𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯

THIS IS SO GOOD! I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART! <3

Shadows Behind Shelves (PART 1)

SUMMARY | You, a literature professor turned governess, is settling into your role at the Jeong castle and developing feelings for both the lord, Yunho, and his cousin, Jongho.  You soon learn that the castle is haunted by a spirit who desires to be resurrected and take over your body.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  Smut, historical fantasy au, paranormal, dark academia, fluff, angst, drama

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  mentions of death/curses/resurrection, a creepy ghost, fingering, clothes ripping, oral sex, unprotective sex (wrap it up!), lovemaking instead of fucking (more to come in part 2)

LENGTH | 15,012 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @ksmutsociety @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Soooooooo… This is for @ksmutsociety network's The Velvet Vault event! I'm looking forward to reading all the participant's fics since we all worked so hard for this. It was nice to work with everyone and hype each other and exchange ideas. Love you folks!

Here's part 1 of this 2-part fic lol. It was getting too long (and the brain stopped braining at some point). I hope it's engaging enough that you return for part 2, which is in the works! And yes, more smut in part 2 (for Jongho and maybe a threesome LOL)

Thank you @cheolism for the beautiful banner, @hobeemin for the amazing moodboard (below) to keep my inspo in check and @lovetaroandtaemin for the beta-read as always! You guys are amazing folk!

Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚

“Well, I’m finally here,” you mutter as you look at the enormous castle that looms overhead. 

You had been traveling to get here for some time and your body ached from the long journey. However, now that you were in the presence of the magnificent building, you felt like you couldn’t stop and rest just yet. You thought it was weird when a reclusive lord wrote to you, a professor at a prestigious university, and requested that you be his children’s governess. He must’ve thought you were qualified because you were a literature professor and had read a lot of books, which were important for teaching children. However, there were no references, and no one had heard of the family or this lord that was writing the letter. Yet, you decided to take the job for your own personal reasons.

You were leaving your life from the modern world and everything that was associated with it.

It wasn’t hard for you to leave everything behind. You didn’t have friends, and no one would come to look for you if you disappeared. When you were not teaching students, you spent your life in the company of books. They were the only thing that made you happy and the only things that had stayed constant throughout your life. That was the main reason you agreed to work for this strange lord, because you had heard that his castle was filled with the greatest works of literature.

As you approached the front doors, you noticed how the windows were dark, no light was coming through. Was everyone asleep? The castle seemed eerie in the night, and you had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. You tried to shake those feelings away, knowing that this was not the time to get spooked. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Upon arriving at the front door, you knocked and patiently awaited a response. Your heart raced, anticipation gnawing at you. After no one answered, you tried again, knocking louder this time. You wouldn’t have traveled this far without wanting an answer. On the verge of quitting and finding rest, the door, as if beckoning, slowly opened, urging you to enter. You paused, torn between entering and leaving, ultimately deciding that it was rude to depart without a word.

“Hello, is anyone home?” You shouted as you walked inside, hoping someone would answer.

No one came to greet you, but the sound of the wind echoed in the empty halls. There was no need to be scared. You were hardly scared of things that you didn’t understand, but this place had an air of mystery that made you uneasy. It felt like there was someone else in the house, watching your every move. The only lights came from the torches along the wall, but their light did little to ease the darkness.

“Lord Jeong, are you here?” You called out. You knew it was late, and he might be asleep, but you needed someone to answer you. “My name is Y/N. I am the new governess that you hired.”

Again, no one answered you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You had hoped that someone would’ve met you, but the lack of answers and the emptiness of the castle made you uneasy. You made your way down the hall to see if there was anyone awake. Maybe the servants were still awake, doing last-minute chores before going to bed. You hoped to find someone that could tell you where you could sleep.

You didn’t have a plan or anywhere else to go.

As you walked through the hallways, you noticed how the walls were lined with portraits. The people in the paintings all looked so beautiful, even if they were old and dust had covered their faces. However, it was odd that the portraits seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though the hallway was not very long. You thought about wiping the dust off to see the faces, but you decided not to since they were not yours.

Your eyes wandered down and saw the many artifacts that were also lined up on the walls. There were old swords, shields, and even some strange-looking guns. As a literature professor, you couldn’t help but be curious about what those weapons were used for. The stories of these things would make for interesting research.

You were so distracted by the many relics on the walls that you didn’t notice a figure moving swiftly towards you until it was too late. Something cold grabbed onto your arm and you turned to see a pale hand gripping you. You screamed and tried to break free, but the grip was so strong, it was almost as if it was draining the life from your body. You turned and saw the face of a beautiful man, who looked at you with wide eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here. The doors should’ve been locked,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He had a stern face, his sharp eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He wore a fancy suit and looked to be in his late twenties, but his age didn’t match his youthful features.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m the new governess, and the doors just opened by themselves!” You cried. 

The man let go of you and you stepped back, trying to get away from him. You could tell that he was the master of the house, and you didn’t want to anger him. You were not the kind of person to yell at others, especially your employer, but his sudden appearance and tight grip were enough to make anyone lose their composure.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m Jeong Yunho, the lord of the castle,” he apologized, his face softening. He seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t speak often, and you found his voice comforting. “It is very late, and I was just startled. I didn’t expect anyone to come to the door at this hour. Please, forgive me for frightening you.”

“It’s fine. I am just a little shaken up,” you said, trying to calm down. You didn’t want to admit it, but his sudden appearance had frightened you. And that said a lot since you were scarcely afraid of anything.

“Come, let’s get you settled,” he gestured to follow him. “I will take you to your room.”

You followed him, still wondering what had just happened. The house was dark, no light was coming from the rooms. You wondered why the lord would keep the lights off at this hour. You also noticed how silent it was. There were no voices, no sounds at all. You didn’t think you had traveled far enough for this place to be abandoned, but it certainly felt that way.

Yunho stopped at a door and opened it. “This will be your room while you are here.”

The room was very elegant, decorated in various shades of blue. There was a large four-poster bed with a canopy, a dresser, a vanity, and a bookshelf. The shelves were full of books, just like the ones you had read. You were relieved to know that there would be something familiar for you to do.

“Please get some sleep,” Yunho nodded at you slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll tour the castle and introduce you to the staff and the children.”

“Thank you, Lord Jeong. Goodnight,” you curtsied and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

You were exhausted, so you quickly took off your shoes and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft and smelled nice, like fresh laundry. It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep. As you lay there, you thought about the castle, the servants, and the children. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of whispering, as if the voices were coming from the walls themselves.

The next morning, you woke up early, eager to start the day. The first thing you did was get dressed and head downstairs to the dining hall. When you arrived, the servants were already bustling around, preparing the table and setting out the food. They were all wearing the same outfit: black uniforms with white aprons, their hair neatly combed back.

The table was set, and you sat down, waiting for the rest of the household to arrive. Soon, you were joined by Yunho, who greeted you politely. The man was dressed in a black suit, and his hair was perfectly styled. He looked so regal, but his face was emotionless, his mouth pulled into a straight line. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than he was.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was deep and commanding, but there was no hint of malice in it.

“Good morning, Lord Jeong. I’m well,” you answered. “Is the rest of the household going to join us?”

“They are busy with their own duties,” Yunho responded. “We will tour the castle later today, but I would like to discuss the duties you will have while you are here. First, your primary task will be the education and care of the children. They have not had a governess for a few months and they are at the age where they should learn and be educated.”

“Of course. As a professor of the literary arts, I will make sure to teach them everything they need to know,” you responded. You were excited to have a chance to teach someone, especially young minds. “Will I also be in charge of their daily routines?”

“Yes, their daily routine and their discipline as well,” he continued. “You will have your own schedule and free time, so do not feel as if you are confined to this castle. You are welcome to go out and explore the town or the grounds. There are plenty of beautiful places for you to see. In the meantime, the staff will continue their duties and will help you with anything you need. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I will, thank you, Lord Jeong,” you said, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice.

“Just call me Yunho,” he said, his face softening a bit.

“Yunho,” you said, testing his name out. You liked the way it sounded.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin the tour,” he stood up and led you out of the dining room.

As the two of you walked through the halls, Yunho pointed out different rooms, explaining what they were used for. You saw a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlor, and even a billiard room. There were other rooms as well, but you couldn’t remember what they were. You tried to listen carefully to everything that Yunho was telling you, but your mind was elsewhere. The castle was so grand, and the interior was so intricate.

You had never seen anything like it.

You were shown the ballroom, a music room, and even an observatory. Everything was so grand and it all overwhelmed you. Yunho told you more about his family and the history of the castle. 

You learned that the castle had been built a hundred years ago, when Yunho’s ancestors had moved to this land. The estate had been passed down through generations and was the source of pride for the Jeongs. However, the family had lost many members, and the last one was Yunho’s late wife.

“And this is the grand library,” Yunho said, standing in front of the double doors. The doors were massive, carved with intricate designs. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them.

“I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” you said, stepping forward and grabbing the handle.

“No!” Yunho yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from the door. “No one is allowed in the grand library.”

“Why not?” You asked, confused. You were curious about the books and wanted to explore the grand library.

“Those books are too dangerous. They are filled with stories and tales that could corrupt the mind and the soul,” Yunho replied, his tone serious. “They are the reason my late wife is dead.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could books be dangerous? You knew there were some books that could be scary, but those were fiction. These were books, not demons or monsters. You didn’t understand why they were kept locked away.

“Please, Miss Y/N. Don’t ask me to open the doors. I’ve lost too much already,” Yunho begged. His eyes were pleading with you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were a scholar of literature, and the idea of being banned from reading books was painful. It was in your nature to be curious, and you wanted to find out why the library was locked. But you didn’t want to upset Yunho or lose the job that you haven’t even started yet.

“There is a smaller library for you to use with the children,” Yunho assured you. “You can read anything in there. Just please, don’t ask me to open these doors again.”

You nodded your head in understanding, and Yunho seemed to relax. You wished you could’ve said something, but it was pointless to argue with him. The mystery of the grand library would remain unknown to you. Still, your mind raced with curiosity. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to see the forbidden books. Perhaps it was because you were a scholar, but you needed to understand. You needed to learn the truth, no matter what the cost.

“Thank you, Yunho. I will keep your advice in mind,” you replied. Your heart raced with thoughts about the library and the possibility of learning the secrets that were hidden behind those doors. As long as you were here, there would be no escaping the desire to learn more. You knew that would get you into trouble someday. That was just a part of who you were.

After finishing the tour, Yunho led you to the children who were outside in the courtyard playing. As you neared the children, you noticed a man in casual clothes who appeared to be a groundskeeper or something of the sort. You noted his appearance, thinking he looked handsome. As you and Yunho entered the courtyard, the children came running to greet him, calling out ‘Daddy!’. Despite his age, Yunho lifted all three children as they tried to hug him and spin them around in his arms. His gaze softened as he embraced each child. His stern demeanor was nowhere to be seen. 

When he put them down, Yunho introduced you as the new governess. The children hid behind their father, whispering to him about how pretty you were. You giggled slightly, finding their reaction endearing, and it made you less nervous about taking the job. Yunho chastised the children, and they soon came out of their hiding, shyly offering you their introductions. Yunho introduced you first to his son, Yujin, who had turned five, then to his daughters, four-year-old Suyeon and three-year-old Sujin. You kneeled and greeted them politely. The children immediately attached themselves to you, clutching to you and introducing themselves. While this wasn’t a simple task for you as someone new, you could feel their excitement as they began to speak to you about their interests and their favorite toys.

Yunho sent them off to play once more after confirming when their lessons would start the following morning. The man you assumed to be a groundskeeper watched the interaction between you, the kids, and Yunho. As the children ran off and resumed their playing, the young man stepped forward, offering you a friendly smile. You watched curiously, noticing his youthful appearance. He couldn’t have been that much older than yourself.

“Welcome, miss,” he said. “I’m Choi Jongho, the lord’s cousin and the groundskeeper here. Though I help out with other matters within the castle as well.”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” you smiled, extending a hand out which the young man took firmly, shaking it. You couldn’t imagine that a man of his age could maintain a property as extensive as the Jeong castle. “I hope we will get to spend some time together since I’m the new governess for the Jeong children. Are you their only groundskeeper?”

Jongho released your hand with a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s not a simple job, but someone has to take care of things here, am I right? Besides, the estate means everything to Mr. Jeong, and I care deeply about it as well. He trusts me fully, and that’s a blessing.”

The young man’s tone was genuine and laced with kindness. Jongho carried himself with an ease that reassured you as well. Something about the young man felt safe.

“He’s very nice and has already been treating me quite well,” you mentioned as Yunho joined you two, the children having returned to their previous activities, oblivious to the world around them.

“The staff here all admire and respect Lord Yunho, as he deserves,” Jongho said. “The children are fortunate to have a father so dedicated to them.”

You glanced at the lord who held a similar expression to Jongho, the two staring back at the children, no doubt sharing the same thoughts. You would be lying if you didn’t admit the warmth spreading in your chest from the image. Yunho was gentle with the children, and it made you feel good about taking the job despite the secrets locked within the castle. You still didn’t quite understand what the books could contain, but chose to ignore the curiosity for the time being. Yunho already trusted you enough to open up, revealing some of his past, even if it did spark more questions than answers.

The three of you remained in the courtyard watching the children until they came running toward you again, nearly jumping into their father’s arms. Yunho spun them in circles before lifting Sujin and carrying her back towards the house.

“I better start getting Sujin cleaned for her supper,” he said to the remaining party. “Come on, children.”

Sujin was quick to wiggle in her father’s grasp, as she clearly wanted to walk. “Papa! Down!” she giggled as Yunho lowered her and followed her and the children back inside the castle.

Jongho and you watched as the Jeongs walked off, chuckling slightly in the wake of the energetic kids and Yunho. When Yunho’s silhouette had disappeared, you looked back at Jongho with a bright smile on your face, admiring how the sun hit his skin to accentuate his handsome features. The young man was incredibly attractive, and you hoped you’d get to spend more time with him while working at the castle.

“Well then,” Jongho rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted his stance, “I will go back to tending the grounds. If you need me for anything, you just have to ask. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/N. I really hope we get to spend some time together in the future. Take care of yourself.”

Before you had the chance to respond, Jongho placed his hat on his head and promptly headed for the gardens. There was a skip in his steps, something you couldn’t help but notice as you watched him make his way through the expansive yard. For a man that was around your age and appearance, you expected him to be a little less excited about his chores and duties, especially given the size and maintenance requirements. You almost expected him to have complained a little about being a servant, but he didn’t appear to have any issue with it. This intrigued you even more, giving you reason to pay him more attention in the coming days.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, the maids began setting tables for dinner. With Yunho preoccupied with the children and Jongho busy elsewhere, you decided to explore the grounds for some fresh air. The castle grounds were spacious, and it was important to take some time to explore the vast space. Besides, if you were going to be staying at the castle for some time, it was good to familiarize yourself with everything. You didn’t want to get lost in the castle, since you would no doubt become easily disoriented among the winding halls. The grounds also would be the best place to familiarize yourself. You should have started earlier since now the sun was fading and darkness was settling into place. You hoped to be back within an hour as dinnertime was approaching fast.

Despite the castle being eerily ominous and quite frightening when you saw it last night, it looked gorgeous bathed in sunlight during the day. You couldn’t resist letting your imagination roam about as you strolled around the premises. You imagined a heroine escaping through the open space while wearing a beautiful silk dress. You envisioned her making her way across a stone pathway and into an emerald garden filled with vivid plants and flowers. This reminded you that the castle did seem out of place for being located in a dense forest in the mountains, isolated by many miles. It was fascinating and beautiful in the daytime. Now that the sun had fallen below the horizon, and you couldn’t enjoy the sights, it gave the castle a darker feeling.

On your explorations around the castle, you heard noises that sounded like muffled conversations. However, when you’d check, nothing and nobody would be there. Peeking in the windows and circling around the grounds, you heard these strange noises coming from the castle itself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to explore on your own.

You made your way towards one bench on the property to catch your breath. You were starting to wonder whether the noises you had heard before were perhaps nothing more than simple tricks of the mind or maybe a nearby village. You sat back on the wooden bench with a heavy sigh escaping your chest.

The sounds coming from the castle continued to grow louder. Soon, there would be nothing but utter silence surrounding it again. You thought about making your way back towards the entrance. Yet the mystery of the unknown voices calling out to you kept drawing you back in. You wanted to discover the truth about them. Was there someone or something lingering behind these walls? Was it just an old building creating these peculiar noises? Or had the wind simply picked up slightly to produce such abnormal vibrations? There was no way of telling what had been causing it and you were beginning to wish you hadn’t even considered searching. The only thing left was for you to leave without learning a thing and return safely inside the castle to enjoy the warm fires of the dining area. You stood up but were startled by the sight of a figure that appeared next to the gates and your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Ah!” you gasped in surprise, quickly jumping backwards to avoid falling to the ground. 

You blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness from your eyes. Surely, there couldn’t be any person standing there, right? You looked over at the gates again, but there was no one there. You scanned the area for any movement or sign of a living being but could see nothing besides the trees, rocks, and bushes.

This was starting to freak you out. Sure, you knew that this was a possibility when you took the job, but you didn’t think that anything scary could’ve actually occurred at this location. And why were you getting such a creepy vibe from this part of the castle’s property? Something just seemed different about it somehow.

With a firm shake of your head, you straightened your posture and cleared your mind before heading back inside the castle to take your seat for supper. If you were to do any more exploring, it would be done on the next day with a proper guide. Perhaps asking Jongho to tour the entire grounds would not be a bad idea, since he would undoubtedly be more familiar with the details and stories surrounding the castle. For now, you’d eat dinner, bathe yourself and retire to sleep. This was already enough of a scary encounter, but you wouldn’t let it keep you awake at night, especially on the first evening you arrived.

It had been a few weeks since you’ve become a governess for the children. The kids woke you up in a cheerful mood and eager for lessons. You found yourself sitting in the garden again as you read stories with the kids and watched their natural curiosity shining brightly. Yujin and Suyeon seemed excited but also overwhelmed by the amount of information in the books. For now, you preferred keeping the story to short tales, careful to stick to the knowledge level and time frame necessary to keep them interested. There’d be time later to teach them more complex ideas.

It felt good teaching the children and guiding them. They were quick learners and always happy. The weather was perfect and sunny. The roses and the wildflowers that lined the path leading towards the garden swayed softly in the gentle wind. The smell of nature surrounded you as it filled the air with its sweet fragrance. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the trees above the children. All three of them had their gazes pointed towards the book as if they were focused intensely. After you finished the first reading, the three began discussing amongst themselves about what story they would ask for next. You sat quietly with a grin stretched across your lips.

What adorable little devils.

Their enthusiasm inspired you further to be the best teacher you possibly could, determined to always bring out their best traits and encourage their development. Every bit of work counted towards reaching that goal. Once the day’s lesson ended, they skipped back inside the castle and up towards their rooms. You turned around in the direction from which the footsteps had come and watched Yunho’s face as he walked closer towards you; the sun glistening off the gold buttons and linings in his attire. His eyes focused solely upon you.

“How was today’s class?” The question slipped from his lips smoothly.

“Perfect,” you responded. “These kids are so brilliant. I can tell their excitement was genuine.”

“Is that so?” Yunho asked. “Do you enjoy teaching them?”

You nodded quickly. “I definitely do. It’s definitely different teaching children compared to adult students, but I enjoy both. It’s refreshing. When my lessons finish, I look forward to their little questions. It makes the entire process worth it.”

Yunho hummed his response as the sound echoed around the two of you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you and you noticed the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. A faint blush formed on his cheeks and you blushed at the realization that he was staring back at you, holding your gaze.

“Would you like to join me in my study?” Yunho asked. “Since we are both professors, you in literature and I in art, perhaps I might entertain you with tales of art and literature from times long forgotten and stories you have yet to hear.”  

A tingle ran down your spine from the seductive tone in which he spoke. Never had you heard Yunho sound like this before, but it seemed as if he was offering an invitation you could not refuse. Not that you would have declined it, either. With an eager nod, you rose and allowed yourself to be escorted towards his study.

As you followed him into the massive room and the double-door was shut behind you, Yunho lit the fireplace, which immediately filled the space with heat. The flame reflected off his glasses, his eyes twinkling in the light. When your attention shifted to the room’s furnishings, you found yourself gazing at the stunning fireplace and intricate gold filigree work. It was breathtaking. You turned back toward him, wanting to ask him about its design and purpose in his home.

His fingers danced gracefully across the leather-bound book that he had retrieved and placed before him on a polished oak table, running the tips of them over the smooth texture. It must have been quite old. Probably there’d be hundreds of pieces of knowledge written inside of that volume which could answer questions, solve problems or even make predictions.

“This book has been handed down through generations in the Jeong line and is very precious. Many members of the Jeongs have read it and learned its contents, adding to its importance.” With a satisfied smile, he slowly lifted his gaze back up towards you, speaking. “Would you like to read some?”

“I would love to,” you whispered breathlessly, barely containing yourself.

Yunho laughed deeply at how eager you sounded. He slid the book towards you and watched as you held onto the book with the care that only a well-loved treasure receives. “Well then, Miss Y/N, I would like to share its contents with you. It’s important to understand its origins and meanings in order to fully appreciate it.”

You examined the worn pages, observing the parchment-colored paper. It was bound with thin leather strips on both sides, revealing intricate designs etched into each page and carefully outlined. This wasn’t just an ordinary journal. It was a journal passed down by the Jeongs from generation to generation and filled with their histories and traditions.

You flipped through the pages carefully, noticing that every single piece contained drawings or diagrams with accompanying text describing their purpose. The picture of a traveler leaving his hometown followed a section entitled ‘Journey’. He stopped in front of an enormous mountain and stared straight ahead into nothingness, while standing still for the longest time. Finally, after a momentary pause, he moved forward and disappeared over the horizon. Under the picture, two simple lines had been inscribed: ‘To journey is to live’.

Then the traveler appeared again on another page; this time he appeared to be riding on the back of a horse. The caption read: ‘Traveling is to expand your horizons’ and under it there were more words in small font size: ‘He who sees the world differently is no stranger, but a friend.’ You chuckled slightly, finding a kindred spirit with those lines written in cursive. It reminded you of your own experiences in college and the fact that everyone saw the world through a different lens.

“What do you think?” Yunho leaned forward a bit and smiled at you with interest, curiosity and an open heart.

“I love it,” you confessed earnestly. Your gaze lowered back towards the open book and its contents while you gently stroked its edges with one hand. “Thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure.”

As soon as you said those words, Yunho laughed again in a sweet tone that warmed your soul and brought a smile to your lips.

“Perhaps you’ll join me again sometime,” his invitation rang clearly in the air as he motioned towards a stack of papers to his left. You couldn’t deny that the prospect made you feel quite excited, and you enthusiastically agreed. You needed no more encouragement, eagerly scanning the book once more before placing it gently upon his table.

“Yunho... are there any more journals you could let me read through?” you questioned carefully as his body relaxed against the leather seat, stretching out and closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“Possibly,” Yunho replied.

“Please? I promise I won’t go too far into your family secrets,” you joked lightly, causing him to grin widely while shaking his head in amusement.

“We all have our own histories and secrets. Though, you may be free to go through all journals that I possess if it will please you,” he teased playfully as his brown eyes glittered. The smile adorning his handsome face showed affection and perhaps even a hint of a hope that maybe one day you’d want to learn about all of his own hidden desires and passions. But for now, you contented yourself with merely exploring the knowledge held within these priceless volumes.

Before you realized it, an hour had flown by. The sounds outside grew quieter as dusk fell, yet neither you nor Yunho dared to stir. Both lost in thoughts about the history of the Jeongs and their stories, it took you by surprise when the door swung wide open, revealing Jongho in a state of clear discomfort. The corners of his usually bright eyes crinkled up nervously, but, he managed to speak without faltering.

“I... I need to talk to the Lord for a moment,” his voice was hoarse and his speech slower than usual. You could almost feel his anxiety and worry radiating through the room.

“I understand,” you politely excused yourself while leaving the book where it laid before standing up to exit his office. “Thank you again, Yunho. For showing me some of the journals.”

“Certainly,” Yunho replied. He appeared relieved, seemingly happy about being able to assist you. “I hope it will provide enjoyment during the upcoming days.”

With one last appreciative glance, you exited and closed the door.

“You showed her the journals?” Jongho asked once he was certain that you’d be out of earshot, staring at his boss intently. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yunho, are you sure-“

“I couldn’t help it,” Yunho muttered. His face darkened briefly, a hint of sadness slipping through the cracks of his typically cheery mask. “I had to. She looks too much like...”

His statement trailed off abruptly, but the implication was crystal clear to everyone within hearing distance. They knew what had been running through his mind. The young woman resembled so much of his dead lover. She was a spitting image, reminding him of those few precious days in which he was young and naïve, inexperienced in life and its cruelty, and thought love could overcome anything.

