The Moment Between Hongjoong And Reader About Reader’s Brother Was Really Sweet, But I Can’t Help

me typing out in every chapter that I hate any character that is just trying to ruin reader and hongjoong’s relationship isn’t enough…I need a weapon of massive destruction because what the fuck?!?

I’m not figuratively losing my mind. I am literally losing my mind. The more I read the worst it just gets like I need them to just talk and stop saying things to make things worse when you got three different people jumping to ruin your life.

I need reader and hongjoong to talk and make up, not just kiss or avoid cause I can’t. I already know that something else is gonna happen next chapter.

I enjoyed the chapter despite me losing my mind while reading it, keep up the amazing work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆09: The first heartbreak.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 10k

Summary: Jealousy lingers, tension rises, and the distance grows. Words are left usnsaid, excuses pile up, emotions spiral pit of control, and one thing becomes clear...

Some things, once broken, can never be the same.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, insecurities, verbal fights, violence, Hongjoong being possessive, Seonghwa being an asshole, and Mike being Mike.

Series masterlist Taglist

☆08 ☆10: The first wound. Coming soon.

It’s been a week.

A week of Hongjoong treating you just the same. He still kisses you good morning when he sees you, still takes your hand in his like it belongs there, still calls you pretty in that soft, teasing tone that makes your stomach flutter.

And yet—

Every time you ask him to hang out after school, he gives you the same answer.

"I can't, I'm busy."

"Not today, maybe later."

"I'll make it up to you, pretty. I promise."

It’s starting to feel strange.

At first, you brushed it off. Hongjoong wasn’t the type to reject you. He’d always been eager to be around you, eager to do anything you wanted. But now, it’s been a whole week since you’ve spent any time alone after school.

And not just you—other people have noticed it too.

"Okay, what’s up with Hongjoong, babe?" Mindy asks as you walk down the hallway between classes.

You raise an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

Samantha gives you a look "He’s been all over you during school, but the second you ask him to do something after, he bails. That’s weird."

You tense, because that’s exactly what you’ve been thinking. But hearing someone else say it?

It makes your stomach twist.

"You don’t think…" Wooyoung hesitates beside you, lowering his voice "You don’t think the rumor is true, do you?"

You stop walking, slowly turn to face them.

"That’s ridiculous."

Sam shrugs "I mean… is it?"

Woo lifts his hands in surrender "We’re just saying, babydoll—if he really likes you, why does he keep avoiding you outside of school?"

Your grip on your bag tightens. Because you've been asking yourself the same thing.

If Hongjoong really just wanted to sleep with you and leave, then why does he still act like this?

Why does he still kiss you so sweetly?

Why does he still hold your hand like it means something?

Why does he still look at you like you’re the only thing that matters? And then avoid you the moment the bell rings?

You hate that this stupid rumor is getting to you. You hate that you’re even considering it.

But doubt has already settled into your chest like a cold, unwelcome weight. And you have a feeling it’s not going away anytime soon.

During lunch, you sit alone at your usual table, waiting for your friends and Hongjoong to join you after you skipped class.

The cafeteria is buzzing with noise when you feel someone slide into the seat beside you.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

You don’t need to look to know who it is.

Seonghwa.

You exhale sharply, eyes still glued to your untouched lunch.

"I'm fine."

"Well, you don’t look fine."

You finally turn your head to him. He’s giving you that soft, concerned expression—the one that used to mean something before you learned how easily he could lie through his teeth.

"I’m just tired, Hwa." You mutter.

Seonghwa hums, resting his chin on his palm "Is it because of Hongjoong?"

You tense "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

He chuckles, low and knowing "Come on, Clarke. People are talking. He’s all over you in school, but the moment you ask for his time, he disappears? That’s not normal."

You swallow the lump in your throat "He’s just busy."

Hwa tilts his head, studying you "And you believe that?"

A sharp breath escapes you "You know what, Park? You’re annoying as fuck."

He smirks "Maybe. But I’m also right."

You glare at him.

"You know," He continues, picking at a fry from your tray "For a second, I thought maybe that nerd really liked you. But now? I don’t know, doll. It kind of seems like he got what he wanted and dipped."

Your blood turns cold.

He leans in, voice just above a whisper "And if that’s the case… I hate to say it, baby, but you got played."

You shove your tray forward, standing so abruptly your chair screeches against the floor.

"Go fuck yourself, Seonghwa."

You don’t wait for his response before storming off.

But his words stick to you like poison.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The dining room is silent, except for the quiet clinking of silverware against porcelain plates. The long table is set perfectly, as always—white candles flickering, an expensive floral centerpiece in the middle, the warm glow of the chandelier above casting soft shadows across the polished wood.

You aren't really hungry.

Your mind is elsewhere, your appetite dulled by the same thought that’s been gnawing at you all day.

Hongjoong is avoiding you.

‘If he really likes you, why does he keep avoiding you outside of school?’

‘I hate to say it, babe, but you got played.’

Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s words echo in your mind like a curse, sinking into every doubt you tried to suppress.

"Sweetie," Your mother’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up, blinking, to find your mother watching you carefully over her wine glass "How’s Hongjoong?" She asks casually before taking a sip.

"He 's fine."

Your mother hums "He hasn’t come over in a while. I assumed you two were spending all your time together."

You force a smile "He’s just been busy."

At the other end of the table, Mike lets out a quiet chuckle.

Your entire body tenses, you don't have to look at him to feel the amusement radiating off of him.

"Busy?" Mike repeats, voice dripping with mockery "That’s an interesting choice of words."

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Mike leans back in his chair, spinning his wine glass between his fingers lazily.

"I don’t know. Just seems odd, doesn’t it?" He glances at their mother “Hongjoong’s been practically obsessed with you, and now, after finally getting what he wanted, he’s suddenly too busy?"

Your grip on her fork tightens.

Why the fuck is everyone saying the same?

Assuming that Hongjoong will leave you after getting what he wanted… but what did he get?

Your attention, designer clothes, your heart, sex?

What?

"Mike," Your father warns, but there’s no real weight to it. He’s curious, too.

Mike smirks, tilting his head as he looks at you "It makes me wonder—was it really about you, or just about what you could give him?"

Your chest tightens. You hate that his words hit a nerve because you agreed to help Hongjoong become popular.

You told him you’d make him into someone that people would admire, someone who belonged at the top.

But now—things were different.

Hongjoong wasn’t just someone you were molding anymore. You were starting something real.

At least… you thought you were.

Mike watches you carefully, his smirk widening like he can see the doubt creeping into you.

"Don’t look so upset, YN. It’s nothing personal." He takes a slow sip of wine, then adds, "It’s just how people like him work."

You set the fork down with more force than necessary.

"People like him?"

He shrugs "Poor, desperate, climbers."

Your blood boils at the way he says it "Joong isn’t like that." You snap.

Mike raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your reaction.

"No?" He gestures toward you "Then why hasn’t he made time for you?"

You don't answer because you don't know. You want to believe that Hongjoong is just busy. That there’s an explanation for all of this.

But with Mike’s voice slithering into your head, twisting your insecurities like a knife, you feel something dangerous take root inside you…

Doubt.

✮ ⋆

The night air is crisp when you step onto the balcony outside your room. The estate’s vast garden stretches below, bathed in moonlight, but you barely notice.

Your mind is somewhere else.

Mike’s words still linger, pressing against your chest like a weight you can’t shake off.

You pull out your phone. Your thumb hovers over Hongjoong’s chat.

You want to ask. Where have you been? Why don’t you want to see me after school? But the words won’t come.

Instead, you type something simpler.

YN♡: Hey, are you awake?

It takes a minute before he replies.

Joongie♡: Yeah. What’s up, pretty?

You exhale. He answers your texts just as quickly as always. So why does it feel like something is wrong?

YN♡: I just wanted to talk with you.

A second later, your phone vibrates with an incoming call.

You hesitate—just for a moment—before answering.

“Hi, pretty.” Hongjoong’s voice is warm, soft. The way it always is when he talks to you.

You lean against the balcony railing, closing your eyes.

“Hi.”

“Why are you up so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He chuckles “Touché.”

There’s a small pause, filled only by the sound of his breathing. Normally, you’d find it comforting. Tonight, it just makes the space between you feel bigger.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks.

You could ask. You should ask. But something stops you.

Because if he lies—if he feeds you some excuse—you’re not sure you can handle it.

So instead, you say, “Yeah. Just couldn’t sleep.”

Hongjoong hums not convinced “Want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at your lips “What are you, my personal audiobook now?”

“Hey, I’d make a great one,” He teases “You could fall asleep to the sound of my voice every night.”

Your smile falters. He says things like this so easily. Like nothing’s wrong.

Like he’s not avoiding you.

You grip the phone tighter “Joong.”

“Yes, pretty?”

You open your mouth. Then—A distant voice echoes through the speaker. A girl’s voice.

“Kim, can you help me?!”

Your heart stops, fingers tighten around the phone as you process what you just heard.

He isn’t home.

He isn’t alone.

Your mind spins. It’s late—why is there a girl with him this late? Where is he?

Hongjoong’s voice comes back, a little hurried “Uh—yeah, give me a sec! YN?” He says, like he’s waiting for you to say something.

But you force yourself to sound normal “You should go.”

There’s a pause “Are you sure?”

You swallow past the lump in your throat “Yeah. Goodnight, Hongjoong.”

“…Goodnight, pretty.”

You hang up before you can second-guess it.

Your phone drops to your side, knuckles white as you grip it.

For the first time since the rumor started, you feel something snap inside you.

And this time… you don't know if you can ignore it.

✮ ⋆

Hongjoong puts his phone beside him, exhaling as he leans against the counter. His conversation with you lingers in his mind, the edge in your voice making his stomach twist. He hates lying to you.

But what other choice does he have?

As he grabs a clean glass, Jina, his coworker, walks up to the counter, wiping down a tray. Her long brown hair is tied back in a loose ponytail, her uniform slightly adjusted to fit her style.

She glances over at him, eyes flicking to his phone resting on the counter.

For a brief moment, she pauses. Then, she leans in a little closer, noticing the wallpaper on his phone—an image of a gorgeous girl. This girl looks effortlessly perfect, radiating confidence and beauty, the kind of girl who seems out of place in Hongjoong's world.

Hongjoong’s worn-out, baggy clothes, glasses and his simple, grounded life don't compare to the polished, glamorous figure staring back from his screen.

Jina raises an eyebrow, has she seen that girl before or is she mistaking her for someone else?

She shrugs, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips "Who's that?" She asks casually, her voice light, but there's a hint of curiosity.

Hongjoong tenses slightly, not expecting her to notice and not wanting to share his private life.

“She 's YN.”

Jina tilts her head slightly, the smirk on her lips not fading.

"YN, huh?" She repeats, swirling the rag in her hands before tossing it onto the tray "Didn’t take you for the type to go for a girl like that."

Hongjoong frowns, glancing at her "Like what?"

She shrugs, turning to grab a fresh glass from the shelf, her movements slow, deliberate.

"You know…" Her voice is laced with something unreadable, something almost amused. "The kind of girl who looks like she belongs in a magazine. All dolled up, walking like the world owes her something. The kind of girl who—" She pauses, tapping her nails against the glass before giving him a quick, sideways glance "—doesn’t usually go for guys like you."

His jaw clenches. He shouldn’t let it get to him, but the way she says it, like it’s a fact written in stone, makes his chest tighten.

"You don’t know her."

Jina hums, as if considering that, before flashing him a small, knowing smile

"Maybe. But I know her type."

Hongjoong doesn’t answer. He doesn’t trust himself too. Because deep down, buried under everything, isn’t that the same doubt that’s been creeping into his own thoughts?

That you are too good, too untouchable, too far from his reality?

Hongjoong frowns, not liking her tone “She’s not like that.”

Jina laughs under her breath, shaking her head “Come on, Kim. Girls like her don’t go for guys like you unless they’re bored.”

His grip on the glass tightens, a flicker of irritation sparking in his chest.

“Again, you don’t know her.”

“Maybe not,” Jina says again, feigning innocence as she picks up another tray, wiping it down slowly “But I do know how girls like that work. They play with people, keep them around as long as it’s entertaining, then drop them the second they get tired. It’s all just a game to them.”

Hongjoong exhales sharply, shaking his head “YN isn’t like that,” He insists, but there’s a tightness in his throat, a sliver of doubt trying to creep in.

Jina shrugs, unbothered “Is your girlfriend or why are you defending her so much?” She asks, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Hongjoong hesitates before answering "Not exactly," He admits, trying to keep it vague. "We're... something."

She snorts softly, setting the tray down with a thud "Something? Sounds complicated."

He shrugs, pretending not to care "It's not."

Jina steps a little closer, leaning her hip against the counter beside him.

"Let me guess," She says, crossing her arms and eyeing him carefully "She likes the idea of you, but not the reality of you. You know, the type that wants the thrill of the ‘nerd having a crush over a pretty girl’ fantasy but would never actually stick around once the excitement fades."

Hongjoong's frown deepens, his grip tightening slightly on the glass.

"That's not true, Jina." He says, his voice firm, but there's a subtle crack in his confidence.

Jina chuckles softly, looking back at the wallpaper one more time.

"I don't know," She says, tapping her finger against the counter "But from the looks of it, seems like the kind of girl who wouldn’t stick around for long. And guys like you, working here every day, still stuck in the same routine while she’s off in her perfect little world... Doesn't exactly scream 'serious relationship,' does it?"

His jaw tightens, the sting of her words settling deep inside him.

"It's not like that."

"Mmm." She hums again, unconvinced "Whatever you say, Kim. But if I were you, I'd be careful. Girls like YN? They love the idea of being with someone different—until they don’t. And when they’re done playing? They move on like you never existed."

Hongjoong swallows hard, trying to push down the creeping doubt. He doesn't believe that about you. He knows you care about him. But the nagging thought, planted by Jina's words, continues to worm its way into his mind.

Noticing his silence, Jina gives him one last look, her eyes flicking back to his phone screen.

"Well," She adds with a knowing smile "It looks like she's the kind of girl who's way out of your league. The relationship between a girl like her and a guy like you—it's almost a joke."

Hongjoong feels a flush of heat rise to his cheeks, but he quickly forces a chuckle, pretending her words don't affect him.

"You don't even know her." He mutters, trying to deflect.

Jina just shrugs with a smirk "I don't need to know her. I can tell for the way she looks." She tosses the cloth she was holding onto the counter and stretches, clearly pleased with herself.

"Anyway, you should let me know if you ever get tired of being her little experiment."

But there’s something knowing in her eyes, something unreadable in her smirk as she steps away, leaving Hongjoong alone with his thoughts.

And for the first time in a long time, he feels unsettled.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The school hallways buzz with energy, students laughing, gossiping, moving in clusters between classes. Hongjoong walks through the crowd, hands shoved into his pockets, his backpack hanging off one shoulder.

He’s exhausted—his body still adjusting to the extra hours at work, the sleepless nights, the weight of hiding it all from you.

But then, he sees you. And his exhaustion is momentarily forgotten.

You’re leaning against your locker, laughing, your head tilted slightly back. The kind of laugh that makes your eyes shine, the kind that used to be reserved for only him. But it’s not him making you laugh.

It 's Park Seonghwa.

He’s standing close—too close. One hand resting on the locker beside your head, his body angled toward you with that effortless confidence, like he knows he belongs there.

He says something, and you roll your eyes, but there’s a smirk on your lips, the kind that invites more teasing.

Hongjoong watches as Seonghwa reaches out, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The touch lingers, casual yet intimate.

Familiar.

His stomach tightens. Jina’s voice echoes in his mind: ‘The kind of girl who doesn’t usually go for guys like you.’

He clenches his fists.

This isn’t new. This is how things were before—before he became anything more than the nerd who followed you around like a lost puppy. Before he touched you, kissed you, had you beneath him, whispering his name like he was your whole world.

But looking at you now, he wonders if anything really changed.

Seonghwa grins, tilting his head as he murmurs something in your ear, his lips dangerously close to your skin. You swat his arm, laughing again, but you don’t push him away.

Hongjoong swallows hard, his throat dry.

Maybe Jina is right.

Maybe you are too good for him.

Maybe you’re just playing with him—like Seonghwa, like everyone else in your world does.

He forces himself to look away, to keep walking, to pretend he doesn’t care. But the doubt, the insecurity, the awful, twisting feeling in his chest—it stays.

