I Need Someone To Hug Reader I’m So Serious
I need someone to hug reader i’m so serious
strangers by nature | iv
Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 5.7K Warnings: a little angst, mental health care, hints of child abduction, mentions of death, mentions of infidelity
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a/n: being sick means more time to bust out content
You paced around your bedroom, restless energy driving each step as the anticipation of your upcoming therapy session settled over you. The faint glow of the laptop screen illuminated the room, the app open and waiting. The timer ticked down with an almost menacing rhythm as you adjusted the laptop, twisting it slightly left, then right, before stepping back to assess the angle.
Tired eyes stared back at you, dulled by sleepless nights, and the lines on your face seemed deeper, etched by the weight of too many burdens. No amount of hydrating could fix this.
The laptop chimed, signaling the start of the session. With a heavy sigh, you clicked "Join." The screen flickered, and soon the familiar face of your therapist, Jungah, came into view.
“Y/N! How are you?”
You hesitated, your eyes darting to the floor for a moment. “I’m...well, a lot has happened since our last session.”
Jungah nodded gently, her expression softening as she leaned in, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Tell me more,” she encouraged.
“Mingi was in an accident,” you said, the words feeling heavier as they left your mouth. “He’s…in a coma right now.”
“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now! How are you holding up?”
You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to respond. “I’m pretty overwhelmed. I got a dog though, which is great. But everything about the situation just feels so…complicated,” you admitted, your voice dropping slightly.
“Part of me feels like I should be…devastated. And I am, in a way. I think just because we’ve always had such a difficult relationship.”
“It’s okay to feel all of those things. There’s no ‘right’ way to process something like this. What’s been the hardest part for you?”
You hesitated, your fingers tracing patterns on the edge of your desk as your thoughts churned.
“Probably the fact that it reminds me of when Hongjoong was in the hospital. During his battle with cancer.”
“Right, and we talked about that in our first session. What kind of feelings does this bring up for you?”
You swallowed hard, the words clawing their way out of you.
“Guilt. I can’t believe I was in class when it happened,” you began, your voice already trembling. Your voice cracked, and you gripped the edge of the desk tightly. Your breath hitched, and you shook your head as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“I should have been there,” you said, the words spilling out in a rush, your voice rising with emotion. “I should’ve skipped class, stayed by his side, done something. I thought I had more time, and then—then I didn’t.”
A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
“He died alone. Alone. And I wasn’t there to tell him I loved him one last time, to hold his hand, to let him know he wasn’t alone.”
You pressed your palm against your chest, as if trying to steady the ache threatening to consume you.
“And now, with Mingi,” you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. “We’ve never been close. But the thought of leaving him alone, of him waking up, o-or dying and not having anyone there, makes it feel like it’s happening all over again.”
Your voice broke completely, and a sob tore from your throat. You buried your face in your hands, fingers clutching at your temples as though trying to contain the flood of emotions pouring out.
Mingi’s head shot up, his ears twitching as the sound of your broken sobs filled the room. Panic flashed in his eyes, and he scrambled to his feet, the urgency of your pain pulling him forward. He stumbled slightly, his small paws skidding on the floor in his haste, but he didn’t stop until he was in your lap.
With all the force his tiny body could muster, he pressed against you, nudging your hands, pawing at your chest—anything to pull you back from the edge. His movements were frantic, almost desperate, as if he could piece you back together with his touch.
No, no, no, don't cry.
“Why does this keep happening to me?” you choked out. You curled in on yourself, arms wrapping around your middle as if to contain the grief threatening to consume you whole.
Mingi had never seen you like this. The weight of it crushed him—heavier than any argument you’d ever had, sharper than the harshest words exchanged in anger.
He’d known about Hongjoong’s death in a detached, matter-of-fact way—something that had happened before your lives became entangled. But until now, it hadn’t occurred to him how deeply that loss had scarred you, how it marred your heart.
You weren’t just the person he’d been forced to marry, the one he’d spent so much energy resenting and clashing with. You were a whole person—someone who had loved, lost, and carried burdens he hadn’t even noticed.
“Y/N,” Jungah said softly, “take a deep breath with me. Just one. In through your nose...and out through your mouth.”
You tried to follow her lead, managing a shaky inhale, then exhaling in a stuttering gasp, fresh tears spilling down as you followed the motions.
“It’s not your fault,” Jungah said. “None of this is your fault—not Hongjoong’s passing, and not Mingi’s accident. You loved Hongjoong, and you’re doing everything you can for Mingi now. That’s what matters.”
“That’s the problem,” you said, your voice trembling. “I shouldn’t be the only one. His parents—” Your words caught, a wave of anger rising in your throat, hot and bitter, cutting you off mid-sentence.
“They wouldn’t even take turns staying with him at the hospital! I asked. But his mom brushed me off like it was nothing, like their son lying there broken didn’t matter.”
Jungah’s face softened with understanding, but you could see the anger flicker in her eyes. “That’s not on you, either. They’re the ones failing him, not you.”
“I just…I just can’t stand the thought of him being alone. Even after everything he’s done, after all the hurt—he doesn’t deserve that. No one does.”
Mingi’s heart clenched—not with guilt, but with a profound, almost overwhelming sense of gratitude. You were angry, hurt, and exhausted, yet you still stood up for him. You still wanted to be there for him, even after all the ways he’d hurt you, you stayed.
It struck him then–he had spent so much time fighting against your world, your pain, but had never truly tried to understand it.
“You’re right to be angry. They should be there for him, but they’re not, and that’s their shame to bear. You, on the other hand, have gone above and beyond. You’ve stayed. You’ve cared. And that says so much more about who you are.”
“I’m so tired,” you admitted. "I don’t even know if I’m doing this because I care or because I’m afraid of looking like a terrible person. I just want to do the right thing, but I don’t know what that is anymore.”
“Y/N,” she said gently, “it sounds like you’re carrying a lot and putting everyone else’s needs before your own. You know, it’s okay to prioritize yourself.”
“I know, I know.” You ran a shaky hand through your hair, “I don’t know what that looks like for me right now. I think I just care too much about people who’d never do the same for me. I feel…pathetic, honestly.”
“I hear you,” Jungah said softly. “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s natural to question where you stand, especially when you give so much of yourself to others and don’t always get it back.”
Your gaze drifted down to Maro, his soft brown eyes watching you intently. As if sensing your turmoil, he nudged his head against your hand. You offered him a weak smile, gently scratching behind his ears.
“But I need you to hear this, Y/N. You’re showing compassion, and there’s incredible strength in that. You’re standing up for someone who needs your care and your support, someone who may not even realize how much they need you right now.”
“Taking care of yourself isn’t a betrayal of those qualities, it’s a part of them. You deserve the same care you give to everyone else. You’re worthy of that, Y/N. You need to remember that.”
Jungah smiled softly as your therapy session came to a close. “We’ll keep working through this, step by step. For now, just think about what self-care might look like for you. You’ve been through so much, Y/N. Give yourself the grace you so readily give to others.”
“Thank you,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes.
With a shaky exhale, you gave her a small, grateful wave before reaching out to end the call. The screen went dark, and the silence of the room rushed in to fill the space where her voice had been.
For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the blank screen of your laptop. The tears welled up again, but this time they came slower, quieter, as if you were finally too tired to hold them back. You let out a long, trembling sigh before looking down at Maro, who was watching you intensely.
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as he nestled into your chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his fur, your voice barely audible.
You didn’t even know exactly what you were apologizing for—maybe for being angry, for feeling conflicted, for not having all the answers. But Mingi didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he nuzzled closer, his way of silently telling you he understood, that he saw the pain you were carrying.
He could feel it all—the storm raging inside you. The guilt, the exhaustion, the anger. He was someone who had hurt you, who had failed you in ways he couldn’t begin to measure. Yet here you were, holding him as if he was still worth fighting for.
You were fighting—for him, for yourself, for the hope that things could be different. And though he didn’t know if he deserved it, Mingi silently willed you to keep going. Somehow, in the stillness, he realized something…you were his reason to fight, too.
⋆
The café was quiet when you arrived, the gentle hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware blending into a soft, comforting din. Near the window, Mrs. Kim sat in the warm glow of sunlight, quietly leafing through a stack of sheet music while humming along to the notes.
“Y/N!” she greeted, her face lighting up as she caught sight of you. Rising from her seat, she pulled you into a gentle hug, her familiar warmth easing the lingering tension in your shoulders. Her gaze dropped, and her expression softened when she noticed the small figure nestled at your feet.
“And who is this?” The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.
“This is Maro,” you replied, scooping him up into your arms. His ears perked up at the sound of his name, his curious eyes darting toward Mrs. Kim.
“I hope it’s okay that I brought him along.”
Mrs. Kim chuckled, her hand already reaching out toward him. “Of course it’s okay,” she said warmly, her fingers brushing against his soft fur as she gently scratched behind his ears. Maro leaned into her touch, his fluffy tail wagging slightly.
“It’s nice to have some extra company.”
You sat down, and Maro settled under the table as the server came by to take your order. Hongjoong’s mother watched you for a moment, her gaze warm but thoughtful, as if she was piecing something together.
“You seem…tired,” she noted softly.
You let out a dry chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “When you’re married to the most narcissistic family on the planet, it kind of comes with the territory,” you replied with a wry smile, the humor in your words unable to mask the weariness behind them.
Mingi let out a quiet huff, his ears flicking back as he gave you a sidelong glance from his position under the table. His frown was subtle but noticeable, a clear sign that he didn’t entirely agree with your assessment of his family—even if he couldn’t voice his objections.
“Marriage can be… complicated,” she said gently, lifting her mug to her lips, “but it’s in those challenges that we often discover who we really are.”
Mrs. Kim folded her hands over the sheet music, her gaze warm yet thoughtful. “It’s also about finding ways to grow together. It’s often the small, quiet decisions to stay and try that matter most, even when it feels impossible.”
She paused before adding, “I know the Songs can be…intense. But people like that are mirrors. They reflect parts of yourself—your strengths, weaknesses, and fears. Facing those reflections isn’t easy, but it can lead to unexpected growth.”
“I just wish it didn’t feel like a constant fight. Like I’m always proving something—to them, to myself, to Mingi.”
“Proving yourself is exhausting. But maybe, without realizing it, you’re showing them how to fight for something worth keeping.” Mrs. Kim’s voice was gentle, her words lingering in the air before she added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, before I forget…”
She slid the stack of sheet music into your hands, your breath caught as you scanned the pages, immediately recognizing Hongjoong’s handwriting—the chaotic, unruly script that mirrored the way his mind danced through ideas, always just a little ahead of itself.
“Jazz?” you murmured, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.
“Just a few of his hundreds of compositions he’d written over the years,” she explained, her own smile touched with sadness. “I thought…you might want to have them.”
You ran your fingers lightly over the pages, the notes and markings so distinctly him—bold, inventive, and just a touch wild. The ache in your chest swelled, but it was softened by the warmth of the memory.
“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “This means a lot.”
“He always wanted his music to be shared, to bring people joy. I think he’d be happy knowing you have these.”
Under the table, Mingi pawed at Mrs. Kim’s leg. It was a small, almost instinctive gesture, as if even in his canine form, he wanted to ease the weight of her sadness. Mrs. Kim’s gaze softened as she glanced down at him.
Mingi studied her closely, sensing the deep sadness she carried beneath her calm demeanor. It was an enduring grief for her son, one that seemed to seep into every word she spoke and every careful action she took. Yet, she never let it consume her. Instead, she channeled it into wisdom, offering others a sense of peace and understanding.
He couldn’t help but wonder if his own mother would ever be capable of finding those same emotions.
“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” she murmured, her voice low, almost as though she were speaking to herself.
“Thank you for keeping me company, dear.”
Mingi tilted his head, his small tail wagging slightly as he considered her words. People often avoided what they didn’t understand or couldn’t fix. And yet, here he was, a tiny puppy, silently promising her he wouldn’t be one of those people—at least, not today.
“Excuse me? Have you seen my daughter?”
The frantic question cut through the murmur of the busy street. Mrs. Kim and Mingi turned in unison, her hand still resting on the leash as her gaze landed on the source of the voice. You looked up from adjusting your coat just in time to catch the woman’s anxious expression as she stopped abruptly, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “My daughter, Yena, she’s...she’s gone! She was right beside me just a moment ago, and now I can’t find her. She’s five, wearing a pink jacket and yellow rain boots?”
Mrs. Kim’s eyes softened immediately, her expression one of concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. We haven’t seen her, but we’ll keep an eye out for her.” She turned to you for confirmation, and you nodded, already scanning the area.
“Thank you, thank you,” she said, though her gaze was already shifting, searching the busy street.
“I turned around for a second and the next thing I knew, she’s gone!”
“No, don’t blame yourself,” Mrs. Kim said gently, her voice steady and soothing. “Children are naturally curious. Let’s focus on finding her now. Have you called the authorities?”
The woman nodded quickly, her hands trembling as she fumbled to show a picture of her daughter on her phone.
“Yes. This is her,” she said, holding her phone out for you to see.
Pictured was a bright-eyed little girl, with round cheeks, grinning widely as she clutched a stuffed rabbit nearly as big as she was.
“Where did you last see her?” you asked, already forming a mental map of the area.
“Just over there,” the woman said, her hand shaking as she pointed toward the park entrance.
“We were sitting by the benches under the oak tree, and I turned to grab her water bottle from my bag…” Her voice wavered, and she paused, her breaths growing shallow and erratic as the memory clearly consumed her.
“It’s okay,” you interjected gently, your tone steady and reassuring. You leaned in slightly, meeting her panicked gaze.
“You’ve done the right thing by calling for help. We’ll keep an eye out for her and report anything we find to the authorities.”
The woman nodded shakily, clutching her phone as if it were a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her fear.
You gave her a reassuring smile, though the heaviness in your chest lingered.
With a quick nod, you and Mrs. Kim turned to make your way toward the park, leaving Yena’s mother behind to continue her frantic search.
“How unfortunate,” Mrs. Kim sighed after a moment, breaking the silence. She shook her head, her expression clouded with sympathy.
“I can’t imagine what that woman is going through. Losing sight of your child, even for a second...it’s a nightmare no parent should ever have to endure.”
Mingi gave a small huff, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. His steps quickened slightly, and you had to tighten your grip on the leash to keep him from pulling too far ahead.
She’s around here somewhere, his instincts told him as he sniffed the air again. Something about the situation—the mother’s panic and the child’s vulnerability, tugged at a deep place in his heart. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know Yena, she was small, defenseless, and alone. That was enough for Mingi to feel protective.
He remembered the times he’d been alone, in places where no one called his name or came looking for him. But Yena wouldn’t feel that loneliness, not if Mingi could help it. She needed someone, and he was determined to be that someone.
Whatever loneliness he’d known in his own life, he wouldn’t let a lost little girl feel it. Not while he could do something about it.
Mingi sniffed the air again, his movements growing more urgent. His ears twitched, his muscles tensed, and his posture shifted, radiating a focused energy that caught your attention. You noticed his change immediately, the way he stopped sniffing idly and started searching with intent.
“Maro?” Your grip on the leash tightened instinctively as he stepped forward, his nose brushing the ground before lifting to sniff the air again.
Mingi hesitated for a moment, his body rigid, as though confirming something only he could sense. Then, without warning, he surged forward, the leash pulling taut in your hands.
“Maro, wait!” you called, trying to hold him back, but his determination overpowered your grip. With a quick twist of his body, Mingi wriggled free of his harness. The loop fell to the ground with a soft thud, and in a flash, he was off.
“No!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest. You took off after him, your heart pounding as his barking grew louder, guiding you toward his destination.
He darted through the park, weaving between trees and darting past startled spectators, as though he were following a trail only he could detect. You struggled to keep up, adrenaline driving your steps as you sprinted after him.
"Go away!" Yena cried, her voice breaking as she snatched her arm away from the strange woman. Her wide, tear-filled eyes darted around the clearing, searching for an escape.
"I'm not a stranger," the woman said, her tone syrupy but strained, a smile tugging uncomfortably at the corners of her lips.
"I’m your mommy’s friend."
"My mommy said never to go with strangers!”
The woman crouched slightly, her smile tight and unnatural as her patience began to wear thin.
“I told you, I’m not a stranger,” she said, her voice growing sharper. Her eyes glinted with something cold as she glanced around the clearing.
“You’ll be in trouble if you don’t listen to me, little girl. Do you want that?”
Before the woman could reach for her again, furious barking erupted from the trees. Mingi charged into the clearing, positioning himself between the girl and the woman, his growls low and menacing.
“Shoo!” she snapped, waving her hand at him as though he were a mere nuisance. “Get out of here, you little pest!”
But Mingi didn’t flinch. His growls deepened, his stance lowering as if ready to lunge if she dared to come closer. His determination seemed to fill the air, daring her to make a move.
“A puppy!” Yena gasped, her tears momentarily forgotten as she crouched slightly behind him.
“Maro!” you called, your voice sharp. He turned briefly, his tail wagging slightly at the sound of your voice, but he quickly refocused on the woman, his growls resuming.
The woman’s gaze darted between you and the dog, her jaw tightening. For a fleeting moment, her eyes locked with yours, and recognition flashed in her expression—a flicker of something dark and calculated. Her lips curled into a sneer before she turned and bolted, disappearing into the trees with a speed that left you stunned.