“I’m surprised that Miss Y/N looks like her,” Jongho whispered softly. “How is it possible?”

“I’m sure that her soul is back now to stay,” Yunho breathed deeply and stared straight ahead, his hands fidgeting. “No longer would we have to hear her restless soul wander and whisper among us, crying out our names.”

“You can’t possibly think of bringing her back. It’s too dangerous, not to mention it will be her end,” Jongho argued. “What if things go wrong and she never becomes alive? Are you going to sit idly by and wait forever? For something that could take place never? And if the spell is successful, do you expect Miss Y/N to walk alongside you without questions? You’re thinking of trading another soul to bring back your wife. Would she not end up suffering the same fate, if not worse?”

Yunho looked up at Jongho coldly. “Do you not understand how much it means to me to have her alive again? Even if only for a short period. She deserved it. We could have been so happy if not for everything else.”

“So you’re willing to hurt someone else in exchange for the woman you loved, hoping that maybe things will go back to the way things used to be,” Jongho continued his plea, “the late lady is gone. Miss Y/N deserves the opportunity of a complete life, free of any attachments from the past and all the horrible memories attached to them. You can’t expect to use those forbidden books to bring her back to life.” 

“I cannot continue on without her,” Yunho hissed. His brows knit together furiously as he fought against the rising anger within him. “Our children need their mother, my family and our legacy needs their daughter-in-law, and most importantly, I need my true love to return to me.”

“Think for a second, Yunho. Do you seriously believe the spirits of your children’s mother would be okay with sacrificing an innocent person to resurrect their dead mother?”

“You know what her ghost wants, Jongho,” Yunho groaned, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.

“Miss Y/N isn’t Lady Ara,” Jongho reminded him. “Lady Ara and Miss Y/N have completely different backgrounds, interests and personalities. Even if they share physical appearances, that is all.”

“I am aware. Believe me,” Yunho looked away with frustration evident in his voice. “I know that my wife is gone and that Miss Y/N is alive and well...”

“Yunho, why don’t you just fall for Miss Y/N instead and start over instead of hurting an innocent and beautiful person? Lady Ara’s soul may be gone, but that does not mean that you cannot find happiness without her again,” Jongho added quietly. “The children seem to love her, the staff love her. And I─”

He trailed off and shook his head slowly. Silence stretched between them as they considered everything before them.

“Yunho,” Jongho muttered eventually. “Think this through again before making any decisions. Even the dead are allowed a proper resting place. Is resurrecting their late mother really the best thing to do, especially if they cannot see or feel their mother, anyway? At least Miss Y/N is a breathing person that’s right in front of you.”

“I-I know,” Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts. A part of him already believed Jongho’s words. A bigger part, however, wanted his wife and only his wife. He could still vividly imagine his late wife’s soft smile and laughter, her warmth against his chest and kisses that reminded him of sunrises. Nothing compared to the love and affection she showed him and their little family. Everything in him ached with longing for her touch, her kiss, and her embrace again. If his spells worked successfully, she’d come back to him whole again and to spend the remaining years of his life together with him in bliss.

Yet another quiet voice in his head warned him against those foolish notions and dreams. How could it possibly be wrong when a pure soul was sacrificed to bring back the woman that was the cause for his and his children’s sorrows? Then again, was he truly sure he would gain exactly the results he desired and hoped for? Was bringing his dead wife back really the answer? Could it really fix their broken household? Or would he be nothing but a monster, bringing pain to others again?

“Does her ghost still haunt you?” Jongho probed as his friend remained deep in thought, hands interlocked before him.

“Yes, of course. All day long, I hear her pleas and whimpers,” the expression on Yunho’s face fell entirely at Jongho’s response. He sounded terribly drained. “Even after these three years? I’m glad that the staff can’t see her but the children... I’m sure they’re so scared.”

“Oh, she won’t go after the children, would she?” Jongho questioned worriedly. “Surely not.”

“Yes. You know, the only way that we can appease her and put her soul to rest,” Yunho mumbled. His eyes filled with regret as he sighed. “She... She won’t leave us alone unless we get her back.”

“Give yourself more time and think about things properly again. If nothing works, then so be it. If anything, let Lady Ara’s soul have peace and find its way towards eternal rest,” Jongho reminded him as kindly as he could. “I’ll look through the forbidden books again and write up a report for you.”

Yunho blinked at him blankly for a second. Slowly, understanding began dawning on him. Perhaps he really was overreacting slightly. Maybe his desire had caused him to temporarily lose his sanity. The idea of having her back, the ideal outcome for him, overwhelmed his entire being. Perhaps Jongho’s suggestion would lead him in the right direction. He needed to make a decision soon. For his own sake and his family’s sake.

“Okay,” he finally managed to say. “Okay.”

Jongho gave him another quick glance, almost hesitant before eventually saying his farewell. He wanted to lighten up the mood again, at the same time aware that it was pointless and the lord would most likely shut himself off until tomorrow morning. If there’s anything, he would help. Until then, he’d give the man some space.

As the heavy wooden door swung shut, Yunho slouched into the chair. A loud sigh escaped him. His mind still raced about a way of resurrecting her but also contemplated on the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jongho might have had a point. A faint glimmer of hope sparked within him. Maybe the feelings weren’t totally gone or completely destroyed after all.

He could start over. The opportunity of getting to know and falling for Miss Y/N did cross his mind more than once and her kind and soft personality was a contrast to that of Ara, though he couldn’t deny the way she could brighten the children’s days, as well as the staff’s and even his in such a short time was already refreshing. A bitter chuckle sounded, immediately drowned by the crackling sounds of the dying fire in front of him.

Jongho sighed, unable to hide his concerns. Not wanting the staff to sense something was off, he put on a straight face, ready to head out on another duty. Before leaving, he made sure to leave a small vase of fresh white roses, picked from his own garden and lovingly trimmed in an attempt to brighten Yunho’s room.

Only Jongho had seen through the dark magic he’s dabbled and accidentally cursed himself with, much to their horror, because the once sweet and optimistic lord, blinded by his obsession and desperate feelings towards his deceased wife had used forbidden knowledge no human should dare meddle in, only for it to bring tragedy and heartache upon himself. Yunho never expected the resurrection spell he chanted with so much optimism would end up turning the mansion upside down, that all of them, especially him, would end up experiencing agony so great and unending, until all that remained were only broken memories of his late wife.

The household went into mourning for many months after the spell. Everyone who met Yunho’s former wife adored her, and it had been so difficult seeing Yunho and his children suffer alone with her death. The staff tried to console them and reassure them that even the deepest wounds heal, but the way he fell into darkness left everyone speechless, even Jongho.

The previous three tutors resigned or retired prematurely because of stress and other concerns. None of them could ever reach out to their children enough to make a connection, and even when they did, they still had not figured out the dynamics well enough to work effectively with them. But ever since Miss Y/N had become the new governess of his beloved cousin’s children, his hope in them blossomed, watching their eyes slowly grow brighter with happiness and affection as the days went by.

To Jongho, Miss Y/N felt right for the job, from her enthusiasm when interacting with the young heirs of the Jeong family, to her eagerness to learn about everything regarding the Castle and surrounding area, especially the histories surrounding its location. He watched from the corners of the grounds and various windows to check up on the new governess during her daily routines, the way she seemed to enjoy teaching the children every bit of her knowledge while still allowing time to allow their innocence to flourish and their free spirits to grow and develop, how Miss Y/N willingly included them into discussions or other activities even if it seemed uninteresting to them, yet never forced the kids to do things they didn’t like, always encouraging. He cherished every smile on her sweet and gentle face.

Someday... perhaps... Jongho’s eyes lowered. Deep in his chest, something had changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was. Did his heart start beating differently? Did his breathing become shallower? Jongho shook his head, shaking the strange feelings away, even as the sense that something had already shifted, and would shift more. He pushed back his self-doubt and closed his eyes. There was no way that he could harbor feelings like these when his station would never allow him to have someone. Especially a woman of her standing.

Jongho brought a hand to his face, running it over his tired features.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. He thought his life was perfectly normal and steady. Until recently, there wasn’t anyone who seemed to capture his attention. He felt conflicted, but resolved that the feelings would surely vanish if he didn’t let himself think about them.

Jongho huffed and shook the feelings away. He knew there was no hope whatsoever, especially not at the moment when the lord’s future and reputation is in danger, where all hopes for him to recover are placed on the very governess he’s admired ever since she first arrived here, because she reminded him of the missing piece of Yunho’s broken puzzle: his dead wife.

“Dear god,” Jongho massaged his temples slowly with a deep sigh, unable to shake the image of her smile from his mind. He wondered whether he’d ever stop thinking about her. It’s not even been a week, and she’s already crept up inside his head. The possibilities worried him and sent shivers through his entire body. Why do these feelings exist inside him? Where did they come from and why now of all times when he has to put his life on the line for his boss?

A thousand and one worries ran rampant within him, but nothing prepared him for the day that she suddenly became the focus of his life. Was it because she had turned everything in their lives into something entirely new? She brought light and warmth everywhere she went. She gave new meaning and purpose to his dull existence. He wanted to protect her. Jongho clutched his fists tight at the thought of anyone or anything putting her in harm’s way or seeing her cry. How did this happen? Why couldn’t he control what’s going on inside his head or heart? All of his training, all of his efforts to be rational, completely overthrown by Miss Y/N.

For the longest time, Jongho stared ahead into the darkness. In his heart, a seed had been planted, waiting for its chance to burst open. A dream, a possibility for something bigger than the two of them. What if... What if she felt the same?

He wanted her. That much he was certain of, and although he had never thought it possible that his life would turn into what it’s turned into, it did. No doubt. But the biggest issue with everything: what does Miss Y/N want? Would she like a future by his side? A life with a mere servant, when she could easily marry into the aristocracy instead and obtain riches?

Jongho paused and slumped deeper into the pillows. None of these were questions he had an answer for, nor could he form any sort of speculation for at least in the foreseeable future, unless she showed him something else. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that, for as long as it takes, for as long as the chances of her loving him remained uncertain, Jongho would hold on and treasure every smile, every laugh and every giggle that makes him wish to have his own smiles and laughs with her.

And for the first time in a while, he realized what had brought such joy into his previously monotonous life and now, what he will never, ever, give up no matter what.

Even if it meant going against Yunho.

“Miss Y/N!” a sweet, cheery voice chimed happily as you settled into a chair.

The children had become comfortable enough to act so comfortably in your presence, not hesitating to pull themselves up by you for their morning meal. Every time you saw them in their cute outfits, smiles bright and glowing, and chatting happily away, a warm sense of fulfillment spread through your entire body. What were the odds that a few weeks ago you would have thought nothing like this would be possible, and yet, everything in front of you showed otherwise?

“What are we learning today, Miss Y/N?” Yujin asked, mouth half-full with some cut up pieces of apples.

“Slowly, dears,” you instructed patiently, gently tapping a napkin to his lip. “We are learning more about literature and art appreciation.”

“Is it the boring kind like those dumb books in Daddy’s study?” Suyeon wrinkled her nose distastefully.

You giggled as a certain fondness washed over you. The precious little girl’s blunt opinions and personality never failed to amuse and delight you. Even if they might not like a particular activity, both she and Yujin would sit dutifully next to you and pay attention.

“These are different kinds of books, I promise,” you winked, earning delighted gasps from the two children.

Sujin, being only three, clapped along with the excitement, watching her older siblings. Despite her babbling, there were some basic words of gratitude and greeting she recognized and had begun uttering for each member of the staff, which warmed everyone’s hearts. As you taught the two older children, Sujin would happily be in your lap or clinging to your skirt. She definitely liked following and was quieter, preferring to listen to you speak more than try to recite herself.

“Alright. Let’s go,” you picked Sujin up.

With the children in tow, you entered the room, where several books lined the shelves neatly in organized rows. The previous tutors were highly experienced individuals; well read, knowledgeable and proper. Although Yunho gave his children the luxury of many learning opportunities and experiences, there was something to be desired in that they would not relate well to the children’s age. Children’s education needed to be adjusted according to their growth, development, interests and abilities in order for them to retain their lessons and information better.

Although you taught adults during your time as a professor in a college, being able to teach little children was an entirely new world of its own. But seeing their adorable little faces lighting up with their eyes gleaming whenever you started telling them a story, seeing Sujin clapping her chubby hands or watching them lean forward as they listened intently, hearing them ask questions, and interacting with them. Everything about their childhood was a rare treat. You could tell the children enjoyed themselves tremendously. Their innocent smiles and their wide, sparkling gazes filled with curiosity and wonder were more than enough payment to last a lifetime.

“So,” you began, getting up from the table to approach the wooden cabinet against the wall. As usual, you scanned over its contents briefly, deciding on what to pull out, before turning your focus back to the children, who patiently waited. “I know Suyeon doesn’t like the books in their father’s study, but perhaps she may prefer some paintings.”

“Like pretty ladies sitting on swings or walking near water fountains?” Yujin asked. His sweet question made you chuckle as his interest was also shown.

“There are also plenty of pictures like that too, although most of them will probably show landscapes,” you mused, bringing up a large, bound folio. “How about we try this one together?”

Your suggestion was met with their excited agreement. Once the book was laid flat on the wooden tabletop, you flipped past the first few pages. You didn’t have to say much about the cover or title, as it didn’t take long for the kids to recognize what the subjects of these works were. Suyeon stared curiously, barely able to read the words scrolled upon its cover.

“Are you ready to learn more about the artists behind some of these lovely images?” Your question resulted in an enthusiastic cheer.

While the kids sat with their legs dangling as they carefully examined the pictures before them, you opened another folder containing a brief passage of information that served as an introductory background on the person who painted each work. It would have taken many times the amount of energy to fully explain or discuss each painting itself, much less explain the various aspects of brush strokes, textures, color schemes and so on. Instead, a simplified overview of each artist’s lives would have to be enough until the children can sit and learn without feeling bored.

“What are we learning today?” Yunho asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft grin as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Art. Artists,” Suyeon waved her hands around excitedly. “It’s so cool, daddy!”

“Daddy. Look!” Yujin held up an oil pastel drawing with two rabbits. The sight of him pointing proudly to his art and holding it out made you crack a fond smile.

“I figured today we delve into the arts since you’re an art professor yourself, my lord,” you remarked gently, watching the kids jump about and start on their respective drawings, though Sujin needed more of your assistance. “We could branch out into more literary sections starting later, and of course, I’ll include plenty of reading time.”

“What great ideas. I think the children love it,” he offered up a quiet hum.

“They do have talent,” you added happily. The young master and lady were exceptional at drawing and painting, though not without their moments of struggle in between, to be expected from children of their ages.

“Now, now, my young lord and ladies,” you said calmly, stepping over with the stack of paper and paints, “we don’t want to paint our beautiful clothes, do we?”

Picking up Sujin, her chubby hands filled with green and orange smudges, you rubbed them lightly over a tissue before depositing her on your hip, making the younger Jeong squeal with delight, smacking her tiny palms against your cheek and staining it. Laughing at her behavior, you handed her to the nanny as she came to pick her up. Yujin and Suyeon joined them for a moment.

“Please make sure the children get cleaned up and dressed as well, Miss Kim,” Yunho told the nanny as you organized the scattered materials into their neat piles. The children were adamant at spending every spare second with you and constantly begging you to stay a little longer, regardless of the fact that it was nap time and you needed a break too. “Miss Y/N must also rest.”

You thanked the nanny quietly and bade farewell to the kids with the promise that you will continue your studies together with them after naptime. Just as you were about to head upstairs for a quick catnap, Yunho gently took hold of your shoulder, making you glance at him in surprise.

“You have paint on your face,” he murmured, pulling a clean, soft handkerchief out of his pocket. Before you could respond, the cloth ran softly over the corners of your lips and across one side of your cheek. Your entire face tingled and burned. A sudden warmth enveloped your entire body despite how soft the delicate cloth felt against your skin.

His gaze and expression were softer than usual. Kind eyes that radiated heat, along with an enigmatic smile you couldn’t decipher. Unconsciously, your teeth dug into the inside of your lip and an inaudible sigh slipped through your parted lips. Yunho stopped a moment and surveyed you closely, still smiling with that indescribable grin as his gaze dipped lower briefly.

“Do not think too much,” he added with a low chuckle. You became uncomfortably aware of his fingers gliding smoothly across your skin as he wiped off the extra paint left behind by the children’s sticky fingers, then you watched him refold the handkerchief neatly before stuffing it into his pocket.

It took you another moment to remember to breathe. His proximity still affected you greatly. Thankfully, he stepped back and headed away, leaving you alone to deal with the growing feeling in your heart and mind. How is it even possible, you wondered as your gaze remained fixated upon the dark head of hair until the figure disappeared down the hallway and turned to the corner, when his mere smile and touches were enough to make you lose composure and act shy in front of him? And the thoughts of him touching you, looking at you, thinking about you...just you, in the privacy of his chambers. 

You buried your hot face in your hands.

Being around the man, his charming aura and enigmatic smiles, made you question and yearn for the chance to be held in his arms and in his affections. You sighed deeply, knowing fully well that, although nothing could ever happen, at least the feelings could only fizzle out with time. Surely, this entire episode will pass soon and everything can return to normal again.

To distract yourself, you decided to get some hot tea and snacks from the kitchen. You found Jongho in the kitchens already, nibbling a snack of his own. When he noticed you, he shifted so his seat would give you enough space to sit and dine on the delicious and soothing sweets.

“What kinds of books do you usually read, Miss Y/N?” Jongho suddenly asked, catching you completely off-guard.

“Oh, me?” you hesitated a little, lowering the cup to the table with a quiet, timid chuckle.

“Yes. I was curious and wanted to see whether your likes and preferences are similar.” he gave a hopeful, toothy grin. “Are there any other books or topics you are interested in?”

“Of course. I absolutely love history, literature and language, and art, of course,” you explained, ignoring the thudding of your racing heart, cheeks growing pinker. “Oh, and cooking, sewing, gardening and painting, too. Anything that will allow me to unwind after work, really.”

“What about romance?” Jongho continued, making you grow hot.

“R-romance?” Your brows furrowed, nearly choking on the dessert.

“It’s one of the most popular genres in our town’s library,” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “But you seem to like reading history.”

Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Well, I enjoy all forms of literature. So, there’s that,” you giggled nervously. You didn’t have time to explain your obsession and love with the subject. “To answer your question, yes, I do enjoy the occasional romance novels too, although it depends. They should contain elements that spark the interest of the readers.”

“And what interests you?” Jongho’s smile widened even more as he asked the simple question, turning to you again and making your heart do a backflip.

For a moment, your head was a total mess. Of course, you enjoyed reading historical novels and occasionally light romantic ones, but most of it, you used to read them as an outlet for the day’s stress or when your heart ached from loneliness. As you grew into a fully grown adult and understood your body’s needs, a different craving for literature developed. The contents became dirtier and explicit.

That didn’t mean, however, that you were shameless enough to mention these types of works to anyone. Your eyes looked around briefly, scanning the area, making sure no one could catch sight of how flustered you’d become. Jongho was handsome, that much you could acknowledge as a fact. And in the time that you’ve known him and had been working in the mansion, a faint seedling of some sort of respect, admiration, and desire for something bloomed. The fact that you could imagine him holding you so intimately that you had started looking at his built figure, thinking of his lips over yours, his fingers trailing softly over every inch of your body.

Jongho followed your gaze to find it landed on the servants. To others, they were chatting and conversing with each other and working about the area while preparing to serve tea for afternoon refreshments. It was simply them going about doing their duties. “Miss?”

“Hm?” you uttered. “Yes?”

Jongho shifted towards you, leaning forward and casually adjusting his legs while sliding his hands closer to where yours rested on the table. His height caused his shoulder to hunch forward slightly, so his breath wafted across your cheeks, warm and soft. His handsome features, his neatly slicked hair, his gentle expressions, you could stare at his gorgeous features for hours and not grow bored with taking everything in. “Are you okay? You seem to be quite flustered.”

“Oh? Flustered?” A high-pitched noise escaped your lips, sounding more like a broken screech. “Me? I was just thinking that─”

You quickly cupped the cup with a nervous smile and drank more of the refreshing lemon drink. Your throat was tight. Was it getting warm? The way you shifted in the seat revealed the discomfort in between your thighs that continued to grow worse. Jongho had somehow affected your hormones without realizing.

“I-it’s nothing. Nope! Just me and my silly thoughts.” you swallowed thickly, fanning your heated face with your free hand.

You couldn’t understand why you started feeling this way for both Yunho and Jongho. These feelings weren’t like the kind that you’d had experienced before with anyone else. You’ve had your fair share of men, though folks would call you promiscuous because they didn’t believe any good woman would associate themselves with those kinds of folks. But with Yunho and Jongho, there was this unfamiliar sensation in how you reacted whenever you saw them. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you liked this. A lot. You loved feeling the butterflies in your stomach. 

This sweet, new thing.

“Your face is pink,” Jongho noted casually. There was no hint of teasing. It was spoken with genuine, quiet worry that caused an oncoming headache, coupled with the dryness in your throat. “Perhaps you should lay down.”

Your lips tightened and pursed. “I will, I think.”

You dabbed at the corner of your mouth and then left the servant to clean up in order to exit to your bedroom to lie down. However, instead of a long and dreamless nap, your mind became filled with dreams and fantasies of what could be. Of Jongho and your fingers entwined, him leaning closer to steal a kiss, his lips so tender upon your own and his body flushed to yours, skin tingling with need. Of Yunho’s powerful arms around you, shielding you, and his breath hot and husky as he murmurs his affections, kissing you deeply with a passionate neediness. The images made you sigh heavily into the bedsheets, letting out all the tension that you had no other place for.

And deep down, you felt almost certain that there might be a place for both men within your heart.

The thoughts surrounding Yunho’s mind as he slept that night were those of Miss Y/N, whom he was growing more accustomed to seeing and thinking of each passing day. Every time, when she walked past him and greeted him or when she lingered near, he would breathe her in, notice every little detail like the crinkle near her mouth when she laughed and the light in her beautiful eyes. And just when he thought that she would be ingrained in his mind, her figure would change to that of his late wife, the curves, the colors and her voice would change into her tone.

Her face appeared a lot clearer than it has been for years. Almost as if she was here beside him, lying next to him with one arm and her head draped lazily across his chest as she fell asleep to him, running his fingers gently through her smooth locks. Even her touch, her sweet smell. It felt so real, as if it was not the first time he’d had her in his arms.

With a quick inhale and a shift of his head, his hand dropped limply onto the soft covers, and the rest of her figure faded from his mind. Her memory would always linger with a bit of uncertainty that threatened to spoil his mood. How strange, Yunho thought to himself as his eyes reopened to see the soft, plush bedding covering his bare chest. In the distant corner, moonlight continued to filter into the large room, bathing all the furniture in a silver glow. For the longest while, he remained motionless and stared at the ceiling. The cold sheets caressed him lovingly as he curled against his pillow.

He heard the whispers, the voices, coming from the walls, filling his brain, filling his very being. Was he becoming crazy? Every night, it grew stronger; the voices, her, trying to draw him into an ever-growing darkness.

“Yunho,” the whispers, the dead hiss came, causing him to clutch his pillow with white-knuckle strength, nails digging into the silky material as he clutched his head with his other hand.

They were always there; waiting for him, waiting for him to do... something.

“Yunho,” her breath, her breath was against his ear now.

“Yunho,” she hissed. “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. Don’t you want me, Yunho? Do you not want me? Yunho? Yunho!”

He closed his eyes, gripping the blankets in both fists, feeling her invisible touch on the backs of his shoulders. “No,” he whimpered, “not anymore, not anymore!”

The feel of her icy fingers on his chest sent ice into his heart. It felt like death in his ears, in his chest, in his mouth. Yunho squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt a hard shudder overcome his entire form.

“Give. Me. What. You. Promised.” Her voice grew louder, a silent roar, and louder, her words growing indistinguishable as he sat in silence, a tremor overtaking his body. Yunho could feel her fingernails drawing small circles and spirals upon his bare skin, and her mouth was cold upon his ear, her breath harsh and wet. “You promised me eternal life. Give it to me.”

He opened his eyes, staring at the ghostly apparition of his late wife who still continued to hover before him, grinning and chanting in that harsh, otherworldly voice. “I can’t... Not when the body you want is a breathing, living thing!” Yunho gritted through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you love me?” She snarled. “Don’t you miss me?”

He stiffened, not wanting to reply, as the sight of his former, most beloved person standing before him with such unabashed cruelty was too much. He kept silent, hearing his heart beat faster as the cold spread in his chest, like frost burning up the core of him.

“Tell me, dear,” her voice lowered, cooing and breathless in his ear, “do you still love me, after everything that happened, Yunho?”