He should walk away.

He should ignore the way Seonghwa leans into you, the way his hand casually lingers on your waist like it belongs there, the way you smirk at whatever teasing remark he just made.

But he can’t.

Because it’s you.

And you’re his now.

So instead of walking away, Hongjoong turns on his heel and heads straight for you.

Hwa notices him first. His smirk widens, eyes gleaming with something almost amused. He doesn’t move, doesn’t put any distance between you and him.

If anything, he shifts, just slightly—making sure Hongjoong sees exactly how close he is to you.

Hongjoong’s clenches his jaw “Hey, pretty.” His voice is casual, but there’s a possessive edge beneath it.

He slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. It’s a bold move—one he wouldn’t have dared to make before—but now?

Now, he needs to make sure Park Seonnghwa knows.

Your eyes widen in surprise, but you don’t pull away. Instead, a slow smile tugs at your lips as you glance up at him.

“Hey, Joong.”

Hongjoong presses a quick kiss to your temple, locking eyes with Seonghwa as he does it.

Hwa raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained “Well, well. Someone’s feeling brave today.”

You sigh, placing a hand on Hongjoong’s chest before this turns into something annoying.

“Stop it, Hwa.”

“What? I’m just saying.” Seonghwa tilts his head, pretending to examine Hongjoong “Didn’t know you had it in you, nerd. Guess I underestimated you.”

Hongjoong keeps his expression blank, but his grip on you tightens.

“Guess you did.”

For a moment, the tension lingers—Seonghwa’s smirk unwavering, Hongjoong standing his ground, you caught between the two of them.

And then Seonghwa just laughs. He claps Hongjoong’s shoulder like they’re best friends.

“Relax, man. I’m just messing with you.” He glances at you, his grin turning softer, more genuine “She’s all yours… for now.”

Hongjoong stiffens at the last part, but before he can say anything, Seonghwa winks at you and strolls away, hands in his pockets like he owns the damn hallway.

You sigh “You’re so easy to tease, babe.”

He ignores that “You let him touch you too much.”

You smirk “Are you jealous, Joongie?”

He scoffs, pulling you closer “I don’t like when other guys act like that with you.”

Your heart skips a beat.

Fuck.

Before you can respond, a movement catches Hongjoong’s eye. Across the hallway, standing by the lockers, Dann watches.

She looks away quickly, but not before he catches the sadness flickering across her face. She’s not smirking, not plotting, not whispering to anyone. Just standing there, staring at him like she’s watching something slip away.

Hongjoong swallows hard, guilt stirring in his chest.

But then you pull him back to you, your fingers playing with the collar of his blazer like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and just like that—he forgets all about Dann.

He watches as you tilt your head up, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“Are you jealous, Joongie?”

He should deny it. Act unbothered. Pretend Seonghwa’s hands on you didn’t make his blood boil.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he tightens his grip on your waist and leans in so his lips are just a breath away from yours.

“You’re mine, pretty.” He murmurs.

And then—he kisses you.

It’s not rushed or desperate, but there’s something firm about it, something that makes it clear to everyone watching that this isn’t just a game to him.

That you aren’t just some passing thrill like the stupid rumor says.

You hum against his lips, smiling as you kiss him back, your arms looping lazily around his neck.

And across the hallway, Dann watches.

Watches as you melt into him.

Watches as Hongjoong—her Joong, the one who used to only care about being popular, about her opinion, about their stupid, nerdy friendship—acts like nothing else matters except you.

Her hands curl into fists. She doesn’t realize she’s holding her breath until the kiss ends and you laugh, pushing Hongjoong away playfully.

That’s when she looks down.

That’s when she finally walks away.

✮ ⋆

Later, at lunch. You poke at your salad, not really eating, watching Hongjoong as he scrolls through his phone between bites.

You should be enjoying this.

A week ago, you wouldn’t have even imagined having him beside you like this—sitting so close, stealing bites from your plate, his knee brushing against yours under the table.

But something feels… off.

Because you’re always with him—except when it matters.

You exhale, setting your fork down “Wanna do something after school?”

Hongjoong barely looks up “Can’t.”

You frown “Again?”

“I’ll make it up to you, pretty,” He says, flashing that sweet, nerdy smile that used to make you melt “Promise.”

You roll your eyes, unimpressed “That’s what you said yesterday.”

Hongjoong falters “I—”

“And the day before that, and last week.” You add, tilting your head.

He swallows, clearly guilty, but still, he doesn’t explain.

Just like always.

You huff, pushing your tray aside “Forget it.”

And this time, he doesn’t have a response.

Because you both know—this isn’t just about today.

This is becoming a routine.

And you’re starting to hate it.

✮ ⋆

That afternoon your house is rarely quiet.

Too quiet.

It’s late, and you’re curled up on the living room couch, a book in your hands—one Hongjoong recommended to you weeks ago. You never planned on reading it, but now that he’s been too busy to spend time with you, you find yourself clinging to the little things that remind you of him.

Mike is here too, sitting in one of the armchairs across from you, flipping through a book of his own. For a moment, there’s peace and not the constant bickering—just the soft rustle of pages turning.

Then, it shatters.

"Darling."

Your father’s sharp voice cuts through the air. You tense, lowering the book just as he strides into the room, his phone in hand. There’s something about the way he looks at you—cold, expectant, already disappointed—that makes your stomach tighten.

"You mind explaining this?" He holds up his phone "I just received a notification that you spent five hundred thousand dollars this month, again."

Your grip on the book tightens. Your heart pounds, but your face remains unreadable. You already know what this is about.

The money you sent to someone.

But you can’t tell him that.

So, you lie. Easily. Effortlessly.

"Clothes," You say, flipping a page in your book like this conversation is beneath you "I bought some pretty things."

Your father exhales sharply, his irritation evident. "YN—"

"I am YN Clarke, am I not?" You interrupt, looking up at him with a slow, sharp smile "It would be a disgrace if I didn't spend money like one."

Your father clenches his jaw "And I'm not complaining about you spending money, just try to use it for other purposes instead of buying clothes, you already have so many, Darling and—"

"Do I have to ask permission to spend it now?" You cut in, voice smooth but icy.

Your father glares at you. Then exhales, shaking his head like you’re hopeless. Like you’re not even worth the effort.

"You act just like your mother," He mutters under his breath.

And then—

Laughter.

Slow, cruel, mocking.

Mike leans against the couch, watching with amusement.

"That’s an insult to Mother," He says, a smirk curling his lips "At least she knows when to keep her mouth shut."

Your blood runs cold.

“Mike.” Your father warns him.

You can feel Mike’s eyes on you, waiting for a reaction.

But you won’t give him one.

Not now. Not ever.

So you lean back, pick up your book again, and turn the page like nothing ever happened.

But inside?

Inside, you are burning.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You stare at your phone, fingers gripping it tightly.

No message. No call. Nothing.

Hongjoong hadn't shown up at school. Again.

The first time, he had at least texted you. But today? Silence.

You tried to ignore it. Pretend it didn’t bother you. But as the hours dragged on and your messages remained unread, irritation started brewing into something heavier—something that felt a lot like doubt.

By the time school ended, you had already made up your mind.

You got into your car and drove straight to his house.

Hongjoong was still asleep when the loud, persistent knocking dragged him out of unconsciousness.

He groans, rubbing his eyes as he reaches for his phone—only to realize it’s dead. The knocking comes again, more insistent this time.

Dragging himself out of bed, still half-dazed, he stumbles toward the door and cracks it open.

Then, he freezes.

You stand there, arms crossed, looking every bit like a queen ready to tear someone apart.

“Pretty?” His voice is groggy, confused.

You push past him into the house without waiting for an invitation.

“So you are alive,” You say flatly, glancing around the dimly lit room before turning to face him “Great. Now tell me why the hell you didn’t show up at school or bother to text me.”

Hongjoong runs a hand through his messy hair, still processing everything.

“My phone died,” He mutters “I— I was just really tired. I didn’t mean to—”

You scoff, cutting him off “Tired? That’s your excuse?”

He blinks “I mean… yeah?”

You let out a sharp laugh “Right. You were so tired that you just forgot I existed?”

His frown deepens “YN, it’s not like that—”

“Then what is it like?” You snap, stepping closer “Because lately, all you do is act sweet one second and avoid me the next.”

Hongjoong exhales, already feeling the weight of this conversation pressing down on him.

“I’m not avoiding you.”

You arch a brow “Then why haven’t we hung out in weeks? Why do you always say no when I ask you to do something? And why didn’t you at least tell me you weren’t coming to school today?”

Hongjoong clenches his jaw. He knows you are right. But the truth—the fact that he is drowning under stress, exhaustion, and the pressure of keeping his job a secret—feels too heavy to explain.

“I just have… a lot going on.” He mutters.

You fold your arms tighter “Oh, so you do have time for something. Just not for me.”

“That’s not fair, pretty…” He says, frustration creeping into his tone.

“Isn’t it?” Your voice is sharper now, hurt lacing every word “Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell looks like I was just some game to you.”

Hongjoong’s breath hitches “What?”

“Was that the plan all along? Get close to me, let me make you popular, and then just… pull away once you get what you wanted?”

His stomach twists “You don’t actually believe that rumor.”

“Then tell me what I’m supposed to believe, Hongjoong! Because I stood up for you. I risked my reputation for you. And now, when I finally feel like we are something, you start acting like this!”

He inhales sharply, his patience thinning “YN, not everything is about you!”

Silence.

The second the words left his mouth, he regretted them.

Your expression barely changes, but he sees the way your fingers twitch, the way your lips pressed together—like you had just been slapped.

You let out a bitter laugh “Right.”

Hongjoong steps forward “I didn’t mean it like that, pretty. I just—”

“No, you’re right,” You cut him off, voice eerily calm “It’s not about me. Because if it were, you’d actually trust me enough to tell me what’s going on instead of shutting me out.”

He opened his mouth, but no words came.

Because you are right.

You shake your head, taking a step back “You know what? Forget it. I’m done begging for your time.”

Hongjoong panics, reaching for your wrist “Pretty, wait—”

You yank your arm away “Don’t.”

And for the first time, you are the one walking away. You don’t slam the door when you leave, you don’t need to.

The silence you leave behind is loud enough.

When you close your car door, you grab your cell phone and open the group chat with your close friends.

YN: Let's go to our club.

YN: Take whoever you want.

✮ ⋆

The music pulses through the club, a deep, rhythmic beat that vibrates through your bones. Neon lights flash in erratic patterns, casting the room in a kaleidoscope of colors.

You tilt your head back, allowing the intoxicating energy of the night to drown out the anger and frustration that had been eating at you all day.

Screw Hongjoong. Screw everything.

You sip your drink, the alcohol warming your throat as you lean against the plush VIP lounge. Wooyoung had come through, bringing some of his friends, including Seonghwa, who sits comfortably beside you, his usual smirk firmly in place.

“You look like you need this, babydoll.” Wooyoung says, nudging your side with a grin “Forget about that idiot for a night.”

You exhale sharply, taking another sip before raising your glass in mock celebration.

“Here’s to forgetting.”

The night wore on, and the drinks kept flowing. At some point, someone passed around a joint of weed, and without thinking, you took a hit of weed.

The world softened around the edges, the beats of the music sinking deeper into your bloodstream. You laughed, tilting your head back, your body loose, your worries fading.

Seonghwa watches you carefully from the corner of his eye, sipping his drink with calculated patience.

Then, as you giggle and lean into Wooyoung’s shoulder, eyes half-lidded, he pulls out his phone. With the quick flick of his fingers, he captured a short video—You laughing, pupils blown, and the telltale smoke curling from your lips. The joint is very visible to guess what it is about.

Perfect.

Discreetly, he sent the video to Dann, along with a simple message.

P.S: Show this to Mike. He’ll know what to do.

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Hwa sat back, watching as you swayed to the music, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just outside your high.

Tonight was only the beginning.

✮ ⋆

As you stumble into the mansion, the world around you feels hazy, a lingering effect of the alcohol and whatever else you had consumed at the club. Your heels click unevenly against the polished marble floor, your head spinning slightly as you make your way up the grand staircase.

It’s late. Very late. The entire house is silent, draped in shadows. You don't even bother being quiet—your parents never wait up for you, and the staff know better than to question your comings and goings.

But the moment you push open your bedroom door, you freeze.

A figure is already inside, lounging in the chair by the vanity, bathed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp.

Mike.

Your breath catches, stomach twisting into a knot. He’s sitting with one leg crossed over the other, his fingers lazily rolling a heavy silver ring around his knuckles. His face is unreadable, but the air in the room is thick—too thick.

You swallow hard “What the hell are you doing in my room?”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he slowly lifts his phone, tilting the screen toward you. It takes a second for your vision to focus. But when it does, ice rushes through your veins.

A video. A familiar setting. The club.

You.

High out of your mind, swaying with Wooyoung and Mindy, laughing recklessly. Then the shot moves, revealing the moment you leaned back against a couch, head tipping back as you took a slow drag from a joint of weed someone had handed you.

Fuck, this is bad. Really bad.

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Mike finally speaks, his voice deceptively calm “Tell me, YN.” He tilts his head slightly, eyes dark and unreadable “Do you think our parents would be proud to see their little daughter doing this?”

Your jaw clenches, your hands curling into fists “That’s none of your business.”

Mike exhales a soft chuckle, shaking his head “Oh, but it is. Because your mess becomes my mess.” He stands, taking slow, measured steps toward you.

“You’re already a failure for our family, and now this?” He gestures to the phone “How do you think they’d react if they saw their little girl ruining her reputation like this?”

You lift your chin, masking the flicker of fear in your chest.

“Like you care about my reputation.”

His smirk drops “You’re spiraling, YN.” His voice is sharper now, colder “All because of that pathetic little loser you latched onto. And look at you now—coming home looking like trash, acting like some cheap whore.”

You flinch, your nails digging into your palms “Shut up.”

But Mike isn’t finished. He steps closer, towering over her, his presence suffocating.

“You think you can just do whatever you want? That you can embarrass this family without consequences?”

“I said shut the fuck up, Mike.”

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him “Or what?” His voice is dangerously low.

You glare at him, your body trembling with rage “Or I’ll—”

You don't get to finish.

The slap comes fast and brutal.

A sharp crack echoes through the room as your head snaps to the side. Pain explodes through your cheek, your vision blurring for a second. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth as your lip splits open, but it’s the dull, radiating ache in your cheek that stuns you.

Your breath shudders.

The rings. His heavy rings had cut deeper this time, the force of the blow enough to bruise instantly.

For a moment, silence blankets the room. You stare at the floor, breath ragged, your entire body stiff.

Mike exhales slowly, shaking out his hand as if the hit had been a mere inconvenience.

“Maybe that’ll knock some sense into you.”

You don’t move. Don’t speak. Don't let him see how much it hurts.

Because if you do, he wins.

After a moment, Mike scoffs “Fix yourself up.” He turns, walking toward the door “And stay in line, YN. You’re a fucking Clarke.”

With that, he leaves.

The door clicks shut.

Only then you allow yourself to breathe.

A shaky inhale. A trembling exhale.

Your fingers reach up, touching the stinging skin of your cheek.

And then—you laugh.

Soft.

Hollow.

Because if you don't laugh, you might start crying.

And you refuse to cry for him.

Not anymore.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The morning sun filters through your window, casting golden streaks across your sheets. You blink groggily, your head pounding from the remnants of last night. But it isn’t the hangover that makes you hesitate to move.

It 's the pain.

Your cheek throbs, the bruise deepening overnight. The gash on your lip is dry, cracked, and stings when you shift your mouth even slightly.

For a moment, you just lie there, staring at the ceiling.

You should stay in bed. Hide. Avoid everyone.

But you have an important exam today.

With a slow, careful movement, you push yourself up and drag yourself to the vanity. The moment you see your reflection, your stomach twists.

The bruise has settled into an ugly shade of deep purple and blue along your cheekbone, and the cut on your lip is impossible to ignore.

You swallow, your fingers tighten into fists before you reach for your makeup.

You layer on foundation, pressing it into the bruised skin despite the pain. But no matter how much you apply, the discoloration peeks through.

Frustrated, you grab a small adhesive bandage and place it over the worst part of your cheek, disguising it as a minor scrape. Your lip, however, is trickier. You settle for a dark shade of lipstick—anything to draw attention away from the damage.

