ATEEZ WRITERS IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, PLEASE WRITE A SERIES OR A ONE-SHOT ABOUT ANY OF THESE PHOTOS AND IF

ATEEZ WRITERS IF YOU CAN HEAR ME, PLEASE WRITE A SERIES OR A ONE-SHOT ABOUT ANY OF THESE PHOTOS AND IF YOU DO PLEASE TAG ME!

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ateez smut 𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny communicates ateez x reader hongjoong x reader seonghwa x reader yunho x reader yeosang x reader san x reader mingi x reader wooyoung x reader jongho x reader

strangers by nature | viii

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: 5.5K Warnings: fluff, mentions of infidelity

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“You’ll need extensive physical therapy,” Dr. Jang said, flipping through his chart the day Mingi was to be discharged.

“Walking will be difficult at first. You’ll experience weakness, dizziness, and possibly some coordination issues.”

Mrs. Song let out a sharp breath, bringing a hand up to her mouth as if to stifle a gasp. Beside her, Mr. Song reached over and placed a firm, reassuring hand on her arm. They had known this was coming, yet hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

“We’ll have to make arrangements,” his mother replied. “Oh, if he’s going to struggle, we can have the physical therapist come to the house.”

“There’s no need,” Mingi rasped, glancing over at you. “Y/N can help me.”

The entire room fell silent.

Dr. Jang stopped mid-page, his eyes flickering up over his glasses. The nurse who had been taking discharge notes blinked so fast it was almost comical. Even Mr. Song, ever composed, arched an eyebrow in surprise.

“W-What? Me?” you stammered, pointing to yourself as if there had been some mistake.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like your help,” Mingi repeated, his voice steadier now, as if the decision had already been made in his mind. There was something almost… gentle in the way he looked at you.

You stared at him in disbelief. Mingi, the man who never wanted anything to do with you, was asking for your help?

“Mingi, are you sure?”

Mrs. Song was still staring at him like he had grown a second head. “But you always—” She hesitated, searching for the right words.

“You’ve never liked being…helped. You always insist on doing things yourself.”

Mingi exhaled, leaning back against the pillows, his fingers twitching slightly against the blanket. “I know,” he admitted. His voice was quiet, almost contemplative.

“But things are different now.”

And for some reason, the way he said it made it feel like he wasn’t just talking about his injury.

You pulled up to the entrance, cutting the engine before stepping out to grab Mingi’s crutches from the backseat. By now, the visits were becoming routine, but each time, it still struck you as surreal.

You turned to him, holding out the crutches. “Do you need anything else? I can grab a wheelchair if you want.”

Mingi shook his head. “No thanks, I’ve got it.”

Then, to your complete and utter bewilderment, he smiled—small, unguarded, but warm in a way you’d never quite seen before. The sight of it sent a strange flutter through your chest, something unfamiliar yet not entirely unwelcome.

Before you could process it, his hand brushed against your arm, a brief touch that sent a gentle warmth trailing in its wake. His fingers lingered just long enough to make you wonder if it was intentional before he gave your arm a light squeeze—as if he were telling you he’d see you soon.

It was fleeting, gone too soon, but the feeling remained, leaving you gripping the car door handle as if it were the only thing keeping you steady.

Mingi had never smiled at you before.

The whole drive home, you were lost in thought, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. Confused didn’t even begin to cover it. Lately, everything about Mingi had been confusing.

At first, you thought you were imagining it. But then it became impossible to ignore.

It wasn’t just the way he looked at you now—like he was seeing you for the first time, rather than through you. It was how he acted. How he hovered.

He followed you around the penthouse like a puppy. If you turned around too quickly, he was there, standing just a few feet away. If you rounded a corner, you nearly crashed into him. It was like he was always waiting for something.

Waiting for you.

You could almost see it—the imaginary puppy ears perking up, the wagging tail swishing behind him, hoping you’d notice that he was there.

And as if that weren’t strange enough, he’d also become…talkative. Well, in his own way. Mingi had started initiating conversations with you through animal facts, seemingly random tidbits of knowledge he’d been holding in until they just slipped out.

“Did you know that vampire bats share their food with other vampire bats?”

“What?” You blinked at him, holding your fork mid bite.

“They, um…they regurgitate blood for bats that didn’t eat.” His voice was quiet and uncertain, like he wasn’t sure if this was something you’d want to hear but hoped you might find it interesting.

You blinked at him, trying to decide if this was some kind of weird joke. But there was no teasing in his expression—just an earnest kind of hopefulness, like he wanted you to acknowledge his effort.

Like he wanted you to know he was trying.

“Oh…” You let out a small laugh, tilting your head at him. “Are you telling me I don’t eat enough?”

Mingi’s ears tinged pink as he gave a small, sheepish nod.

“Kind of…” he admitted, shifting awkwardly.

“I noticed that sometimes you skip meals when you’re busy or stressed.” His voice dropped slightly, almost as if he was embarrassed to say it aloud.

“It’s not good for you.”

Another instance, you were humming to yourself as you sorted through the laundry, tossing a few shirts into the washing machine. The penthouse was quiet, save for the whir of the dryer running in the background. You reached for the basket when—

“Did you know that wombats poop in cubes?”

You yelped, throwing your laundry into the air as you spun around. Mingi stood just a few feet away, wide-eyed, his hands hovering awkwardly in front of him like he wasn’t sure whether to help or apologize.

“Mingi!” you gasped, pressing a hand to your chest. “You scared me!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he mumbled, shifting on his feet. “The sugar cubes you put in your tea reminded me of wombat poop for some reason.”

You shook your head as you stepped into the lift back to the penthouse. You weren’t sure how you felt about your husband’s newfound attitude. It wasn’t that you were ungrateful—Mingi had finally woken up, and that should have been enough.

The moment you kicked off your shoes in the foyer, Mrs. Ha, the chef, scurried over, her eyes darting between you and the hallway like she was still in the habit of speaking cautiously.

“Oh, Ms. Y/N!” she whispered urgently, clutching her apron. “How was he?”

You let out a sharp exhale, still trying to make sense of it yourself. “Weird,” you hissed, picking up your pace to match hers as you both hurried toward the kitchen.

“He smiled at me. And—” You hesitated for a second before lowering your voice. “He squeezed my arm.”

Mrs. Ha gasped so dramatically you thought she might faint. “No.” She shook her head as if refusing to believe it.

“I know,” you muttered, half-joking, but not really. “He used to pretend I didn't exist. Now he’s…” You trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

Warm? Inviting? Considerate?

It felt strange to say out loud, but stranger still that it might actually be true.

Mrs. Ha grabbed your wrist as if trying to steady herself, or maybe you. “Ms. Y/N,” she said gravely, “do you think he hit his head too hard?”

You swallowed, the thought lingering in your mind longer than it should. Mingi’s accident had been severe. He’d been unconscious for months and it was a miracle he woke up at all.

And yet, this wasn’t just waking up. This was different. The Mingi you knew had been cold, distant, cruel even. He never touched you unless absolutely necessary, never smiled at you unless it was laced with sarcasm or condescension. But today?

Today, he’d looked at you like he actually saw you.

Could head trauma really alter someone’s personality that drastically? Had the accident shaken something loose inside him?

“Can you believe he asked me about plants?” Yohan scoffed, handing you a cup of tea as you stepped into the kitchen.

“Mingi and plants.” He shook his head in disbelief, leaning against the counter. “I can’t believe he’s actually considering keeping something alive besides himself.”

You snorted, though the humor was short-lived. The shift in Mingi’s behavior was too drastic, too unnatural. You took a sip of your tea, the warmth doing little to ease the uncertainty. This new Mingi was too good to be true, and you were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. Mingi’s kindness, his warmth—it didn’t make sense. Not when he had spent so long resenting you.

“This morning, he casually mentioned that zebras can’t sleep alone,” you murmured, tapping your fingers against the cup.

“Well he said he’s looking forward to dinner!” Mrs. Ha interjected.

“Three months ago, he barely spoke to anyone, including Y/N and now he’s making conversation?” Yohan shook his head, placing a hand on his hip.

“This is suspicious.”

No one wanted to say it out loud, but you all felt the same way. Mingi’s recovery wasn’t just physical. He was changing, bit by bit. And for the first time in a long while, it wasn’t for the worse.

⋆

“Your grip strength is starting to improve, as well as the mobility on your left side. Soon, you won’t need the crutches anymore,” Dr. Lim noted encouragingly.

Mingi exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he steadied himself. The session had been brutal, as they always were, but hearing that he was making progress gave him a small sense of victory.

“That’s it for today. We’ll see you next week.” The physical therapist gave him a nod of approval before turning away, already moving on to his next patient.