Mingi barked after her once, but then turned his attention back to Yena. Rising onto his hind legs, he nudged her gently as if urging her to sit. Once she did, he hopped into her lap without hesitation, his warm, furry body pressing against hers like a shield.
Yena gasped softly at the contact, her small hands instinctively clutching at his soft fur. She buried her fingers into his coat, the warmth and comfort he provided allowing her sobs to finally break free.
“Oh my god, Yena!” you gasped, dropping to your knees beside her. Your hands hovered for a moment, unsure whether to touch her or give her space. “Are you okay?”
Yena peeked up at you, her tear-streaked face still pressed against Mingi’s side.
“The bad lady’s gone?” she whispered, her voice fragile.
“She’s gone,” you assured her. You reached out, brushing a strand of her disheveled hair away from her face.
“Maro made sure of it. He scared her away.”
“He’s a good puppy,” she murmured shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers stroked his back, and though her movements were timid, they carried a quiet gratitude.
Your hands fumbled for your phone, the adrenaline making your fingers clumsy. You swiped at the screen, barely managing to bring up Mrs. Kim’s number. Pressing the call button, you held the phone to your ear, your eyes scanning the tree line as if to ensure the woman wouldn’t reappear.
The phone rang once, then twice, before Mrs. Kim’s voice came through, steady but laced with worry.
“Did you find her?” she asked, her words hurried.
“Yes,” you said quickly, glancing down at Yena, who was still clutching Maro. “She’s here. She’s safe, but…” You hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing.
“Call the cops. I’ll stay here with her until they arrive.”
⋆
The faint sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, and when you glanced toward the path, you saw Mrs. Kim, Yena’s mother, and two officers running toward you.
“Yena!” she called, her voice cracking as she rushed forward.
“Mommy!” Yena cried, scrambling to her feet, still clutching Mingi. She stumbled toward her mother, who dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her daughter tightly. Yena buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if—” Her voice broke, and she hugged Yena even tighter.
“I don’t know how I can ever repay you!” she continued.
You shook your head gently, offering her a warm, reassuring smile. “There’s no need,” you said, your voice calm but earnest. “I’m just glad I was here to help. That’s all that matters.”
Mingi barked softly, as if echoing your sentiments. His tail wagged as he sat back at your feet, looking every bit the proud protector he was. Yena pulled back slightly from her mother’s embrace, wiping at her eyes with one hand while the other reached down to pet Mingi.
“The puppy saved me,” she said softly, her voice still shaky but filled with awe. “He scared the bad lady away.”
You crouched down to Mingi’s level, scratching behind his ears. “He’s the real hero here,” you said, glancing up at Mrs. Kim with a small smile.
“He knew something was wrong before I did.”
Mingi let out a happy huff, rolling onto his back to expose his belly, practically inviting Yena to join in the celebration. The little girl giggled through her tears, her small hands eagerly scratching his side.
Yena’s mother knelt beside her, her trembling hand reaching out hesitantly. Her fingers brushed over Mingi’s soft fur, and her lips quivered with emotion.
“Thank you,” she whispered again, her voice cracking as she looked back at Yena. “Thank you both.”
“Ms…?” one of the officers interrupted gently, his notebook in hand.
“Choi,” you said, standing to face him. “Um, I’m Choi Y/N.”
“Do you mind providing a witness statement?”
“Of course,” you replied, taking a steadying breath. “I was walking my dog when I saw a woman with Yena,” you began.
“The woman claimed she was a friend of the mother, but something about her seemed…off. She got increasingly aggressive when Yena didn’t cooperate.”
The officer nodded, scribbling rapidly in his notepad. “Can you describe the woman?”
“She looked like she was her forties,” you said, replaying the scene in your mind. “Dark hair, pulled back tightly. She was wearing a black jacket and purple pants and seemed disheveled. When I caught up to Maro, she froze like a deer in the headlights and bolted into the trees.”
“Did you see which direction she ran?”
You nodded, pointing toward the dense tree line a few yards away. “That way. She moved fast, like she knew exactly where she was going.”
The officer glanced in the direction you indicated, then back at his notes with a heavy sigh.
“We’ll search the area and alert nearby units to be on the lookout for someone matching her description. In the meantime, thank you for stepping in. Your dog’s instincts likely saved this little girl.”
As the officers wrapped up their investigation, you crouched down one last time to Yena’s level. Her wide eyes were still a little red from crying, but there was a sparkle of hope in them now.
“You were so brave today. And you know what? Maro thinks you’re a hero, too.”
Yena’s lips curled into a shy smile as she reached out to pet his head. He leaned into her touch, his tail wagging lazily.
“Can I play with him again sometime?”
“Anytime,” you promised. “You just let your mom know, and we’ll make it happen.”
With a final wave, you gave Mrs. Kim a quick hug, murmuring your thanks before sheepishly retrieving the sheet music you had almost forgotten. Clutching it tightly, you turned to leave, Mingi falling into step beside you.
The walk home was quieter now, the crisp night air carrying the faint rustle of leaves. Mingi trotted happily at your side, his leash loose, as if he understood the weight of the moment but chose not to linger on it. Instead, his steady presence offered you a quiet comfort, grounding you in the stillness of the night.
When you reached the penthouse, you slipped off your shoes, hung up Mingi’s leash, and set the sheet music on the music shelf.
“Well, today was something else,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck as you flopped onto the couch.
Before you could settle in, Mingi hopped up beside you, his fluffy tail wagging in a lazy rhythm. Without hesitation, he settled into your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
You chuckled softly, your fingers finding their way behind his ears, scratching gently in a spot you knew he loved.
“We make a pretty great team, huh?”
You leaned back into the cushions, your hand slipping from behind his ears to run through the soft fur along his back. Each stroke seemed to soothe not just him, but you as well.
“You’re amazing, you know that?” you murmured after a moment, your voice quieter now.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
Mingi shifted slightly, resting his head against your chest as his eyes fluttered shut, lulled by the rhythm of your heartbeat. Accepting this new form hadn’t been easy; it challenged everything he thought he knew about himself.
But moments like this, with your hand threading gently through his fur and your voice brimming with affection, chipped away at his doubts. The walls he had so carefully constructed around his heart crumbled, leaving him exposed to a truth he could no longer deny: the feelings growing within him, his feelings for you.
Mingi surrendered to the quiet realization that he no longer wanted to run from you or from the parts of himself he couldn’t face. You had shown him something he thought he’d lost; a capacity for care, compassion, and even love.
And he wanted to show you that could become something more.
But his peace was short-lived as your phone blared to life, interrupting his nap. Jiwoo’s name lit up the screen, and with a tired sigh, you swiped to answer, already bracing yourself for her shenanigans.
That annoying woman!
“Y/N!” Jiwoo’s voice was bright and full of excitement. “I’ve found it. The place. It’s in Prague, and it’s everything you’ve been looking for—charming, historic, and in a perfect location!”
“Prague is a little far, don’t you think?”
“Exactly!” Jiwoo exclaimed, as if you’d just proved her point. “Far enough to get away from all these assholes!”
You chuckled softly, your fingers absentmindedly carding through Maro’s fur. He stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh as he snuggled deeper against your chest. Jiwoo’s energy was infectious, even when you weren’t entirely on board with her ideas.
“Speaking of assholes,” she said, her tone dropping, “have you heard about Ahri?”
Your stomach dropped at the mention of her name. “What about her?”
“So,” she started, drawing out the word, “Sara saw her the other night at The Z. And she wasn’t alone. She was looking way too cozy with that model guy. What’s his name? Mingyu or something. It’s kind of creepy that he and Mingi have similar sounding names.”
Mingi’s relationship with Ahri had always been a sore spot, a constant reminder that you had no place in his life. But hearing this made you feel something you couldn’t quite place—vindicated? Sad? Angry? Maybe all three.
“And get this—when Sara asked her about Mingi, she brushed it off. Like she wasn’t walking around a few weeks ago looking pretty banged up herself. I mean, can you believe it? While he’s in a coma?”
“Their relationship doesn’t concern me,” you replied, but your words felt hollow.
“Not your business?” Jiwoo scoffed. “It’s disgusting, Y/N. I know you and Mingi have a complicated relationship–I get it. but he doesn’t deserve that. No one does. She’s out here living her best life while he’s fighting for his.”
Her outrage echoed your own feelings, but instead of comfort, it only heightened the discomfort twisting in your chest. Each mention of Ahri reminded you that this moment, where you were pouring your heart into caring for him, staying by his side when no one else would, was nothing more than a spell cast by some higher being.
Once the spell was broken, you'd return to your separate lives despite being bound to one another.
“Anyway,” Jiwoo said, sensing your silence, “that’s just more reason to take the leap. Leave all this drama behind and protect your peace. Start over. You might actually find love too!”
You let out a dry laugh, though it wasn’t the least bit genuine. “Yeah, right. Love.”
The words tasted bitter on your tongue, and the thought of it, of someone loving you in the way you needed, in the way you’d always hoped felt almost impossible.
“I mean, if Czech men aren’t your thing, I know Park Seong—”
“My food’s here, bye!” you blurted out abruptly, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence.
You rested your head back against the couch and closed your eyes for a moment, shifting Maro against you, his small body fitting so easily into the curve of your side.
Who needs husbands when you have a dog? You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maro, with his unwavering loyalty and comforting little form, was all you needed right now. He didn’t ask anything of you—just your love and care in return. A love that came without expectations, without demands for answers or explanations.
With him, you could simply be.
Outside the towering penthouse, a figure lingered in the shadows, her frail frame swallowed by a dark jacket. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, knuckles stark white, and her shoulders trembled with each shallow, uneven breath. Then, without a sound, she slipped into the darkness, leaving no trace behind.
But the chill that lingered in the air suggested she wouldn’t be gone for long.
<< iii | v >>
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More Posts from Beabatiny and Others
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
𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢'𝚜 𝚂𝚎𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎! 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚎 "𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜"
𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙺𝚘𝚒 (𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑) | 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢/𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖 | 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎
𝙽𝚘 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜
𝙽𝚘 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜
𝙽𝚘 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚗 Divider by @fairytopea
𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.
𓆉 𝙰𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗) 𓆉 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣) 𓆉 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 (𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)
🐟 k - kids by current joys
🐟 o - odd reasons by donovan melero
🐟 i - it’s you by ateez
I can’t recommend much music, but hey it’s something
MOOT / TAG GAME !
mission— spell your real name / name you use on tumblr with songs you like >< ready, set, go !
m — my love, mine all mine (mitski)
i — i love you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)
c — coraline (lyn lapid)
k — killshot (magdalena bay)
i — i know you (faye webster)
e — either way (ive)
tagging— @puma-riki @flwrstqr @liwinly @woniefication @lilificationn @stvrriki @okwonyo + anyone else who wants to join !
I’m in love with this series so far and i’m enjoying the slow relationship of hongjoong & reader though I am curious if whoever jumped hongjoong would see him with reader and go after them
Keep up the great work! I always love reading your works <3
When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 4]
![When Flowers Bloom In The Dark [Chapter 4]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/95fcc62ed7ddcbf4e3345dc01a3d7469/f7468cec3c19b67a-6c/s500x750/9a4f75d0b448efdf7f0ce9f72104e4a171d66071.png)
Genre: Romance, Mafia!AU, Violence, Angst, Slow burn
Pairing: Hongjoong x Reader (y/n)
Characters: Florist!Reader, Mafioso!Hongjoong, Mafioso!Seonghwa, Mafioso!Yunho, Mafioso!Yeosang, Mafioso!San, Mafioso!Mingi, Mafioso!Wooyoung, Mafioso!Jongho
Summary: When you appeared and wept at his mother's funeral, Hongjoong found himself wanting to find out more about you. A regular girl, who owns a flower shop in his territory and has a relationship with the mother that he hasn't spoken to in years, why hasn't he ever noticed you before?
[Warning(s): 18+ for violence, use of weapons, smoking, alcohol consumption, slight gore, gang affiliation, tattoos and character deaths. Minors DNI. This is a work of fiction and does not represent the Ateez members in real life.]
Word count: 3.3K
Chapter warning(s): Character is injured, mentions of bruises, cuts, broken ribs and possibly other injuries.
"Hongjoong sshi?!" You gasped at the slumped figure that was leaning against the wall. Shining the torch on him, he squinted, he was covered in bruises and definitely bleeding somewhere.
"Hide me..." He breathed out, clutching onto his side as his face scrunched up in pain. You put your phone aside and went over to help him. You bent down, slipping his arm over your shoulder, helping him stand up. He winced as he stood up.
"Sorry!" You panicked, helping him into your store and closing the backdoor. As carefully as you could, you set him on the ground.
"Should I call an ambulance? Or the police?" You took your phone out but Hongjoong placed his hand over your phone, covering the screen before you could dial.
"No hospital, no police." He groaned.
"What? Are you crazy?! You're injured." You screeched. Hongjoong grasped your hand.
"Calm down... Take a breath... I'm not dying..." He assured. He was the one injured and yet, he had to calm you down as if you were the one that was bleeding.
"Okay. Tell me what I should do." You said shakily.
"Do you know how to treat wounds?" He asked. You nodded your head and decided to move him to the 'office' room.
"Wait here. Let me go get the first aid kit." You helped him lay on the couch you had left there before going to get stuff that you could use. You were not a medical professional but you did know basic wound care. Plus, injuries can always happen in the shop so you try to be as prepared as possible.
"Earlier you asked me to 'hide you'. Are you in danger by being here? Should I move you?" You came back, setting everything down.
"They should be long gone by now... Don't worry, you're not in danger." Hongjoong grunted. You felt your cheeks heat up, he knew what you were thinking about.
"We can talk later, let me fix you up." You began to clean the open cuts and put ointment on the bruises.
"Oww." He hissed when you dabbed the disinfectant over the cut on his eyebrow.
"Sorry." You squeaked and tried to be gentler, if that was even possible. After that, you placed a band aid over it. Once all the visible injuries were looked after, you stared at his shirt.
"C-Could you..." You wanted to hide, you couldn't even ask him to remove his shirt. Hongjoong smirked at your expression and removed his shirt.
"It's just a slash, I wasn't stabbed." He said when you were staring at the bleeding cut right at his ribs. That was the first thing you treated first. Hongjoong felt you look back at him for his expression with each dab of the cotton ball against the cut.
"Your salve works really well, by the way." He cleared his throat, lifting his injured hand up. You stopped, tilting your head in confusion before turning to look at his hand.
"Oh! I forgot about that. I'm glad it could help." You smiled when you remembered treating his hand for him.
"Do you get injured often?" You asked softly, seeing some old scars across his body.
"It's part of the job." He replied honestly. You nodded with a soft hum and quietly continued. You taped a gauze over the place where he was slashed.
"I don't know if you broke your ribs. But until you check them out, I'll tape them in place." Taking some sports tape, you skillfully tape Hongjoong's ribs. Hopefully, he goes to an actual doctor soon.
"I doubt they're badly broken." Hongjoong said with experience.
"All done. I don't think I missed anything." You stepped back with a soft sigh. While Hongjoong put his shirt back on, you were returning your things to their respective places. You grabbed some paracetamol tablets and a towel, wetting it in the bathroom sink, before going back to Hongjoong.
"Here, it's just paracetamol. I don't have anything stronger." You placed the pills in his hand and opened a new bottle of water for him.
"It's enough, thanks." Hongjoong sat up slightly and downed the pills. After he laid back down, you surprised him by reaching out to wipe his face with a wet cloth.
"Sorry! You can wipe it yourself if you'd like. I just thought you might be more comfortable." You stuttered.
"No, you can do it. I was just surprised." He closed his eyes, feeling you continue to wipe the sweat and grime off his face.
"Are you hungry? I can order dinner." You asked.
"(y/n) sshi, you don't have to stay here with me. I'm grateful for what you have done but you can go home. You've probably been busy working the whole day." He told you.
"It's okay, I usually stay late anyway. I've even stayed over a few times before. No big deal." You shrugged.
"Alright but if you want to go home, tell me and I'll leave. I understand that I can't stay because you have to lock up." Hongjoong said. You nodded obediently and took your phone, the both of you scrolling to see what food options there were.
Of course you wouldn't tell Hongjoong to leave. Yes, you barely knew him but he was gravely injured, you weren't ruthless enough to send him away while he was down.
"You should rest until the food comes." You said, taking the small throw blanket and draping it over him.
"What about you?" He blinked.
"I'll go get some work done, clean up a little." You smiled a little and stood up to leave the room, giving him some privacy. You took the time to tend to your plants and check on them.
"Hello? Delivery!" Someone called from the back. You put the broom down and went to open the door for the deliveryman.
"Have a nice evening." The deliveryman bowed. You bowed back to convey your thanks.
"Hongjoo- Woah." You stepped back in shock. When you opened the door, you were not expecting to see him standing there, pressed against the wall. His hand was resting on the waistband of his pants. Was he hiding a weapon? You hadn't even noticed it when you helped him into your shop.
"Just wanted to make sure it wasn't someone else." He said. You nodded stiffly and he stepped aside for you to put the food down on the desk so you could help him back to the couch.
"Let me get the foldable table." You went to the cupboard to get out the small plastic table.
"You really have everything you need here. It's like a house." He chuckled with slight amusement.