He didn’t know how to reply. So many mixed emotions rose and threatened to overflow. The coldness in his bones and her heavy weight, the dread, the dread all sinking down upon him until he finally whispered,

“Yes...” Yunho looked at her, unflinching. His resolve held for this one second as the memories, the old fears, the hatred flooded him all the same.

She smiled, eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight.

“Do you wish you had me by your side, again?” She cooed and reached forward. “She looks like me, you know. You can have us both. Tell me, tell me.”

Yunho closed his eyes, shaking them, wanting to rid himself of the ghost before his eyes, his ghost, the vision before him, and then he cried aloud, “NO!”

And when he felt the warm hand that touched his arm gently, Yunho flinched away with a heavy gasp.

“My lord?” the quiet voice came. Yunho opened his eyes, the ghost of his late wife, nowhere to be seen. In her place stood his very real, breathing person.

You looked down at his sweat drenched body, a clear sign he was either having fever or having a nightmare. You head the sounds coming from his bedroom and dashed towards him to investigate the situation. Now, standing at the bedside and examining his poor sleeping figure and seeing how he tossed and turned.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, not caring that you were just in a thin layer of chemise that barely concealed all of your most intimate areas, or that he was naked from the waist up.

“Mmhm,” his throat muscles bobbed. It was all Yunho could manage through the overwhelming need and desire. You. He needed you. He needed someone else. Anyone other than her. She would not haunt him for long, not when he had a mind and will of his own. Not when he had you.

“I-I....” the man shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him so that you lay flat on the bed, his body hovering over you.

The blanket had moved aside and fell completely from his torso to the mattress, showing off the stunning upper body, tousled and messed hair, and a glint in his half-closed gaze. You exhaled shakily, still unmoving.

“Please. I... just want you. Just tonight,” he breathed, looking up from your cleavage. He captured your lips with his own, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Stay with me tonight.”

The gentleness, his words, and his touch seemed to burn into your skin. His hands moved up your arms, pinning them above your head as he devoured your mouth and your neck. His knee settled nicely between your legs. With every word, his teeth, tongue and lips trailed over the tender skin of your exposed throat and collarbone.

It felt right; his firm, warm body pressed to your own, the gentle tugs of his hands upon the flimsy chemise, the slow drag of his thumb across your lips, the feather-light brushes and caresses, his mouth upon yours, exploring, dominating, yet coaxing out your desire. The soft noises you make and the whimpers of his name urged him forward, spurring his hunger.

“Do you want me? Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. His mouth was so close that you felt his hot breath washing over your wet lips, making you shiver. “Please.”

“I want you,” you gasped, overwhelmed by your desires and needs and unable to say more. Your lips yearned for him. For his taste and his scent. You wanted nothing more but him.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he reached down with one hand to press a finger to your slick sex, dragging it upwards, sending your hips bucking and arching from the pleasurable shock that ripped through you. “Yunho....”

“I...” his breath quivered. “Is it alright?”

He was hard, unbelievably hard against your thigh and his tent was already apparent in the loose trousers he was wearing. Even so, his kind nature urged him to be respectful. “Is it?”

He glanced up and down at your bare and quivering form, taking in the curves of your soft, lush skin and the dips between. His gaze lingered on your full and luscious breasts with its stiffened peaks, so tantalizingly inviting and luring. You wiggled one of your hands free, grasping the hand that was on your sex, squeezing it as you smiled tenderly.

“Yes,” you breathed softly, and his eyes bore back at you in shock. “I am willing.”

After hearing your words of consent, he inserted a long finger inside you. You gasped loudly and arched your back as his mouth latched onto one hardened bud, taking your breast into his mouth, sucking greedily and harshly. He added another finger and began to slide his fingers in and out, allowing the tip of his fingers to run across that spot he knew would have you writhing in pleasure.

You bucked your hips again to meet the pace of his fingers, as you tried your best not to moan louder and louder. “P-please... Oh! Yunho, please.”

It felt as if every nerve ending in your body was alight and ready for his touch, to feel his heat wash over every inch of your exposed skin, even his soft breathing. As he pressed his body flat and covered your entire form with his own, the entire room seemed to dim, your hearing and vision a mess, every sound muted and faraway as you succumbed to the feel of Yunho’s hands and the press of his weight over you, which somehow reassured you.

“Hush now,” his low voice tickled your ear, making your entire body shake with anticipation and need. “Let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. So good.”

You found yourself moaning from his husky and thick voice alone. He rolled his hips to emphasise the point, dragging the hardened bulge against the inside of your thigh. He removed his hand from you only to rip your chemise cleanly down the middle.

“I’ll get you another one,” he chuckled when he saw your surprised face.

“How am I supposed to go back to my bedroom?” you managed between huffs.

“You don’t,” Yunho murmured, taking hold of both your hands in one grip again, pinning them together. “I intend to keep you all night long until the sun rises. We’ll see if you are not absolutely spent by then.”

Before you could utter another word, Yunho trailed, kissed down the valley between your breasts and all the way to your stomach, dipping the tip of his tongue in the tiny curve where the muscles in the belly are. Your senses were over flooded from every lick and stroke, each graze of his teeth, his hands and his mouth, kissing you, kneading you, stroking you, anywhere and everywhere.

Suddenly, there was an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Yunho rising. His hands made quick work of undoing the cord that kept his pants tied in place.

“Open your legs,” Yunho’s hot breath fanned over your cheeks as he breathed raggedly. He urged, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh lightly. “Wider.”

Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled down your body, his fingers all the way to the inner part of your thighs, pulling and spreading them apart for him. Without a warning, his tongue laved at your damp opening, drinking your essence greedily as you writhed and moaned beneath him. A firm hand went to your stomach, preventing you from moving too much as Yunho’s lips covered your swollen folds. You pulled on the silken strands of his hair, earning a growl of approval, and moaned softly at the sensation of his warm breaths fanned over your clit. His tongue swirled over your entrance, driving you absolutely mad.

With his talented and torturous mouth, Yunho didn’t take much longer until your release spasmed throughout your entire being, shattering your every thought and coherency. Yunho didn’t relent and continued devouring you, prolonging your release until you were forced to use your free hand to push his head away. When your breathing finally evened out, you felt Yunho shift, his weight above your pelvis, and his solid erection laid heavily between the apex of your thighs.

“Y/N,” his hands moved to your wrists once again. And, as you felt him enter your walls and slide deliciously along your soaking, moist flesh, he took your lips in a kiss, claiming your mouth and drawing a breathless gasp from you as his length filled you and stretched you most deliciously, stealing your breath away. The two of you settled into a delicious rhythm with his cock stroking in and out and with the thrust of his hips in perfect sync with your rocking. “You feel so good.”

The deep grunts that followed had you burying your nails into his skin, the need for him increasing as you could almost hear the thudding of your heart as Yunho’s movements got quicker, causing you to arch against his chest. There were no thoughts in your mind and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that escaped your lips. With his hand guiding your leg around him and the other supporting him, Yunho sank his length deeper inside you.

“So warm,” he shuddered in disbelief as his breathing became more ragged, the scent of his cologne and arousal hitting you directly, along with the droplets of sweat that began to form on his back. You moaned and whispered his name repeatedly like it was a spell, knowing that he needed more than just your words.

His low growls were so close to your ear, urging you to continue chanting his name with every movement until a small whimper broke from you, a soft, “oh.”

“Look at me,” his lips grazed your earlobe as you mewled and jerked your hips to meet his deep thrust. He needed to see the look of complete surrender on your face when he finished you. He wanted to see every detail.

“Yunho,” you let out a soft moan.

“Now,” he whispered in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine, drawing a gasp from you as he snapped his hips, embedding himself to the hilt. “Come for me.”

A cry, sweet and wanting, was forced from his lips, as Yunho wrapped his hands around your throat, capturing the moan in another kiss, making you feel the warmth radiating between your connected bodies. He breathed heavily and groaned at the contact of his throbbing erection in your heat. As if responding to your need, he squeezed the globes of your rear gently before continuing his rough and hurried strokes.

When the tension and pressure grew too great, Yunho couldn’t control himself. He climaxed with a deep grunt and your name. All his strength seemed to abandon him and his weight toppled over, leaning on you. Immediately, he shifted and placed a kiss at the top of your forehead, gathering you close to his sweat slicked skin with your head nestled under his chin.

Your hands roamed all over the expanse of Yunho’s broad, warm chest as his heartbeat started to slow. One hand pushed a stray strand away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks, moist and slightly swollen lips, and tousled hair. Yunho looked gorgeous and absolutely stunning underneath the pale moon that continued to provide its illuminating light.

His eyelids fluttered open to look directly into yours. With his right hand, he drew your face towards him. Your breath hitched as Yunho rested his forehead upon yours, his thumb grazing across your lips. He sucked in a deep breath and whispered something in a tone that you could not catch. Afterward, he moved downwards and connected his mouth to yours, kissing your lips fervently, relishing every little moan you emitted.

“You’re beautiful,” he uttered in the brief pauses between kisses, making you chuckle. “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “What happened to you earlier?”

With a furrowed expression, you witnessed the dark look that crossed Yunho’s handsome features. The way he carried himself, the quiet elegance he always displayed. It was all still the same, but there was also something hidden and tucked behind his person. Like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Yunho shook his head. “There’s... a lot of things that’s happened, Y/N. It’ll take a long time to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you replied quietly, brushing a thumb against his cheek.

Yunho merely looked at you, studying every minute detail of your face, committing everything to memory. At that moment, there was nothing else but you and Yunho. Nothing and no one could have this. And the way you spoke, the way your gentle hands moved across his skin as you spoke, the very fact that he was talking about something he hadn’t touched upon in the years of your company, caused him to think. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, after all.

“If there’s a reason,” you murmured slowly and cautiously as you rested a hand upon his naked chest, “a reason that has prevented you to open up and talk, I hope that in time, you’ll be willing to tell me what troubles you, Yunho.”

With a smile tugging his lips upwards, a genuine smile, Yunho held you close. For the first time in years, there was a spark of hope and warmth he could feel and it was not a hallucination, no.

It was very real.

One month passed by relatively fast.

You were standing next to Jongho, waving at the departing carriage that Yunho and the children had departed in. Yunho and the children were heading to the capital for the holidays, as was the custom for nobles to do. Sujin was clinging on to you for dear life and refused to leave, wailing and screaming in anguish, holding you tight in her embrace while the other two children joined her in their wails. Their loud sobs drowned out all the noise of the bustling servants and horses.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” you muttered, rubbing the child’s back soothingly and in a voice loud enough to be heard amongst the chaos. The toddler buried her face further into your chest, nodding slowly while sobbing quietly. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

Yunho sighed and walked up behind, gently peeling off Sujin from her iron grip.

“You have to let go, baby,” he soothed and smiled comfortingly.

“Papa, no!” she wailed, digging her face against Yunho’s chest with a new set of sobs. The older gentleman gave you a helpless look and sighed. You only offered a supportive smile in response.

“The sooner you let go, the sooner we can return and you can see Miss Y/N again,” Yunho cajoled with the toddler, still not relenting her hold on his shirt.

Yunho waited patiently as Sujin processed his statement and pulled her face back, still sniffling and sobbing and hiccupping. She nodded vigorously. “Uh, huh.”

“Alright. Say goodbye, now,” Yunho said sternly. The toddler pouted with tears dripping down her red face.

“Bye-bye mama,” she cried. “Bye-bye!!”

You stood there frozen and startled beyond belief. The children and everyone around them went still with astonishment as a sudden awkward silence washed over everyone and they stared back and forth. Your mind went blank and unresponsive, incapable of forming any thought and even a simple word as the small and fragile girl wrapped her arms around your neck once again, causing the spell to break.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” not bothering to correct the toddler. You embraced the little girl, taking in the smell of her soft baby hairs. With one final cry, the toddler released you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Jongho, keep Miss Y/N and the rest of the staff well,” the nobleman addressed to the younger man with a slight blush dusted over his cheekbones. He offered an apologetic grin before sending a knowing look your way and nodded, retreating inside his carriage with the crying kids trailing behind. The carriage shook roughly and then, with the sound of rattling wheels, was off.

“Mama, huh?” One maid let out a teasing grin. “Seems like the little lady has already taken a liking to you, Miss Y/N.”

“What do you expect? Miss Y/N is the closest to a mother figure that the young lord and ladies have.” The house steward, old and grizzled as he was, merely hummed in thought, stroking his beard in contemplation as he watched the retreating carriage fade in the distant hills.

“I don’t mind it at all,” you laughed. “Sujin is three, after all. She doesn’t understand much.”

“Just wait, Miss Y/N. In no time, all three children will start calling you mama. That would be adorable,” one of the kitchen maids added. Everyone began to chat animatedly. “The master already has affection towards you. It’s only a matter of time until those adorable tykes start picking up on his feelings.”

“What are you all saying?! That would never happen!” You blushed bright red as everyone burst out laughing.

Jongho chuckled. “Now, now. Let’s all get back to our duties. The sooner we all finish, the sooner we can finally relax!”

With Jongho’s cheerful remark, the atmosphere turned jubilant. The servants immediately scattered back to their stations and went back to their responsibilities. However, Jongho stood next to you. “You know he cares about you.”

“He-we’re not together!” You protested loudly, waving your hands frantically in front of you. “There’s no way he can like a woman of my stature.”

“Are you blind?” He laughed, patting your shoulder with a wide grin. “Everyone in this entire mansion and even the children have taken to you. You’ve fit right in like you were always a member here.”

“And you? Did you like having me around here as well, Mister Jongho?” You looked at him. You teased, a grin on your lips. 

“More than you know. To me,” Jongho beamed, a look of pure relief overcoming his entire form. The burden that he had carried seemed to have evaporated. He nodded toward the large estate and the shrubbery in the garden. “To me, it’s almost like you were here to watch over all of us. Because, if anything, there was no one that has loved us like the way you did.”

“Jongho....” Your chest tightened. There was something about his eyes. Something about the way they took you and held you with utmost trust and admiration that brought joy into your heart.

“I know that, like all humans, Lord Yunho had his share of tragedies in the past,” the groundskeeper began quietly, as his gaze wandered to the green hills and to the morning sun, bathing him in a soft glow and accentuating his firm jaw and soft, brown hair.

“Can you tell me... about what happened?” you asked. “No, never mind,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to if-“  

“No. It’s alright. You need to know,” he gave a strained laugh and gestured you to follow him. You and him walked down a path in the enormous garden, Jongho taking extra time to make sure all the shrubbery were in check and that the plants looked neat, pruned, and trimmed to his liking. The both of you stood underneath a small pavilion and sat at a table facing the fountain.

“What happened to her?” You asked him in a soft whisper.

“You mean Lady Ara?” His gaze lingered upon the lilies floating peacefully along the surface of the pond. He clenched his fingers tightly. “You look like her, you know. She was so vibrant, warm, gentle, and beautiful. But during the last few months of being pregnant with Miss Sujin, her health and strength began to wane.”

Your face showed concern. “How?”

“The grand library,” Jongho didn’t bother to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes followed a lone dove that alighted near one lily. Its wings fluttered against the cool wind and the breeze blew through his locks softly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Three months prior to little Sujin being born, Lady Ara was reading a book that wasn’t meant to be read.”

“What were they about?” You questioned quietly and carefully as the younger man’s brow furrowed.

“Old magic,” Jongho hesitated. He was visibly nervous and when you reached out to squeeze his hand, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped onto your hand with such a hard grip, his face contorting and crinkling in pain and horror that you almost feared he had broken a bone or two in his hand. “And with old magic, came a price.”

He swallowed and continued in a low, shaking whisper. “Her life.”

Silence was the only answer he received. So, he continued.

“Thank the goddess that little Sujin was spared the curse that was bestowed upon Lady Ara, but....” A bitter, defeated chuckle was heard as he stood from the bench. He picked up the clippers that laid upon the ground and snipped a tiny branch. “It would only be a matter of time before the curse took Lady Ara’s life. She didn’t make it through and now her ghost haunts the castle.”

“Ghost?” you asked.

“Haven’t you heard whispers? Chilling voices down the halls sometimes at night?” Jongho asked.

“So I’m not going crazy,” you whispered. “No wonder I hear these voices.”

“The staff and the children can’t hear or see her,” Jongho finally finished as he took his seat again. The old and withering rose bush branches were shedding their petals at a rapid pace as he pruned the branches and pulled at the weak buds. “But Yunho and I still do. Ever since her death, she’s been plaguing and tormenting both of us in different ways.”

You chewed at the insides of your bottom lip. “Why her?”

“Because her ghost is tied with that old book she read,” Jongho said.  

“Can’t Yunho burn the book?” you asked. “I’m certain that would set her spirit free.”

“We tried, many times.” Jongho merely shrugged with a helpless look. He stabbed his clippers on the wooden bench with a sigh. “When the first two tries failed, it got worse. Whenever Yunho attempted to do such a thing, Lady Ara’s ghost would wail so loud and horribly. Yunho and I would find ourselves being paralyzed, unable to move or speak. And when we asked her what she wanted, she hissed that she didn’t want to go. That she wanted eternal life.”

“Jongho,” you said.

He snorted a little and turned his head away in shame, not meeting your worried and alarmed expression.

“What’s going on?” you asked.  

“You. She wants you, Y/N.” Jongho pressed a trembling hand against his temple. “She wants to take over your body.”

TO BE CONTINUED

𓇼 𝐏𝟏𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐓𝐰𝐨 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 Crush On You - @jiunngs ot6 x gn!reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 End Of Discussion, Period - @sxtvrns ot6 x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Hyung Line On Your Birthday - @0prie hyung line x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Late Night Calls - @yuqiune ot6 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 P1h Reaction To You Saying No To Having Sex - @dprvivi ot6 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 P1harmony On The Perfect Date - @jamsterrr ot6 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐨 𓇼 𓆞 Love Bites - @/hrts4kyo bf!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Morning, baby - @shutupheathersorryheatherr bf!keeho x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Paintfully Cute - @blue-jisungs bf!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Ride - @/hrts4kyo non-idol!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Sharing A New Years Kiss - @kairoot crush!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @sxfterhearts theatre kid!keeho x student librarian!reader (headcanon) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨) 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Let's Get Out Of Here - @random-potat non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Loser(s) [Part One] [Part Two] - @joocomics youtuber!theo x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Voice Of An Angel (And A Monster) - @restlessmaknae siren!theo x princess!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @heliswife best friend!theo x pop star!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @slytherinshua idol!theo x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Untitled - @/sminiac bf!theo x reader (headcanon) 𓆞

𓇼 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐣𝐢𝐮𝐧𝐠 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Dawn - @luvkyu bf!jiung x male!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Full Of You(r Love) - @sxfterhearts non-idol!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Last Minute Nerves - @loveji non-idol!jiung x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Love Shot - @lixiesfreckless cupid!jiung x succubus!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Sunday Morning - @moonhoures non-idol!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Telekinesis - @wispyxjae bf!producer!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐤 𓇼 𓆞 1:18am - @wispyxjae dom!intak x reader (headcanon) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Driving Force - @blue-jisungs idol!intak x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 I Want It To Be Real Too - @soubeomies non-idol!intak x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 On Set - @/hrts4kyo idol!intak x staff!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @sxfterhearts bf!intak x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @yyawnjun bf!intak x reader (prompt) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐚 (𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥) 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Animal Crossing And Alien Noises - @mini-mews idol!soul x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Being In Love With Soul ♡ - @kissoulie idol!soul x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Summer Fun - @bunnysblogs non-idol!soul x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @slytherinshua bf!soul x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @/sminiac bf!soul x reader (headcanon) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @zeroseuniverse idol!soul x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 #69A0FF - @hanibalistic non-idol!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 And They Were Roommates - @random-potat idol!jongseob x idol!reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Captured - @jina1028 non-idol!jongseob x older!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Is This Okay? - @dprvivi bf!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Jongseob As Your Coffee Shop Crush!! - @/xdinaryvamp artist!jongseob × student!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Loaded And Devoted - @sxtvrns rich!bf!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

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.

I’ve always been a sucker for angst and this is just beautiful. Words can’t describe how much I love this. The desperate search to bring back your loved one knowing it’s impossible and being told from them to let them out hurts.

Absolutely, once again never ceases to amaze me by how beautiful and amazing your writing is <3

💫Did I even deserve you?💫

✨Pairing: Vampire!Seonghwa x dead!gn!reader ✨Prompt: Vampire Seonghwa is still miserable many decades after losing his soulmate. ✨Word Count: 3.4k ✨Genre: angst, vampire au, soulmate au 🌙Warnings: talks of death, reader is mentioned but not alive in this story, no use of y/n, mentions of Seonghwa not feeding for a long period of time, lost of a loved one, mentions of how he wishes he wasn't on this earth anymore, grief, ghosts, let me know if I missed any warnings! ☀️️Authors note: Got this idea into my head and wanted to explore writing angst in this setting. It is very different from what I usually write and I have worked hard on this one and I am quite pleased with the outcome.

The moon was high up in the sky, illuminating the forest in a light wash of grey. Highlighting the fog that is developing the forest and the castle making it look eerie and abandoned. Cobwebs dancing around windows and moss climbing up the bricks together with the roses that are climbing parts of the castle.

Both beautiful and dangerous.

It was said that sometimes you could see ghosts walking past the windows. Some even claimed to have seen a ghost in the rose garden. Walking around and calling out for their beloved but no response.

Young children were warned not to go there. It was dangerous and better to stay away from a place that would most likely fall in a few decades. The road to the castle was brittled with rocks, thick trees and bushes.

It was not a pleasant road.

Despite that there was a lone figure hiking their way up to the castle, dressed in a black robe. The figure was walking very slowly as if every step towards the castle was painful, making him hurt deeply. Despite that, he continued on with heavy footsteps to the one place he called home.

The owl up in the tree hooted familiarly once he was spotted and the howls of wolves could be heard throughout the forest. None of this bothered the man, for he knew that no one would dare to try and hurt him. A man of the night, a bloodthirsty bloodsucker as the humans once had called people like him.

Now he and his family were nothing more than a mere legend.

A myth.

Something humans wrote stories about without believing they actually existed. Sometimes the man wishes he no longer existed in this world.

It would be easier than walking around the world knowing your fated one was no longer walking this earth.

Unfortunately he was doomed to walk this cruel earth until the end of time as it was now.

The closer he got to his home the more dread and sorrow filled his entire being. He used to be filled with such happiness coming back here but now that was all gone.

The grand doors to the castle opened welcoming, sensing one of its masters returning home. The candles lighting up as he entered the hallway and walked down towards the place where he knew his brothers were residing.

They were expecting him after all. Like they do every year around this time when he gets back from his three month search around the world for anyone who could help him bring back his fated one to life.

And like every year he came back unsuccessful.

It was as if the world was taunting him. Taunting him for not being careful enough. For not appreciating what he had and for being arrogant thinking he could best fate and death because of who he was.

Seonghwa

Your voice.

He stopped what he was doing. Only the wind was blowing in from an opened window. The figure looked around carefully, not making much movements, for us mortals it would have looked like he was completely still.

He shook his head gently. It must have been the wind. It cannot have been your voice he heard.

You are no longer here he told himself as he continued his walk towards the room his brothers were in. He could not have heard your voice whisper his name in the wind. You were dead, no longer walking this earth and it felt like his heart was breaking into thousands of pieces every single day when he remembers that.

He remembers your smile, your laughter, your kindness. Everything that he once took for granted he now misses with such intensity that he does not know what to do with himself. It is like the joy he once had is now gone, sucked out of his body leaving behind a cold empty shell.

He starts walking again. He knows his brothers have heard him arrive and he knows that they are waiting for him. The closer he gets the more he can hear them. Shuffling around in the living room, living their normal lives.

Not stricken by grief.

The doors open once again welcoming, just like the front doors to one of its masters returning home and the noise dies down as he steps inside looking around at his family. They are all there. The first ones he notices are the two brunettes sitting together on the sofa. Yunho, Yeosang. Then he sees the them, San, Wooyoung. The latter holding a large book, open on some random page that they seemed to have been discussing before he arrived. He searched for the youngest of his brothers who he found standing next to the tall blond man near the table. Jongho. Mingi. He counted them in his head, he looked around, searching for the leader of his coven. He found him, standing near the big window gazing out into the garden. Hongjoong.

A part of him felt a little better after doing the count. For some reason he had worried they would not all be here when he came back despite the fact that they were always there. No doubt. They would always be here to welcome him home after his long journey.

The blond at the window turned around and when their eyes met he gave him a smile.

"Welcome home Seonghwa. We have missed you." He said taking a few short steps forward to greet him. Taking him into an embrace which he returned.

"I am glad to be back." Seonghwa replied even if it was only half the truth. He was glad to be back seeing his brothers but in reality he was not overly pleased being back without a solution to his suffering.

"How was your journey around the world? Did you find what you were searching for?" Hongjoong questioned even though Seonghwa suspected he already knew the answer to that just like the rest in the room listening in on their conversation.

