses her face before she quickly schools her expression.
Still, you catch it.
The hesitation.
The way she stiffens ever so slightly under your gaze.
She swallows, clearing her throat "Welcome to Café Aurora. How can I help you?"
Hongjoong doesn’t respond. Neither do you. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a neatly folded envelope, placing it on the counter.
"It’s my resignation. Thank Mr. Choi on my behalf."
Jina flinches slightly at the soft thud of the envelope hitting the polished wood.
"What?" Her voice comes out quieter than she intends.
He doesn’t repeat himself. He simply watches her, expression unreadable. A heavy silence settles between the three of you, thick with tension.
Then, he speaks again—his tone even, but firm.
"Before we go, I want to ask you something, Jina." She tenses. "Where do you know Park Seonghwa from?"
For the first time, true panic flashes across her face.
Her breath catches. Her fingers tighten around the rag she’s holding, knuckles turning white.
You don’t miss the way her eyes flick toward you—just for a second—before she quickly looks away, pretending to focus on something across the room.
Like she’s debating whether or not to lie.
Like she’s wondering if you remember.
Your own brows furrow slightly. Why would she—And then it hits you.
The familiarity in her gaze. The way she seems to know you, not just Hongjoong.
You narrow your eyes “Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?”
Jina’s jaw tightens, lips pressing into a firm line.
Hongjoong shifts slightly beside you, glancing between the two of you “Wait. You know her?”
You blink, memories stirring in the back of your mind, hazy but persistent. You have seen her before.
Not here.
Not as Hongjoong’s coworker.
But years ago.
At Seonghwa’s house.
Your stomach drops, realization crashes into you like a tidal wave. Jina wasn’t just some random girl working at this café.
She worked for Seonghwa’s family.
She had been there. During the years you “dated” Hwa, when you spent countless afternoons at his house. And yet, back then, you never really noticed her.
She was just another staff member, someone in the background, someone who blended into the luxury of the Park estate.
But the way Jina looks at you now—Like she remembers everything.
Like she knows exactly who you are.
Your throat tightens, and Hongjoong notices the change in your expression immediately.
“YN?”
Jina exhales slowly, fingers still gripping the rag in her hands. Then—finally—she speaks. "So, you really don’t remember, huh?"
You meet her gaze, heart pounding “Remember what?”
Jina lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking her head “Figures.” She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice. “You used to be in his house all the time, but you never even looked at me, did you?”
Your fingers curl into fists “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jina tilts her head, eyes glinting “You really don’t know, do you?”
Hongjoong stiffens beside you “Know what?”
She pauses, studying you both.
"Are you sure Seonghwa wanted something serious with you back then?"
A sharp, hollow ache settles in your chest, the weight of Jina’s words pressing into you like a slow, creeping poison.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your voice is sharp, but there’s something beneath it—something raw.
Jina smirks, tapping her fingers against the counter, eyes flickering between you and Hongjoong.
“I mean exactly what I said. Are you sure Seonghwa ever really saw you as his?”
Hongjoong shifts beside you, his presence grounding you, but your pulse is hammering against your ribs.
“You’re lying.”
Jina raises a brow, clearly amused “Am I?”
Your jaw clenches. You want to ignore this. You want to roll your eyes, turn around, and walk out like none of this matters. Like he doesn’t matter. Like your past with Hwa was just that—past.
But something inside you twists.
You had liked him—really liked him. Back then, you had convinced yourself that the games you played with him meant something, that the tension, the lingering glances, the way he acted like you were the only girl in the room was real.
But if Jina’s words were true—if he had never really meant it, if you were just one of many—then what the hell had all of it been for?
Your stomach churns. Hongjoong, silent until now, finally steps in, his voice firm, protective.
“YN, we don’t have to listen to this.”
But you can’t move. You can’t breathe. Because the memories are flashing—the nights you waited for Seonghwa to call, the excuses he made, the moments that never quite added up.
Jina watches you, her smirk deepening “There it is.”
You snap your gaze back to hers, eyes burning “What do you want? Huh? What’s your goal here?”
Jina leans back, feigning innocence “I don’t want anything. I just think you deserve to know what kind of man Seonghwa really is.”
It shouldn’t hurt. Not anymore.
You have Hongjoong.
Hongjoong, who would never play with your feelings like that. Hongjoong, who looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world.
And suddenly, that’s enough.
The pain dulls.
You exhale, letting go of the sharp, bitter sting in your chest. You turn to him, and when your eyes meet, the warmth there is undeniable.
You have everything you need.
Seonghwa is just a name from your past. A mistake.
You look back at Jina, but this time, your lips curve—not into a smirk, not into anger, but into indifference.
“You know what, Jina?” You say smoothly, voice steady. “I don’t care.”
Jina blinks, her smirk faltering for the first time.
You step closer, tilting your head “You really thought this would break me?” A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “That’s pathetic.”
And with that, you turn to Hongjoong, grabbing his hand as you lace your fingers through his. His grip tightens, reassuring.
Without another word, you pull him toward the exit, leaving Jina behind.
Because for the first time, you realize—you’ve already won.
✮ ⋆
The low hum of the car engine fills the silence between you and Hongjoong as he drives through the dimly lit streets.
The city blurs past, neon lights reflecting against the windshield, but your mind is somewhere else—stuck in the past.
Hongjoong doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.
He can sense it—the shift in your mood, the way your shoulders are tense, the distant look in your eyes.
“You’re quiet,” He finally says, voice softer than usual.
You don’t answer right away. Instead, you sigh, shifting slightly in your seat.
“I’m just… thinking.”
Hongjoong hums in acknowledgment, giving you space to find the words. You exhale sharply, pressing your forehead against the window for a moment before turning to him.
“Did I ever tell you that I really liked Seonghwa?”
Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around the wheel, but he keeps his expression neutral.
“No, but I assumed it for the way you two used to act.” He says carefully.
A bitter chuckle leaves your lips “Well, I did. Or at least, I thought I did.” You shake your head, scoffing at yourself. “I was so sure that what we had was real. That if I played hard to get long enough, he’d actually make a move.”
He doesn’t interrupt, just listens.
Your fingers tighten into your lap “And now, to find out that he was screwing around with Jina the entire time…” You trail off, clenching your jaw. “I was an idiot.”
Hongjoong exhales, reaching over to take your hand in his. His thumb strokes slow, soothing circles against your skin.
“You weren’t an idiot,” He murmurs. “You just believed in someone who didn’t deserve it.”
Your chest tightens. You glance down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch spreading through you, grounding you.
He continues, his voice gentle but firm “Seoghwa never deserved you. And if he had even half a brain, he would’ve known that.”
You look at him then, your lips parting slightly. There’s no jealousy in his voice. No smugness. Just certainty. Like he’s always known your worth—even when you didn’t.
For the first time since leaving the café, the ache in your chest softens.
You squeeze his hand “Thank you, Joongie.” You say quietly.
Hongjoong offers you a small smile before focusing back on the road.
“Are you going to confront him?” He asks.
You nod, your gaze sharpening “Oh, absolutely. He owes me an apology, and he’s going to give it.”
He chuckles “Remind me never to piss you off.”
You smirk, feeling lighter than before “Oh, you already did. You’re just lucky I forgave you.”
By the time you pull into the long driveway of your mansion, the tension between you and Hongjoong has shifted into something else entirely.
Something heavier.
The moment the car stops, silence settles between you—thick, charged.
Hongjoong shifts in his seat, eyes flickering to yours, dark and hungry “You’re staring,” He murmurs.
Your lips curl into a slow smirk “So are you.”
He swallows hard. You know what he’s thinking. You feel it—the weight of weeks spent apart, of lingering touches that never went far enough, of all the things left unsaid.
And now, alone in the dim glow of the car, it finally snaps.
You reach for him first, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him in. Your lips crash against his, and the moment they do, he groans—low, needy, like he’s been starving for this.
Hongjoong kisses you like he’s making up for lost time—desperate, reckless, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping you tighter than he should.
You don’t care, you want it—want him.
A soft moan escapes you when his fingers slip beneath your dress, skimming along your thighs, his touch scorching against your skin.
“Fuck,” He breathes against your lips, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath ragged. “We should—go inside.”
You smirk, trailing your fingers down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer beneath your palm.
“You sure you can wait that long?”
His jaw clenches, his hands tightening around you, and before you know it, he’s pulling you into his lap, his seat pushed back just enough.
The moment you straddle him, he loses it.
His hands roam greedily, his lips devour yours, his breath hitching every time you grind against him.
But then—
The sudden flash of headlights approaching the driveway snaps you both back to reality.
You jolt, your eyes widening “Shit.”
Hongjoong curses, gripping your waist as you scramble off him, both of you breathless, flushed, aching. You adjust your skirt, and Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.
“You’re a menace,” He mutters, voice hoarse.
You grin, fixing your lipstick in the rearview mirror “And you love it.”
He huffs a laugh, shaking his head “Yeah. I do.”
The moment you step out of the car, smoothing your dress and pretending you weren’t just grinding on your nerdy boy, you hear the hum of an approaching engine.
Hongjoong, still catching his breath, freezes beside you. His hair is a mess, his hoodie slightly disheveled—he looks guilty as hell. You turn your head just in time to see the sleek black car pulling into the driveway.
Your parents’ car, your heart drops.
He exhales sharply “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
You barely have time to compose yourself before the car door swings open and your mother steps out first, graceful as ever. Your father follows, adjusting his cufflinks, both completely unaware of what they just interrupted.
Yet.
“Sweetie!” Your mother’s voice is warm, delighted. “What a surprise to see you home early.”
Hongjoong tenses beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking like a kid caught sneaking out past curfew.
You, on the other hand, recover instantly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and flashing a perfectly practiced smile.
“Hi.” You greet smoothly, stepping forward like nothing is out of the ordinary. “Didn’t expect you two back so soon. How was dinner?”
Your father eyes Hongjoong for a second longer than necessary before answering.
“Productive,” He says, his tone measured. “We met with investors—secured another deal.”
“Oh, how lovely.” You nod, your voice syrupy sweet, desperately hoping they won’t notice the faint smudge of lipstick on Hongjoong’s jaw.
But your mother’s sharp gaze flickers between the two of you, taking in every detail. The way Hongjoong won’t meet her eyes, the slight flush on his face, the way your dress looks just a little more wrinkled than before.
Then—realization dawns.
Her lips twitch “Oh, honey,” She hums, amused. “We didn’t… interrupt anything, did we?”
Hongjoong chokes. Actually chokes.
You blink, keeping your expression perfectly neutral “Of course not,” You lie effortlessly.
Your mother tilts her head, clearly not believing a single word.
Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Darling, be discreet,” He mutters. “If you must do… this”—he waves a vague hand between you and Hongjoong—“At least have the decency to do it inside the house.”
Hongjoong turns bright red. his glasses covering the way his eyes shut with embarrassment.
You grin, looping your arm through his “Of course, Daddy. We’ll be very discreet.”
Your father groans. Your mother, meanwhile, just smirks, shaking her head.
“Hongjoong, dear,” She says smoothly, “Why don’t you come inside for a drink before you go?”
Hongjoong, still recovering, nods stiffly “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”
You pat his chest, whispering, “Relax, nerd. My mom likes you.”
He mutters under his breath “That’s not the one I’m worried about.”
And with that, you lead him inside—your parents following close behind, and your mother still very much amused.
The warmth of the mansion greets you as you step inside, but the atmosphere is anything but comfortable for Hongjoong.
Your mother glides in effortlessly, a small knowing smile still lingering on her lips, while your father sighs heavily, already loosening his tie like he doesn’t want to deal with this tonight.
Hongjoong, on the other hand?
He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.
You squeeze his hand reassuringly as the four of you step into the lounge, where the dim glow of the chandelier casts soft shadows across the room.
Your mother gestures toward the leather sofas “Sit, sit,” She says, her voice almost teasing.
He hesitates. You don’t.
Dragging him along with you, you plop down elegantly on one of the couches, crossing your legs, exuding nothing but confidence. Hongjoong, stiff as a board, lowers himself beside you—looking very out of place.
Your father pours himself a drink, running a tired hand through his hair before turning to him.
“Whiskey?” He asks.
Hongjoong blinks “Uh—no, sir. I’m good.”
Your mother hums, sitting gracefully across from you both “You don’t have to be so formal, Hongjoong. We already know you and YN are… close.”
He shifts uncomfortably “Right.”
You smirk, tapping your fingers against your knee “You don’t have to traumatize him, Mom.”
Your mother chuckles, tilting her head “I think it’s adorable. You’re the first boy YN has ever brought home in a serious way.”
Hongjoong freezes.
Your father scoffs “Serious?” He sips his drink, unimpressed. “This is the same girl who threw a designer shoe at my head when I suggested she attend a dinner instead of going out with friends.”
Your mother ignores him “Hongjoong, sweetheart, how is your family?”
He blinks, snapping out of his existential crisis “Oh—uh, good. My dad had his first day today. Thank you again for the opportunity, Mr. Clarke.”
Your father nods, dismissive “He did well.”
Your mother, however, smiles warmly “It was YN’s idea.”
Mike turns to you. “I know,” he says softly. “I still don’t know how to thank you.”
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You don’t have to.”
But your mother? She notices everything—the way Hongjoong looks at you, the way your fingers twitch like you’re stopping yourself from reaching for his hand, the way he makes you soft.
Her smile deepens “Well,” She hums, placing her glass down. “Since we’re all so comfortable, why don’t you join us for dinner sometime soon, Hongjoong?”
He stiffens, you grin. Your father sighs, already regretting everything.
Hongjoong clears his throat “That’s… really generous, Mrs. Clarke.”
“Oh, please,” She waves him off. “Call me Catherine.”
Hongjoong visibly swallows “That’s… really generous, Catherine.”
Your father nearly chokes on his drink, you snicker under your breath.
Your mother just beams “Perfect. I’ll set something up soon.”
He nods, and just when he thinks the interrogation is over your mother’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her smirk returning.
“So,” She leans forward slightly, voice dangerously amused. “Where exactly were you two before we arrived?”
Hongjoong stops breathing.
Your father sighs into his whiskey “Jesus Christ, Catherine.”
You, completely unbothered, just smirk “Nowhere interesting.”
Your mother laughs, sipping her wine.
Hongjoong? He’s never been more stressed in his life.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The school hallways are alive with chatter as you step through the entrance, the silence parting for you like the sea parting for royalty.
It’s been three weeks since you last walked these halls. Three long weeks, spent hiding in the shadows of your own house, nursing wounds both physical and emotional.
But today, you're back.
Your heels click against the floor with each confident step, and you feel the eyes of the students on you—some of them staring in awe, some in jealousy, and others in pure admiration.
Whispers ripple through the crowd as you walk past them, and you can’t help but smirk. You know what they’re saying.
The Queen Bee has returned.
You walk with your head held high, shoulders squared, and a smile that borders on smug. Your friends are all there, surrounding you like the loyal subjects they are. Mindy and Wooyoung are by your side, smiling at the attention you're getting, the flashes of admiration in their eyes mirroring your own.
But even as you drink in the attention, there’s something in the air that you can’t ignore. The familiar pressure of someone’s gaze—the feeling of eyes on you from across the room.
You know who it is before you even see him.
Seonghwa.
You turn your head, catching sight of him standing near his locker, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watches you approach. He straightens as you get closer, the friendly expression in his eyes barely masking the sharpness beneath.
"Sweetheart," He says, his voice smooth, warm, and filled with an almost brotherly concern. "Where have you been? Haven't seen you around for a while. Everything okay?"
You smile, perfectly poised, the kind of smile that looks warm but never quite reaches your eyes.
“Seonghwa,” You greet, stopping just short of where he stands. “How sweet of you to notice.”
He chuckles, leaning against his locker with the kind of casual arrogance that once made your stomach flutter.
Now? It makes you sick.
“Of course I noticed,” He says smoothly, eyes flickering over your face, your stance—always analyzing, always calculating. “Three weeks is a long time to go without seeing you.”
Mindy and Wooyoung exchange glances behind you, but they say nothing. They know better than to interrupt.
You tilt your head, feigning curiosity “Did you miss me?”
Hwa smirks, and there it is—that infuriating, cocky confidence, the belief that you’ll always fall into his hands, just like you used to.
“I think the better question is,” He steps closer, voice lowering, “Did you miss me?”
You laugh, the sound light and dismissive, like the very thought is entertaining.
“Hwa,” You purr, tapping a manicured nail against your chin, “I’ve had… so much to think about these past few weeks.” Your gaze drags over him, slow, assessing—letting him think he still has a chance. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve learned.”
His smirk falters for half a second, but you see it.
You see everything.
You step closer, close enough that only he can hear you when you murmur, “You and I have so much to catch up on.”
Seonghwa studies you, trying to gauge if you’re being playful or if there’s something more dangerous beneath your words.
You don’t let him figure it out.
Instead, you brush past him, letting your perfume linger in the air between you, a lingering reminder that you are no longer the fool who once loved him blindly.
Mindy falls into step beside you, waiting until you’re out of earshot before whispering, “That was fucking terrifying.”
Wooyoung just whistles “Damn, babydoll. He’s gonna suffer.”
You smile.
He has no idea.
✮ ⋆
The cafeteria is alive with energy, students laughing, chatting, living in their own little worlds. But at your table? The air is thick, heavy with tension, the kind that turns heads and makes people pay attention.
You sit at your usual spot, sipping your drink as Mindy and Wooyoung throw teasing comments back and forth.
Across from you, San and Mingi lounge comfortably, more entertained than anything as Seonghwa takes his seat, acting as if he owns the space.
And he might have before.
Before he started working against you. Before he thought he could outplay you. Before you learned the truth.
Seonghwa leans forward, flashing you a smirk, his presence demanding your attention "So, baby—"
“Hey, pretty.”
The entire table shifts, your smirk grows before you even turn to look. Because you already know who that voice belongs to.
Hongjoong.
He slides into the seat beside you like he’s been doing it for years, like this is exactly where he belongs. And then—he does it. He leans in, presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, his hand resting against your thigh like it’s his right.
Seonghwa goes still.
Mindy bites her lip to keep from grinning. Wooyoung? He’s barely containing a laugh.
San and Mingi glance at each other, picking up on something dangerous.
But Seonghwa?
He’s frozen, staring at you and Hongjoong like the world just tilted off its axis.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” His voice is low, tight with something uglier than frustration.
You tilt your head, eyes dancing with amusement “Something wrong?”
Hwa’s jaw clenches “I thought…” He stops himself, recalculating, but the damage is already done. You see it in his eyes.
He thought he still had a chance.
And now? He doesn’t.
Hongjoong doesn’t even glance at him. He just shrugs, completely at ease “I think he thought we weren’t on good terms, pretty.”
Seonghwa’s eyes snap to him, burning with fury.
You smirk.
“Oh, Hwa,” Mindy sighs dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You should’ve kept up with the gossip.”
Seonghwa stares at you, as if waiting for some kind of explanation, some confirmation that this is all a joke.
But you don’t give him one. Instead, you lean into Hongjoong’s touch, fingers grazing over his wrist in an intimate, deliberate move.
The weight of his glare is suffocating, burning into you and Hongjoong, but neither of you react. You just smile, the picture of ease, while Hongjoong—calm, collected, unbothered—takes a sip of his drink like this is just another normal day.
San and Mingi exchange a look, sensing the storm brewing, but Wooyoung and Mindy? They’re thriving in the chaos.
Seonghwa finally speaks, his voice tight, controlled, but just barely.
“So, what? You two just—got back together?” His fingers drum against the table, a nervous tick he can’t quite suppress.
You lean back, feigning surprise “Why wouldn’t we?”
His eyes darken, his lips part like he’s about to argue, but he stops himself. He’s realizing things, piecing together all the lies he swallowed as truth.
Mindy hums, propping her chin on her hand “Did you really think they broke up, Hwa?”
Seonghwa doesn’t look at her. He looks at you and you hold his gaze, refusing to be the first to break. He hated that about you—how you never wavered, never bent to his will.
His tongue clicks, irritation flashing across his face “It’s just funny, that’s all.” His smirk returns, but it’s weaker now, forced. “Considering the rumors.”
You feign innocence “Rumors?”
He leans in, dropping his voice so only you can hear “That this nerd was using you.”
Hongjoong tenses beside you.
You grin, slow and deliberate “Oh, that.”
Hwa’s smirk twitches. You place a hand on Hongjoong’s thigh, casual, effortless—a claim.
“If that were true,” You murmur, “Do you really think I’d still be with him?”
Seonghwa hates the way Hongjoong doesn’t even have to say anything. Hates the way you’re looking at him like he’s the one who’s pathetic.
His jaw tightens, and for a brief second, you can see it—the fury, the frustration, the realization that he played himself.
And then—he laughs. Shakes his head, leaning back, drumming his fingers on the table again, pretending this doesn’t bother him.
“Guess not,” He mutters, eyes flicking toward Wooyoung and Mindy. “Guess someone’s been feeding me bullshit.”
Mindy gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest “Oh no, Hwa. Were you misled?”
Wooyoung grins, wrapping an arm around her “Damn, man. That’s rough.”
Hwa’s eyes narrow. He knows.
He knows they set him up.
And when he looks at you one last time, you don’t have to say it out loud.
You played the game better.
And he lost.
For the first time, he has no control.
For the first time, you won.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The final bell rings, signaling the end of another school day. Students spill into the hallways, laughter and chatter filling the air as everyone heads off to do whatever rich, privileged, private-school kids do after class.
You glance at Hongjoong as you walk beside him, nudging his arm lightly.
“So, what’s the plan, nerd? Are you free?”