"Like I said, I've stayed over before." You giggled and went to get the food. When you came back, Hongjoong had shed his blazer and resting beside him was a knife in a sleeve.
"Sorry." Hongjoong must have sensed your discomfort because he put the knife into the inner pocket of his blazer to hide it.
"Thanks... Here." You handed him chopsticks. You sat on the carpet and Hongjoong slowly moved to sit beside you on the ground as well to eat. After looking through all the restaurants, you both decided to order rose tteokbokki and some fried food.
"Can you reach it?" You pushed the food closer to him so he wouldn't have to reach out too much to get it.
"I'm good." Hongjoong nodded and held his side as he reached to pick up a piece of rice cake. The two of you ate in silence, your mind was racing with too many thoughts now.
"Hongjoong sshi, if you don't mind me asking... Why did you not call your friends? And until now, you still haven't call them." You asked.
"Not worth it for them to go through the trouble. Plus, they'll just nag at me." He replied with a shrug.
"But wouldn't they be worried about you?"
"Maybe... You know what, they probably will worry a lot but it's fine. It's not like I'm running away, they'll see me tomorrow when I return home." He explained. You nodded your head slowly.
"What about your family? They're fine with you staying here overnight?" He asked back.
"Oh... I don't have anyone... I'm on my own so no one to answer to when I don't go home." You replied awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck. Hongjoong mentally cursed, if he had properly read the file that he found about you, he would have known that you didn't have a family.
"B-But it's okay! I'm fine and happy on my own. It's been like that for my whole life so I'm used to it." You quickly added, worried that he would feel guilty for asking.
"I know how you feel, I was on my own for so long as well before I met my brothers." He smiled softly.
"Oh, you're brothers?" Your eyes widened.
"Chosen family, as people call it. A bunch of people that couldn't fit into society came together to form our own family. Sounds a lot like a comic book or movie, right?" He laughed.
"Yes but it's sweet that you all found people that you could rely on." You giggled with a smile.
"I'm grateful for them." He agreed with a nod.
"You know, Mrs Kim used to talk about you all the time and it always made me wonder what it would be like to meet you." You said without a though. But judging from the way Hongjoong stiffened and how the comfortable smile on his face disappeared, you knew...
"Hongjoong sshi! I'm sorry, I just... I always speak without thinking. I'm sorry." You panicked. Hongjoong clenched his jaw before taking a deep breath.
"It's fine. I'm full." He stated, putting his chopsticks down. Now you didn't have an appetite too, why did you screw things up?
"I'm sorry, I-"
"I already said it's fine, (y/n)." Hongjoong hissed, dropping the formality. You pursed your lips, chewing the inside of your cheek like a child that just got reprimanded.
"I'll just clear up and you can rest here." You gathered all the trash before Hongjoong could say anything.
"If you need anything, I'll be outside." You quickly said and scurried out of there.
"Great job, you chased her out of her own place." Hongjoong grumbled, scolding himself as he slumped against the couch. He slowly grabbed the foldable table and put it back for you. After sitting there for a bit, Hongjoong grabbed his phone and sent a text out to one of the Ateez members.
"(y/n), you idiot." You slapped your forehead. You threw the trash outside and washed your hands in the small bathroom.
While there was no soap for you to shower or fresh clothes for you to change into, you grabbed a small towel and wiped yourself down to feel a little fresher.
"Ah, I'm so tired." You sighed, falling back into the chair behind the counter. There wasn't much for you to do here but you were listless so you went to your botany table and grabbed your botany book.
"(y/n) sshi?" Hongjoong opened the door and poked his head out when he saw you fast asleep.
"Mmmh..." You stirred, burying your face further into your folded arms to get comfortable. You laid on your open book.
"Hyung, I'm he-"
"Shhhh." Hongjoong hushed the taller, who blinked back in surprised.
"Geez, hyung. You look terrible. You sure you don't me to call our doctor?" Yunho winced, seeing that disheveled state the captian was in. Hongjoong rolled his eyes.
"That's what happens when you get jumped. Anyway I'm sure I don't need a doctor, Yunho. I should wake her up and send her home. This is no place to sleep." Hongjoong turned to look back at where you were. Yunho craned his neck to see you sleeping at the counter.
"Up to you. By the way, I need your keys, I brought one of our men to drive your car home. You're in no shape to drive." Yunho said.
"Fine. Wait here." Hongjoong put his car keys in Yunho's hand and walked back to the shop. For a few seconds, he stood there, how was he supposed to wake you?
"(y/n) sshi...?" He shook your gently, not wanting to scare you too much. It took a while for your eyes to open and you flinched.
"Oh my!" You jumped, realising that you had fallen asleep.
"Sorry to scare you, my transport is here. But let me drop you home first. It's the least I could do after all that you've done for me tonight." Hongjoong informed.
"I didn't even know I fell asleep... You don't have to, Hongjoong sshi. You're injured, you should get home and rest." You yawned.
"I want to. And it'll make me feel better knowing you got home safely." He smiled.
"Alright, if you're sure..." You stood up. Hongjoong stepped aside to give you space while you cleared up and grabbed your things. He waited at the back door, talking to Yunho. You tried to be fast, you didn't want to make him and whoever was with him wait too long for you since it was so late.
"Oh, hello." You stopped and bowed deeply to Yunho. You remember seeing him at the funeral, he was close with Hongjoong, one of his 'brothers'. He was very tall and good looking.
"(y/n) sshi, right? Nice to meet you, I'm Yunho." He smiled. Even you were blown away by how handsome he was when he smiled.
"Thank you for taking care of our leader here." Yunho snickered while Hongjoong glared daggers into Yunho's head.
"It's no worry at all." You replied softly. The two waited for you to properly lock up before Yunho led the two of you to the car. He did try to support Hongjoong.
"Stop that." Hongjoong slapped Yunho's arms away, preferring to walk on his own.
"Let me help, hyung~" Yunho said. Hongjoong flipped him off and continued limping. You smiled, watching them from the back.
"Hyung, that's very uncouth behaviour, especially in front of a lady." Yunho teased, opening the door to the G-Wagon for you while Hongjoong went to the other side to get into the car himself. He held his hand out to you to help you up.
"Thank you." You cleared your throat shyly as you got into the back seat. Hongjoong groaned in pain as he hoisted his body up and into the back seat, leaning against the back.
"You just had to take the G Wagon." He hissed.
"Well, if you had told me that you were this injured, I wouldn't have taken it then." Yunho said as he closed the driver's door.
"(y/n) sshi, may I have your address please?" He turned back to you. You nodded and sat forward, reciting your address to him to put into his GPS system.
"Thanks. We're good to go." Yunho said and you sat back in your seat, fastening your seatbelt.
As Yunho drove, you looked out the window, still feeling a lingering sleepiness from earlier. It was rather late at night.
"You can sleep if you'd like." Hongjoong said, not looking up from his phone. He had been fixed on the device, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face in the dark vehicle.
"I-I'm good. Thanks." You cleared your throat, focusing on the city lights outside. It didn't take long for Yunho to pull up to your apartment building. You were grateful you didn't fall back asleep. Yunho would have reached faster but he knew Hongjoong would kill him if he sped while you were in the car.
"Yunho, walk her up." Hongjoong said, not looking up from his phone as he was texting someone.
"Yes, sir." Yunho was out of the car before you could protest. He opened the door for you, holding his hand out again to help you out of the vehicle.
"I'm fine walking up on my own." You forced a smile.
"It's okay." Yunho smiled.
"Bye, Hongjoong sshi. Goodnight." You turned back to bow to the injured male. Yunho accidentally closed the door behind you before Hongjoong could properly reply you.
"Let's go." Yunho nodded over to the door. You walked with him trailing beside you.
"So, have you had your flower shop for long?" Yunho asked as you both stepped into the lift.
"Not that long... I've always been interested in plants and botany. But I don't think being a botanist would have brought me a stable income right away so I opened up my flower shop. I just study botany on the side." You shrugged.
"Ah, that's very practical of you. But botany does sound interesting. Do you make special potions to poison people?" He asked. You couldn't help but laugh.
"Yes, I make natural poison darts in my free time." You joked, making Yunho laugh along.
"This is me." You stopped before the door, fishing your keys out to unlock it.
"Thanks again for sending me back and walking me up, Yunho sshi. It's so late, you must be tired." You smiled and bowed. Yunho shook his head.
"It's fine. No need to thank me. I should thank you again for helping Hongjoong hyung." He repeated.
"It was no big deal, really. Oh! Also, could you help me return this to him? I said something out of turn and made him angry. I think he's probably still upset with me." You rubbed the back of your neck.
"Whatever it is, I don't think he's angry with you. But I will return this to him." Yunho tucked the silk handkerchief into his pocket.
"If you say so. Goodnight, Yunho sshi. Get home safe. And if Hongjoong sshi's injuries get worse, please bring him to a doctor." You said with a worried frown on your face. Yunho nodded and saluted obediently. He watched you enter your house before leaving and going back downstairs.
"Yah! You closed the door before I could say bye to her. Now she's going to think I'm stuck up or something." Hongjoong scolded him the moment he entered.
"Nope, not stuck up. She thinks you're mad at her." Yunho laughed, closing the door and starting the engine.
"Mad at her?" Hongjoong blinked.
"Yeah apparently she said something to you that made you mad. She couldn't even return this to you, thinking you're still angry." He turned around and handed Hongjoong his handkerchief.
"Oh... I wasn't angry..." Hongjoong said, looking down at the silk handkerchief, his thumb running across the silky material.
"That's what I said. The last time you were actually angry with someone, they ended up with a bullet between their eyes." Yunho snickered.
"YOU TOLD HER THAT?" Hongjoong screeched.
"Of course not. I couldn't have her fainting from shock. Although I'm sure seeing you beaten up like that is enough to traumatise her for a bit." Yunho raised his eyebrows. Hongjoong let out a long sigh as Yunho the drive back to their home.
"You didn't tell Seonghwa about what happened yet, right?" Hongjoong asked.
"Nope. Seonghwa hyung came back from his race and went straight to bed. Didn't even know I left, I think. But hyung, you can't hide your injuries from Seonghwa hyung and the rest." Yunho stated.
"I know. The main thing is to discuss those that were involved in my attack. No one dares to jump me." Hongjoong growled.
"Exactly. Whoever it is... They either don't know Ateez or they're trying to start a war. Although I seriously think they're trying to start a war." Yunho sighed.
"Well, if it's a war they want, it's a war they'll get." The captain declared.
~
Series masterlist
𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦! 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 2 seater - @mingi-s-dimples yungi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ateez After A Concert - @mingwrites ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓆞 Ateez reacting to Jongho being a “grown man” - @atinydise ot8 x reader (reactions) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Texts When You Went To Another Idol's Concert - @jjoongstar ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Between Two Hearts - @call-of-daydreams bf!sugar daddy!jongho x reader x bf!sugar daddy!mingi (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸
𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [ 02.18 ] - @yizhou-time prince!hongjoong x princess!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 12:30 - @atinyslittleworld idol!hongjoong x reader (timestamp) 𓆞 𓆞 After Hours - @jjoongstar bf!hongjoong x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Back Off, I'm Married! - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!hongjoong x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Both Pretty - @skzdust bf!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Day Of Sunshine - @mybelovedwoo non-idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Away With The Wind - @seongwars dragon rider!seonghwa x ex-dragon rider!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Biggest Flex - @daceydeath mafia!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Bite Me [Part One] [Part Two] - @atzloverr bf!vampire!seonghwa x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cravings - @dancinglikebutterflywings husband!seonghwa x pregnant!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 3:11 pm - @twilightzoneletters bf!yunho x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 A Curve Ball From The Past - @kpopcafeeee baseball star!dad!yunho x mom!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 All Of The Girls You Loved Before - @evandsolo bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Bookshop And Bourbon - @ja3hwa mafia!yunho x librarian!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Crave Me - @mingi-s-dimples bf!ceo!yunho x gf!model!reader (one-shot) 𓆞
𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Lot Like Love - @melodyanqe1 prince!yeosang x florist!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Warm Heart - @jjoongstar statue!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Cubicles - @/aflairforthejaz non-idol!yeosang x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Cured - @acupoftaewithsomesuga doctor!yeosang x nurse!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Divination - @daemour crown prince!yeosang x maid!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [3:00 PM] - @edenesth dad!san x mom!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 23:11 - @iannmin idol!san x idol!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 3:32 am - @/iannmin idol!san x idol!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Smile From Me To You - @yourlocaljonghoe bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 By My Side - @iannmin non-idol!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 00:00 - @iannmin newlywed!mingi x pregnant!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 B.A.S - @desirehorizon non-idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Brother - @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf best friend's brother!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Dirty Little Secret | Our Dirty Little Secret - @xosannie sex worker!mingi x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Everything I Could Ever Wish For! - @makeitmingi dad!idol!mingi x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 4:15pm - @daceydeath idol!wooyoung x reader (timestamp) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Best Friend's Girl - @dancinglikebutterflywings best friend!wooyoung x reader ft.san (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Celebratory Fuck - @wooyoungmybelovedhusband baseball player!wooyoung x cheerleader!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Change Up - @skrrts non-idol!wooyoung x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Colours Of You - @ae-cow non-idol!wooyoung x optometrists!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 12:31 am - @minghaoslatina idol!jongho x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Far Away - @melodyanqel dad!huband!idol!jongho x mom!non-idol!wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Jongho is jealous and Wooyoung is the cause because of course he is - @redzie02 bf!jongho x gn!reader ft. wooyoung (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 In My Head - @callmeagardengnome idol!jongho x music producer!bartender!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Phone Call - @sweetiesicheng bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸
i’m gonna crash out we need to end dann and mike i’m serious i’m going to throw a car at them or something, reader, hongjoong, get behind me
I’m not ready for the next chapter i can’t i need reader to be happy and i need them to be with hongjoong oh I’m sick
great chapter, I can’t wait for the next one <3
Popular, Boy
☆07: The first breakdown
Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader
Genre: +18, smut, angst, drama, dark academic, love triangle
wc: 9,8k
Summary: Humillation and disappointment from others always leave you more isolated than ever. The tension grows and unresolved emotions linger.
But unexpected plans could change everything in your little world.
Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, manipulation, just Mike being a bastard.
Note: This chapter has important info that will develop in the next chapter, just want to say that next chapter is more spicy than aespa's song!!!
Series masterlist
☆06 ☆08: The first lie
The grandeur of the Clarke Mansion is still evident in the moments before they leave. The staff bustle around, making sure every detail is in place, as you, your family, and Dann prepare to depart for the lavish event at the Ritz.
The golden light of the chandelier in the hallway spills out into the driveway as the sleek black cars pull up, their engines purring softly in the night air. The elegance of the mansion stands in stark contrast to the wild, pulsing energy of the celebration awaiting them—a night meant to showcase Mike’s latest achievement.
You walk down the grand staircase, a vision in your red dress. As you descend, every step is deliberate, measured, meant to captivate.
Your parents, who were already waiting near the entrance, can’t help but pause in admiration at the sight of their daughter.
But you are too preoccupied with the swirling thoughts in your head to fully bask in their praise. Your brother's harsh words still echo in your ears, but you've done everything you can to mask the weight of them.
Tonight, you need to be untouchable.
Your father approaches you, voice full of pride.
“You look stunning, darling. No one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”
“And you better make sure they don’t, sweetie.” Your mother in an elegant black dress says brushing a strand of your hair.
You force a smile, though your gaze flicks to Mike standing near the door. You know he’s already prepared for what he perceives as your inevitable fall tonight.
But you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.
“Maybe you should focus on not embarrassing yourself, YN. There’s no room for mistakes tonight.” He smirks.
You feel your pulse quicken, the familiar sting of his condescending tone cutting through you like a knife. But you don't respond. Not tonight. you've already made up your mind—you will be perfect, no matter what he says.
Dann, standing quietly in the background, watches everything unfold with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She can feel the heat radiating off you, and for the first time, she’s not sure if she envies you or resents you.
Still, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to get swept up in the endless cycle of praise and punishment that seems to define your world. As the last person to make their way out the door, Dann glances at her mother, who gives her a sweet smile, waving her goodbye.
When the cars finally pull up to the Ritz, the atmosphere shifts entirely. The event is already in full swing, lights glittering, the hum of conversation and laughter spilling out into the cool night air. The building itself looks like a monument to luxury—tall, majestic, with every surface reflecting the opulence that the Clarke family holds dear.
Inside the car, your family sits in quiet anticipation. Your parents speak in hushed tones, planning their approach to tonight’s gathering, while Mike remains distant, his eyes fixed on the glowing windows of the Ritz.
As the car doors open, the flood of sounds from the celebration pours in—cascading music, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of life beyond the door.
You step out first, followed by Mike, parents, and Dann. They make their way up the steps to the grand entrance, where the doormen usher them in with professional smiles. Inside, everything is extravagant—gleaming chandeliers, velvet drapes, and golden accents everywhere.
It feels like a different world entirely.
You adjust your posture, and for a moment, you feel the weight of all eyes on you. This is your world, a place where you can thrive, even with Mike’s shadow looming over you.
As you step into the grand ballroom, the scent of roses and expensive perfume mixes with the faint aroma of hors d'oeuvres being passed around on silver trays.