Dressed immaculately as always, you grab your bag, sunglasses and head for the door.

Skipping breakfast is easy. Avoiding your parents? Even easier.

No one stops you as you leave.

The moment you step onto campus, all eyes are on you.

You walk with usual confidence, head high, stride controlled. But you can feel it—the way whispers ripple through the hall as students glance at the bandage on your cheek even under the sunglasses, at the way you don't quite meet anyone’s eyes.

Your friends rush to you the second you reach your locker.

"Babe, what the hell happened?" Mindy is the first to speak, her eyes wide with concern.

"Doll, did you get into a fight or something?" Another friend chimes in.

You force a small chuckle, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

"Relax, it's nothing. I tripped on the stairs at home. Hit my face on the railing like an idiot."

Some of them seem to accept it.

But Mindy doesn’t.

Her sharp eyes flick over your face, lingering on the bruise beneath the makeup, the tightness in her expression.

You know that look. Mindy isn’t buying it.

Still, she doesn’t press—not here, not in front of the others.

"Well, whoever built your staircase should be sued," Mindy jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

You force another laugh "Right? I should’ve gotten a warning sign."

The conversation moves on, shifting to gossip, plans for the weekend, anything but you. But Mindy stays close, watching you.

And from across the hall—so does Hongjoong.

He hadn’t expected to see you today after yesterday.

After your fight.

After you left, looking at him like he had broken something between them.

But here you are. And something is wrong.

Even from a distance, he can tell.

You’re quieter, your movements more controlled than usual, like you’re holding something in. And the moment he notices the bandage on your cheek, his stomach twists.

What happened to you?

Was it because of yesterday’s fight?

Did someone—

His jaw clenches, his fingers curling into fists.

He wants to go to you. Ask. Demand answers. But after everything that happened, after the things they said to each other, he hesitates.

He’s the last person you want to see right now.

So he stays where he is, watching as you disappear down the hall with your friends. Watching, and worrying.

During lunch, the room is buzzing with its usual chaotic energy, the clatter of trays and chatter filling the air. You sit at the far end of the table, Mindy by your side, but she can tell you’re not really there.

Your eyes stay trained on the empty space in front of you, your fork poking listlessly at the food.

Mindy is the one to notice him first. Hongjoong stands a few feet away, looking like he's about to approach, but frozen by the tension in the air. He shifts from foot to foot, glancing between you and your friend, obviously unsure of what to do.

Your gaze flicks to him, but you quickly look away, jaw tightening. You’re not in the mood for this, not today.

Hongjoong takes a few tentative steps forward "Hey," He starts, his voice almost too soft, like he’s testing the waters "I... I just wanted to say I'm sorry for what happened yesterday."

You don't meet his eyes. Instead, you pick at your food, pretending to be absorbed in it, but the tension around you is palpable.

He steps closer, a mix of concern and regret pulling at his features "I didn’t mean to hurt you. Whatever I said... I didn’t mean it." His voice cracks slightly on the last word, the guilt obvious "I just—"

"You don’t get it, do you?" You cut him off, voice sharp, though it trembles at the edges. Your hands fist into the napkin on your lap "You can apologize all you want, but nothing will change and you know it."

Your eyes flick to him, but it’s fleeting. You can’t bring yourself to look at him for long.

Mindy watches the exchange with a raised brow, her own discomfort starting to show. She leans in.

"Maybe we should just go...?"

Before Hongjoong can respond, you stand up abruptly, pushing the chair back with a sharp scrape.

"Get lost, nerd." You mutter, voice quiet but resolute.

Without another word, you grab your bag and start walking toward the door. Mindy follows closely behind, glancing at him with a small shake of her head, a silent apology.

Hongjoong watches them leave, his heart sinking. His fingers curl into fists, frustration and confusion surging through him. But you are already out of reach, disappearing down the hallway toward the bathroom.

The bathroom door swings shut behind them with a soft thud, and you lean against the sink, hands gripping the edge. Mindy follows you in, glancing around briefly before her eyes settle on you.

"Okay, babe. Spill it," Mindy demands, arms crossed "What the hell happened between you two?”

You sigh, a deep exhale that feels like it comes from the very core of you. You look at her reflection in the mirror.

"We had a fight yesterday." You pause, fingers running over the bandage on your cheek "I’m tired of this routine.."

Mindy raises an eyebrow "I thought you were already dating.”

You press your lips together, your gaze flicking to the floor "We’re not… at least not yet.”

Mindy softens, her arms uncrossing as she approaches you "Babe—"

“Don't want to talk about it.” You cut her off as you search for your lipstick in your purse.

Mindy chews on her lip for a moment before nodding, though the uncertainty in her expression doesn’t fade.

"Okay, then let me remind you that you’re a terrible liar, babe.” She changes the topic and internally you appreciate it.

You roll your eyes, fixing your lipstick in the mirror “Excuse me?”

Mindy folds her arms “The stairs, YN? Really?”

Fuck, you thought she wouldn’t say anything about it.

You click your lipstick shut “It’s the truth.”

“Bullshit. I know you more than anyone.” Mindy steps closer, voice lower, serious “Tell me what really happened.”

You hesitate. Just for a second.

But you can’t tell her, so you do what you do best.

You smirk, tossing your lipstick into your bag “Why are you so dramatic, babe? I told you, I tripped.”

Mindy doesn’t look away “Was it Mike?”

Just for a second. You freeze.

But Mindy catches it, and for the first time, you feel something dangerous creeping up your throat. Not anger. Not annoyance.

Something far worse.

Something close to tears.

So you swallow it down, just like you always do.

You smile, perfect and unbothered “Of course not.”

And you walk out before Mindy can say another word.

✮ ⋆

The rest of the day is a blur. You move through the halls like a ghost, your usual presence dimmed. People notice, but no one dares to question you beyond whispers.

By the time the final bell rings, you feel exhausted—not just physically, but mentally. You don't want to go home. Don’t want to face Mike. Don’t want to face your parents and worry them with your wounds.

So, instead, you linger.

You head to the rooftop, where few people ever go at this hour. The cool breeze feels good against your burning skin, and for a moment, you close your eyes, letting yourself breathe.

But you aren't alone for long.

Footsteps.

Slow. Measured.

You know who it is before you even turn around.

Seonghwa.

Of course.

“Skipping your driver today?” He teases, coming to stand beside you.

You don't respond. You just watch the sky, waiting for him to leave.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he studies you—the bandage, the quietness.

“You look like shit.”

“Charming,” You mutter.

Hwa leans against the railing, crossing his arms “What happened?”

“Tripped.”

“Try again.”

You glare at him “Not in the mood, Seonghwa.”

He hums, unconvinced “I’ll take a wild guess. Mike?”

Your grip tightens on the railing.

Seonghwa watches, eyes sharp “You know, if you need help—”

“I don’t.”

A beat of silence.

“Fine.” Hwa sighs dramatically “But at least make it worth my time. If you’re going to suffer, at least be entertaining about it.”

You scoff, shaking your head “You’re sick.”

“You love it.”

For a second, they stand there, neither speaking.

Then Seonghwa says “Come out with us tonight.”

You look at him.

You consider saying no. You should say no. But the idea of drinking, forgetting—even for a few hours—is too tempting.

So you nod.

And Seonghwa grins “Good girl.”

✮ ⋆

Wooyoung is not in the mood for this conversation.

He's sitting in the cafeteria, scrolling through his phone, pretending he’s not listening to Seonghwa ramble beside him.

The tension in their circle has been suffocating ever since the rumor and little Hongjoong avoiding you—he knows everyone feels it.

And now, of course, Seonghwa is trying to stir the pot.

Woo sighs, setting his phone down "No."

Hwa blinks, then lets out a short laugh, like Wooyoung just said something ridiculous.

"No?"

"Yeah. No," Wooyoung repeats, leaning back in his seat "Why the hell would I invite Hongjoong?"

Park smirks "Because it’ll be fun."

"It won’t be fun for YN."

"And?" Hwa tilts his head, as if that is irrelevant "Come on, Wooyoung. They’re not even fighting, they’re just—what’s the word? Avoiding each other. So let’s fix it."

Woo gives him a dry look "Since when do you fix things?"

Seonghwa grins "Since it benefits me."

Wooyoung knows this is a bad idea. He knows it in his bones. You are already in a bad place, and dragging Hongjoong into a club—with Seonghwa there? That’s just asking for more drama.

And yet, Seonghwa is persistent.

"Think about it," Hwa says, lazily stirring his drink with a straw "The nerd has been acting weird, hasn’t he? The whole disappearing act after school? The tension with YN?" He pauses, letting it sink in before adding, "A night out could be very interesting."

Woo exhales through his nose, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hongjoong doesn’t even go to clubs," Wooyoung argues.

Hwa shrugs "That’s what you’re for."

Woo groans. He rubs his temple, already regretting everything.

"You owe me one," Seonghwa reminds him, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

Wooyoung swears under his breath "Fine, but if YN gets pissed, you're taking the blame."

Seonghwa just laughs, slapping his back "Relax, Jung. What’s the worst that could happen?"

Wooyoung gives him a flat look, and Seonghwa just winks.

And that is how you know shit is about to go down.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The club is already packed when they arrive.

Music pulses through the air, bass shaking the floor beneath their feet. Neon lights flash overhead, bathing the crowd in shifting shades of red, blue, and violet.

The smell of alcohol, perfume, and sweat lingers in the air, a dizzying mix that makes everything feel a little more reckless.

You step inside first, dressed to kill. Your usual effortless confidence is back in full force, like armor you wear to keep the world at bay. You ignore the way people turn to stare—some in admiration, some in jealousy.

Tonight, you don't want to think about Mike.

You don't want to think about the bruises hidden under your makeup.

You don't want to think about Hongjoong.

You just want to forget.

And for the first few minutes, you do.

Your friends pull you onto the dance floor, and for a while, everything is a blur of movement, music, and laughter. San and Mingi keep close, making sure you don't get too lost in the chaos, but actually you don't mind.

Then Seonghwa shows up at your side, sliding an arm around your waist.

“You look dangerous tonight, baby.” He murmurs into her ear, voice rich with amusement.

You smirk, tossing your hair over your shoulder “Always.”

Hwa’s lips curl into a knowing grin “Then let’s dance.”

Meanwhile Hongjoong hadn't planned to be here. He had ignored Wooyoung's first few messages inviting him out, but when he found out that you were going, something inside him told him to show up.

And now, standing near the bar, his jaw clenched as he watches you, he realizes how much of a mistake this was. He is there, regretting his life choices.

He knew he shouldn’t have come.

The second he stepped into the club, he felt like an outsider—like he didn’t belong in this world. The music is too loud, the lights too disorienting. He’s never liked clubs. Never liked the forced energy of it all.

But here he is.

And the reason for that is standing in the middle of the dance floor, looking like a fucking dream.

You.

His stomach tightens at the sight of you—his girl, glowing under the flashing lights, swaying to the music like you were made for it. But you’re not alone.

Park Seonghwa is with you.

And he’s touching you.

Hongjoong’s jaw clenches.

You don’t push him away, you don’t even seem bothered by it. Instead, you tilt your head back, laughing at something Seonghwa says, eyes half-lidded, lips parted just enough to make something ugly coil in Hongjoong’s chest.

He doesn’t know what the hell he’s feeling, but it’s not good.

Something dark. Something possessive.

He forces himself to look away, gripping the drink Mindy shoved into his hand. He takes a sip, barely registering the taste.

"Didn’t think this was your scene, Joong." Mindy remarks, appearing beside him.

Hongjoong exhales slowly, forcing himself to relax "It’s not."

Samantha hums "Then why are you here?"

He doesn’t answer, but they know why.

And that is when shit gets worse.

Because Seonghwa, the bastard that he is, suddenly turns his head, meeting Hongjoong’s gaze across the club.

And he smirks. A slow, taunting smirk.

Then, keeping his eyes on Hongjoong, Hwa leans in closer to you, whispering something in your ear. His hand slides down your back, fingers teasing the hem of your mini dress.

Hongjoong’s grip tightens around his glass.

He’s going to fucking kill him.

✮ ⋆

You aren't drunk—not yet—but there’s a pleasant warmth buzzing in your veins, making it easier to laugh at Seonghwa’s jokes, to let his hand rest on your waist, to let yourself forget about the weight in your chest.

Because when you drink, you don't think.

And right now, you don't want to think about Hongjoong.

But apparently, the universe has other plans.

Because when you tilt your head back to sip your drink, your eyes flicker across the crowd—

And there he is. Standing a few feet away, stiff as a board, his jaw clenched so tight you can see the tension from here.

And worse—he’s staring right at you.

What is he doing here?

You exhale sharply, dragging a hand through your hair, trying to push down the irritation bubbling up. But before you can even decide what to do, Hongjoong is already moving.

Straight towards you.

Seonghwa notices first, of course. His lips curl into a slow smirk, clearly enjoying this, because he lives for chaos.

“Ah, the nerd finally made it,” He muses, taking a lazy sip of his drink “Took you long enough.”

You tense as Hongjoong stops in front of you, his expression unreadable. But his eyes—his eyes are dark, stormy, swirling with something you can’t quite name.

“Get your hands off her.”

His voice isn’t loud, but it cuts through the music, the air between them suddenly thick with tension.

You blink... The fuck?

Seonghwa chuckles, clearly amused, but he doesn’t move his hand from your waist.

“Relax, man. We’re just talking.”

“That’s not what it looks like.” Hongjoong’s fists curl at his sides, and his voice drops lower “I said, get your hands off her.”

The possessiveness in his tone sends a shiver down your spine—because Hongjoong has never spoken like this before. Never had this sharp edge to him.

Hwa tilts his head, looking far too entertained “And if I don’t?”

You groan, already tired of this “Both of you, stop it.”

You push Seonghwa’s hand away yourself, stepping between them before this escalates further.

“What the hell is your problem, Hongjoong?”

“My problem?” He scoffs, his frustration finally boiling over “Are you serious, YN? You’ve been all over him all night!”

You cross your arms “Oh, so now you care what I do after ignoring me for weeks?”

“I haven’t been ignoring you.”

You let out a sharp, humorless laugh “Really? Because every time I ask you to hang out, you have some excuse. Every single time.”

Hongjoong clenches his jaw, shifting uncomfortably. He wants to tell her the truth—about his job, about why he’s been avoiding her after school—but something holds him back.

And then—Seonghwa just has to add fuel to the fire “Maybe he just doesn’t want to spend time with you, baby.”

You stiffen, and Hongjoong snaps.

His glare cuts straight to the tallest “You don’t get to talk about us like you know anything.”

Seonghwa shrugs, smirking “I don’t need to. It’s obvious, isn’t it? One minute, YN’s your whole world, and the next? You’re running away.” He clicks his tongue “I’d be pissed too, if I were her.”

Hongjoong turns back to you, desperate now, he softly grabs your wrist.

"Come with me."

"What the hell—"

"Now." He snaps, dragging you out of the packed dance floor and into a dimly lit hallway near the bathrooms.

You yank your arm away once they stop "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

“I’m not running away, It’s not like that, pretty.”

You shake your head “Then what is it like, Kim? Because I’m sick of feeling like I don’t matter to you the second school ends.”

“You do matter to me,” He insists, his hands twitching like he wants to reach for you, but something stops him “I just—”

“Just what?”

And then—he blurts it out “I’m not the one all over another guy, YN.”

The words are bitter, sharp, dripping with jealousy.

You inhale sharply, eyes widening.

Hongjoong’s chest rises and falls rapidly, his emotions a mess—anger, jealousy, frustration, all tangled up.

Your lips part, but for once—you don't know what to say.

And for a moment, you just stand there.

Staring at each other.

Two stubborn storms on the verge of collision.

And neither of you willing to back down.

His words linger between you, and it stings in a way you weren't expecting.

Because he 's wrong.

And yet, you can’t deny that Seonghwa complicates things.

“Well,” You muses, swirling the drink in your hand like this is just another game to you “If you’re so bothered, why don’t you do something about it, nerd?”

He knows you are playing with him right now, but Hongjoong—Hongjoong is already on edge, already fueled by emotions he doesn’t know how to handle, and your words only push him further.

And before you can stop him, he does something about it.

He grabs your waist, pulling you to him—not rough, not aggressive, but firm.