He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Actually… Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang need me for something in the library.”
“You’re ditching me to do nerd things?”
He chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets “Not ditching. I did say you could come.”
You stop walking, turning to him with a slow, dramatic smirk “You want me to do nerd stuff… with your nerd friends… nerd?”
Hongjoong grins “Basically.”
You scoff, crossing your arms “I should say no on principle.”
“But you won’t,” He counters easily, smug.
You narrow your eyes at him, then sigh in exaggerated defeat “Fine. I’ll grace you all with my presence. But if I get bored, I’m leaving.”
Hongjoong nudges your waist playfully “You won’t.”
You roll your eyes but let him lead the way.
The library is quiet, dimly lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the tall, arched windows. Shelves of books stretch high, the scent of old paper and wood polish lingering in the air.
At a far table, three familiar faces sit, already setting up their things—Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang. You and Hongjoong approach, and Yunho looks up first, his face brightening in surprise.
“Oh, hey, man. You actually brought her?”
Jongho smirks “I thought she’d be too busy shopping or making people cry.”
Hongjoong shrugs “She wanted to come.”
You snort, sliding into a chair “Let’s not lie to ourselves, Kim.”
Yeosang laughs, shaking his head before glancing toward the bookshelves “We should probably get started. Dann’s already here.”
“Wait—Dann’s here?” The moment Hongjoong says it, you stiffen too.
You turn your head slowly—too slowly—until your gaze locks onto her.
Dann.
She stands a few feet away, a book clutched tightly in her hands, her entire body tense.
Your presence here? She wasn’t expecting it.
You and Hongjoong sit down at the table, but there's an undeniable awkwardness that hangs in the air. Dann’s presence is almost suffocating—you can feel her gaze on you, but you pretend you don't notice.
Instead, you lean in toward Hongjoong, your hand finding its way to his thigh under the table.
His fingers graze your wrist as you smile at him, brushing your lips against his ear “Ready to work, nerd?” You murmur, your breath warm against his skin.
He smiles back, that familiar look of adoration in his eyes “Always, but first—”
He leans in and kisses you, slow and teasing, the kind of kiss that makes you feel like the world just stops for a moment.
You pull away just slightly, eyes meeting his “You really need to stop distracting me,” You tease.
Hongjoong grins, not one bit sorry “I can’t help it when you're so distracting.”
The others at the table shift uncomfortably, and you feel the heat of their awkward glances. Yunho, trying to break the tension, clears his throat loudly.
“So, Queen Bee, you gonna help us with this or what?”
You blink “How quaint.”
“Yeah, we're gonna need someone with that attitude to get through this,” Jongho jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully. “And since Joong’s clearly already distracted—”
You roll your eyes but don’t resist “Fine, fine. What are we doing?”
From the corner of your eye, you catch Dann standing slightly apart from the group, fidgeting with the book in her hands. She’s trying to act like she’s not watching, but you feel it—her stare, the weight of her presence, the discomfort written all over her face.
Hongjoong, oblivious to everything but you, leans in slightly “We’re creating study guides for other students. Wanna help?”
You scoff, crossing your arms “Study guides? I didn’t know school nerds were running that kind of operation.”
Jongho laughs, tilting his head at you “Really? I didn’t know you even knew about the study guides. I thought you just paid nerds to take your exams for you.”
Your jaw drops slightly in mock offense, but in reality, you find the comment hilarious.
“Excuse you,” You huff, flipping your hair dramatically. “I am more than a pretty face, you nerd.” You snatch a textbook from the stack in front of you. “Now, give me those fucking books.”
Hongjoong grins at you, shaking his head “See? She’s a fast learner.”
“I was always smart,” You correct, flipping open the book and pretending to scan the page.
“That’s up for debate,” Jongho quips.
“You better watch it,” You warn, smirking.
Yunho chuckles, nudging Dann, who still stands awkwardly on the sidelines “Come on, don’t just stand there. You’re supposed to be the real nerd here.”
Dann startles slightly, caught off guard “H-Huh?”
Yeosang shoots her a knowing look, his voice light but careful “Don’t act like you haven’t done this a million times before. You’re always the one fixing our answers.”
Jongho nods in agreement “Yeah, sit down, Dann.”
Dann hesitates, but the warmth in their voices, the familiarity, makes her shift awkwardly. “I—yeah.”
“You in?” Yeosang asks.
Her heart clenches. Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? She was never really in. Not the way you are.
Not the way she wanted to be.
But despite the sting, she forces a smile, nodding “Yeah. I’m in.”
She pretends it doesn’t hurt when she sees Hongjoong’s hand absently squeeze your thigh under the table.
She pretends that being included still means something.
Even if it’s too late.
——
As the study session progresses, the library fills with the quiet hum of flipping pages, hushed discussions, and the occasional laughter from your table.
You're flipping through one of the books, trying to make sense of the notes when Hongjoong leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“You sure you’re not just pretending to read?” He murmurs.
You scoff, shoving his face away lightly “Shut up, nerd.”
Jongho snorts “That’s literally what we said—she just sits here to look smart.”
You glare at him, tossing a pencil in his direction “I will end you.”
Yeosang smirks, tapping his pen against his notebook “I mean, to be fair, YN, we are impressed. Usually, you’d be terrorizing the halls, not… doing actual schoolwork.”
Yunho grins “And she hasn’t threatened to quit yet. Growth.”
“Yet,” You emphasize, pointing your pen at him. “Don't get ahead of yourselves.”
Hongjoong chuckles, sliding an arm over the back of your chair, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder.
“Nah, she’s too competitive to quit now. She’s gotta prove us all wrong.”
You huff but don’t deny it. Meanwhile, Dann barely hears the conversation.
She keeps her head down, scribbling mindlessly in the margins of her notebook, pretending to be focused. But in reality, she’s distracted—by the way Hongjoong leans into you, how effortlessly you fall into place among his friends.
She should be used to this feeling by now, but it still stings.
Yunho nudges her again, voice lighthearted “Dann, you good? You haven’t called me an idiot yet, and I know I’ve messed up at least three times.”
Dann blinks, forcing a weak chuckle “Oh—uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”
Yeosang tilts his head, studying her a little too carefully, but doesn’t press.
“Was just asking if I should format this section like the last one or break it into smaller parts,” Yunho says, handing her a sheet of notes.
She takes it with trembling fingers, trying to focus. But then—
Soft laughter.
She glances up just in time to see Hongjoong kissing your cheek, his hand resting way too comfortably on your lap.
Her stomach twists.
She did this.
She made a deal with Seonghwa. She fed Mike information. She helped spread rumors about you.
And for what?
To watch Hongjoong fall for someone else anyway? To watch you win again?
Her grip on the pen tightens. But… it’s not jealousy that eats at her this time.
It’s guilt.
Because if she had just stayed out of it, if she hadn’t let her petty resentment and heartbreak drive her, maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.
Maybe Mike wouldn’t have gone that far.
Maybe Hongjoong wouldn’t hate her if he knew.
But now, it’s too late.
She can’t undo what she’s done.
And soon, she’ll have no choice but to face it.
✮ ⋆
The library session lasts longer than expected. By the time you all wrap up, the school halls are mostly empty, bathed in the dim glow of the evening lights.
Hongjoong stretches beside you, cracking his neck "Alright, nerd squad, mission accomplished."
Jongho groans, rubbing his eyes "Barely. I swear, if one more person asks me to explain quadratic equations, I'm quitting school."
Yeosang chuckles, stuffing his papers into his bag "You'll survive. Probably."
"Yeah, yeah," Jongho mutters. Then he smirks. "Still can't believe YN actually helped."
"I told you," Hongjoong says proudly, pulling you close with an arm around your waist. "She's not just a pretty face."
"Obviously," You say, flipping your hair.
Yunho stretches, groaning "That’s enough brainpower for today."
Hongjoong grins "You sure? Thought nerd stuff was your hobby."
Linda scoffs, leaning into his side "Yeah, yeah, this was cute and all, but next time, I’m making you all do my homework instead."
Hongjoong chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your cheek for just a second longer than necessary, and the small gesture makes your heart flutter.
Across the table, Dann watches.
Everyone is grabbing their things, chatting casually about the day as they prepare to leave.
And then—
"You already know Hongjoong is using you, right?"
The words hang in the air, cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere like a blade.
Hongjoong freezes.
You do too.
Slowly, you turn your head, eyes locking onto Dann.
She looks like she immediately regrets it.
Yunho lets out a low whistle "Damn."
Yeosang glances between the three of you, eyebrows raised.
Jongho exhales sharply, his grip tightening around the strap of his backpack "What the hell did you just say?"
Dann’s mouth parts, but no words come out.
"I—"
"You know what?" Your voice is eerily calm, dangerously calm. "Let me make sure I heard you right." You tilt your head. "You think Joong is using me?"
Dann’s heart pounds, she didn’t mean to say it.
It just slipped.
She was so lost in her own thoughts, so lost in the pain of seeing you two together that the words just fell out.
But now it’s too late.
Hongjoong scoffs, running a hand down his face "That’s actually insane."
"You know what’s more insane?" You fold your arms. "The fact that you even thought that, Dann."
"I—" She tries again, her voice wavering. "I didn’t mean… It was just—"
"Just what?" Your voice is sharper now. "Something you just casually thought? Or did someone put that idea in your head?" Dann’s stomach drops. You let out a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable."
Yunho and Jongho exchange glances, watching the scene unfold in tense silence.
Yeosang clears his throat "Uh, maybe we should—"
"No." Hongjoong shakes his head. "I wanna hear this." His voice lowers, but it’s sharp—cutting. "You really think that little of me?"
Dann panics.
"I didn’t— I mean, I don’t know!" She blurts out, shaking her head. "I just.. I heard—" She stops herself.
But it’s already too late.
Your expression doesn’t change, but the slightest flicker in your gaze tells Hongjoong everything. You know exactly what’s happening.
But you can’t let on, so you do what you do best.
You smirk "You heard what?" You ask smoothly, tilting your head. "Come on, Dann. Don’t get shy on me now."
Dann feels trapped. Every fiber in her being is screaming at her to fix this.
To lie.
To say anything to make it go away.
But she can’t.
She can only stand there, feeling the weight of her own betrayal crushing down on her.
Hongjoong exhales sharply, shaking his head "I really thought we were cool, Dann."
That makes it worse.
He doesn’t sound angry.
He sounds disappointed.
Dann swallows hard, staring at the floor "I… I should go."
Nobody stops her.
Not even Yunho, Jongho, or Yeosang.
She grabs her things and rushes out, leaving behind the suffocating tension she created.
The second she’s gone, Jongho exhales, shaking his head "What the fuck was that?"
"That was crazy."
Hongjoong is still staring at the door Dann disappeared through.
You touch his arm, voice soft "You okay?"
He looks down at you, searching your face for a moment before sighing "Yeah," He mutters. "I’m just— I don’t know. I was really hoping that she wasn't involved with Park and Mike."
You squeeze his hand, your voice steady "Well, she is."
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The dining room is bathed in warm, golden light, the soft clinking of silverware against fine china the only sound filling the space.
The Clarke family dinners are always a performance—elegance, poise, and surface-level pleasantries hiding the rot underneath.
You push your food around your plate, only half-listening as your mother hums approvingly, sipping her wine.
“Well,” She says, a pleased smile on her lips. “I must say, Hongjoong’s father has been a wonderful addition to the household staff.”
Your fork pauses midair.
Mike’s does too.
Your father nods in agreement, setting his glass down “Punctual, respectful, efficient—everything we could ask for. He’s handling the job well.”
You relax slightly, about to take a bite when Mike speaks.
“I’m sorry, but what?”
The room stiffens. You glance up just in time to catch his expression shift—from confusion to realization to rage.
Your mother, ever the graceful hostess, waves a hand delicately “Oh, we didn’t mention it, did we?” She chuckles lightly, as if it were a minor oversight. “YN came to us with the idea. Hongjoong’s father was out of work, so we hired him.”
Mike’s jaw tightens, his grip on his knife turns white-knuckled. You feel the tension roll off him in waves.
Your father—oblivious or simply uninterested in Mike’s growing fury—adds, “And truthfully, it was a great decision. The man is trustworthy. If he keeps it up, he might even stay with us long-term.”
Mike’s fork clatters against his plate. Your mother flinches.
“I see,” He says, voice icy. His gaze cuts straight through you. “And no one thought to tell me?”
“Didn’t seem necessary,” Your father replies simply.
Mike’s anger shifts, redirecting itself entirely onto you “Of course,” He mutters. “It was your idea.”
You meet his gaze, keeping your posture calm, collected, untouchable “Yes,” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “It was.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it “Unbelievable.”
Your mother sighs, setting down her fork “Mike, don’t start.”
“Don’t start?” Mike echoes, leaning back in his chair. “So, let me get this straight—you let her bring some random lower-class worker into our home, let him drive us around like some pet project, and I’m just supposed to accept it?”
“He’s not random,” You say, voice sharp. “He’s Hongjoong’s father.”
“Oh, right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Hongjoong.” His gaze darkens. “The same guy who’s using you?”
You hold a smile, he still believes it.
Mike leans forward, elbows resting on the table, his eyes glinting with something cruel. “What, did he guilt you into this? Make you feel bad for his pathetic little family?”
You set your wine glass down a little too hard.
Your mother tenses. “Mike—”
But you cut her off “You don’t know a damn thing about him.” Your voice is cold, final.
He smirks “Oh, but I do.” He tilts his head, eyes flickering with mock sympathy. “You just don’t want to hear it.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” You agree, voice like steel. “Because it’s bullshit.”
Mike’s smirk drops.
Your father sighs “Enough.”
But Mike isn’t finished “You can dress him up however you want, YN,” he sneers. “But at the end of the day? He’s just a pathetic loser clinging to your last name.”
Your hands curl into fists.
“And you,” He continues, voice lowering, “Are a complete idiot for falling for it.”
The air is thick with silence.
Your mother exhales, rubbing her temples “Mike, we’re eating.”
Your father levels him with a stare “Your attitude is getting out of hand.”
He laughs, pushing his plate away “Yeah? Well, so is hers.” He stands, chair scraping against the floor. “You can let yourself get used like a fucking idiot if you want,” He says, voice dripping with disgust. “Just don’t expect me to sit here and watch.”
He storms off, leaving the room in tense silence. Your parents exchange a tired look. You take another sip of wine, heartbeat hammering in your chest.
From the hallway, someone is listening.
Dann.
And her guilt grows.
✮ ⋆
The Clarke mansion is quiet, the weight of dinner’s tension still lingering in the air. The staff moves about their business in silence, avoiding eye contact, as if sensing that something dark is simmering beneath the surface.
Dann, however, isn’t moving.
She’s frozen just outside the dining room, her mind replaying everything she just overheard. The way Mike spat his words at you, the venom in his voice, the sheer hatred he had for her—all because she had helped someone he despised.
Because you had made a choice that wasn’t about him.
Dann swallows hard, guilt gnawing at her insides like a slow poison. She should feel relieved that you had fought back—that for once, someone had shut Mike down. But all she feels is fear.
Because if he could talk to his own sister like that, what was stopping him from turning on her?
The thought chills her. She should leave. She should go to her room and pretend none of this is her problem. But before she can move a hand grabs her wrist.
She whirls around, heart slamming against her ribs, only to come face to face with him.
Mike.
The air leaves her lungs. His grip isn’t tight—not yet—but it’s firm enough to send pure terror coursing through her veins.
“You,” He murmurs, his voice dangerously low. His eyes are sharp, scanning her face like she’s something rotten beneath his shoe.
Dann tries to pull away, but his fingers tighten, his hold turning bruising.
“M-Mike,” She stammers, forcing a nervous laugh. “What’s—what’s wrong?”
His lips curl into a cold smirk “You tell me.”
Dann swallows, willing herself to stay calm “I don’t—”
“Did you know?” His voice cuts through the air like a blade.
Dann stiffens “Know… what?”
Mike leans in, his breath hot against her skin. “About Hongjoong’s father working for my family.”
“I—”
His grip tightens “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dann.”
“I didn’t know!” She blurts out, panic creeping into her voice. “I swear, I—I had no idea—”
His jaw ticks. He’s not buying it “You’ve been avoiding me,” He murmurs, his tone almost thoughtful. “Ever since that night.”
Dann goes rigid.
That night.
The night he put his hands on you.
The night she realized just how much of a monster he truly was.
“I haven’t—”
His fingers suddenly clamp around her arm, and he pulls her forward, dragging her through the hallway. Dann yelps, stumbling after him, fear clawing at her throat.
“Where are we—?”
“Somewhere private,” He cuts her off smoothly.
Her stomach twists. The deeper into the house they go, the quieter it becomes. The staff is gone. There’s no one to see them. No one to stop him.
No one to help her.
Mike finally shoves open a door that leads to the back garden, a secluded area far from the main house. The night air is cold, but the way he looks at her sends a different kind of chill through her bones.
Dann stumbles back, chest heaving, trying to create space. “Mike, I—”
“You think I don’t see it?” He says, voice eerily calm. “You think I don’t know you’re hiding something from me?”
Dann shakes her head, heart pounding “I swear I didn’t know about it. I would have told you!”
And it was true, she didn't know about Hongjoong’s father working for your family. But Mike just stares at her. Studying her.
Then he laughs.
A low, quiet chuckle that makes her skin crawl.
“Look at you,” He murmurs. “Fucking shaking.”
Dann flinches.
Mike steps closer, towering over her “I don’t like when people keep secrets from me, Dann,” He murmurs, voice like poison.
Dann’s chest tightens.
This is it.
This is the moment.
She can keep playing his game. Keep letting him control her. Keep living in fear.
Or she can do what she should have done weeks ago.
Her fingers curl into fists. She lifts her head, her cheek still burning, and looks him dead in the eyes.
“You’re a fucking coward.”
Mike freezes.
Dann’s pulse roars in her ears. Her own words shock her. But once they’re out, she can’t stop.
“You think you’re so powerful,” She breathes, voice shaking but growing stronger. “You think everyone should be afraid of you. But deep down, you’re just pathetic.”
Mike’s jaw clenches. Dann forces herself to smile. It’s small, shaky, but it’s there.
And for the first time in weeks, she feels powerful. Because she can see it.
For just a fraction of a second, his smirk drops and before she can react—
His hand swings.
The impact is sharp, brutal. Dann’s head snaps to the side, a gasp catches in her throat. The sting spreads across her cheek like fire, her vision blurring from the sheer shock.
Her body locks up.
She can’t breathe.
She can’t move.
Dann’s heart is pounding so loudly it drowns out the quiet.
Mike’s handprint burns on her cheek, the sting radiating through her skull, but the real pain isn’t physical.
It’s the terror.
The realization that she pushed him too far. The garden is empty, secluded—the perfect place for a nightmare. And Mike?
He looks like he’s enjoying it.
His lips curve into a slow smirk as he watches her struggle to catch her breath, her fingers trembling at her sides.
‘You’re a fucking coward.’
The words still hang in the air, and Dann knows she’s signed her own death sentence.
Mike’s expression darkens. His posture stiffens. And then he laughs.
Low. Amused. Cruel.
“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” His voice is quiet, almost mocking.
Dann stays silent. She knows better than to answer. But he doesn’t need her to. He steps forward, closing the space between them, and she flinches instinctively.
His smirk widens “Cute. You think you’re brave now, don’t you?”
Dann swallows hard “I—”
“Shut up,” He cuts her off. The amusement vanishes, replaced with something far colder.
His gaze sweeps over her, calculating, dissecting—like he’s deciding exactly how to break her.
“I bet you think you have nothing to lose,” He murmurs. “That you can just walk away from this and be fine.”
Dann’s breathing falters.
That tone. That deadly calm.
It’s worse than when he’s yelling. Because when Mike speaks like this—he means it.
“I could ruin your mother in a second,” He continues, voice smooth, effortless. “She works for my family. She needs this job. And you?” His head tilts slightly. “You need her to keep it. To pay for your father’s hospital bills.”
Dann’s stomach twists violently.
He knows.
He knows.
“How did you—?” Her voice catches.
Mike chuckles “You think I don’t do my research?” His expression turns mocking. “Your poor, pitiful father, lying there in a hospital bed, while your mother slaves away to keep him alive. And you? You run around playing spy for me, all because you wanted some nerd to look your way.”
Dann feels sick. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms.
“Leave them out of this,” She whispers.
“Oh? Now you care?” Mike exhales sharply, like he’s bored. “I mean, your mother’s getting old, isn’t she? I doubt she’d find another job if something were to… happen to her position.”
Dann’s lungs seize. And then, the final nail in the coffin.
“Oh, and your father?” Mike clicks his tongue. “A vegetable in a hospital bed, wasting away.” His tone is almost mocking. “How long has it been? Three years?”
Dann’s entire body locks up. Because he’s right.
Three years.
Three years of her mother breaking her back to keep him alive. Three years of Dann doing everything she could to ease the burden.
Three years of hoping. That maybe, one day, her father would wake up.
Mike’s voice cuts through the fog of her fear “I could make that bed disappear, you know.”
Dann stares at him, eyes wide.
“I mean, think about it.” He shrugs. “What’s the point of keeping someone around who isn’t even awake? The doctors must be tired of keeping him alive. And your mother? Imagine how relieved she’d be if she didn’t have to worry about hospital bills anymore.”
Dann’s breathing turns shallow. Her fingers dig into her skin so hard they might leave bruises. Mike leans back, watching her come undone.
Then he smiles “And as for you?” He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “I can make sure you don’t even finish school.”
Dann’s heart drops, his smirk is gone now, his eyes cold and merciless.