The room is alive with conversation and laughter, the hum of wealth and power weaving through the air. You’re used to this—this is where you belong, where you’ve always shone. You adjust your dress, a subtle yet powerful statement of the season’s trends, and scan the room.
Your friends spot you almost immediately, their polished appearances as perfect as always. They weave through the crowd with ease, their heels clicking against the marble floor as they make their way toward you.
“Babe!” Mindy exclaims, her eyes sparkling “You look stunning, as always.”
“Of course she does,” Samantha chimes in with a sly grin “What else is new?”
You smile, a perfect blend of warmth and confidence “It’s all about keeping up appearances, isn’t it?”
Mindy’s gaze shifts past you, her brows arching in curiosity “Wait a second… Is that Dann?”
All turn, spotting Dann lingering awkwardly near one of the side tables. She’s holding a glass of sparkling water like it’s a lifeline, her lavender gown catching the light in a way that draws just enough attention.
“Oh my God, it is her. What’s she doing here?”
You shrug with a practiced air of indifference “Mother invited her. You know how she gets—always so kind and generous. She thought it would be nice to show some appreciation for Dann helping around the house.”
Mindy’s lips press into a thin line, and the others barely hide a snicker “Kind of her,” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm “But seriously, babygirl, what were you thinking, letting her wear a dress from a collection from years ago? She looks ridiculous.”
You feign innocence, a soft laugh escaping your lips “Who am I to deny her a chance to feel special?”
Sam smirks “You’re a saint, baby. Truly. She really sticks out, doesn’t she? Like she doesn’t belong here.”
“That’s not my problem,” You reply smoothly, brushing off the comment with a flick of your hair “Mother wanted her here, and I’m doing my part. Whether or not she fits in is up to her.”
You glance across the room, your eyes narrowing as they settle on Seonghwa. He’s standing with his family, dressed impeccably as always, his confident smile lighting up the space around him.
For a brief moment, your polished demeanor falters. There’s a lot unsaid between the two of you—more than anyone in this room could ever guess.
After Wooyoung’s last party you haven't talked.
“Shall we mingle?” Someone asks, breaking your train of thought.
“Of course,” You reply, slipping your arm through Mindy’s “Let’s remind everyone who really runs this town.”
As you move through the crowd, your presence commanding attention as always, you can feel the weight of the evening settling in.
Tonight isn’t just about appearances—it’s about control, power, and making sure everyone, including Mike and Dann, knows exactly where they stand.
✮ ⋆
As the evening progresses, the hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, but Dann lingers near the edges of the room, keeping to herself. Her glass of sparkling water trembles slightly in her hand as she tries to blend into the background.
The soft lavender gown you gave her feels alien on her body, and she’s keenly aware of every glance sent her way.
What she doesn’t realize is that many of those glances are judgmental, the dress silently announcing her as out of place.
It doesn’t take long for Mindy and the other girls to leave you with your parents and notice Dann standing awkwardly by the refreshments table. They exchange a quick look, their eyes gleaming with amusement, and saunter over, their movements purposeful and predatory.
“Dann? Oh my god, hi.” Mindy says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.
Dann startles slightly but nods, trying to smile “Um, hi.”
Samantha tilts her head, feigning curiosity “That’s such a… unique dress you’re wearing. Where did you find it? A vintage shop?”
Dann’s cheeks burn, but she forces herself to meet their gaze.
“Actually, YN gave it to me. She thought it would be appropriate for tonight.”
Their smiles widen, eyes sparkling with malicious delight.
“Oh, our babygirl always so generous. Did YN let you borrow it from her last season’s wardrobe? Or was she just trying to make you look like a charity case?"
"I mean, you must feel so lucky to be here with all these important people in such a... dated dress."
“Very retro, not something anyone else here could pull off, but good for you for trying.”
Dann’s grip tightens around her glass, her stomach twisting. She knows they’re mocking her, but she refuses to let them see her falter.
“Thank you,” She says evenly “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Mindy arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the response, but Sam isn’t done yet.
“It’s just so sweet of YN to give you something she wouldn’t wear anymore. Such a generous friend, don’t you think?”
Before Dann can respond, Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade.
“Ladies, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”
He appears at Dann’s side, his presence commanding, and tone light but with an edge that makes your friends instantly fall silent.
“Hwa,” Mindy says with a wide smile “We were just admiring YN’s generosity in lending Dann one of her dresses. So thoughtful of her.”
Seonghwa’s lips curve into a polite but icy smile “Of course,” He turns to Dann, his expression unreadable “Are you enjoying yourself?”
Dann hesitates, but nods “Yes, thank you.”
“Good.” His eyes flick to your friends, his smile never wavering “If you’ll excuse us, I promised to introduce Dann to some of my friends.”
All the girls exchange glances but step aside.
“Sure, have fun.”
Seonghwa grabs Dann’s arm and leads her away, his steps measured and graceful. Once they’re out of earshot, he leans in slightly, his voice low enough that only Dann can hear.
“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just bored.”
Dann glances at him, unsure whether to trust the sudden kindness.
“Thanks, I guess.”
Once they’re seated with a drink in hand, Hwa turns to Dann, his expression serious.
"So, how’s everything going with Mike? What’s the plan for tonight?"
Dann glances around nervously, making sure no one is listening.
"Mike told me to tell Hongjoong a fake address so that he wouldn’t come tonight... he wanted YN to be left alone, humiliated. He said he was going to make sure she felt small in front of everyone during his speech."
Seonghwa nods, pleased with the progress of the plan, but there’s a certain coldness in his smile.
"And you’re sure he’ll follow through? Mike doesn’t usually miss a chance to put YN in her place."
Dann sighs, her hands trembling slightly as she grips her glass.
"I don’t know if I can keep doing this... but he’s promised that tonight, it’ll all come together. YN will feel what it’s like to be cast aside."
Seonghwa watches her for a moment, assessing, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own drink.
"Good. Just remember, if you want to be part of this, you have to follow through. All of us are in this together now."
Dann nods, but the weight of her actions starts to sink in. She knows she’s in too deep to back out now, and yet the guilt gnaws at her.
As Seonghwa continues to chat with her about their plans, she can’t shake the uneasy feeling that the lines between revenge and her own humanity are beginning to blur.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Hongjoong adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, his expression thoughtful as he glanced at his reflection. The evening was meant to be a special one—an elegant celebration at the Ritz, an event where he would finally step into the world you navigate so effortlessly.
But something didn’t feel right. Why did your family decide to change the venue so suddenly?
Confused but trusting, Hongjoong went along with the information, believing it was just a miscommunication. He got ready, dressed in the suit you bought him, ready to experience a world beyond his usual scope.
But as he drove, the city fell behind him, the roads winding into quiet, unfamiliar countryside. There was no Ritz, just a few ordinary homes and farmland stretching into the distance.
Panic started to settle in his chest as his phone buzzed, showing no signal. He tried calling you, Dann, and even Wooyoung, but no calls went through.
The further he drove, the more he realized Dann had played a cruel trick—luring him away, leaving him isolated and alone.
Anger surged through him as he realized the intent. Dann had deliberately ensured he wouldn’t make it to the party, making you feel abandoned, unsure, and hurt.
His fists clenched around the steering wheel, frustration boiling to the surface. He needed to get to you, to make sure you knew it wasn’t his choice to stay away.
Desperate, he took a U-turn, his tires screeching slightly on the gravel as he headed back toward the city.
The night was dark, and the streets were eerily quiet as he raced toward the first address you had given him.
✮ ⋆
The party was in full swing, and you had slipped into your role effortlessly. Your laughter echoed through the room as you sipped champagne, your friends and guests hanging on your every word.
Mindy, Sam, Wooyoung, and a few others surrounded you, chatting about the latest gossip in the city, and the music played softly in the background, setting a festive mood.
You looked around the grand ballroom, admiring the luxurious décor, the chandeliers that sparkled overhead, and the gentle hum of conversation filling the air.
It was everything you had grown accustomed to—the perfect night of glamour, elegance, and being the center of attention.
But as the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. It was as though something was missing, and that something was Hongjoong.
You glance at your phone again, noting that the time is slipping away, and Hongjoong still hasn't arrived. The champagne, which had initially made you feel warm and confident, now seemed to weigh on you, making you restless.
“Where is little Hongjoong, babydoll?” Wooyoung asks you.
“Don't know, he should be here by now.”
“Maybe he doesn't know how to get here.”
“Maybe, let me call him.” You excused yourself from the group and wandered toward a quieter corner.
Your heels click softly on the marble floor. You unlock your phone and send a quick text to Joong.
YN♡: Joong, are you coming? It’s getting late.
You bite your lip, anxiously staring at the screen, waiting for a reply. But the familiar bubble showing that he is typing never appeared.
Frowning, you call him next, holding the phone to your ear as the ringing tone echoed in your eardrum. But when the call goes straight to voicemail, your anxiety deepens.
Where is he?
You make sure to include him in this world you live in, and now, you are starting to doubt if he’d actually show up.
There had been no signs of trouble earlier, but now the silence from Hongjoong’s end is unsettling.
You pace slowly, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it's hard to ignore the tightness in your chest. You know you shouldn’t be worried—he might be caught up in traffic, or maybe something had come up—but deep down, a quiet voice is telling you it isn't that simple.
You text him again, hoping for any kind of response.
YN♡: Kim Hongjoong. Where are you?
Nothing.
The seconds stretch into what feels like minutes, and your stomach twists. You don’t like this feeling.
You don’t like being uncertain.
You don’t like being let down.
You return to the party but find yourself unable to focus on the conversations around you. Your gaze flickers back to your phone as the minutes tick by. Your thoughts keep drifting back to Hongjoong.
What is keeping him? Is he really on his way? Or has something happened?
You take a long sip of your champagne, trying to shake the unease, but it lingers.
You just wanted him here, wanted to be with him.
You force yourself to rejoin the party, plastering on a faint smile as you move through the crowd. Mindy and Wooyoung are still chatting nearby, but their laughter feels muffled, distant.
The sparkle of the chandeliers seems dimmer now, the glamour of the evening dulled by the absence of the one person you were hoping to share it with.
“Sweetie, there you are,” Your mother’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. “Mike’s about to give his speech. Come, stand near the front.”
You nod, following her to the center of the ballroom, where Mike is standing on a small stage. The guests quiet down as he takes the microphone, his charismatic smile commanding attention.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” He begins, his voice smooth and confident “First, thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to me to celebrate this milestone with my family and our closest friends. As most of you know, I’ve recently been entrusted with a significant position in our family business, and I am honored to take on this responsibility.”
The crowd applauds, a few cheers breaking out. Mike raises a hand, his grin widening.
“I want to take a moment to express my gratitude for the opportunity to step into this role and carry the legacy of the Clarke family forward. My parents have worked tirelessly to get me here, and I will do everything in my power to uphold the values of this company. It’s an honor to follow in the footsteps of my father and grandfather.”
A round of applause erupted, and you force a smile, applauding with the crowd, even though a sense of dread fills your chest.
You can already feel where this is going.
“But before I move forward,” He continues, his voice gaining an edge of sarcasm “I have to acknowledge someone who’s always been there for me, even if she doesn’t always realize how much of a burden she’s been.”
His eyes flick to you, and for a moment, the entire room seems to pause.
Your heart skips a beat. You try to keep your composure, but there is an unsettling feeling settling deep in your stomach.
You force yourself to stand tall, but the quiet murmur of the crowd around you makes you feel exposed, like a target under a spotlight.
“As my sister, YN has been… well, how should I say this… a distraction,” Mike says, his voice dripping with mock affection “She’s been more focused on parties and… friendships than actual responsibility. And I think it’s time she learns that life isn’t all about being the center of attention.”
You feel your cheeks burn, the words piercing through you like ice. You can feel the eyes of the guests on you, the weight of their silent judgment. You try to maintain your composure, but the sting of Mike’s words make you feel small.
Like you don’t belong here.
Like you are nothing more than a plaything in the shadow of your perfect, golden brother.
Mike’s gaze never wavers from yours as he delivers the final blow.
“Maybe one day, she’ll realize that success isn’t about what you can get from people, but about what you can give back. I can only hope that she grows up soon enough.”
A few uncomfortable chuckles rip through the crowd, and your chest tightens. The blood rushes to your ears, and for a brief moment, you feel like you can’t breathe.
You look around, trying to find someone’s gaze—anyone who might offer you some comfort—but they all seem to look away, as if they have already accepted Mike’s harsh truth.
Your father is smiling, nodding as if it’s all just a joke. Your mother is watching you with a mixture of concern and hurt.
But you feel entirely alone.
The crowd clap hesitantly, you manage to give a tight smile, though it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.
You stand still, trying not to let the tears welling in your eyes break free.
You have no idea where Hongjoong is—if he is even coming—but right now, you need him more than ever.
You need someone who sees you for who you truly are, not the image that Mike and everyone else had constructed for you.
“Excuse me,” You murmur to no one in particular, slipping away from the crowd.
✮ ⋆
The party had begun to mellow out after Mike’s speech, the guests turning their attention to the endless flow of wine and hors d’oeuvres. In one of the quieter corners of the room, Dann sat alone, her champagne glass untouched on the small table before her.
She fiddled with the hem of her dress, her eyes flickering toward the laughter and conversation swirling around her.
Mike, ever the picture of confidence, approached her with a sly grin, his glass of scotch in hand.
“Well, Dann,” He says smoothly, sliding into the chair beside her. “How much did you enjoy YN’s little… public humbling?”
Dann hesitates, caught off guard by the directness of the question. But then, her lips curl into a faint smirk.
“I can’t say it wasn’t satisfying,” She replies, her tone measured but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness.
He chuckles darkly “I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’ve had a front-row seat to her antics, haven’t you?”
She shrugs, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass “I’m around her every day, every hour. I see more than anyone else does.”
Mike’s brows lift, his curiosity piqued “Really? And where is our dear YN now? Have you seen her?”
Dann’s eyes darted toward the balcony doors “Probably outside, drinking, smoking, who knows.”
Mike leans forward, his voice dropping slightly “Smoking?”
“Yeah,” Dann replies casually “She does it often. You wouldn’t notice, but I do. She hides it well.”
He studies her for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth in her words. Then, with a smirk, he straightens up.
“Interesting. Well, I suppose I should go check on her, make sure she hasn’t set anything on fire in her dramatics.”
Dann let out a small laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She watches as Mike rose and headed toward the garden doors, his steps purposeful and unhurried.
✮ ⋆
The garden is quiet, the cool night air wrapping around you as you step outside. The soft glow of the party lights spills onto the garden, but you move further into the shadows, needing to be alone.
You clutch your champagne flute tightly, the glass cold against your palm. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of Mike’s words pressing down on you.
Why does he always do this? Why can’t he just let you be?
You take a deep breath, the crisp air biting at your lungs, and tilt your head back to look at the stars. They’re beautiful, distant, and unattainable—just like the life you’ve always wanted.
Your hands shake slightly as you sip champagne, the liquid sloshing around in the crystal flute as you bring it to your lips. You don’t care if that is already your fifth glass.
You need something to numb the ache in your chest, something to drown out the sting of Mike’s words.
You fumble for a cigarette, pulling one from the pack with a trembling hand. The sweet strawberry scent fills the air as you lit it, inhaling deeply as the smoke curls around you like a shield. It doesn’t help.
The words he’d said—how you aren’t good enough, how you would never live up to his expectations—replays in your mind over and over.
You try to focus on the cool air, the quiet of the garden, but the ache in your heart doesn't go away. You felt completely exposed out here, the vulnerability that had crept in from Mike’s public humiliation gnawing at your insides.
You didn’t care that you were smoking in a garden meant for guests, you didn’t care about anything at all right now.
How long have you been out here? An hour? Two? You don’t even know anymore. Your head is fuzzy from the alcohol and the smoke, and all you want is for someone to make it stop.
But no one is coming.
Your phone buzzes in your purse, but you don’t bother looking at it. It can be anyone—your parents, Mindy, maybe even Seonghwa.
But the person you truly want to hear from is nowhere to be found.
The door to the garden creaks open behind you, the sound sharp and jarring. You flinch, not needing to turn around to know who it is.
The anger in the footsteps, the unmistakable tension in the air—it could only be Mike.
“YN.” His voice cuts through the night like a blade.
You take another drag from the cigarette, your back stiffening.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to stop acting like an embarrassment!” His words are sharp, accusing “What the fuck are you doing out here, smoking and drinking like some common—”
You whip around to face him, your own anger rising like a tide.
“I don’t need you to lecture me, Mike.”
“Clearly, you need someone to remind you of your place,” He shoots back, his tone venomous “You’re out here, embarrassing the family, and you don’t even care.”
Your lips curl into a bitter smile, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the cigarette.
“You’ve made it clear enough how you feel about me. Why don’t you just get lost and leave me the fuck alone?”
Your voice is raw, but your words are sharp and final.
Mike’s jaw clenches, his anger bubbling over. Before you can react, he steps forward, his hand lashing out and landing across your cheek with a sickening crack.
You gasp, your head snapping to the side from the force of the slap.
For a moment, everything goes still. The sting spreads across your face, your vision blurring, but it isn’t just the slap—it’s the realization that he didn't change during these years and his knack of hitting you when he's upset is still there.
That he can hurt you again, in front of everyone, and no one would stop him.