It’s possessive.

And before you can process it his lips are on yours.

It’s not careful. Not gentle.

It’s desperate.

It’s frustration, jealousy, and something deeper, something neither of you have put into words yet.

And the worst part?

You melt into it.

Because for all of Hongjoong’s insecurities, for all of his awkwardness, he kisses you like he means it.

Like he needs you.

Like you’re his and his alone.

And for a brief, dizzying moment, you let yourself believe it.

When you break apart, Hongjoong’s breathing is uneven, his grip on your waist still lingering.

And that’s when reality crashes back in.

Because this kiss doesn’t fix anything.

It doesn’t erase the distance between you.

Or the secrets he’s still keeping.

And the realization twists something ugly inside of you.

You push him away slightly, your frustration boiling over “I don’t get you, Hongjoong,” You bite out, taking a step closer, your eyes narrowing “You act like you care, like you want to be with me, but when it actually matters—when I need you, when I want to be with you—you push me away!”

Hongjoong opens his mouth to protest, but you cut him off, your voice rising.

“Why don’t you just admit it, huh?” You sneer. “You fuck with me because you know I’m popular, right? You just want that—to be seen with the girl everyone knows—so you can brag about it to your friends and tell them you’re the one who’s got me.”

His expression falters, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of guilt or disbelief in his eyes.

But you don’t care.

“You don’t actually give a damn about me, do you?” You spit out “You just want the status, the validation. I’m just another trophy to you.”

Hongjoong’s face hardens, his hands curling into fists "YN, stop."

You let out a bitter laugh "Why? Because you don’t want to hear the truth?"

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his expression.

"That’s not the truth," He says, his voice lower now, more controlled "You think I care about that? About popularity? I told you that day at the amusement park, I did it just because I want to be with you. I don’t give a damn about what anyone else thinks—I just want you."

You shake your head, crossing your arms "Bullshit."

"It’s not bullshit," Hongjoong steps closer, eyes locked onto yours "I like you, YN. I really like you. And I don’t care if you’re popular or if the whole school hates you—I’d still feel the same way."

You swallow hard, but the ache in your chest doesn’t go away. His words sound good.

Too good.

"If that’s true," You murmur, looking away, "Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

Hongjoong looks pained, like he wants to tell you something but can’t.

"It’s not like that, I—"

"Then what is it like?" You demand, voice cracking "Because from where I’m standing, it feels like you’re only with me when it’s convenient for you."

"I would do anything for you. Anything, YN. But you won’t even let me prove it."

You inhale sharply, feeling your resolve shake for just a second. But then you remember the countless times he’s avoided you, dodged your calls, made excuses.

And you shake your head "I don’t believe you."

His face drops "YN…"

"No," You cut him off, stepping back "If you really meant that, you wouldn’t keep making me feel like I’m not enough."

Hongjoong stares at you, chest rising and falling like he’s struggling to find the right words, but whatever he wants to say—it’s too late.

Because you’re already turning around, walking away before he can break your heart even more.

He stands there, watching you disappear into the flashing lights and the haze of smoke, feeling you slip even further away.

And just a few feet away, hidden among the crowd—From the shadows, Seonghwa leans against the wall, watching the entire exchange with an amused smirk.

Everything is going exactly as planned.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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

GET UP! LIVIDSTARR JUST UPDATED THE CITY OF LOVE! WE ARE SO BACK!

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ Chapter Ten: Push and Pull

ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >

masterpost

៚ wc: 4.6k (total: ???)

៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?

៚ playlist !

៚ The memory of what happened—or what had almost happened last night, still remained fresh in your mind. As a result, you find yourself on edge as you head to Hongjoong’s agency per Seonghwa’s request, still processing the events that had unfurled. Upon arrival, you notice Hongjoong acting distant, leaving you uneasy. Seonghwa, sensing your discomfort, tries to lighten the mood and catch up, but the tension lingers in your mind as you try to make sense of Hongjoong's sudden change in behavior.

a/n: decided to come back to commemorate ateez’s 6th anniversary 🥳 this chapter’s a bit short but take this as some sort of headstart for what’s about to come! i missed you guys so much

tags: @beabatiny @babymbbatinygirl

The bus rattled along the familiar cobblestone streets of Paris, but your mind was far from the city’s usual charm. Today, the picturesque views outside the window were nothing more than a blur as your thoughts swirled in a mix of anticipation and dread. You sat at the very back, the cool glass of the window pressed against your head as you tried to make sense of the anxious knot in your stomach. Coming to Hongjoong’s agency at Seonghwa’s request, something you usually would’ve been excited about, now felt like a heavy burden. You told yourself it was just another day, another visit to pay.

But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Over time, things have started to shift between you and Hongjoong—and whatever happened last night was just the nail in the coffin. Even though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, you could still feel the change in your bones.

Ever since you and Hongjoong had grown closer, there had always been an unspoken connection—a bond that went beyond mere friendship. You’d fallen into a routine of easy familiarity, one that sometimes blurred the lines between what friends typically did. Yet, it had always felt natural, never forced or awkward. But last night was different.

The memory sent a shiver through you as you recalled the way you nearly altered the course of your friendship, had Wooyoung not interrupted the moment. The way he had looked at you like it’s all he’s ever known, the way his breath had hitched as if he had forgotten how to exhale, the way the world seemed to shrink to just the two of you at that very moment... you had felt something shift in that moment, something you weren’t quite ready to confront.

Now, as you sat on the bus, the memory of that moment replayed in your mind, leaving you with a strange mix of longing and confusion. You weren’t sure how you felt about it, or what it meant for your friendship with Hongjoong. Part of you wished he would just forget about it, pretend like it never happened, so you could both go back to the comfortable routine you had established. But another part of you, a quieter, more vulnerable part, wondered what might have happened if you hadn’t been interrupted.

The bus came to a halt, pulling you from your thoughts. This was your stop. You took a deep breath, trying to gather your scattered emotions as you stepped off the bus and onto the pavement. The cool morning air did little to calm your nerves. Each step toward the agency felt heavier than the last, and you found yourself repeating a silent mantra in your head: “Please don’t bring it up. Please don’t bring it up.”

As you entered the building, the familiar cool blast of the air conditioning greeted you, doing little to soothe your anxiety. The agency was bustling with activity as usual, but the usual hustle and bustle felt distant, like background noise that you couldn’t quite focus on. Your thoughts were too preoccupied with the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Seonghwa had said he would meet you in the lobby, so you headed there, trying to push aside the nerves that twisted in your gut. You weren’t sure what you were more anxious about—seeing Hongjoong after what had almost happened or having to navigate the conversation with Seonghwa while pretending nothing was wrong.

But when you reached the lobby, your heart skipped a beat. Not only was Seonghwa there, but so was Hongjoong. The two of them were sitting on one of the plush couches, chatting casually. Hongjoong’s phone was in his hand, and he seemed relaxed, completely at ease in a way that made your stomach twist even more. How could he be so calm when you felt like you were about to crash out?

Seonghwa noticed you first, his face breaking into a warm smile as he waved you over. “There you are! I was starting to think you got lost on the way,” he teased lightly. But despite his light-heartedness, you could barely muster a smile in return.

“Sorry, the bus took a little longer than I expected,” you replied, your voice slightly strained as you approached them.

Seonghwa stood to greet you properly, but it was Hongjoong you couldn’t keep your eyes off of. “Morning, Hongjoong,” you said, hoping against hope that he would act normal.

For a moment, he looked up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours. But the connection was brief—too brief for your liking, too different from what you’re used to. He nodded curtly, barely holding your gaze for more than a second before looking back down at his phone. “Morning,” he muttered, his tone almost dismissive.

Before you could even process the oddness of his behavior, Hongjoong suddenly stood up, slipping his phone into his pocket. “I have to head out. I’ve got some work I need to finish,” he said abruptly, his voice flat, almost devoid of the usual warmth.

“Oh... okay,” you responded, trying to hide the sting of disappointment that pricked at your heart. Was it because of last night?

Hongjoong barely spared you another glance as he nodded to Seonghwa. “I’ll catch up with you later,” he added before turning on his heel and walking away, his footsteps echoing in the spacious lobby.

You stood there, frozen in place, as you watched him disappear down the hallway with concern etched all over your face.

Seonghwa must have noticed the flicker of confusion and hurt on your face, given how he stepped closer and offered you a gentle smile—one that did little to ease your nerves, but hey, at least he’s trying his best, right?

“Don’t worry about him,” he said softly. “Hongjoong’s always been like that. He gets caught up in his work sometimes.”

But he’s not. You know he’s not like that. At least you think he isn’t—but it’s foolish to try to go against someone who has known him for longer than you have.

So how much do you really know about Hongjoong? Or, better yet—do you even know him at all?

You forced a smile in return, though it felt more like a grimace. “Yeah... maybe,” you murmured, though doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.

Seonghwa gestured to the couch where he and Hongjoong had been sitting moments before. “Come on, let’s sit. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to catch up,” he suggested.

Once you and Seonghwa were settled on the couch, you found yourself nervously fidgeting, your hands gripping the fabric of your dark brown skirt as if it were the only thing anchoring you in place. The soft material bunched under your fingers, and you absentmindedly rubbed the texture between your thumb and forefinger. Your feet, however, seemed to have a mind of their own, your boots tapping lightly against the floor in a consistent rhythm.

Seonghwa watched you for a moment, his eyes softening as he took in your unusually tense demeanor. His smile faded slightly, replaced by a gentle concern as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You seem a bit on edge,” he remarked cautiously, his voice careful not to pry too deeply. “Is everything alright? You’re usually not this quiet.”

You blinked, your attention snapping back to him, realizing you’d been lost in your own head. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you said quickly, your voice higher than usual as you tried to dismiss the worry in his eyes. “Just... tired, I guess.”

But the reassurance felt hollow even as you said it, and Seonghwa didn’t look convinced. His brow furrowed, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to read the truth on your face. You could feel his gaze, heavy with unspoken questions, and you squirmed under the scrutiny, your fingers digging deeper into the fabric of your skirt.

You opened your mouth to say something more, to steer the conversation away from the uncomfortable territory it was veering into, but the question slipped out before you could stop it: “Did something happen to Hongjoong before I got here?”

Seonghwa’s expression shifted from concern to mild confusion. He straightened up, his eyes narrowing slightly as he replayed the morning in his head. “Hongjoong? No, not that I know of,” he answered, his tone slow as if he were double-checking his memory. “Actually, he was in a pretty good mood when we were talking. Why do you ask?”

“Oh…” The single word fell from your lips like a stone, heavy and sinking into the silence that followed. You looked down, the tapping of your foot coming to an abrupt halt.

So, it really was because of last night—because of you.

The realization sat uneasily in your chest, a mixture of guilt and confusion swirling together. Why was he acting like this? And why couldn’t you shake the feeling that it was somehow your fault?

The change in your demeanor hadn’t gone unnoticed, and Seonghwa couldn’t help but wonder what had caused the sudden shift. “Did something happen between you two that I should know about?” he asked, the question slipping out before he could think twice about it.

For a brief moment, you hesitated, caught between wanting to confide in him and the desire to just keep it all to yourself. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Seonghwa—far from it. But how could you possibly explain what had almost transpired between you and Hongjoong last night? How could you put into words the tension, the almost unspoken moment that lingered like a specter in your mind? The way you’d both teetered on the edge of something you weren’t sure either of you were ready for?

You glanced up at Seonghwa, your mouth opening to speak, but the words got caught in your throat. You couldn’t bring yourself to say it outright—that you and Hongjoong had almost crossed a line that neither of you would have been able to step back from. Instead, you settled on a question of your own, one that seemed to hover over everything like an unspoken truth. “Is Hongjoong usually the… on and off, push and pull type of person?”

Seonghwa considered your question carefully, his expression thoughtful. He leaned back, his gaze drifting as he seemed to search for the right words. “Hongjoong... he’s complex,” Seonghwa began slowly, choosing his words with caution. “He’s not always the easiest to read, and he definitely has his moments where he pulls away. But it’s not always about the other person. Sometimes it’s more about what’s going on in his own head.”

You nodded, processing Seonghwa’s response, but it did little to soothe the unease gnawing at you. The ambiguity of Hongjoong’s actions left you grappling with your own feelings, wondering if the almost-moment had been a step too far—or if, perhaps, it was a step you weren’t meant to take just yet.

You bit your lip, glancing down at your hands. The words you wanted to say lingered at the tip of your tongue, already too heavy for you to push behind. Finally, you exhaled slowly, grappling with your thoughts as you tried to put them into words.

“What if,” you began, “let’s say you and someone, hypothetically, of course—maybe Hongjoong—were on good terms one night, sharing jokes that only the two of you understand, and it feels like, for a moment, you’re really getting somewhere... like you’re finally diving into a deeper level of friendship. But then, the next day, it’s like you’ve done something wrong. Like suddenly, you’re a stranger, or worse, like you’re a problem that needs to be avoided.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrowed as he listened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processed your words. A beat passed in silence, his expression shifting from confusion to something more knowing. “You’re talking about yourself, aren’t you?” he asked—but you knew denying it would be foolish, because it seems like he already knows the answer and is just waiting for you to confirm his hypothesis.

But of course, it’s still embarrassing to give in right away.

You immediately shook your head, your denial quick and a little too forceful. “No, no,” you stammered, a nervous laugh bubbling up to cover the crack in your composure. “It’s just a hypothetical situation. A... a thought experiment, really. That doesn’t apply to Hongjoong and me—we’re on good terms.”

Even as the words left your mouth, they felt flimsy and false, as insubstantial as smoke. It was a lie—a denial that you hoped would convince not just Seonghwa but also yourself. What a sin it was to lie to yourself, you thought, feeling the sting of your own dishonesty more acutely than you’d expected. But how could you admit the truth when it was still so raw, so undefined even in your own mind?

Seonghwa didn’t look entirely convinced, his eyes lingering on you as though trying to see past the mask you’d hastily thrown on. But after a moment, he nodded, though the crease between his brows remained. “Alright,” he said slowly, granting you the benefit of the doubt, though you could sense the lingering skepticism in his tone. “If it’s just a hypothetical situation...”

He leaned back, crossing his arms as he thought it over, considering your so-called analysis. “Well,” he began thoughtfully, “if someone acts like that, it’s usually because they’re dealing with something internally. It might have nothing to do with you at all. Sometimes people pull away because they’re scared of how close they’re getting, or maybe because they’re battling their own insecurities. It’s not necessarily fair to the other person, but it’s not always about them either. It’s about the person who’s pulling back, struggling with their own feelings or fears. The push and pull, as confusing as it is, isn’t always meant to hurt. Sometimes it’s just... a defense mechanism? That’s what I’d call it.”

He paused, watching you closely, as if gauging your reaction to his words. “But if that person cares,” Seonghwa continued, his voice softening, “they’ll come back around. It might take time, but if they really value the relationship, they’ll find a way to bridge the gap. It’s just... sometimes people need to work through their own stuff before they can fully be there for someone else.”

You nodded along, your mind racing with Seonghwa’s explanation, each word resonating in a way that hit too close to home. Could that be it? Was Hongjoong simply trying to figure out his own feelings, or was there something deeper at play?

After the conversation with Seonghwa, you decide to distract yourself by exploring the agency a bit more. Seonghwa suggests visiting one of the studios, a familiar place where the designers and models are usually busy creating the next big thing. The idea seems harmless enough, and you hope it might help you take your mind off the tangled mess of emotions still buzzing in your head.

As you and Seonghwa walk through the halls, the lively chatter and the click of heels on the polished floors provide a backdrop that usually energizes you. But today, everything feels muted, like you’re watching from behind a glass wall. You can’t shake the lingering sense of discomfort from your earlier encounter with Hongjoong, and as you enter the studio, the atmosphere seems to weigh down on you.

Hongjoong is there, of course—standing by a sketchboard, deep in conversation with another designer. He’s gesturing animatedly, pointing out details on the paper, his passion for his work evident even from a distance. For a moment, you’re content to just observe him, the sight of him in his element stirring a fondness that you can’t quite suppress. But then, as if sensing your presence, he glances up. Your eyes meet, and the world seems to still for a heartbeat.

But instead of acknowledging you, Hongjoong’s expression closes off, and he turns back to his work without so much as a nod. The dismissal stings, sharper than you expected. It’s as if he’s deliberately keeping you at arm’s length, and the casual disregard feels like a slap in the face. Seonghwa, noticing the sudden shift in your demeanor, gives you a questioning look, but you just shrug, feigning indifference.