“You think my family doesn’t have connections in the education system?” He scoffs. “All it takes is one phone call. One simple request. And suddenly, your scholarship? Gone. Your grades? Suspiciously altered. Your teachers? Unwilling to recommend you for any other school.”
Dann freezes, because he’s not bluffing. This isn’t an empty threat.
This is real.
Her entire future—her mother’s future—her father’s life—all hanging by a single thread. And Mike?
He’s holding the scissors.
“You don’t want that, do you? So, tell me, Dann.” His voice softens, but the cruelty behind it only makes it worse. “Are you still on my side?”
Dann’s lips part, but no words come out.
She should scream. She should fight back.
She should run.
But instead—She nods.
Because she has no choice.
Because she’s afraid.
Because her father’s life is hanging in the balance.
And because she’s not ready to lose everything.
Mike’s smirk returns “Good girl.”
And just like that—it’s over. He pats her cheek mockingly before stepping back.
“You know what to do.” His voice is smooth, assured, like he’s never once considered the possibility of her betraying him.
Because why would he?
She’s trapped.
Dann watches as he walks away, leaving her frozen in the garden, hands trembling, chest tight.
Her father, her mother, her entire life.
Mike owns all of it.
Tears blur her vision as she wraps her arms around herself, body wracked with silent shame.
She wants to do the right thing.
But survival?
It comes first
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
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All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.
I need someone to hug reader i’m so serious
strangers by nature | iv
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: 5.7K Warnings: a little angst, mental health care, hints of child abduction, mentions of death, mentions of infidelity
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a/n: being sick means more time to bust out content
You paced around your bedroom, restless energy driving each step as the anticipation of your upcoming therapy session settled over you. The faint glow of the laptop screen illuminated the room, the app open and waiting. The timer ticked down with an almost menacing rhythm as you adjusted the laptop, twisting it slightly left, then right, before stepping back to assess the angle.
Tired eyes stared back at you, dulled by sleepless nights, and the lines on your face seemed deeper, etched by the weight of too many burdens. No amount of hydrating could fix this.
The laptop chimed, signaling the start of the session. With a heavy sigh, you clicked "Join." The screen flickered, and soon the familiar face of your therapist, Jungah, came into view.
“Y/N! How are you?”
You hesitated, your eyes darting to the floor for a moment. “I’m...well, a lot has happened since our last session.”
Jungah nodded gently, her expression softening as she leaned in, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Tell me more,” she encouraged.
“Mingi was in an accident,” you said, the words feeling heavier as they left your mouth. “He’s…in a coma right now.”
“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now! How are you holding up?”
You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to respond. “I’m pretty overwhelmed. I got a dog though, which is great. But everything about the situation just feels so…complicated,” you admitted, your voice dropping slightly.
“Part of me feels like I should be…devastated. And I am, in a way. I think just because we’ve always had such a difficult relationship.”
“It’s okay to feel all of those things. There’s no ‘right’ way to process something like this. What’s been the hardest part for you?”
You hesitated, your fingers tracing patterns on the edge of your desk as your thoughts churned.
“Probably the fact that it reminds me of when Hongjoong was in the hospital. During his battle with cancer.”
“Right, and we talked about that in our first session. What kind of feelings does this bring up for you?”
You swallowed hard, the words clawing their way out of you.
“Guilt. I can’t believe I was in class when it happened,” you began, your voice already trembling. Your voice cracked, and you gripped the edge of the desk tightly. Your breath hitched, and you shook your head as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“I should have been there,” you said, the words spilling out in a rush, your voice rising with emotion. “I should’ve skipped class, stayed by his side, done something. I thought I had more time, and then—then I didn’t.”
A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“He died alone. Alone. And I wasn’t there to tell him I loved him one last time, to hold his hand, to let him know he wasn’t alone.”
You pressed your palm against your chest, as if trying to steady the ache threatening to consume you.
“And now, with Mingi,” you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. “We’ve never been close. But the thought of leaving him alone, of him waking up, o-or dying and not having anyone there, makes it feel like it’s happening all over again.”
Your voice broke completely, and a sob tore from your throat. You buried your face in your hands, fingers clutching at your temples as though trying to contain the flood of emotions pouring out.
Mingi’s head shot up, his ears twitching as the sound of your broken sobs filled the room. Panic flashed in his eyes, and he scrambled to his feet, the urgency of your pain pulling him forward. He stumbled slightly, his small paws skidding on the floor in his haste, but he didn’t stop until he was in your lap.
With all the force his tiny body could muster, he pressed against you, nudging your hands, pawing at your chest—anything to pull you back from the edge. His movements were frantic, almost desperate, as if he could piece you back together with his touch.
No, no, no, don't cry.
“Why does this keep happening to me?” you choked out. You curled in on yourself, arms wrapping around your middle as if to contain the grief threatening to consume you whole.
Mingi had never seen you like this. The weight of it crushed him—heavier than any argument you’d ever had, sharper than the harshest words exchanged in anger.
He’d known about Hongjoong’s death in a detached, matter-of-fact way—something that had happened before your lives became entangled. But until now, it hadn’t occurred to him how deeply that loss had scarred you, how it marred your heart.
You weren’t just the person he’d been forced to marry, the one he’d spent so much energy resenting and clashing with. You were a whole person—someone who had loved, lost, and carried burdens he hadn’t even noticed.
“Y/N,” Jungah said softly, “take a deep breath with me. Just one. In through your nose...and out through your mouth.”
You tried to follow her lead, managing a shaky inhale, then exhaling in a stuttering gasp, fresh tears spilling down as you followed the motions.
“It’s not your fault,” Jungah said. “None of this is your fault—not Hongjoong’s passing, and not Mingi’s accident. You loved Hongjoong, and you’re doing everything you can for Mingi now. That’s what matters.”
“That’s the problem,” you said, your voice trembling. “I shouldn’t be the only one. His parents—” Your words caught, a wave of anger rising in your throat, hot and bitter, cutting you off mid-sentence.
“They wouldn’t even take turns staying with him at the hospital! I asked. But his mom brushed me off like it was nothing, like their son lying there broken didn’t matter.”
Jungah’s face softened with understanding, but you could see the anger flicker in her eyes. “That’s not on you, either. They’re the ones failing him, not you.”
“I just…I just can’t stand the thought of him being alone. Even after everything he’s done, after all the hurt—he doesn’t deserve that. No one does.”
Mingi’s heart clenched—not with guilt, but with a profound, almost overwhelming sense of gratitude. You were angry, hurt, and exhausted, yet you still stood up for him. You still wanted to be there for him, even after all the ways he’d hurt you, you stayed.
It struck him then–he had spent so much time fighting against your world, your pain, but had never truly tried to understand it.
“You’re right to be angry. They should be there for him, but they’re not, and that’s their shame to bear. You, on the other hand, have gone above and beyond. You’ve stayed. You’ve cared. And that says so much more about who you are.”
“I’m so tired,” you admitted. "I don’t even know if I’m doing this because I care or because I’m afraid of looking like a terrible person. I just want to do the right thing, but I don’t know what that is anymore.”
“Y/N,” she said gently, “it sounds like you’re carrying a lot and putting everyone else’s needs before your own. You know, it’s okay to prioritize yourself.”
“I know, I know.” You ran a shaky hand through your hair, “I don’t know what that looks like for me right now. I think I just care too much about people who’d never do the same for me. I feel…pathetic, honestly.”
“I hear you,” Jungah said softly. “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s natural to question where you stand, especially when you give so much of yourself to others and don’t always get it back.”
Your gaze drifted down to Maro, his soft brown eyes watching you intently. As if sensing your turmoil, he nudged his head against your hand. You offered him a weak smile, gently scratching behind his ears.
“But I need you to hear this, Y/N. You’re showing compassion, and there’s incredible strength in that. You’re standing up for someone who needs your care and your support, someone who may not even realize how much they need you right now.”
“Taking care of yourself isn’t a betrayal of those qualities, it’s a part of them. You deserve the same care you give to everyone else. You’re worthy of that, Y/N. You need to remember that.”
Jungah smiled softly as your therapy session came to a close. “We’ll keep working through this, step by step. For now, just think about what self-care might look like for you. You’ve been through so much, Y/N. Give yourself the grace you so readily give to others.”
“Thank you,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes.
With a shaky exhale, you gave her a small, grateful wave before reaching out to end the call. The screen went dark, and the silence of the room rushed in to fill the space where her voice had been.
For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the blank screen of your laptop. The tears welled up again, but this time they came slower, quieter, as if you were finally too tired to hold them back. You let out a long, trembling sigh before looking down at Maro, who was watching you intensely.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as he nestled into your chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his fur, your voice barely audible.
You didn’t even know exactly what you were apologizing for—maybe for being angry, for feeling conflicted, for not having all the answers. But Mingi didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he nuzzled closer, his way of silently telling you he understood, that he saw the pain you were carrying.
He could feel it all—the storm raging inside you. The guilt, the exhaustion, the anger. He was someone who had hurt you, who had failed you in ways he couldn’t begin to measure. Yet here you were, holding him as if he was still worth fighting for.
You were fighting—for him, for yourself, for the hope that things could be different. And though he didn’t know if he deserved it, Mingi silently willed you to keep going. Somehow, in the stillness, he realized something…you were his reason to fight, too.
⋆
The café was quiet when you arrived, the gentle hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware blending into a soft, comforting din. Near the window, Mrs. Kim sat in the warm glow of sunlight, quietly leafing through a stack of sheet music while humming along to the notes.
“Y/N!” she greeted, her face lighting up as she caught sight of you. Rising from her seat, she pulled you into a gentle hug, her familiar warmth easing the lingering tension in your shoulders. Her gaze dropped, and her expression softened when she noticed the small figure nestled at your feet.
“And who is this?” The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.
“This is Maro,” you replied, scooping him up into your arms. His ears perked up at the sound of his name, his curious eyes darting toward Mrs. Kim.
“I hope it’s okay that I brought him along.”
Mrs. Kim chuckled, her hand already reaching out toward him. “Of course it’s okay,” she said warmly, her fingers brushing against his soft fur as she gently scratched behind his ears. Maro leaned into her touch, his fluffy tail wagging slightly.
“It’s nice to have some extra company.”
You sat down, and Maro settled under the table as the server came by to take your order. Hongjoong’s mother watched you for a moment, her gaze warm but thoughtful, as if she was piecing something together.
“You seem…tired,” she noted softly.
You let out a dry chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “When you’re married to the most narcissistic family on the planet, it kind of comes with the territory,” you replied with a wry smile, the humor in your words unable to mask the weariness behind them.
Mingi let out a quiet huff, his ears flicking back as he gave you a sidelong glance from his position under the table. His frown was subtle but noticeable, a clear sign that he didn’t entirely agree with your assessment of his family—even if he couldn’t voice his objections.
“Marriage can be… complicated,” she said gently, lifting her mug to her lips, “but it’s in those challenges that we often discover who we really are.”
Mrs. Kim folded her hands over the sheet music, her gaze warm yet thoughtful. “It’s also about finding ways to grow together. It’s often the small, quiet decisions to stay and try that matter most, even when it feels impossible.”
She paused before adding, “I know the Songs can be…intense. But people like that are mirrors. They reflect parts of yourself—your strengths, weaknesses, and fears. Facing those reflections isn’t easy, but it can lead to unexpected growth.”
“I just wish it didn’t feel like a constant fight. Like I’m always proving something—to them, to myself, to Mingi.”
“Proving yourself is exhausting. But maybe, without realizing it, you’re showing them how to fight for something worth keeping.” Mrs. Kim’s voice was gentle, her words lingering in the air before she added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, before I forget…”
She slid the stack of sheet music into your hands, your breath caught as you scanned the pages, immediately recognizing Hongjoong’s handwriting—the chaotic, unruly script that mirrored the way his mind danced through ideas, always just a little ahead of itself.
“Jazz?” you murmured, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.
“Just a few of his hundreds of compositions he’d written over the years,” she explained, her own smile touched with sadness. “I thought…you might want to have them.”
You ran your fingers lightly over the pages, the notes and markings so distinctly him—bold, inventive, and just a touch wild. The ache in your chest swelled, but it was softened by the warmth of the memory.
“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “This means a lot.”
“He always wanted his music to be shared, to bring people joy. I think he’d be happy knowing you have these.”
Under the table, Mingi pawed at Mrs. Kim’s leg. It was a small, almost instinctive gesture, as if even in his canine form, he wanted to ease the weight of her sadness. Mrs. Kim’s gaze softened as she glanced down at him.
Mingi studied her closely, sensing the deep sadness she carried beneath her calm demeanor. It was an enduring grief for her son, one that seemed to seep into every word she spoke and every careful action she took. Yet, she never let it consume her. Instead, she channeled it into wisdom, offering others a sense of peace and understanding.
He couldn’t help but wonder if his own mother would ever be capable of finding those same emotions.
“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” she murmured, her voice low, almost as though she were speaking to herself.
“Thank you for keeping me company, dear.”
Mingi tilted his head, his small tail wagging slightly as he considered her words. People often avoided what they didn’t understand or couldn’t fix. And yet, here he was, a tiny puppy, silently promising her he wouldn’t be one of those people—at least, not today.
“Excuse me? Have you seen my daughter?”
The frantic question cut through the murmur of the busy street. Mrs. Kim and Mingi turned in unison, her hand still resting on the leash as her gaze landed on the source of the voice. You looked up from adjusting your coat just in time to catch the woman’s anxious expression as she stopped abruptly, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “My daughter, Yena, she’s...she’s gone! She was right beside me just a moment ago, and now I can’t find her. She’s five, wearing a pink jacket and yellow rain boots?”
Mrs. Kim’s eyes softened immediately, her expression one of concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. We haven’t seen her, but we’ll keep an eye out for her.” She turned to you for confirmation, and you nodded, already scanning the area.
“Thank you, thank you,” she said, though her gaze was already shifting, searching the busy street.
“I turned around for a second and the next thing I knew, she’s gone!”
“No, don’t blame yourself,” Mrs. Kim said gently, her voice steady and soothing. “Children are naturally curious. Let’s focus on finding her now. Have you called the authorities?”
The woman nodded quickly, her hands trembling as she fumbled to show a picture of her daughter on her phone.
“Yes. This is her,” she said, holding her phone out for you to see.
Pictured was a bright-eyed little girl, with round cheeks, grinning widely as she clutched a stuffed rabbit nearly as big as she was.
“Where did you last see her?” you asked, already forming a mental map of the area.
“Just over there,” the woman said, her hand shaking as she pointed toward the park entrance.
“We were sitting by the benches under the oak tree, and I turned to grab her water bottle from my bag…” Her voice wavered, and she paused, her breaths growing shallow and erratic as the memory clearly consumed her.
“It’s okay,” you interjected gently, your tone steady and reassuring. You leaned in slightly, meeting her panicked gaze.
“You’ve done the right thing by calling for help. We’ll keep an eye out for her and report anything we find to the authorities.”
The woman nodded shakily, clutching her phone as if it were a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her fear.
You gave her a reassuring smile, though the heaviness in your chest lingered.
With a quick nod, you and Mrs. Kim turned to make your way toward the park, leaving Yena’s mother behind to continue her frantic search.
“How unfortunate,” Mrs. Kim sighed after a moment, breaking the silence. She shook her head, her expression clouded with sympathy.
“I can’t imagine what that woman is going through. Losing sight of your child, even for a second...it’s a nightmare no parent should ever have to endure.”
Mingi gave a small huff, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. His steps quickened slightly, and you had to tighten your grip on the leash to keep him from pulling too far ahead.
She’s around here somewhere, his instincts told him as he sniffed the air again. Something about the situation—the mother’s panic and the child’s vulnerability, tugged at a deep place in his heart. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know Yena, she was small, defenseless, and alone. That was enough for Mingi to feel protective.
He remembered the times he’d been alone, in places where no one called his name or came looking for him. But Yena wouldn’t feel that loneliness, not if Mingi could help it. She needed someone, and he was determined to be that someone.
Whatever loneliness he’d known in his own life, he wouldn’t let a lost little girl feel it. Not while he could do something about it.
Mingi sniffed the air again, his movements growing more urgent. His ears twitched, his muscles tensed, and his posture shifted, radiating a focused energy that caught your attention. You noticed his change immediately, the way he stopped sniffing idly and started searching with intent.
“Maro?” Your grip on the leash tightened instinctively as he stepped forward, his nose brushing the ground before lifting to sniff the air again.
Mingi hesitated for a moment, his body rigid, as though confirming something only he could sense. Then, without warning, he surged forward, the leash pulling taut in your hands.
“Maro, wait!” you called, trying to hold him back, but his determination overpowered your grip. With a quick twist of his body, Mingi wriggled free of his harness. The loop fell to the ground with a soft thud, and in a flash, he was off.
“No!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest. You took off after him, your heart pounding as his barking grew louder, guiding you toward his destination.
He darted through the park, weaving between trees and darting past startled spectators, as though he were following a trail only he could detect. You struggled to keep up, adrenaline driving your steps as you sprinted after him.
"Go away!" Yena cried, her voice breaking as she snatched her arm away from the strange woman. Her wide, tear-filled eyes darted around the clearing, searching for an escape.
"I'm not a stranger," the woman said, her tone syrupy but strained, a smile tugging uncomfortably at the corners of her lips.
"I’m your mommy’s friend."
"My mommy said never to go with strangers!”
The woman crouched slightly, her smile tight and unnatural as her patience began to wear thin.
“I told you, I’m not a stranger,” she said, her voice growing sharper. Her eyes glinted with something cold as she glanced around the clearing.
“You’ll be in trouble if you don’t listen to me, little girl. Do you want that?”
Before the woman could reach for her again, furious barking erupted from the trees. Mingi charged into the clearing, positioning himself between the girl and the woman, his growls low and menacing.
“Shoo!” she snapped, waving her hand at him as though he were a mere nuisance. “Get out of here, you little pest!”
But Mingi didn’t flinch. His growls deepened, his stance lowering as if ready to lunge if she dared to come closer. His determination seemed to fill the air, daring her to make a move.
“A puppy!” Yena gasped, her tears momentarily forgotten as she crouched slightly behind him.
“Maro!” you called, your voice sharp. He turned briefly, his tail wagging slightly at the sound of your voice, but he quickly refocused on the woman, his growls resuming.
The woman’s gaze darted between you and the dog, her jaw tightening. For a fleeting moment, her eyes locked with yours, and recognition flashed in her expression—a flicker of something dark and calculated. Her lips curled into a sneer before she turned and bolted, disappearing into the trees with a speed that left you stunned.
Mingi barked after her once, but then turned his attention back to Yena. Rising onto his hind legs, he nudged her gently as if urging her to sit. Once she did, he hopped into her lap without hesitation, his warm, furry body pressing against hers like a shield.
Yena gasped softly at the contact, her small hands instinctively clutching at his soft fur. She buried her fingers into his coat, the warmth and comfort he provided allowing her sobs to finally break free.
“Oh my god, Yena!” you gasped, dropping to your knees beside her. Your hands hovered for a moment, unsure whether to touch her or give her space. “Are you okay?”
Yena peeked up at you, her tear-streaked face still pressed against Mingi’s side.
“The bad lady’s gone?” she whispered, her voice fragile.
“She’s gone,” you assured her. You reached out, brushing a strand of her disheveled hair away from her face.
“Maro made sure of it. He scared her away.”
“He’s a good puppy,” she murmured shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers stroked his back, and though her movements were timid, they carried a quiet gratitude.
Your hands fumbled for your phone, the adrenaline making your fingers clumsy. You swiped at the screen, barely managing to bring up Mrs. Kim’s number. Pressing the call button, you held the phone to your ear, your eyes scanning the tree line as if to ensure the woman wouldn’t reappear.
The phone rang once, then twice, before Mrs. Kim’s voice came through, steady but laced with worry.
“Did you find her?” she asked, her words hurried.
“Yes,” you said quickly, glancing down at Yena, who was still clutching Maro. “She’s here. She’s safe, but…” You hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing.
“Call the cops. I’ll stay here with her until they arrive.”
⋆
The faint sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, and when you glanced toward the path, you saw Mrs. Kim, Yena’s mother, and two officers running toward you.
“Yena!” she called, her voice cracking as she rushed forward.
“Mommy!” Yena cried, scrambling to her feet, still clutching Mingi. She stumbled toward her mother, who dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her daughter tightly. Yena buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if—” Her voice broke, and she hugged Yena even tighter.
“I don’t know how I can ever repay you!” she continued.
You shook your head gently, offering her a warm, reassuring smile. “There’s no need,” you said, your voice calm but earnest. “I’m just glad I was here to help. That’s all that matters.”
Mingi barked softly, as if echoing your sentiments. His tail wagged as he sat back at your feet, looking every bit the proud protector he was. Yena pulled back slightly from her mother’s embrace, wiping at her eyes with one hand while the other reached down to pet Mingi.
“The puppy saved me,” she said softly, her voice still shaky but filled with awe. “He scared the bad lady away.”
You crouched down to Mingi’s level, scratching behind his ears. “He’s the real hero here,” you said, glancing up at Mrs. Kim with a small smile.
“He knew something was wrong before I did.”
Mingi let out a happy huff, rolling onto his back to expose his belly, practically inviting Yena to join in the celebration. The little girl giggled through her tears, her small hands eagerly scratching his side.
Yena’s mother knelt beside her, her trembling hand reaching out hesitantly. Her fingers brushed over Mingi’s soft fur, and her lips quivered with emotion.
“Thank you,” she whispered again, her voice cracking as she looked back at Yena. “Thank you both.”