Mingi nodded, gripping his crutches tightly as he made his way toward the exit. Every movement still felt like an uphill battle. He had spent the last two months relearning how to move, how to function without feeling like his own body was working against him. The physical therapy sessions were grueling, pushing him to his limits, but he refused to back down.

The accident had nearly killed him. Three broken ribs, a fractured femur, and nerve damage. Though it wasn’t extensive, it was enough to remind him that no matter how much he pushed, there were still limits.

And he hated that.

He hated the way his body trembled when he overexerted himself, the way his right arm sometimes felt too weak to grip things properly. He hated that he still struggled to get up without support, that simple tasks took twice the effort they used to.

But he didn’t hate the way you anticipated his struggles before he could voice them. The way you reached for his arm before he could stumble, or placed things in a way that made it easier for him to access. And he didn’t hate how easily you entertained his ramblings, even when they were about the most mundane things.

For an hour and a half each week, he hated being away from you.

Because no matter how frustrating the setbacks were, no matter how exhausting the battle of recovery became, seeing you at the end of each session reminded him of his purpose and his promise to Hongjoong and Wooyoung.

The thought of going home had him biting back a grin as he adjusted his crutches and made his way out of the rehabilitation center. He was already looking forward to sliding into the passenger seat beside you, exaggerating the difficulty of his new balance exercises and guessing what Mrs. Ha had whipped up today.

The anticipation carried him forward until it came to a screeching halt.

The moment he stepped into the rotunda, his fingers instinctively tightened around the crutches, his body going rigid. The hospital lobby was a blur of white coats and murmured conversations, but all he could focus on was the figure standing in front of him.

Ahri.

Her arms were crossed, her manicured nails tapping impatiently against her sleeve. She looked annoyed with her lips pressed into a thin line as her sharp gaze raked over him.

The sight of her made something curdle in his stomach—something sharp, bitter, and unwelcome.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi asked flatly.

Ahri scoffed, stepping closer. “Are you seriously asking me that? You’ve been avoiding me ever since you woke up.”

“Maybe that should tell you something,” he muttered, but he already knew Ahri wouldn’t take the hint.

Ahri rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Mingi. Don’t act like this. We need to talk.”

“No,” he said simply, his grip tightening around the crutches until his knuckles turned white.

“We really don’t.”

“You’re being dramatic. I was worried about you—”

“Don’t,” he cut in, his voice low, firm.

Ahri’s mouth opened, then closed. For the first time, she looked uncertain, like she hadn’t expected him to be this direct. Her expression faltered for a split second, But then, just as quickly, she recovered, her lips curling into a sneer.

“So that’s how it is?” she scoffed. “You wake up and suddenly forget about us? Is it because you want to play house with her?”

Mingi’s jaw tensed but his silence spoke volumes.

“What’s wrong with that?” he replied quietly.

That made her pause. Just for a second. But then she shook her head, scoffing again like she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“Oh, give me a break,” she snapped. “You spent so long telling me how miserable you were, how you were trapped with her.” She let out a bitter laugh.

“But now what? You wake up from a coma and suddenly, she’s the one you want? You told me you wished you’d never married her, that you never loved her.”

She took a step closer, her voice dropping to something softer, something almost pleading as if she could still reach him.

“Mingi, you told me I was the only thing that made you happy.”

And maybe, once, he had believed that.

Maybe, once, he had convinced himself that Ahri was the answer, the escape he craved, the proof that he was still alive, still capable of feeling something. But standing here now, after dying and coming back, after losing everything and being given a second chance, he saw it for what it truly was.

A mistake. A desperate attempt to outrun his own self-destruction.

But you—you had always been real. And this time, he wasn’t going to run.

This time, he was going to love you the way he should have all along.

“You weren’t,” he said steadily. “You never were.”

Ahri’s face twisted, something wounded flickering across her features before it morphed into anger.

“Bullshit! If that were true, then why did you keep coming back to me?”

"You were there when it was easy, Ahri. When it was fun. But when I was lying in that hospital bed, barely clinging to life, you were nowhere to be found."

Ahri’s lips parted, but no words came out.

“And you know what? I don’t blame you,” Mingi said, tilting his head.

“Because we were never real, were we? We were just two selfish people feeding off each other’s worst impulses.” He exhaled sharply, as if the weight of it all was finally lifting off his chest.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

People turned, pausing in their tracks, stealing glances at the commotion, but Mingi could care less. Instead, he stepped past her without another glance, heading toward the one person who mattered—

You.

"You think you can just walk away from me?" Ahri's voice rose, sharp and unhinged.

Mingi didn’t flinch. He didn’t react at all.

And that set her off.

"Do you really think she’ll love you after everything you put her through?!"

Her lips curled, a smirk. "You think a self-respecting woman like Choi Y/N would want you?" She let out a breathless, almost manic laugh, her eyes glinting with something unhinged.

"Especially when you fucked me on your wedding night!"

A murmur rippled through the gathering crowd. Gasps. A sharp intake of breath. Someone muttering under their breath. But Ahri was past caring. Her hands trembled at her sides, whether from rage or something deeper, something uglier, even she wasn’t sure.

“You threw her away like she was nothing. And now, you think you can just have her?”

Ahri let out a broken laugh, something desperate and wild.

"She’s stronger than you ever gave her credit for." Ahri’s voice turned quiet, almost pitying.

“She doesn’t need you."

Mingi’s breath hitched, and for the first time since this entire confrontation began, doubt slithered in, coiling tight around his chest.

Because what if Ahri was right?

What if you never forgave him? What if everything he had done, all the cruel words, all the neglect, had built a wall so high between you that he’d never be able to climb over it?

He remembered the way you had looked at him when he was just a clumsy, oversized puppy, tail wagging, tongue lolling, no words to defend himself—only his actions. And still, still, you had cared for him. Fed him. Sheltered him. Loved him, even when you hadn’t known it was him.

Mingi clenched his jaw. He could fix this.

Because if he had been capable of love then, stripped of his pride and his excuses, then he was capable of love now. And he would prove it to you. No matter what it took.

He would not lose you.

"Ms. Jeong," a voice said smoothly, "I suggest you leave before you embarrass yourself any further."

Mingi tensed. He didn’t need to turn to know what he’d see—that infuriatingly calm expression, always so composed, so sure with his stupid face and stupid hair.

Seonghwa.

The hospital director's voice was calm, but the authority behind it was unmistakable. He stepped into Ahri’s path, yet the weight of his presence alone was enough to send a chill through the air.

Ahri whirled on him. "Stay out of this, Park Seonghwa!" she snapped. "This has nothing to do with you!"

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow. "You’re causing a disturbance in my hospital. That makes it my problem."

Her chest rose and fell with sharp, angry breaths, but Seonghwa remained unfazed.

"You’re humiliating yourself. If you don’t leave, I’ll have security escort you out."

Ahri’s lips parted, her eyes darting between Seonghwa and Mingi, as if searching for an opening—one last attempt to regain control of the situation. But Mingi had already turned his back, walking toward the exit. Toward you.

And you—you had just barely managed to keep your knees from buckling.

You had been standing just around the corner, heart in your throat, ears ringing with every word that had left Mingi’s mouth.

"Do you really think she’ll love you after everything you put her through?!"

You didn’t have an answer for that. Not yet.

But Mingi, your husband, the same man who once treated your marriage like a prison sentence—was choosing you.

Your phone chimed, interrupting your conversation with Yohan and Mrs. Ha.

Pick up Mingi.

“Has it already been an hour and a half?” Yohan sighed, leaning back in his chair.

Mrs. Ha chuckled as she wiped her hands on her apron, already turning back to the half-prepped vegetables on the counter.

“Time flies when you’re talking shit, I guess,” you murmured, more to yourself than anyone.

Conversations like these had once been a source of relief, a safe space where you, Yohan, and Mrs. Ha could freely air out your frustrations about Mingi and his insufferable attitude. It had been cathartic, a necessary way to bond over shared grievances, particularly in the way he ignored Yohan’s presence, dismissed Mrs. Ha’s kindness, and, worst of all, the way he had treated you.

The usual satisfaction of venting was absent, replaced instead by something heavier.

Guilt.

You weren’t sure why.

Maybe it was the way his eyes lingered now, softer, searching, as if trying to memorize every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. Like he was looking for something—hoping for something.

Or maybe it was the way he hesitated before speaking, as if he wanted to be understood but didn’t know how. As if he was afraid that one wrong step would send him tumbling right back into the version of himself you had every reason to despise.

And that’s what made your chest ache.

You sighed, grabbing your keys from the counter and with a quick farewell to Yohan and Mrs. Ha, you made your way down to the garage. The drive to the hospital was quiet, the high rises casting fleeting shadows as you navigated the city streets.

Your mind wandered. Mingi was still a mess of contradictions—still the person who had hurt you more than anyone else ever had. And yet, in the past two months, something had shifted. He’d been different.