The designers break for a moment, and Seonghwa waves Hongjoong over. Hongjoong approaches, but his steps are slow, reluctant. When he finally reaches you, he barely spares you a glance. “Hey,” he mumbles, his voice flat and devoid of the warmth you’ve come to expect. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking anywhere but at you.

Seonghwa tries to engage him in conversation, asking about his latest designs and upcoming plans, but Hongjoong’s responses are curt and to the point. The easy camaraderie you’d seen between him and Seonghwa earlier has vanished, replaced by a stilted formality that makes the air feel thick and uncomfortable. You can’t help but feel like an intruder, caught in the middle of a conversation that’s turned cold and impersonal.

When Seonghwa finally asks if Hongjoong has time to catch up, Hongjoong hesitates, his eyes flitting to yours for just a split second before they drop to the floor. His lips press into a thin line, as if he’s considering the implications of staying versus leaving. Finally, he shakes his head. “I can’t right now,” he says, not quite meeting Seonghwa’s eyes. “There’s too much to get done.”

The excuse sounds flimsy even to your own ears, but Seonghwa simply nods, accepting it without questioning his words. You, however, can’t help the sharp pang of disappointment that tugs at your chest. It’s not just the fact that Hongjoong doesn’t want to stay and chat; it’s the way he won’t even look at you, like he’s deliberately avoiding your presence, and it’s almost as if you’re invisible.

“Alright, no worries,” Seonghwa replies with a casual shrug, though you notice the slight crease in his brow—a sign that he’s picked up on the tension, even if he doesn’t fully understand it. He claps Hongjoong on the shoulder, trying to keep the mood light. “We’ll catch up some other time, then.”

Hongjoong nods absently, already half-turned back towards his work. “Yeah, sure,” he mutters, but there’s no conviction behind his words. His eyes flick to the sketches on the wall, and it’s as if the conversation is already forgotten, his focus shifting entirely away from you and Seonghwa. Without another word, he walks back to the sketchboard, resuming his conversation with the other designer as if the brief interaction never happened.

The sting of his indifference leaves you reeling, and you’re not sure whether to feel angry, hurt, or both. It’s as if last night’s near-moment had flipped a switch inside him, and now you’re paying the price for whatever crossed line he thinks was drawn. You swallow hard, fighting the urge to call after him, to demand an explanation, but the words die in your throat. This isn’t the place for that—there’s too much at stake, too many eyes watching.

Seonghwa glances at you, concern flickering in his gaze. “Don’t take it to heart,” he says quietly, as if seeing right through you. “He’s probably just stressed. You know how he gets when he’s in the zone.”

You nod, forcing a tight smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yeah, I know,” you reply, but the words feel hollow. Deep down, you can’t shake the feeling that this is more than just stress or a busy schedule. There’s something else at play, something simmering beneath the surface that neither of you can quite grasp.

Seonghwa leads you away from the studio, and you follow in silence, your mind replaying the brief encounter over and over like a broken record. Every glance, every dismissive gesture, every word left unsaid feels like another tiny wound, each one building on the last until they form a gaping chasm between you and Hongjoong that you’re not sure how to bridge.

As you walk, Seonghwa tries to fill the quiet with idle chatter, talking about some of the upcoming projects and the new talent the agency is scouting. You nod along, but your thoughts are miles away—it’s like you’re caught in a loop, circling around the same questions with no clear answers in sight.

Finally, Seonghwa stops in front of a glass door leading to one of the agency’s rooftop lounges. He turns to you, his expression softening as he takes in your distant look. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently. “I mean, really talk about it. I know you said it’s hypothetical, but... it doesn’t feel that way.”

You hesitate, your gaze drifting to the floor. Part of you wants to open up, to spill everything that’s been weighing on your heart, but another part of you holds back, afraid of what admitting the truth might mean. You’ve always prided yourself on being able to handle your own feelings, to keep them neatly tucked away where they can’t cause trouble. But this... this is different.

“I don’t know,” you finally admit, your voice as silent as the wind’s whispers. “I just... I don’t want to make things worse. And I don’t even know what’s going on in his head.”

Seonghwa watches you, his expression unreadable for a moment before it softens into something more empathetic. “Sometimes, you just have to let people work through their own stuff,” he says quietly. “You can’t always fix it, no matter how much you want to. But that doesn’t mean you’re alone in it. If you ever need to talk or just... figure things out, I’m here.”

You nod, a small, grateful smile tugging at your lips. It’s not much, but it’s enough for now. The comfort of knowing that at least someone understands, even if only a little, helps to ease the tightness in your chest.

Seonghwa gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze before turning to push open the door, letting the cool breeze from the rooftop wash over you both. You follow him out, letting the fresh air clear your mind, even if just for a moment. It’s a brief reprieve from the tangled mess of your thoughts, but it’s one you’re grateful for.

Sitting down on one of the chairs, you let out a sigh, fingers nervously tracing patterns on the hem of your skirt as your thoughts spiral. Seonghwa watches you quietly, giving you the space to process, but his curiosity is palpable. He waits, his presence a silent invitation for you to unload whatever has you troubled.

“I don’t even know why I’m looking too deeply into it—and that’s what’s bothering me the most,” you murmur, your voice so soft it almost gets lost in the quiet hum of the lobby. It feels like you’re confessing a secret, something fragile that might shatter if spoken too loudly. And maybe, in a way, you are.

Seonghwa furrows his brow, leaning in slightly as if to catch your words more clearly. “Why? What do you mean?” he asks, genuinely puzzled.

You hesitate, your gaze flitting from the floor to Seonghwa’s face before dropping back down, as if even his gaze is too much to bear right now. “Don’t you... don’t you think so, too?” you ask, your tone laced with uncertainty, like you’re searching for validation but already dreading the answer.

Seonghwa tilts his head, still looking lost. “Not at all... why do you feel like you’re overthinking it way too much?”

“Well, for starters, we’re friends,” you begin, your words spilling out in a rush. You’re so caught up in your own explanation that you miss the flicker of amusement that dances in Seonghwa’s eyes, the way his lips twitch upward as if he’s holding back a knowing smile.

“Right… friends.” Seonghwa nods along, doing his best to maintain a neutral expression. “And?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like... well, I feel like I’m being a terrible friend by overthinking his need for personal space. Screw that—can I even call myself a friend of his if I don’t know how to respect the fact that he needs time to work through his own stuff?” You pause, your frustration bubbling to the surface as you try to articulate your emotions. “Me, personally, I’d feel off if I’m just having a bad day and a friend of mine decides to make it about them by asking, ‘Are you mad at me?’ But like, I just...”

Your words trail off, the rest of your thoughts jumbled and disjointed in your mind. You glance at Seonghwa, waiting for some sort of reaction, half-expecting him to agree that you’re being ridiculous, that you’re blowing things out of proportion. Instead, he gives you a sympathetic smile, his eyes warm with understanding.

“Listen,” Seonghwa starts, leaning back against the chair across you, adopting a more relaxed posture as if to put you at ease. “I get where you’re coming from. It’s easy to feel like you’re overstepping when you care about someone and you’re not sure how to navigate their boundaries. But you know what? Friendship—if that’s still what you wanna call whatever’s going on between you and Hongjoong—isn’t about getting it right all the time. It’s about being there, even when you’re not sure if you’re doing it perfectly.”

You let his words sink in, but the doubt still lingers at the edges of your mind. “But what if I am overstepping?” you press, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice. “What if he needs space and I’m just making things worse by worrying about it?”

Seonghwa chuckles softly, his laughter a gentle, reassuring sound. “You’re human, you know that, right? Not some perfect robot programmed to always know the right thing to do. Besides,” he adds with a playful smirk, “I’ve seen the way you and Hongjoong look at each other. I think he’d forgive you for overthinking a little.”

Your eyes widen, heat rushing to your cheeks at the implication behind Seonghwa’s words. “What—what’s that supposed to mean?” you stammer, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. “There’s nothing like that between us. We’re just…”

Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, a mischievous expression forming on his face as he watches you wave him off. “Right, friends. Just friends who get all worked up when the other one’s being moody,” he teases, wiggling his eyebrows. “Come on, you’re acting like Hongjoong’s the only one with feelings here.”

You groan, feeling your face flush. “Don’t say that!” you protest, covering your face with your hands, wishing you could somehow hide from the embarrassment. “It’s not like that. I just—he’s important to me, okay? And I don’t like not knowing where I stand.”

“Relax, I’m just messing with you,” Seonghwa chuckles, though his eyes soften with understanding. “Look, maybe he’s just having one of those days. You know how Hongjoong is—sometimes he gets in his head and needs a little space to sort through his thoughts. But that doesn’t mean he’s upset with you, or that you’ve done something wrong.”

You exhale slowly, letting Seonghwa’s words wash over you. He’s right, of course. Hongjoong has always been the type to retreat inward when things get overwhelming, and you know that better than most. But knowing it and accepting it are two different things, and it’s hard not to let your own insecurities creep in when faced with his sudden distance.

Seonghwa reaches over, giving your knee a reassuring pat. “Hey, you’re doing your best. And if you ever need to talk, or if you just need to be distracted from it all, you know I’m here for you.”

You smile, though it’s small and a bit shaky. “Thanks, Seonghwa,” you say quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He grins, the teasing glint returning to his eyes. “Well, for starters, you’d probably be even more of a mess than you are now,” he jokes, earning a light punch to the arm from you. But then his expression softens again, sincerity shining through. “Seriously, though. You’re not alone in this. And whatever happens with Hongjoong, you’ll figure it out.”

Hopefully.

🪞 — lividstar.

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

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

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

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦! 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Bf!Ateez Texts - @littlexbunni ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Case: It's You [Book One] [Book Two] - @potatomountain detective!poly!ot8 x detective!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Comfort Texts - @srslyscary ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Compromise - @cyberpxnk bf!seonghwa x reader x soccer player!yunho (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Défilé De Lingerie - @/bro-atz lingerie designer!san x lingerie model!reader x lingerie tailor!mingi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Deal With The Devil - @hoeforalbedo priest!hongjoong x reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Destiny - @k-zuzu idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Do Not Touch - @bandgie death!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Duck Curtains - @ichorai roommate!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Enough - @mingsolo idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Essence - @whatudowhennooneseesyou siren!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Gently Giant - @jagibangbangchan whale mershark!seonghwa x mermaid!reader ft.pirate!ateez (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Got A Fur Coat, So I Make It Purr - @velvetydream idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Just A Few More Minutes - @skrrts stay-at-home dad!seonghwa x mom!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Know Your Place - @xosannie idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Early Bird Gets The Worm - @ja3hwa bf!yunho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Emotion Verte - @altxrrmelancholy bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hail To The King - @sweetinsaniiity king!yunho x ex-princess!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Head Empty, Mouth Full - @xosannie bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Lesson Plans - @callmeagardengnome professor!yunho x teaching assistant!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Perfect Opportunity - @mingi-s-dimples bf!idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Princess Fluffy-Cupcake-Sparkles - @seonghw4ffles non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Never Yours - @daceydeath idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Riding The Heat - @xomakara alpha!idol!yeosang x omega!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Sleepy Head - @sugawhaaa bf!yeosang x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Diet Pepsi - @loserlvrss bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Dream Come True - @makeitmingi dad!idol!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Facade Of Perfection [Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] - @koyagifs ceo!san x reader (three parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guilty Pleasure | Follow You - @orshii priest!san x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Handy - @hausofwoo maintenance man!san x tenant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Good Morning - @yuyusshinelight dad!husband!idol!mingi x mom!wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Happy Birthday to Us - @freyaphoria yandere!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Heat Stroke - @sluttywonwoo bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 His Chérie - @xuchiya idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Lip Gloss - @loserlvrss friend!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Day Off - @cyberseong bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Décolletage - @daddyfordaeddy servant!wooyoung x lady!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Don't Save Her (She Don't Wanna Be Saved) - @lunardragon00 peasant!wooyoung x princess!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Forbidden Fruit - @astrasng idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Fractured Promises - @koyagifs ceo!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Screeching Tires and Blood Stains - @daceydeath mafia!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Second Chance at Love - @xomakara single dad!widow!jongho x nanny!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Secretary Jongho Headcanon - @rems-writing secretary!jongho × ceo!reader (headcanon) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Sneaky - @hwallazia ceo!jongho x office worker!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stars - @beenbaanbuun bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

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

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

💫Did I even deserve you?💫

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

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

Both beautiful and dangerous.

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

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

It was not a pleasant road.

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

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

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

A myth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And like every year he came back unsuccessful.

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

Seonghwa

Your voice.

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

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

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

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

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

Not stricken by grief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again.

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

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

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

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

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

For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.

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

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

That stung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seonghwa.

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

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

"Y-you did not hear that?"

"Hear what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

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

You cannot.

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

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

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

Seonghwa. My love.

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

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

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

You have to let me go.

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

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

I love you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It could not have been you.

You were dead.

Gone.

Forever.

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Accidentally Have 8 Pets - @xuchiya ot8 x reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Responding To You Telling Them You Want A Divorce - @deerieme bf!ot8 x reader (text scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Bassists Do It Deeper - @crimsonbubble rockstar!hongjoong x reader x bassists!mingi (thoughts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Calling Them Pretty - @nightbeforethend bf!ot8 x reader (text scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Coppélia - @spookwriter-xo mafia!ot8 x ballerina!reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 A Deal With The Devil - @mingi-s-dimples devil!hongjoong x pastor’s daughter!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Captain Little Mate: Round 2 - @crimsonbubble dad!hongjoong x mom!reader (hard thoughts) 𓆞 𓆞 Car Sex - @yourfatherlucifer bf!hongjoong x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Cry For Me [Part One | Part Two | Part Three] - @yeostinys ceo!hongjoong x secretary!reader (three parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Detective Kim - @mingkismain detective!hongjoong x detective!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Drunken Love - @kisseudoll bf!seonghwa x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Pink Star Presents - @holybibly pornstar!seonghwa x pornstar!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Pink Yarn - @daydreamingaboutkoreanmen idol!seonghwa x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Survivors - @koyagifs firefighter!seonghwa x er nurse!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Tattoo Artist Seonghwa - @everyonewooeverywhere tattoo artist!seonghwa x reader (drabble) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Daddy’s Summer Fling - @mingi-s-dimples dilf!yunho x daughter’s best friend!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Don’t Hate The Player - @vampzity bf!yunho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Livestream - @yunniverse bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Love Again - @xomakara single dad!yunho x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Lust & Love & Loss - @bananayuyu non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Nothing To Prove - @makeitmingi bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Pillow Princess - @look-at-the-way-i-ride bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 The Hills - @ateezscupid ex bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Snowflake - @mingi-s-dimples bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 You're Mine Baby - @wwooyology ex-bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Casting Couch - @kitten4sannie frat boy!san x reader ft. frat boy!yungi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Spiderman - @koyagifs spiderman!san x reader ft.wooyoung (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Perfect Cocktail - @covenha best friend!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 This Is How I Flirt - @yothangie boxer!san x med student!reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Wading In Wait - @pyeongstarr non-idol!san x yandere!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 By Her Side - @arilevenatz bodyguard!mingi x princess!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Little Doe - @bunnliix outlaw!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Me And My Wife - @koyagifs husband!idol!mingi x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Strangers By Nature - @seongwars heir!mingi x heri!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Your Secret Fan [Part One | Part Two] - @strrykais idol!mingi x idol!reader (smau) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Asking You To Be His Valentine's - @makeitmingi idol!single-dad!wooyoung x dance teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Secret Santa - @dinossaurz bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Beauty of Us - @xuchiya bf!wooyoung x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Thrill Of The Chase - @wwooyology bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Vivrant Thing - @hwaslayer best friend's brother!wooyoung x reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Cozy Game Night - @03jyh23 bfjongho x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hand Marks - @vampzity ceo!husband!jongho x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Healthy Study Habits - @ohsoimaginari bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Part Of Your World - @makeitmingi bf!ceo!jongho x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Put The Book Down - @fivestaralien bf!jongho x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

this was so cute! I love just the two of them talking and building it’s so relaxing, still haven’t gone out and build a lego set so this will do.

thank you again taking in my request when will i have more no clue, but I know that I can count on you to accomplish them perfectly 💕

🪻Lego Friday🪻

✨Pairing: non idol!Seonghwa x gn!reader ✨Prompt: Building a lego set with seonghwa I don’t have much of an idea around this one I just really wanna build a lego set and from watching seonghwa lego lives building with him just looks like so much fun. ✨Requested by @beabatiny🫶🏻 ✨Word Count: 0.9k ✨Genre: fluff ☀️Authors Note: Thank you for requesting this! It was fun writing and I hope you enjoy it🥰 also sorry this took me so long to write😭

"I wanna build legos."