Your lip splits, the taste of blood mixing with the bitterness in your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears, but you blink them back, refusing to show weakness.
“You'll always be the same, right?” Your voice trembles with the weight of the words.
Mike’s chest heaves with anger, but you don't care. You aren't afraid of him anymore. His cruelty has pushed you to the edge for too long, and now, something inside you snaps.
But as much as you want to say more, to lash out at him for everything he has ever done, your throat tightens. You swallow the lump in your throat, clenching your fists at your sides.
“Get back inside, YN,” He sneers, turning on his heel “You’re making this family look pathetic.”
You stay silent, watching him walk away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty garden. You sink back onto the bench, hands trembling.
You hadn’t expected him to hit you again—but it doesn’t matter. Nothing about this night matters anymore.
What is left for you? Where is Hongjoong?
As you sit there, all you can feel is the weight of his slap and the suffocating silence of the garden.
✮ ⋆
The mansion looms in the distance as you step out of the car, the cold air biting at your skin through your thin dress. The chauffeur doesn’t say a word, and you don’t acknowledge him.
You didn’t say goodbye to anyone at the party—didn’t even care if anyone noticed you slipping out.
You push open the front door, the familiar creak echoing in the grand, empty hall. The house is silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and some maids doing errands.
It’s late, but a light glows faintly from the far side of the room. Dann’s mother is there, cleaning up, as she often does late into the night.
She looks up as you enter, her expression softening into concern the moment she sees you.
“Miss YN?” She says, her voice cautious yet kind “What happened to your lip?”
You touch your fingers to your mouth, wincing slightly at the sting of the torn skin. The dried blood cracks under your touch, but you force a small, dismissive smile.
“It’s nothing,” You say, your voice hoarse and detached.
She frowns, setting the dish towel down “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sure you’re alright?”
You nod, unwilling to engage any further “I’m fine. Goodnight.”
Without waiting for a reply, you make your way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reach your room, the weight of the night is unbearable.
You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a shaky breath.
The room is exactly as you left it—immaculate, pristine, and entirely too cold. You slip out of your dress, trading the suffocating fabric for a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.
Crawling into bed, you stare at the ceiling, the events of the night playing over and over in your mind.
Mike’s humiliating speech, the slap that still burns on your cheek, and the conspicuous absence of Hongjoong.
Hongjoong.
You held onto the hope that he would show up, that he’d swoop in and make everything feel bearable, but he didn’t. Not a call, not a message. Just silence.
Your chest tightens, and your throat feels raw as the urge to cry threatens to consume you.
But you don’t. You won’t.
You clench your jaw, swallowing hard against the lump that’s risen in your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away furiously, refusing to let them fall.
Crying feels like defeat, like letting Mike, Hongjoong, and everyone else see how much they’ve gotten to you.
You curl up on your side, staring blankly at the wall. The ache in your chest is suffocating, but you press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay composed.
Mike’s words echo in your ears—his sneer, his disdain. And the silence from Hongjoong—the boy who is supposed to be on your side, who is supposed to see you, really see you—is deafening.
But you won’t cry. You won’t give them that power.
You take a shaky breath and close your eyes, trying to block it all out. The humiliation, the loneliness, the betrayal—they’re all too much, but you won’t let them break you.
You are a Clarke. And YN Clarke doesn’t cry.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
Hongjoong bursts into the venue, his heart pounding from the frantic drive. The event is still lively, guests milling about in elegant attire, but his eyes scan the room for one person only—you.
He pulls out his phone, scrolling to your name, his thumb hovering over the call button. With a shaky breath, he presses it, raising the phone to his ear as he moves through the crowd.
“Come on, pretty. Pick up.” He mutters under his breath.
The line doesn’t even ring—it goes straight to voicemail. His stomach sinks, and a fresh wave of panic washes over him. He tries texting instead:
Joongie♡: YN, I’m so sorry. I’m here now. Where are you? Please let me explain.
He hits send and watches the message sit undelivered, the grey checkmark mocking him.
“Damn it,” He hisses, running a hand through his hair.
“Hongjoong?”
A familiar voice cuts through the din. He turns to see your mother standing a few feet away, her brows knitted together in mild surprise.
“Mrs. Clarke,” He says, relief flooding his tone as he quickly approaches her “Have you seen YN? I’ve been trying to find her.”
Her expression softens, though there’s a trace of sadness in her eyes. She sighs, folding her arms across her chest.
“I haven’t seen her in a while. She might’ve left already.”
Hongjoong’s face falls “Left? Why would she leave?”
Mrs. Clarke hesitates, clearly choosing her words carefully.
“You know how these events can be… overwhelming. Sometimes, she just needs space.”
His heart twists. He can sense there’s more she isn’t saying, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he nods, his mind racing with worry.
“Did she… say anything before she left? Did she seem okay?”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances away briefly “She didn’t say much. But…” She pauses, then shakes her head “I think it’s best if you talk to her yourself. Maybe she is at home.”
Hongjoong nods again, swallowing the lump in his throat.
“Thank you. I’ll find her.”
The elegant woman gives him a small, almost apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving Hongjoong standing amidst the glitz and glamour of the party.
The lights feel too bright, the laughter too sharp. He dials your number again, and when it goes straight to voicemail, his frustration bubbles over.
“Pretty, please, call me back,” He says into the phone, his voice strained “I need to talk to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. Please, just… let me know you’re okay.”
He hangs up, his chest heaving. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. He starts pacing, determined, Hongjoong sets off toward the exit, hoping against hope that he’s not too late to make things right.
After a twenty minute drive, Hongjoong pulls up to your house, his heart pounding as he steps out of the car. The sprawling mansion looms in the moonlight, its grandeur only amplifying his anxiety.
He jogs up the stone steps and rings the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
After a moment, the door creaks open, and a maid greets him. Her expression brightens slightly when she recognizes him.
“Oh, Mr. Hongjoong, you’re a friend of Miss YN, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” He says, his voice laced with urgency “Is she home?”
The maid hesitates, then nods “I think she is in her room now, come in.”
Hongjoong exhales, his chest tightening “Thank you.”
He makes his way through the elegant hallways, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floors.
When he reaches your door, he finds it closed. He pauses, then knocks softly.
“YN? It’s me, Hongjoong,” He says, his voice trembling slightly “I… I need to talk to you. Please.”
There’s no response.
He knocks again, this time with more urgency “YN, I’m so sorry. I need you to know what happened. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”
Inside, you sit on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled up to your chest. You can hear every word he’s saying, the emotion in his voice tugging at your heart.
But you don’t move, your resolve firm. You can’t face him right now—not like this.
Hongjoong presses his forehead against the door, his fists clenching at his sides.
“I was tricked,” He says, his voice breaking “Dann… she gave me the wrong address. I thought I was going to the party, but it was all a lie. By the time I realized it was too late. I’m so sorry, YN. I didn’t mean to let you down.”
Still, you remain silent, staring at the door with a mix of anger, sadness, and exhaustion.
You want to believe him—you really do—but the weight of the evening keeps you rooted in place.
Hongjoong leans back, running a hand through his hair “I hate that I wasn’t there for you,” He continues “I know tonight was important to you, and I messed it up. But please, pretty… I care about you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”
Your heart aches at his words, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Maybe it’s the humiliation still fresh in your mind or the sting of feeling abandoned when you needed him most.
Either way, you decide to stay quiet.
After a long silence, he sighs heavily “I get it, you don’t want to talk to me right now. That’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
He lingers by the door for a moment longer, as if hoping for a miracle. When none comes, he finally steps away, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.
Inside, you exhale shakily, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. You feel torn, caught between your desire to open the door and the overwhelming need to protect yourself.
Maybe when you feel better—when the pain isn’t so raw—you can talk to him.
But for now, you stay where you are, letting the quiet of the room envelop you.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
The next few days pass in a haze. You keep to your room, the curtains drawn and the world shut out. You don’t want to face anyone—Mike, your parents, your friends, and especially Hongjoong.
The humiliation from the party still lingers like a wound that refuses to heal, and you can’t bear the thought of their pity or judgment.
Your mother knocks on the door each morning, her voice soft and tentative, but you always feign a cough or complain of feeling unwell. It works, for now.
They let you stay hidden away, though you know it’s only a matter of time before they stop accepting your excuses.
By Wednesday, the isolation is starting to feel suffocating, but you still can’t bring yourself to leave.
The knock on your door comes earlier than usual, followed by your mother’s voice.
“Sweetie, it’s me. Can I come in?”
You hesitate, considering pretending to be asleep, but before you can answer, the door creaks open. She steps in, her expression a mixture of worry and sadness as she closes the door behind her.
She sits on the edge of your bed, smoothing the blanket with her manicured hands.
“You’ve been in here for days,” She says gently “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine,” You murmur, your voice hoarse “I just need some rest.”
She reaches out, brushing your hair “You don’t have to pretend with me, YN. I know how hard that night must have been for you.”
Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your resolve waver.
But instead of breaking down, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
She nods, her gaze softening “That’s okay. But I need you to know that… I’m here for you. No matter what.” You don’t respond, your eyes fixed on the wall. After a moment, she sighs and leans forward, kissing your forehead “I’ll let you rest. Just… don’t shut yourself off completely, okay?”
Later that evening, another knock sounds at your door. This time, it’s your father.
He doesn’t wait for permission before entering, holding a small black box in his hand.
“Darling,” He says, his tone unusually bright “I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”
You glance at him warily as he places the box on the bed beside you.
“What is it?”
“Open it and see,” He says, his smile strained.
You sit up slowly, pulling the box closer. Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, is a sleek key fob. Your breath catches as you recognize the emblem—your father’s favorite luxury brand.
“A car?” You ask, looking up at him.
He nods, his smile faltering slightly “It’s parked in the driveway. I thought… after everything, you deserve something special.”
You stare at the key, a mix of emotions swirling inside you.
This isn’t the first time he’s done this—tried to smooth over their failures with expensive gifts. When you were a child, it was toys, then clothes, then trips abroad.
Now, it’s cars.
“Thanks,” You say quietly, your fingers curling around the key.
Your father seems to relax at your response, as if the gesture has absolved him of guilt.
“Take your time, darling. Whenever you’re ready, we can go for a drive.”
You nod, watching as he leaves the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.
You stare at the key in your hand, the weight of it heavier than it should be. It’s a beautiful gift, but it doesn’t fill the emptiness inside you.
It doesn’t erase the memory of Mike’s words or the ache of feeling like you’re always second best.
You set the key down on your nightstand and lie back against the pillows, closing your eyes. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll feel strong enough to face the world.
But for now, you stay cocooned in your room, the only place where you feel safe.
✮ ⋆
The next morning, you wake up before your alarm, determination burning in your chest. You’ve spent days locked away, hidden from the world, but that ends today.
No one at school knows what really happened that night, and you intend to keep it that way. As far as they’re concerned, you were just under the weather.
Also, after four days, you decide to turn on your phone, which immediately fills up with notifications of missed messages and calls. You decide to take a moment to review it.
10 missed calls from Mindy.
7 missed calls from Brat Woo.
2 missed calls from Hwa.
1 missed call from Mingi.
28 missed calls from Joongie.
486 unread messages.
You don't want to read so many messages, so you prefer to shut it down and start to get ready for the day.
You pull open your closet door and scan through the racks of designer clothes.
After a few moments, you settle on a pearl-white blouse that hugs your frame perfectly, paired with a plaid mini-skirt that shows off your legs, and your favorite jimmy choo’s high heels complete the look, adding the perfect touch of glamour.
Your makeup is flawless, of course. You conceal every imperfection, erasing any hint of the chaos you’ve endured.
The faint scab on your lip vanishes beneath a carefully chosen red lipstick, and the flush of blush gives your cheeks a healthy, radiant glow.
The girl staring back at you in the mirror looks exactly as she should: untouchable, effortless, and every bit the queen bee.
Outside, your new car gleams under the morning sun, a symbol of your parent’s guilt and their way of fixing everything with a price tag.
You don’t care. Today, it’s a weapon, and you know exactly how to use it.
The engine purrs as you pull into the school parking lot, catching everyone’s attention. Heads turn, conversations falter, and by the time you step out, all eyes are on you.
You move with purpose, your heels clicking against the pavement as you stride toward the entrance.
You can feel the weight of their stares, hear the murmurs of curiosity.
“Is that YN’s new car?”
“Didn’t she call in sick for the past few days?”
“She looks gorgeous!”
You smirk inwardly, keeping your expression neutral. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.
None of it matters.
Inside, your friends are waiting near your locker, their faces lighting up as they spot you.
“Babe! You’re back!” Mindy exclaims, her voice tinged with relief “We were so worried about you!”
“What happened? Are you feeling better?” Another friend chimes in.
You shrug casually, opening your locker as if this is just another normal day.
“I’m fine. Just needed a few days to recover from the flu. Nothing serious.”
Mindy’s eyes flicker to your car keys, which you’re holding deliberately in your hand.
“And the car? Is that new?”
You flash her a small smile, dangling the keys for emphasis “A little gift from my parents. They thought I deserved a pick-me-up.”
The group erupts into compliments, fawning over your car and your outfit. It’s almost too easy to redirect their attention.
But as you glance around, your gaze lands on Hongjoong in the distance entering the library.
Maybe it’s time to talk with him about that night, he owes you an apology.
“I see you in class, girls.”
Without waiting for a response, you make your way to the library.
The library is quiet, the faint rustle of pages and soft whispers creating a cocoon of calm. You scan the room until your eyes land on Hongjoong, sitting at a table with a few of his friends.
He looks up just as you approach, his face shifting between surprise and relief.
“YN,” He starts, rising from his seat, “I—”
“Save it for later, Hongjoong,” You cut him off sharply, your tone leaving no room for argument “We need to talk about what you said that night.”
He hesitates, glancing awkwardly at his friends, but your unwavering stare makes him nod and follow you to a secluded corner of the library.
Once you’re alone, you cross your arms, your eyes narrowing.
“Why didn’t you show up at the party? I waited for you for almost three hours, Joong.”
“I know, I know, pretty,” He says immediately, reaching out to steady your waist, his tone pleading “But like I told you that night, Dann tricked me—”
You cut him off again with a scoff, pulling back “Dann? You promised me you wouldn’t talk to her again.”
“And I didn’t start the conversation!” He protests, frustration creeping into his voice “She approached me that day at the mall.”
“What?” You blink, momentarily thrown off. The situation sounds ridiculous, almost laughable.
“That day, I was shopping, and out of nowhere, Dann appeared, asking what I was doing there. When I mentioned the party—” He pauses, sighing heavily as his hand rakes through his hair, “She told me the venue had changed and said she’d send me the new address. I thought it was odd, but when she mentioned your mom inviting her, I believed it.”
Your jaw tightens “And then?”
“I drove to the address she gave me,” He continues, his voice dropping with guilt “It was in the middle of nowhere. No signal, no way to contact you or anyone else. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. I rushed back to the Ritz and then to your house as soon as I could, but…”
You’re silent for a moment, processing his words. None of it makes sense.
Dann, sweet, shy, unassuming Dann, pulling off a plan like this? The thought feels absurd.
Then again, you remind yourself, people aren’t always what they seem.
“And why did you trust her? Why didn’t you call me after she told you that?” You press, your tone sharper now.
Hongjoong’s hands tighten briefly around your waist before he mutters.
“She said maybe you were busy and forgot to tell me. I... I trusted her because she was my friend.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the admission dripping with shame.
“Oh my god, Joongie.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I thought you were smart. But I understand. She was your friend, and you didn’t think she’d trick you like that.”
He bites his lip, clearly embarrassed, but when you reach out to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze to yours, he softens.
“Now you owe me an apology,” You murmur, your lips brushing his lightly “You left me all alone.”
He smiles at your pout, a playful glint in his eyes “I know. What about dinner after school?”
You shake your head, frowning “I want another kind of apology. You know what I mean, Kim Hongjoong.”
And of course, he knows. But he can’t resist teasing you, just a little.
“We can’t do anything indecent here, pretty,” He murmurs, his hands slipping lower to rest on your hips as he pulls you closer “I don’t want to get us in trouble.”
You roll your eyes but let the moment linger for a breath longer before stepping back, a plan already forming in your mind.
“Fine,” You say, straightening your posture and fixing him with a determined look “But this isn’t over. And speaking of people owing me, I’m going to have a little chat with Dann. She has some explaining to do.”
Hongjoong stiffens, his playful demeanor vanishing “YN—maybe you should let it go. You know how Dann is. She’ll twist things, make it worse.”
“Not this time.” Your voice is steady, cold “She went too far, and I’m not letting her get away with it. If she wants to play games, I’ll show her how it’s done.”
He watches as you stride out of the library, determination radiating from every step.
He knows better than to argue when you’re like this, but even he can’t help the twinge of unease at the thought of what’s coming next.
✮ ⋆
The final bell rings, and students rush to leave the school. The hallways are alive with chatter, but you remain by your locker, surrounded by her entourage—Mindy, Wooyoung, Samantha, and a few others. Hongjoong lingers close by, his face a mixture of anticipation and tension.
As the crowd thins, you spot Dann walking down the hall, clutching her books, her head low as if trying to make herself invisible.
Your lips curl into a sharp smile, eyes glinting with cold determination.
“Dann!” You call out, voice slicing through the noise like a whip.