"Unfortunately I have yet to find someone or something that could help me bring back my loved one." He told him, his shoulders slumping forward. He tried to put on a neutral face but Hongjoong was smart, he could see through his facade quicker than anyone else in their coven. His eyes had shown a glimt of understanding as he nodded carefully.

"You look awful, have you been feeding at all when you have journeyed???" Wooyoungs voice pierced through the air, clearly targeted at him and he could only shrug his shoulders opting not to look at the younger vampire.

"I do not feel hungry anymore Wooyoung." Was the only thing he could give as a response and if he had not already been dead the look Wooyoung sent him would have put him 5 feet under the ground as they spoke.

"You have to feed Seonghwa. It is not healthily to avoid feeding for as long as you have! Lat time I saw you feed was three months ago before you left!" Wooyoung stalked towards him "Are you telling me you have not feed in three months??"

They stared at each other for a long while. He knew all of them already knew the answer. It was the same every year and like every year before this year Wooyoung always grew furious when he figured that he had been neglecting his own health.

Again.

He could feel the energy around him tense up. The others were clearly not happy at all with this and yet despite that Seonghwa could not get himself to care about it. Had it been the other way around he would have been furious, furious at his brothers for ignoring their health and not eating but since it was him and not them he found himself often not caring. He would rather wallow in his grief, allowing the ugly feelings tormenting him to come to the surface in various ways.

"How is my beloved? Are they still safe in their casket?" He asked, voice cracking at the word beloved.

The very thought of you not being there or the possibility of something happening to you whilst he was gone was terrifying to him and he had to fight hard to stop the tears wanting to well up in his eyes.

Wooyoungs furious eyes soften instantly when he had asked the question and the other looked at him with sympathy. Yunho nodded confirming that you were still safe, still protected in the garden he had grown just for you.

"They are safe Seonghwa. We have made sure nothing could harm them whilst you were away." San said, giving him that kind smile only San could give someone when they needed it the most. Seonghwa felt like he could see the stars in his brothers eyes at that moment and it never failed to amaze him how much love and adoration could be seen in Sans eyes and how it was always something very real. It never faded or changed no matter how many decades had passed and right now he was thankful for it.

For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.

"Why do you not sit down? Tell us about your journey? What has changed in the world since last time you went outside?" Hongjoong questioned whilst leading him over to the big chair, gently guiding him to eventually sit down in it. A blanket was placed over him, Mingi moving with utmost care to wrap it around him to keep him warm. He almost let words of protests out until he saw the worry in his eyes.

"Your beloved would not want you neglecting yourself like this." Was all he said with a low rumble before standing up and walking over to Jongho.

That stung.

His heart ached at the comment Mingi had said. Everyone had heard it. It was impossible for them not to hear him. They just pretended like nothing had been said but he knew they were silently agreeing with him. Agreeing with the statement that you, his beloved, who no longer walked this earth, would not want him to neglect himself and his health.

He wants to respond. To deny what Mingi has said. He has rationalized in his head that you would be okay with what he is doing so he can bring you back and the two of you can live together again like you did before.

The rest of his coven sits down all looking at him with curious eyes. Waiting for him to start telling them about his journey.

"It is all the same. Nothing has really changed in the outside world. We are still myths and legends. The only thing that has changed amongst humans is their greed. I would say they have become even greedier and distrusting than before."

"Humans have always been greedy and distrusting Seonghwa." Hongjoong cut him off before sending an apologetic look when he glared at his coven leader.

"I would say they are even more so now than before. I searched through every country on this bloody earth and I found no one. No one who could help me bring my beloved back. The sights I saw when wandering should have taken my breath away but all it did was make me angry. Furious that they were not next to me witnessing it all. At one point on a cliff looking out at the ocean I screamed. I cursed everything living and dead that day. I was so angry and I still am." Seonghwa spoke, his hands fiddling with the blanket as his eyes darken in anger.

His brothers look at each other in worry. They had hoped after many decade that Seonghwas fury and anger would dwindle down but it only seemed to grow with each year. Wooyoung looked at his older brother and friend in sorrow, he had been close to you, Seonghwas beloved, when you were still living and breathing. He understood the pain and anger Seonghwa was feeling but he also knew that you would not wish this upon anyone. Once having confided in him that you would want them to move forward to be happy, not to forget but to eventually come to cherish what had been rather than constantly living in the past thinking of what you could have done together if only things had gone differently.

"And I-" Seonghwa started but stopped once he heard it again.

Seonghwa.

He looked around. He swore he had heard your voice again. This time it could not have been the wind for no window was open.

"Hwa? What is wrong?" Yunhos voice brought him back from his thoughts as he turned to look at him.

"Y-you did not hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Nothing." He shakes his head "It was nothing."

"Perhaps you should go and rest?" Yeosang chimed in and the others agreed, nodding their heads.

Seonghwa looked at them before glancing around again, he was sure he heard you but now since none other than him seems to have heard you he wonders if some rest would actually help him.

So he nods and he can see the other's shoulders drop down in relaxation as if they had been expecting him to put up a fight and argue with them about resting.

"Perhaps I should... but I would like to go see them first." He feels stupid, like a child asking for permission to do something when he is the oldest in the coven. He could do whatever he wanted and if that was to go out into the rose garden and visit you then he could without permission.

He stands up before anyone can answer what he has said, he lays the blanket back on the chair before he strides towards another sets of doors which will lead him back to a corridor and down a few flight of stairs before he can enter the garden.

The doors open immediately for him and he makes a point of quietly thanking the castle for opening its doors for him. He remembers the first time he had gone out on his three month journey. When he had come back inconsolable wanting to leave that room to go see you the castle had refused. Refused to open its doors and windows for its master to go wherever he pleased.

Not until he had calmed down and only the silent tears were staining his cheeks had he been allowed out. It was after his brothers had held him close, allowing him to grieve in safety and then being given a cup of blood to drink by Wooyoung to help stabilize himself.

After that the castle had always listened to him. And now he was walking with a sense of purpose, he had to see you again. It always pains him to be away from you for three months when he spends almost every single day around you. Tending to the roses or cleaning the glass casket you lay inside whilst talking quietly to you about his days or how much he misses you.

As he walks out of the door and into the garden he stops in his tracks when he sees something or other someone walking ahead of him.

You.

He cannot stop himself before he rushes forward and just as he is to grab your hand you vanish.

"No... No no no no no!" He mumbles to himself, now sprinting towards the rose garden, you cannot be gone.

You cannot.

Seonghwa almost trips over the steps leading up to where you lay and he stops at the casket breathing heavily gripping it tightly as he takes you in.

You are still there. Untouched. Just like the way you had been when he had left three months ago.

"My beloved." He whispers and just like that the tears are welling up again in his eyes.

Seonghwa. My love.

Seonghwa gasps as he hears your voice again turning around since he can hear your voice from behind him. He had not expected to actually see you. You are pale, standing there and he notes as he falls down on his knees in shock that you are slightly transparent.

"My beloved. My love." He says while the first tear fall down his pale cheek. His voice is growing thick with emotion and when you look at him with those sad eyes he cannot help himself from crawling up to you trying to take ahold of your hand in his only to realize he is unable to.

"No. Please no. Please." He whimpers looking up at you as the waterworks starts afresh.

You have to let me go.

"No! No no no no please I cannot do that. Please I am sorry I cannot live in a world without you. Please do not leave me." He pleads over and over again trying to take ahold of you but he keeps going through you. His eyes looks almost wild as he tries everything to be able to hold you.

You can see how his heart breaks over and over at not being able to hold you and you know you cannot be visible for much longer.

I love you.

When Seonghwa notices that you are disappearing from his view is when he goes into hysterics. He wails for you to come back to him, he screams in fear, anger and grief and it echos loudly throughout the entire forest. He roars in anger, smashing a statue before breaking down again near the casket. Sobbing over and over again that he is sorry, that he wishes you would come back to him. He asks for death to take him once and for all so he can reunite with you.

He grips his head as he cries, wails and screams in fury and sadness. It is like an explosion he cannot control. Seonghwa is unsure of how much time has passed but he finds that he does not care. All he cares about is that he saw you and he could not hold you one last time like he wished he could. He contemplates for a moment to destroy your casket just so he could hold you in his arms again but he physically cannot make that move.

He cannot destroy your last sleeping place. That would be like spitting on your entire existence if he did, so he finds himself hurting himself and the statues and rose bushes around himself in a fit of anger.

Up in the castle seven figures are looking out of the window from the room they still were in. Hearing Seonghwas wails of agony and grief pained them. It was as if someone was driving a spear into their non-beating heart over and over again.

"I wish I could take away all is pain and suffering. All this grief." Jongho mumbles before leaning close to Hongjoong, hiding his face in the crook of his leaders neck as said man brings an arm around him to bring comfort.

"I never want to find my soulmate... It will only bring even more anguish to him. He will constantly be reminded of his own soulmate who he no longer has. I do not want to make him go through that." San says, tears building up in his eyes.

"You cannot stop it from happening San. Do not deprive yourself of the happiness of finding your soulmate because Seonghwa lost his. That is not something he would want. He would want you to be happy. You know that San." Yunho said whilst giving the younger a sad smile, tears also in his eyes as Seonghwa continues to scream and wail out apologies, curse words and asking for you to come back to him.

"Grief... What is not grief if not love persevering. It is proof of how much he has loved and cherished his beloved. He was just too blind in the moment that he thought he could best death and now all these years later after death won he cannot handle it. Because he has yet to fully accept that they are gone. He has yet to accept that they are gone. It might take years until he gets over the stages of anger, denial, depression and guilt. We will be there to help him through it all. I was thinking of going with him next year so he will not be alone on his journey." Hongjoong says eyes sharply focused on the figure down below.

Eyes slightly widening when he sees something or someone behind his brother before it disappears. He could have sworn it looked like you but he must have been wrong. It was probably the tears in his eyes clouding his vision.

It could not have been you.

You were dead.

Gone.

Forever.

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

Fic Masterlist | Taglist Signup

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 >>

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

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

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

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

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

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

@sanniesbum @tyudearyous @kang-ulzzang @scary-thingz @painted-hills

@kyomiingi

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

AHHHHHHHHHH MY BABIES 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

strangers by nature | vii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 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: 5.4K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, feelings of despair

Fic Masterlist | Taglist Signup

a/n: if I cried writing this chapter, ya'll are going to cry too 😭

“This morning, we bring you breaking news about the arrest of a 48-year-old woman involved in a harrowing incident connected to one of the nation's most prominent families. The woman, identified as the former nanny of the Choi Group heiress, was apprehended late last night following her mistaken discharge from Utopia Mental Health Facility.

According to investigators, the woman, whose identity is being withheld due to privacy laws, had been institutionalized after multiple previous incidents involving obsessive behavior toward the heiress and an attempted kidnapping of another six-year-old girl earlier this year…”

You sat quietly at the long wooden table in the conference room, your gaze fixed on the polished floor beneath your feet. The low hum of the news droned on in the background, the anchors’ voices a static blur. Your bandaged arm rested on the table, the gash beneath the wrappings a painful reminder of how wrong everything had gone.

“What are we going to do!?” your mother paced around the room, her voice rising with every word. Your father sat silently at the head of the table, his expression unreadable. San and Jongho exchanged knowing looks, clearly expecting another one of her tirades.

“The press won’t stop hounding us!” she exclaimed, her voice nearly cracking. “They’re everywhere—outside this building, near our home—they’re relentless! I mean, we can’t even breathe without someone taking a picture or shouting questions!”

San leaned forward, his tone calm but firm.“Kira and the firm are already doing everything they can to handle the situation. The best thing we can do now is to have Y/N lay low while the investigation continues. We need to let the lawyers and PR team do their job.”

Your mother whirled around to face him, her frustration palpable. “Lay low? How exactly do you expect her to do that when her face is on every news channel right now?”

She grabbed this morning’s paper from the edge of the table and waved it in the air, the motion so aggressive it crinkled the front page. Your face stared back at you, frozen in a manufactured smile that you hated with every fiber of your being. It wasn’t you—it was the version of you your family wanted the world to see. 

You looked down at your hands, your bandaged arm resting awkwardly on the table. The memory of the attack flashed in your mind, sharp and vivid, as though it had just happened. This wasn’t the kind of attention you wanted—this wasn’t the life you’d ever asked for. Yet here you were, front and center in a drama you had no control over, and it was tearing you apart from the inside out.

“We’re already managing the narrative,” Jongho interjected. 

“The new cycle will shift, it always does. By this afternoon, Kim Namjoon’s official announcement for his political run will dominate headlines. It’s a matter of hours. Security at all your properties has also been significantly tightened, as you requested.”

Your mother’s laugh was bitter, almost hysterical. “How could security have been tightened when Y/N was still attacked in a public place!?” your mother shrieked, her voice growing shrill.

“You were supposed to keep an eye on her, and–”

That was it. You stood up so abruptly your chair scraped against the floor, catching everyone off guard.

“It was my fault,” you said, your voice shaking but growing stronger with every word. 

“I asked Kira to let me go out with her because I didn’t want to be locked away in the penthouse anymore. I made that decision. This is my mess, my problem, and no one else’s. Pointing fingers won’t undo what happened, so can we stop pretending it will?”

Your mother stood frozen, her face pale, her mouth gaping like a fish gasping for air. She searched for a retort, an argument, anything to regain the upper hand, but you didn’t give her the chance. Without another word you stormed out of the room, ignoring the calls from your family in your wake.

You didn’t stop until you were in the corridor, far from their judgmental stares and suffocating expectations. Slowly, you slid down to the ground, your legs folding awkwardly beneath you. The tears you’d been holding back pricked at your eyes, blurring your vision as you stared blankly at the ceiling. You hated crying, especially over this, over them. But it wasn’t just the argument with your mother or the media circus that broke you down. 

It was the loneliness. 

The crushing realization that no one in that room really saw you or understood what you were going through. To them, you were an asset, a liability, a problem to solve. Not a person.

Your fingers trembled as you fumbled for your phone. But the moment you turned it on, your breath caught in your throat. Maro’s face stared back at you from your lock screen, a photo you’d taken just weeks ago.

His tiny tongue hung from the side of his mouth, his fur slightly disheveled from spinning in circles on the couch, chasing his own tail. You’d taken the photo in the middle of laughing so hard you could barely hold your phone steady. You could almost hear the soft jingle of his collar as he burrowed into the cushions, glancing up every now and then to make sure you were watching.

But the laughter felt like a distant memory now, replaced by the crushing weight of grief. Your free hand moved to your bandaged arm and your fingers curled over the wound instinctively.  

You sat hunched over in the waiting room of the emergency animal hospital with your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Every second dragged on like an eternity, Every sound made you flinch, hoping it was someone coming to tell you he’d pulled through, that he’d be okay. But as the minutes stretched into what felt like hours, your hope began to waver.

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Yeosang rushing toward you after you had called him on the way to the clinic. 

“They took him back to the operating room, but—but they wouldn’t let me go with him,” you whispered as he crouched down next to you. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he squeezed your shoulder. “He’s a fighter. Maro’s tough, and he loves you. He’s not going to give up that easily, okay? And neither should you.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without him,” you admitted. 

“He’s the only one who’s ever been there for me. He’s a dog but through these last few months he never judged me, never made me feel like I wasn’t enough. He just… loved me.”

“I can’t lose him,” your voice cracked, and just like that, the dam broke. Tears spilled freely down your cheeks, unguarded, as your body shook with uncontrollable sobs.

“He’s all I have, Yeosang.”

“I know,” Yeosang replied quietly. “I know, Y/N. And it’s not fair. But you can’t blame yourself. You did everything you could to protect him.”

His soft exhale filled the heavy silence that followed. Yeosang understood that no words could fix this. So, he simply stayed with you, letting your anguish fill the space, offering nothing but his quiet presence as you crumbled.

The sound of a door opening made you lift your head, your heart leaping into your throat. A vet in scrubs approached you, her expression solemn, and your stomach dropped. Her words were a blur, muffled by the roar in your ears, but you didn’t need to hear them to know. 

The look in her eyes said everything.

You curled in on yourself, your sobs muffled now as you pressed your face against your knees, as if trying to hold together the pieces of your shattered heart.

You let the grief take over, let the tears fall freely, because no one was there to see. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, but when the tears finally slowed, leaving you drained and empty, you lifted your head and stared blankly ahead.  

You were so tired. Tired of carrying everything alone, tired of being left behind. But no matter how much it hurt, you knew there was no one coming to share the weight. It was just you.

No one was coming. No one ever did.

It had always been just you.

⋆

Mingi sat in the garden, his small paws tucked neatly under him as he watched Hongjoong tend to his flowers. The garden was a vibrant burst of life and color. Golden marigolds lined the cobblestone pathways, nestled between the soft hues of blooming roses and sprigs of lavender. The gentle garden was otherworldly, which was appropriate considering where they are.

The afterlife was serene. Quiet. Too quiet, Mingi thought, though he’d never admit it. A part of him didn’t want to accept that this was how everything would end.

That this was it.

That he wouldn’t have the opportunity to make amends. That he wouldn’t get to see you smile again. He wouldn’t get to prove to you that he was worth forgiving, worth believing in, worth something at all.

He felt like he was suspended in a world that didn’t quite belong to him—a visitor overstaying his welcome.

Mingi sat atop a stack of books piled high with a cushion, his small, fluffy body perched precariously as his tail swayed lazily behind him. His ears twitched as he watched Hongjoong move around the cozy cottage.

“Comfortable up there?”

Mingi let out a soft huff. “I guess.”

The table was low enough for him to rest his paws on the edge, and he did so now, leaning forward as Hongjoong placed a small dish in front of him. Inside was a portion of scrambled eggs and bits of roasted sweet potato, the steam curling up in tendrils. 

“I think these are dog friendly foods, but since you’re in the afterlife now, I guess anything goes.”

Mingi sniffed the dish suspiciously, then gave an approving wag of his tail before diving in, the mess from the food around his snout making Hongjoong laugh.

“It’s good, right?” he teased, watching as Mingi polished off every last bite.

Mingi responded with an enthusiastic wiggle of his behind, his entire body vibrating with happiness. Once the dish was licked clean, he flopped onto his side with a contented sigh, his paws stretching out dramatically.

The fullness from the meal brought a fleeting sense of comfort. For a moment, everything felt simple, like when he’d curl up beside you after a long day and your presence putting him at ease. 

As his tail slowed and his breathing steadied, a hollow ache settled in his chest, heavier than the satisfaction of a good meal could counter. Mingi stared at the faint glow of the afterlife’s sky out the window.

He missed you.

The thought that he might never get to tell you how sorry he was, how much he regretted every cruel word, every moment of neglect, made his chest tighten painfully. 

Hongjoong moved among the flowers, humming a tune under his breath as he trimmed roses and pulled at weeds. Mingi’s eyes drifted to a bouquet of marigolds lying nearby, vibrant their bold orange and yellow petals standing out against the green backdrop.

His ears perked up as he stared at the flowers, a memory of you flickering to life in his mind. He remembered the day you brought home a similar bouquet, cradling it in your arms. You’d smiled softly with a distant look in your eyes, and then you disappeared again, taking the flowers with you. He realized now that those marigolds were for Hongjoong’s grave.

“Can you see what happens in the human world?”

Hongjoong chuckled softly, as if the question didn’t surprise him in the slightest. His hands stilled over a rose bush, as he turned slightly to glance over his shoulder at Mingi. 

“Sometimes,” he admitted, his gaze drifting upward, as if he could see past the skies and into another realm entirely. “It’s different for everyone. Some people can see glimpses, others nothing at all. It depends on what they hold on to when they’re here.”

“What about you?”

“I made peace with the fact that I was going to pass. Maybe a flicker here or there, but it’s never clear.”

Mingi’s paws shifted against the dirt, unease settling in his chest. That meant Hongjoong might have seen the way he treated you. Maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to know how much he hurt you in ways he could never take back.

“Do you hate me? For how I treated Y/N?”

Hongjoong didn’t respond. His expression remained unreadable, but Mingi could feel the weight of his scrutiny. Of course, Hongjoong hated the way Mingi had treated you. The way he dismissed you, how he walked away when you needed him most, leaving you to fend for yourself in ways you never should have had to. He hated the thought of you standing there, waiting for someone who never looked back.

And yet, Hongjoong also pitied Mingi. Because for all of his mistakes, for all of his cruelty and neglect, Mingi had been hurting too. As the saying goes, hurt people, hurt people.

“No, Mingi. I don’t hate you.”

Mingi’s ears twitched slightly waiting for the rest of his response.

“More than anything, I just wanted you to know what it’s like to love someone and be helpless to stop their suffering. Because that’s how I felt whenever I had the opportunity to glimpse into the human world.”

Hongjoong’s fingers trailed along the edge of a wilting petal, plucking it free and letting it drift to the ground. “But…” he murmured, his gaze flickering back to Mingi.

“What matters now is what you do with the time you have left.” 

Hongjoong’s smile turned wistful. He didn’t push for a response. Instead he gave Mingi the space to lean into his own thoughts. Mingi closed his eyes, his ears drooping as the weight of his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. 

“I…” Mingi started, but his voice wavered. He swallowed thickly, lowering his gaze to the ground as though afraid to meet Hongjoong’s eyes. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get the chance to tell her how sorry I am. I just wanted to be good for her. To show her that I can be better. That I want to be better.”

He turned to Hongjoong, the desperation tinged in his voice. "I want her to see me as someone she can trust. Not someone who always messes things up or leaves her behind." Mingi blinked back tears as he met Hongjoong’s gaze. 

“I miss her. I want to see her, but this time as myself.”

Hongjoong didn’t reply right away. Instead, he leaned back, his gaze drifting lazily toward the sky, where soft, golden light filtered through the clouds. 

“I don’t think it's over for you yet.”

Mingi’s ears flicked slightly, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean? I’m here, aren’t I? There’s nothing left for me to do. Nothing I can do."

He let out a quiet hum, neither confirming nor denying Mingi’s words. Instead, he stood, brushing stray petals from his sleeves before turning toward the small stone path leading away from the garden.

“It’s getting late, what do you want to have for dinner?”

You sat curled up on the couch in the suite, your chin resting atop your knees as you stared at Mingi’s body. Your fingers traced mindless patterns against the fabric of Maro’s collar. Sleep had been a stranger these past three days. The collar was a lifeline in your trembling hands, keeping you grounded as the weight of everything around you crushed you—the incessant calls from reporters, your family’s worried texts, the suffocating guilt.

The attack had turned your life into a circus. All you wanted was to disappear.

This room, though sterile and suffused with antiseptic air, was the only refuge you had left. Here, in the stillness of your husband’s hospital suite, you didn’t have to pretend to be okay.

“What do you think dogs do in heaven?” 

Your gaze dropped to your hospital slippers, the thin fabric worn down from countless restless nights pacing the suite. A sad smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head and set aside the collar. 

This was your reality now: sneaking away from the penthouse just to sit beside your comatose husband, pouring your heart out to someone who, if and when he woke up, would probably scoff and dismiss you for wasting your time on him.

“I heard they all go to heaven,” you continued, as your voice grew quieter. “At least…that’s what the movie says.”

A lump formed in your throat, making it harder to breathe, harder to swallow the ache.

“I think they get to run forever.”

You stared down at your hands, your fingers curling into the sleeves of your sweater.

“And…” 

Your voice wavered slightly as you struggled to find the words. 

“And there’s an endless amount of treats.”

The first tear slipped down your cheek, warm and unbidden, as if your body couldn’t contain the sorrow any longer. It was the smallest thing, but in that single tear, it felt like the world was coming apart. Your shoulders shook with a quiet sob, your chest tightening as you inhaled sharply. You squeezed your eyes shut, desperate to stop the flood, but it only made it worse.

“J-Just big o-open fields where it’s s-sunny all the time.”

And maybe it was silly, this imagining of dogs in heaven, free and happy, without the pain or heartbreak that followed you here. 

“God, I just feel so alone, Mingi. I had the worst fucking week of my life,” you cried into the emptiness, your hands trembling as you clutched your chest, hoping you could physically hold yourself together.  

“If I hadn’t begged Kira to let me go to that stupid store with her, this wouldn’t have happened. None of it.”

The words came out like a confession, one you hadn’t been brave enough to say aloud until now. 

“It’s all my fault. Everyone leaves me and it’s m-my fault!” 

Your sobs filled the room, echoing back at you like a cruel reminder that no one was there to answer. No one was there to tell you that you were wrong, that it wasn’t your fault, that the universe didn’t conspire against you with every loss. But the silence gave no comfort. 

“This is getting ridiculous.”

Unseen, Wooyoung sat perched on his bench in the courtroom, watching over you with a weary expression. His chin rested on the back of his hand, fingers idly tapping against his jaw as he observed the way your body trembled from the weight of grief.

He had seen countless souls in despair, had judged and guided those lost between life and death. But you, your suffering was different.