You weren’t sure what that meant for you, if it meant anything at all.

Pulling into the hospital lot, you glanced at the time. You were early. With minutes to spare, you found yourself hesitating, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. You could just wait here, let Mingi find his way out like always.

But today, something in you wavered.

Maybe, just this once, you’d meet him halfway.

Sighing, you turned off the engine and walked into the hospital. The automatic doors parted soundlessly as you entered, the sterile scent of antiseptic and faint traces of coffee from the café wrapping around you.

You weaved through the familiar hallways toward the rehabilitation center, past patients in wheelchairs and staff exchanging clipped instructions.

And then—

"You think you can just walk away from me?"

You stopped.

Ahri.

Her voice carried through the clinic, too loud, too reckless for a public space, but she didn’t seem to care.

A few steps ahead, just past a row of columns, Mingi stood—partially obscured, his broad shoulders stiff with tension. Ahri stood in front of him, heaving with anger, her expression twisted into something between fury and despair.

Your instincts told you to walk away before you were pulled into something you weren’t meant to witness. But your feet wouldn’t move. Instead, you ducked behind the corner, pressing yourself against the wall, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

"Do you really think she’ll love you after everything you put her through?!"

You sucked in a breath. That stopped Mingi and Ahri knew it. You peeked out just enough to catch the smirk curling at the edges of her lips and the cruel glint in her eyes.

"You think a self-respecting woman like Choi Y/N would want you? You fucked me on your wedding night!"

The words slammed into you, knocking the air from your lungs. You had known what you were getting into when your parents arranged your marriage to Mingi. You had no illusions about love or loyalty, not when his heart had already belonged to someone else. You had told yourself his affair with Ahri didn’t matter, that you weren’t some naive child clinging to false hope.

But hearing the words now, so bluntly and irrevocably, felt different. It was like an old wound you thought had scarred over, threatening to tear open all over again.

A murmur of voices rippled through the onlookers—gasps, hushed whispers, stolen glances exchanged in uneasy silence. Mingi remained frozen, his jaw clenched so tight it looked painful, his fists curling and uncurling around his crutches.

Your fingers curled into your sleeves, nails pressing crescent marks into your skin. The way Mingi stood there, facing Ahri’s wrath without backing down, without crumbling the way you might have expected, made your chest tighten.

For the first time in your marriage, Mingi was choosing you.

The realization sent a flutter through you, foreign and unwelcome and you had to keep your knees from buckling beneath you.

This wasn’t forgiveness.

But it was something.

Swallowing hard, you spun on your heel and hurried back to your car. By the time you reached the door, your hands fumbled slightly, a little shaky as you slid inside and shut yourself away from the world.

You squeezed your eyes shut, willing the strange, fluttery feeling in your chest to go away. But it lingered, stubborn and insistent, curling around the edges of your thoughts. Ahri’s words still echoed in your mind, but even louder—more impossible to ignore—was the quiet whisper of, What if?

What if Mingi really was choosing you?

Not out of obligation. Not because there was no one else left. But because he wanted to.

A breathy laugh escaped you, more out of disbelief than amusement.

“What do you think, Maro?”

The name slipped out before you could stop it, but it felt natural, like Maro was still here, curled up beside you, tail wagging, waiting for you to spill your heart out.

You swallowed, gripping the steering wheel as if it could ground you.

“It’s stupid, right?” Your voice was tentative as you leaned your head against the headrest.

“It doesn’t change anything. Just because he—” You stopped, shook your head, trying to chase away the warmth threatening to creep in.

“It doesn’t mean I should believe in something that’s never been real.”

You could imagine Maro pressing his head into your palm like he understood everything you couldn’t say. Like he was telling you that you didn’t have to figure it all out alone.

“God, I don’t even know what's happening anymore.”

A sudden, sharp knock against the window jolted you upright. Your heart lurched into your throat as you turned, only to find Mingi standing just outside, giving you a small wave. Your face burned. Huffing, you fumbled for the lock with clumsy fingers before scrambling out of the car.

“I got it,” Mingi said with a chuckle, adjusting his grip on his crutches. His voice was light, but his gaze lingered on you, studying you with an expression softer than you were used to.

“You okay?”

You forced a small smile, brushing imaginary dust off your sleeves in an attempt to steady yourself. “Yeah, just tired.”

Mingi didn’t look convinced. He lingered for a second longer, his eyes searching yours as if debating whether to press further. But he didn’t. Instead, he exhaled through his nose, nodded, and slid into the passenger seat.

The drive home passed in a blur. The streetlights stretched long across the pavement, casting soft, flickering patterns against the windshield, but you were lost in the whirlwind of thoughts brewing in your mind.

Did he really love you?

⋆

"Y/N…can you call my phone? I can’t seem to find it."

Mingi had been more flustered than usual lately—not that he wanted to admit. The accident had left him disoriented, but it was unlike him to be clumsy. But lately, he kept doing things that frustrated him to no end like pushing against a pull door and standing there and now, misplacing his phone for the third time this week.

He was also never one to ask for help—especially from you.

Before the accident, he had gone out of his way to keep his distance. He had made it clear he wanted nothing from you, and you had gotten the message. Eventually, you stopped offering. And for a while, that’s what he thought he wanted.

Now, he couldn’t stand the thought of it.

If you were in the kitchen, he was suddenly rummaging through the cabinets for a snack he didn’t actually want. If you were on the couch, he was sitting on the opposite end, scrolling through his phone but not really paying attention to it.

And if you got up to leave the room? Well…so did he.

Because he wasn’t afraid of being clingy. Not with you. Not when the thought of you leaving, of not having you here, was far scarier than anything else.

You nodded, pressing the call button as Mingi shuffled past you, disappearing into his room. Your gaze lingered on the doorway long after he was gone.

For the duration of your marriage, you had never once stepped foot inside this room. The door had always remained shut, a silent boundary he had drawn long before he ever knew you. A reminder that no matter what legal document bound you together, there would always be parts of him you would never reach.

But as you took a step forward, following the faint sound of his phone vibrating somewhere in the great beyond, you couldn’t help but wonder if he’d let you glimpse into the parts of himself he had kept locked away.

You stood hesitantly by the threshold watching your husband rifling through his laundry, digging through pockets, and muttering to himself under his breath. The Mingi you had married would’ve cursed under his breath, thrown something, or blamed someone else for his misplaced phone.

But this version of him? He simply kept looking, patient and persistent.

His room was dimly lit with the faint scent of paint and cologne filling the space. Canvases leaned against the walls, some vibrant and abstract, others more detailed and unfinished sketches scattered across his desk.

Your gaze landed on a small canvas resting on the edge of his desk. The soft eyes and the cheeky glint, the little nose, and that signature smile. It wasn’t finished, but there was no mistaking it.

Maro.

“There it is,” Mingi muttered, plucking his phone from the ground next to his bed.

As he swiped the screen to end the call, his gaze flickered toward you, then followed yours to the canvas on his desk. He watched you carefully, half-expecting sadness, maybe even confusion. But instead there was something unexpectedly tender.

And then you looked at him, and Mingi felt it.

Why did you have to look at him like that? Like he had done something right for once. Like you saw him in a way that made his heart squeeze. His ears burned. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I… picked up painting,” he admitted. “My physical therapist said it’d help with motor skills and strengthening my hands and fingers.”

He swallowed. “I hope you don’t mind that I painted Maro. I… I wasn’t sure if I got the eyes right,” he admitted, almost shyly.

You stepped closer, drawn in by the familiar shape on the canvas. “It looks just like him,” you murmured, reaching out to trace the dried brushstrokes with your fingertips. The texture of the paint, the careful detail—Mingi had poured himself into this.

Mingi let out a sigh of relief but then, as if realizing something, tensed again a second later. “I—uh, it was supposed to be a surprise,” he blurted out, his eyes widening slightly, as if he’d just realized his mistake.

You blinked up at him. “A surprise?”

“For you,” he admitted, shifting awkwardly. His fingers toyed with the hem of his shirt like he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands.

“I wanted to give it to you when I felt like it was perfect. But, um… I guess I kind of ruined that, huh?” He let out a nervous laugh, scratching the back of his head.

“You painted this for me?”

He peeked at you through his lashes, leaving something softer and more vulnerable in its place as he gave you a small nod.

“I just… I know how much you loved—love Maro, and I thought maybe… you’d want something to keep. Something I made for you.”

Something only for you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Oh. Your heart squeezed at the sincerity in his voice and the way he’d poured so much of himself into a piece just for you was overwhelming.

“Oh, Mingi…” you breathed.

Emotion swelled in your chest, thick and impossible to name. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was stare at him—the quiet hope in his eyes, the way he watched you like he wasn’t sure what you’d do next.