It was announced to you as you were making some desserts for the two of you. Seonghwa was standing in the kitchen holding two enormous lego bags he had pulled out from somewhere whilst giving you the biggest puppy eyes.

"Do you want me to build legos with you?" You ask fighting back a chuckle at the way he was standing and pouting.

His little nod brought a smile to your face as you finished up the dessert.

"Then we will build legos together! Got any I can build? Nothing too complicated please!"

As you said that Seonghwa was already picking up the different lego sets he had, eager to find one you could work on.

"Baby Yoda? Or maybe some flowers?? Or both??" He holds two sets up for you showcasing one where you'd build baby Yoda or some flowers to have for display.

"Hmmm Yoda looks a bit easier, can I start with that one perhaps?"

"Yes!!!" He nods and then quickly hurries to the living room moving with urgency to move everything to the side so the two of you can build the legos together comfortably.

"Cutie." You say to yourself shaking your head with a little laugh before entering the living room with two cups of dessert and two spoons.

You sit down next to him looking curiously at what he's doing.

"Here! One baby Yoda box for you! I'll work on a darth vader one then!" He says happily while handing you your box.

"Thank you!" You say as you take the box and empty it on the floor in front of you.

The two of you sit in silence for a while sorting through the pieces before you remember something you wanted to share with him.

"Did I tell you what Wooyoung and Yeosang did yesterday when we went mini golfing?" You ask him as you start putting some of the pieces together.

"What did those two do this time?" He asks curious to know what your friends had done. Knowing that Wooyoung was involved it could mean anything from silly things like stealing a bite from someones ice cream to something more chaotic.

"Well they started arguing about the best way to push the ball in the hole and decided to make it a competition." You start telling him and Seonghwas boba eyes are focused on you.

"I'm sensing a but?" he says chuckling and you can't help but laugh and nod.

"Yeah, Yeosang did better and to try and distract him, Wooyoung decided to full on chomp on his shoulder." You show by imitating Woo's chomp on Yeosangs shoulder on Seonghwas shoulder without actually biting him.

His laugh ring through the apartment as he shakes his head at your friends antics.

"That sounds just like them to be honest." He says as he hands you the piece you're looking for whilst showing you where it should go.

"Yeah they truly can't be stopped. We almost got kicked out because of Wooyoungs loud chatter but we managed to get him to quiet down by promising we'd buy him food if he could be a bit quieter so we could play to the end."

The two of you sit and talk for hours, giggling about everything from the legos, to your friends, to things that has happened recently in your life whilst enjoying the dessert from time to time that you had prepared.

"Look! Isn't it cute once it's finished?" Seonghwa ask as he shows you the little Darth Vader figure hes put together and you look at him in surprise.

"How did you finish so quickly?! I'm still trying to figure out what I've done wrong." You say as you hold up your Yoda figure which looks a bit wonky due to you putting the wrong pieces together.

"Ahhh well I'm the pro aren't I? You'll learn quickly if you build legos more often." He says whilst moving closer to you, taking the lego from your hands and undoing what you had put together wrongly.

"Here, let's try again okay? This piece." He holds up a big piece and gives it to you "goes here okay? Whilst this one goes over there."

He helps guide you by pointing where certain pieces will go.

"Thanks Hwa, this is really calming you know." You mumble as you focus on setting up the last pieces of Yoda before showing it to him proudly.

"Ta-daaaa!" You show the lego piece off and he claps his hands excitedly for you.

"It looks great!"

"That's because I had such a great teacher!"

You two take a little break after that, sitting facing each other and chatting about anything and everything.

"I saw that they're playing Coraline again in the theaters for its 15th year anniversary. All nine of us should go and see it since we're nearing spooky season." Seonghwa says while rummaging through the rest of his unbuilt lego.

"It's in theaters?! All of us have to go! We should go dressed up as the characters! Wooyoung could be the talking cat!" You exclaim and Hwa looks excited at the idea of dressing up and going to see it.

"Yes!! I wanna be one of the old ladies with all the dogs." He lets you know.

"Hongjoong should dress as the other old lady then." You laugh and the night ends with you two planning who would be which character as you start on a new piece of lego, this time deciding to build it together while laughing at the idea of getting dressed to go to the movies.

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

AHHHHHHHHHH MY BABIES 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

strangers by nature | vii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Rating: NC-17 Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 5.4K Warnings: angst, character d*ath, feelings of despair

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the loneliness. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s all I have, Yeosang.”

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

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

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

The look in her eyes said everything.

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

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

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

No one was coming. No one ever did.

It had always been just you.

⋆

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

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

That this was it.

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

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

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

“Comfortable up there?”

Mingi let out a soft huff. “I guess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He missed you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about you?”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Mingi. I don’t hate you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you think dogs do in heaven?” 

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

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

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

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

“I think they get to run forever.”

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

“And…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is getting ridiculous.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

But somewhere along the way, something shifted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋆

“You’re late.”

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

“W-Wooyoung!?”

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

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

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

“Hongjoong,” Wooyoung whined.

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

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

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

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

Mingi flinched. “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Eh?”

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

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

“I’m…I’m going back?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You just have to fight.”

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

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

“Y/N…”

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

“...Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

Your presence.

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

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

Just you.

“Y/N.”

Still, you didn’t hear him.

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

“Y/N.”

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

You froze.

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

Mingi was watching you.

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

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

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

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

Reaching.

Wanting.

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

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

It wasn’t much. But it was enough.

Because this time, Mingi had reached for you first.

<< vi | viii >>

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

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

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

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

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

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

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

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

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

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

@vcutparis @kaituyyn @blvckarabixnvoid @amazaynaastha

I’m about to super mario 64 jump into my phone and fight mike and dann, haven’t liked mike from the beginning and dann I’m trying to be understanding cause of what happened, but also i care too much about reader and hongjoong.

speaking of hongjoong my boy be honest with reader please, this is only gonna get worse and i’m gonna end up throwing my phone in frustration cause it’s gonna be a bunch of build up lies.

anyways I enjoyed the chapter like always the next one worries me (all the next chapters are gonna worry me), but first heartbreak ahhhhhhh

keep up the great work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆08: The first lie.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 8,5k

Summary: Your relationship with Hongjoong takes a new turn, but sooner after, things start to feel off.

Rumors spread, and frustration will consume you.

Warnings: Smut (MDN!!) Switch!Hongjoong, Switch!reader, oral (f receiving) slight handjob, hair pulling, riding, pet names (good boy, pretty, baby) suggestive.

Series masterlist Taglist

☆07 ☆09: The first heartbreak.

You and Dann.

The Clarke mansion is always buzzing with activity, but tonight, Mike had a plan to ensure it was completely empty—except for two specific people.

You sit at the grand dining table, smiling at the photo on your phone screen and the short message attached.

HN: She says: thank you for the toys!!

You let out a soft smile before scrolling through your social media.

On the other side of the table, Mike watches your parents with a casual smile. Your father, ever the businessman, is flipping through his tablet, barely paying attention to his meal, while your mother delicately cuts into her filet mignon.

"You know," Mike begins smoothly, setting down his glass, "It's been a while since we went out together for dinner. Why not go somewhere special tonight? Just us."

Your father lifts an eyebrow "A night out? That's rather sudden, Son."

“Yeah, let's have dinner tonight to celebrate all our achievements as a family.”

“That sounds so nice, Mike.” Your mother says with enthusiasm as she turns to you “Sweetie, we can match our outfits, what about emerald and pearls tonight.”

Before you can say something Mike’s speaks again.

“Actually, I was inviting only you two. YN can do other things.”

You can sense the bitterness in his tone, so you just roll your eyes. Isn't like you want to waste your time at dinner with him.

“But, Mike—” Your mother starts, but you interrupt her.

“Don't worry, Mommy. I don't feel like hanging out today.” You give her a smile waving off.

Your father finally glances up "Where do you have in mind?"

Mike leans forward, feigning nonchalance.

"I made a reservation at The Imperial Orchid at seven. It’s exclusive, elegant, and I hear their sommelier is outstanding. Consider it a small token of appreciation for everything you do."

Your mother exchanges a look with her husband, a subtle curiosity flickering in her eyes. Mike knows them too well.

Your father enjoys luxury, your mother enjoys exclusivity. He had picked the perfect bait.

Your father nods slowly "It does sound appealing."

"Well, that’s very thoughtful of you, dear. I suppose we could use a quiet evening out."

Your mother looks at you with concern but you smile again, so she can go out without worries about you feeling left out.

Mike smirks internally.

Perfect.

✮ ⋆

As the last of the evening sunlight fades, Dann arrives at Mike’s studio, her face still clouded with remnants of anger from earlier. Mike is waiting for her, his usual smirk firmly in place as he watches her enter.

“You’re just in time,” He says, pouring himself another drink “I have one more task for you tonight.”

Dann crosses her arms “What now?”

Mike steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I know it’s cruel of me to force you into this, Dann, but you have to make sure they have sex.”

Dann’s breath catches in her throat “What?”

“You heard me,” Mike continues smoothly, tilting his head “YN is predictable. She’s been waiting for the perfect excuse to pull Hongjoong in closer. And now, with an empty house and him eager to have her forgiveness, it’s going to happen.”

Dann swallows hard, torn between hesitation and the deep-seated anger still burning inside her.

He leans in just a little “Only if they do, we can move forward with the plan.”

Dann clenches her fists but nods “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Mike grins, satisfied. Everything is falling into place.

“Good, see you later then.”

✮ ⋆

YN♡: Come over tonight. You still owe me an apology.

The moment your mother announces that she, your father and Mike won’t be back until later, you seize the opportunity.

An empty house—well, if you ignore the maids—is something you can’t let go to waste.

You smirk as your phone vibrates with a response. You already knew what it would say. He never could resist you.

Joongie♡: I’ll be there in thirty.

Satisfied, you set your phone down and head to the shower, letting the warm water soothe your skin. You take your time, indulging in a long, relaxing bath before stepping out, your mind already set on what comes next.

A pretty white lingerie set—delicate lace, soft satin—makes you look innocent, almost angelic. The irony makes you smile.

You add lacy stockings, white heels, the perfect complement to the illusion of purity you’re crafting. With a final touch of mascara and lip gloss, you stare at your reflection, knowing exactly the effect this will have on him.

Are you putting in all this effort for a gorgeous nerd?

Yes, you are.

A silk robe drapes over your body, shielding the little surprise you’ve prepared. You don’t even know why you’re trying so hard—why the thought of him seeing you like this sends an unfamiliar flutter through your stomach.

A soft knock at the door pulls you from your thoughts.

His voice follows, hesitant but warm "Pretty?"

One last glance in the mirror, one deep breath, and you step toward the door.

The second you open it, Hongjoong’s sweet smile falters. His eyes widen, sweeping over you in stunned silence. Leaning casually against the doorframe, you look effortless, untouchable—until you decide otherwise.

"Took you long enough, nerd." You tease, stepping aside to let him in.

He swallows hard, quickly averting his gaze "I had to make sure my mom believes my lie."

You arch a brow "You lied to your mom? What did you tell her?"

"Pretty, it’s almost eight," He mutters, rubbing the back of his neck "If I told her I was coming here, she’d start making assumptions. So I told her I was going to the movies with Yunho and Yeosang."

You tilt your head, amused "So you lied… just to make it up to me?" You step closer, fingers lightly tugging at the collar of his shirt "Right?"

Hongjoong exhales sharply, his resolve crumbling under your touch.

"Yeah…"

A victorious smile curves your lips

"Then prove it."

You turn and walk to the bed, sitting at the edge with slow, deliberate ease, watching as he hesitates. You pat your thigh, tilting your chin up

"Kneel."

His breath catches.

For a second, he doesn’t move, like his brain short-circuited at the command. You can practically hear his internal battle—his nerves screaming at him to overthink, to doubt, but his obsession with you outweighing everything else.

Then, as if pulled by an invisible string, he obeys.

Hongjoong kneels between your legs, hands clenched at his sides, gaze locked onto yours with a mixture of awe and pure, unfiltered longing.

He looks so shy, so adorably uncertain, like he can’t believe he’s here, like he doesn’t know where to start.

"You’re nervous," You murmur, your fingers trailing along his jawline.

He exhales shakily "You… You make it hard to think."

"Good."

You lean in, your lips ghosting over his, teasing but not quite giving in. He whimpers—an actual whimper—his fingers twitching against his thighs as if fighting the urge to touch you.

You smirk, dragging your nails lightly down his arms.

"Relax, Joongie."

But he’s trembling, overwhelmed, his whole body wound tight like a spring.

"I— I don’t wanna mess this up," He admits, his voice laced with vulnerability.

That softens you.

You cup his face, your thumb brushing over his cheek before trailing down, lower, your touch both gentle and deliberate.

"You won’t," You assure him "Just stop holding back."

And when you finally kiss him—really kiss him—he melts.

Because no matter how nervous he is, no matter how much he overthinks, there’s one thing he knows for sure.

He’d do anything to prove himself to you.

The kiss deepens, slow and deliberate, and you feel the way he shivers beneath your touch. His hands, still hesitant, finally find your waist, gripping the fabric of your robe as if grounding himself.

You pull back just enough to study him—flushed cheeks, parted lips, pupils blown wide with desire and uncertainty.

God, he’s adorable.

Then, your fingers reach up, and before he can react, you slide his glasses off.

Hongjoong stiffens "W-Wait—"

You hush him with a finger against his lips "You won’t need these tonight."

You fold the glasses and set them aside on the nightstand, watching the way he blinks rapidly, disoriented.

Without them, his gaze is softer, more vulnerable, as if you’ve stripped away yet another layer of his defenses.

"I… I can barely see you," He admits, flustered.

You smirk, running your hands through his hair before tugging lightly.

"Then feel me."

A strangled sound escapes him, and you swear you can see his last bit of restraint snap.

His hands tighten on your waist, his lips crashing back onto yours with newfound desperation. This time, he isn’t hesitating. He’s learning, exploring—his touch still unsure, but eager.

His kisses grow bolder, and when you shift, pulling him closer, he groans against your mouth, a sound so raw it makes your stomach flip.

"YN…" He breathes, your name falling from his lips like a plea, like a prayer.

You grin against his skin, dragging your nails lightly down his back, and he shudders, pressing himself closer.

"Good boy," You murmur, and the way his breath hitches tells you everything you need to know.

He’s completely, utterly yours and lost in you now.

The moment you murmur ‘Good boy,’ Hongjoong practically melts against you, his grip tightening, his breath uneven. His entire body responds to your touch, to your words, as if he’s been waiting for this—for you—to finally consume him.

His lips trail down your neck, hesitant at first, then bolder when you don’t stop him. Every movement is cautious, like he’s afraid to mess up, but you guide him effortlessly, tilting your head to give him more access.

"You're thinking too much," You whisper, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging slightly.

A soft groan escapes him, and his hands tighten on your waist.

"I just… I wanna do this right," He admits, his voice thick with emotion.

You lean back slightly, taking in the sight of him—flushed, breathless, pupils blown wide with desire and uncertainty. He’s so desperate to prove himself to you, to show you that he can be enough.

That he is enough.

Your fingers trail down his chest, slow and deliberate.

"You already are."

Hongjoong exhales shakily, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He’s still nervous, still overthinking—so you do what you do best.

You take control.

With a push, he’s on his knees before you, his hands resting on your thighs, looking up at you with something between awe and devotion.

"YN…" His voice is barely a whisper, but the way he says your name sends a shiver down your spine.

You cup his face, tilting it up so he has no choice but to look at you.

"You're mine, nerd."

Your voice is soft but firm—a quiet promise, a claim.

Hongjoong’s breath stutters, his hands tightening around your legs as if anchoring himself. His pupils are blown wide, his lips parted in something between reverence and disbelief.