Dann freezes, her face draining of color. Slowly, she turns, her eyes wide as they meet yours.
It's been days since that day at the party and she’s been so nervous about you finding out what she did.
You saunter toward her, your friends following closely, their presence an unspoken threat.
“YN, I have to—” Dann begins, but you cut her off.
“Don’t even try, Dann. I’m not in the mood for your pathetic excuses.” You step closer, your gaze narrowing “I just have one question for you: What made you think you could lie to Hongjoong and me and get away with it?”
Dann swallows hard, glancing at the others, who are watching her like predators sizing up their prey.
“What—”
“Oh, don’t give me that!” You snap, throwing her hands up dramatically “You know what you did that day.” Dann’s panic builds, and her breath catches in her lungs for a moment “You didn’t mean to send Joongie to some random, deserted place? You didn’t mean to ruin my night?”
Dann’s grip tightens on her books “I wasn’t trying to—”
“You weren’t trying to what?” You interrupt, voice dripping with mockery “You weren’t trying to sabotage me? You’re such a bad liar, Dann.”
Mindy smirks, chiming in “I mean, seriously, Dann. Did you really think you could pull this off? You’re so… gullible.”
“And desperate,” Wooyoung adds with a chuckle, earning a snicker from the others.
You cross your arms, your expression one of feigned hurt.
“You know, I even gave you that dress for the party. That expensive designer dress. Because I thought, ‘Hey, maybe Dann deserves a chance to feel special for once.’” You pause “Guess I was wrong.”
Dann’s eyes well up with tears, but she shakes her head, trying to muster a defense.
“YN, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I just—”
“Just what?” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a small crowd of lingering students. “Just decided to be so dumb and submissive that you’d believe anything someone told you? Or are you working with someone?”
The accusation hangs in the air, and Dann’s lips part as if to respond, but she quickly closes them, her silence speaking volumes.
To everyone's surprise; Hongjoong steps forward, his jaw tight.
“You know what, Dann? I can’t believe I trusted you. You used to be my friend. I thought you were better than this.”
Dann flinches at his words, her composure slipping further.
“Joong, I…” Dann looks down, her tears threatening to spill over.
You smirk, stepping closer until you’re towering over Dann.
“Did you want me to be mad at him?”
Dann’s face flushes with humiliation, and she shakes her head vehemently.
“No! That’s not what I—”
“Save it, you’re pathetic, Dann. And you’re not just a liar—you’re a bad one. Honestly, I doubt you came up with this plan on your own. Someone must’ve put you up to it. Who was it?”
“Maybe it was Seonghwa, I saw them talking at the party.” Mindy snaps with a grin “Right, Dann?”
Dann remains silent, her lips trembling as she clutches her books tighter. She won't say a word about it, and you frown at the mention of Seonghwa’s name.
Seonghwa talking with her, What the fuck?
“No answer?” You laugh bitterly “I see, you’re too scared to even admit it. Well, let me give you some advice: Stay out of my way. You’re not in my league, Dann. You never were, and never will.”
Wooyoung steps forward again with a grin “You owe YN and Hongjoong an apology.”
“A real one. Not that half-hearted excuse you tried earlier.” Sam adds.
Dann’s tears finally spill over, and she whispers “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
You roll her eyes, turning to your friends.
“Let’s go. I’m done wasting my time on her.”
As they walk away, you glance over your shoulder one last time, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.
“Oh, and Dann? Don’t ever think about messing with me again. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.”
The crowd disperses, leaving Dann standing alone, her face streaked with tears. Behind her trembling exterior, a flicker of something else—anger or determination—takes root.
✮ ⋆
Dann steps are heavy, her hands trembling slightly as she clutches her bag. Tears still cling to her lashes, but her face is set in a grim determination.
The humiliation at school burns fresh in her mind, your cutting words replaying over and over like a cruel mantra.
By the time she reaches the front door of Clrarke’s mansion, her shame has transformed into anger—a searing, all-consuming fury.
She pushes open the heavy doors without hesitation, her steps echoing through the grand foyer.
There is Mike, sitting comfortably reading something.
“Mike.” She says, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat.
Mike looks at her, his expression cool and calculating as always. He closes the book, his sharp eyes scanning her face.
“Well, well,” He drawls, his lips curling into a smirk “You look like hell. Let me guess—Queen YN had her fun at your expense?”
Dann glares at him, dropping her bag onto the floor.
“She humiliated me again. In front of everyone.”
Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “That’s her style. Did you expect a thank-you card for all your hard work?”
“I expected her to be human for once,” Dann snaps, her voice trembling with emotion “But she’s not. She’s a monster. And I’m done being her punching bag.”
Mike’s smirk widens, a glint of approval in his eyes “Finally. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever grow a backbone.”
Dann takes a deep breath, forcing herself to steady “You were right. About everything. YN needs to be taken down. For good.”
He raises an eyebrow, intrigued “And you’re ready to do what it takes?”
“Yes,” Dann says without hesitation, her fists clenching at her sides “I want to destroy her. Her reputation, her relationships, her entire world—I want it all gone.”
Mike stands up, and walks directly in front of her “Now you’re speaking my language. But do you have a plan, or are you just here to vent?”
Dann lifts her chin, meeting his gaze with newfound determination.
“I thought you might have some ideas. You’re the one who’s been watching her for years, waiting for her to slip up.”
“I do have a few ideas. But if we’re going to do this, we’ll need to be smart. YN’s not stupid—she’ll see a direct attack coming from a mile away.”
Dann nods, her anger simmering just below the surface.
“So what do we do?”
Mike gestures for her to follow him, leading her to a luxurious sitting room where he pours himself a drink.
He takes a slow sip before speaking.
“We chip away at her. Little by little. She’s built this image of perfection and control, but all it takes is one crack for the whole thing to shatter.” He leans against the bar, his eyes gleaming with malice “We start with Hongjoong. Make YN doubt his intentions.”
Dann swallows, the weight of his words settling over her.
“How do we do that?”
Mike swirls his drink lazily, watching Dann with a satisfied smirk.
"Simple," He says "We make her think the one person she trusts most is betraying her."
Dann frowns, confused "Hongjoong? But he’s loyal to her."
He chuckles, shaking his head "Loyalty is fragile. YN’s world is built on power and control—she doesn’t trust anyone completely. If we plant the right seeds, she’ll start questioning even him."
Dann crosses her arms "How? He barely even talks to anyone outside of their little circle."
Mike leans forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially.
"I’m pretty sure that after that nerd missed the party, he will apologize to her, right? Maybe this time he will fuck her as an apology.” He smiles, his words full of venom.
Dann shifts uncomfortably at Mike’s crude words, but she doesn’t argue. He’s right—Hongjoong will go crawling back to you, desperate to make it up to you.
He’s like a lost puppy when it comes to you, willing to do anything to stay by your side.
Mike watches her reaction carefully, then smirks “And when that happens, we’ll act.”
Dann furrows her brows “What do you mean?”
He sets his glass down with a soft clink, straightening up.
“I’ll tell you later, now go.”
Dann hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face, but she does what he ordered. She turned around and left the room.
Whatever Mike is planning must be good.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
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All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.
THE CLIFFHANGER?!?!??
I need the next part (of course take your time)
strangers by nature | vi
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: 6.6K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, attacks on animals, mentions of blood, swearing, mentions of mental health, only half proofread, use of crude language
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a/n: it hurt me to write this chapter 😭
You weren’t particularly close to your father. His life revolved around his work—the family business he hadn’t wanted but had accepted out of obligation when your uncles, San and Jongho’s fathers, stepped aside, unwilling to subject their sons to the challenges of running a conglomerate.
Sometimes you wished he had done the same too.
He was often away, traveling to meet clients or locked in endless board meetings. He wasn’t the type of man to swoop in with comforting words or a warm embrace. Instead, he listened without interrupting, nodded without judgment, and spoke only when he felt it was necessary. Despite the distance between you, his steady presence had a way of making you feel oddly secure.
And maybe that was why, as you paced the length of your penthouse, you found yourself dialing his number. Mingi followed your every move, his small body glued to your side. He kept glancing up at you, occasionally tripping you with how close he was.
“Come on, pick up, pick up…” You muttered to yourself. Your pacing carried you in a loop—through the kitchen, into the dining room you barely used, and then into the living room. Then, you wandered back into the kitchen, your footsteps quickening with every unanswered ring.
“Y/N?”
Your shoulders sagged in relief, and you stopped pacing, planting yourself in the middle of the kitchen as Mingi bumped up against your ankles.
“Dad!”
“Is everything alright?”
You hesitated, your fingers tightening slightly around the phone. How were you supposed to explain everything that had transpired the last few weeks without sounding unhinged?
What were you even supposed to say? Hi, Dad. Quick question: Are you sure the woman you’re married to is actually my mother?
Your parents’ marriage had always seemed like a curious thing to you. It was a product of an arrangement. Yet, over the years, your father’s quiet gestures of affection seemed to keep your mother content, even happy.
Surely, he couldn’t have had an affair.
The idea felt absurd, but then again, you’d always felt like a stranger in your own home, an outsider looking in at a family that didn’t quite seem to know where you fit.
“I-I need to talk to you about something. I didn’t want to call mom because…you know how she gets.”
Your mother had a flair for theatrics, a tendency to turn even the smallest inconvenience into a grand production. If you’d called her instead, the situation would have escalated before you even finished explaining.
“What’s going on?”
“I…” You faltered for a moment, running a hand through your hair before continuing your train of thought.
“There’s this woman who I think has been stalking me. A friend of mine was dogsitting Maro when she approached him at the park.” Your voice dropped slightly, recounting your conversation with Yeosang.
“She recognized Maro…and referred to me as her daughter.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and you took a moment to crouch down and stroke Mingi’s fur as he leaned into your side.
“I don’t know who she is,” you admitted softly. “But…something about her felt wrong. And it’s been bothering me ever since.”
“Did she hurt you or Maro?”
“No, but she tried to abduct a little girl a few weeks ago. We stopped her and she fled.”
“Y/N, I need you to listen to me carefully,” he said, his tone suddenly firm.
You froze mid-step, his words rooting you in place. “Okay,” you said hesitantly, your voice small.
“I need you to stay put,” he continued. “Don’t do anything or go anywhere, especially not alone. I’m going to call the lawyers and have them review the court order and police files.”
“Court order?” you repeated, confusion rising in your chest. “What are you talking about?”
“Call either San or Jongho,” he said instead, his tone softening just enough to sound like a plea.
“Let them know I’ve asked one of them to stay with you until we sort this out.”
“Dad, what court order?” you pressed, gripping the phone tighter as your heart raced.
Mingi, sensing your distress, pawed at you insistently, his soft whines urging you to sit down. But you couldn’t move, couldn’t tear your focus away from the ominous edge in your father’s voice.
“There was an incident when you were three. If she is who I think she is, she’s someone we dealt with a long time ago.”
“Who?”
“Your former nanny,” he admitted, his voice steady but grim. “She tried to take you,” he said bluntly.
“At first, she seemed fine. Kind, attentive, everything you’d want for a child. But things started escalating. Your mother noticed something was off right after she lost her own daughter in an accident. She’d grown too attached to you. Too possessive. We let her go, but before we could take any legal action, she attempted to abduct you.”
“She tried to kidnap me?”
“She managed to evade security at first. It was like any other day. But by the time we realized what was happening, she was already on her way to the airport with you.”
The room spun, and before you realized it, you had sunk to the floor. The color drained from your face as the weight of the revelation hit you. Mingi froze, his small body going still as he struggled to process the gravity of what he was hearing.
He let out a soft whine, curling closer to you. He hadn’t fully understood your fears, the reasons behind your walls, the way panic sometimes overtook you without warning.
Now, as a dog, powerless to do anything but sit beside you, the weight of guilt felt almost unbearable.
“We caught her in time,” he continued quickly, his tone shifting, as if trying to calm you.
“She didn’t make it far. Security intercepted her at the gate just as she was preparing to board a flight. We filed charges immediately and she was arrested.”
“But?” you scoffed. “Your money and influence couldn’t keep her behind bars?”
“We didn’t think she’d ever get out, Y/N. The charges were serious, and the evidence was solid. At the time, we were assured she’d be locked away for decades.” He hesitated, and for a moment, you thought you heard his voice waver.
“You were so young. We didn’t want to burden you with something you wouldn’t even remember. We thought we could protect you from it all.”
“So much for power,” you muttered bitterly, rubbing your temples. “She seems to be escalating. She’s openly trying to kidnap children now. Who knows what else she’s capable of?”
Your father’s sigh was heavy. “Which is why you’re not to go anywhere alone, Y/N. Not until this is resolved.”
“Dad—”
“I’ll be increasing the security presence around the penthouse as well. And before you ask, yes, I'll be coordinating with Mingi’s family to ensure their resources are aligned with ours.”
The mention of your in-laws made your stomach twist. They were probably unaware of the situation, but it wouldn’t stay that way for long. You could already imagine your mother-in-law spinning the story to her social circle about her damsel of a daughter-in-law and how her poor son was unable to save her. The thought of being the centerpiece of their gossip left you feeling exposed and vulnerable.
“Make sure there’s a secure presence at the hospital too,” you said, cutting in before the conversation could linger on your in-laws.
“She might try something there.”
Your father arched a brow. He knew you didn’t particularly like being married to Mingi—he wasn’t blind to the strain in your relationship. Truthfully, he regretted agreeing to the arrangement in the first place. He’d witnessed firsthand the coldness with which Mingi had treated you, most notably the way he’d rebuffed your birthday gathering that first year of marriage. It had been a bitter reminder that not all alliances were worth the price they came with.
But upon hearing your request, it made him realize that you had always been kinder, and more compassionate than those around him. While he had always seemed distant, caught up in his own world of business and power, moments like these reminded him that you had grown into someone he was proud of. Someone who cared, even for those who didn’t deserve it.
“Is there anything else that you need?” he asked, his voice softer now.
“No,” you replied, shaking your head slightly. “But I’m not going to live in fear forever. She doesn’t get to have that power over me.”
“I don’t expect you to. I just want you to be safe.”
The line disconnected and you set the phone down, your hand lingering on it for a moment before turning back to Mingi. You felt a surge of emotions–anger, frustration, fear, and a flicker of determination.
But when you saw him sitting patiently on the floor, watching you intently with his big eyes, fluffy ears, and wrinkled nose, everything inside you softened. The weight of the world seemed to melt away in that moment, and your heart ached with affection.
“You’re so cute, I can’t stand it,” you squealed, the intensity of your emotions spilling out in a completely unexpected way.
Without thinking, you scooped him into your arms, pressing your face against his soft fur as you swayed back and forth with him. Mingi melted into your embrace, his small body going limp as he relished your warmth.
“I just want to squish you!” you exclaimed, giggling as you kissed him between the ears.
Mingi let out a soft, rumbling growl, not out of annoyance but because he didn’t know how else to respond to the flood of emotions washing over him. If only you knew how deeply he wanted to protect you, not just as a dog, but as the man who had failed to see your worth for far too long.
“I should probably text the group chat,” you murmured, reaching for your phone while balancing Mingi securely in your other arm.
[Y/N]: My dad said I can have a sleepover
[Grumpy Bear]: fuck yeah
[Mountain Mayne]: Can Kira come too?”
[Y/N]: Only Kira, you stay home
⋆
Mingi found himself scowling, scooped up in San’s arms, as the four of you lounged in your living room, covered in mountains of blankets, pillows, and snacks. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up in this situation, but he was definitely not thrilled when your cousins and San’s fiancée came crashing into the penthouse after you summoned them with a single text.
“Why isn’t the dog distribution system working for us?” San asked, holding Mingi out toward Kira like he was some kind of offering. Mingi shot him a glare, but the effect was somewhat lost given his tiny size and the way his fur poofed up around his face.
“Because we already have three cats at home,” she replied, chomping on a piece of cheese without looking up from her phone. San sighed dramatically, pulling Mingi back to cradle him like a baby.
“Don’t worry, Maro, I'll save you from your owner and her evil husband.”
Mingi bristled, his fur puffing out even more. He barked indignantly, but it only made San laugh as he nuzzled Mingi’s fluffy face.
“Yeah, if the evil husband ever wakes up,” Jongho snorted from under his fortress of blankets.
The room fell silent, save for the faint sound of Howl’s Moving Castle playing in the background. Mingi froze, his small body tensing in San’s arms. His ears flattened against his head as Jongho’s words echoed in his mind.
Sure, he hadn’t been a perfect husband. He wasn’t even sure he’d been a good one. But…evil?
“Oh come on, that’s not fair,” you replied, albeit with an edge to your tone.
“What?” Jongho raised his hands defensively, his expression a mix of guilt and awkwardness.
“It was a joke. I mean, come on, the guy cheated, publicly humiliated you… you can do so much better, Y/N.”
“I know a good divorce lawyer,” Kira added, waving her phone as if the solution to your problems was just a call away.
The truth of their words clawed at Mingi, a painful reminder of everything he’d done wrong. He wanted to bark, to growl, to defend himself, but what could he even say? That they were wrong? They weren’t. Not completely.
You inhaled sharply, your lips pressing into a thin line as you plopped down next to San. He glanced at you, but you ignored it, your focus entirely on the small dog curled stiffly in his arms.