“I love it,” you said, and you meant it. Not just the painting, but the thought behind it. It was just a painting. But it wasn’t. It was a piece of him—his effort, his sincerity, his quiet way of saying what he couldn’t put into words.

“Thank you.”

The words felt small, insufficient for the weight of what he had given you. But then he smiled—a slow, relieved, utterly radiant smile that knocked the breath from your lungs.

And suddenly, the moment stretched—too long, too precarious.

Your eyes flickered around the room, a sharp awareness settling over you. Mingi’s room. When did he get so close? When did you even come in here?

“I should…” You cleared your throat, glancing toward the door. “I should let you get back to painting.”

Before he could say anything, you turned, slipping out of the room, closing the door gently behind you. For a moment, you leaned against it, trying to steady the sudden pounding in your chest. But before you could make sense of anything—

The door creaked open.

“Wait.”

You turned, as Mingi poked his head out. There was a hint of bashfulness in the way his fingers gripped the doorframe, but his eyes held no hesitation.

“…You can leave it open.”

<< vii | ix >>

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

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

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beabatiny

5 months ago

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓆞 Jealousy Left Unwrapped - @freyaphoria yandere!matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Jenga And Jealousy - @hongjoongtime117 ot8 x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Little Accidents - @bombuni owners!matz x kitty!reader x kitty!wooyoung (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Light It Up! - @cybrsan matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Mark me as yours - @littlefireball dragon hybrid!yeosang x dragon hybrid!reader x dragon hybrid!seonghwa (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 How I Play - @tinyidle idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Important - @yunniverse bf!idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Intoxicating - @atzaurora idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Jealous Oppa~ - @mangomingus idol!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Kindergarten Love Story - @xomakara dad!kindergarten teacher!hongjoong x police officer!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Strange Tide - @jagibangbangchan pirate!seonghwa x siren!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Strawberry Cakes - @skrrts fiancé!non-idol!seonghwa x fiancé!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Take me to Paris... - @bvidzsoo mafia!seonghwa x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Take My Soul, Take My Heart - @itsbeeble pirate!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Taste Of You - @callmeagardengnome idol!seonghwa x mukbanger!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Day Off - @sweetiesicheng bf!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guerrilla - @sorryimananti-romantic doctor!serial killer!yunho x writer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ok, Cowboy - @everyonewooeverywhere cowboy!mechanic!yunho x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Video Game Lover - @crimsonbubble streamer!yunho x gn!reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓆞 You Right - @theyungihven bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Behind The Mask - @sweetblossomsss king!yeosang x servant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cotton Candy Skies - @shownusgfayoooo bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 The Doberman - @rems-writing bodyguard!yeosang x rapper!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Velvet Nights - @mingi-s-dimples angel!yeosang x angel!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Whispers In The Rain - @koyagifs idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 San Comes Home From Tour In The Middle Of The Night - @redzie02 idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stargazers - @xuchiya non-idol!san x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 That's What I Like - @theyungihven millionaire bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Untitled - @songsanpotato idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Wonderland - @/goldendynastys yandere!san x reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Comfortable Lazy - @skrrts bf!non-idol!mingi x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Unspoken Words - @koyagifs non-idol!mingi x reader ft.yeosang (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @dancinglikebutterflywings fiancee!mingi x fiancee!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @everyonewooeverywhere non-idol!mingi x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Wanted Dead Or Alive - @xomakara cowboy!mingi x heiress!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Sleepover - @kitten4sannie wooyoung x reader ft.mingi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 That's Not Your Food, Woo - @pettypuppy-jonghyun bf!idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Baby Bug - @xomakara dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 To Be The One - @cheeseceli idol!wooyoung x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @thelargefrye idol!wooyoung x ninth member!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Amusement Love - @koyagifs best friend!idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Inevitable Ending - @wwooyology prince!jongho x servant!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 I Wished For You - @nightbeforethend bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Surprise, Surprise - @dancinglikebutterflywings bf!non-idol!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @bombuni bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

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beabatiny

5 months ago

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘚𝘪𝘹 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼

𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Dramatic Ass - @srslyscary ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Friends!? - @starillusion13 poly!yandere!ot8 x reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 From Storm To Sunrise - @ad0rechuu yungi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Game Over - @mingi-s-dimples topaz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Gone - @srslyscary mafia!ateez x mafia!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Forgotten Melodies - @vampwritesstuff non-idol!hongjoong x reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Glares & Snuggles - @skrrts non-idol!hongjoong x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Guns & Kisses - @hee0soo mafia boss!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guns and Tiaras - @crimsonbubble mafia!hongjoong x reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hades - @lilacmingi hades!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Inner children - @xuchiya non-idol!seonghwa x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Lego Friday - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Little Brat - @mingtinysworld bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Maleficent - @lilacmingi maleficent!seonghwa x princess!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Me And My Husband - @the-midnight-blooms ceo!dad!seonghwa x scientist!mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Luck - @minkieater non-idol!yandere!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Morning Buddy - @everyonewooeverywhere bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 My Home - @yunniverse bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Office Secrets - @xomakara manager!yunho x employee!reader 𓆞 𓆞 Perhaps In Another Life - @outlawinthisworld1117 priest!yunho x fleabag!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Thunder Buddies - @yeonmuse non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Until I Found You [Part One] [Part Two] - @edenesth prince!yeosang x princess!reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Winner Takes It All - @ja3hwa best friend!yeosang x best friend!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Would You Choose Him Over Me? - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 White Silk - @skrrts non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Home is where you are - @evandsolo idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 In For A Ride - @ssweetreveries non-idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Kiss, Kiss, Fall In Love - @itstheghostofmypast bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Kitten Fever - @kitten4sannie hybrid!husband!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Late Night - @sweetiesicheng idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Missing Out - @songmingisthighs dilf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Mr. Mingi - @sugarnspice630 wonka!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Nail Polish - @atzaurora bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Older, Wiser, And Hotter Than Ever - @skrrts non-idol!mingi x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Pretty - @no1likejoongie husband!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Fried Egg - @jjoongstar chef!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Giggle Fits - @pettypuppy-jonghyun bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 How To Tame A Brat Tamer - @k-hotchoisan non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 I Can Hear The Sea - @daemour non-idol!wooyoung x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 I Don't Want Your Sorrys, I Want You Safe - @dvrktvnnel mafia!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼𓈒 𓏸 Strangers To Friends To Lovers - @adelusionforyourthoughts soloist!jongho x soloist!reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Talking To The Moon - @livsateez bounty hunter!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 The Pool - @beenbaanbuun non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Try Again [Part One] [Part Two] - @edenesth assistant!jongho x new maid!reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Unspoken Pain - @koyagifs non-idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

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beabatiny

4 months ago

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.

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

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beabatiny

6 months ago

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳! 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Cup Of Care - @woncon poly!woosan x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Ad Astra per Aspera - @alxtiny pirate!ot8 x navigator!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Ateez as Disney Princes - @edenesth disney prince!ot8 x disney princess!reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Meeting Single Mom Reader [Part One] [Part Two] - @reallychaoticwoo ot8 x single mom!reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ateez When Their S/o Gives Them Cuteness Aggression - @elllisaaa ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Anything You Could Do, I Could Do Better! - @pyeonghongrie teacher!hongjoong x teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Back Off! I’m Married - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Behind Closed Doors - @domm1etae idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Boy With The Pearl Necklace - @hongjoongtime117 idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Day & Night - @youngies-bae predebut!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 16.51 - @itstheghostofmypast bf!university student!seonghwa x university student!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 [23.27] - @yizhou-time non-idol!seonghwa x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Beneath The Candlelight - @atzaurora bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Breakfast - @littlefireball bf!seonghwa x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Dirty My Ride - @starminzoo rider!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Boyfriend - @notsoverymerry bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Communion - @kitten4sannie priest!yunho x nun!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Did You Like Her In The Morning?, Yunho | Die With A Smile, Yunho - @halaboyz bf!yunho x reader (two povs) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Don’t Smile - @tyungelic ex!yunho x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Drunk - @sweetiesicheng non-idol!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Behind The Eyes - @srslyscary non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Chicken Date - @augustbutwinter non-idol!yeosang x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Don't Forget About Me - @idyllic-ghost idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Fever - @beenbaanbuun bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Jennifer’s Body!Yeosang - @justaaveragereader jennifer!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 3:03 am - @323cutie bf!san x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Baby, Love Me Lights Out - @hongjoongspoetry idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Choi San As Associate Professor - @melsvt associate professor!fiancee!san x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Crimson - @hwaslayer non-idol!san x stripper!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Destined To Be A Girl Dad - @makeitmingi dad!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 3:07am - @/cheryrri bf!mingi x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Broken Doll - @freyaphoria yandere!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Cold Red Iron - @bvidzsoo iron man!mingi x secretary!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Dinner Table - @mingi-s-dimples bf!non-idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Friends To Lovers With Mingi - @lxvemaze friend!idol!mingi x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Almost Home - @shadowkoo bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Better Make This Quick - @xosannie non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Craving The Storm - @atzaurora bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Crown Heist - @srslyscary thief!wooyoung x queen!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Cyberpunk's Bartender - @rems-writing bartender!wooyoung x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Back From The Dead - @essenteez vampire!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Finding Our Way Back - @03jyh23 ex-bf!idol!jongho x ex-gf!single-mom!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Mr. CEO - @/milkandhwaney ceo!jongho x employee!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 My Comfort Is You - @crimsonbubble dilf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Punk Jongho Headcanon - @rems-writing punk!jongho × sweetheart!reader (headcanon) 𓈒𓏸