“Ms…?” one of the officers interrupted gently, his notebook in hand.
“Choi,” you said, standing to face him. “Um, I’m Choi Y/N.”
“Do you mind providing a witness statement?”
“Of course,” you replied, taking a steadying breath. “I was walking my dog when I saw a woman with Yena,” you began.
“The woman claimed she was a friend of the mother, but something about her seemed…off. She got increasingly aggressive when Yena didn’t cooperate.”
The officer nodded, scribbling rapidly in his notepad. “Can you describe the woman?”
“She looked like she was her forties,” you said, replaying the scene in your mind. “Dark hair, pulled back tightly. She was wearing a black jacket and purple pants and seemed disheveled. When I caught up to Maro, she froze like a deer in the headlights and bolted into the trees.”
“Did you see which direction she ran?”
You nodded, pointing toward the dense tree line a few yards away. “That way. She moved fast, like she knew exactly where she was going.”
The officer glanced in the direction you indicated, then back at his notes with a heavy sigh.
“We’ll search the area and alert nearby units to be on the lookout for someone matching her description. In the meantime, thank you for stepping in. Your dog’s instincts likely saved this little girl.”
As the officers wrapped up their investigation, you crouched down one last time to Yena’s level. Her wide eyes were still a little red from crying, but there was a sparkle of hope in them now.
“You were so brave today. And you know what? Maro thinks you’re a hero, too.”
Yena’s lips curled into a shy smile as she reached out to pet his head. He leaned into her touch, his tail wagging lazily.
“Can I play with him again sometime?”
“Anytime,” you promised. “You just let your mom know, and we’ll make it happen.”
With a final wave, you gave Mrs. Kim a quick hug, murmuring your thanks before sheepishly retrieving the sheet music you had almost forgotten. Clutching it tightly, you turned to leave, Mingi falling into step beside you.
The walk home was quieter now, the crisp night air carrying the faint rustle of leaves. Mingi trotted happily at your side, his leash loose, as if he understood the weight of the moment but chose not to linger on it. Instead, his steady presence offered you a quiet comfort, grounding you in the stillness of the night.
When you reached the penthouse, you slipped off your shoes, hung up Mingi’s leash, and set the sheet music on the music shelf.
“Well, today was something else,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck as you flopped onto the couch.
Before you could settle in, Mingi hopped up beside you, his fluffy tail wagging in a lazy rhythm. Without hesitation, he settled into your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
You chuckled softly, your fingers finding their way behind his ears, scratching gently in a spot you knew he loved.
“We make a pretty great team, huh?”
You leaned back into the cushions, your hand slipping from behind his ears to run through the soft fur along his back. Each stroke seemed to soothe not just him, but you as well.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” you murmured after a moment, your voice quieter now.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Mingi shifted slightly, resting his head against your chest as his eyes fluttered shut, lulled by the rhythm of your heartbeat. Accepting this new form hadn’t been easy; it challenged everything he thought he knew about himself.
But moments like this, with your hand threading gently through his fur and your voice brimming with affection, chipped away at his doubts. The walls he had so carefully constructed around his heart crumbled, leaving him exposed to a truth he could no longer deny: the feelings growing within him, his feelings for you.
Mingi surrendered to the quiet realization that he no longer wanted to run from you or from the parts of himself he couldn’t face. You had shown him something he thought he’d lost; a capacity for care, compassion, and even love.
And he wanted to show you that could become something more.
But his peace was short-lived as your phone blared to life, interrupting his nap. Jiwoo’s name lit up the screen, and with a tired sigh, you swiped to answer, already bracing yourself for her shenanigans.
That annoying woman!
“Y/N!” Jiwoo’s voice was bright and full of excitement. “I’ve found it. The place. It’s in Prague, and it’s everything you’ve been looking for—charming, historic, and in a perfect location!”
“Prague is a little far, don’t you think?”
“Exactly!” Jiwoo exclaimed, as if you’d just proved her point. “Far enough to get away from all these assholes!”
You chuckled softly, your fingers absentmindedly carding through Maro’s fur. He stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh as he snuggled deeper against your chest. Jiwoo’s energy was infectious, even when you weren’t entirely on board with her ideas.
“Speaking of assholes,” she said, her tone dropping, “have you heard about Ahri?”
Your stomach dropped at the mention of her name. “What about her?”
“So,” she started, drawing out the word, “Sara saw her the other night at The Z. And she wasn’t alone. She was looking way too cozy with that model guy. What’s his name? Mingyu or something. It’s kind of creepy that he and Mingi have similar sounding names.”
Mingi’s relationship with Ahri had always been a sore spot, a constant reminder that you had no place in his life. But hearing this made you feel something you couldn’t quite place—vindicated? Sad? Angry? Maybe all three.
“And get this—when Sara asked her about Mingi, she brushed it off. Like she wasn’t walking around a few weeks ago looking pretty banged up herself. I mean, can you believe it? While he’s in a coma?”
“Their relationship doesn’t concern me,” you replied, but your words felt hollow.
“Not your business?” Jiwoo scoffed. “It’s disgusting, Y/N. I know you and Mingi have a complicated relationship–I get it. but he doesn’t deserve that. No one does. She’s out here living her best life while he’s fighting for his.”
Her outrage echoed your own feelings, but instead of comfort, it only heightened the discomfort twisting in your chest. Each mention of Ahri reminded you that this moment, where you were pouring your heart into caring for him, staying by his side when no one else would, was nothing more than a spell cast by some higher being.
Once the spell was broken, you'd return to your separate lives despite being bound to one another.
“Anyway,” Jiwoo said, sensing your silence, “that’s just more reason to take the leap. Leave all this drama behind and protect your peace. Start over. You might actually find love too!”
You let out a dry laugh, though it wasn’t the least bit genuine. “Yeah, right. Love.”
The words tasted bitter on your tongue, and the thought of it, of someone loving you in the way you needed, in the way you’d always hoped felt almost impossible.
“I mean, if Czech men aren’t your thing, I know Park Seong—”
“My food’s here, bye!” you blurted out abruptly, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence.
You rested your head back against the couch and closed your eyes for a moment, shifting Maro against you, his small body fitting so easily into the curve of your side.
Who needs husbands when you have a dog? You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maro, with his unwavering loyalty and comforting little form, was all you needed right now. He didn’t ask anything of you—just your love and care in return. A love that came without expectations, without demands for answers or explanations.
With him, you could simply be.
Outside the towering penthouse, a figure lingered in the shadows, her frail frame swallowed by a dark jacket. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, knuckles stark white, and her shoulders trembled with each shallow, uneven breath. Then, without a sound, she slipped into the darkness, leaving no trace behind.
But the chill that lingered in the air suggested she wouldn’t be gone for long.
<< iii | v >>
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𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 200 𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘺!
𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Comforting You After You Have A Rough Week - @mingoooossii ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Bf!Ateez Texts - @littlexbunni bf!ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Bsf!Ateez & Ur Crush On Another Member - @bombuni best friend!ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Baby, I'm Jealous [Part One] [Part Two] - @bunny-hwa idol!woosan x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Benefits - @shinestarhwaa idol!san x staff!reader x idol!seonghwa (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Bleach - @jonghoex bf!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Blood In The Clouds - @callmeagardengnome mafia leader!hongjoong x flight attendant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Bunny Love - @i-like-loserz idol!hongjoong x bunny hybrid!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Christmas Cookies - @dancinglikebutterflywings dad!hongjoong x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 Descent - @crimsonbubble rockstar!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 In Sickness And In Health - @makeitmingi bf!idol!seonghwa x doctor!gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Kindergarten!Ateez - @rosy-wooyoung non-idol!seonghwa x kindergarten teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Little Soul - @jjoongstar grim reaper!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Midnight Song - @doitforbangchan siren!seonghwa x pirate!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Page Me - @hwaightme bf!paediatrician!seonghwa x gn!neurosurgeon!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Chess Not Checkers - @bibittybopittybadbxtch idol!yunho x hongjoong’s sister!reader 𓆞 𓆞 Dinner And Dessert - @hongjoongtime117 bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Doll - @pirateprincessblog idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 English Affair - @weinq idol!yunho x fan!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Every Season After - @iannmin childhood best friend!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Make It Bouncy - @shinestarism bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Mix And Match - @xuchiya non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Switch - @sxdisteez bf!idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Winter Wonderland - @emeraldelysian best friend!idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Untitled - @323cutie bf!yeosang x reader (imagine) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Eyes On You - @nczennie bf!san x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Husband Activities - @bambikisss husband!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Saturn [Part One] [Part Two] - @pyramid-of-starrs ex-situationship!san x reader x fiance!maddox (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Sleepy Adoration - @solaris-amethyst bf!san x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Fault In Our Stars - @koyagifs non-idol!san x nurse!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [5:45] - @songmingisthighs bf!mingi x gf!reader(timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Casual - @preciousjoongie non-idol!mingi x heartbroken!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Screw You! - @lemon-woos best friend!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stare - @sweetiesicheng husband!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 When Mingi Leaves For Tour - @makeitmingi idol!mingi x gf!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Finals Day Jitters - @strawbshrtcks bf!wooyoung gn!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Home For The Holidays - @highvern ex-bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 I Wish You Roses - @daemour non-idol!wooyoung x florist!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Love On The Street - @seobinghard best friend!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Muse - @joongieology artist!bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 First Christmas - @prettygirl-gabi bf!idol!jongho x gf!non-idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Playing Your Hand - @zeroseuniverse non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Warm On A Cold Night - @riboism professor!jongho x student!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 When I Fall [Part One] [Part Two] - @xomakara non-idol!jongho x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @domm1etae bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼
𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Hey, are you busy right now? - @skrrts ot8 x reader (drabble series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Home Is - @skrrts hyung line x reader (one-shot series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 How They Fell For You - @atzloverr yandere!ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓆞 If Something Chases You, Run - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Innocent Touch - @yeopoet hyung line x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Heart Art & Rain - @skrrts non-idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Helping Hand - @mulloey producer!hongjoong x singer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Highway to Cloud Nine - @orshii biker!non-idol!hongjoong x mechanic!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hongjoong Spending That Song Writing Money On You - @m1ngkis bf!idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hongjoong Relieving Some Stress For You - @m1ngkis bf!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Mommy Issues - @smuttaburger bf!idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Open Wide | Swallow - @hausofwoo bartender!seonghwa x server!reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Piece By Piece - @emeraldelysian bf!seonghwa x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Prefects And T(h)reats - @pirateprincessblog slytherin!seonghwa x hufflepuff!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 She'll Chew You Up - @h4untedgrl non-idol!seonghwa x maneater!reader (one-shot) 𓆞
𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 This Might be Love - @03jyh23 non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy | Horses Are Still Overrated - @yunhoszn cowboy!yunho x city girl!reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Sober - @beenbaanbuun bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Sugar - @mingoooossii bf!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Bus At 11:17 | The Date At 11:17 - @skrrts non-idol!yunho x reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Duality - @naybii bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 La Douleur Exquise - @ja3hwa ghost!yeosang x witch!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 My Doll - @h4untedgrl bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 What’s Your Favorite Movie? - @tinybeetiny ghostface!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Took Me To The Stars - @shixcherie theater actor!yeosang theater actress!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Little Shop On 8th Street - @jeonginslefthand flower shop owner!san x reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Love Beyond Barriers - @catsannie non-idol!san x reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 My Angel - @seongsangssbitch military general!san x goddess!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 PTA Parent - @pyramid-of-starrs dad!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Safe Habor - @cocobeanncteez attorney!san x ceo!reader (one-shot) 𓆞
𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Rings of Temptation - @crimsonbubble bf!mingi x reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Six Foot Savior - @smuttaburger non-idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Then, Now, And Always! - @alxtiny idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Princess Treatment Chronicles! | The Return Of The Princess Treatment Chronicles?! - @yuyusuyu best friend!non-idol!mingi x non-idol!reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Under The Sheets - @k-hotchoisan bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞
𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 I'm Not Getting It. - @darlingsaybonvoyage best friend!wooyoung x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Miles Across - @callmeagardengnome idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Only Mine, My Darling - @tinyidle non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Secrets And Stars - @maltesejjong fiancé!non-idol!wooyoung x reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stay Back, I Bite - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!wooyoung x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Random Bf!Ateez Texts - @hwamphwamp bf!jongho x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Untitled - @bombuni bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓆞 Very Demure - @pyramid-of-starrs bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Warm - @beenbaanbuun bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Zemblanity - @in-san-ity mafia!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞
YOU READY TO GET FUCKING SUED
BRO DANN GROW A BACKBONE I SWEAR YOU KEEP PISSING ME OFF
Popular, Boy
☆14: The first confession.
Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader
Genre: +18, smut, slow burn, angst, drama, dark romance, love triangle.
wc: 8,7k
Summary: While some battles are fought with fists, others are waged behind closed doors, where power, reputation, and control mean everything.
And when innocence is placed at the center of the storm, the lines between family and enemy blur.
Warnings: Cursing, physical violence, power dynamics, fluff.
an: We are almost at the end of the series!! I hope you enjoy the last chapters coming soon♡
Series masterlist Join the Taglist
☆13 ☆15: The first checkmate. Coming soon.
The waiting room smells like antiseptic and paperwork, a sterile combination that makes your stomach churn.
You tap your nails against your thigh, gaze locked on the reception desk as if willing the nurse to call your name faster.
Hongjoong sits beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee, a silent anchor. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t tell you to calm down, but his presence alone is enough to keep you grounded.
It’s been a week. A long, exhausting week of waiting. And now, it’s finally time. A nurse steps out from behind the desk, a folder in her hands.
“Miss Clarke?”
You stand immediately, legs tense, heart hammering. He follows suit, his hand finding yours, lacing his fingers through yours without hesitation.
The nurse hands you the folder with a professional smile, oblivious to the weight of what she’s just given you.
“Here are the results. Let us know if you need anything else.”
You nod stiffly, clutching the envelope as if it might slip through your fingers and disappear. Neither of you says a word as you leave the hospital.
Not even when you slide into Hongjoong’s car.
Not even when you place the envelope on your lap, staring at your name printed neatly on the front.
The tension is suffocating.
He glances at you before reaching over, his fingers brushing against your wrist.
“Pretty,” He murmurs, soft but firm. “Do you want me to open it?”
You inhale sharply, then shake your head “No.”
With careful movements, you break the seal and pull out the papers. Your eyes skim the words—test subject, percentage, confirmation—until you find it.
99.9% probability of paternity.
Your fingers tighten around the edges of the document, your breath catching.
There it is.
Proof.
The proof you needed to finally rip Mike’s perfect image to shreds.
Hongjoong watches you carefully, his free hand still resting over yours “It’s real,” He says, like he already knows. Like he never had a doubt.
You nod, throat tight “It’s real.”
For a few moments, you let yourself sit in the weight of it.
Then, you exhale and fold the papers neatly, sliding them back into the envelope “Let’s go.”
✮ ⋆
Your room is dimly lit. You and Hongjoong sit on your bed, the envelope between you, a silent promise of what’s coming.
You tap the envelope once before speaking “Mike has a business trip in two days.”
Hongjoong leans back against the headboard, arms crossed “That’s when you’re telling them?”
“That’s when I’ll have the best chance,” You confirm. “If he’s here, he’ll find a way to twist everything. He’ll manipulate them, make himself the victim. I need them to see the truth without his interference.”
He nods, understanding “And you need me there.”
You look at him then, taking in the steady certainty in his eyes “I want you there,” You admit. “As a witness. As… as support.”
His gaze softens, and he reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently “I’ll be there, pretty.”
The words settle something deep inside you, a quiet reassurance that you won’t have to face this alone.
You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the storm outside mirror the one building inside your home.
In two days, everything would change.
And for the first time, you were ready for it.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Dann hesitates outside Mike’s study, her hands clammy as she wrings them together. She shouldn’t be here.
She doesn’t want to be here.
But she doesn’t have a choice. With a deep breath, she knocks. A sharp ‘Come in’ Follows almost immediately.
Dann swallows and steps inside. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and his signature cologne. He sits at his desk, fingers steepled, his gaze sharp as it lands on her.
She feels like prey.
“Well?” His voice is clipped, impatient. “What is it?”
Dann shifts uncomfortably, her nails digging into the skin of her palm “I… I overheard something.”
Mike raises an eyebrow, waiting.
“It’s about YN.”
That gets his attention. Mike’s entire body stiffens, his sharp gaze snapping toward Dann.
“What about her?” His voice is low, laced with something dangerous.
Dann forces herself to keep her composure, though the weight of his stare makes her stomach churn.
“She… she was on the phone with Hongjoong a couple of days ago,” She begins hesitantly. “I didn’t hear much, but I caught a name.”
He doesn’t react right away. He just watches. Waiting.
Dann swallows hard “Hannah.”
The sound of glass shattering against the wall makes her flinch violently.
Her breath catches as she watches whiskey drip down the bookshelf, the remnants of the crystal glass scattered across the polished wood floor.
Mike rises abruptly, his chair scraping against the ground, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his hands curl into fists. His entire body trembles with barely contained rage.
“What did you just say?” His voice is dangerously low.
Dann forces the words out, her pulse hammering “I–I heard her say they should go with Hannah. And then she left with Hongjoong. I don’t know where they went, but—”
His palm slams down onto the desk with a force that rattles the papers on top of it. Dann jumps, her entire body locking up.
“You’re sure?” His voice is tight, seething.
She nods frantically “Yes. She said it clearly.”
Mike’s breathing turns ragged, his chest rising and falling too fast. The room is heavy with his fury, suffocating.
That bitch.
He told Hannah to disappear. He made sure of it. There was no way you could have been in contact with her.
Unless…
His stomach twists with something unfamiliar—something dangerously close to dread.
What if Hannah never left?
What if—
His fingers dig into the desk as he exhales sharply, forcing himself to think. His thoughts are spiraling, unraveling, but one thing is certain.
He needs answers. Now.
Slowly, he turns to Dann, his expression unreadable, voice cold and deliberate.
“Don’t mention this to anyone.”
Dann nods quickly, stepping back toward the door. She doesn’t need to be told twice. But before she can escape, his voice slices through the air again.
“She’s here, isn’t she?” His tone is eerily calm, but the way his chest rises and falls betrays his barely leashed fury.
Dann hesitates, a chill running down her spine. She already knows where this is going. And once again… it’s her fault.
“I… I don’t know,” She whispers.
But he’s already moving.
Without another word, Mike practically bolts from the room, his footsteps heavy with purpose.
Dann stands frozen for a second, her pulse roaring in her ears.
Then, without thinking, she rushes after him.
If she can stop him from hurting you again… maybe, just maybe, she can lessen the guilt threatening to drown her.
✮ ⋆
The moment the bedroom door slams open, you barely have time to react before Mike storms inside.
Hongjoong stiffens beside you, his entire body going rigid as he instinctively moves closer. Dann lingers by the doorway, frozen in place.
But the older one doesn't look at them. He doesn’t even acknowledge their presence. His furious gaze is locked solely on you.
“What the fuck are you playing at?” His voice is low, dangerously quiet—but you know better than to mistake it for restraint.
You raise an eyebrow, keeping your expression indifferent even as your heart pounds.
“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mike. I play a lot of things.”
His jaw ticks. His hands curl into fists at his sides.
“I’m not in the mood for your stupid games,” He spits. “You were with her.”
You blink, feigning confusion “With who?”
His hand moves so fast you barely see it.
The force of the slap sends your head snapping to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. The taste of blood blooms on your tongue.
Hongjoong moves before you can even react. He shoves Mike back, hard enough that he stumbles a step.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” His voice is sharp, furious, his breathing ragged with anger.
But Mike barely even looks at him. Instead, he straightens, smoothing out the front of his shirt like he isn’t the least bit fazed.
Then, he steps forward again, crowding you, towering over you like a storm ready to break. You lift your chin defiantly, refusing to cower.
“Where is she?” His voice is a low growl. “Where the fuck is Hannah?”
You tilt your head, licking the cut on your lip before giving him the most infuriatingly nonchalant smile you can muster.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His eyes darken “Don’t fucking lie to me, YN.”
“Lie to you?” You scoff. “Please. If there’s anyone who’s an expert in lying, it’s you.”
Another step forward. Another inch of space stolen.
Hongjoong moves again, stepping between you and Mike this time, his stance firm, protective.
“Back. The fuck. Off.” His voice is steady, but his hands are clenched into fists, his entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap.
Mike glares at him, as if just now registering his existence.
“And what the hell are you going to do about it, nerd?”
Hongjoong doesn’t flinch “Try me and find out.”
There’s a heavy pause. The air crackles with tension.
And then… Mike smirks.
It’s slow, cold, calculated.
“Cute,” He mutters, voice dripping with condescension. “She’s really got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?”
Hongjoong doesn’t respond, doesn’t rise to the bait. But you see it—the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his jaw tightens.
And then, there’s Dann.
Standing by the doorway, silent, watching.
She does nothing, says nothing.
Just like before.
And something inside you snaps. You inhale sharply, the pain in your cheek already numbing beneath the flood of anger boiling in your veins.
“I don’t have time for your theatrics, Michael,” You say, your voice eerily calm. “So unless you have anything useful to say, get the fuck out of my room.”
Mike tilts his head, his smirk widening “You’re awfully confident for someone who still flinches when I raise my hand.”
You don’t flinch this time. Instead, you step around Hongjoong, closing the distance between you and him in a deliberate, defiant move.
“You should be careful,” You whisper, eyes locking onto his. “Because one day, you’re going to raise your hand at the wrong person.”