"Yours," He breathes, like it’s the easiest thing he’s ever said.

And that’s all you need.

You pull him back up, claiming his lips once more. This time, there’s no hesitation, no restraint. You feel the shift in him—the anticipation, the desperation, the sheer need.

His hands tremble slightly as they slide up your arms, fingertips ghosting over the silk of your robe before carefully pushing it off your shoulders. It pools onto the mattress, forgotten.

When he pulls away, he doesn’t speak. He just looks at you, drinking you in, his breath caught somewhere in his throat.

Your lingerie leaves little to the imagination, and yet, to him, it’s everything.

He doesn’t know where he finds the confidence, doesn’t know what possesses him to move the way he does—but suddenly, his grip on your hips tightens. In a swift, uncalculated motion, he pushes you up the bed, his strength surprising even himself.

Your breath catches.

Fuck, that was hot.

"So you want me to apologize?" His voice is lower now, rougher, laced with something unfamiliar yet thrilling.

You blink, caught off guard. His shyness is gone, replaced by something bold, something raw. And you like it.

A smirk curves your lips "Yeah… Show me how much you want my forgiveness."

His answering smile is slow, teasing, almost wicked. It makes heat pool in your stomach, makes your fingers curl against the sheets.

And then he’s kissing you again—harder, deeper. This time, there’s no hesitation, no second-guessing.

Lust fuels every movement, every touch. His hand finds the curve of your waist, gripping just enough to make you gasp against his mouth. The other stays planted beside your head, keeping him steady.

When he pulls away, his breathing is ragged, his lips swollen and pink.

"Can I touch you?" His voice is barely above a whisper, yet it sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink up at him, momentarily confused—until you feel the light brush of his fingers at the hem of your lacy panties, tentative, seeking permission.

Your pulse skips.

He’s still your nerd, still the same awkward, blushing boy who would do anything for you.

But tonight, he wants to prove that he’s more.

And you’re going to let him.

You nod without hesitation, anticipation shimmering in your eyes. A slow, confident smile tugs at Hongjoong’s lips—one that sends a shiver down your spine.

His hands move with newfound boldness, sliding the fabric down your hips. You lift yourself slightly, helping him discard the last barrier between you.

Kneeling between your legs, he takes a shaky breath, his fingers grazing over your thighs, tracing the delicate lace of your stockings before pressing into your skin with a firm squeeze.

He has a perfect view of your already wet folds, he tilts his head, his eyes locked in your sticky core. His gaze is fixed—entranced—as if memorizing every inch of you.

You squirm under his stare, warmth creeping up your neck, but when you instinctively try to close your legs, he stops you, his hands tightening around your thighs.

"Don't hide from me," He murmurs, his voice lower than usual, filled with something deeper. Something reverent.

Your breath hitches as he leans in, his lips ghosting over your skin, leaving a trail of heat. You fist the sheets beneath you, trying to steady yourself, but when his tongue takes the first taste of your arousal, a soft gasp escapes your lips, fingers immediately tangling in his hair.

“Joong—” His name falls from your lips in a breathy moan, the sensation making your stomach coil with pleasure.

He hums against you, the vibration sending sparks through your veins. His movements are slow, careful, savoring every drop, every reaction, every shiver he pulls from you.

Your back arches, desperate for more, but before you can beg, he pulls away.

Your protest dies the moment he crashes his lips against yours, stealing your breath in a kiss that’s all tongue, heat, and desperation.

You taste yourself on him, the intimacy of it making your head spin.

"You taste so good, pretty." Hongjoong mutters against your lips, his voice husky. You whimper, trying to chase his lips again, but he chuckles softly "What do you need, baby?"

His words send a new wave of heat through you, your body reacting before your mind can catch up. His voice, his touch—everything about him is intoxicating.

"I need you," You breathe, nails dragging down his back "I need you to fuck me."

Hongjoong’s confidence wavers for the first time tonight. His grip on your waist trembles slightly, his breath uneven.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, hesitation flickering behind his dark-rimmed glasses.

Hongjoong has never done this before—at least, not like this. He has no sexual experience, the only experiences he's had are with you, but you didn't go beyond.

Every intimate moment you’ve shared up until now has been a slow buildup of tension.

But this? This is something else. Something bigger.

His fingers twitch against your skin as he exhales shakily, pressing his forehead against yours.

“I don’t want to mess this up.” He confesses, voice barely above a whisper.

Your expression softens. Reaching up, you cup his cheek, brushing your thumb over the flushed skin.

"You won't," You promise, kissing him gently, reassuringly "Just trust me."

And as he looks into your eyes, his nerves slowly melt away, replaced with something else entirely—something that makes your pulse quicken.

Because tonight, he isn’t just the shy nerd who worships you.

Tonight, he’s yours.

You notice the shift in his body language—how his muscles tense, how uncertainty flickers behind his dark eyes.

You know why.

Without hesitation, you shift positions, guiding him onto his back until he’s lying beneath you. Your thighs bracket his hips, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you straddle him.

Hongjoong stares up at you, wide-eyed, breath caught somewhere between surprise and anticipation.

You giggle softly, leaning down so your lips hover just above his.

"Don’t worry, Joongie," You murmur, tracing your fingers over his collarbone "I’ll teach you how to fuck me properly later."

His lips part slightly, but before he can respond, you close the distance, capturing his mouth in another kiss. Slow. Deep. Reassuring.

You pour everything into it—every bit of desire, every bit of unspoken reassurance—silencing any lingering doubts he might have.

You need him to understand that his inexperience doesn’t matter. That you don’t care. The only thing that matters is this.

Him. His first time—his first experience—with you and only you.

You feel him relax beneath you, his hands finally moving, trailing up your sides with a newfound confidence. His grip tightens slightly on your hips, fingers pressing into your skin as if grounding himself in the moment.

Encouraged, you reach for the hem of his jeans, unfastening the button, lowering the zipper with deliberate slowness. He tenses again—but this time, not from hesitation.

His breath hitches when your fingers brush against his already hard crotch, and his grip on you tightens as you start to ease his jeans down, taking his underwear with them.

Fuck, this is really going to happen.

Hongjoong’s mind starts to race in negative thoughts as you take his length in your hand.

‘Don’t mess this up. Where does he put his hands? Is this okay? Should he ask? No, asking sounds lame. But what if—’

“Hongjoong.” You call him, noticing his demeanor. Of course, you do. You always see right through him.

He lets out a shaky breath, looking up at you with nothing but need in his gaze, you know—he’s yours.

“Yes?”

Your fingers brush against his jaw, tilting his face up so your eyes meet. You smirk, your voice low and teasing.

“Relax, nerd. You think too much, if you are nervous you're not going to enjoy it.” You say with tenderness as you lift his shirt, Hongjoong noticing your intentions, sits down to help you to remove it “It’s okay, it’s your first time and I know you are overthinking it.”

You murmur leaning closer to press a soft kiss in his lips, trying to calm him, and it works. He hums kissing you back, his hands now on your thighs and his hips jerking a little.

Your hand never stopped stroking him, making Hongjoong gasp in your mouth.

He closes his eyes lying down again, letting the pleasure invade his body, letting your touch calm him.

You bit your lip at the sight, his pretty face with a grimace of pleasure, his bare chest, his hands gripping your flesh, and his long dick, tip bright red dripping pre-cum.

Shit, you could cum only by seeing him like this.

“Are you ready, babe?” You ask softly, raising your hips to rub his tip in your sticky folds.

He opens his eyes, breathing heavily and locking his eyes with yours. He slowly nods, he's ready to do this, he's ready to give you all of it.

You can see a hint of nervousness in his eyes, so you lean back to kiss him to distract his mind from the first time.

As you kiss you slowly place his tip on your tight hole, you close your eyes at the stretch, it's been a long time since the last time you got intimate with someone.

And that someone was Seonghwa.

Completely sinking on his length, both of you moan. The stretch is exquisite, his long cock filling you completely.

You gasp out his name as you stay still for a moment, letting Hongjoong process it and adjust. His eyes are close and his hands grip your thighs.

“Are you okay? Can I move?” You murmur against his parted lips.

“Y-yes.. you can move.”

He nods, opening his eyes, watching you straighten up and place your hands on his chest for support. Hongjoong lets out a choked whimper when you start moving, the pace is slow but firm.

Immediately his head collapses on the pillow, eyes shut and hands rushing to grab your hips.

Holy fuck, this is better than he imagined the sex would be.

Your hips moving deliciously, your hands on his chest, your head tilting back in pleasure, your little whimpers, the light sound of slapping everytime your bodies connect.

Shit, this is heaven for him.

“Fuck, J-joong… You feel so good.” You pant almost urgently, you take one of his hands to place it directly on one of your breasts “Please touch me, babe..”

And he does, without hesitation he kneads your breast with a firm grip as his other hand gently helps you guide your hips upward.

For Hongjoong the sight is amazing, as you move up and down he is able to see how his cock disappears in your tight cunt.

"Fuck, baby." Hongjoong groans, his voice rough, strained with desire.

Before you can fully process it, he moves—swift and instinctive—flipping you onto your back, his body pressing down against yours.

A surprised gasp leaves your lips, but there’s no hesitation, no resistance. If anything, the shift only sends a new wave of heat flooding through you.

He hovers over you, breath uneven, eyes dark with something raw and unfiltered. His hands find your thighs, gripping tight as he spreads them further apart, settling between them like he was always meant to be there.

The way he looks at you—like he’s seeing you for the first time, like he wants to memorize every inch of you—sends a shiver up your spine.

His lips crash onto yours again, but this time, there’s no hesitation, no uncertainty. Only hunger. A desperate need to be closer, to feel you, to lose himself in you. The kiss deepens, all tongue, heat, and breathless moans.

He pulls away just enough to look at you, his forehead pressing against yours, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushes his dick inside your cunt again.

A broken moan slips from your lips, your fingers immediately flying to his back, nails digging in as he stretches you open.

He groans at the feeling, at the way your body welcomes him so perfectly, so warmly.

“Shit,” Hongjoong gasps, voice trembling as he buries himself deeper “You—fuck... you feel so good.”

Your legs wrap around him, pulling him impossibly closer, your body arching into him as pleasure blooms in waves.

You don’t even have words—just whimpers, just gasps, just the sound of his name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

He starts moving, slow at first, as if savoring every second. But the more you moan, the more you beg for more, the faster, rougher, deeper his thrusts become.

The room is filled with the sound of bodies moving in sync, breathless cries, the rhythmic creaking of the bed beneath you.

And in this moment, nothing else exists—just him, just you, just the overwhelming pleasure of finally having each other like this.

✮ ⋆

Outside, just beyond the door, Dann lingers in the shadows of the hallway. Her heart pounds in her chest as she listens, her fingers curled tightly around the hem of her sweater.

She feels sick. Angry. Humiliated all over again.

But she has a job to do.

She inches closer, careful to keep her footsteps silent against the polished floors. The muffled sound of movement reaches her ears—the rustle of sheets, the creak of the bed frame, your muffled moans.

Her stomach twists.

Carefully, she opens the door, letting a little space to see inside.

She immediately put her hands over her mouth while tears formed in her eyes. That scene in front of her eyes just makes her feel worse than that day at Wooyoung’s party, this time it feels more intimate, something that she shouldn't have been watching…

Something that she would never get to do with him.

‘Make sure they go through with it. We need this to work.’

Dann swallows hard. She shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be watching, shouldn’t feel like her entire world is crashing down around her.

But she closes the door, she stays.

Because this is just the beginning of your end.

✮ ⋆

Your hands tremble as you cling to him, his body pressed against yours, his warmth surrounding you like a force you never knew you needed this desperately.

“H-hongjoong…”

His name falls from your lips over and over, each syllable carrying the weight of everything you feel—the longing, the surrender, the undeniable connection weaving you together in ways neither of you fully understands yet.

Hongjoong moves above you with a newfound confidence, no longer hesitant, no longer doubting.

He follows the rhythm of your bodies, of your moans, of the way you gasp his name like it’s the only word you know.

His body begins to get tired, but he doesn’t stop—doesn’t dare stop—not when you feel this good, this right beneath him.

"Pretty..." He groans, forehead pressed to yours, voice thick with something more than just lust "I can't—fuck, I’m gonna—”

You can feel him unraveling, just as you are. It builds like a slow-burning fire, the pleasure coiling tight, higher and higher, until there’s no stopping it.

His fingers find yours, interlocking, pinning your hands above your head, grounding you to him. He kisses you—deep, desperate, like he wants to pour every unspoken emotion into it.

And when you fall apart, it’s not just pleasure that washes over you—it’s him. It’s the way he worships you with every touch, every thrust, every whispered moan against your lips.

You shatter together, his name a soft cry on your lips, his breath a broken gasp against your skin.

He collapses on top of you, breathless and with a dumb smile, he holds you as if afraid you’ll disappear, his arms wrapped around you like you’re something sacred.

And in that moment, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whispering your name like a prayer, you realize—this isn’t just about desire.

This is something more.

Something deeper.

Something that neither of you can walk away from.

After a couple of minutes, the room is quiet now, except for the soft sounds of your mingled breaths, still uneven, still recovering.

Your bodies are tangled in the sheets, his warmth pressed against you as if he has no intention of letting go. His skin is slightly damp, and you can feel his heart racing beneath your palm, its rhythm slowing as the moments pass.

Neither of you speaks right away. There’s no need. The silence is comfortable, wrapped around you like the soft glow of the dim bedside lamp.

Hongjoong shifts slightly, just enough to press a lazy kiss against your shoulder before letting out a deep, satisfied sigh.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles, voice husky and thick with exhaustion.

You smile, brushing your fingers through his tousled hair.

“You always say that, Joong.”

He huffs, lifting his head just enough to look at you. His eyes, even in the dim light, are full of something so soft, so unguarded, it makes your heart clench.

“I mean it every time.” He murmurs.

Your chest tightens, and instead of answering, you cup his face, guiding him into a slow, lingering kiss. It’s different from before—no urgency, no desperation.

Just warmth. Just the quiet reassurance that this moment is real.

Hongjoong hums against your lips before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours.

“I feel like I should say something cool right now,” He admits, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckle, running a thumb over his cheek.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Something suave. Like in the movies.” He pauses “But my brain is kinda mush right now.”

You laugh, and he grins, obviously pleased with himself for making you do so.

For a while, you just lay there, exchanging kisses, whispering about nothing and everything—your favorite movies, how ridiculous Hongjoong looks when he squints without his glasses, how the ceiling has a tiny crack that you’ve never noticed before.

Eventually, the night catches up to you both, and your eyelids grow heavy.

Hongjoong lets out a small sigh, shifting slightly, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he tightens his hold around you, burying his face in your hair.

“I should probably go home.” He mumbles, though he makes no effort to leave.

You hum in response, tracing small patterns on his back.

“You could stay.”

He goes still for a moment before pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“If I do, I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave.”

Your heart stutters at his words, and instead of responding, you just hold him closer.

Eventually, with a reluctant sigh, Hongjoong forces himself to sit up. You watch as he searches for his clothes, his movements slow, almost hesitant.

Before he can put his glasses back on, you reach out, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey,” You whisper.

He looks at you, and for a moment, you just stare at each other. Then, without thinking, you pull him back down for one last kiss—soft, sweet, and lingering.

When you finally pull away, he smiles against your lips.

“You’re dangerous.”

You smirk “And you love it.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he finally gets dressed. But just as he’s about to leave, you sit up, biting your lip, feeling something unfamiliar and terrifying tighten in your chest.

“Hongjoong.” You say, and he pauses at the door, turning back to you.

You hesitate for a moment, the words sitting heavy on your tongue. It’s not easy for you to be vulnerable—not like this.

But with him, it feels… safe.

“Maybe,” You start, voice softer than usual “Maybe we could try something.”

He blinks “Something?”

You swallow, forcing yourself to hold his gaze “You know… something more. Like, actually trying.”

Understanding dawns on his face, his mouth parts slightly, his fingers tightening around the strap of his bag as if grounding himself.

Then, slowly, a smile—small, disbelieving, but full of something devastatingly tender—spreads across his lips.

“Are you serious?” He asks, voice careful, like he’s afraid you might take it back.

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms “Forget it, nerd.”

“No, no, no!” He’s quick to step back toward the bed, hands raised in surrender “I just—I wasn’t expecting that.”