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beabatiny

5 months ago

I felt so sad when reader was talking to mingi in the hospital knowing he was at yeosang’s house, talking about his feelings too. *sobs*

This chapter was so good and I can’t wait for the next one! <3

strangers by nature | iii

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: 4.9K Warnings: just a little angst but we're finally on a lighter, fluffier chapter

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As you pulled into the parking lot of an unfamiliar apartment complex, Mingi’s ears perked up, his dark, expressive eyes widening with what could only be described as alarm. He’d been unusually fussy this morning, darting away every time you reached out to put his collar on, his little legs scurrying under the grand piano. And when you crouched down to coax him with chicken, he bolted under the couch, telling you that you’d never catch him.

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

As a human, Mingi wouldn’t have cared. He would have come and gone as he pleased, slipping through life without a second thought. Back then, you were just a fleeting presence—someone whose affection he had easily shrugged off. He never thought twice about the way you looked at him or how you cared in your own quiet way.

But things were different now.

You had become the one constant in his new world. The way you fussed over him, made sure he was fed, safe, and warm—it was something he hadn’t realized he needed until it was gone. The thought of being without you, even for one night, filled him with a fear he didn’t fully understand. What if you didn’t come back? What if you left him behind for good?

He let out a soft whine, his eyes flicking to you as if trying to convey the thoughts swirling in his mind: Don’t leave me. Not like this. Mingi squirmed under your touch, his soft fur slipping through your fingers as he wiggled in his seat. His gaze darted to the complex in front of you, his ears twitching at every sound, the unfamiliarity of it all clearly overwhelming.

When you opened the car door, he hesitated, his small paws stiff against your hands as you gently lifted him from the seat. Holding him close, you pressed your cheek into his soft fur.

“It’s going to be alright,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the ache tightening in your chest. “I’m going to miss you.”

With every step up to Yeosang’s door, Mingi clung to you, his gaze darting between you and the unfamiliar entryway. When Yeosang opened the door, his gentle smile eased some of the tension. Kneeling down to greet Mingi, Yeosang reached out, offering a reassuring presence to the uneasy figure in your arms.

"Hey, Maro! We’re going to have so much fun! I know Hetmon can’t wait to play with you! We have tons of treats and toys, and we can stay up as late as we want!”

Mingi burrowed deeper into your hold, his nose pressing against the crook of your arm as though trying to shield himself from the unfamiliarity of the moment. You could feel his heart racing, a rhythm that matched your own.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He didn’t pull away this time, but the tremble in his little body didn’t fade.

"I love you," you whispered gently, feeling the words catch in your throat. "I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Mingi blinked up at you, momentarily pulled from his anxious thoughts. You love me? The words settled over him, unexpected and profound. His tail gave a faint wag before drooping again.

There was something almost unbearable about the way you said it—so soft, so certain. As if he mattered. As if he was worth loving. He wanted to cling to his anger, to the bitterness he’d nurtured, to all the reasons he convinced himself to hate you. It was safer that way.

But in this moment, with your arms around him, his resolve began to falter under the quiet strength of your love. A lump formed in his throat as he let himself feel the ache of wanting to believe you. Slowly, he pressed himself into your chest, seeking refuge in your scent, in the fragile, fleeting comfort of your presence.

“Have fun, okay? I'll be back before you know it',” you promised, setting him down after one last hug.

Mingi wanted to believe you—to believe that you’d come back, that this wasn’t just another moment where he’d be left behind. But the fear was louder, whispering cruelly that once you were gone, you might never return.

When the door finally clicked shut behind you, an ache settled in his chest. He wanted to hate you for leaving him, for making him feel so vulnerable, so helplessly tethered to you. Anger and resentment would have been easier to bear than the raw, twisting pain inside him.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you held him—the way your arms had felt so steady, the way your lips had pressed gently to his head. And those words. I love you.

Did you mean them? Could they be real? Did he even deserve them?

As he was left to contemplate on his own, Hetmon plopped down with a soft thud, his large frame settling next to Mingi’s much smaller one. The doberman nudged him gently with his snout, his warm brown eyes filled with quiet sympathy.

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Hetmon said quietly. “It’s scary at first but then you get lots of snacks and snuggles! And I have lots of toys you can play with!”

But Mingi barely reacted, his tiny body stiff and unmoving, his gaze fixed on the door as though sheer willpower could bring you back. The sound of your footsteps fading down the hall felt like an unbearable loss, each step tugging at a string inside him he hadn’t even known was there.

“Maro,” Yeosang said gently. His voice was soothing, though it didn’t carry the same comfort yours did. “Why don’t we go into the living room? It’s more comfortable there.”

Mingi sprawled on the floor in his fluffy, sulking form, letting out a deep, reluctant sigh. His big puppy eyes darted toward Hetmon and then to Yeosang, filled with quiet resignation.

Yeosang didn’t push him, simply standing back and letting the puppy sulk in his own time. As a human, Mingi had always been used to getting his way. Pampered and spoiled, he’d rarely had to ask for what he wanted—everything had been handed to him, either out of obligation or fear of his temper. People didn’t treat him with kindness because they cared; they catered to him because it was easier than dealing with his tantrums.

But Yeosang and Hetmon were different–they were giving him something he didn’t quite know how to handle: genuine care and patience. They didn’t push, didn’t try to force him into compliance. It wasn’t about control or convenience—it was about seeing him, even when he was at his most vulnerable.

Yeosang exchanged a look with Hetmon, as if the two were silently agreeing on what to do next.

“Alright, let’s make this space cozy,” Yeosang said, his tone gentle but upbeat. “Something just for you and Hetmon.

Curious but still sulking, Mingi tilted his head as the living room was a flurry of motion. Yeosang draped blankets over the back of the couch and anchored them with cushions, creating a cozy little den. Hetmon grabbed a toy, carrying it over and dropping it right next to Mingi with a proud wag of his tail.

“There we go,” Yeosang said, standing back to admire the setup. The blanket fort was simple but warm, with soft lighting spilling through the gaps. He knelt down, peeking inside.

“What do you think, Maro? A place just for you and Hetmon.”

Mingi hesitated, his small paws inching forward as he sniffed cautiously at the fort. The structure, carefully built, carried faint traces of Yeosang and Hetmon’s familiar scents. Pausing at the entrance, his big, round eyes scanned the space nervously before retreating slightly, his posture low to the floor.

Yeosang settled beside the fort, keeping a respectful distance as he offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll be okay, Maro,” he said gently. “I promise we’ll take good care of you until Y/N comes back.”

⋆

You lay on the couch in the private suite, staring blankly at the ceiling as the low hum of the machines filled the silence. Your gaze drifted instinctively to Mingi, his frail form nestled amidst a series of wires and tubes. His chest rose and fell in steady intervals, yet the sight brought little comfort. He seemed so small, so fragile, swallowed by the sterile hospital bedding and the weight of his condition.

A shaky breath escaped you, uneven and strained in the stillness of the room. Part of you yearned to reach out, despite knowing he wouldn’t feel it. But the other part held you back, paralyzed by the thought that crossing that line would tear apart the fragile distance that had shielded you for so long.

Instead, you let yourself collapse further into the sofa, its cushions swallowing you whole. Your body sagged under the weight of exhaustion and grief, the kind that lingered in the pit of your stomach, making it hard to breathe.

“Hey,” you murmured softly, the word catching in your throat as though it could break the suffocating silence in the room. Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears, hoarse and uncertain, but the need to fill the stillness outweighed your discomfort.

“Do you dream of anything?” you asked quietly, your gaze flicking to his still form. “I mean, I hope it’s something good. Something better than this.”

Your fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket draped over you, the repetitive motion grounding you just enough to keep going.

“You know, I read somewhere that people in comas can hear things. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is, you’re probably thinking, Why won’t Y/N shut up?” You let out a shaky laugh, the sound bitter, more like a defense mechanism than actual amusement.

You shifted again, resting your head against the arm of the sofa, your gaze never leaving him. "Oh, uh, I got a dog," you said, the words coming out almost hesitant, like a confession.