Mike doesn’t reply, he just looks at you. And in that moment, something shifts.
A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even a sliver of doubt, crosses his expression—so brief you might have imagined it.
Then, just as quickly, it’s gone.
He scoffs, rolling his shoulders before stepping back “This isn’t over,” He mutters.
You smile, sickly sweet “Oh, I know.”
With that, he turns sharply on his heel and strides out of the room, the door slamming behind him.
Silence.
Hongjoong exhales, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down.
Dann?
Still standing there.
Still watching.
She looks like she’s just seen a ghost—pale, eyes wide, shoulders drawn tight. Guilt hangs off her like a second skin, but you don’t give a fuck.
You exhale sharply, turning toward her with slow, deliberate movements.
“Why are you still here?” Your voice is flat, emotionless.
Dann swallows hard, her hands trembling as she grips the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.
“YN, I—”
Your patience snaps “Get the fuck out.” Dann flinches, shame flashing across her face. “Did I fucking stutter?” You step forward, eyes burning into hers. “Or do you need me to spell it out for you?”
She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just stands there, frozen in place, like she wants to say something—needs to—but she can’t.
Your fingers curl into fists “You stood there and did nothing. Again.” You shake your head, disgust curling in your stomach. “You are a fucking coward.”
Dann’s eyes glisten for a fraction of a second, but you don’t care.
You don’t fucking care.
She chose this.
She chose to side with Mike.
And now, she’s realizing it—realizing that no matter how much guilt is eating her alive, it doesn’t change the fact that she let him hurt you.
Again.
Hongjoong, still fuming, finally speaks “You heard her,” He says, voice low and cold. “Get out.”
Dann’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. Then, after a painfully long moment she nods. Her gaze drops to the floor as she turns on shaky legs and stumbles toward the door.
She hesitates when she reaches the threshold, gripping the handle so tight her knuckles turn white.
“I never meant for it to be like this,” She whispers, voice barely above a breath.
You don’t respond. She lingers for just another second—just long enough for you to see the full weight of her regret in her expression.
Then, she steps out, and the door clicks shut behind her.
Silence.
Finally, you exhale, your body collapsing on the bed.
Hongjoong’s already by your side, his hand gently cupping your face. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watching you with concern in his eyes.
You can feel the heat of his gaze, but it doesn’t comfort you—it only makes you more aware of the hurt still burning inside.
“Are you okay?” He murmurs softly, gently lifting your chin to inspect the cut on your lip.
His fingers are warm, his touch careful, and you bite down a wince when he brushes his thumb over your skin.
“I’m fine,” You mutter, your voice still hoarse from the shouting and the silence that follows.
He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he exhales sharply, shaking his head before standing up.
“Stay here,” He says firmly.
You watch as he disappears into your private bathroom, the sound of cabinets opening and closing filling the quiet room. Moments later, he returns with a small first-aid kit in his hands.
He kneels in front of you, placing the kit on the bed as he pulls out antiseptic and some cotton.
“This is going to sting,” He warns, soaking the cotton pad with the antiseptic before pressing it gently against your split lip.
You flinch, a sharp hiss escaping your lips “No shit, Sherlock.”
He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head but continuing his task with steady hands.
“You and your damn mouth,” He mutters, his tone affectionate despite his frustration.
You roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice soothes something inside you. He finishes dabbing at the wound, then carefully applies a bit of ointment with his fingertip, his touch unbearably soft.
When he’s done, he pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if making sure there aren’t any more hidden injuries. His fingers brush your jaw, lingering for a moment.
“YN…” His voice is quiet, serious.
You exhale, knowing what he’s going to say, knowing he wants you to be honest about what’s going on.
“I’m not going to let him get away with this, Hongjoong,” You say before he can speak, your voice firm despite the dull ache in your lip.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and if my parents try to cover for him, if they try to ignore the truth and protect him, I’ll sue him.”
His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t look shocked. Just… resolute. Like he’s been waiting for you to say this.
“I’ll sue him for physical violence,” You continue, your voice steady now. “For everything he’s done to me. And for abandoning his child. If my parents refuse to see the truth, then I’ll expose it all.” Your gaze hardens. “I won’t let him pretend like this never happened. I’ll go after him for everything.”
Hongjoong lets out a slow breath, then places his hand on yours, squeezing it gently.
“I’m with you, pretty. Whatever you need.” His words are quiet, but they hit you harder than you expected.
You smile, a little softer now, though the fire in your chest doesn’t fade.
“Thanks. I can’t do this alone. I need you, Joong. I need someone who actually cares.”
He leans in closer, brushing his lips against your forehead “I’m not going anywhere, pretty. You don’t have to worry about that.”
His words are like a balm to the raw, exposed parts of you that still burn from the events of the past week.
You lean into him, feeling a sense of calm wash over you, but the battle is far from over.
And you’ll fight it until the very end.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The sound of luggage wheels rolling across the marble floor echoes faintly from the main hall. The staff murmurs in hushed voices as they move about, ensuring everything is ready for Mike’s departure.
You remain in your room, not bothering to come downstairs to see him off. You have no reason to.
But of course, that doesn’t mean he’ll leave without seeing you first.
A sharp knock rattles your bedroom door. You don’t move, keeping your gaze fixed on your vanity mirror as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss across your lips.
The door swings open anyway.
“Still sleeping in?” His voice drips with condescension as he steps inside, hands tucked into his suit pockets. “What a waste of a morning.”
You meet his gaze in the mirror, your expression blank “Did I invite you in?”
Mike chuckles, slow and deliberate as he leans against your doorframe “Oh, don’t be like that, dear sister.” His tone is almost mocking. “I’m leaving for a few days. Thought I’d be nice and say goodbye.”
You finally turn in your chair, crossing your legs as you tilt your head.
“You? Nice?” A smirk plays on your lips. “That’s new.”
His expression darkens, but he keeps his composure “Just making sure you don’t get any… stupid ideas while I’m gone.”
Your smirk doesn’t fade “Stupid ideas?” You rest your chin on your palm. “Like what? Going out with Hongjoong? Or maybe—oh, I don’t know—breathing without your permission?”
His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer.
“You think you’re untouchable just because Mom and Dad tolerate your little tantrums. But don’t forget, YN,” He leans down slightly, lowering his voice, “I always know what you’re up to.”
You hold his gaze, unfazed. If he’s trying to intimidate you, he’s wasting his time.
“Oh, please.” You scoff, standing up to face him properly. “If you really knew everything, you’d be a lot more pissed off right now.”
For a fraction of a second, something flickers in his eyes—uncertainty.
You smile sweetly, brushing past him toward your closet as if he’s nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing around your space.
“Have fun on your little trip, big brother.” You throw the words over your shoulder, voice dripping with fake politeness. “Try not to ruin anyone’s life while you’re gone.”
Mike’s silence lingers a second too long before he finally exhales sharply.
“We’ll see, little sister.”
And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.
The moment the door clicks shut, you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
He knows nothing.
But soon? He will.
And you can’t wait to watch his world burn.
✮ ⋆
“He’ll be gone for four days, so the dinner has to be tomorrow night,” You tell Hannah over the phone, pacing your room.
“Are you sure this is going to work?” Doubt laces her voice. “Your parents always side with him… I don’t think this time will be any different.”
You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temples.
“I’m not gonna lie… I don’t expect some big revelation, but maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough to make them see him for who he really is.” Your eyes drift to the stack of photos on your desk. “I already printed some pictures of Lily and me together. She looks adorable.”
Hannah chuckles “Of course she does, she’s my daughter.”
You scoff “Thank God she got your genes and not Mike’s.”
She laughs “Alright, little lady. Good luck tomorrow night. Don’t forget to update me after.”
“Don’t worry, I will. Bye, Hannah.”
Ending the call, you immediately dial Hongjoong. He picks up after a few rings.
“Hey, pretty.”
“Hey, nerd.”
“What’s up?”
“Tomorrow night, I’m telling my parents about Lily.”
A beat of silence. Then, “Okay. What time should I be there?”
“Seven.”
“Got it. I’ll be there.”
With that settled, you head downstairs, finding your parents in the lounge. Your mother is sipping wine, your father reading something on his tablet.
“I was thinking,” You begin smoothly, “We should have a formal family dinner tomorrow. Something nice… and Hongjoong should join us.”
Your mother lights up instantly “Oh, I love that idea! I’ll have the chefs prepare something special.”
Your father hums in agreement, setting his tablet down “Actually, that works well. We have something important to discuss with you tomorrow night.”
Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral.
“Oh? That’s funny. I have something important to tell you too.”
Your mother claps her hands together, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath your words.
“Perfect! Tomorrow will be a lovely evening.”
If only she knew.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The next evening, the mansion is buzzing with activity. The dining room is set to perfection—polished silverware, crystal glasses, and candles flickering over the lavish spread of food.
The scent of gourmet dishes drifts through the air as house staff move efficiently, making sure everything is flawless for the ‘perfect’ family dinner.
Your mother walks past, admiring the setup with a pleased hum “This is wonderful,” She says, her red lips curving into a satisfied smile. “I want everything to be just right.”
You take a slow sip of wine, standing near the grand windows as you watch the evening sky darken. They have no idea what’s coming.
“Excited for dinner, sweetheart?” Your mother asks, adjusting one of the centerpiece arrangements.
You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes “Oh, very.”
As if on cue, the main doors creak open. You glance over your shoulder just as Hongjoong steps inside, guided by a staff member.
He looks effortlessly good—black slacks, a fitted button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms. His eyes find yours instantly, and a subtle smirk tugs at his lips.
“Hey, pretty.”
“Hey, nerd.”
Your mother claps her hands together, beaming “Hongjoong! I’m so happy you could join us.”
He nods politely “Thank you for having me, Catherine.”
She waves off the formality “Oh, come now, you’re practically family.”
If only she knew how ironic that statement really was.
Before anyone can say more, the deep voice of your father cuts in “Shall we sit?”
You share a quick glance with Hongjoong before following them to the table. The air feels thick with anticipation, a silent countdown ticking in your head.
Soon, your parents will know the truth about their golden son.
Soon, their perfect image of Mike will shatter.
And soon… everything will change.
—
The atmosphere at the table is warm—too warm. Beneath the golden glow of the chandelier, tension lingers like a quiet storm waiting to break.
The clinking of silverware and the occasional murmur of conversation fill the space, but the food on your plate might as well be dust.
Your mother is in an unusually cheerful mood, delighted by Hongjoong’s presence, while your father sips his wine, listening to the flow of conversation with a composed expression. It almost feels… normal.
But you know better.
And then, your father clears his throat, setting his glass down with deliberate care.
“So, darling,” He begins, his sharp gaze settling on you. “Your mother and I have something to discuss with you.”
You exchange a glance with Hongjoong, who subtly reaches under the table, his hand resting on your thigh—a quiet reassurance.
“Is that so?” You say smoothly, lifting your own glass to your lips. “What is it?”
Your mother beams, leaning in slightly “It’s about Mike.”
Of course it is.
Your father nods, his voice steady, authoritative “We’ve made a decision regarding his future. He’s being named the next CEO of Clarke Enterprises.”
Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass, but you keep your expression impassive.
“He’s been preparing for this role his entire life,” Your mother continues with pride. “This will secure not just his success, but the future of our entire family.”
You place your glass down carefully, tilting your head “You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”
Your father nods with satisfaction “It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”
Legacy. Always the fucking legacy.
Hongjoong’s grip on your thigh tightens, sensing the storm brewing inside you. But he doesn’t stop you.
You inhale slowly, your lips curling into something that almost resembles a smile.
“Well,” You say, voice deceptively light, “Since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”
Your mother raises an intrigued eyebrow “Oh?”
Your father watches you carefully, his patience thin but present. You sit up straighter, meeting their gazes dead-on.
“It’s about Mike,” You begin, pausing just long enough for anticipation to settle. “And his actual legacy.”
Your mother frowns slightly “What do you mean?”
Your smile sharpens “He already has a daughter.”
Silence.
Your mother blinks. Your father’s wine glass stills mid-air.
“What… did you just say?” Your father asks, his voice eerily calm.
You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as you deliver the next blow.
“Four years ago, Mike had an affair with one of our housemaids. Her name was Hannah—I’m sure you remember her.”
Your mother’s expression freezes, her posture stiffening. Your father’s jaw tightens, but you don’t stop.
“When she got pregnant, your perfect son threatened her,” You continue, voice unwavering. “He told her to get rid of the baby. He forced me to lie and frame her for stealing so she would be fired. He abandoned her. Abandoned his own child.”
Reaching into your bag, you pull out the neatly stacked documents and slide them across the table. Your nails tap against the top page.
“Here.” Your voice is sweet, almost mocking. “A DNA test. Pictures. Bank transactions of the money I have been sending her every month since he left her to fend for herself.”
Your mother’s face drains of color. Your father’s grip on his fork tightens so hard you hear the faint creak of metal.
You tilt your head slightly, watching their reactions with quiet satisfaction “And this is the man you want to give the entire empire to?”
Your mother’s lips part slightly, her manicured fingers reaching hesitantly for the photos. The first image is of Lily alone—her bright, round eyes, her tiny, perfect features. Then another, with you beside her, smiling softly as she clings to your arm.
Your father slowly sets his utensils down, his gaze dark “You’re lying.”
You lean back, crossing your arms “The proof is right in front of you.”
Your mother shakes her head, almost desperate now “No… no, this is—this is a mistake.”
Your father exhales sharply, rubbing his temple “Mike would never—”
“Oh, but he did,” You cut him off smoothly. “And you can either accept that, or continue pretending he’s some flawless heir.”
The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. And then—
“This… cannot get out.”
Your blood runs cold.
You stare at your father, waiting for him to correct himself. To say something that doesn’t make you want to burn this entire house down.
Your mother finally meets your gaze, her expression unreadable “Do you have any idea what this could do to our family? To his future?”
A hollow laugh escapes you “Oh, so that’s what you care about?”
Your father sighs, as if this is just some inconvenience “Mike is going to take over the company. If this scandal comes out, it will ruin everything.”
You feel like you’ve been slapped. Hongjoong tenses beside you, his jaw locked, his hand gripping your thigh in restraint.
Your mother softens her voice, like she’s trying to reason with you “YN, sweetie… we cannot let this get out. It’s not just about Mike—it’s about all of us.”
You inhale sharply, schooling your expression. You knew this would happen. You knew. And yet, their blatant dismissal still stings more than it should.
You exhale slowly.
“Fine,” You murmur, collecting the documents back into your bag. “I understand.”
Your mother lets out a breath of relief “Good—”
“But let me make one thing very clear,” You cut her off, standing up. “If you try to cover this up—if you refuse to acknowledge that little girl as his daughter—I will make sure everyone finds out.”
Your father’s eyes darken “You wouldn’t dare.”
You meet his stare, unflinching “Try me.”
And they know you mean it. They know.
The air is suffocating. Your mother swallows, glancing between you and your father, tension crackling in the room.
And then, your father speaks, his voice cold.
“Go to your room, YN.” You raise an eyebrow in defiance. “Now.” His voice is sharp, commanding.
Hongjoong rises to his feet immediately, his stance protective, standing just a few steps behind you. But you don’t move at first, locking eyes with your father, refusing to back down.
The silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment, before, without another word, you grab Hongjoong’s hand. Together, you leave the dining room, the weight of the situation settling around you.
Once you step into the hallway, Hongjoong gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his voice quiet.
“YN…”
You shake your head, cutting him off “Not now.”
You make your way to your bedroom, and once inside, you immediately release his hand.
You walk straight to your vanity, placing the folder with the DNA test results and photos down onto the surface with precise movements, the sound of the paper rustling loud in the otherwise quiet room.
Your fingers grip the edges of the folder, your nails digging into the expensive paper as your mind races. The frustration is building up inside you, but you force yourself to breathe through it.
Hongjoong watches you carefully, the door clicking shut behind him. He stays silent for a moment, giving you space to process. He knows you need it.
Finally, he speaks softly, his voice filled with concern “Are you okay?”
You exhale sharply, turning to face him “I told you they’d cover it up,” You murmur, your voice quiet and bitter.
He steps closer, his eyes searching your face for any hint of vulnerability “Yeah... but you were still hoping, weren’t you?”
Your lips press into a thin line. Damn him for knowing you so well. You look away, arms crossed, leaning against the vanity as frustration bubbles up in you.
“I just wanted them to see him for what he really is,” You admit quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “To finally see that he’s not perfect.”
Hongjoong moves between your legs, his hands resting gently on your thighs.
“They’re too deep in their delusions, pretty. You can’t change them overnight.”
You exhale sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.
“Then I’ll make them see it,” You say, a fierce determination in your voice.
His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his gaze narrowing as he looks at you.
“How?”
“I’ll bring Lily tomorrow.” You shrug, as if the plan is simple, innocent.
He frowns, his brow furrowing “Wait—what? I don't think Hannah will agree to that.”
You look at him, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your lips.
“Maybe not, but this might pressure them into acknowledging her. They know she exists now, and there’s no reason to hide her anymore. I’ll tell them I want to spend time with her, show her the house. It's innocent.”
Hongjoong scoffs, a teasing glint in his eyes “Pretty, you and ‘innocent’ don’t belong in the same sentence.”
You grin, giving him a wink “Okay, maybe not. But still, it’s a good plan. They’ll have to deal with it when she’s right there in front of them.”
He exhales, running a hand through his hair, the lines of concern still etched on his face.
“And what if they freak out?”
“They won’t. They might struggle with it, but they won’t just throw her out. She’s their granddaughter, whether they like it or not.”
He studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. He shakes his head with a soft laugh.
“You’re scary when you plot, you know that?”
You smile slyly, cupping his cheek “I know. So... are you in?”
He sighs dramatically, though there’s no hiding the affection in his eyes.
“Like I have a choice.”
You laugh, leaning in to kiss him lightly “Nope. You don’t.”
With that, Hongjoong presses his lips to yours in a deep kiss, sealing the deal for the next move.
And just like that, the plan is set.
✮ ⋆
The hallway outside the dining room is dimly lit, the hushed murmur of voices bleeding through the heavy oak doors.
Dann stands just beyond the threshold, fingers curling around the strap of her bag. She hadn’t meant to stop. Hadn’t meant to listen.
But your voice—sharp, angry—had frozen her in place.
“You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”
“It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”
Dann’s breath catches. Her fingers twitch.
“Well, since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”
Dann’s throat tightens. She’s heard this kind of bitterness from you before, but never like this.
Never so raw.
“It’s about Mike, and his actual legacy.”
His actual legacy? What are you talking about?
She knows you have every reason to be upset. But Mike had warned her—had threatened her. And yet, something in her gut twists. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be listening to this.
She turns to leave, forcing herself to step away, but then—
“Dann!”
She flinches at the sound of her mother’s voice echoing from down the hall.
Shit.
Scrambling, she ducks into a side corridor before hurrying toward the kitchen. Her pulse pounds in her ears, your words still looping in her mind.
You were furious about Mike becoming CEO.
Dann hesitates, fingers hovering over her phone. For a brief moment, she considers doing nothing. She considers keeping this to herself.
But then she remembers Mike’s cold voice in her ear. Her stomach clenches as she finally types out the message.
Dann: YN’s pissed about you becoming CEO. She’s planning something.
She stares at the text, her finger hovering over the send button. A part of her screams Don’t do this. But another part knows…
If she doesn’t, she’ll be the next one to suffer.
Her thumb presses down.
Sent.
Her heart pounds as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket.
And as she heads toward the kitchen, trying to steady her breath, one thought keeps echoing in her mind.
How much longer can I keep doing this?
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The gentle hum of the car engine fades as Hongjoong parks in front of the grand estate. You glance over your shoulder at Lily, who’s kicking her legs excitedly in her car seat, her wide eyes shining with curiosity.
“Alright, princess. Ready to see where I live?”
It took some convincing to get Hannah on board with bringing Lily along today, but after much persuasion, she finally agreed—though not without a threat.
If anything were to happen to her daughter, she told you, she’d make you wish you never stepped foot near her.
Lily gasps dramatically, clapping her hands “Like a castle?”
Hongjoong snorts “Close enough.”
You smirk, unbuckling her seatbelt before lifting her into your arms “Exactly like a castle. With grumpy old kings and queens inside.”
Hongjoong chuckles but gives you a look “Pretty.”
You just wink at him before turning toward the front doors. As you step inside, the staff immediately notices your little guest.
A few maids exchange surprised glances, but none dare to say anything. Then, your mother’s voice floats from the dining hall.
“YN? Darling, is that you?”
Showtime.
You adjust Lily on your hip and strut into the hall, Hongjoong right beside you. Your mother and father are already seated at the table, sipping tea like they own the world.
But the second they see her, your mother’s teacup stops midair. Your father straightens.
“Mother, Father,” You say with a polite smile, shifting Lily in your arms, “I wanted to introduce you to someone properly.”
Lily, bless her little heart, waves excitedly “Hi, I’m Lily!”
Your mother blinks “Oh… oh my.”
Your father’s jaw tightens, but he stays silent. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets, watching carefully.
“Since you know about her now, I figured there’s no need to keep her hidden,” You continue smoothly, placing Lily down so she can run toward the grand windows. “She’s family, after all.”
The air in the room is suffocating.
Your mother glances at your father “Well, I—” She stops when Lily gasps.
“This place is so big!” The little girl spins in excitement, her curls bouncing. “I wanna see all of it!”
Your mother’s lips part, struggling, fighting every instinct she has. She glances at your father again, who is rubbing his temple.
Hongjoong nudges you slightly, whispering, “Your dad looks like he’s about to explode.”