It was the kind of sorrow that settled into a person’s bones, an ache that would not fade with time. And as much as Wooyoung pretended he had grown numb to such things, this…this he could not ignore.

His thoughts drifted to the one soul tied to yours, the one whose fate he had carefully molded with his own hands. A certain puppy who was at the center of your suffering, both the cause of it in his human form and, ironically, the brightest light in your life now.

If Wooyoung had to guess, Mingi had made you happier than you had been in your entire life. It was a miracle, really, considering who he had been before all of this. But for all of his faults, he had taken to his new form with an earnestness Wooyoung hadn’t expected. He had tried.

The judge had watched him bumble his way through this second chance, a puppy who didn’t quite know what to do with himself. It had been amusing at first: the way Mingi stumbled over his own paws, the way he wagged his tail a little too eagerly, desperate for your affection.

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

He had seen the way Mingi softened, the way he clung to you like you were his home. The way he curled against your side as if he could take away your pain and carry it for you. 

“Song Mingi, you idiot!” Wooyoung sighed, ready to pull his hair out. 

This wasn’t supposed to be the way things ended. Mingi’s final task was to make you truly happy, to undo the damage he had done. It was the last step before he could return to his human form. But no, he had to play the hero and sacrifice himself to protect you.

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. He hated to admit it, but there was something admirable about it. For all his faults, for all the pain he had caused you, Mingi had finally learned how to love you the way you deserved. He had given up everything—his second chance, his future—just to make sure you were safe.

Now you were left behind, drowning in the weight of his sacrifice and Wooyoung couldn’t bear to see how miserable you were. 

With a flick of his wrist, the air around him trembled, the very foundation of his courtroom bending to his will. The air split with a sharp crack, and in the blink of an eye, the room dispersed into smoke, replaced by the glow of the fireplace.

“Alright, Song Mingi,” he muttered, propping his feet on the dining table. “It’s time to go home.”

⋆

“You’re late.”

Mingi blinked, his vision still adjusting as he lifted a paw to rub at his eyes, as if that would somehow make sense of what he was seeing.

“W-Wooyoung!?”

The judge sat comfortably at the dinner table, tapping his fingers lazily against the polished wood. His presence alone was jarring and Wooyoung never just showed up. If he was here, it meant something.

“It’s rude to keep guests waiting,” Wooyoung huffed, tilting his head in exaggerated disappointment. “I’ve been sitting here for ages.”

“You didn’t have a reservation,” Hongjoong deadpanned, unimpressed as he set his basket of gardening tools onto the counter. Unlike Mingi, he wasn’t startled by the unexpected visit. Instead he hummed a tune and busied himself around the cottage, grabbing ingredients for dinner. 

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung whined.

“Can it wait until after dinner?” he replied. He set a pot of water on the stove, as if the all powerful judge of the afterlife wasn’t currently lounging at their dining table.

“Fine!” he groaned, kicking his feet up onto the chair beside him.

His gaze flickered to Mingi again, and suddenly, his expression shifted.

“Oh my god.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I forgot how small you are!”

Mingi flinched. “What?”

“No wonder Y/N was so smitten with you,” he cooed, practically vibrating with excitement. “You’re so cute!”

Mingi’s eyes went wide with horror. “No, wait—”

He didn’t stand a chance. Wooyoung lunged, faster than Mingi could react, scooping him up in one swift motion. Mingi let out an undignified yelp as he was lifted clean off the ground as his little legs flailed uselessly in the air.

He spun Mingi around in his arms, cradling him like the most precious thing in the world. Hongjoong, unbothered, continued chopping vegetables in the background, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board the only indication that he was even listening. 

“I can see why all those women refused to leave you alone,” Wooyoung mused, studying Mingi as if seeing him for the first time. 

Mingi let out a strangled noise of protest. “Put me down!”

Wooyoung ignored him, instead stroking the fur between his ears with a contemplative hum. “You really don’t get it, do you?”

Mingi froze, sensing the shift in Wooyoung’s tone. It wasn’t teasing anymore. There was something thoughtful—almost wistful—beneath his words.

“I sent you there to right your wrongs,” Wooyoung said softly. “That was the deal. But instead, you sacrificed yourself like an idiot. Do you know how miserable that made her?”

Wooyoung sighed, shifting Mingi so that they were eye to eye. “You should see how sad Y/N is, I can’t stand seeing her cry anymore.”

Mingi’s ears flattened as he processed Wooyoung’s words. That didn’t make sense, did it? He had spent so much of his life pushing you away, saying the wrong things, hurting you without even meaning to. Even in the end, he had only caused you more pain by leaving.

Mingi swallowed hard, ears flicking. “But… I always made her cry.” His voice was small. “How could I have made her happy?”

Wooyoung huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You really are hopeless,” he muttered. “She was happy because you were there, dummy. Because you stuck around. Because, for the first time, you weren’t just someone passing through her life. You stayed.”

Had he really made you happy just by being there? By choosing to stay by your side, even when he thought he didn’t deserve to?

“You didn’t just make her smile a few times. You made her feel safe. You made her laugh. You made her happy without even realizing it. And you did it without asking for anything in return. I guess that's what dogs do.”

Wooyoung reached out, flicking him lightly on the nose. “And that’s why you’re going back.”

“Eh?”

“That’s right!” Wooyoung declared triumphantly, placing him on the ground. He grinned, straightening up and placing his hands on his hips.

“Even if you are an idiot who charged in without thinking, what you did was the purest act of love you could’ve shown. You held up your end of the bargain so… a deal’s a deal.”

“I’m…I’m going back?”

Mingi’s tail wagged furiously, his entire body practically vibrating with excitement. He was going back. Back to you. He could see you again, hear your voice, feel your touch. He could fix things and make things right. He wouldn’t waste this second chance.

“Eat first,” Hongjoong interrupted, scooping up a bowl of stew for the puppy.

“You won’t get far on an empty stomach.”

Mingi let out a tiny huff, his tail flicking in mild protest, but the rich aroma of the stew was too tempting to resist. He sniffed hesitantly before lapping at the bowl. The warmth of the broth spread through him instantly, soothing in a way he hadn't realized he needed. His stomach grumbled again, this time in appreciation, and he begrudgingly continued eating.

Between bites, his gaze flickered up to Hongjoong. Something about him seemed… different. His expression was just as calm and composed as ever, but there was a certain wistfulness in his eyes.

Mingi’s little tail wagged as he padded closer, tilting his head. “Are you okay?”

Hongjoong blinked, seemingly caught off guard for just a second before his lips curved into a small smile. Mingi peered up at him, and noticed the longing in his eyes. Not for something lost, but for something he once cherished.

Hongjoong reached out, ruffling Mingi’s fur with a gentle touch. “Even if things get difficult,” he murmured reassuringly, “I know everything will work out in the end.”

His hand lingered for just a moment longer before he pulled away.

“You just have to fight.”

Your eyes shot open at the sound of the alarm blaring from your phone. The shrill tone cut through the silence of the hospital room, a jarring contrast to the rhythmic beeping of the monitors. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself upright, disoriented for a moment before remembering you had set it for 8 AM, the time you usually fed Maro.

You exhaled slowly, rubbing the sleep from your face. You hadn’t meant to doze off here again, but exhaustion clung to you. You needed to go home. There were things to do. You needed to eat, too—had you even eaten since yesterday? Probably not.

“Y/N…”

Your mind moved sluggishly through a mental checklist. Feed Maro. No, he’s not here anymore. Answer texts. Call Kira. Had you remembered to bring a change of clothes? You should grab something on the way home. Maybe coffee, too.  

“...Y/N.”

For a second, you thought you were hallucinating. There was no way—no way—you heard your name. Maybe you were just overtired, running on empty. Maybe it was your mind playing cruel tricks on you. 

You shrugged, shoving your belongings into your overnight bag, preoccupied with gathering the blankets you’d let slip to the floor in your sleep. 

A strange sensation washed over Mingi as his eyes fluttered open. His body felt heavier and his senses, once heightened, dulled. In the distance, he heard the faint chime of an alarm, followed by the soft shuffling of your footsteps. The sound was muted, like a memory being replayed from another life, but it was real. 

"Be good, okay?" Wooyoung's voice was light, but there was a tightness to it, as if he was holding something back. His hands moved with gentle care, adjusting the small bandana around Mingi’s neck. 

"I don’t want to see you for another 70 years!"

Beside him, Hongjoong let out a soft chuckle, crouching down to run his fingers behind his ears. "Take care of Y/N," he murmured. 

"But most importantly, take care of yourself, okay? Give yourself some grace.”

“I will,” Mingi replied, determination settling into his voice. He wanted to hold onto this moment, to express his gratitude, but time was already pulling him away as the gate for the human world was beginning to close. 

The path before him stretched endlessly, lined with delicate white flowers that glowed under the light of the afterlife. With each step, he could feel the ground beneath his paws become less solid, as though he were walking on the edge of a dream. His body tingled, his heartbeat echoing in a different rhythm now, one that matched the pull of reality waiting for him beyond this place.

As the world around him dimmed, as his senses faded into something familiar, one thing remained unchanged—

You.

Your presence.

And the moment he opened his eyes again, the first thing he saw was you. 

Not the flowers piled up in the corner of the suite. Not the wires draped across his chest or the monitors keeping him alive. Not the light of morning spilling through the window, chasing away the shadows of the night before.

Just you.

“Y/N.”

Still, you didn’t hear him.

Mingi watched as you flitted around the room, smoothing down your wrinkled clothes, sighing at the thought of stepping outside this room and facing reality again as you grabbed your bag. 

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name was sharper and more insistent and you knew for sure you weren’t imagining it. 

You froze.

Your breath caught as something inside you, some instinct, screamed at you to turn around. Slowly, hesitantly, your head snapped toward the hospital bed.

Mingi was watching you.

His eyes were tired and heavy with exhaustion, but they were focused. Determined. His brows drew together, as if mustering every ounce of strength he had left just to make you look at him.

Your bag slid from your shoulder and hit the ground as your legs struggled to keep up. A sharp gasp tore from your lips as your chest constricted with a surge of emotions you thought you had long buried.

Relief, disbelief, and something unnamed swelled within you as you staggered forward with tears in your eyes.

Mingi’s fingers twitched again. A little stronger this time, shaking as they lifted just an inch from the bed. For a moment, they faltered, wavering midair. Then, slowly, they stretched toward you.

Reaching.

Wanting.

Your fingers trembled as you reached out, letting your hand hover over his for a moment before finally brushing against his cold skin. His hand stilled beneath yours and his fingers curled weakly as you closed yours around them.

Mingi’s eyes softened, and for a second, you thought he might try to speak, his lips parting slightly, but no sound came. His fingers squeezed yours weakly in response, and despite his weakened state, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes held yours and were filled with something that made your heart ache in the best way.

It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

Because this time, Mingi had reached for you first.

<< vi | viii >>

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

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

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

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

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

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

@sanniesbum @tyudearyous @kang-ulzzang @scary-thingz @painted-hills

@kyomiingi @tournesol155 @bee-gremlin @sutskyu @fleuresjay

@http-gyu @ishz @park-simphwa @moonsanshine @drinkingrumandcocacola

@innocygnet @jaeyunlvrs @shanabtsarmy @soso59love-blog @plum-stxr

@vcutparis @kaituyyn @blvckarabixnvoid @amazaynaastha

this was so wholesome I love it so much 🥰 i can’t wait to read more from the other members! keep up the amazing work <3

✗ sugar and sin ✗ | PARK SEONGHWA

pairings  ✃  mafia! seonghwa x fem! reader

genre  ✃  mafia au, non-idol au, SLOW BURNN

synopsis  ✃  

seonghwa goes above and beyond to eliminate his targets: going undercover in places they go to most. when you happen to spend your time in a secluded bakery, seonghwa decides to bake your treats with doses of poison - yet somehow, you keep surviving.

in which you thought you made a new friend in your local bakery, when in reality - your ‘baker’ keeps mistaking laxatives for poison.

w.c  ✃ 9.1k

c.w  ✃ dark themes, some desc of gore, poison, drink-spiking, kiss scene but no smut very very slight yandere behaviour, cursing, reader + seonghwa are in their 20s (not too relevant to plot), reader wants to be an architect.

author’s note: ngl, this story ended up a little more wholesome than i anticipated but oh well. remember to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, any and all feedback helps!

not proofread!

masterlist

it was official. you were a walking, unkillable creature sent to test seonghwa’s patience. 

you had to be at this point. that was the sixth poisoned-cream puff he’d given you this week and you were still talking on the phone about some guy you met at work. 

seonghwa’s fingers curled around the register, his knuckles turning white. when was the last time it took him this long to kill someone? five years ago?

time flies by fast - and yet it’s going painfully slow to take. you. out. 

“oh my god, no way-“ you laughed suddenly, interrupting his thoughts. 

seonghwa sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. he turned around and headed for the kitchen. if you weren’t going to die quickly, the least he could do was distract himself. 

“back to baking,” he muttered through clenched teeth. 

1 MONTH AGO - SIGHTSEEING

the early morning was cool, damp and filled with the scent of rain. the light drizzle from the grey sky above pattered against the balcony railing as birds chirped louder than the traffic below.

seonghwa sat on the metal chair, placing his steaming cup of tea onto the small table next to him. 

the balcony door slid open. 

a yawn was heard from behind him. “are you people-watching again?” hongjoong asked, rubbing his eyes. 

seonghwa didn’t look back, only nodding in response.

“you’re on food duty now, remember?” hongjoong stepped onto the balcony, sitting on the chair beside his friend. “you don’t need to look for targets..”

seonghwa leaned forward, mumbling, “is it wrong to have hobbies?” 

the morning rush was in full swing - people running with umbrellas over their heads, cars splashing through puddles and delivery workers speeding on bikes. it was oddly satisfying to watch, especially when you weren’t a part of any of it.

hongjoong rested his chin on his hand. “i don’t pay you to kill anymore. i hope you know this.”

“yeah, yeah,” seonghwa said absentmindedly, like he’d done many times before - though something caught his attention.

his eyes narrowed, focusing on a girl - must be in her early 20s, hurrying down the sidewalk with a large stack of papers in her arms. her steps were rushed, nearly bumping into the people ahead of her.

and then it happened.

she tripped over her own foot, causing her to stumble forward. the papers flew out of her grasp, scattering onto the crowded pavement. she dropped to her knees, scurrying to gather them.

but before she could, a gust of wind swept most of them down the street.

seonghwa got up from his chair abruptly, his tea long forgotten.

hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “did you see something?”

seonghwa didn’t answer. his attention was fixed on you, your hands moving as fast as possible to salvage the remaining papers. just as you managed to grab a few, a van sped through a nearby puddle, splashing you from head to toe.

you froze, shivering. and to make things worse, the light rain turned into a heavy downpour. “...fuck!”

seonghwa’s eyes lit up in fascination. 

he’d never seen someone as unlucky, unfortunate and pathetic as you in all of his years. 

you were perfect.

“seonghwa-?”

a slow, almost predatory smirk spread across seonghwa’s lips. he couldn’t take his eyes off of you - the defeated and helpless girl that stood frozen on the pavement, completely drenched. 

“i found my target.”

2 WEEKS AGO - IT’S CALLED EMPLOYMENT 

the smell of fresh bread and melted butter greeted you as you pushed the bakery door open, the small bell jingling. 

“ah ‘____’!” the old baker, mrs earl, said with a smile. “it’s good to see you again.”

you gave her a bright grin. “i brought you the new crossword,” you placed a folded newspaper on the counter.

“oh honey, you’re an angel,” she thanked.

you waved off the praise, already making your way to the display case. you grabbed your free muffin (it wasn’t technically free, but mrs earl adored you enough to turn a blind eye) and took a bite.

as you ate, she wiped her hands with a dishcloth. “you know, a boy came in today. said he wanted a job.”

you raised an eyebrow. “someone applied?” 

“mhm,” she nodded, her smile widening. “i was quite shocked, he’s very young- around your age.”

“..huh,” you said, unsure of how to respond. it was hard to imagine someone else your age showing interest in such a bakery.

mrs earl’s eyes twinkled as she giggled, “he was such a gentleman, too. handsome, if i may add.”

you grinned. “mrs earl, are you into him?”

she laughed heartily. “of course not! i still have my boys at the country club..”

“..anyways,” she continued, slightly softer. “with him around, i don’t need to come in anymore.”

“...really?”

she nodded firmly. “why not? i think he’s capable enough to manage things while i go on vacation.”

“..if you say so,” you replied, a little doubtful. 

you’ve grown so attached to mrs earl that the idea of someone else stepping in felt.. strange. even then, you quickly pushed those thoughts away. you weren’t going to stop her from having her well-deserved break.

but little did you know - across the street, seonghwa sat on a weathered bench, his eyes following you. 

you were an open book, he realised. your patterns were consistent, your routine almost boring in its predictability. lunch breaks at the bakery. post-work visits for a chat and a muffin. your world revolved around this tiny little bakery that it made you so so easy to track.

it was perfect.

and now all he had to do was wait.

1 WEEK AGO - HEY I JUST MET YOU, AND THIS IS CRAZY

holy shit. 

mrs earl wasn’t kidding when she said the new hire was handsome.

a man stood behind the counter, arranging pastries with meticulous care. his hair fell perfectly, right out of a shampoo commercial, while his skin looked impossibly flawless and clean. 

“...wow,” you breathed out before you could stop yourself.

the man turned, his sharp features softened by a slight tilt of his head. 

you blinked rapidly, scrambling to recover. “i mean- hi!” you blurted with a nervous laugh. “i’m ‘____’, i’m a regular here,” you stuck your hand out.

it took a second before he shook your hand, giving you a small, polite smile. “mrs earl told me about you.”

your rubbed the back of your neck. “good things i hope..” you chuckled, earning a nod. 

“you’re..” you looked down, squinting to read the name tag pinned neatly to his apron. “seonghwa..?”

“correct.”

as seonghwa moved to the display case, you couldn’t help but watch him. everything about him was so polished, so graceful - it was like he belonged in the movies. 

when you saw the row of pastries he was arranging, you raised an eyebrow. that’s different. 

he glanced at you. “sorry, i don’t make muffins as good as mrs earl,” he admitted sheepishly. “but i think my cream puffs are up there.”

you stared at the tray of golden, perfectly piped pastries, your mouth watering. “c-can i take one?”

his lips curled into a faint smirk, his eyes darkening slightly. “of course.”

PRESENT - PLOT ARMOUR GOES CRAZYY

outside, the world bustled with its usual chaos, but inside the bakery? everything felt calm - too calm for seonghwa, whose patience was wearing dangerously thin.

from behind the counter, he had an excellent view of you. you chatted animatedly on the phone, the sunlight streaming in making you look annoyingly serene for someone who shouldn’t be here. 

“girl- the guy at my office is cutee,” you said as you stirred the remnants of your coffee.

seonghwa’s jaw tightened. the coffee you were sipping had enough poison to kill a sumo wrestler. you should’ve been dead on the floor by now.

so how the hell were you still alive?

blissfully unaware of his glare, you laughed at something your friend said. “are you crazy? why should i make the first move?”

when he first saw you, seonghwa thought you’d be his easiest target yet. he almost pitied you. your sheer unluckiness practically screamed death. 

yet here you were, as if life itself decided to mock him.

as you hung up the call, you stood up and strolled to the counter, rummaging through your bag. “how much do i owe you?”

seonghwa shook his head, sighing. “it’s on the house,” he said. 

you paused, slipping your phone into your pocket. “seonghwa, you really need to stop giving me free food,” you pulled out a ten-dollar bill.

“but i want to,” he shrugged. 

you studied him for a moment, tilting your head. “then can i get another coffee to-go, please?”

his eye twitched.

it was such an harmless request, something seemingly so simple. yet it felt like an insult to his entire career.

still, seonghwa forced a smile, taking the cash. “of course.”

turning to the coffee pot, he poured another cup. when you looked away to check your phone, he sprinkled a little extra poison into the drink - just to be sure.

“thank you so much,” your face lit up as you took the cup from him. “you’re a lifesaver.”

the irony hit him like a truck, but he simply nodded.

as you turned to leave, he stared at the coffee pot, his mind spinning.

how? how?

you were unkillable. immune. an anomaly wrapped in plot armour so thick and absurd it made his chest ache with something he couldn’t name. 

obsession, frustration, fascination - it all blurred together into one singular thought:

he needed stronger poison.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“..helloo?” a hand waved in front of seonghwa, snapping him out of his thoughts.

seonghwa blinked, turning to find wooyoung standing beside him, wooden spoon in hand, his apron splattered in sauces. 

“you’re sanding the plate,” wooyoung smirked before turning back to the bubbling pot on the stove. 

the sound of running water filled the hideout’s small kitchen, together with the clanging of pots and pans. seonghwa stood over the sink, yellow rubber gloves on his hands as he washed the dishes.

seonghwa looked down - and to his horror, he’d been scrubbing the same spot on the plate for who knows how long. a noticeable mark formed, the glaze nearly wearing off. 

wooyoung glanced over his shoulder. “you okay?”

“yeah,” seonghwa replied.

a short silence followed before wooyoung spoke up again. “…you still haven’t killed that girl.”

seonghwa rolled his eyes, nearly breaking the ceramic in his hands. “don’t remind me. she’s invincible.”

“invincible?” wooyoung barked out a laugh, his shoulders shaking. “to you?”

seonghwa’s lips pressed into a thin line, sighing. the memory of the coffee earlier was still fresh in his mind. “my poison doesn’t work on her.”

wooyoung paused. “we have poison?”

“yeah,” seonghwa muttered, rinsing the plate and setting it on the drying rack. “the blue ones in the cupboard.”

wooyoung’s face shifted slowly from confusion, to realisation, to then poorly concealed amusement.

“seonghwa..” he began carefully, facing him. “you know those are laxatives, right..?”

the sponge in seonghwa’s hand nearly slipped into the soapy water. “..what?”

“they’re laxatives,” wooyoung repeated. “i mean, they do look the same, but they’re laxatives.” 

seonghwa stared at him. “those are the only ones left- what happened to my poison?”

“we uh-” wooyoung hesitated, shifting on his feet. “we crushed it up and made paint..”

the air in the kitchen turned deathly still.

“you what?”

“i thought no one used it-!”

“i use it-! who makes paint with pills?” seonghwa snapped, his hands gripping the edges of the sink. he exhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm. “now i have to get more from that dealer.”

“uhh..” wooyoung cringed.

seonghwa turned to him, narrowing his eyes. “don’t tell me..”

wooyoung gulped, nodding slowly. “...san killed him.” 

WEEK 3 - TOUCH GRASS

the sound of your best friend’s voice echoed from your phone as you sat by the window, nibbling on the cream puff seonghwa gave you - again.

“i know this is TMI,” you said quietly. “but i’ve been shitting a lot lately. i don’t know if it's my period or lactose intolerance acting up.”

as you took another bite, the cream puff melted in your mouth, its sweetness making you temporarily forget about your bowel issues. 

rejecting it felt stupid - it was free. sure, it was weird that seonghwa kept giving you free food, but mrs earl trusted him, so why shouldn’t you?

still, you couldn’t quite figure him out. the man had a habit of glaring at you from across the bakery. were you that pretty? yes. but his glares didn’t feel like he was admiring you. they leaned more towards… anger.

your friend on the other end of the call burst out laughing - and you joined her for a moment. but before your friend could reply, your phone screen went black. 

“ugh, seriously?” you grumbled, tapping the screen repeatedly. with an annoyed sigh, you stuffed the dead phone into your bag.

with nothing else to do, your attention shifted. your eyes eventually landed on seonghwa, who was watching you with a blank face. 

it wouldn’t hurt to get to know him, right? after all, you see him everyday - and since your phone died, maybe it’s finally time to get some real human interaction in.

you gave him a wide smile. “hey, seonghwa.”

he blinked, visibly startled. “i uh-”

“-why don’t you sit with me?” you asked. “you’re not busy, are you?” 

for a moment, he seemed frozen. but somehow, you managed to convince him to sit across from you.

“so...” you began. “how are you?”

“good.”

you blinked. this wasn’t the riveting conversation you were hoping for.

unfazed, you continued. “how’s work been? stressful?”

he exhaled softly, shaking his head. “it’s fine. how about you? how’s work?”

“it’s alright,” you shrugged. “it’s gotten better since i started coming here. the vending machines at work are always broken.”

he nodded, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “yeah- it’s even more convenient since it’s walking distance, right?”

you paused. 

“...how do you know that?”

seonghwa’s fingers froze mid-tap. 

“mrs earl,” he said finally. “she said a lot of her regulars work in the area.”