"I found him outside of the hospital at 5 AM. It was after you were brought into the ICU. His name’s Maro. Cutest little thing ever. He’s really fluffy, kind of like a Pomeranian, except he has one floppy ear."

The corners of your mouth twitched into the faintest smile at the memory, but it disappeared just as quickly. Had he always seemed this small? Or was it the weight of his vulnerability now that forced you to see him differently?

You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to cry. Was it pity, guilt, or something else entirely? You weren’t sure if you were mourning the man you never got to know—or the one you never had the chance to leave behind.

"What am I doing?" you sighed to yourself, the words escaping in a combination of frustration and sadness.

You were talking to him. Hoping, somehow, that he could hear you. That even in the liminal space between life and the unknown, he might sense your presence. That he might know, even if you’d been so far apart in life, you weren’t going to leave him alone in this.

“I hate hospitals,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly as you glanced at the stark white walls.

“And now here I am again. Back in a place I never wanted to see again. And you’re the one lying there, hooked up to machines.” Your voice caught, and you swallowed hard, fighting the lump rising in your throat.

“And I hate it just as much as I did back then. Maybe more.”

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to your hands as you fidgeted with your sleeves. “I talked to your mom,” you began softly, your voice heavy with unspoken frustration.

“I tried to convince your parents to take turns staying overnight,” you continued, your voice cracking slightly.

“I thought maybe...maybe it’d be an opportunity to bring you closer together. That this—” you gestured faintly to the machines, “—would wake them up. But it’s like...nothing’s changed.”

The room fell silent again, save for the steady, monotonous beeping of the machines, a sound that felt almost mocking in its rhythm. You looked at Mingi’s face, so peaceful it made your chest ache. It felt unfair—like the calm didn’t belong here, not with everything unsaid hanging in the air.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat.

“They don’t deserve you, Mingi. I just...I just wanted them to see you. Really see you. Not the version of you they’ve made up in their heads.” You exhaled shakily, your gaze dropping again to your hands.

“You’re more than that. You’re just Mingi,” you said quietly. “And that’s enough. You’re enough.”

Your words drifted into the stillness of the room, fading into the hum of the machines. You pulled the thin hospital blanket closer, wrapping it tightly around yourself like a fragile shield against the cold. Closing your eyes, you told yourself you wouldn’t sleep—but the weight of exhaustion crept in, relentless and unyielding, until it finally pulled you under.

And in the quiet of your dreams, it felt as if he were also reaching out for you too.

Mingi laid on his belly, eyes fixed on the front door, refusing to move. After dinner, despite Yeosang arranging a cozy pile of blankets by the couch and Hetmon checking in persistently, Mingi remained rooted in place.

Hetmon was fast asleep in the blanket fort, while Yeosang lay stretched out on the floor next to it, his head propped up on one arm. The faint glow of the moonlight spilled through the curtains, bathing the room in silvery light.

"You must really love Y/N," Yeosang observed quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He turned his gaze toward Mingi, who sat a short distance away.

Mingi had never waited for you before, not like this. He had never looked forward to your presence, never longed to see your smile or hear your voice. But his heart ached in a way that he couldn’t explain. He could barely remember the last time he’d truly listened when you spoke to him, let alone considered that you might see something in him worth loving.

What could you possibly love about him? The man he had been was callous, dismissive, too caught up in his own bitterness to care about the hurt he caused. But you didn’t deserve any of it. He had been too proud, too angry to see that then.

But now, stripped of his humanity, stripped of his defenses, Mingi saw everything clearly. No walls to hide behind, no excuses to shield him from the truth. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it was too late to try and make things right.

Yeosang offered him a small smile, the kind that was patient and unwavering.

“Y/N loves you so much. You’ve become her whole world, even if you don’t realize it.”

Mingi’s ears flicked at the words, a pang resonating deep in his chest.

“Honestly,” Yeosang continued, “I’ve never seen anyone dote on a dog the way she does you. She keeps saying you’re special, you know? That you’re not like other dogs. And the way she looks at you—it’s like you’ve hung the moon.” He chuckled softly, his expression tender.

“I don’t think she’s wrong, though. There’s something about you.”

Mingi’s ears twitched again, and his eyes slid closed as a wave of bittersweet warmth washed over him. Yeosang had no idea how close to the truth he was. He didn’t know that the little dog lying here was the same Mingi who had spent years pushing you away, too afraid to let you in.

The weight of those thoughts grew unbearable, and Mingi slowly got to his feet, his small frame shivering slightly. He padded softly toward the pillow fort, and didn’t hesitate as he nudged his way inside, his nose brushing against Hetmon’s side.

“Hey,” Mingi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he crouched next to Hetmon. “You’re a good listener, right?”

Hetmon perked up immediately, tail wagging in eager agreement. “The best listener! Try me!” he chirped, his eyes bright and inviting.

“Remember when I told you…that I got turned into a dog because I did some…bad things? And you said you’d help?”

Hetmon tilted his head, his dark eyes softening as he let out a quiet, supportive huff. The playful glint usually present in his gaze gave way to something warmer, deeper—a promise that he was here.

Mingi swallowed hard, his ears lowering as his voice faltered. “Well I need your help…listening. I—I don’t even know where to start. I just…” His words trailed off, and he stared down at his paws as though they held the answers he was too afraid to find.

“I…I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want Y/N to leave me here, I want her to come back. I think…because I’m always used to being left behind.”

His gaze dropped, as if the weight of his words were too heavy to carry for his little form. “When I was a kid, my parents weren’t around much. My dad worked all the time, and my mom…she didn’t know what to do with me. I wasn’t easy—loud, stubborn. I broke rules just to see if they’d notice. And when they did, it was only because I made them look bad. That was the only time I felt…seen.”

Hetmon nudged closer, his nose pressing gently against Mingi’s side in quiet support.

“I just wanted their attention,” Mingi whispered. “For them to be proud of me, to love me for something good. But it never felt like enough. I only existed to them when I was a problem. Whatever it took to remind them I was there. And eventually, it wasn’t an act anymore. I just…became that person.”

“I wanted everything on my terms. Most people just gave me what I wanted because it was easier than dealing with me.” He paused, the next words catching in his throat before spilling out.

“Except for the engagement.”

He glanced away, unable to meet Hetmon’s gaze. “I accepted it because I thought it would make my parents proud,” he admitted quietly.

“I thought if I did this one big thing, if I played the role they wanted me to, I’d finally be enough for them. But it wasn’t what I wanted—it was never what I wanted.”

“I thought it would earn their approval, but all I did was hurt everyone—especially Y/N.”

Mingi curled in on himself, his nails digging into the cushion as his voice dropped to a whisper. “I made her life miserable because it was easier than letting her in. I couldn't be vulnerable with her.”

“She was the only one who ever stood up to me. And that scared me. Not because she made me feel small, but because…” His voice faltered. “Because she made me feel like I wasn’t in control. Like she could see the real me. Some spoiled kid desperate for someone to care.”

He stared down at his paws, uncertainty clouding his gaze. The enormity of his mistakes felt insurmountable. Would you even want to hear him out? Could he find the right words to make you understand how sorry he was?

He thought about the way you cared for him—not just the way you fed him or ensured he was comfortable, but the way you spoke to him softly, as if he were the most important thing in the world. The way your eyes lit up with genuine affection every time you saw him. You loved freely, without conditions or reservations, and he saw it in every small act, every moment you cared for him. It wasn’t just something he noticed once—it was unyielding.

And it made him realize just how deeply he’d failed you.

“I don’t know what it’ll take to turn back,” he murmured, “but I know I have to fix things. I owe her that much.”

For a moment, Hetmon didn’t move, as if processing the words. Then, with a cheerful wag of his tail, he shuffled closer, his dark eyes warm with encouragement.

“I’m glad you told me all that!” Hetmon chirped, his voice bright and unburdened. “It means we’re friends now, right? Real friends!”

Mingi blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of Hetmon’s declaration. He turned to look at him, his tail swishing lightly against the floor as Hetmon beamed up at him.

“Yeah…I guess we are,” he replied softly with a small smile.

“I don’t really know what ‘vulnerable’ means,” Hetmon admitted, his head tilting curiously, “but it sounds like sharing your favorite toy with someone, even if you don’t really want to! Because… you’re nice!”

A quiet chuckle escaped Mingi, and for the first time in a long while, the heavy knot in his chest loosened. “Yeah,” he said, his voice lighter, “it’s kind of like that.”

“Well, I’ll always share my toys with you,” Hetmon said, his tail wagging faintly. He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully before continuing, “Maybe you should share your toys with Y/N. You know, to show her how much you care.”

Mingi blinked, startled by the simplicity of the suggestion, but the earnestness in Hetmon’s voice made something inside him soften.