“I get it,” you said finally, your voice clipped as you reached out and gently plucked Maro out of your cousin’s arms. He went still in your hold, his small body tensing as he waited for what you’d say next.
“Mingi has his own problems, but right now, he doesn’t have anyone in his corner. I don’t know what will happen when he wakes up, but it’s not fair to say things like that when he’s not here.” You cradled him closer, your touch instinctively protective as if shielding him from their judgement.
Jongho exhaled loudly, his earlier confidence deflating as he sank deeper into the pile of blankets. “Fair point,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. That was out of line.”
Mingi stayed silent, nestled in your arms, his mind racing. You could have left him at the hospital. You could have walked away, started over. Hell, maybe you should have. You could have even entertained the thought of dating Seonghwa, or Yeosang, or anyone else. Anyone but him.
But you hadn’t.
You spent countless nights in that hospital room, talking to him, even when he couldn’t say anything back. You stood up for him, even now, when he didn’t deserve it.
Mingi could picture it so clearly: someone else making you laugh, someone else holding your hand, someone else seeing the best parts of you.
Maybe they were right, he thought bitterly. Maybe you really could do better.
But even if that was true, he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. Not when there was still a sliver of hope that he might wake up, make amends, and find a way back to being the man you once believed he could be.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” you announced, rising to your feet with an exaggerated stretch. “It’s way past bedtime.”
“I’ll stay here,” San declared. “In case your stalker tries anything.”
“Good for you, honey,” Kira patted his shoulder. “But I’m going into one of the guest rooms because that’s what sane people do.”
“You’ve got this covered,” Jongho muttered sleepily, dragging himself out of the blanket pile. He stretched with a loud yawn and shuffled toward his room without even waiting for a reply.
“We’re supposed to be in this together,” San grumbled, throwing a pillow halfheartedly at Jongho’s retreating figure. It missed by a wide margin, flopping harmlessly to the floor.
As you slipped into your room, the shift was immediate. The air turned quiet and soft, a reprieve from the playful chaos outside. You closed the door gently and set Mingi down on the bed, his fluffy body sinking into the plush comforter.
He sat perfectly still, watching you move around the room. You pulled back the covers on your side of the bed and fluffed the pillows before finally settling in.
Patting the space beside you, you called softly, “Time for bed.”
He padded over, his small paws making barely a sound as he climbed onto the blankets and curled up near your side. When he tucked his nose into the crook of your neck, you giggled.
“I love you. Night night, puppy,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
As you drifted off to sleep, Mingi stayed awake, tracing the gentle slope of your nose to the soft curve of your lips. It all seemed so fleeting, like everything could slip away in the blink of an eye.
He sighed softly, rolling onto his back and then to his side again, unable to find a comfortable position. San’s snores rumbled faintly through the door, a reminder of the others nearby. But Mingi’s mind was too restless to relax.
His mind drifted to his last task: What did it mean to offer you happiness without expecting anything in return?
Isn’t it about giving you what you wanted? Protecting you, making you laugh, or ensuring you were never alone? But the more he thought about it, the more complicated it became.
How could he possibly give you that when so much of his past had been spent hurting you?
He remembered the times he’d chosen his own pride over your feelings, the cruel words he couldn’t take back, the moments he’d walked away when you needed him most. He had made you feel small, like you were the one who didn’t belong, the one who wasn’t good enough for him, all while he continued living his life while you were left to pick up the pieces of your own.
“You’re home all the time, don’t you have any friends?”
Your response had been blunt, cold, almost dismissive.
“No, they’re dead.”
That was all you said to him. No explanation, just a heavy finality that left him speechless. He didn’t know what it meant then, but now, looking back, it felt like a confession, a glimpse into a part of you that was buried beneath the walls you’d built to protect yourself after losing Hongjoong.
Kim Hongjoong, the ghost of a man who had never left your heart. The man who had held a place there long before Mingi had even existed in your life. And in that moment, jealousy crept in. It was sharp, bitter, the thought of losing you to a ghost threatening to consume him.
He hated that Hongjoong would always carry that piece of your heart he couldn’t touch, a piece that belonged to someone who had once been your everything. Because in this moment, Mingi, more than anything, coveted that place in your heart.
No matter how much he tried to remind himself that he was here, that he was now, it didn’t quell the sense of inadequacy growing within him. He couldn’t love you with the expectation of erasing your past or taking what wasn’t his to have.
If he was to prove himself, to earn his humanity, it couldn’t be about him. It had to come from a place of selflessness. He had to love you for who you were, even if it meant living in the shadow of a ghost. Even if it meant never being able to fully claim a place in your heart.
Even if it might mean accepting that some parts of you could never belong to him, no matter how much he wanted them to. And as painful as that truth was, Mingi knew it was the only way forward.
He nestled into your side, his fluffy form fitting snugly against you as he placed a paw against your nose. The steady rise and fall of your chest soothed him, reminding him that he was yours, even if it was only as Maro.
“I’m so bored,” you groaned, hanging your head over the back of the couch dramatically. The ceiling wasn’t particularly interesting, but you were so desperate for stimulation that you started counting the corners of the crown molding.
Kira glanced over from the kitchen, her brow furrowing in concentration as she whisked a bowl of batter with a bit too much vigor.
“You should try being useful. Come help me bake.”
“I’d rather be anywhere but here,” you muttered, sliding further down the couch until you were almost horizontal. “I’ve seen every corner of this penthouse.”
“Drama queen,” she said lightly. “You’re safe here. That’s what matters. And besides, I thought you’d enjoy the time off.”
“Time off from what?”
“I don’t know? The hospital? The back and forth must be draining.”
You hummed in response, though that was all you could muster. Draining wasn’t quite the word for it. It was true the days spent at the hospital had a way of blurring together, but you didn’t mind staying there. In some strange way, it felt right.
At the hospital, you had a routine. You’d arrive in the evening, lay on the sofa and stare out into nothingness. Sometimes you’d read, talk to him about trivial things, or just sit quietly, the hum of the monitors filling the silence. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A way to show him that he wasn’t alone, even if he couldn’t respond.
Because deep down, you knew he needed someone on his side.
It wasn’t easy to admit, even to yourself, but a part of you still held out hope for reconciliation. Not the fairytale kind, where everything magically resolved and all wounds were healed, but something quieter. A mutual understanding, perhaps. A moment where he’d open up, even just a little, and let you see the person behind all the walls he’d built.
You knew he was hurting. You’d always known, even when he tried to mask it with anger or indifference. His actions, the coldness, the distance, the biting remarks, were all symptoms of something deeper.
But there was another part of you, a quieter voice that you couldn’t ignore. The part that braced for no change at all. That prepared for the possibility that when, if, he woke up, he’d still be the same person he was before. That he’d still look at you like you were the problem, the obstacle, the thing standing in the way of his happiness.
That part of you longed for freedom.
You’d spent so much time tangled up in his chaos, in his pain, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to just...be.
Maybe, if and when he woke up, he’d be willing to part ways. And maybe that would be for the best.
“I ran out of eggs!”
You blinked, momentarily disoriented. “What?”
“Eggs!” she repeated, holding up the empty carton. “I can’t believe I forgot them. I’m halfway through making this cake, and now I have to stop everything to run to the store.”
“I’ll go with you!” you said quickly, standing up from the couch so fast you nearly tripped over your own feet.
Kira froze, narrowing her eyes at you. “You know you’re not supposed to leave.”
“And you’re supposed to be at the courthouse, but here you are, baking a cake for a man.”
“First of all, it’s called paid time off,” she replied, narrowing her eyes further. “Secondly, San’s stroke game is top tier.”
“Oh my God, stop!” you cut her off, throwing your hands up.
“I do not want to hear about your sex life with my cousin. He used to eat mud as a kid.”
Kira rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Anyway,” she continued, “your dad would absolutely kill me. He gave strict orders to keep you here. And unlike you, I actually follow them.”
“Come on, Kira,” you pleaded. Your eyes landed on Maro, lounging nearby. You scooped him up in one swift motion, holding him up like a fluffy shield.
“Even Maro thinks it’s a good idea!”
Mingi tilted his head, his dark eyes widening as he gave Kira his best impression of a sad, helpless puppy.
“Look at him. He’s begging you.”
Kira groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is ridiculous.”
“It’s a quick trip. Five minutes, tops,” you promised, your tone bordering on desperate. “I won’t go anywhere, I’ll stay by your side the entire time!”
She sighed, clearly wavering. “Fine.”
The ding of the store’s bell announced your arrival, and the comforting smell of fried food from the deli counter made your stomach grumble. Kira grabbed a basket, striding purposefully toward the back where the eggs were stashed.
“Eggs,” she said firmly, shooting you a warning glance over her shoulder.
“Got it,” you replied, though your eyes immediately wandered to the chip aisle.
The small store was quiet, almost unnervingly still, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. As you followed Kira, your gaze flicked around the store—a habit you’d picked up recently without fully realizing it. Your shoulders tensed, the faint prickling sensation at the back of your neck making you feel exposed. It was probably nothing, you told yourself, trying to brush it off.
Kira tossed a carton of eggs into the basket and turned to you with a raised brow. “Anything else?”
Her voice startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, before grabbing a bag of chips from a nearby rack and a pack of chocolate-covered pretzels from the next shelf over.
“Alright, ready!” you chirped.
The cashier rang up your items without much fuss, and soon you were both on your way. But as the store door clicked shut behind you, that sense of discomfort returned. You glanced over your shoulder, your movements slow and deliberate, as if any sudden motion might draw unwanted attention.
Your eyes darted to the empty street ahead, scanning the familiar buildings and darkened windows. It looked deserted, but the nagging feeling told you otherwise.
“You okay?” Kira asked, noticing your hesitation.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, the word tumbling out a little too fast. You forced a smile, hoping it looked convincing.
You told yourself it was nothing, a stray thought feeding your paranoia. But as you turned the corner toward your apartment, your worst fears materialized. A shadow detached itself from the side of a building ahead, stepping into the weak glow of the nearest streetlamp. Your stomach dropped, and your chest tightened when you noticed the glint of the knife in hand.
“Y/N.”
Your stalker. Your former nanny.
Kira froze beside you, her posture immediately tense. Her free hand twitched toward her phone, but her other gripped your arm tightly, as if anchoring you in place. You shook her off with a small, almost imperceptible gesture, your lips moving silently to form the words: Call San.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t argue. She stepped back, her movements careful as she pulled her phone from her pocket.
“Hey…mom,” you said, your voice trembling but just steady enough to hold its own. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but it was all you could think of to buy yourself time.
The woman’s head tilted, her expression softening into something disturbingly tender. “Oh, my sweet Y/N,” she cooed, taking a step closer.
“I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long,” she continued. “You’ve grown so much. You’re even more beautiful than I imagined.”
The delusion in her voice sent ice down your spine. She didn’t just see you as a person. You were a possession—something she believed she owned.
“It’s been a while,” you said cautiously, keeping your tone light, though your hands trembled at your sides.
“What…what are you doing here?”
“I’ve come to take you home!”
“Right…home,” you repeated, your stomach churning at the word. You took a step back, careful to keep your movements slow and nonthreatening.
“Why don’t we go for a walk and catch up? I just ate, and walking helps with digestion. Did you know that?”
The woman blinked, her head tilting further to the side. For a moment, she seemed caught off guard by the suggestion.
“A walk?” she echoed, suspicion flickering across her face before fading into hesitant curiosity. “You want to spend time with me?”
You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “O-Of course! I mean, it’s been so long, right? We have so much to talk about.”
Behind you, Kira moved as quietly as possible, her phone pressed to her ear as she whispered into the receiver. The nanny walked ahead, still clutching the knife tightly in her hand as your figures disappeared into the darkness.
⋆
Mingi paced restlessly around the penthouse, his claws clicking softly against the floor. His tail flicked with agitation, and his ears twitched, straining to catch a sound that wasn’t there. Something felt wrong—deeply, inexplicably wrong. You were only supposed to be gone with Kira for five minutes.
But those five minutes had turned to an hour.
The door to the penthouse slammed open, and Jongho burst inside, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. His face was pale and his brow furrowed deeply as he listened to the voice on the other end.
“Yes, I’m here now,” he said hurriedly, his tone clipped and tense. Mingi froze mid-step, his ears flicking forward as Jongho’s words sank in. Looking for you? His heart dropped. Did something happen to you?
“I’ll stay here in case she comes back. Yes, San and Kira are out looking for her along with law enforcement.”
Mingi’s nose twitched, catching the faint remnants of Jongho’s scent. There was something else mingled with it—the sharp tang of fear. A shiver ran down his spine. Jongho wasn’t scared for himself; he was scared for you.
In his frenzy, Jongho forgot to shut the door completely. It clicked behind him, but the latch didn’t catch, leaving it slightly ajar as he retreated further into the penthouse.
Mingi knew you were most definitely scared, but were relying on your wit to keep your abductor as distracted for as long as possible. But it could only go so far. You needed help. You needed him.
He darted after Jongho, letting out a short, sharp yip that made him turn with a frown.
“Maro?” Jongho’s brow furrowed in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
Mingi barked again, more insistent this time. He jumped in place, then headbutted Jongho's leg with surprising force, urging him toward the hallway. When Jongho still didn’t move, Mingi let out a sharp yip, trotted to the door, and paused to bark over his shoulder. Come on, follow me!
Out in the hallway, Mingi’s incessant barking continued until Jongho relented, reaching out to push the call button for the elevator.
Jongho stared down at the little dog, confusion etched across his face. “Why are you so interested in the elevator?”
Mingi stayed silent in an attempt to get this timing right. Then, as soon as the doors began to close, he darted forward, squeezing inside at the last second. Jongho blinked, momentarily stunned, before the realization hit him.
“I just…got played by a dog.”
Outside, Mingi paused just long enough to pick up your scent on the breeze. Darting forward, Mingi weaved through the bustling crowd, his small frame slipping unnoticed between legs and around obstacles. His nose twitched, staying locked on the trail, as he took off into the night with the promise of finding you
“I’m coming,” he whispered under his breath, to keep himself moving. His legs burned, and his lungs ached, but he didn’t stop.
Your nanny stood a few feet away, as you guided her to a nearby park. Her body taut with a kind of unnatural stillness. Her expression was deceptively calm, but her eyes gleamed with something unhinged.
“How have you been? You’re married right? I see the ring on your finger.”
Your fingers twitched involuntarily, brushing against the cool platinum of your wedding band. It felt heavier than usual under her scrutinizing gaze. “I am,” you replied, keeping your tone calm and steady despite the way your stomach churned.
“Almost three years now.”
“Three years? That’s wonderful. What’s your husband like? Oh, I’d love to meet him!”
“Unfortunately, he’s on a business trip overseas. B-But when he comes back, maybe we could have dinner.”
Her smile stretched impossibly wider, her eyes glinting with a strange light as she clasped her hands together. “Dinner? Oh, how wonderful! Just like old times!”
“Y-Yeah, just like old times. You, me, um, Mingi and…dad.”
“Dad?” she echoed, her voice hollow and strained. “Your father?”
The moment the word "Dad" left your lips, her expression darkened and her grip on the knife tightened, turning her knuckles white as the blade trembled in her hand.
“No! Not him! Not while he’s married to that bitch!” she spat venomously.
“You know, his wife didn’t love you like I did! She didn’t raise you! She wasn’t there for you!”
Her face twisted with fury, her voice rising as she screamed. “She left you behind! Do you remember that? Do you? She didn’t care about you! She abandoned you—threw you away like trash! But me? I stayed. I cared. I’m your family!”
Mingi’s ears perked up at the sound of that voice. It was her—the same woman who had tried to abduct Yena weeks ago. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but he forced his down, shifting his focus to the sights and sounds around him. In the distance, he caught fragments of Kira’s raised voice, as she argued with the District Attorney.
“She should never have been released!”
“Her delusions weren’t just untreated, they were escalating. And instead of following protocol, the facility discharged her prematurely without an appropriate plan in place.”
Mingi’s ears flicked toward the sound as Kira’s voice grew louder, her pace quickening.
“The ruling was explicit! The family was to be notified of any changes in her care plan. But no one was! And now she’s out here, putting Y/N in danger!”
The echoes of Kira’s tirade faded into the background as Mingi tuned everything else out, his focus narrowing to a single goal. Find you. Protect you.
She won’t hurt you. I won’t let her, he promised.
You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you searched for the right words to diffuse the situation. “You’re right,” you said gently, taking a slow step forward as your eyes stayed locked on the blade.
“I should’ve done more to stay in touch. You were important to me, and I didn’t show that the way I should have.”
Mingi crept closer, staying low and moving with careful precision. His small frame blended with the shadows cast by the trees, his paws silent against the ground. His ears were pinned back as he watched the stalker. For a split second, her grip on the knife faltered. Her expression softened, dimming into something more fragile, almost childlike.
But then her face contorted again. “You’re lying!” she screamed, taking a step toward you.
“You don’t mean that! You’re just saying that to make me go away.” She took a step closer, the knife jerking with her erratic movements.
His nose twitched, catching the faint scent of your fear mingled with her unbridled rage. Her emotions were spiraling out of control, and with every step she took, the gap between you and danger grew smaller.
“I’m not,” you said firmly, taking a careful step backwards.
“I mean it. You were there for me when I needed someone, and I want to be here for you now. But I can’t do that if you don’t trust me.”