“oh, that makes sense,” you said, your suspicions fading quickly. you glanced out the window, your face softening. “i miss her..”

seonghwa let out a quiet sigh of relief, nodding as though he agreed with you.

but inside, his mind was screaming. that was way too close. 

focus.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you kicked your shoes and slumped onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. the day had been.. something. your chat with seonghwa was pretty awkward, but more than anything, it made you miss mrs earl.

reaching for your phone, you dialed her number.

“‘____’! my favourite customer,” she greeted cheerfully, the background noise filled with chatter and clinking glasses.

“mrs earl!” you replied. “how are you? are the boys at your country club treating you well?”

“oh, you know how they are,” she giggled. “trying to impress me with golf and fancy dinners. it’s nice to relax for a change.”

you chuckled, sinking deeper into the couch. “that sounds perfect. you deserve it.”

the conversation flowed easily unlike the one earlier. you updated her on the usual - work and office gossip. but eventually, the topic drifted to the bakery.

“i hope the new boy hasn’t burned the place down,” mrs earl began.

“he’s actually a pretty good baker,” you said. “his cream puffs are unreal-”

you paused for a moment before you added. “though i have to say, they make my stomach hurt whenever i eat them.”

the line went quiet.

“...please elaborate,” mrs earl chuckled softly.

“i mean- i don’t know,” you shrugged, even though she couldn’t see it. “after i eat his pastries, my trips to the toilet are… traumatic.” you let out a small laugh. “but they’re so tasty, it’s worth the lactose intolerance.”

another silence followed, longer this time. you frowned slightly, shifting on the couch. 

“mrs earl?”

her voice finally came through, slower this time. “that’s.. impossible, my dear.”

“what do you mean?” you asked, sitting a little straighter.

“well,” she began carefully. “the bakery strictly uses oat milk. we don’t use any dairy products in our pastries.”

“...what?”

“the cream, the milk- everything is plant-based,” she continued. “it’s been that way for years. didn’t i tell you that when you first came in?”

you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out.

mrs earl’s voice broke the silence again. “it could be something else. you’ve been stressed, haven’t you?”

“yeah..” you replied automatically, though your thoughts were far from the conversation.

“take care of yourself, honey,” she said gently. “i have to go, but call me again soon, okay?”

you nodded. “okay.. bye, mrs earl.”

“stay well, ‘____’.”

the call ended, leaving you sitting on the couch, phone in hand. for a long moment, you stared at the screen, her voice echoing in your head. 

the bakery strictly uses oat milk.

MONTH 1 - I WAS SPACING OUT

you sat at your regular table by the window, flipping through your notebook while sipping on your coffee.

you tapped your pencil against the table. yes, ‘traumatic’ was probably an exaggeration for your bathroom trips - but if there was no dairy in seonghwa’s cream puffs, then what was messing with your stomach?

you quickly shook your head, a sigh escaping your lips. ‘too weird to think about,’ you thought to yourself. whatever it was, the food was worth it.

you returned back to sketching, taking out your ruler to make straight lines. but as you drew, you couldn’t help but feel a certain someone’s eyes on you. 

“you’re staring again,” you said without looking up. 

a long pause settled over the bakery before you heard a, “..no, i wasn’t.”

you glanced up, a smile tugging at your lips. “wanna see what i’m working on?” 

and that was how seonghwa found himself unusually close to you, sitting beside you as you showed him your sketches - clean lines forming buildings, bridges and intricate floor plans. 

“you like drawing?” he asked.

“yeah,” you nodded, flipping to another page. “i wanted to be an architect.” 

seonghwa’s brow furrowed slightly. “then why aren’t you doing it?” 

you let out a laugh. “because i’m broke,” you said simply. “i’d rather work in an office than take out student loans.” 

you flipped through more sketches - some labelled with small notes in the margins while others had more detailed calculations. “it’s just a little hobby of mine.”

seonghwa’s eyes darted between you and the notebook. “this doesn’t look like a hobby,” he muttered.

you raised an eyebrow. “what does it look like then?”

“it looks like something you’re serious about.” 

you paused, blinking at him before leaning closer. “i’m serious about a lot of things, seonghwa- but that doesn’t mean i make a career out of them.”

the silence between you stretched as you flipped through the pages. the energy shifted to something you couldn’t quite explain - and as you tilted the notebook to show him a certain sketch, you realised that his eyes weren’t even on the paper anymore, they were on you. 

you sighed, closing the notebook. as you slipped it into your bag, you noticed how his eyes were still following you, sharp yet strangely soft with concern.

“don’t worry-” you said, smoothing out your clothes. “i’m perfectly content with where i am now.”

“are you?” he asked.

you met his eyes for a moment longer than usual. “yep,” you finished the last sip of your coffee. “how could i not be? free cream puffs and all, right?”

seonghwa didn’t respond.

“thanks for looking at my sketches,” you smiled, turning away. “hope i didn’t bother you.”

as he watched you walk out the door, he let out a slow sigh he didn’t realise he was holding, running a hand through his hair.

he stared up at the ceiling, leaning back into the chair. and for the first time in a long time, seonghwa felt sympathy. 

MONTH 2 - FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC 

over the past few weeks, you developed the habit of waving seonghwa over to join you whenever you stopped by the bakery. what started as polite small talk turned into embarrassing work stories you had.

this afternoon was no different. you sat across from him, coffee in one hand and a half-eaten cookie in the other, complaining about your friends’ latest questionable decision.

“yeah, she doesn’t listen to me,” you took a bite out of the cookie. “like- why fuck him if you hate him, y’know?”

behind his usual composed self, you caught the faintest twitch of seonghwa’s lips, followed by a sound so soft you almost missed it - a low chuckle.

you froze mid-bite. “did you just.. laugh?”

seonghwa raised an eyebrow. “yeah..?”

you leaned forward, eyes wide with excitement. “i’ve never seen you laugh before.”

“i’m sure you have,” he blinked.

“no, i would’ve remembered it,” you shook your head, grinning. “i like it.”

seonghwa choked, caught off guard. before he could even respond or process what you said, his phone buzzed in his apron pocket. he glanced at the screen and frowned.

“excuse me,” he said, heading to the small kitchen in the bakery, leaving you slightly confused.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

seonghwa pressed the phone to his ear. “what?” he asked.

“i got your poison ready,” san’s voice came through.

seonghwa nearly dropped his phone, swallowing the lump in his throat. “...really?”

“yeah- you wanted it extra strong, right?” san continued. “it took some tweaking, but it’s ready to go.”

the baker’s eyes darted to the half-open kitchen door. he could almost picture you sitting on the other side of it. “right… good.”

this was it. no more laxatives, no more delays.

it’s real now.

the thought of finishing the job left a strange knot in his chest - not dread exactly, but something close to it.

he wasn’t supposed to feel this way - no, he’s never felt this way. his work had always been detached. he never tried to make connections outside of the world of crime, didn’t deal with people who weren’t tied to his web of blood.

not until you came along.

you talked to him like he was.. normal. like he was a regular guy in a regular bakery.

he was finally seen as a person, not a killer. 

it was refreshing. 

“hello?” san’s voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“i uh-“ seonghwa cleared his throat, realising that he was silent for too long. “just leave the poison on my desk. i’ll get it later.

“sure,” san replied before adding, “but don’t overthink it, okay? just get it done.”

seonghwa hung up, staring at his phone for a moment before slipping it back into his pocket.

just get it done.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

from your seat, you only caught bits and pieces of seonghwa’s call. you didn’t mean to listen in, but your ears got carried away. 

his voice was low and hard to hear, muffled by the thin walls of the bakery - but one word stood out: poison.

your brows furrowed as you leaned back into your chair, the word echoing in your mind. poison? like food poisoning? did he get it? was that what you had?

you pushed those thoughts out of your mind. after all, what were the odds that your new friend seonghwa said something like ‘poison’ in a bakery of all places? you must’ve misheard.

the door creaked open as seonghwa stepped out, dusting his apron off as he walked back to the table.

“sorry about that,” he said, sitting across from you.

you tilted your head. “everything okay?”

“yeah,” he replied - but you swear you caught a hint of guilt in his eyes. “where were we?”

MONTH 3 - THIS ISN’T FUN ANYMORE

you wandered through the aisles that had shelves lined with tools, appliances and decorations. mrs earl invited you out for a little shopping spree, wanting to pick out a few things for her house.

as she inspected a stack of plates, something caught your attention - a small set of colourful forks, each with cute designs of fruits and animals.

“these are adorable,” you muttered as you picked it up.

mrs earl looked over your shoulder. “i didn’t know you liked these things.”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “oh- i do, but this is for seonghwa.”

“for seonghwa?” she raised an eyebrow.

“yeah,” you nodded. “he’s always giving me free food. i just thought it’d be nice to get him something.”

mrs earl’s lips curved into a knowing smile, though she said nothing. instead, she patted your shoulder and moved to examine another shelf.

over the past few weeks, seonghwa had become quite a good friend of yours. after all, you saw him everyday and you started to look forward to his presence whenever you stopped by.

and honestly? you’ve been wanting to pay him back for ages. all the free pastries, coffees and times he let you ramble on about work without looking annoyed. he needed.. compensation, if that was what it was called.

you sighed. what if he thought you were weird? well, it didn’t really matter - you wanted to do this.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the bakery was quiet and empty. seonghwa stood at the counter, his fingers gripping a small packet of crushed pills in one hand and the coffee you ordered in the other.

the poison felt heavier that it should, sinking into his palm as a reminder of what he was about to do. his mind spun, his thoughts fuzzy.

was this really happening?

he stared at the packet, his breathing shallow. it took him longer than usual to go near the wretched thing, let alone hold it. now, standing with the poison scarily close to your coffee, the reality set in.

your life was in his hands.

seonghwa’s chest tightened. he could just stop, throw the poison away, pour the coffee down the sink and pretend that none of this happened. after all, no one was forcing him to do this - except himself.

he sighed shakily, his fingers trembling as he began to shove the poison into his pocket.

but then the door swung open. you weren’t supposed to be back yet.

“hey seonghwa-!”

your voice startled him. his eyes snapped to the door as you walked in with paper bags, followed by mrs earl.

“i got you something-“ you said before your smile faltered, your eyes landing on the packet in his hand. “is that.. wait- is that drugs?”

seonghwa coughed, fully shoving it into his pocket quickly. “no- it’s not-”

your eyes narrowed - and before seonghwa could react, you went behind the counter and reached into his pocket, pulling out the packet.

“wait-”

your lips parted as you read the label. “...poison?” you breathed out.

the words hung in the air.

your eyes darted to the coffee cup still clutched in his other hand. it was unmistakably yours, your drink order obvious. and it didn’t take long for the pieces to click.

“are you-“ you gulped. “...are you trying to kill me?” you asked, your voice trembling.

seonghwa stood frozen, unable to respond. 

mrs earl, who was trailing behind, looked at the packet in your hand, then at seonghwa.

“what is the meaning of this?” she demanded. she stormed over to him, grabbing a nearby towel and smacking it across his shoulder. “i trusted you with my food! my bakery! and this is what you do?!”

seonghwa flinched but didn’t resist. his eyes, however, weren’t on mrs earl - they were on you.

you were completely still, the poison clutched in your hands. 

seonghwa opened his mouth to say something - anything, but the words died before they could form. you couldn’t even look at him, your eyes wide and unfocused.

ignoring how his chest tightened, he turned and dashed - leaving nothing but silence in the bakery.

mrs earl paced angrily, muttering curses under her breath. but you didn’t hear her - you couldn’t. your eyes remained fixed on the packet, your breathing heavy.

you sat down, throwing the poison far away from you. your heart pounded in your chest, each beat louder than the last. 

holy shit.

he was going to kill you. 

MONTH 4 - ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?

you leaned back in your seat, stretching your arms above your head. you powered down your computer, your office building quiet - working overtime seemed more tiring than usual.

you grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder when your eyes landed on a small box tucked into the corner of your desk.

the fork set.

for weeks, you avoided looking at it. the sight of it was a reminder of the bakery - your now-dead friendship with seonghwa and the moment you realised he tried to kill you.

why did you even keep this?

you didn’t want to bring it home. you didn’t want to keep it at all. maybe it was time to throw it away and be done with it. 

you stepped out of your office building, the streets eerily silent. the only source of light you had were the streetlights that shined yellow light onto the pavement.

you clenched the fork set in your hands.

poison.

the word did circles around your mind, sending an uncomfortable feeling throughout your body. was that why your stomach always hurt after eating his pastries? was he actually trying to poison you the whole time?

the idea of it stung. you thought back to all the times you trusted him, to all the times you talked.

was any of it even real?

your thoughts were interrupted by the faint sight of movement you caught from the corner of your eye.

you stopped, glancing to the alley to your left. at first, it was hard to make out what you were seeing, the shadows dark. but then you froze.

a man stood there, holding a gun.

and someone else was infront of him, pinned against the wall.

your breath hitched when you realised who it was.

seonghwa.

his eyes locked onto yours, wide with fear as the gunman barked something you couldn’t hear. his face was bruised, blood smeared along his jaw and soaking his shirt.

you gulped.

this man tried to kill you. you could just.. walk away, pretend this didn’t happen.

you took a step back, everything in your body telling you to leave. but then, seonghwa’s trembling hand reached toward you, his fingers shaking as he silently pleaded.

shit.

you don’t know what compelled you - pity or something else entirely, but your grip tightened on the box in your hand. quickly, you opened it, grabbing the first fork you saw.

without thinking, you chucked it at the gunman.

the fork struck his shoulder with a dull thud, making him whip around in shock, pointing the gun at you.

your heart stopped. this was it.

but seonghwa worked fast.

grabbing the fork, he lunged forward with all the strength he had, driving it into the gunman’s neck.

the man stumbled, choking as he clawed at his throat, slumping to the ground.

seonghwa collapsed to his knees, panting heavily as the fork clattered from his hand to the pavement. blood dripped from his fingertips, pooling around him as he pressed a hand to his side, trying to stop his wound from bleeding.

“...thank you,” he managed to say, his voice hoarse.

you stared at him, your chest heaving. you stepped closer, looking down at his bloodied state. “damn it.”

seonghwa glanced up at you, his eyes filled with… gratitude? sincerity? relief? or was that desperation?

you sighed, shaking your head. “you’re lucky i’m a nice person.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

“i’m sorry-”

“don’t talk to me,” you cut him off, shoving a cold can of soda into his hand.

you brought seonghwa to your office, the only place you could think of where he wouldn’t be found - or bleed out. he sat in your coworker’s chair, guilt written all over his face.

with a heavy sigh, you sank into your own chair across from him, leaning back as you tried to catch your breath.

for what felt like an eternity, the two of you sat in silence, your eyes locked in an unspoken fight. dark red tissues piled up beside seonghwa as he pressed another one to the cut on his cheek, wincing.

you didn’t want to feel sorry for him. you didn’t want to care. but seeing him like this - injured, his clothes stained with the horrid look of blood, made it impossible to ignore the way your stomach twisted.

“...how did you end up like this?”

your words cracked, betraying the hurt and confusion you tried so so hard to bottle up.

“i-” began before stopping himself, his voice faltering. he pressed his lips into a thin line, looking away from you. 

EARLIER THAT DAY

“wha-? you can’t say no, seonghwa,” hongjoong snapped. “this is your job.”

seonghwa slouched deeper into the couch, arms crossed over his chest. his eyes followed his boss as he paced around the room. “i don’t want to go.”

“‘i don’t want to go’,” hongjoong mocked, stopping mid-step to glare at him. “i’m not asking you to go, i’m telling you.”

seonghwa stayed silent.

“come on,” hoongjoong ran a hand through his hair. “we got a tip they’re loitering around these streets. the least you could do is check it out.”

‘they’.

aka the drug cartel that had been bothering hongjoong and the group for months. even then, seonghwa shook his head, refusing his boss’s orders.

hongjoong let out a frustrated sigh. “you’ve been like this ever since you failed to kill that girl. you’re depressed- go outside.”

seonghwa’s head snapped up. “i’m not depressed,” he glared.

“right,” hongjoong chuckled dryly. “because moping and lazing around is normal behavior for you. wake up.”

seonghwa bit back a retort, his nails biting into his palms. he wasn’t depressed. he wasn’t.

was he?

a heavy silence settled over the room. sure, the last few weeks have been.. off. he hadn’t been sleeping well. his appetite was nonexistent. and everytime he thought about you, he felt an ache in his heart that he couldn’t quite shake.

it wasn’t depression. it was just a.. slump.

he was not depressed. 

seonghwa sighed, rolling his eyes. “whatever,” he muttered finally. he pushed himself up. “i better be paid good for this.”

PRESENT

seonghwa gulped, staring at the bruises on his arms. finally, he met your eyes, shifting uncomfortably. “...it’s just my job.”

you crossed your arms. “your job?”

he said nothing.

“seonghwa-” you began, leaning forward. “what kind of job leaves you looking like this?”

his shoulders stiffened, and for a moment - you thought he wouldn’t answer. but then he sighed, wiping his bloody hands on his shirt. 

“if i tell you,” he said. “you need to promise me something.”

you raised an eyebrow. “promise what?”

“that you won’t tell anyone.”

a dry laugh escaped your lips. “i’m not promising anything. spit it out.”

“...i’m in a gang.”

“wha-” you stared at him, your face blank for a second before you let out a snort and cackle. “you’re joking, right?”

but when he didn’t laugh, you froze.

“wait- you’re not joking?” you asked, your voice quieter.

he shook his head.

his words hit you like a wave. your mind spun, connecting the dots - the poison, his sketchy behaviour, the guilty look in his eyes - it all fell into place.

“...is that why you tried to kill me?” you asked after a long pause. “what did i do?”

“that’s..” seonghwa trailed off, looking away. “unrelated.”

you rolled your eyes. “of course it is.”

his face softened into something almost remorseful. “i don’t really know how to talk about this,” he said. “but i know i’m sorry.”

“you didn’t have to save me, but you did,” he leaned forward. “and i keep wondering why- because if it was the other way around, i don’t think i would’ve done the same.”

you raised your eyebrow.

“i’m sorry, really,” he said, quieter now. “i don’t know what else i can say, but i just.. i don’t want you to think i’m taking any of it lightly.”

you stared at him, surprised by how sincere he was. “seonghwa..”

“i know an apology won’t fix anything,” he said. “but i’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”

“whatever it takes?” you asked, furrowing your brows. 

he nodded quickly.

you scoffed, leaning in closer, your eyes piercing his. “if you really mean that, prove it.”

“i will,’ he said immediately.

“…uhuh,” you looked him up and down before standing, grabbing your bag. “you can start by cleaning the blood off of my coworker’s chair.”

he let out a faint chuckle, though it was more self-deprecating than anything. before you walked away, you paused, turning back to him.

“seonghwa?”

“yeah?”

you stepped closer, grabbing his collar and pulling him towards you. “before you try anything stupid, remember this: i still have that poison of yours.”

MONTH 5 - WALK HIM LIKE A DOG

you had to admit - it was convenient having your own personal assistant, even if the circumstances were… complicated.

it wasn’t like you asked for this arrangement. seonghwa brought it upon himself, showing up whenever you called. 

printer jammed? he’d be there in ten minutes. out of pens? he’d have a pack delivered to your desk. of course you didn’t trust him with tasks involving your drinks or food, but even then - he made himself useful with other things.

over time, you got used to calling him for simple errands - and he never complained. 

it was most definitely awkward though, especially when he tried to make small talk with you.

“..your hair looks nice,” he said once as he stood by your desk.

“thanks,” you replied, not looking up from your screen.

a moment passed. you glanced over your shoulder, raising an eyebrow when you noticed he was still standing there. “...do you need something?”

he quickly shook his head, turning away as he muttered an apology.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it amusing. as much as you hated to admit it, having him around wasn’t unbearable. 

as days turned into weeks, the distrust you held so tightly began to loosen its grip. it wasn’t like you forgot what he did, there were just moments when he seemed normal.

“you’re terrible at this,” you smirked, watching him struggle to assemble the new office chair you ordered.

he looked up at you. “i might be terrible, but at least i can read the instructions.”

you laughed.

but then you’d remember.

you’d remember the poison, the fact that this man tried to kill you for what seemed like no reason. 

and everything goes back to square one. 

MONTH 5.5 - T.G.I.F BY KATY PERRY

that friday, your coworkers insisted on dragging you out for a night at the club.

“let’s get wasted!” they said. “it’ll be fun!” they said.

that was probably a lie, but you gave in, changing your clothes before heading out.

neon lights shined erratically, painting the crowd in shifting shades of red, blue and green. bass-heavy music filled the club, so loud that it felt like waves went through your body. it was chaotic and packed to the brim with bodies swaying and stumbling.

it’d only been ten minutes and you already lost sight of your coworkers in the sea of people.

“shit,” you muttered under your breath, trying to find the exit. 

you pushed through drunk, clumsy dancers, finally spotting the door. but as you approached it, two towering men stepped infront of it, their shoulders forming an impenetrable wall.

“wha-?” you frowned, stopping. “i can’t leave?”

they didn’t respond.

“fine, whatever,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. if you were going to be stuck here, might as well grab a drink.

you made your way to the bar, squeezing between a group of rowdy patrons to get the bartender’s attention. but just as you opened your mouth to order, you heard a voice behind you.

“hey, angel.”

you paused, glancing behind to see a man standing way too close. he was quite well-dressed, but an unsettling smirk settled on his face.

“excuse me?” you raised an eyebrow.

“can i buy you a drink?” he purred, leaning closer. “i think i’ll regret it if i don’t.”

you blinked. “no, it’s okay-“

“-two shots of tequila,” he called out to the bartender, cutting you off. 

you stared at him, barely processing his words before a shot glass was placed infront of you, the clear liquid weirdly fizzing. 

“thank you, but i don’t-“

“drink.”

before you could react, his hand was at the back of your head, tilting it back as he pressed the shot glass to your lips. the liquid burned as it slid down your throat - making you cough violently while the heat seared your chest. 

“wha- what is happening?” you mumbled. your limbs felt heavy and your head was spinning as your vision blurred. 

the man’s smirk deepened, his face inches from yours as he gripped your wrist. “let me ask you something, angel.”

you blinked, your thoughts sluggish and messy.

“what do you know about a man named park seonghwa?”

the name hit you in the face, your breath hitching. “i-”

his grip on your wrist tightened painfully. “answer.”

“he’s just a baker,” you said quickly.

the man chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down your spine. “are you sure?”

you nodded, unable to form a response.

he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear. “then why did he poison my boss a few months ago?”

poison. 

that stupid stupid word haunting you again. 

the man laughed again, low and ominous. “you had a reaction there- you know something i don’t?”

you shook your head weakly, the motion making your dizziness worse. your knees buckled slightly, making you grip the edge of the sticky counter to steady yourself.

suddenly, the man’s phone buzzed in his pocket. he pulled it out, still holding you firmly in place.

“yeah,” he said after a moment. “i got his girlfriend right here.”

your eyes widened. “i’m not his girlfri-”

before you could finish, his hand clamped over your mouth, muffling your words.

“sleep,” he whispered, your world fading to black.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

seonghwa laid in bed, staring at the ceiling where his fan spun. with a sigh, he shifted under the covers, letting sleep take over him.

but just as he closed his eyes, his phone buzzed on the nightstand. his brows furrowed as he reached for it.

he swiped to answer it, not looking at the screen. “yes?”

“hey seonghwa,” a low, gruff voice was heard on the other end.

instantly, he was wide awake, sitting upright in the bed. his grip on the phone tightened. “...who is this?”

the voice chuckled. “i got your pretty little girlfriend right here- knocked out like a light.”

seonghwa paused. “...girlfriend?”

“yeah,” the man replied. “the chick you’re always hanging around. surprised you weren’t with her, thought i’d have to put up a fight.”

seonghwa’s blood turned cold as the realisation hit.

you.

he didn’t waste another second. he hung up immediately, throwing off the covers as he leapt out of bed, grabbing his jacket.

his footsteps echoed through the hideout as he stormed toward jongho’s room. he barged through the door without knocking, startling jongho who was hunched over his gaming setup.

jongho spun around in his chair. “what the hell-?”

“trace this number. now,” seonghwa shoved the phone into jongho’s hands.

jongho blinked. “i’m in the middle of a game.”

“i don’t care.”

jongho groaned, taking his headset off as he tapped the phone screen. “fine.”

seonghwa paced around the room like a caged animal - his fists clenching and unclenching as he tried to calm himself down. if they’d taken you, it was most definitely his fault. 

“got it,” jongho said after a while, typing something into his laptop. “you want me to track the phone too?”

“yes-” seonghwa snapped. “hurry.”

jongho glanced up at him, his brows furrowed. “what’s going on?”

“someone has her,” seonghwa muttered.

jongho’s eyes widened slightly, his fingers flying over the keyboard. “i thought you were over her?”

“wha- no,” seonghwa glared at him. “just find her.”