“We’re gonna go to the park tomorrow, so we need to save our energy to play chase… and maybe fetch too. Gotta make sure we’re ready. And then…” He trailed off for a moment, his breathing slowing as though on the verge of sleep, before murmuring, “And then we can think of ways to help make you human again.”

Mingi glanced up at the dog pressed against him. He’d never thought much about companionship before, but Hetmon’s unwavering optimism and warmth chipped away at the walls he’d built around himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’d like that too.”

Unbeknownst to Mingi and Hetmon, Yeosang sat quietly outside the fort. The sight of them—Hetmon nestled snugly against Mingi, both looking so peaceful brought a smile to his lips and a sense of relief. Maro was finally settling in. With a soft click, he snapped a photo, capturing the unexpected tranquility of the moment before shooting you a quick text.

“How do you know when you’re done with a task?” Hetmon asked, as his long legs carried him easily down the path to the dog park. The sleek doberman slowed his pace so Mingi could keep up.

“I don’t know,” Mingi muttered, his fluffy tail wagging in uncertainty. “Maybe… when it feels right?”

“That’s not an answer! What does ‘feels right’ even mean? Like when your belly’s full after eating?”

“Well…no. There’s something about my transformation that I didn’t tell you about. There was a man…he referred to himself as The Judge. I think I have to find him.”

Hetmon tilted his head curiously, moving gracefully beside Mingi. “Like an adventure? Are we going on a really long walk?” His tail wagged once, and he nudged Mingi playfully.

“What’s a judge, anyway?”

Mingi let out an exaggerated huff, his fluffy body bouncing slightly as Yeosang unleashed him. “A judge is, like…someone who decides stuff. Big stuff. Like who’s right, who’s wrong, and what happens next.”

“Oh, like my dad?”

“Not exactly.” Mingi frowned, struggling to explain. “A judge is about…being fair.” He paused, his small ears twitching as dogs of all shapes and sizes zoomed past. Mingi barely noticed them, lost in thought.

“The Judge decides if you’ve been bad or good,” he said, his tone growing quieter. “And if you deserve a second chance.”

Hetmon slowed his pace, glancing down at Mingi as they weaved through a bustling cluster of dogs sniffing at a water fountain. “So, what does he do if you don’t?”

Mingi froze, his fluffy tail stiffening as the unsettling atmosphere settled around them. The playful barks and chatter of the park faded, replaced by an eerie silence that made his hackles stand. Hetmon’s sharp ears swiveled forward, his nose twitching as he scanned their surroundings.

“Do you feel that?” he asked, his voice lowering to a cautious rumble.

Before Mingi could respond, a new presence entered their field of vision. A black cat perched atop a nearby bench, its eyes glinting with an unsettling intensity. It was a small thing, lithe and elegant, yet its presence carried an almost tangible weight. Its tail swished lazily, but there was nothing casual about the way it stared at them.

“Surprised to see me, Maro?” the cat purred, its voice smooth and taunting as it stretched languidly. Without breaking eye contact, it hopped down from the bench with a graceful leap and began to saunter toward them, its paws making no sound against the ground.

“You’re looking...lighter. Did someone have a little emotional breakthrough last night?”

Mingi’s ears flattened against his head, and his nose scrunched in irritation. “Who are you?”

Hetmon’s tail wagged excitedly, oblivious to the tension. “Hey, it’s a cat! Are you here to play too?”

The black cat let out a soft laugh, the sound equal parts amusement and condescension. “Oh, I’m always here to play,” it said, its tone dripping with mock sincerity. Its piercing eyes slid back to Mingi, a playful glint in them.

“But I don’t expect you to remember me in this form. You know, considering the state you were in last time we spoke.”

Mingi blinked, confusion spreading across his puppy face as he studied the cat more closely, trying to make sense of the situation. “The last time?” He squinted, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air, piecing the puzzle together.

“You’re the Judge.”

“In the flesh,” Wooyoung said, with an exaggerated bow. “Though, this is only one of the many forms I can take.”

“Why are you here?” Mingi growled, his nerves beginning to fray. There was something unnervingly calm about the cat’s presence.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Wooyoung replied casually, his voice light but carrying an underlying warmth. “And I couldn’t resist seeing how our dear Maro is holding up. Word is, someone’s been dabbling in a bit of self-reflection.”

He circled Mingi, his movements more curious than menacing. Mingi, however, wasn’t taking any chances. He scowled, puffing up his hackles instinctively, his narrowed eyes following Wooyoung’s every move.

“Imagine my shock when I heard whispers about you sharing your feelings and letting others in.”

Mingi’s fluffy tail gave an involuntary twitch, and his ears flattened against his head. If dogs could blush, he would’ve been beet red. “And what about it?” he barked, his voice rising in embarrassed frustration.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Wooyoung teased, his grin spreading wide and sharp, though his eyes sparkled with something closer to amusement than malice. “It’s adorable, really.”

Hetmon, ever the optimist, wagged his tail harder. “Sounds like you’re doing great! Even the kitty thinks so.”

“But I give credit where it’s due,” Wooyoung said, pausing mid-step to preen his face.

“You completed your first task, and it looks good on you. Dare I say, you might actually be growing as a person.” He let the compliment linger before flicking his gaze to Mingi’s fluffy form. “Or… dog. Whatever.”

“Uh… thanks, I guess?” Mingi muttered, his defensive posture softening slightly, though his tail still twitched with lingering unease.

“Don’t let it go to your head, fluffball,” he said, his grin returning, but now it was less sharp, almost fond. “You’ve still got a ways to go. But…” He tilted his head, his golden eyes glinting in the soft light.

“I suppose I’ll be watching with mild interest.”

For all of Wooyoung’s teasing, there was an odd comfort in the knowledge that someone—however mischievous—was paying attention to his journey.

“Maro!”

Mingi’s ears perked up instantly, his heart leaping at the sound of your voice. His head whipped around, and there you were, jogging toward him, grinning ear to ear. He didn’t think—he just bolted toward you, his excitement erupting in a series of joyous barks that echoed through the park.

Before you could even brace yourself, he launched himself into your arms. You stumbled slightly under the force of his leap, but your laughter bubbled out, ruffling his furn in that perfect way that always made him melt.

“I missed you so much!” you said, your voice warm and full of affection. You leaned your cheek against his head, holding him like you never wanted to let go.

“Looks like you had fun while I was gone.”

Fun? Sure, the dog park was fine. Hetmon was great. Even the bizarre encounter with Wooyoung had been…something. But none of it compared to this. None of it compared to you.

Mingi leaned his fluffy body into you, letting out a soft whine as his eyes closed. Your touch, your voice, your laugh—it was everything he didn’t know he needed until now. He’d missed you more than he could say, more than this form would allow him to show.

His mind wandered, as it often did, to a future where he wasn’t just a dog but himself again. Would you see him differently? Would you understand how much he cared, how much he’d changed? Would you give him a chance?

Maybe, just maybe, you’d look at him the way you did now—with a warmth that made him feel like the center of your world. The thought sent a spark of hope blooming in his chest, as bright and fragile as the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

Your arms tightened around him slightly, pulling him back to the present. And for now, that was enough. Mingi let out a soft, contented huff, nuzzling into you as if to say, I missed you, too.

“What’s gotten into you?” you teased.

Yeosang trotted over with Hetmon by his side. “He was a champ while you were gone,” he said, “but I think someone’s been counting the minutes until you came back.”

You laughed again, running your hand over Mingi’s head as he leaned into your touch. “Is that true, Maro? Were you waiting for me?”

Mingi barked softly in response, his tail wagging furiously now. In this moment, everything felt perfect. There was so much he wanted to say, words that his current form couldn’t fully express. But he would wait. He would wait for you, no matter how long it took.

<< ii | iv >>

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𓇼 beabatiny 𓇼 beabatiny reblog

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beabatiny

4 months ago

some of these deleted scenes were funny and creative

✗ Blood In The Clouds ✗ | DELETED SCENES | Original Fic

✗ blood in the clouds ✗ | DELETED SCENES | original fic

HOUR 5.5 OF 7 - YOUTUBE VLOGGING

your fingers crumpled the edges of the ‘script’ that hongjoong gave you, the gun ahead of you acting as an unwelcome reminder that you could die at any moment.

you squinted at the paper, your voice cracking slightly as you read aloud.

“‘dad, you are to provide the $150 million you owe to K.H.J., through your next meeting with mr kim. refusal means that your daughter will be cut up and scattered across the s-’”

your eyes widened. “are you serious?”

he lowered the camera he had been aiming at you. “..you want to find out, pretty?”

HOUR 15 OF 7 - DRESS TO IMPRESS

“are you always this picky?” wooyoung sneered as he leaned against the wall.

you glared at him. “yes.”

the room you were brought to was slightly cleaner and brighter than what you’ve seen so far. on the bed, there were dresses stacked on top of each other, some ridiculous and some stunning.