She hesitated, the knife wavering slightly in her grip. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, and for a fleeting moment, it seemed like your words might be getting through.
Mingi inched closer, his eyes tracking her trembling hand, and his body tensed, ready to spring.
“You’ll leave me again! Just like her!”
That was his cue. With a burst of speed, Mingi darted forward, his small body a blur of motion. His sharp teeth clamped down on her ankle, eliciting a startled cry. She stumbled, but her fury only intensified. She lashed out blindly, her hand sweeping through the air, the knife flashing dangerously.
“Maro!” you screamed.
Without hesitation, you lunged forward, your heart pounding as you reached for her wrist. Your grip was firm, fueled by adrenaline and sheer determination as you kicked her back, sending her stumbling slightly. With a swift motion, you scooped Mingi into your arms, cradling him against your chest.
As she steadied herself, her arm swung wildly and you raised your arm to shield Mingi. The knife sliced through your forearm leaving streaks of blood, but you didn’t let go, tightened your hold on him as you focused on the woman in front of you.
“I’m sorry you lost your daughter,” you began, your tone water as you tried to bite back the pain radiating down your arm.
“I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been carrying, or how much it’s changed you. I’m sure whatever happened broke you in ways no one can see. But trying to replace her won’t bring her back.”
You could see the tears threatening to spill over, but they did nothing to soften her. If anything, they seemed to fuel her anger. Her grip on the knife tightened as she took a shaky step toward you. Your heart pounded and Mingi whimpered softly, pressing his small body closer to yours, and you instinctively held him tighter, bracing yourself.
“Police! Drop your weapon!”
“Y/N!” your dad’s voice rang out. You turned your head just enough to see him running toward you, San and Kira close behind, flanked by a group of police officers.
The stalker froze, her head snapping toward the source of the commotion. Her grip on the knife faltered, and for a split second, you thought she might comply. But then her face contorted with fury once more, and she tightened her hold, her body tensing as if preparing to lunge.
“Stay back!” she screamed, her voice shrill and panicked.
The officers fanned out, their weapons drawn, their voices calm but firm as they repeated their commands. “Drop the knife! Put it down now!”
Your dad reached you first, his hand gripping your shoulder as he stepped slightly in front of you. “Are you hurt?” he asked urgently, his sharp eyes taking in the blood streaking down your arm and the puppy trembling in your hold.
“She cut me,” you admitted, glancing at the blood streaking down your arm. “It’s not deep, but—” You shifted Mingi slightly in your hold, cradling him closer.
Mingi let out a soft, sleepy sigh, his head resting heavily against your chest as your dad checked you over. His breaths came slower now, each one softer than the last. His little paws twitched as though he were trying to cling to you.
His mind wandered, a hazy string of thoughts pulling him along. He couldn’t wait to go home, to finally feel safe and warm. He imagined curling up in your lap, nuzzling into your arms while you stroked his fur. He thought about Hetmon and all the running around they’re going to do at the park.
Oh, and snacks, he thought sleepily. Lots of snacks. His little tail gave a faint twitch at the thought, but even that felt like too much effort now.
Just a nap, he thought. I’ll rest for a bit, then we’ll go home. We’ll be okay.
When Mingi woke, the air around him was...different. It wasn’t the plush sheets of your bed or the soft pillow he’d grown accustomed to sleeping on. Instead, he found himself in a small, cozy basket lined with a soft cushion, placed near a gently crackling fireplace.
He blinked, his vision adjusting to the soft light streaming through the windows of a small cottage. The space was intimate, with wooden walls lined with shelves overflowing with books, plants, and stacks of parchment. The scent of tea and ink hung in the air, faint but familiar, tugging at something deep in Mingi’s memory.
The atmosphere was comforting, nostalgic even, though Mingi couldn’t quite place why.
“Ah,” the man said, his lips curling into a soft smile. “You’re finally awake.”
Mingi’s ears perked up as he turned toward the sound. A man crouched next to him–his features were sharp but his expression was soft and kind. Mingi tilted his head, his ears twitching as he studied the man. He’d never met him before, but his scent was unmistakable.
It was audacious and bold, much like the jazz notes he remembered sitting on the piano back at home.
Kim Hongjoong?
<< v | vii >>
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Ahhhhh, I love it! I love it! I love it! I’m just smiling at my phone over words, but it just so sweet!
I’m now craving some italian.
Hi, congrats on 300 followers. I have a prompt request for the celebration. I would like to request a one-shot of jongseob with the prompt from sweet "smiling during kisses".
I would also like to add that the reader be gender neutral. congratulations again on 300 followers! 🎉
hihi! thank you so much for participating, and sorry for the late, hope you like it <3 ; 1k wc ; fluff ; first time writing for soeb aaaa ; and credits to my fav proofreader @sobun1est
300 followers event 🎀
You notice the light of the candles as soon as you open the door of your house, taking the first step inside your apartment.
“I’m home!” you said.
Shortly after, called by your voice, you noticed Jongseob coming out of his room to come and welcome you.
That day was your anniversary; one year had passed since you had confessed your tender love and the "roommate" label had turned into lovers. You had just returned from the small pastry shop where you worked in the afternoons to save up for your studies, and with you, you had a large plastic bag containing your boyfriend’s favorite cake.
Although neither of you was swimming in gold, you were happy with your flat. So you gradually decorated it and created a small home with all the amenities you could want.
“Welcome back, honey” he said to you, coming closer to steal a kiss from you and helping with the bags.
While he went to put the cake in the refrigerator you moved towards the small room, from where a soft light came.
As soon as you entered, you noticed that many candles were placed throughout the room, and in the center, there was a carefully set table. The window was wide open, and the view was of the city illuminated by the few lights of the night.
On the table there were two glasses, and next to them a bottle of your favorite wine. The plates had light red and gold decorations, and the tablecloth and napkins followed that theme.
There was also your record player, who carefully selected the records that had accompanied your evenings throughout that year.
“Do you remember our first date?” the boy asked you as he entered the room.
“When we shared pizza, sitting on this sofa while we tried to guess about the lives of the passers-by under this balcony? How could I forget?” you asked him.
He nodded and moved in your direction, seemingly unable to resist his desire to be by you.
He took your face in his hands and soon joined your lips in a long kiss.
“How about we create a remix, maybe with a slight upgrade?” he asked you, looking you directly in the eyes.
“I would love it,” he replied, smiling.
Everything at that moment brought back memories of the first date, when after a year of living together, since you attended the same university, that boy had come forward to ask you to be together.
“Happy anniversary Seob”
“You too, love” he replied.
During your first date, while you were waiting for the food to come, the two of you sat on the couch. You could only gaze lovingly at Jongseob's slim physique as he was focused on the task at hand—he had stood up to begin the vinyl recordings.
During the first date, you were waiting for the pizza to be delivered, while now you were waiting for the lasagna - entirely cooked by Jongseob - to cook in the oven!
You had once expressed how much you would have liked to taste Italian food, so that's why he chose it for dinner.
He had carefully chosen the order of the music records to listen to, as he had presented them to you during your year together.
To ensure that everything looked its best in your eyes, he had even asked his mother to lend him some of the dish set that she had used for her wedding.
He had discovered your favorite flavor in candles, and in his pocket, he had a crumpled piece of paper with a short poem that he wanted to recite to you.
Now he was sitting next to you on the couch and was following the moves of the first date step by step. He had counted how many times your eyes had crossed, but like the first time, he had gotten lost in your eyes and had opted for a more direct approach.
He had turned to you while you were watching him the whole time - noticing how his face was bright and how he had changed in a year. You vividly remembered all the features of his face and how his expression had gone from full concentration to complete disorientation as soon as he had looked at you.
And now everything was happening again: your eyes had met, and the butterflies in your stomach had started to dance.
He had soon come dangerously close and had canceled the distances. Neither of you could hold back a smile, remembering your first kiss while you were living the umpteenth. Many quick kisses alternated with passionate ones while your bodies also got closer.
You took a brief break to let out some lovely laughs that blended in with the background music like they were the melody itself.
Smiles between the kisses, comforting scents, and the warmth of the bodies that united.
He had moved his hand from behind your neck to your hips- oh how he had become bolder.
You were facing him and found it difficult to keep your eyes closed, so now and again when he drew you away, you gave him a tiny peek.
You loved so much seeing that boy's face up close.
With an awkward and hesitant smile, he looked so attractive with the candles lighting him.
The first time you had been interrupted by the arrival of the delivery boy, while this time by a strange burning smell that began to spread from the kitchen.
As soon as it hit your boyfriend's nostrils, his eyes widened and he suddenly stood up.
"THE LASAGNA!" he said as he ran towards the kitchen.
You giggled as you moved to go and check it out too.
As soon as you arrived in the kitchen you saw him wearing two pink skates and an apron of the same color, as he took the lasagna out of the oven. He hadn't even taken the time to turn on the light, the light of the candles was enough; but he had chosen to wear the apron to avoid dirtying the outfit he had worked on to impress you.
Luckily the lasagna wasn’t burnt, but on the contrary, it had acquired a light crunchy crust that had made that dish even better.
You found yourselves shortly after at the table, savoring that delicious food while you remembered the times gone by, shared moments of the present, and fantasized about future experiences.
First chapter and I already love it! Excited for the next part! <3
| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter One
Mafia!Ot8!Ateez x Female!Reader
Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.
Warnings for this chapter: Slight Parental Abuse, kidnapping, mental breakdown, MDNI
My Thankful Help: @potatomountain @kitten4sannie @rems-writing
WC: 1.7k
AU: Mafia
Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork
AN: This chapter is under 2k because as I said, the first chapter would be short.
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“Dad, please, this is all I have left!” Y/N’s dad didn’t care, he snatched the few bills she clenched in her palms, then shoved her to the floor.
“I don’t care. I need it more, you brat.”
Her father left her on the cold hard floor without another thought as he exited her home.
This all started five years ago, when her mother died and her father became a huge gambling addict. Every bit of death insurance money that was left for their daughter was stolen by the father for excessive spending.
Whatever, his ass can forget it.
Y/N had to return to work if she wanted to keep her home, rent and bills were definitely no joke. With a sigh and groan, she grabbed her apron and hat. As much as she hated her customers, she had a good job. It paid well and gave her a nice home: small, but nice. The best part is that it’s away from her fathers run down house.
Oh the family home..it used to be so beautiful. Y/N’s mother always kept it so extravagant and beautiful, her father actually built it for her mother. Alas, once she died, Y/N’s dad let it fall into disrepair. Holes in the floor, broken windows, no working appliances. It truly was just, not hospitable in any way shape or form.
The walk to the car was miserable, with her pockets robbed of the last cash she had, her bank account stripped clean of its currency. Y/N hated her father in these final minutes to her car, “Piece of shit, hate his ass.”
Her car struggled to start, pissing her off even more. Her hands smacked against the steering wheel and she let out an agonizing scream. Tears streamed down her face that signified her further frustration. Why? Why not was her life like this? Y/N stepped out of her car with a slam of the door. Bus transposition it is. She could only count on the money she made tonight to make it back home. Her bus card only had enough for one ride.
Y/N grabbed her coat before heading back outside to the bus station, it better not be packed. Her day was already shitty and she didn’t need to be jostled around by people on the way to work.
The moment she stepped onto the bus and scanned her card, only then could she breathe a sigh of relief. There was no one on the bus which gave her momentary tranquility. A peaceful silence if you must.
After the jostling bus ride and arriving to work, Y/N prepared for a long day ahead of her. Hopefully having no shitty customers and ending the day with a good pay.
She needs it.
About six hours later, she was clocked out of work with some cash in her pocket, she had made about one hundred and twenty four dollars. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get her home and maybe something ordered to eat. Tomorrow's payment would have to go to rent no matter what. She absolutely cannot afford to be homeless.
It had turned dark outside on the way home which she didn’t mind but alas, men. She never had to worry about that but she still worried regardless.
With her home in sight, she let out another sigh of relief and stepped inside. Why was it so dark? She knows she left the lights on. She was sure she left them on. Y/N was about to bolt when hands grabbed her and the lights turned on.
Three men resided in her home entrance and she panicked, “Who the hell are you people and why are you in my home?” She tried her hardest to break away from the man’s hold, she couldn’t see what they looked like and that scared her.
A short one with orange hair pushed himself off the couch with a frown, “You’re not Mark..” His face grew cold, “Might I ask who you are instead?”
Y/N could only scowl before giving in, “I’m his daughter. What do you want with my father?”
“Well, you see, he owes us a hefty bit of money. He listed this place as his home but he’s not here. Do you know where he is?” He came face to face with the girl as he scanned her body up and down. Quite the specimen indeed, he thought.
Y/N shook her head, “Why the hell would I know where that deadbeat is? He’s nothing but trouble and continues to steal my money.”
This made the man laugh, the others stiffening.
“Oh, yeah, sounds just like him.” He thought for a moment before nodding to himself, “Well, guess we’re gonna have to take you instead! Maybe we can lure him out with you.”
Before she could protest and scream for help, something was bashed against her head and she fell to the floor in a blackout.
Time flew by quickly.
The moment she woke up, she realized she was in a cell, her body wrapped in a tight rope and her legs barred together tightly.
Y/N began to cry, of course her father would get her in this situation. What a dickweed.
A light quickly flashed into the dark room, someone stepped in.
“Oh, good. You’re awake.” The voice was monotone, “Captain wants to see you.” The sounds of keys jingling rattled her ears, swearing she had a concussion.
She was quickly yanked up and taken outside of the cell, “Do not attempt to flee, I will just shove you back in there with nothing to eat.”
Y/N gave in and let him take her upstairs. She was astonished by his beauty once they reached the light. No, no, do not think that way, she thought to herself. She was kidnapped.
She was taken to a room that was secluded from the rest, chandeliers lining the hallway as she walked, well, was forced down. Still, a beautiful place that astonished her.
Once she was shoved into the room and the door slammed behind her, only then could she look up from where she fell.
The other man stood up from his seat and helped her stand up, “I told you to be gentle, Jongho. Follow my orders next time or you know damn well what happens.”
“Yes, Hongjoong, sir, I’m sorry.” The voice spoke from behind the girl.
This guy was the boss?
“I’m Hongjoong, I’m the leader of ateez and you’re in our home. You can thank your father for that.” Hongjoong gently brought Y/N to a seat and sat her down, sending shivers down her spine.
“What do I have to do with my father? He’s not going to rescue me. He only cares about his money.” He didn’t like those words but quickly gathered his cool.
“No matter, fathers always come back if they want to escape our wrath.” Hongjoong cleared his throat before he stood up once more, “You’ll be staying with us until he makes an appearance or pays us back.”
She knew neither was going to happen. She’d be stuck here forever until the day she died.
Tears lined her eyes as she tried to fight them back, “Then you should just kill me.”
Hongjoong laughed in such a maniacal way that it scared Y/N, “I won’t be doing that either, you’re too pretty to kill. I like you.” He wasn’t sending any red flags but still, he scared Y/N.
“Fine.”
“Good girl. Jongho, take her to the room I had prepared and have the maids clean her up and feed her.” With a wave of his hand, Y/N was back to being yanked around, “Be gentle, dammit!” His fist smacked against the desk and Jongho was frightened once more, being more careful than he had before.
When the two of them were out of sight, Jongho was harsh once again, “I don’t like you. I don’t see why Captain has such an interest in you, I would’ve just killed you if I was in his position.”
Y/N couldn’t say anything, she was too scared, too afraid to die in all honesty. She could only wonder what would happen to her home, her job, everything she had. Would she just be reported as missing? What would happen? Would anyone even care?
“You’ll be staying in here.” She was shoved into a room once again but maids rushed to her this time, helping her to the bed, almost as if they were also afraid of Hongjoong.
She didn’t blame them.
Y/N didn’t even fight back, she let them undress her, too hollow of shell at the moment. They led her to a prepared bath, it was..big. Too big.
They helped her inside and began washing her body before she shouted, “I can do it myself, thank you.” The maids didn’t scamper off unfortunately.
“We’re so sorry, but Mr Kim wants us doing this. We have to.” They spoke with such a frightening tone, almost as if they were gonna get their heads chopped off on a stand.
They scrubbed her body with such ease and care, not wanting to hurt the girl. Too scared to do so. Then again, they haven’t had another girl in the house in so long. It was nice.
Once they were done, they had her step out, drying and dressing her in a gown. Something she normally would never wear, alas she has no choice unfortunately. If this is what the man wanted her to wear then so be it.
The several maids took their leave for a moment and Y/N took that as her chance to escape. She bolted out of the bathroom, out of the room, then into the hallway. Her heavy breaths carried her in a panic, but what she didn’t expect was to run in a hard chest.
Y/N screamed in defeat as they grabbed her tight. She recognized the hold as the person who captured her home.
“Just where do you think you’re going?” The voice snickered in such a mimicking tone, “Mm, captain is gonna love to hear about this.”
Y/N stared up into his eyes, yet another beautiful man and this one was definitely tall.
“You do look delicious.” However, he shrugged and dragged her back into the room, “I’m Mingi, though, next time you try to escape, I won’t be so lenient.” The door was slammed as Mingi left her in the cold and dark room once more.
Y/N could only cry as she came to the conclusion she was never leaving this place.
Ever.
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