You grin “I know.”
Your mother clears her throat, standing up “Lily, dear, would you like something to drink?”
Lily beams “Do you have chocolate milk?”
Your mother hesitates, then nods slowly “Yes… of course.”
You exchange a glance with Hongjoong.
Oh, this is too good.
Meanwhile, your father finally speaks, his voice even “And how long do you plan to keep her here, YN?”
You feign innocence “Just for a few hours. She should get to know where her family comes from.”
Your father sighs, rubbing his temple again. He looks like he wants to object—but what can he say? Get that child out of my house? Even he knows that would make him look bad.
And that’s when you realize—your parents are nervous. They don’t want to acknowledge her. They don’t want to accept her.
But ignoring her is impossible.
And the best part?
Mike still has no idea.
Your father exhales sharply, sitting up straighter. His voice drops into something colder, firmer.
“Darling, listen carefully.” His gaze is heavy, commanding. “Your brother will be back tomorrow.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He can not see this girl here.”
You let out a dry laugh “Why not? it's his daughter.”
Your mother nods, forcing a smile “Yes, sweetheart. But it's illegitimate.”
Your father’s expression hardens “That means you will not, under any circumstances, mention the girl’s existence.”
A heavy silence fills the room.
Lily, still holding her glass of chocolate milk, glances up at her grandmother with wide, innocent eyes. Then, in the softest voice, she speaks.
“Daddy don’t want to meet me?” Her small voice cracks slightly as she pouts, her lip trembling.
She sets the glass down and looks at them, her eyes filling with tears as she struggles to understand why the adults are acting this way. The sadness in her expression is enough to make your heart ache.
The room grows painfully quiet. You see the subtle shift in your parents’ expressions as they look at the little girl, her innocence making it harder for them to keep up their cold act.
Lily sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and then in the sweetest, most trusting voice, she adds,
“Mommy told me that daddy loves me and when he is done with work, he will meet me.”
She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world—her childlike belief in her father’s love and promise, pure and untainted by the complicated mess of adult affairs.
You feel your throat tighten as you watch Lily, and even your parents are visibly affected.
Your mother’s hand shakes slightly as she reaches for Lily, pulling her onto her lap. Her expression softens, the guilt creeping in despite her best efforts to remain unaffected.
Your father glances at your mother, his face softening just a fraction. He lets out a small sigh, clearly conflicted, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he picks up his glass, taking a long sip, as if the weight of the situation is too much to bear.
Lily’s innocent words seem to hit them harder than any argument could. And you realize—this is the beginning of something.
They can’t ignore her forever.
You lean forward, your voice still calm but filled with a subtle bite “You see, she’s not going anywhere. She’s part of the family now, whether you like it or not.”
Lily, oblivious to the tension, smiles softly and rests her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. Your mother brushes a strand of hair out of her face, and for a moment, you almost see the warmth return to her eyes.
“Let’s not pretend that we can’t move forward from this,” You add, watching them both. “She’s a part of me, and if you can’t see that, then you’re not seeing the full picture.”
Your father finally speaks, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant “We’ll see how things go.” His words are far from a promise, but it’s a crack in the facade.
A small step toward accepting the truth.
Hongjoong gently nudges your arm, his quiet support standing strong behind you.
And then, for a brief, fleeting moment, you think they might actually listen.
✮ ⋆
The afternoon stretches lazily as you, Hongjoong, and Lily spend time in the vast garden outside. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the manicured lawns.
Birds chirp in the distance, and the sound of laughter and lighthearted chatter fills the air as you chase after Lily, who runs ahead, giggling uncontrollably.
Hongjoong stays close, holding Lily’s hand as she spins in circles, occasionally darting away to pick flowers or make up little games.
The innocence of the moment is enough to make your heart swell, and Hongjoong’s quiet smiles as he watches you with Lily are more than enough to reassure you that, despite the turmoil, this is where she belongs.
From the large windows of the dining room, your parents observe the scene in silence.
The head of the family's stern gaze never falters, his arms crossed over his chest, watching as you play with the child he doesn't want to acknowledge.
His mouth is set in a firm line, and it’s clear he hasn’t warmed to the idea of Mike’s hidden life.
“I still don’t like this,” He mutters under his breath. “It’s not just about her being his daughter. It’s about the family’s reputation. Michael has always been the heir. This… this doesn’t fit the image.”
His wife, standing beside him, watches you through the glass. Her eyes soften as she takes in the sight of her daughter and granddaughter together.
For a moment, she allows herself to feel something, something unspoken. Joy, maybe, or hope—an inkling that, perhaps, this child could be a part of their family, even if it’s only in the most private corners.
“I know you’re worried, but… she’s so sweet.” Her voice trembles slightly, her tone tender as she continues to watch. “I can’t deny it. She’s so innocent, and she deserves a chance. She’s part of Mike’s blood, after all.”
He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. He cannot bring himself to fully accept what is happening, nor can he allow his daughter to be wrapped up in the emotional complexity of it all.
He’s a man of principle, of tradition, and this is not how things should be. His position, his legacy—everything he’s worked for—depends on his son, upholding the family name.
“Mike can’t just do what he wants,” He grumbles, still staring out at the garden. “He’s the heir. We’ve worked our entire lives to protect this family’s name, and this—this child complicates things. She could ruin everything.”
The woman hesitates “But… she’s still part of our family, Richard. You can see it in her face. She’s… she’s so much like Mike. She deserves a place in this family.”
“But she can’t just be ‘part of the family’ because we feel sorry for her.” His voice grows firm again. “Family’s future depends on him. He is our heir. If this news gets out… it could destroy everything. We need to be careful.”
Catherine sighs softly, the weight of the decision pressing on her. She knows what he says is true. Mike’s position in the family, the business—everything depends on how they handle this situation.
She can’t just throw it all away for a child born from a mistake. But deep down, she feels a pang of sympathy for the little girl, and a part of her can’t help but want to open her heart.
“I just wish Mike would have been honest with us from the beginning,” She says softly, looking back out at the garden where you, Hongjoong, and Lily continue to play. “This could have been different… maybe we could have made it work.”
Her husband grunts, not bothering to respond. The thoughts swirling in his head are far more complex than he lets on. He’s still angry, still resolute in his belief that the family must maintain its perfect image.
But as he watches you laugh with the child, something shifts.
Just a little.
Catherine places a gentle hand on his arm, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Don’t forget… we have to think about what’s best for the family. For all of us.”
He doesn’t respond immediately, but his gaze softens for a moment as he watches his daughter interact with Lily.
The love, the connection—it’s undeniable.
It’s not just about legacy anymore; it’s about family. And maybe, just maybe, he can find it in himself to accept this little girl.
✮ ⋆
The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden as the evening winds start to cool.
Lily’s little hands are clinging to your leg as you stand in the doorway, ready to leave.
She’s grown comfortable in the short time she’s spent here, her big eyes filled with innocence and wonder as she looks up at your parents.
“Lily, we’re going to head out now,” You say softly, crouching down to her level as you adjust her little jacket.
The weight of the evening’s tension still hangs in the air, but moments like this make it all seem worth it. Her eyes flicker to her grandparents, and then she looks back at you with that wide-eyed curiosity.
Your mother stands nearby, a little hesitant, but a soft smile curves on her lips as she watches the little girl.
“Goodbye, Lily” She says, her voice surprisingly gentle as she kneels in front of her. “Come here and give Grandma a hug.”
Lily blinks up at her and hesitates for just a second before her tiny arms stretch out.
“Bye, Grandma,” She says sweetly, throwing her arms around your mother’s neck in a warm embrace.
Your mother’s eyes soften even more, her heart swelling with tenderness “Goodbye, my dear. Come see us again soon, okay?” She says softly, her voice catching slightly.
“Okay!” Lily chirps, pulling back and giving her a big smile, her tiny hands clutching the edges of her jacket.
You feel your heart tug as you watch the two of them, the love in your mother’s eyes undeniable. You can’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you see how easy it is for Lily to wrap your mother around her finger.
Turning to your father, Lily trots over to him, her little legs moving quickly as she approaches him hesitantly.
“Goodbye, Grandpa,” She says shyly, her voice almost a whisper.
Your father’s stern expression softens for just a moment as he bends down to her level, offering a hand to her.
“Goodbye, little one,” He replies, his voice rough but kind as he gently pats her head. “Take care of yourself.”
Lily gives him a sweet smile, her innocence shining through. She gives him a quick hug, standing on tiptoe to wrap her tiny arms around his neck.
“I’ll miss you!” She says brightly before letting go.
Your heart aches slightly watching the interaction, a little flutter in your chest, as a sense of something new begins to blossom within you.
It’s strange, yet beautiful to see how Lily’s innocence is slowly making its way into their hearts, no matter how reluctant they may have been before.
Hongjoong stands off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a quiet smile. His presence is a steady comfort, and his eyes meet yours as he watches you.
You glance back at him, giving him a soft smile of appreciation for being there, supporting you in all of this.
Lily looks up at you and stretches her arms out wide, grinning “Come on, Auntie YN, let’s go home!”
You laugh softly, picking her up and resting her against your hip “Alright, sweetie, let’s go,” you say with a final wave to your parents. “Bye.”
With one last look to your parents, you turn to Hongjoong and nod for him to follow, holding Lily close.
Your mother and father wave back, their faces filled with that strange, bittersweet mixture of emotions as they watch you leave.
The door closes gently behind you, and as you step outside, the cool evening air wraps around you, the weight of the moment still lingering in your heart.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Four years ago.
The hallway outside Mike’s room is dimly lit, the distant hum of the household settling for the night.
You were on your way to your own room when you heard it—the sharp edge of his voice, low but venomous.
“I don’t give a damn what you think, Hannah.”
You pause. Hannah, the maid?
You inch closer, pressing yourself against the cold wall near the doorframe. You can’t see them, but you can hear everything.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” He continues, his tone eerily calm “You’re going to take care of this. Get rid of it.”
A sharp inhale. Then Hannah’s voice, trembling but still defiant.
“Mike, this is your child. You can’t just—”
A loud thud cuts her off, like a hand slamming against the desk. You flinch.
“No, Hannah,” Mike hisses, his voice now sharp as a knife. “I told you to handle it. I don’t care how. But you will not ruin my future over this. Do you understand me?”
Silence. Thick. Suffocating.
Then, softer, but no less cruel, “If you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell. And I’ll make sure that bastard never sees the light of day.”
Your stomach twists. Your chest tightens. You don’t know what’s happening, but your instincts tell you it’s something terrible.
Hannah sniffles “Mike, please…”
He sighs, exasperated, like he’s dealing with an inconvenience rather than a human being.
“You have until tomorrow to figure it out.”
A second later, footsteps approach. You panic, stepping away from the door just as it swings open.
Mike stops short when he sees you standing there. His eyes narrow, calculating.
“What are you doing here?”
Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You glance past him, catching a glimpse of Hannah inside the room—eyes red, shoulders shaking, her hand protectively placed over her stomach.
He steps forward, blocking your view, his voice lowering dangerously “Forget whatever you think you heard.”
You shake your head slightly, confusion and unease knotting inside you.
“What—”
He doesn’t let you finish “Actually,” He murmurs, a slow smirk curling on his lips, “You’re going to help me.”
Your brows furrow “Uh?”
Mike tilts his head “You’re going to tell Mother and Father that Hannah stole from you.”
Your breath catches “She what?”
“You’ll say you saw her sneaking out of your room with your jewelry,” He continues smoothly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world “They’ll believe you.”
“Mike, no…” You whisper, horrified.
He leans in slightly, his presence suffocating “You will.”
You shake your head, stepping back “I won’t do that to her.”
His smirk vanishes in an instant. His hand shoots out, gripping your arm so tightly you wince.
“Yes, you will,” He says darkly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
You don’t sleep that night.
The next morning, Hannah is dragged out of the estate in tears.
And you watch, sick to your stomach, as your parents believe every word you say.
—
The school gates are buzzing with students leaving for the day, laughter and chatter filling the air. You step outside, slipping your phone into your bag when a soft voice stops you.
"Miss YN."
You blink, turning toward the sound.
And freeze, it's been months since the last time you saw her.
Hannah stands a few feet away, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. But that’s not what sends your heart plummeting to your stomach.
It’s the undeniable swell of her belly beneath her coat.
Your mind goes blank.
She shifts uncomfortably under your stare, glancing around as if making sure no one is watching.
“Can we talk?”
You don’t respond immediately, still trying to process what you’re seeing. Then, your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag, and you nod stiffly.
You lead her toward a quieter area near the entrance, away from the curious eyes of your classmates. The moment you stop walking, you cut straight to the point.
“You’re pregnant.” Your voice is eerily calm.
Hannah exhales, her shoulders sagging slightly “Yes.”
Your stomach churns “Is it—”
“I know Mike is in Germany now,” She interrupts before you can finish the question. “That’s why I came to see you.” She looks up, her expression conflicted. “I’m pregnant, Miss YN. Mike is the father.”
Your heart pounds violently against your ribs.
Hannah swallows hard, her voice quieter now, almost fragile “He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Or the baby.”
It feels like the ground beneath you is cracking, splitting open, revealing something dark and ugly you were never meant to see.
“That’s why he forced me to lie?”
The words slip past your lips before you can stop them. Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Hannah hears it.
Her brows furrow “What?”
Your chest tightens painfully “That’s why he made me say you stole from me?” You repeat, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Because he didn’t want to handle his mistake?”
Hannah’s lips part slightly. She looks shaken, her hands trembling.
“Miss YN… you did—”
“I didn’t want to,” You cut in, your throat tightening. “But he gave me no choice.”
A heavy silence stretches between you. Then Hannah speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.
“I never got rid of her.”
Your breath catches.
“What?”
Hannah exhales shakily, one hand instinctively pressing against her belly, as if shielding the life growing inside her.
“I couldn’t do it,” she whispers. Her eyes meet yours—raw, pleading, desperate. “I’m keeping her.”
The world tilts beneath your feet.
Oh, god.
Your throat tightens, your heart hammering against your ribs.
“Don’t worry,” You manage, though your voice barely holds steady. “I’ll help you.”
But the second the words leave your lips, reality crashes down like a tidal wave.
You’re only seventeen.
How the hell are you supposed to ask your parents for extra money without raising suspicion? How are you going to keep this a secret from them?
And most importantly…
What will Mike do if he finds out?
A shiver runs down your spine.
He will kill you.
If he ever finds out, he will fucking kill you.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Taglist: @mrskill2 @stayatinykatsy @badbitch69420sworld @lunaryoongie @lover-ofallthingspretty @certifiedmoa @jilxxasu @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @Lemonkait00 @yulsr @justconniez @luvvvash @zaynsfl4m3s @nkryuki @boomzen @hurryupmars @silenttrxxs @blue5ummer @khaskl08 @unbroken-shadows @vnxlla @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @milliesupremexx @xh01bri @a-atiny_niawoo @winterstuf @domfikeluva @lezleeferguson-120 @beabatiny @yothangie @lover-of-fics @mingipessego @posseup @0407files @cheolright @nyx-y @arilevenatz @yeorisanaxox @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @ddeonugu @niaee @yunhogrippers @itzyejiluv @sannieworshipper @m0onchild-98 @l0vjoongie
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All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.
I see it, especially the music one since i’m listening to music right now 😭
I saw this floating around amd wanted to try it!
Go to pinterest and search “my vibe aesthetic” and post the top 6 results!
Tagging: @mimikittysblog @fizzyapplecandy
This is so good! I can’t wait for the next part! <3
The CEO Collision - Part One
Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO! reader (f)
Warnings / content for Part One: Suggestive content, angsty, alcohol consumption. Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.
Word Count: 10.4k
Masterlist for The CEO Collision
“Congratulations, Ms. Y/N,” your secretary said when you entered your office after your last meeting for the day, and the week as it was a Friday. “The investors seemed impressed.”
“Thank you, Nari,” you replied with a grin, gathering your stuff to put it in your bag. “Shouldn’t you be heading out soon for your date?”
Nari blushed. “Yunho pushed our reservation by half an hour to give me some time to get ready.”
You nodded. “That’s sweet of him. Have fun tonight,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “And tell Yunho I said hi.”
“Will do,” Nari said with a grin. “You’re heading straight home?”
“That’s the plan,” you replied, glancing at your phone to check the time. “I’m long overdue for a quiet night in.”
Nari chuckled. “Knowing you, you’ll end up working from home anyway.”
You smirked. “Probably, but at least I’ll be in my pajamas.”
“Fair point,” she said, walking you to the elevator. “Drive safe, Ms. Y/N.”
“You too. And don’t let Yunho distract you too much from dinner,” you teased as the elevator doors opened.
Nari blushed again, laughing as she waved goodbye. “No promises.”
The elevator doors closed, leaving you alone for the descent to the parking garage. You leaned against the wall, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The week had been productive but exhausting, and the promise of the weekend was the only thing that kept you going.
Once the elevator reached the basement, you stepped out and made your way to your car. The quiet hum of the nearly empty garage was oddly comforting as you unlocked the sleek black sedan that your father had insisted you drive.
Sliding into the driver’s seat, you tossed your bag onto the passenger side and started the engine. The low purr was satisfying, a reminder of all the hard work that had brought you here. As you pulled out of the parking lot, the city lights began to blur together in a comforting glow against the evening sky.
The drive home was uneventful, the streets gradually growing quieter as you moved away from the bustling business district. By the time you reached the gates of your family’s estate, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and purple.
The gates opened automatically as you approached, and you drove down the winding driveway toward the sprawling mansion. Parking in your usual spot, you turned off the car and sat there for a moment, staring at the grand facade of your childhood home.
With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car, making your way to the front door. One of the house staff greeted you with a polite smile as you entered.
“Welcome home, Ms. Y/N. Dinner will be served shortly.”
You nodded in acknowledgment, slipping off your heels as you made your way inside. The comforting aroma of your mother’s cooking wafted through the air, and despite your exhaustion, a small part of you looked forward to the meal.
As you approached the dining room, you heard the faint hum of conversation and your twin brother’s unmistakable laughter.
“Look who finally decided to show up,” your twin, Hongjoong, teased without looking up.
Rolling your eyes, you walked over and ruffled his perfectly styled hair, earning a sharp protest.
“Ugh, stop that!” he grumbled, swatting your hand away.
“Can’t help it,” you replied with a smirk as you took your seat. “You look too polished. Someone has to keep you grounded.”
He huffed, running his fingers through his hair to fix it, muttering under his breath about how annoying you were.
“Kids, behave,” your mother said with a fond smile as the staff began serving dinner.
You glanced at the spread—steaming platters of food, perfectly arranged salads, and freshly baked buns. Despite the lavish meal, your mind was still buzzing with thoughts of work.
“How was your day, dear?” your mother asked, her tone warm while she watched you fill up your plate.
“It went really well,” you replied, a sense of pride creeping into your voice. “We had our investor meeting today for the new line of medical imaging devices, and they were impressed. They’ve agreed to back us for the next phase of development.”
“That’s wonderful news,” your father said, setting down his fork to look at you. “This could be a game-changer for your company.”
“It will be,” you said confidently, picking up your glass of water. “The potential applications are huge, and with their support, we’ll be able to expand production globally.”
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought you’d be burnt out by now. You’ve been working on that pitch for weeks.”
You shrugged, taking a sip of water. “I won’t lie, it’s been exhausting. But seeing the results today made it worth it.”
“Hard work always pays off,” your father said approvingly. “You’ve done an excellent job, Y/N.”
Your mother beamed with pride. “I knew you’d pull it off. You’ve always had a knack for making things happen.”
“Well, let’s just hope the development phase goes as smoothly,” you said, though the smile on your face didn’t waver.
Dinner buzzed with lively conversation as the dishes were passed around. Stories from work, jokes, and plans for the weekend filled the air. You felt the week’s exhaustion slowly ebb away as the comfortable rhythm of family time took over.
“So, Joong,” your father said casually, turning to your brother. “Are you heading to Mingi’s bar later tonight? Seonghwa mentioned the two of you were planning to catch up over drinks.”
Hongjoong shrugged, chewing on a bite of salmon. “He brought it up earlier, but I haven’t decided yet. Why?”
Your father leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more serious. “I spoke with Seonghwa’s parents today.”
The mood at the table shifted subtly, your mother straightening her posture and Hongjoong setting down his fork.
“Oh?” your brother said cautiously. “What about?”
Your father hesitated for a moment, as though choosing his words carefully. Then, he said, “Their company has been struggling for a while now. They came to us with a… suggestion.”
“What kind of suggestion?” you asked, sensing where this might be headed but hoping you were wrong.
Your father looked directly at you. “They’ve asked for your hand in marriage, Y/N.”
The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.
“What?” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.
Hongjoong gaped, clearly just as blindsided at hearing that his bestfriend would possibly marry his twin sister. “Wait, hold on. You’re joking, right?”
Your father shook his head. “They believe a marriage between you and Seonghwa would secure both families’ futures. It would strengthen the partnership and stabilize their company.”
“This is ridiculous,” you snapped, your appetite vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”
“It’s not as bad as you think,” your mother interjected softly. “You and Seonghwa already know each other since high school. It wouldn’t be like starting from scratch.”
“That’s exactly the problem!” you exclaimed. “We know each other too well, and it’s not good!”
Well, your relationship with Seonghwa was complicated. In simpler words, you hated each other.
Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. Strongly dislike?
You and Seonghwa have history, though.
And it hurts every time you see him.
“Y/N,” your father said firmly, “this is bigger than personal feelings. Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made for the greater good.”
Hongjoong was not amused, his voice rising. “You’re really going to force her into this? Without even discussing it with her first?”