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you slowly woke up, your head throbbing. your first attempt to open your eyes was met with darkness. no - something pressed against your face. a blindfold. 

your body felt stiff, the coarse bite of rope digging into your wrists and ankles. inhaling shakily, you realised something else: your mouth was muffled by a towel, trapping your cries before they could escape.

panic ran around your mind as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. the surface beneath you swayed gently - and you could hear the occasional creak of metal together with muffled voices. a vehicle. you were in a moving vehicle.

but out of nowhere, you heard a shout.

“shit!”

the vehicle swerved violently, the tires screeching against the asphalt with a sound sharp enough to make you wince. your body jerked with the motion, the restraints keeping you in place. tears spilled beneath your blindfold, your breaths shallow and rapid against the towel.

the screeching came to an abrupt stop, followed by the jarring slam of a door.

what came next was a symphony of screams and the sickening, wet sounds of a blade piercing flesh, bodies hitting the ground. you clenched your fists, trembling.

the next door opened. 

another scream. 

another stab.

then silence.

your chest heaved, your heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. was this it? were you next?

then your blindfold slipped away.

your eyes fluttered open, the tears caught in your lashes making your eyelids feel heavy. when your vision eventually cleared, the first thing you saw was him.

seonghwa. his face splattered with blood, his dark eyes wide as he searched yours. his chest rose and fell as he tried to catch his breath.

“are you okay?” he asked, removing the towel from your mouth.

tears spilled down your cheeks faster now, your emotions overwhelming you in a way you’ve never felt before.

seonghwa’s face softened as he wiped your tears with his thumb, the blood on his hands smearing across your skin.

he moved to the ropes binding your wrists and ankles, his hands working quickly. 

“i’m sorry,” he said softly. “i’m so sorry- shit. i should’ve stayed away from you.”

the moment you were free, you threw your arms around him. he stiffened at first, caught off guard, but then his hands moved to your back.

your body shook against his as you cried. over his shoulder, you saw the man at the bar - his lifeless body crumpled on the ground, stab wounds dotting him.

“i’m so sorry,” seonghwa whispered again, his hand rubbing slow circles on your back. “this is all my fault.”

you pulled back slightly, your face still wet with tears. his hands stayed on your shoulders. “did they hurt you?” he asked softly.

you shook your head.

the vehicle fell into a heavy silence, the only sounds being your sniffling.

seonghwa gulped. “i’m sorry-”

“-thank you,” you said at the same time.

both of you froze, your words overlapping.

you chuckled, tears still clinging to your lashes.

“i’m really sorry,” he said once more, his voice cracking.

you studied him for a moment, taking in his disheveled hair, the blood on his skin and the exhaustion in his eyes. 

“...were you sleeping?” you asked, noticing the pajama shirt peeking out from under his jacket.

“yeah, i was about to.”

your eyes widened. “you saved me even though you were about to sleep?”

he raised an eyebrow. “was i not supposed to?” 

you stared at him, stunned. “...thank you.”

MONTH 6 - JUST DO IT

you’ve been staring at the text for hours, the words glowing on your phone screen.

let’s meet up.

seonghwa sent it to you that morning. no follow-up, no explanation, just those three words. and yet, they felt more heavy than you could even imagine.

what could you even say?

you tried to distract yourself, grabbing your laptop and scrolling through social media, but nothing held your attention for more than a second. your mind kept drifting back to the message.

your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with another notification. not him. but you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at the text again.

let’s meet up.

‘he saved you-’ you reminded yourself. ‘-but he also tried to kill you.’

it should’ve been simple. black and white. a clear boundary between trust and mistrust. but nothing about seonghwa was simple.

when you thought about him, the first thing that came to mind wasn’t the poison or the lies. 

it was his hands, trembling as he untied you. 

it was his voice, breaking with regret as he apologised. 

it was the way he looked at you, like he didn’t deserve your forgiveness but was desperate for it anyway.

you hated it.

you hated that he saved you. hated how jumbled your feelings were.

and most of all, you hated how much time you spent thinking about him and his stupidly flawless face. 

you groaned, tossing your phone onto the couch. “this is ridiculous.”

this wasn’t what you needed right now. you grabbed your bag and went out the door. maybe grocery shopping would clear your head.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

the store was crowded, filled with after-work shoppers. you walked aimlessly, picking up a few essentials here and there, but your mind was still on that text.

you stopped at the fridges, grabbing a drink. but as you turned to place it in your basket, you collided with someone. “watch it-” you began.

your words fell short when you realised you bumped into seonghwa, his phone in one hand and an awkward expression on his face. his eyes widened - and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

“hey,” he said finally.

you blinked, letting out a nervous chuckle. “hey,” you raised your free hand in a small wave.

“...can we talk?”

you nodded slowly. “yeah,” you put your drink into your basket. “what’s up?”

seonghwa glanced around, looking at the other shoppers nearby. “maybe not here.”

you nodded, heading to the checkout line without another word.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

you sat beside seonghwa on a wooden bench, your grocery bag resting at your feet. the both of you settled down in a park, a quieter and less busy place where you could actually breathe.

you reached for your drink, opening it. “thirsty?” you asked, holding it out to him.

he shook his head.

“i didn’t poison it,” you smirked.

seonghwa gave you a look, his ears turning pink. “you know i feel bad about that,” he muttered.

you chuckled softly, taking a sip. “sorry, sorry,” you said, turning to face him fully. “what did you want to talk about?”

he paused, hesitating as he fiddled with the edge of his jacket. “i just wanted to apologise,” he said finally.

you sighed setting the drink aside. “seonghwa- this is the hundredth time you’ve said that.”

“i know but-”

“i forgive you,” you said, your mouth moving faster than your mind.

his head snapped up, his eyes wide with disbelief. “what?”

“i forgive you,” you repeated, more confidently this time.

“...really?” he asked, completely shocked.

“yeah,” you shrugged. “you saved me. and it’s not like i can stay mad at you forever.”

seonghwa blinked. “you definitely can,” he said. “i wouldn’t blame you for it.”

silence fell between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. 

his fingers brushed against yours accidentally - and he instantly pulled his hand back, his face turning a shade of red. “oh my god- i’m so sorry-”

“seonghwa,” you interrupted, reaching for his hand and holding it gently - his fingers slightly calloused. “stop apologising.”

“i can’t help it,” he admitted quietly.

everything seemed to come to a standstill.

the distant sounds of birds chirping and leaves rustling faded into the background. your eyes locked, time pausing.

neither of you spoke.

slowly, almost unconsciously, you both leaned closer. the faint warmth of his breath brushed against your lips, uneven and nervous, mirroring your own.

you blinked, your breath caught in your throat when you realised just how close his face was to yours. “woah..” you whispered.

seonghwa immediately leaned back, clearing his throat. “sorry-”

before he could retreat any further, you reached out instinctively, your fingers curling around his jaw - his skin hot under your touch. “stop saying that,” you mumbled, your thumb brushing lightly against his cheek.

he froze, his eyes searching yours for something - permission, reassurance or maybe a blend of both.

you saw how he looked down at your lips for a split second, his adam’s apple bobbing. “...is this okay?” seonghwa breathed out shakily. 

you smiled softly, your thumb tracing slow circles on his jaw. “of course.”

the moment his lips pressed against yours, the world disappeared. 

his shoulders relaxed as he leaned into you, his hand rising to cup your cheek. his touch was careful, as if he was afraid of hurting you in some way.

your lips moved together in a soft, slow rhythm, the warmth of him spreading through you like a comforting fire. 

the sensation was intoxicating - and you found yourselves melting into each other’s touch. 

seonghwa’s breath hitched as he tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss. his heart pounded against yours, a blush creeping up his neck, leaving him lightheaded.

when you finally pulled back, your lips were tingling. and before you could say anything, seonghwa leaned forward again, leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline.

“hey!”

a voice broke the moment like a needle popping a balloon. both of you jumped, your heads snapping toward the sound.

a parent stood not too far away, their hands clamped over their child’s eyes. “please do this at home or something,” they said, glaring at the two of you before walking away quickly.

you and seonghwa exchanged a look, your cheeks flushing as you tried to stifle your laughter.

“yeah,” he said, looking into your eyes, then at your lips. “let’s do this somewhere else.”

series taglist [OPEN] - @hanoishere @scuzmunkie @sinfullygay @arusio @midnightrebel1028 @neemaxx @seungminsrighthand @arilevenatz @ateezswonderland @beabatiny @lemirabitur @sunnyhokyu @frzzenfrxg @cylovesmg @txtsoobean @seonghwasslytherin @sundaybossanova @sweetinsaniiity @cybrnaya @choisanchwego @mrskill2 @devilzliaison @scary-thingz @gaonashi @jonghosbrainrot @mintchocoyum

BONUS SCENE - CUE THE MARIACHI BAND

you stirred awake to the faint aroma of something tasty wafting through the air. groggily, you rubbed your eyes open, only to find seonghwa standing by the bed, a tray in his hands.

“happy anniversary,” he said softly, his lips curving into a smile.

you pushed yourself up on the pillows, your eyes wide with surprise as you took in the tray - a plate of freshly baked bread and scrambled eggs.

“thank you..” you mumbled, half-asleep but touched by the gesture.

seonghwa stepped closer, carefully placing the tray on your lap. he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “eat quickly,” he said with a hint of excitement. “i got you something.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i thought we said no gifts this year.”

he shrugged, smirking. “i lied.”

you rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop a smile from forming on your lips. you grabbed a piece of bread and started eating. it was perfect, just like everything he made.

when you were finished, you slid out of bed, wrapping your cardigan tighter around yourself. you walked to where seonghwa was, sitting next to him.

“seonghwa,” you began. “we agreed- no gifts.”

“i know,” he said, reaching for something on the coffee table. “but i changed my mind.”

your eyes landed on the envelope in his hands. you stared at it as he handed it to you, your brows furrowing slightly. “what’s this?” you asked, taking it hesitantly.

“open it.”

sliding your finger under the seal, you pulled out a letter. as your eyes skimmed the words, your jaw dropped.

“...is this-?”

“yeah.”

“you paid for my school?!” you exclaimed in disbelief.

he nodded. “you wanted to be an architect, right?”

“i do but..” you looked at him in shock, the letter trembling in your hands. “isn’t it expensive?”

“so?” he leaned closer to you, pulling you gently towards him.

your lips parted, trying to form words. “but you paid in full-”

“it doesn’t matter,” he cut you off softly, pecking your cheek. “i wanted to do it. for you.”

you searched his eyes, completely stunned. he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. 

when you eventually pulled away, he didn’t let you go fully. instead, he smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “happy anniversary.”

deleted scenes | other fics

ANOTHER UPDATE! COME ON WE’RE BACK!!!

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Eleven: You Wonder why I’m Bitter

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

masterpost

៚ wc: 8.2k (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 !

៚ Alone and aching for the connection that once felt so natural, you reluctantly turn to an unlikely companion: Pompidou, who listens to you pour out all the longing you’ve fought so hard to bury. While you grapple with the emptiness left by Hongjoong’s sudden withdrawal, he, too, finds himself lost, wrestling with the very feelings he’s tried to deny. Haunted by memories and choices he can’t quite reconcile, Hongjoong is caught between the familiarity of the past and the confusing reality of the present.

a/n: was supposed to upload this on the 27th cause that’s my birthday but i just can’t wait any longer 😅 keep an eye out for the littlest of details because nothing is as it seems in this chapter :P lmk what you guys think!

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl

First of all, I hate myself. Second of all, I hate myself. Oh, and did I already mention that I hate myself? I just don’t know what to do anymore! It feels like it’s been a whole decade ever since I last picked up a pen to scribble on this godforsaken journal… I wish I could just go back to the time I was writing the page behind the one I’m writing on right now and just cancel my flight to Paris. This is all so frustrating, you know? Fashion Week is nearing, and I am not prepared at all—no, not even a little. I’m supposed to be spending my hours inside the studio practicing runway walks and testing out facial expressions, but no! I’m way too afraid of crossing paths with Hongjoong to even think about the consequences of not taking my preparations seriously! And speaking of Hongjoong…

He’s driving me to the edge of my sanity. I don’t know what’s going on with him—okay, scratch that, I definitely do. I just don’t get why he’s acting so avoidant all of a sudden… I mean, like, okay, I would understand his unprovoked need for distance between us if we actually kissed that night, but we didn’t. The farthest step we were able to take was just him holding onto the sides of my face and me looking at his lips like I’m a starved dog looking at its first meal of the day before Wooyoung fortunately interrupted us—so why is he acting up?

He’s like one of those girls you’d befriend in highschool who’d show up on the hallways suddenly judging your entire soul on a random Wednesday, and I don’t like it. Seriously, what’s his problem? He made me accustomed to his usual sweet and caring persona, and all of a sudden, he wants to act like this? What have I done wrong? Wasn’t it literally him who initiated the… whatever I’m supposed to call what happened that night?

I’m just concerned, you know. It’s been two weeks, and yet he’s still avoiding me like I’m the plague. I haven’t been receiving any messages from him at all lately, either. Even Madame Dupont is asking me why she no longer sees the “small young handsome boy” waiting for me outside the apartment building while leaning against his car. Wooyoung’s been trying to persuade me into confirming his theory that Hongjoong and I are going through a lovers’ quarrel for three days now, too. And guess who’s the most troubled of them all? Seonghwa. He’s been doing his best to put us back into speaking terms for a while now, and I don’t know why—I swear I didn’t ask him to do that.

Everyone is worried. Everyone but him.

You know, this brings me back to that unrecognizable faceless guy I see in some of my blurry flashbacks. I remember him asking me how long I’ve been bottling up my emotions, and when I told him I’ve been doing so for pretty much my entire life, he told me to consider writing in a journal.

What does the unrecognizable dude have to do with Hongjoong and his unreadable behavior? Nothing.

I just noticed that it’s been a while since I last wrote a journal entry, and… it’s been a while since I last let my emotions unravel. I remember the words that came out of his mouth that day.

“When you can’t figure out what you’re feeling, or if you need to let it all out, the only thing you have to do is pull this out along with a pen, and from then on, you can start writing away. Let yourself get lost in your own world.”

You know what, in a way, I think he and Hongjoong actually have something in common. I know I can’t say much because I only have one memory of this guy, but he spoke with as much wisdom as Hongjoong does. Also… “let yourself get lost in your own world.” That’s honestly the most Hongjoong-ish advice someone could ever give, given how he himself gets lost in his own world of artistry, too.

I just wish he’d stop ignoring me. I can’t help but feel like this is all somehow my fault… Am I just hurting myself by expecting things to suddenly go back to the way they used to be?

As you closed your journal with a weary sigh, your eyes drifted to the dim glow of your bedside clock reading 2:37 a.m. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of distant traffic, yet you felt far from at peace. It was a night for sleep, yet your mind wouldn’t quiet; thoughts of Hongjoong twisted and turned within you, refusing to settle.

“Why does it feel like this?” you murmured, pressing your palms into your face, as if that could somehow soothe the ache in your chest. You longed for comfort, for answers, even for a brief respite from the confusion that had become your constant companion. “If only that faceless guy could telepathically whisper some words of wisdom to me right now…”

Two weeks had passed since you last shared any words with Hongjoong—two weeks where every glance, every passing moment, felt laced with an unspoken tension that only deepened the rift between you. It was all becoming painfully real, the shift so clear to everyone around you. But no one knew the truth—the moment you almost kissed, the silent proximity that had left you dizzy and wondering. Even Seonghwa, in his genuine concern, couldn’t know the pang of vulnerability that had filled that night, the fear and excitement mingling as you’d come closer than ever before.

Your mind flashed back to the other day when the ache of his absence had been sharpest. You passed by him in a hallway, hoping for a flicker of his usual warmth, his soft gaze that once reassured you of your place in his world. But he’d brushed past with such indifference—not even nodding to acknowledge your presence, a chill in his demeanor that left you hollow. And then he was gone, his footsteps echoing down the corridor, leaving you alone with a rising sense of loss.

Without thinking, you picked up your phone and opened your gallery. Photos of Hongjoong filled your screen, and your eyes drift over candid snapshots—some of you and Hongjoong working late in the studio, others of him laughing or looking thoughtful, moments caught by your camera that now feel like glimpses into another lifetime. There’s a picture of him outside your apartment building, waving you goodbye one evening. Another shot of him hunched over his desk in concentration, unaware that you’d snapped the photo from across the room. Then, there’s a particularly precious one of the two of you, taken in his office—which was likely Wooyoung’s doing.

As you scroll, an ache blossoms within you, spreading in slow, insistent waves that make your chest feel tight. You can feel the sting of tears welling up in your eyes, and it catches you off guard. Why now? Why does he, of all people, have this power over you? You swipe at the tears, frustrated by the sudden swell of emotion. It’s not supposed to be like this, you tell yourself. Hongjoong is supposed to be your friend, your mentor, the one person in Paris who helped you find your footing when everything felt foreign. But as the images blur beneath the glisten of unshed tears, you can’t help but wonder if that’s all he’ll ever be—someone whose warmth once felt like home, and whose absence now feels like a loss you’re not ready to face.

The soft scratching at your window pulls you abruptly from your thoughts. For a moment, you freeze, glancing back at the phone you’d just placed on your desk. Carefully, you grab your journal—a flimsy defense, maybe, but it’s better than nothing. Heart pounding just slightly, you step forward, inching closer to the window.

When you peek over, you’re met with a familiar sight: Pompidou, the resident stray cat who had made the apartment building his kingdom, sits with one paw pressed to the glass, his usual unamused expression aimed your way.

You exhale a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding, feeling the tension drain from your shoulders as you let out a soft laugh. Setting your journal on the bed, you reach over to open the window, letting him slip inside with practiced ease. He slinks past you with the air of someone who owns the place and makes himself right at home, hopping onto your bed and circling until he’s claimed his spot in the center.

You sit beside him, running a gentle hand over his soft fur. It’s strange how much you missed him. For the past few weeks, your room felt emptier without his occasional visits—without that extra little creature who just… understood you, in a way. And now, with Hongjoong’s absence haunting you, Pompidou couldn’t have come at a better time.

The thought hits you harder than you expect: here you are, at your lowest, relying on a cat for comfort simply because the one person you’re used to confiding in has become distant, almost like a stranger. The ache in your chest intensifies, and before you know it, you’re lying down next to him, resting your head on the bed and gazing at his calm, indifferent eyes. It feels silly, pathetic even, to be speaking your heart to a cat, but in this silence, with no one else to turn to, you let yourself unravel.

“Pompidou,” you whisper, voice barely holding steady, “I… I don’t know what I did wrong. Everything was fine, wasn’t it?” Your fingers tremble as they thread through his fur, a warmth grounding you in the midst of your unraveling. “I don’t know how we ended up here. He’s always been there for me, and now… it’s like he’s vanished. And I’m trying, I really am, but every time I reach out, it’s like he’s miles away.”

A sharp breath catches in your throat, and you look up at the ceiling, fighting against the tears stinging your eyes. “It’s probably all my fault,” you confess in a whisper that breaks. “Maybe I was too much, or maybe I should have… I don’t know, said something differently, done something better. Maybe I shouldn’t have invited him to eat dinner that night so that…” A bitter chuckle slips out as you squeeze your eyes shut. “It’s funny, you know. All my life, I’ve been terrified of being alone, of people walking out… and now here I am, trying to be okay with him pulling away like it’s nothing.”

Pompidou shifts slightly, his warm body pressing into your side, a small reminder that he’s there, and he’s not leaving. You let your hand drop to your chest, feeling the dull ache that’s settled there. “I just miss him, Pompidou. I miss the way he used to look at me like I mattered. Now, he can’t even look me in the eyes. And I don’t know why I’m clinging to that, why I’m hoping he’ll suddenly turn around and go back to being who he was.”

The silence swallows you for a moment. “Maybe it’s because, deep down, I’m still the same pathetic teenager from Arcadia Bay who’s scared that she doesn’t deserve anything better. That she’s always going to be left behind, and this… this is just proof.” Your voice falters, words thick with pain you can no longer hold back. “And if he leaves, then maybe it’s what I deserve.”

“Maybe I was the one who left him in an alternate reality, and this is the price I have to pay for it,” you joke, but it only feels like a pathetic attempt to make yourself feel better.

The pain is so sharp it almost feels physical, a hollow ache that makes every breath feel heavier than the last. You close your eyes, fighting against the helplessness clawing at your insides, but the words keep pouring out, jagged and raw, as though voicing them might lessen the weight—even if it’s only to a cat who can’t respond.

“Do you know what’s worse?” you whisper, fingers clutching the fabric of your shirt over your chest as if you could hold yourself together by sheer will. “It’s that I can’t even be mad at him. I want to be—believe me, I’ve tried. I tell myself he’s the one pulling away, that he’s the one who’s changed, but then I start wondering… what if I pushed him to this? What if I’m the reason he’s slipping through my fingers?”

A soft tremor runs through your hands, and you curl them into fists, teeth gritted as you force the tears back. “I keep thinking… maybe he’s right to distance himself. Maybe there’s something broken in me, something that just drives people away. And the worst part is, I keep wishing he’d come back, like I’d somehow be enough if I could just—”

Your voice catches, breaking into a whisper as you bury your face in your hands, barely holding in the sob that threatens to spill out. “I just don’t understand. He was my safe place, Pompidou. For the first time in so long, I actually felt like I mattered. He made me feel seen. And now… now I feel invisible all over again, like everything we shared was just temporary, like it didn’t mean anything.”

Pompidou shifts closer, his soft purr rumbling beneath your fingertips as you stroke his fur, a small solace in the middle of this storm.

“I try to convince myself that I’m fine, that I can go on without him,” you continue, voice cracking as the words spill out unchecked. “But the truth is, I’m terrified. I’m scared that if he leaves… if he’s really gone, I’ll be alone again, just like before. And I hate myself for feeling this way, for being so… so weak.”

The tears finally break free, slipping down your cheeks in a silent flood. “What does that say about me? That I’m so dependent on him, that I can’t even imagine my life without him? I thought I was stronger than this, that I’d learned how to stand on my own. But now… now it’s like I’m right back to that scared, lonely kid I used to be, clinging to anyone who shows me a hint of kindness.”

You pull your knees to your chest, holding yourself as tightly as you can, as if you could somehow shield yourself from the emptiness swallowing you whole. “I can’t stop thinking that maybe this is all I deserve. That maybe I’m meant to be alone. Maybe he’s finally seeing me for who I am, and he’s realizing I’m not worth it.”

Your shoulders shake as the sobs escape, quiet and raw, each one cutting through you like glass. Pompidou curls closer, his little face pressing against your arm, as though he understands in his own way. But his silent comfort only deepens the ache, a reminder that the person you need more than anything isn’t here, and you’re left holding yourself together with nothing but frayed threads of hope.

With a shuddering breath, you finally admit the fear you’ve been trying so hard to ignore. “What if he doesn’t come back, Pompidou? What if this is it? I don’t think… I don’t think I can handle losing him. Not like this.”

Your voice drops to a whisper, the words coming slow and soft as you gaze out the window, eyes unfocused. “I just… I miss him, Pompidou,” you murmur, fingers absently tracing patterns against the sheets.

“I miss all the little things that made it feel like he was a part of me, like he was woven into my days without me even realizing it. I miss the way he’d send me random sketches, the ones that made no sense but made me laugh anyway, like he was letting me in on his little worlds. I miss… I miss how he’d always have this ridiculous drink order for me every time we’d meet up at the café where we switched up our notebooks with one another before we met for the first time. It’s like he knew exactly what I’d need, even if I didn’t.”

The memories wash over you, and you can’t stop the warmth from pooling in your chest as you picture those moments. “I wish we could go back to that time when things were… simple. When I could sit beside him without feeling like the whole world was shifting under my feet. When he’d laugh and look at me like I was… like I was something special, you know?”

Your voice trembles, and you tighten your grip on the sheets. “And the thing is… it was just easy with him. He’d be there, always making me feel like nothing could go wrong as long as we were together. He’d be there with his quiet, comforting presence, and I could just… be. I didn’t have to pretend or put on some mask. It was like he could see right through me, and somehow, he didn’t care about all the mess he found.”

You take a deep breath, the words spilling out like a plea. “I just want to go back, Pompidou. Back to before everything felt so fragile, before that almost-kiss, before this… this distance. I wish I could reach out and take it all back. I’d give anything just to have things feel normal again.”

Pompidou tilts his head, eyes blinking up at you, and you can’t help but laugh, a soft, broken sound that catches in your throat. “I know it sounds silly, doesn’t it? I mean, how could I expect anything to be the same after that? But I can’t help it, Pompidou. I want to go back to when he’d smile at me like that, when I didn’t have to wonder if I was the one pushing him away.”

You close your eyes, feeling the weight of each memory anchor you down. “I miss his laugh. I miss his stupid jokes. I miss the way he’d lean closer when he talked about his dreams, his voice getting all serious like he could see every detail in his mind. And I miss… I miss feeling like I belonged somewhere, like I belonged with him. I miss how he’d look at me with this warmth, like I was enough, just as I was.”