You huff, looking away, but he reaches out, gently tilting your chin back toward him.

“I want that,” He says, voice steady now “I want you.”

Something inside you melts, and before you can second-guess yourself, you pull him into another kiss.

When he finally leaves, there’s a different kind of warmth in your chest—one that has nothing to do with what just happened in bed.

And for the first time in a long time, the idea of something real, something more… doesn’t scare you as much as it used to.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The night air was cool as Hongjoong slipped back into his house, the door creaking softly as he closed it behind him.

This night with you was incredible, the night lingering in his mind like a sweet memory he never wanted to fade.

But as he entered the living room, the atmosphere felt heavier than usual.

His parents sat together on the couch, their faces drawn, their eyes clouded with worry. His mother’s fingers trembled around a cup of tea she hadn’t touched, and his father’s usually composed demeanor was cracked.

“Dear, there you are,” His mother says softly, her voice tight with concern “We need to talk.”

Hongjoong’s stomach drops. He’d never seen them like this before “What’s wrong?”

His father clears his throat, looking at him with a mixture of sadness and determination.

“I lost my job today.”

Hongjoong frezee. His mind can’t immediately process the words. His father had always been the pillar of stability in the house.

“What? But… I thought everything was going well.”

“It was,” His father replies, rubbing his temples “But the economy’s taken a toll, and the company had to make cuts. I’m part of that.”

Hongjoong’s heart sank as the weight of the situation began to settle in. His family wasn’t rich. They managed, but losing one income meant things would get tight.

They needed a solution.

“We’ll need to figure something out, Honey,” His mother adds, her voice breaking “We can’t cover everything without a steady income.”

Hongjoong clenches his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him. He doesn’t want to see his parents struggling.

“I’ll get a job,” He says quickly, the words tumbling out before he has time to think them through “I’ll work. I can help.”

His parents exchanged a look, but his mother smiled faintly, her eyes filled with pride.

“Joong, you don’t have to—”

“No,” He interrupts, “I want to. I can help with expenses. Don’t worry about me. I’ll find something.”

His parents look at him with a mixture of pride and sadness, but they don’t argue.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Morning light filters through the grand windows of the estate, casting long shadows across the pristine floors. Dann moves through the halls like a ghost, her steps light, her eyes hollow.

The weight of last night clings to her like a second skin, suffocating, unbearable.

She barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it again.

The way he touched you. The way you let him. The way he whispered your name like it meant something.

Her stomach churns, and she grips the strap of her bag tighter, forcing herself to focus. She just needs to get out of here, get to school, get some air—

“You look awful.”

Dann freezes.

Mike stands at the end of the hallway, leaning casually against the doorframe of his bedroom, dressed in his usual expensive attire, a cup of coffee in one hand. He looks well-rested, refreshed.

Completely unaffected.

Her pulse stutters, but she doesn’t stop walking “I need to go.”

But Mike doesn’t move. Instead, he lifts his coffee to his lips, takes a slow sip, and smirks.

“Not before you tell me what I need to know.”

Dann clenches her jaw, her feet slowing to a reluctant stop. She doesn’t want to talk about this. She doesn’t want to think about it.

But Mike doesn’t have patience for hesitation. He tilts his head slightly, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Did it happen?”

Her throat tightens. The words taste like poison

“Yes.”

Mike hums, pleased “Good.”

Dann grips her bag harder, her nails digging into her palms. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how humiliating it was, how painful it was to watch.

And then, just as she feared, he leans in slightly, voice lowering conspiratorially.

“Now, you need to start talking.”

She frowns “Talking?”

“You know how these things go, Dann,” He says, waving a hand lazily “Whispers spread faster than fire in that school. All you need to do is plant the seeds.”

Dann swallows “What are you saying?”

Mike smirks, stepping closer “Make sure everyone knows that the nerd finally got what he wanted. That once he got YN into bed, he lost interest. That he only chased her because she was a challenge—nothing more.”

Dann stiffens, her nails pressing into her skin “That’s not true.”

“Who cares?” He chuckles “Truth is irrelevant. What matters is perception.” He takes another sip of coffee before adding, “And as for YN? Well… make sure they see her for what she really is.” He pauses, then smirks cruelly “A desperate little whore.”

Dann flinches. Her stomach churns.

Miek studies her reaction, then sighs “Don’t tell me last night was too much for you.”

She lifts her chin, forcing her expression into something cold, detached.

“I’ll do it.”

He grins, satisfied “Perfect.”

And with that, he steps aside, letting her pass like he didn’t just shatter the last piece of her heart.

Dann forces herself to walk away. To keep moving. To pretend that she doesn’t feel like she’s falling apart.

Because this is just the beginning.

And there’s no turning back now.

✮ ⋆

The library is quieter than usual, the murmur of hushed conversations barely filling the vast space between the shelves. The scent of old books lingers in the air, but Dann barely notices it as she walks in, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

She spots them instantly—Jongho, Yunho, and Yeosang—huddled together at a corner table, deep in conversation over an open textbook.

They don’t notice her at first, too focused on whatever pointless discussion they’re having. But they will.

Taking a slow breath, Dann straightens her shoulders and approaches their table. She places her hands flat against the polished wood, her voice steady despite the turmoil in her chest.

“Guess what.”

Jongho looks up first, brows raising in mild surprise. Yunho and Yeosang follow, exchanging glances before turning their attention to her.

“What is it, little one?” Yunho asks, leaning back in his chair.

Dann lets the silence stretch just long enough to draw curiosity. Then, with careful precision, she says.

“It’s about Joong.”

That gets their attention. Yeosang frowns, setting down his pen, while Jongho’s expression turns wary.

Yunho, however, snorts “What, YN banned him again?”

Dann forces herself to look hesitant, conflicted. Then she exhales and shakes her head.

“No, nothing like that. But…” She glances around, lowering her voice just enough to make them lean in “But I heard something last night. Something about him and YN.”

Yeosang tilts his head “What do you mean?”

Dann bites her lip, like she’s debating whether or not to say it. And then, just loud enough for the surrounding students to hear, she murmurs.

“I heard them.”

Yunho blinks “Heard them?”

She leans in, just slightly “Having sex.”

Silence crashes over the table like a tidal wave. Jongho’s eyes widen, Yeosang shifts uncomfortably, and Yunho lets out a low whistle.

Around them, the subtle rustling of books ceases. The library isn’t silent anymore—not really. Not when whispers have already started creeping through the aisles.

“No way,” Yeosang mutters.

Dann shrugs, feigning nonchalance “I was at the house. I heard everything.” Then, after a pause, she adds the final touch, the poison that will spread like wildfire “And you know what’s funny? He hasn’t even talked to her today.”

Jongho frowns “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Dann lowers her voice, but she knows they’re listening—everyone is listening.

“That maybe Hongjoong only wanted one thing. Maybe he was chasing her for a reason. And now that he got what he wanted…” She lets the words linger before shaking her head, looking almost pitying “Well, you can figure out the rest.”

Yunho looks uncertain “Dann, Hongjoong isn’t like that.”

Jongho, however, doesn’t seem convinced. He narrows his eyes at her.

“Why are you telling us this?”

Dann meets his gaze evenly “Because you’re his friends. And friends deserve to know the truth.”

She doesn’t wait for their response. She just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving behind a table of stunned boys and an entire library already buzzing with the news.

And just like that, the seed is planted.

✮ ⋆

The cafeteria hums with the usual morning chaos—laughter, the clatter of trays, the low murmur of gossip weaving through the air like an unshakable presence.

You sit at your usual table, gracefully stirring your iced matcha with a straw, your expression relaxed.

After yesterday night you have been feeling like that, relaxed. You don't know if it's because you got laid or because it was with Hongjoong.

Your phone sits next to you, Hongjoong’s message from earlier still lighting up the screen. You tap your nails against the table absently, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

Joongie♡: Good morning, pretty. I won't go to school today :c

Joongie♡: See you tomorrow. Love you ♡

You don't mind that he isn’t here today. If anything, it keeps things interesting—gives him a chance to miss you.

But the moment of peace doesn’t last.

Wooyoung slides into the seat across from you, his face twisted in something between amusement and hesitation. Mingi follows right after, dropping his bag onto the bench with a sigh.

"You won’t believe what we just heard during practice, babydoll." Woo starts, resting his chin on his hand, eyes flicking over you carefully.

You don't look up from your drink "If it’s about last season’s failures, I really don’t care."

Mingi exhales, shaking his head "It’s about you. And the little nerd."

That catches your attention. You raise a perfectly arched brow.

"What about us?"

Wooyoung exchanges a glance with Mingi before leaning in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to make it sound more scandalous than necessary.

"Apparently, half the school thinks little Hongjoong finally got what he wanted from you… and now he’s done with you."

You blink. For a second, you just stare at him, then let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

"That’s ridiculous, guys."

"Yeah? Because it’s spreading like wildfire, babydoll." Woo says, voice more serious "People are saying he just wanted to sleep with you, and now that he has, he’s gonna drop you."

You roll your eyes, completely unbothered "You’re actually listening to this nonsense?"

Mingi tilts his head "I mean… The nerd is mysteriously absent today."

You scoff "He told me this morning that he wasn’t coming. He’s busy. This rumor is stupid."

But Mingi doesn’t look convinced "I’m just saying, doll, people are talking. You know how fast things spread in this school."

"I don’t care what people say," You cut in smoothly, picking up your drink again "Hongjoong wouldn’t do that. He’s—"

You pause.

He’s been sweet, devoted, always there. Hongjoong wouldn’t do that. Right?

Still, you push the thought away and fix them with a sharp look.

"Who started this stupid rumor?"

Mingi shrugs "Not sure, but people are saying Dann was the one who heard… something."

You still for half a second before exhaling slowly "Dann?"

Woo nods, stirring his own drink "Yeah. Apparently, she’s been telling people she heard you two…" He waggles his brows suggestively.

Your jaw tightens, your grip on her cup firm.

That bitch.

You knew Dann had always been lurking in the background, watching, waiting. But this? Spreading rumors about you and Hongjoong? That was low—even for a pathetic nerd.

But it doesn’t matter.

You exhale, letting your usual confidence settle back over you like armor.

"Let them talk," You say coolly, taking a slow sip of your drink "They’ll get bored soon enough."

But deep inside, a nagging feeling lingers.

And for the first time, she wonders. What if they’re right?

✮ ⋆

Hongjoong steps out of his house early, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets as he walks down the quiet streets of his neighborhood. His parents had already left—his mom to work, his dad to search for a new job.

He exhales, determination settling in his chest. He needs to help.

Skipping school wasn’t something he’d normally do, but this was more important. Finding a job meant easing the burden on his parents, making sure they didn’t have to worry so much.

He starts at a small convenience store a few blocks away.

“Sorry, kid. We’re not hiring right now.” The owner says with an apologetic smile.

Hongjoong nods, forcing a polite thank-you before heading to the next place.

A bakery.

“No positions open.”

A bookstore.

“We’re looking for someone with experience.”

A restaurant.

“Come back in a month. Maybe.”

By the afternoon, exhaustion creeps into his bones. He’s been walking around the city for hours, hearing rejection after rejection. His feet ache, his stomach grumbles, but he keeps going. He has to.

He checks his phone—past three o’clock. School was almost over. You had texted him earlier, but he hadn’t checked it yet.

He didn’t want you to worry, so he’d told you he’d see you tomorrow.

With a sigh, he rubs his face and glances around. His house is too far, but he decides to check one last place before heading home.

That’s when he spots it—Café Aurora.

A small, warm-looking café tucked between two buildings, the scent of coffee and pastries spilling into the air as a customer steps out.

He hesitates for a second, then pushes the door open.

The café is cozy, filled with soft chatter and the clinking of cups. A few students sit in the corner, studying. A couple shares a quiet conversation over steaming mugs.

Hongjoong walks up to the counter, his heart pounding slightly.

A girl stands behind the counter, wiping down the surface. She looks up at him, and her eyes widen slightly before she flashes him a bright smile.

“Hey there! Welcome to Café Aurora. What can I get you?”

She’s short, wavy brown hair pulled into a loose ponytail, bright eyes, a dimple on one cheek. Her name tag reads ‘Jina.’

Hongjoong clears his throat “Uh, actually… I was wondering if you guys are hiring?”

Jina blinks, then grins “Oh, really? Hang on.”

She disappears into the back, and Hongjoong lets out a breath. Please let this work.

A moment later, she returns with a middle-aged man in a dark apron.

“This is Mr. Lee, the owner.”

“You’re looking for a job?” Mr. Lee asks, crossing his arms.

“Yes, sir. I can work after school and on weekends.”

“You ever worked as a waiter before?”

Hongjoong shakes his head “No, but I’m a fast learner.”

The girl giggles “He looks like a fast learner.”

He glances at her, thrown off by the teasing tone. But Mr. Lee doesn’t seem to notice.

“We could use someone in the evenings. Can you start tomorrow?”

Hongjoong’s eyes widen slightly. Really?

“Yes! I mean—yeah, I can.” He says quickly.

Mr. Lee nods “Jina will train you. Don’t be late.”

Hongjoong exhales in relief “Thank you.”

As Mr. Lee walks away, Jina leans on the counter, resting her chin on her palm.

“You’re cute when you’re nervous.” She says suddenly.

Hongjoong blinks. What did she say?

“I—uh—thanks?” He stammers.

She just grins “See you tomorrow, newbie.”

He leaves the café with a new job and a strange feeling in his chest. He finally found work. That’s all that should matter.

So why does he feel like things just got a little more complicated?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The usual morning buzz fills the hallways—students chatting by their lockers, laughter echoing from different corners, the occasional shout of someone running late to class.

You walk through the hall with your usual confidence, heels clicking against the polished floor.

You’re aware of the lingering stares, the hushed whispers—the rumor hasn’t died down completely.

But you don't acknowledge them. You act as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Because to you, it’s ridiculous.

Hongjoong wouldn’t use you. Joong isn’t like that.

You spot him near his locker, talking with Jongho and Yunho. He’s laughing at something Yunho said, his head tilted slightly as he shakes his head.

Something warm blooms in your chest at the sight of him.

You saunter up to them, flipping your hair back “Morning, nerds.”

Hongjoong looks up, and just like always, his face softens when he sees you.

“Hey, pretty.”

You smirk at the nickname, ignoring how Yunho and Jongho exchange knowing looks.

You step closer to him, slipping your fingers into the front pocket of his leather jacket like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Hongjoong doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into your touch, his free hand brushing against your waist in a casual, familiar way.

They’ve always been close. But now, their closeness is undeniable.

Jongho clears his throat, smirking “You two look… cozy.”

“Yeah, should we give you some privacy?” Yunho teases.

You roll your eyes “You guys are so annoying, that's why we cannot be friends.” Hongjoong just chuckles. You turn to him, tilting your head slightly “Do you wanna do something after school? Maybe go to that new place downtown?”

You expect a quick yes. He never says no to you.

But this time, he hesitates. Just for a second.

Then, he rubs the back of his neck and says “I can’t, pretty. I’ll be busy.”

You blink “Busy?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t elaborate.

It’s… weird.

Hongjoong always makes time for you. Even when he had schoolwork, even when he had plans with his friends.

You come first.

And now, suddenly, he’s busy?

But you don't press. You just shrug, masking any hint of curiosity or doubt.

“Okay. Your loss.”

He chuckles, leaning down slightly “You mad?”

You scoff “Why would I be mad?”

He grins “Because you’re used to getting what you want.”

You roll your eyes but don't deny it. Instead, you lean up and press a quick kiss to his cheek before stepping back.

“Fine, I’ll let you off the hook—just this once.”

Hongjoong watches you with something unreadable in his eyes, but before you can question it, the bell rings.

“See you later, nerd.” You wave, walking off.

He watches you go, a small smile on his lips. But in the back of his mind, he knows—This is the first time he’s ever lied to you.

And it won’t be the last.

The following days felt different. Hongjoong kept his distance from you, his mind consumed with work and worrying about how to help his family.

He didn’t want to burden you with his struggles. You had your own world—one he wasn’t sure he belonged to anymore.

You, of course, didn’t know. Hongjoong kept his family’s situation quiet, not wanting anyone, especially you, to feel sorry for him. But it was hard.

The afternoons you used to spend together seemed further away now, and Hongjoong didn’t know how to bridge the gap that was forming between you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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