“why do you even have these dresses?” you asked as you held one up.

“we don’t,” wooyoung rolled his eyes. “boss made me steal them for you.”

you dropped the dress and shot him a look. “are you serious?”

“why would we have these lying around?” he scoffed.

you sighed, picking up a dress. something that was simple and elegant. “i’ll wear this one.”

when you realised that wooyoung ignored you, you spoke up again. “get out.”

he rolled his eyes and left the room with a dramatic huff. once he left, you put the dress on. it wasn’t the most flattering dress you’ve worn, but at least it wasn’t that horrid uniform you’ve been wearing.

when you were done, you opened the door to see wooyoung waiting - holding a bag of what looked like makeup supplies. you sat on the bed as he loomed through them, picking out something.

“what the hell is this?” he muttered as he held what looked like a pencil.

you blinked. “…it’s eyeliner.”

“shit,” he grumbled as his hand wobbled and drew a squiggly line across your cheek.

you flinched. “what the hell are you doing? i can do it myself-“

“-i’ve done this before!” wooyoung argued as he continued to draw crooked lines near your eyes.

“is she done yet?” a new voice cut in. you turned to see a man at the doorway. “why is she not ready?”

“seonghwa, take over,” wooyoung snapped as he shoved the pencil into seonghwa’s hands. “i’m getting pissed off.”

seonghwa sighed and stepped forward to where you were sitting. his movements were calm and precise as he wiped off the makeup and reapplied it.

once he was done, he stepped back with a nod. “you look good.”

you blinked, unsure of whether to thank him. “uh- do you guys have mirrors here?”

both men exchanged a glance before seonghwa shrugged. “no, but just take our word for it.”

before anyone else could say anything, the door swung open.

it was hongjoong.

his eyes swept over you slowly and his lips curled into a smirk that made your stomach twist. “let’s go pig hunting.”

HOUR 16 OF 7 - FAST AND FURIOUS

the car swerved violently, tires screeching as hongjoong gripped the steering wheel. the tunnel around you was noisy with gunshots and bullets bouncing off the walls.

you were in the passenger seat, wearing a black dress as you held the car door for dear life.

“i thought we were going to an event!” you yelled over the gunshots as the car jerked to the side.

“i thought so too,” hongjoong sighed as he tilted the rearview mirror.

before you could say anything, he reached into his blazer and pulled out a sleek black pistol.

“what are you doing?” your jaw dropped.

he rolled his eyes. “don’t act surprised.”

“what is wrong with you?!” you spat out, watching him check the bullets. “i’m not letting you kill anyone-“

“god- you’re such a brat,” he clicked his tongue, cocking the gun. “take the wheel.”

you’re eyes widened. “what?!”

“take. the. wheel,” he ordered, already unbuckling his seatbelt.

hongjoong rolled down the window, letting go of the steering wheel entirely and ramming the gas pedal as he stood up. panicked, you lunged for the wheel, struggling to grip it as the car swerved dangerously to the side. “are you crazy?!”

“drive!” he yelled, raising the gun and firing several shots at the black SUV trailing close behind.

“shit,” he muttered, ducking back inside to reload his gun. he leaned back out again. “turn right-”

you quickly listened to him as he aimed carefully, firing several more rounds. a loud bang echoed as the SUV’s tires blew out, the vehicle swerving violently before crashing into the tunnel’s wall.

hongjoong slid back into the seat, taking the steering wheel from you as he rolled up the window. “you’re welcome.”

MONTH 3 - LET’S GO GAMBLING! (initial draft)

“get ready!” san yelled, his voice cutting through the noise.

weapons were drawn and the room erupted into chaos.

you rushed forward, gripping the knife wooyoung lent you earlier. your pulse pounded in your ears as you scanned the room, overwhelmed.

“stay back, brat. you’re not ready.”

hongjoong’s voice was sharp, his hand grabbing your arm as he pushed you to the side. his eyes bore into yours, leaving no room for argument.

you hesitated. the rest of the group either fought piglets near slot machines, roulette tables or bars, their moves deadly.

you tried to follow hongjoong’s order, really. but when you saw one of the piglets break away from the main fight and headed for yeosang, who was hiding under a pool table, you couldn’t resist.

your grip on the knife tightened as you ran forward.

the piglet turned to you, snarling. “you think you can take me, girl?”

without thinking, you lunged.

the clash of steel pierced your ears as your knives collided. you were definitely not a good fighter - your strikes were clumsy and your footing was off, but you were high on adrenaline.

his blows were relentless, forcing you to backpedal. his knife caught yours at an odd angle, causing the blade to deform.

panic surged through you as he moved to strike again, but before he could reach you-

-the piglet dropped to the ground.

you looked behind to see hongjoong standing not too far away, his pistol still aimed at where the piglet was.

his eyes inspected you, narrowing as he assessed your state. blood dripped from a small gash on your lip, and your sleeves were torn - revealing small cuts on your arms.

he sighed. “go hide with yeosang,” he ordered before quickly turning to rejoin the fight.

you staggered toward the pool tables, slumping next to yeosang.

“you’re not fighting?” you panted, wiping your lip.

he shook his head. “too tired.”

you nodded, leaning back against the table’s leg as you impatiently waited for the fight to end, which didn’t take too long.

the gunfire finally ceased, the room falling quiet.

one by one, the group gathered in the corner, collapsing onto the floor in a circle as you and yeosang joined them. bottles of water were passed around as everyone caught their breaths.

for a while, no one spoke, the only sounds being an occasional groan.

“hey,” wooyoung hiccuped, breaking the silence as he turned to you. “give me my knife back.”

you looked at him awkwardly before handing him his completely deformed blade.

“what the hell!” he exclaimed. “that was one of my favourites!”

you shrugged. “you shouldn’t have given it to me then.”

“how was i supposed to know you’d get into an actual fight?” wooyoung complained. “now i don’t feel bad for your busted lip anymore.”

“you’re such a dick,” you rolled your eyes.

wooyoung grinned, leaning closer - his voice mocking sweet. “aw, don’t be mad, sweetheart. i’ll get you a better knife- one that won’t break in your delicate fucking hands.”

“ohmygod- shut up,” you groaned, shoving him lightly as the others chuckled.

hongjoong leaned against the wall, his arm crossed over his chest. his eyes shifted from wooyoung to you.

he told himself it was relief - that he was glad you were bonding with the crew, that you were starting to feel like one of them. that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? to see you mesh with his team, to become a member?

but why did his stomach twist every time one of them smiled at you?

he didn’t realise how hard his fingers were digging into his arms until his knuckles turned sore and white.

“enough,” hongjoong cut through the conversation.

the laughter died down instantly as everyone turned to him.

“we don’t have time for this,” he continued, standing up. “grab any cash you find and meet by the van. now.”

the group complained but obeyed, sluggishly rising to their feet.

you went to pick up a discarded water bottle, hongjoong’s eyes lingering a fraction too long on the bloodied edge of your sleeve and the small cut on your lip.

he should be angry at you for disobeying him, for throwing yourself into danger when you weren’t ready. but all he could feel was the sickening churn of jealousy at how easily you laughed with the others.

as you passed by him on your way out, he caught your wrist briefly.

“next time, stay where i tell you,” he said. “now you’re hurt.”

you nodded, hesitating before you spoke, your voice soft. “...i’m sorry.”

hongjoong blinked, taken aback.

“i-” your brows furrowed. “i didn’t mean to get hurt. i just wanted to help..”

fuck- why, no- how were you so genuine?

he expected you to talk back or shrug him off, not this - sincerity shining in your eyes. now, he just looked like a shithead, guilt clawing at his chest.

hongjoong exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “whatever- it wasn’t your fault-”

you tilted your head, confused. “but you-”

“just find the cash we need,” he cut you off, walking away.

hongjoong felt his stomach twist once more. he told himself it was just concern or worry. but deep down, he knew it was something more complicated.

and he hated it.

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beabatiny

1 month ago

I have the same mbti as him so i’m not surprised

thank you for tagging me I think you’re cool too

tagging 🏷️ @lividstar @solaris-amethyst

(you guys don’t gonna do this if you don’t want to)

quiz tag game + your bias

i found this cute personality quiz while i was scrolling thru twt and i thought it’d be fun to do here hehe :3

how did they know i cry super easily TT skjwhw

np taggies: @yourfatherlucifer @cottoncandy-girl @bvidzsoo @mysteriousrainsworld @svintsandghosts @coffee-addict-kitten @sp4ceboo @sorryimananti-romantic @wwooyology @mimikittysblog @crimsonbubble @potatomountain @almightyddeonghwa @hongjoongspoetry @ateezscupid +anyone who’d like to join in <333

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beabatiny

2 months ago

AHHHHHHHHHH MY BABIES 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

strangers by nature | vii

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 >>

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