The words come out like a broken whisper, a confession you’ve been holding inside for far too long. “I can’t stop missing him. I wish… I wish I could go back to that last night before everything shifted. Before the night we nearly kissed, before I even realized what I felt. I wish I could’ve just stayed there, in that moment, without letting any of it change.”

You hug your knees, curling up as the ache settles deeper, heavier. “But I can’t. And now it’s as if I’m left with pieces of him in everything around me, and I don’t know how to put myself back together without him.”

You pull yourself up, exhaling slowly, and walk over to your desk. The room feels quiet, still heavy with everything you’ve let out, yet somehow emptier too, as if releasing the words has left you hollow. With a shaky hand, you pick up your phone and make your way back to bed, curling up beside Pompidou, who has already claimed his spot against your pillow. Settling into the blankets, you scroll through your contacts, your thumb hovering over Hongjoong’s icon.

It’s just his initials next to a simple photo he once sent—a candid moment he probably forgot about, something so ordinary that it’s precious now. The way he looked when he didn’t realize anyone was watching: a slight smile, eyes softened by something he found funny, maybe even a bit endearing. The sight makes your chest tighten, and you let yourself scroll up, reading through old conversations like leafing through the pages of a treasured book.

Each message brings back flashes of shared laughter and late-night ramblings, little moments where time seemed to pause, and it was just the two of you—untouchable, safe. You linger on a message he sent on a rainy afternoon, a random joke he thought would cheer you up. Your lips curl into a faint smile, but it’s bittersweet. There was a time when it was so easy, so effortless, like breathing. He had a way of knowing exactly when you needed a reminder that he was there. But now, that comfort feels distant, unreachable.

A tear slips down your cheek again before you realize it, and you hastily swipe it away, but the sorrow wells up again, slipping past your guard. As if sensing your pain, Pompidou extends a soft paw, resting it gently below your eyes, and you feel his fur against your cheek, grounding you in a way that words can’t. His small gesture tugs a quiet, breathy laugh from you, despite the ache in your chest. It’s as if he’s trying to catch your sadness, pulling it away piece by piece, his wide eyes fixed on yours with an empathy you can almost feel.

You let your head fall, hugging Pompidou close, allowing yourself to finally surrender to the pain and let it wash over you without restraint. The loneliness, the longing, the hollow spaces Hongjoong’s absence has left in you—all of it spills out as you clutch the feline tightly, letting his warmth and steady breathing lull you into a fragile sense of comfort. The room seems to blur, softening around you as the weight of everything you’ve been holding back presses into you.

The tears come faster now, unstoppable, and your quiet sobs fill the silence, raw and unfiltered. It’s just you and Pompidou, and for a moment, it feels like you’re not truly alone. There, in the quiet solace of your room, you cling to that small comfort, letting yourself feel every ounce of longing, letting yourself miss him—fully, desperately, hopelessly.

—

Meanwhile, Hongjoong stood in his office, the warm, nostalgic tones of “La Vie en Rose” playing softly from the record player behind him. His gaze fixed on the window, hands clasped tightly behind his back, and he fought to keep his emotions in check. Each note lingered in the air, pulling him deeper into the web of memories he was desperately trying to forget. This song, of all songs—he could still remember how it had been playing when the two of you had stood together in the flower shop, laughing over bouquets and trading light-hearted jokes as if the world beyond didn’t exist.

Part of him knew he could walk over and turn it off. The music was his to control, after all. And yet… he couldn’t bring himself to stop it. The melody was the last fragile thread that kept him tethered to you, a reminder of the warmth he felt in your presence, the comfort of knowing someone understood him.

The dim light from the city outside cast a soft glow over his office, illuminating the expanse of papers scattered across his desk, the outlines of unfinished sketches and hastily scrawled notes, all reminders of the whirlwind he’d buried himself in since he started pushing you away. Each corner of the room felt saturated with memories of you—and it was strange how a space that had once felt so alive now seemed hollow, absent of the warmth you’d brought into it.

He tried to focus on the skyline again, his eyes tracing the glittering lights of the city. It was an attempt to ground himself, to pull himself back from the turmoil inside him. But tonight, every bit of stillness he attempted felt false, every piece of composure barely hanging by a thread. All he could think about was you—the absence of your presence filling every empty space in his mind, as if refusing to be silenced.

He turned slowly from the window, allowing his gaze to wander over his desk. It was almost impossible to remember the last time he’d felt fully at ease in this room. The stacks of designs that had once held so much promise now felt like hollow accomplishments, each one only reminding him of the fire you’d helped him ignite. His eyes landed on a small pendant lying amidst the clutter. The flower encased inside had faded slightly, its once-vibrant petals softened by time. He picked it up, cradling it carefully in his hand, feeling a strange tenderness rise within him.

You’d given him that flower, pressing it into his hand with a shy smile as you murmured something about it bringing him luck. He could still recall the way your fingers had lingered against his, the brief but electric touch that had left him wondering if you felt it too. “For good luck,” you’d said, your eyes sparkling in that way they always did when you felt especially close to him.

Hongjoong swallowed, feeling a tightness in his chest as he held the pendant closer. How was it that something so small could carry the weight of so many memories? He closed his eyes, and the warmth of your smile flashed in his mind, as vivid as if you were standing beside him. But now, as he held the pendant, it felt heavier, like a tiny piece of the past he was terrified of losing forever.

In his mind, he slipped back to that night—the one that had started as an ordinary work session, yet had unraveled into something far more vulnerable. He could still feel the closeness of the room, the soft glow of the lamps casting long shadows as you both worked side by side, immersed in the quiet moment you shared.

You’d shared things that night that were never meant to leave the room. He could still hear your voice, low and hesitant, as you revealed the fears you held closest to your heart. “Being left alone,” you’d admitted, your words raw and unguarded. The truth of it had lingered between you, a quiet vulnerability that had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

When you turned the question back on him, he’d hesitated, feeling the weight of his own guarded secrets pressing against his chest. But in that quiet space, under the gentle glow of the lamp, he’d found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t allowed himself to in years. “Losing myself,” he’d whispered, his voice barely audible, but enough for you to hear. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Now, standing alone in his empty office, Hongjoong felt the irony of it all washing over him. He’d tried so hard to protect himself, to build walls so high that even you couldn’t reach them. But now, it felt as if he had developed a new fear bigger than losing himself—losing you.

A quiet knock on the door broke his reverie, and he tensed, slipping the pendant into his pocket as he turned. Wooyoung’s face appeared in the doorway, his expression unreadable as he took in the sight of Hongjoong standing alone, the haunting strains of La Vie en Rose still spinning softly from the record player across the room.

Wooyoung’s eyes flickered to the player, where the melody had been looping for what must have been the better part of an hour. “Still here?” he asked quietly, a hint of concern threading his tone.

Hongjoong forced a slight smile, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Wooyoung stepped further into the room, his gaze sharp as it settled on Hongjoong. “You know…” Wooyoung began, folding his arms as he leaned against the wall, “the world can see how miserable you are. Including her—especially her.”

Hongjoong stiffened, the forced nonchalance slipping from his face as he turned away, staring intently at the record player as if it held all the answers he was struggling to find. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, the words feeling hollow even to his own ears.

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung’s tone softened, a hint of exasperation breaking through. “I know you. I know how much you care about her. And I know you’re running from something you can’t outrun. But you’re not fooling anyone by pretending it doesn’t matter.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his mind racing with all the reasons he’d built to keep you at a distance. Each one felt logical, safe, a way to protect himself from something he couldn’t quite name. But here, with Wooyoung standing there, watching him with that steady gaze, he felt every layer he’d built start to unravel.

“I’m not pretending,” he said quietly, barely audible above the music.

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his tone turning softer, almost pleading. “Then what are you doing, Hongjoong? Because from where I’m standing, all I see is someone too scared to reach for what he really wants.”

Hongjoong’s heart twisted painfully, Wooyoung’s words hitting far too close to home. He felt the weight of everything he’d tried to suppress rising within him, a tidal wave of emotions he’d buried so deeply he’d convinced himself they were gone. But Wooyoung’s words had brought them to the surface, and now, there was no escaping them.

A silence stretched between them, and Hongjoong’s gaze fell to the floor. In that moment, he felt utterly vulnerable, as though Wooyoung could see right through him, could see the aching desire he’d tried so hard to deny. He didn’t have to say it—Wooyoung already knew.

Hongjoong’s fingers were still curled around the pendant in his pocket when Wooyoung let out a quiet sigh, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “So,” Wooyoung began, breaking the silence, “are you really going to stand here, pretending everything’s fine?”

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched, his shoulders tensing. He wanted to brush off Wooyoung’s words, to deflect with some casual response that would keep the carefully built walls intact. But his mind was a battlefield, each memory of you cutting through his defenses like a blade.

“Everything is fine,” he replied tersely. He didn’t meet Wooyoung’s eyes, focusing instead on a spot just beyond his shoulder.

Wooyoung’s brows knitted together, clearly unconvinced. “Right. That’s why you’ve been playing her favorite song on loop for the last hour. That’s why you’ve been holed up in here, avoiding anything that reminds you of her.” He shook his head, his tone equal parts exasperation and worry. “Hongjoong, you’re not fooling me. I know you, and I know you’re running from something—from someone.”

Hongjoong let out a low, frustrated sigh, finally looking up at Wooyoung. “Wooyoung, just drop it, alright?” He forced a tense smile, attempting to sound dismissive. “This… whatever you think is going on, it’s all in your head. We were just friends.”

But Wooyoung didn’t budge. “Friends?” He let out a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it, just the weight of disbelief. “You really want to go with that? Because the way you’re acting… it doesn’t look like you’re just missing a friend. You’re avoiding her like she’s a stranger, but then you’re here, playing her favorite song over and over, clutching onto that pendant like it’s the last piece of her you have.”

Hongjoong’s fingers instinctively tightened around the pendant, and he felt a pang of frustration rise within him. He didn’t want to admit that Wooyoung’s words struck too close to home. “I told you, it’s nothing like that,” he bit back, his tone sharper than intended. “You’re turning this into something it isn’t.”

Wooyoung’s eyes narrowed, his gaze not faltering. “Am I? Because from where I’m standing, you’re acting like a guy who’s desperately trying to convince himself of something he doesn’t even believe.”

“Wooyoung—”

“Hongjoong, you can’t keep lying to yourself.” Wooyoung’s tone softened, his voice carrying a gentleness that seemed to cut deeper than the words themselves. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but I do know that you care about her. You’re not fooling anyone by pretending this distance is ‘better’ for either of you.”

Hongjoong’s patience began to fray, his frustration morphing into anger. He shot Wooyoung a glare, his voice rising. “It is better, Wooyoung. She… she deserves better. She doesn’t need to be pulled into whatever mess I am.” He paused, catching his breath, his anger mingling with something closer to desperation. “I’m not what’s best for her. And it’s better for the both of us if I keep my distance.”

Wooyoung’s expression shifted, his gaze hardening as he stepped closer, unwilling to let Hongjoong brush him off. “So, what? You think pushing her away, acting like she means nothing, is somehow good for her? You really think she’s better off without you?”

“Yes,” Hongjoong replied, his tone final, but the conviction in his voice was starting to waver.

Wooyoung gave him a long, scrutinizing look, and for a moment, the silence between them was thick with unspoken truths. Then, Wooyoung shook his head slowly. “You’re lying to yourself. And honestly? It’s pathetic, Hongjoong. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

The words hit Hongjoong like a slap, and a flash of anger surged within him, simmering beneath the surface. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered, his voice low and strained. “I’m doing this for her, so just… stop.”

But Wooyoung wouldn’t relent. “You’re not doing this for her. You’re doing this because you’re afraid. Afraid to admit how much she means to you. Afraid of what might happen if you actually let her in. Whatever you’re afraid of, whatever you think is keeping you from being with her… maybe it’s worth rethinking. Because if you keep running like this, you’re going to lose her. And then what?”

Hongjoong felt his control slipping, the carefully constructed barriers he’d built starting to crack under the weight of Wooyoung’s words. He clenched his fists, his gaze dropping to the floor as he struggled to keep his voice steady. “This isn’t about fear.”

“Isn’t it?” Wooyoung’s voice softened, a hint of understanding breaking through the frustration. “Hongjoong… I get it. You’re scared of losing yourself. Of losing control. But she’s not the one who’s going to make that happen. You are, by doing this. By trying so hard to keep her out.”

Hongjoong stayed silent, his chest tightening as Wooyoung’s words began to sink in. He wanted to deny it, to push back with the same conviction he’d clung to for weeks, but he couldn’t. Because deep down, he knew there was truth in Wooyoung’s words.

Finally, Wooyoung let out a sigh, his tone softening even further. “Listen, man. I don’t know what almost happened, or why you’re so determined to stay away from her, but you have to ask yourself… is this really what you want?”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind flashing back to that night in your apartment—the feeling of your hand brushing his, the way your gaze had lingered on him, the unspoken tension that had nearly pulled him into something he couldn’t name. He’d wanted so badly to close that distance, to feel your lips against his, to let go of the fear and doubt that had held him back. But just as he’d leaned closer, Wooyoung’s call had snapped him out of the moment, bringing him crashing back to reality.

“Do you even understand how much she’s hurting, Hongjoong?” And there it was again—the harshness in Wooyoung’s tone. “Seonghwa told me she’s tearing herself apart over this. She doesn’t eat right anymore, and she barely even sleeps. She spends her nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering where things went wrong, wondering if she’s the problem.”

The words landed like a punch to Hongjoong’s gut, leaving him breathless. Images of you flashed through his mind—moments when he’d caught glimpses of your smile faltering, your laughter quieting, the spark in your eyes dimming little by little. He’d told himself it was just his imagination, that you were fine. But Wooyoung’s words shattered that illusion entirely.

“She thinks she did something wrong, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung continued, his voice filled with barely contained anger. “She actually believes she’s the reason you’re running. Every time you disappear, every time you pull away, she thinks it’s because of something she did. And the worst part? She doesn’t even blame you. She blames herself.”

Hongjoong’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as guilt clawed at him.

“Seonghwa told me she asked him if she was too much. Can you believe that?” Wooyoung’s voice cracked. “She actually thinks she’s too much for you. That she’s somehow burdening you, dragging you down. She’s convinced herself that if she were just… less, maybe you wouldn’t be running.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitched, a wave of nausea rolling over him as he realized the full extent of the pain he’d caused. You—who had always been so vibrant, so unapologetically yourself—were now questioning every part of who you were, trying to shrink yourself down to avoid scaring him away.

“She’s not even angry at you, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice barely above a whisper now, each word a dagger aimed straight at Hongjoong’s heart. “She doesn’t hate you for this. She just… she thinks she’s not enough. Or that she’s too much. Either way, she’s convinced that she’s the problem.”

Hongjoong closed his eyes, his mind reeling. He could feel the anchor of your pain weighing down on him; He’d done this to you—turned you into a shadow of yourself, left you grappling with doubts and insecurities that weren’t yours to bear.

“You’ve been so busy hiding behind your own fears,” Wooyoung continued, “that you haven’t even stopped to consider what this is doing to her. You’re so terrified of being hurt again that you’re hurting her—over and over, every day, with every step you take away from her.”

Hongjoong opened his mouth to speak, to protest, but the words caught in his throat. What could he possibly say to justify this? How could he explain that he’d been running not to hurt you, but to protect himself? It sounded so selfish, so small in the face of everything you were going through.

“And you know what’s really twisted?” Wooyoung’s voice dropped, a bitter edge creeping into his tone. “She’d take you back in a heartbeat. Despite everything, she’d still look at you the same way she did before you started pushing her away. She’d still forgive you, still try to see the good in you, because that’s who she is. That’s how much she cares.”

Hongjoong felt something break inside him, a quiet, shattering realization that left him reeling. You would forgive him. He knew that. He could see it in his mind—the way you’d smile softly, the way your eyes would fill with understanding, even now. Even after everything, you’d welcome him back, arms open, heart exposed, waiting.

“She deserves better, Joong.” Wooyoung’s words were softer now, the anger replaced by a raw, unfiltered honesty. “She deserves someone who doesn’t make her question her worth. Someone who doesn’t make her feel like she’s somehow wrong just for being herself. And if you can’t be that for her… if you’re too wrapped up in your own fears to let her in… then you need to let her go.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened, a hollow ache spreading through him as he struggled to process it all. He didn’t want to let you go. He couldn’t. But the thought of holding onto you only to keep hurting you, to keep dragging you through his own tangled web of insecurities and fears—it was unbearable.

“She’s barely holding up. She hides it well, but Seonghwa can see it. He told me how she sits alone for hours, just staring off into space, like she’s lost something she can’t find. She keeps her phone close, hoping maybe, just maybe, you’ll reach out. But every time you don’t... it breaks her a little more.”

Hongjoong’s chest tightened painfully, each word slicing through him like a blade. He could see it so clearly now, every painful moment he’d forced you through. How you must’ve waited for messages that never came, must’ve spent countless nights wondering where things had gone wrong. The thought of you sitting there, lost in your own pain, while he’d been so focused on his own fears, was more than he could bear.

“And don’t think she hasn’t tried to talk to you.” Wooyoung’s voice turned sharp, accusatory. “Seonghwa told me how many times she’s wanted to reach out, just to make sure you’re okay, just to see if you’d give her even a scrap of reassurance. But every time, she stops herself. She doesn’t want to bother you, doesn’t want to seem needy. She’s holding back everything she feels because she’s afraid it’ll push you further away.”

Wooyoung’s eyes softened slightly, but the fire of his conviction remained. “You need to understand, Hongjoong. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about her too. You’re hurting her, and if you don’t start realizing that, it’ll be too late. She’s going to break, and I don’t think she’ll come back from it.”

Hongjoong felt a cold wave of dread wash over him. The thought of you shattering into pieces because of his cowardice was unbearable. He wanted to argue, to defend himself, to say that he was doing this for you, for the both of you. But deep down, he knew it was a lie. He was only trying to shield himself from the fear of loss, the same fear that had haunted him since that girl from his past had walked away.

“I can’t… I can’t lose anyone again, Woo,” Hongjoong finally admitted, his voice cracking under the weight of his confession. “What if she sees me for who I really am? What if she realizes I’m not worth it?”

Wooyoung shook his head, frustration flashing across his features. “That’s where you’re wrong. She already sees you, and she loves you for all the parts you’re trying to hide. You think you’re protecting her by staying away, but you’re only pushing her further into despair.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced, a whirlwind of emotions colliding within him. “How do you know? How do you know she feels that way?”

“Because I’ve talked to Seonghwa, and he cares about her, Joong! He’s seen her cry over you. He told me she broke down one night, just sitting on the floor of her room, wondering why you were so distant. She kept saying she must’ve done something wrong. Do you want that for her? Do you want to be the reason she loses herself?”

The image of you curled up alone, tears streaming down your face while grappling with your worth, sliced through Hongjoong. The sheer guilt of it settled heavily in his chest, suffocating him. He had wanted to protect you, but in doing so, he had only hurt you more.

Hongjoong lingered in silence, the weight of his unspoken fears casting a shadow over the room. He could feel Wooyoung’s gaze on him, a

persistent pressure urging him to confront the thoughts he’d been too afraid to voice.

“What if…” The words caught in his throat, his voice strained with the vulnerability he couldn’t hide. “What if I take the next step, and she leaves? What if she ends up leaving just like—”

Wooyoung interrupted him by reaching forward, pressing his fingers gently but firmly to Hongjoong’s lips, shushing him with an authority that surprised them both. “I know what comes next, Hongjoong,” he murmured. “You don’t need to say it.”

Hongjoong stiffened, pulling back ever so slightly, a touch of annoyance flickering across his face. “You think it’s that simple?” he muttered, frustration bleeding into his voice. “You think it’s easy to just… forget?”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, though he held firm. “I think you’re holding onto something that’s long gone, Joong. And you’re letting it get in the way of something real.” He paused, leaning forward. “So what if the girl you loved back in middle school left you? You’re still letting her be the one who decides what happens now?”

Hongjoong’s mouth opened, then closed, his defenses crumbling under Wooyoung’s scrutiny. He could feel the words bubbling up, the excuses he’d used to justify his fears over and over, but this time, they didn’t come. The silence between them grew heavier, and he felt himself shrinking under Wooyoung’s eyes.

“It’s not about her,” Hongjoong finally managed, his voice a strained whisper. “It’s just… this was exactly how it started back then. The same moments, the same feelings, and then…” His voice broke, a haunted look creeping into his eyes as the memories clawed their way to the surface. “And then it all just fell apart the moment she left without a word.”

Wooyoung’s expression softened, his gaze filled with something close to sympathy, but there was no pity there, only an understanding forged through years of friendship. “Joong,” he said softly, leaning even closer as if he could bridge the distance that Hongjoong had placed between himself and everyone around him. “So what if some things feel familiar? They’re not the same person, are they? You’re not the same person, either.”

Hongjoong clenched his jaw, a flicker of anger sparking in his chest as he searched for a way to deflect, to deny the truth in Wooyoung’s words. “It’s… it’s not like that, Woo. You don’t get it.” His voice grew sharper, frustration edging his tone as he tried to hold onto the walls he’d built.

Wooyoung shook his head, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Really? Because it doesn’t look that way to me.”

Hongjoong looked away, his gaze hardening as he stared at the floor. “It’s not that simple, okay? You don’t know what it’s like to… to risk everything and then lose it.”

Wooyoung sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Hongjoong, I may not know exactly what you went through, but I do know one thing: you’re letting something from the past dictate your future. And that’s not fair. Not to you, and definitely not to her.”

Hongjoong’s shoulders sagged, the fight draining out of him as he felt the weight of Wooyoung’s words settle over him. Part of him wanted to argue, to cling to the fears that had kept him guarded for so long, but another part—a part he’d buried deep—knew that Wooyoung was right.

“What if I let myself try?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his words laden with the weight of years of doubt and self-preservation. “What if… what if I take that risk, and she ends up leaving?”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened, and he leaned forward, resting a reassuring hand on Hongjoong’s shoulder. “Joong, if she’s really the person you believe she is… then maybe it’s a risk worth taking. Because people leave, yeah. They walk away. But the ones who matter, the ones who are meant to stay—they won’t go anywhere.”

“You’re saying I should just… trust that?” His voice wavered, the question more for himself than for Wooyoung, as if he needed to convince himself that he could still believe in something other than his own fears.

Wooyoung’s mouth curved into a gentle, understanding smile. “Yeah. Trust it. Don’t let something that’s already gone keep you from what could be right here, right now.”

“What if I let her in? What if I let her see the real me? What if it’s not enough?”

“Then you fight for her,” Wooyoung replied. “You show her every day that she’s enough. You fight for her instead of running away. You have to be brave enough to take the risk, Joong. And if she does leave, at least you’ll know you tried. You can’t live in the shadow of your past forever.”

“But what if she sees me as weak?” Hongjoong countered, bitterness lacing his tone. “What if she thinks I’m broken?”

“Then you show her that even broken pieces can fit together to make something beautiful,” Wooyoung shot back. “You’ve built this wall around yourself, but you’re just hurting the one person who’s tried to break through. You need to trust her. You need to let her help you. She wants to be there for you, but you have to meet her halfway.”

The truth of those words echoed painfully in Hongjoong’s mind. He had been running, terrified of the vulnerability that came with love, terrified of the chance that he could be left once more. But he could feel the edges of that fear beginning to fray under the weight of his guilt, unraveling with every word Wooyoung spoke.

“You can’t let the past dictate your present, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said, his voice softer now, a mixture of empathy and frustration. “You can’t keep running away from what you feel. If you do, you’ll end up losing her, and it’ll be your fault.”

Hongjoong’s heart raced as he thought of you—how you had lit up his life in ways he never thought possible. How your laughter had become a soothing balm to his weary soul. He couldn’t keep ignoring the truth that was staring him in the face. The realization washed over him like a cold wave. “What am I supposed to do?” Hongjoong whispered.

“Fight for her, Joong. Show her that you’re not afraid. Be honest with her, and don’t let fear win this time.” Wooyoung leaned closer. “She deserves that much, at the very least. Fight for her—before it’s too late.”

“But what if it already is?”

🪞 — lividstar.

🐟 k - kids by current joys

🐟 o - odd reasons by donovan melero

🐟 i - it’s you by ateez

I can’t recommend much music, but hey it’s something

MOOT / TAG GAME !

mission— spell your real name / name you use on tumblr with songs you like >< ready, set, go !

m — my love, mine all mine (mitski)

i — i love you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)

c — coraline (lyn lapid)

k — killshot (magdalena bay)

i — i know you (faye webster)

e — either way (ive)

tagging— @puma-riki @flwrstqr @liwinly @woniefication @lilificationn @stvrriki @okwonyo + anyone else who wants to join !