“We’re discussing it now,” your father replied, his tone calm but unyielding.
You felt a wave of anger and disbelief crash over you. “Discussing? You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”
Your mother avoided your gaze, and your father’s silence was confirmation enough.
Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. “This is insane.”
“You’re being dramatic,” your father said. “This arrangement will benefit everyone.”
“I’m not doing it,” you said through gritted teeth, pushing your chair back. “You can’t make me.”
“Y/N—” your mother started, but you were already on your feet, your heart pounding with fury.
“I need some air,” you muttered before storming out of the dining room, leaving your stunned family behind.
The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stepped into the garden, the faint glow of lanterns lighting the cobblestone path. The neatly trimmed hedges and rows of blooming flowers framed the vast space, but your focus was on the gazebo ahead—a sanctuary of peace amid the chaos of the evening.
You made your way to it and sat down on the wooden bench inside. The gazebo overlooked the koi pond, its surface rippling gently under the moonlight. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within you.
Marriage. To him.
The thought alone made your chest tighten. You pressed your hands against your lap, fingers gripping the fabric of your dress. Your mind, against your will, drifted to the past.
It was senior year of college, a warm night like this one, and a party full of red cups, blaring music, and friends urging you to drink. You and Seonghwa had both been there, circling each other with that same mix of irritation and curiosity that had always defined your relationship.
You remembered the alcohol-fueled courage that led to a heated argument in the kitchen, which somehow turned into shared laughter and then lips moving against each other, and then…
You shook your head, willing the memory to stop, but it continued. The two of you in his dimly lit bedroom, a tangle of limbs and whispers, hands all over each other, bare skin to bare skin, the lines of hatred blurring for a brief moment. And then, the next morning.
The hurt welled up as you recalled how he had acted like nothing had happened, brushing it off as though it had been meaningless. No acknowledgment, no apology—just an unspoken agreement to pretend it never occurred.
Your nails dug into your palms as the emotions swirled. Hurt. Anger. Resentment.
Because that wasn’t the first time you spent the night in Seonghwa’s bed. It happened one more time the same year.
And again three years later when you both started a masters degree in the same university.
He reacted the exact same way, acting like this was all a mistake.
A soft knock on the wooden pillar of the gazebo startled you, pulling you back to the present.
You turned, and there he was—Park Seonghwa.
His tall figure was illuminated by the soft garden lights, and his dark suit clung to him perfectly, as always. His expression was unreadable, his eyes steady as they met yours.
“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice calm, though you could sense the tension beneath it.
Your heart skipped a beat, but you masked it with a glare. “Do I have a choice?”
Seonghwa’s lips curved into the faintest smirk as he stepped into the gazebo, his presence filling the small space. “Not really.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Why are you here?”
“I came to pick up your brother,” he said, leaning against one of the pillars. “But it seems like I stumbled into a family meeting instead.”
“You knew,” you accused, your voice sharp.
His brows furrowed. “Knew what?”
“About this ridiculous arrangement,” you snapped, standing abruptly. “About our parents trying to marry us off like some business merger.”
Seonghwa’s expression hardened. “You think I had a say in this?”
“You always seem to have a say in everything,” you shot back, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface.
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I found out this afternoon, Y/N. I’m just as blindsided as you are.”
You searched his face for any sign of deception, but all you saw was the same frustration you felt. It caught you off guard, and you lowered your gaze, the fight draining out of you.
“I’m not doing it,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
Seonghwa’s voice softened slightly. “Neither am I. But you know how our families are. They won’t make this easy for us.”
You clenched your jaw, looking away. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and for a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the garden’s serenity at odds with the turmoil in your hearts.
“I don’t want to marry you, Seonghwa,” you said finally, your voice trembling with honesty.
He hesitated, and when he spoke, his tone was quieter, almost resigned. “I know,” he murmured, loud enough for you to hear before he left you alone.
But for some reason, the way he said it didn’t bring you the relief you thought it would.
-x-x-x-
The soft clinking of cutlery and the murmur of polite conversation filled the sunlit dining room. The brunch spread before you was nothing short of extravagant, as was typical of any gathering hosted by your family. Freshly baked croissants, platters of fruit, and a variety of cheeses adorned the table, along with a selection of teas and juices.
Across from you sat Mr. and Mrs. Park, Seonghwa’s parents, their expressions warm despite the tension that lingered beneath the surface. Mrs. Park, ever elegant, wore a tailored pastel suit, her smile gentle as she sipped her tea. Mr. Park, though visibly tired, maintained his usual composed demeanor.
“Thank you for having us,” Mrs. Park said, glancing at you. “It’s always a pleasure to visit.”
“It’s always nice to see you, Mrs. Park,” you replied with a small smile, setting your cup down.
Your parents sat at the head of the table, exchanging pleasantries with the Parks, but the unspoken purpose of the brunch hung heavy in the air.
“How’s Seonghwa?” your mother asked casually, though there was a slight edge to her tone.
Mrs. Park hesitated, her smile faltering for a moment. “He… had a late night with Hongjoong and Mingi,” she said delicately. “He’s resting.”
You barely suppressed a scoff. Of course, he was. It wasn’t hard to imagine him nursing a hangover while his parents tried to salvage their family’s business.
“Oh yes,” your mother said, her expression neutral as she took a sip of her tea.
Mrs. Park quickly redirected the conversation. “Y/N, how is your work going? I heard about your recent success with the investors. That’s truly impressive.”
“Thank you,” you said, offering a polite smile. “It’s been a busy few weeks, but the results were worth it.”
“You’ve always been so driven,” Mrs. Park said fondly. “It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. Mrs. Park had always been kind to you, treating you almost like a second daughter. The thought of her struggling because of their company’s financial issues tugged at something in your chest.
As the conversation continued, Mr. Park cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “We won’t pretend this isn’t a difficult situation,” he said, his tone steady but tinged with exhaustion. “Our company… it’s been challenging, to say the least. We’ve explored every option we can think of this past two years, but this marriage proposal seemed like the best path forward—for both our families.”
Your father nodded, his expression serious. “It’s not ideal, but it’s a way to ensure stability.”
Mrs. Park turned to you, her gaze soft. “Y/N, I know this isn’t fair to you. If there were another way, we wouldn’t even consider asking this of you. But… we’re out of options.”
The vulnerability in her voice made your heart ache. You had known the Parks for years, and they had always treated you with warmth and respect. The thought of them losing everything felt deeply unfair.
“I understand,” you said quietly, your hands resting on your lap. “You and Mr. Park have always been kind to me, and I appreciate that more than I can say. If marrying Seonghwa is what it takes to help your family, then… I’ll consider it.” A silence fell over the table, broken only by the soft chirping of birds outside. “But…” you continued, “I would like to get to know Seonghwa a bit more first.”
Mrs. Park’s eyes filled with gratitude, and she reached out to place a hand over yours. “Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea what this means to us.”
Your father looked at you with a mix of surprise and approval, while your mother’s expression remained unreadable.
But as you sat there, a quiet determination settling over you, you couldn’t help but wonder how you would face Seonghwa after this—and whether he would ever understand why you made this choice.
You had a soft spot when it came to him. Perhaps that’s why it was so easy for you to at least agree to try?
Later in the day, you were sat on the plush couch in your room, a glass of wine in your hand as you recounted the whirlwind of the past 24 hours to your best friend. Across from you, Yeri was curled up in an armchair, her eyes wide with interest as you spoke.
When you finished, she let out a low whistle, her jaw dropping slightly. “So, let me get this straight,” she said, leaning forward. “You’re basically engaged to CEO Park Seonghwa?”
“Uh, no,” you replied with a sigh, twirling the stem of your wine glass between your fingers. “I asked to get to know him, Yeri. It’s… complicated.”
Yeri tilted her head thoughtfully, her expression surprisingly calm. “It doesn’t sound like you’re entirely against it, though. The idea of marrying him, I mean.”
You blinked at her, caught off guard. “You’re not going to yell at me about how unfair this is?”
She shrugged, offering you a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I think the whole ‘arranged marriage for the sake of business’ thing is ridiculous. But honestly, Y/N, it might not be the worst thing in the world.”
Your brows furrowed. “How can you say that? You know how I feel about him.”
Yeri sighed, setting her glass down on the coffee table. “I know Seonghwa’s a sore spot for you, and I know your history with him isn’t exactly… ideal. But it’s been nearly four years since the last time you were with him, you both are thirty years old, and his parents are struggling and this can help them. If your families think this is the best way to secure the future, it might be worth considering.”
You stared at her, unsure whether to feel betrayed or grateful. “You’re awfully calm about all this.”
“Because I know you,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You wouldn’t even be entertaining this idea if you didn’t care. You’ve always had a soft spot for people in need, poor or rich, and as much as you hate to admit it, you care about his family. Plus…” She paused, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “It’s not like Seonghwa’s hard to look at.”
“Yeri!” you exclaimed, throwing a pillow at her.
She laughed, dodging the pillow easily. “I’m just saying! If you have to be stuck in a marriage of convenience, at least it’s with someone who looks like him. You must admit, he speaks so eloquently too.”
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re too stubborn for your own good,” she shot back. “Look, I’m not saying this is going to be easy. But maybe it’s an opportunity to start fresh. You’ve spent so much energy hating him—maybe it’s time to let some of that go?”
You bit your lip, her words hitting closer to home than you wanted to admit. “It’s not that simple, Yeri.”
“I know it’s not,” she said gently. “But you’re one of the strongest people I know, and if anyone can make this work, it’s you.”
You let out a long sigh, setting your glass down. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Yeri leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with determination. “You start by surviving this engagement thing or getting to know him whatever-thing. And when the time comes, I’ll be there to make sure your wedding is the event of the century. Deal?”
A small laugh escaped you as you reached for your wine glass again. “Deal.”
“To new beginnings,” Yeri said, raising her glass in a toast.
“To surviving this mess,” you replied, clinking your glass against hers.
-x-x-x-
The hum of activity filled your office as you reviewed the latest reports from your team. The success of the investor meeting last week had set a positive tone, and you were determined to keep the momentum going.
Your phone buzzed against your desk, drawing your attention away from the document in front of you. Frowning slightly, you reached for it and saw a message from Seonghwa.
Seonghwa: Dinner tonight? Let’s talk.
Your breath hitched, your heart racing despite yourself. You hesitated, staring at the screen for a moment before typing a reply.
You: What time?
The response came almost immediately.
Seonghwa: 7 PM? I’ll pick you up.
You: Sounds good
You set your phone down, trying to focus on your work, but your thoughts were already elsewhere. The idea of sitting across from him at a dinner table was… unsettling. After years of tension, could the two of you even hold a decent conversation?
A knock on your office door pulled you from your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, smoothing your expression.
Nari walked in, holding a folder. “Here are the updated projections you asked for.”
“Thank you,” you said, taking the folder and setting it on your desk.
Nari hesitated for a moment, glancing at your phone. “Are you okay, Ms. Y/N? You seem… distracted.”
You managed a smile. “I’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”
She nodded, not pressing further. “If you need anything, let me know.”
As she left, you leaned back in your chair, letting out a long sigh. You knew why Seonghwa had reached out. You were both navigating uncharted territory, and like it or not, you needed to give this a chance—for your families, if nothing else.
When the clock struck five, you grabbed your coat and bag, leaving the office with a sense of apprehension. As you headed to your car, you checked your phone again, confirming the time.
7 PM. Dinner with CEO Park Seonghwa.
Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you drove home to get ready. You weren’t sure if this dinner would bring any clarity, but one thing was certain: it was the start of a new chapter, whether you liked it or not.
---
You stood in front of your floor-length mirror, smoothing the fabric of your black silk dress. It clung to your figure perfectly, the sleek design exuding elegance while still being understated enough for a dinner meeting. Your matching pumps completed the look, and you reached for your favorite necklace—a delicate silver chain with a tiny diamond pendant—fastening it around your neck.
As you finished applying a touch of lipstick, there was a knock at your bedroom door.
“Come in,” you called, setting the tube down on your vanity.
The door creaked open, and Hongjoong’s familiar face appeared. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his sharp suit slightly wrinkled, likely from a long day at work.
“You look nice,” he said, his tone light but his eyes watchful.
“Thanks,” you replied, turning back to the mirror to check your hair one last time.
“So…” he began, stepping further into the room. “Dinner with Seonghwa, huh? He’s waiting downstairs.”
You let out a soft sigh, turning to face him. “Don’t start.”
“I’m not starting,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just… wanted to check in.”
You arched a brow. “Check in? Since when do you ‘check in’?”
He smiled faintly, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Since my twin sister got roped into an engagement with my best friend, whom she’s barely been able to tolerate for the past decade.”
You crossed your arms, leaning against the edge of your vanity. “I’ll survive, Joong. It’s just dinner.”
“I know,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. “But you’ve never told me why you and Seonghwa don’t get along. And now you’re supposed to marry him. I can’t help but worry about how this is going to work.”
You averted your gaze, focusing on the soft shimmer of your dress under the light. “It’s… complicated.” You couldn’t tell Hongjoong about the couple of times you slept with Seonghwa; he would be furious and you didn’t want any drama.
“It always is with you two,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “But you know you can talk to me, right? If there’s something I should know, I’m here.”
The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, but you forced a small smile. “I know. Thanks, Joong.”
He studied you for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly. “You don’t have to do this, you know. If it’s too much—if it’s not what you want—mom and dad will understand.”
You shook your head, standing straighter. “It’s not about what I want. This is bigger than me, and you know it.”
Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that you’re in this position. But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”
You smiled faintly. “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”
He grinned, standing and brushing invisible lint from his suit. “What are brothers for?”
As he reached the door, he paused, glancing back at you. “Be careful tonight, okay?”
“I will,” you promised, and with that, he left, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again.
You turned back to the mirror, taking a deep breath. Your reflection stared back at you, poised but uncertain. This dinner wasn’t just a meal—it was the first step in navigating a path you never thought you’d take.
You descended the grand staircase of your family’s mansion, the soft clicking of your heels echoing against the marble floor. Your fingers brushed lightly against the ornate railing, and you forced yourself to remain calm, despite the flutter of nerves in your chest.
At the base of the stairs, Seonghwa stood with your mother, engaged in polite conversation. His smooth voice carried up to you, though you couldn’t make out his words.
It wasn’t until you were halfway down that his gaze shifted, locking onto you. His conversation with your mother faltered for a brief second, his eyes trailing up your figure with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place.
You tried not to let his attention rattle you, but you couldn’t help noticing how sharp he looked tonight. He wore a silk white button-up shirt tucked neatly into tailored black slacks. The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing just enough of his collarbone to add an air of casual charm.
There was a reason why Park Seonghwa was frequently labeled the most handsome and eligible bachelor CEO in the country. And tonight, it was painfully obvious why.
As you reached the last step, your mother turned to you with a warm smile. “Ah, there you are, darling. You look stunning.”
“Thank you, Mom,” you said, offering her a small smile. Your gaze flicked briefly to Seonghwa, who was still watching you. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity of his stare made your skin heat.
“Seonghwa’s been keeping me company while you were getting ready,” your mother said, her tone light and conversational.
“Good to know he’s capable of that,” you replied, unable to resist a teasing jab.
Seonghwa’s lips quirked upward in a small smirk. “I aim to impress.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the faint twitch of amusement at the corners of your mouth.
“Well,” your mother said, clasping her hands together, “you two should get going. Don’t keep your reservation waiting. Drive safe, Seonghwa.”
“Of course,” Seonghwa said smoothly, nodding toward the front door.
You paused mid-step, turning to him with a raised brow. “You’re driving?”
“I always do,” he replied, already pulling the keys from his pocket. “Why? Unless you’d rather drive yourself?”
You huffed softly, walking past him toward the front door. “Just try not to kill us.”
“I’ll do my best,” he quipped, following you outside.
The chrome silver sports car parked in the driveway was unmistakably his—sleek, polished, and oozing with understated wealth, much like its owner.
Seonghwa stepped ahead to open the passenger door for you, a gentlemanly gesture that caught you off guard. You slid into the seat without comment, the faint scent of leather and his cologne enveloping you.
Moments later, he was in the driver’s seat, starting the car with a low purr of the engine.
“This should be interesting,” he murmured, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eyes before shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the driveway. The soft hum of the engine filled the car as Seonghwa drove, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel. You leaned against the window, watching as the glittering skyline of Seoul gradually faded into quieter roads and open spaces.
You frowned, glancing at him. “This doesn’t look like Gangnam or any of the other districts people like you usually frequent. Where are we going?”
He smirked, the faint glow of the dashboard highlighting his sharp profile. “Relax. You’ll like it.”
“Will I?” you shot back, your voice tinged with doubt. “CEOs like you go beyond Seoul?”
“You’re a CEO too,” Seonghwa chuckled, a low, amused sound that made you glance at him again. “Expensive doesn’t always mean good,” he said, his tone teasing. “Seems like the guys you’ve been with before just took you to the basics.”
You blinked, taken aback by his comment. “Excuse me?”
He shrugged, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What? It’s not my fault if your standards have been... uninspired.”
“Uninspired?” you repeated, your voice incredulous.
“You’ll see what I mean,” he replied smoothly, clearly enjoying your reaction.
You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been to some of the best places in Seoul.”
“Good for you,” he said, his grin widening. “But tonight, I’m showing you something better.”
You bit back a retort, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument. Instead, you turned your attention back to the window as the car began winding up a steep hill.
Moments later, Seonghwa pulled into a small parking lot at the top. The restaurant in front of you was nothing like what you’d expected. It was simple yet elegant, with warm lanterns casting a golden glow on its wooden façade.
“This is where we’re eating?” you asked, unable to hide your surprise.
“One of my favorites,” he said, stepping out of the car. “Come on.”
You followed him inside, where the soft murmur of conversation and the faint aroma of freshly prepared dishes greeted you. The hostess bowed and led you down a quiet hallway to a private room at the end.
The room was intimate and tastefully decorated, with a low table surrounded by plush cushions. A large window stretched along one wall, offering a breathtaking view of Seoul’s twinkling lights below.
“Not bad, right?” Seonghwa said as he gestured for you to sit.
You hesitated for a moment before settling onto one of the cushions. “The view is… nice,” you admitted grudgingly.
He smirked, taking the seat opposite you. “I told you I know good places. You just had to trust me.”
A server arrived to pour tea and hand you both menus. As you glanced over the options, you couldn’t help stealing a glance at Seonghwa. He looked completely at ease, his sharp features softened by the warm glow of the room. For a brief moment, you wondered if there was more to him than the infuriating person you’d known for years.
As the server returned with the first round of dishes, you took a moment to admire the spread. The plates were elegantly arranged, and the aroma of fresh ingredients filled the room.
“This looks amazing,” you admitted, glancing at Seonghwa.
He smirked, leaning back against the cushion. “Told you I know good spots.”
You picked up your chopsticks and sampled one of the dishes, your eyes widening slightly at the burst of flavor. “Okay, I’ll give you this. The food is actually good.”
He chuckled, watching you with a satisfied expression. “You sound surprised.”
“Well, forgive me for underestimating someone who usually dines at places where the plates are more decorative than functional,” you quipped, a playful edge to your tone.
“Touché,” he replied, reaching for his glass of tea. “But I’ll have you know, I’ve always preferred places like this. The hype about fine dining is overrated.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re saying that after all the times you’ve been photographed at Michelin-starred restaurants?”
He smirked. “Appearances. You know how it is.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t argue. After all, you’d played the same game for the sake of business and image.
As the meal progressed, the conversation turned unexpectedly candid.
“So,” you said, setting your chopsticks down for a moment, “why did you agree to this? The engagement, I mean.”
He met your gaze, his expression calm but serious. “Do I really have a choice? My company’s struggling, and our families are… insistent.”
“You could’ve said no,” you countered, tilting your head slightly.
“And let my parents deal with the fallout?” he said with a dry chuckle. “You know how they are. Saying no wasn’t really an option.”
You sighed, swirling the tea in your cup. “Yeah, I get that. My parents were just as persistent.”
There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his tone quieter. “What about you? Why didn’t you refuse?”
You hesitated, the memory of his parents’ heartfelt words at brunch flashing through your mind. “They’ve always been kind to me,” you admitted. “I couldn’t stand the thought of letting them down when they’re already dealing with so much.”
He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You really care about them, huh?”
You shrugged, uncomfortable with the shift in the conversation. “They were always good to me. That’s all.”
The server returned with dessert, a delicate plate of mochi and a pot of freshly brewed tea. Seonghwa gestured toward the dish. “Try the matcha one. It’s their specialty.”
You picked one up and took a small bite, nodding in approval. “Not bad.”
He laughed softly. “Not bad is high praise coming from you.”
You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.
As the meal wrapped up, Seonghwa glanced at the time and stood. “Ready to head back?”
You nodded, following him out to the car. The night air was crisp, and the stars were faintly visible against the dark sky.
Sliding into the passenger seat, you glanced at him as he adjusted the rearview mirror. “You didn’t drink tonight,” you noted.
He flashed a quick grin. “Someone had to drive.”
You smirked. “Responsible and considerate. Who knew?”
He chuckled as he pulled out of the parking lot, the car humming softly as it began the descent back down the hill. “Don’t get used to it.”
The drive was quiet but not unpleasant. You found yourself stealing glances at him, surprised by the unexpected side of Seonghwa you’d seen tonight. He seemed focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel, but his presence filled the quiet space between you.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he remarked after a while, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the road.
“Just… thinking,” you replied, shifting slightly in your seat.
He arched an eyebrow. “About what?”
You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to share your thoughts. “About tonight,” you said vaguely.
He chuckled softly, his lips curling into a small smile. “What about tonight? The food? The view? Or… me?”
You shot him a look, your cheeks warming slightly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
“Too late,” he teased, the smirk not leaving his face.
Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention to the window, watching the city lights grow brighter as you neared Seoul. “I was just surprised, that’s all. Tonight wasn’t what I expected.”
“In a good way, I hope?” he asked, his tone suddenly less teasing and more curious.
You didn’t answer immediately, considering your words carefully. “It was… different. I’ll leave it at that.”
He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Always so guarded. You haven’t changed much.”
The comment made you stiffen slightly, your gaze snapping back to him. “And you think you know me so well?”
“I’ve known you for years, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe not everything about you, but enough to know how you are.”
The weight of his words hung in the air, stirring memories you’d long tried to bury. Memories of the nights you’d spent together in college, and the way he’d brushed it off as though it meant nothing.
You looked away, your voice quiet. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”
The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, but Seonghwa didn’t push further.
As the car turned onto your family’s driveway, the mansion loomed ahead, its windows glowing warmly against the night. He pulled to a smooth stop near the front entrance, cutting the engine.
“Thanks for tonight,” you said, your voice a little more composed as you unbuckled your seatbelt.
He nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Anytime.”
You reached for the door handle but paused, glancing back at him. “Why did you take me there?”
He looked at you, his gaze steady. “Because I thought you deserved a real dinner, not something staged for appearances.”
The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond.
“Goodnight, Seonghwa,” you said finally, stepping out of the car before he could say anything else.
As you walked toward the door, you could feel his gaze on you, lingering like a question you weren’t ready to answer.
-x-x-x-
The week flew by in a whirlwind of meetings and deadlines, and before you knew it, Friday evening had arrived. You found yourself standing in front of your closet, deliberating on what to wear to Yeosang’s 30th birthday party.
The party was being held at Mingi’s bar, a sleek and exclusive venue that was a favorite among your social circle. Yeosang, who you had known since he was still crawling around in diapers, had insisted on a lively celebration, and you weren’t about to miss it.
You finally settled on a fitted, navy cocktail dress with subtle sequins that shimmered under the light, pairing it with silver heels. After one final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your clutch and headed out.
When you arrived, the bar was already buzzing with energy. A live DJ played upbeat music, and laughter and chatter filled the air. The space had been reserved entirely for the party, with a section of tables arranged for gifts and a custom cake shaped like a stethoscope and a scalpel—a nod to Yeosang’s career. His family owned a chain of hospitals and he was a fourth year resident in neurosurgery. His mother was the doctor that took care of your mom’s pregnancy with you and your twin.
“Y/N!”
You turned to see Yeosang himself, looking dashing in a tailored suit. He greeted you with a wide smile, pulling you into a warm hug.
“Happy birthday, Yeosang,” you said, handing him a small, elegantly wrapped gift.
“You didn’t have to, but thank you!” He beamed, placing the gift on the table before turning back to you. “You look amazing, by the way. Are you planning to steal the spotlight from me tonight?”
You laughed. “Hardly. This is your night, doctor.”
As you exchanged a few more pleasantries, Hongjoong appeared beside you, his arm draped casually over your shoulder. “There you are,” he said. “I thought you’d back out last minute.”
“Not this time,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’s Yeosang’s 30th. How could I miss it?”
“Good,” Yeosang said, grinning. “Now, go grab a drink and have fun. You work too much, Y/N.”
You chuckled, nodding as you made your way to the bar.
At the counter, you spotted Nari sitting beside Yunho, her cheeks flushed as she laughed at something he had said. Yunho caught sight of you and waved.
“Y/N!” he called out. “Join us!”
You smiled and approached, Nari immediately scooting over to make room.
“Hi, Ms. Y/N,” Nari said cheerfully, her tone more relaxed than usual. “Isn’t this place amazing?”
“It is,” you replied, ordering a drink. “Mingi always outdoes himself. You don’t need to use honorifics with me, Nari, we’re not at work.”
Nari nodded with a smile. “I’ll try.”
As you sipped your cocktail, a familiar voice behind you made you turn.
“Fancy seeing you here,” Seonghwa said, his tone teasing.
He was dressed sharply, as always, in a dark blazer and slacks that complemented his broad shoulders. His hair was slightly tousled, giving him a more casual yet polished look.
“Seonghwa,” you acknowledged coolly, raising your glass slightly. “Surprised you made it.”
“Why? Because I’m such a workaholic?” he replied, smirking. “Even I take breaks occasionally, Ms. CEO.”
“Rare, but good to know,” you said, turning your attention back to your drink.
Hongjoong appeared moments later, clapping Seonghwa on the back. “Come on, man. Let’s go grab a drink and join the others.”
Seonghwa gave you a lingering glance before following Hongjoong into the crowd.
As the night went on, the music grew louder, and the atmosphere became more spirited. You found yourself chatting with old friends and acquaintances, laughing and catching up. But every now and then, you felt Seonghwa’s gaze on you from across the room, a quiet intensity that was impossible to ignore.
The music pulsed through the bar, the crowd thickening as more guests arrived. You were just about to grab another drink when you noticed a familiar face making his way toward you. Jaehwan.
“Y/N,” he greeted you with a bright smile, his presence as confident as ever. “Long time no see.”
You tensed slightly but masked it with a smile, trying to keep things cordial. “Jaehwan. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Yeosang and I go way back, you know? We work together now,” he said with a casual shrug, his dark eyes glimmering with a hint of amusement. “And with you being here, it’s the perfect chance to catch up. Can I get you a drink?”
You didn’t particularly want to spend more time with him, but you couldn’t exactly brush him off. “I’m good, thanks.”
He raised an eyebrow at your response, clearly not used to being turned down. “Oh, come on. Just one drink. For old times’ sake?”
You hesitated. The history you shared with Jaehwan was complicated. You had been together for years, but it was always an exhausting cycle of breaking up and making up, seeing other people in the middle, until one day, you simply couldn’t do it anymore.
“Honestly, Jaehwan, I’m not interested in reminiscing right now,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light but firm. “I’m just here to enjoy the party.”
Jaehwan didn’t seem put off by your words. Instead, his grin only grew. “You’re still as beautiful as ever, you know?” He leaned in just a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “I’ve seen you in the news and in interviews, but you’re even more stunning in person.”
Your eyes flicked away, trying to avoid the lingering gaze that made you uncomfortable. “Thanks,” you said, though you didn’t quite mean it. “I should get back to Yeosang.”
Before you could step away, Jaehwan reached out, gently placing a hand on your arm. “You know, I never understood why we ended things. We were so good together, Y/N.” His voice was soft, almost coaxing, as though trying to reopen a door you had carefully shut.
You stiffened, feeling your chest tighten. “We weren’t good together. Not in the long run.”
Jaehwan’s expression faltered slightly, but only for a second. “You’re still holding onto that, huh?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “I thought we were past it. You never gave me a real chance to explain.”
You looked him square in the eyes, your heart racing. “There’s nothing to explain, Jaehwan. We both know how it ended. And why.”
His face softened for a moment, the charm slipping, replaced by something more genuine. “I was an idiot, Y/N. I know that now. I shouldn’t have played with your feelings like I did.” He paused, searching your face as if trying to read you. “But I’m here now. If you want to talk, start fresh... I’m open to it.”
You exhaled slowly, feeling your frustration rise again. You’d put so much energy into moving on from him, and here he was, trying to pull you back into his orbit. “I don’t want to start fresh, Jaehwan. I’ve moved on. I’m not interested in going backwards.”
His face tightened, though his smile never completely disappeared. “That’s a shame. I always thought we had something special.”
You shook your head, stepping back slightly, creating some distance. “We did. But that was a long time ago.”
As you took a step back to leave the conversation behind, Jaehwan called out, his voice softer than before. “I’ll always be here if you change your mind, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”
You turned on your heel, walking toward the other side of the bar, not wanting to hear any more. It had been a long time since you’d seen him, but the feelings his presence stirred up were all too familiar—frustration, confusion, and that lingering sense of unresolved tension. But you reminded yourself that it was okay. It was okay to feel whatever you felt. Six years of being with someone is a long time.
Meanwhile, across the bar, Seonghwa had noticed the exchange from a distance. He stood talking to Mingi, San, and Jongho, but his eyes kept flicking over to where you were conversing with Jaehwan.
“Who was that guy with Y/N? Seems familiar.” Seonghwa asked casually, though there was a slight edge to his tone.
Mingi followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s Jaehwan. He’s a doctor, works with Yeosang. He and Y/N used to date... for a long time, actually.”
Seonghwa’s lips tightened. “Oh. That was the guy?” He knew you were dating someone previously, but he didn’t really ask Hongjoong for any details before, and Hongjoong never told him anything about it. You kept your relationship strictly private, so there were no articles about this either,
San, ever the one to offer the juicy details, spoke up. “Yeah, they were on and off for years. Six years, I think. But they finally broke up for good. Y/N’s pretty done with him.”
Seonghwa’s gaze darkened as he watched Jaehwan take a step closer to you to talk to you again, leaning in just a bit too much for his liking. “I see. And he thinks he has a chance?”
Jongho raised an eyebrow, surprised by the fact that Seonghwa was concerned about you. “Sounds like it. But I wouldn’t worry too much, Seonghwa. Y/N doesn’t seem interested in going back down that road.”
Seonghwa didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still trained on you, the lines of his jaw tightening ever so slightly.
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he muttered under his breath, his focus now entirely on the conversation unfolding between you and Jaehwan.
You were trying to shake off the lingering tension from your conversation with Jaehwan when you turned to the bartender and ordered a blowjob shot, hoping the sweet, creamy taste would ease your nerves.
Jaehwan, however, wasn’t finished. He leaned in again, the subtle scent of cologne still lingering around him. "I still don't understand, Y/N," he said with a low chuckle. "You and I could make it work again. I mean, we've always had chemistry, right?"
You gave him a tight smile, the first sip of the shot barely numbing the irritation bubbling in your chest. "Jaehwan, I told you already. I don’t think this is going to work out. Let’s just leave it at that."
But Jaehwan wasn't ready to let go. "Come on, you can’t just throw away everything we had. I know you still feel something, Y/N." His hand brushed your arm, a touch too familiar, and you fought the urge to pull away.
Seonghwa had enough, and he made his way through the crowd. He moved with purpose, his sharp gaze landing on you and Jaehwan, his posture stiff with a quiet authority that demanded attention.
Jaehwan, oblivious to Seonghwa's growing irritation, smiled as he leaned a little closer to you. "I know you and I had our issues, but—"
Seonghwa’s voice interrupted him, smooth yet firm. "I think you’ve had enough time with my fiancée."
You froze, Jaehwan blinking in surprise. “Fiancée?” He glanced from Seonghwa to you, confusion and curiosity in his eyes. “Wait, since when are you two—”
Without waiting for a response, Seonghwa took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Jaehwan. But it was his attention on you that made your heart skip a beat. As you took another sip of the shot, a small smear of whipped cream lingered on your bottom lip.
Seonghwa noticed, and before you could react, he reached forward, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip to wipe away the cream. His touch was tender but purposeful, his gaze never leaving yours.
Jaehwan’s eyes widened in disbelief, clearly caught off guard by the intimate gesture. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, his posture stiffening as he tried to regain some control of the situation. “Who are you, again?”
Seonghwa’s voice was cool, yet there was a hint of something protective behind it. "I’m Park Seonghwa. Y/N’s fiancé." He didn’t give Jaehwan a chance to respond before adding, "We haven’t made our relationship public yet."
Jaehwan’s gaze flicked to your hand, taking note of the lack of a ring. "But… there’s no ring," he remarked, his voice edged with confusion. "Is this some kind of… business arrangement?"
Seonghwa’s lips curved into a slight smirk, the tension between them almost palpable. "Like I said, our relationship isn’t public yet," he said coolly, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before returning to Jaehwan. "We’re keeping things under wraps for now."
Jaehwan stood there, stunned and silent, his gaze shifting from Seonghwa back to you, as if trying to piece together the situation. He clearly hadn’t expected this turn of events, and his earlier confidence had evaporated, replaced by a mix of surprise and frustration.
You, on the other hand, found yourself caught in a strange moment of both relief and discomfort. Seonghwa’s intervention had put an end to Jaehwan’s persistence, but it also dragged you into a deeper web of lies you weren’t sure you were ready to untangle.
"Well," Jaehwan said after a long pause, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, "I’ll let you two be, then. Enjoy the party, Y/N." With that, he turned and walked off, leaving you and Seonghwa alone once again.
The atmosphere between you and Seonghwa felt heavy, and as much as you wanted to keep a cool, composed exterior, you couldn’t shake the tension in the air. Seonghwa had taken control of the situation, but now, it seemed like there were even more unspoken words hanging between you two.
Seonghwa didn’t immediately speak, but when he did, his voice was quieter, almost amused. "You’re welcome."
You shot him a look, not sure whether you should thank him or be frustrated. "What was that all about?"
Seonghwa shrugged, his expression unreadable. "He was getting too comfortable. You shouldn’t have to deal with that."
You couldn’t argue with that, though it still left a bad taste in your mouth. "You didn’t have to step in like that."
He tilted his head, his eyes softening for a brief moment. "I know, but I wanted to. And I’ll do it again if I have to."
You let out a small sigh, your heart fluttering in a way that confused you. The night wasn’t what you expected, but somehow, you weren’t sure you minded it as much as you thought you would.
Seonghwa turned toward the bar, signaling for another drink. "Come on, you need to enjoy the rest of the party. And besides, you can’t have your ex running around ruining your night."
Two shots later, followed by a series of light-hearted conversations with various people, and the buzz from the alcohol was finally starting to set in. The warmth spread through your body, making your head feel lighter, the edges of your thoughts blurring slightly. You leaned back in your seat, your laughter ringing a little louder than you intended, but for once, you didn’t mind. You could feel the weight of the night slowly drifting away, the constant tension easing off your shoulders.
Realizing you needed a break, you excused yourself from the crowd and made your way to the restroom. The cool air of the bar’s hallway seemed to clear your head for a moment, and when you returned, you didn’t feel quite as dizzy as before. You spotted the balcony just ahead, where a few people were gathered, some leaning over the railing, smoking and chatting. The fresh air felt good against your skin, and you welcomed the solitude, a brief reprieve from the noise inside.
You pulled out your phone, unlocking it and glancing at the screen. Yeri’s message was waiting for you.
Yeri: How’s everything going? Are you okay?
You couldn’t help but smile at her caring tone. You quickly typed your response:
You: I’m good. Just needed some air. It’s been a lot tonight, but I’m managing. I'll tell you everything later.
After sending the message, you leaned against the railing, letting the cool breeze calm your senses. The bustling sounds from the bar seemed far away, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the moment of peace sink in.
But of course, peace never lasted long.
You heard footsteps approaching, and before you could turn around, Seonghwa’s voice reached you, smooth and just a little concerned. "You okay out here?"
You opened your eyes and glanced at him. He stood just behind you, his posture relaxed but his eyes watching you closely, as though taking stock of your every movement. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the sheer intensity of the situation, but you felt suddenly bold—bold in a way you hadn’t felt in a while.
"Yeah, just needed a break from all the...," you trailed off, glancing back towards the loud, crowded bar. "Everything." You laughed softly, then, almost to yourself. "It’s kind of overwhelming."
Seonghwa nodded, stepping closer, the space between you narrowing slightly. "I get it. But you should be careful. You’ve had a few drinks tonight." His voice was softer now, gentler, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes.
You tilted your head, meeting his gaze directly, a flicker of challenge lighting your chest. "What, you think I can’t handle a couple of drinks?" The words were a little sharper than you intended, but the alcohol had given you the courage to tease him in a way you wouldn't normally do.
He smirked, his lips curving upward in that way that made your heart skip. "I’m not worried about you handling them," he replied, voice low and laced with something unreadable. "I’m just worried you might get too comfortable."
Your breath caught for a moment. It wasn’t the first time you had noticed how close he was now, his presence almost tangible, like he was becoming a part of the space you occupied. The air between you seemed to thicken, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, the buzz of the party a distant hum.
"Too comfortable?" you repeated, feeling the boldness rise within you like a wave. You took a step closer to him, unconsciously closing the distance, your eyes scanning his face, trying to decipher the sudden shift in his expression. "And why would that be a problem?"
Seonghwa’s eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to meet your gaze. The tension between you two felt palpable, like an invisible thread pulling you closer despite the divide you tried to maintain. He didn’t answer immediately, his silence only making the moment more charged, more electric.
"You’re a lot different when you’re not all business," he said quietly, the playful edge of his voice barely masking the undercurrent of something else. "Maybe I’m starting to see the real you, Y/N."
Your heart raced at the comment, and you felt your breath hitch in your chest. The alcohol had loosened your inhibitions, but there was something about the way Seonghwa spoke, something about the way he was looking at you, that made you forget for a moment why you were supposed to stay guarded.
You leaned in slightly, your eyes locked with his, and a teasing smile spread across your face. "Maybe you like what you’re seeing."
The words came out almost too easily, the playful challenge in your tone not entirely fake. You could feel your pulse quickening, the thrill of the moment swirling around you.
Seonghwa's eyes darkened just a shade, his lips curling into a smile that was both amused and intrigued. "I think you're right," he said, his voice low, as though he was daring you to take the next step, to push the boundaries further.
For a heartbeat, you two stood there, neither of you moving, the tension thick and humming between you. You had no idea where this was going, no clue what would happen next, but you knew one thing for sure: you were no longer just playing along. Tonight felt different. And the way Seonghwa was looking at you—it seemed like he felt it too.
The moment hung in the air, electric and heady, as the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background. You were suddenly aware of how close Seonghwa was, how much you could feel the heat of his body, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled deeply. Without thinking, you moved, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there was barely any space between the two of you. His breath hitched slightly at the closeness, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
"Why are we always in this situation when we've had a couple of drinks?" you asked, your voice quieter now, a bit more vulnerable. You could feel the weight of your words, the tension that had been building between you and him finally reaching its peak.
Seonghwa took a deep breath, his hands resting gently on your waist, and you felt a surge of something stronger—something that made you tilt your head just slightly, brushing your lips against his. "You're not going to want me if I make a move," you said, your voice lower, almost a warning.
"I've always wanted you," he whispered against your mouth.
For a moment, everything seemed to stand still—the world, the music, the people inside the bar—all faded away, leaving only the two of you standing in the cool night air. But then, just as quickly, you pulled back, your breath unsteady, your heart pounding harder than it had a moment ago.
"I'm not falling for that," you said, your voice strained, almost harsh, as if you were trying to distance yourself from the vulnerability that had crept in.
Seonghwa’s expression faltered slightly, and he reached out to touch your arm, as if trying to stop you from pulling away further. But you were already taking a step back, and you could see the hurt flash in his eyes, the confusion.
"I don’t want to resent you more," you whispered, your voice small, almost fragile. The words were like a knife to your chest, and as soon as they left your lips, you regretted saying them. The hurt was suddenly evident in your eyes, and the alcohol that had fueled your boldness before was now making everything seem more raw, more real.
Seonghwa’s eyes widened, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. But no words came, just the heavy silence that fell between you two. For a moment, you thought he might try to reach for you again, but you turned away, already feeling the sting of regret that followed your confession.
You didn’t wait for him to speak. You just turned and left him standing there, the cool night air around you suddenly feeling colder than it had before. You didn’t know what you expected from him, but what you knew for sure was that you needed to get away from this—away from the tension, the confusion, and the feelings that had begun to resurface.
You quickly made your way back to the entrance of the bar, trying to keep your composure. As you stepped inside, you spotted Hongjoong in the crowd, chatting with a few people near the bar. The moment he saw you, his eyes softened with concern.
"Ready to go?" he asked, his voice gentle.
You nodded, trying to mask the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Yeah. Let's go home," you said, your voice quieter than usual. You didn’t look back at Seonghwa, though you could feel his presence lingering in the back of your mind, heavy and unrelenting.
As you and Hongjoong made your way out of the bar after saying your goodbyes to your friends, you tried to shake off the weight of what had just happened. You didn’t know how to feel about Seonghwa anymore, nor about the admission that had slipped from your lips.
-x-x-x-
End of Part One.
𓇼 𝐏𝟏𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𓇼 𓆞 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𓆞 𓇼 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬/𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬/𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𓇼 𓇼 𝐨𝐭𝟔/𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Another P1 Member Sends You A Photo Of Your P1 Boyfriend Trend - @vampirehoon ot6 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Call Me Maybe - @hksool ot6 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hands Off - @/hrts4kyo bf!intak x reader x keeho (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hey, It's Me - @nishibons ot6 x reader (texts/thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 P1harmony And The Coquette Boyfriend Trend - @kisseobie ot6 x reader (reactions) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 P1harmony As your Bestfriends (Them Crushing On You) - @kyosopp ot6 x reader (headcanons) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐨 𓇼 𓆞 Baby All Mine - @joocomics streamer!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cinnamon Banana Pancakes - @kyufessions bf!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Close To You - @ldhluvr academic rival!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 I Told You To Stay Still - @ratedfleur non-idol!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Let Me Take Care Of You - @ohmyujins bf!keeho x reader (headcanons) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Taking Pictures In The Mirror - @seobslatina non-idol!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨) 𓇼 𓆞 2Nite - @/hrts4kyo non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Be Better - @/348kg non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Don't Let Me Lose You - @junhannies non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Drive Me Crazy - @woobly non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 I Look At You Like You're Perfect For Me - @lily-blue half-dark elf!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Kiss It Off Me - @yyawnjun best friend!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
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