Mingi Randomly Telling Reader Facts Oh I Would Fold And The Painting 🥹🥹🥹🥹

"oh my love, how i wish we had more time together."

Is that a reincarnation lovers trope I sense?!?

I’m curious to learn more about reader and their love also if wooyoung would make any wishes.

Keep up the amazing work I always love reading your stories <3

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓲𝓮 𝓘𝓷 𝓐 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 「III」

๋࣭⭑ pairing : wooyoung x reader ๋࣭⭑ au : non idol! | strangers to lovers | slow burn ๋࣭⭑ genre: fluff | crack | angst ๋࣭⭑summary: wooyoung birthday didn't go as planned / getting to know yn the genie 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ➜ @chanceonceli

yn sat in her bottle, the room she grown to know and tidy for the past who knows how long. Her last master dying from old age or was it from a plague? She can't remember but she felt relief when she was summoned.

Now, was she expecting eight gorgeous men to have been surrounding her? No, absolutely not but she definitely enjoyed it. Seeing their shocked faces when she introduced herself.

Yn let out small sigh as she picked up a small picture frame of a male, who shared such striking familiarity to her new master.

" oh my love, how i wish we had more time together."

The moment hung in the air, heavy with nostalgia and unspoken words. Yn traced the outline of the man in the picture, his smile warm and inviting. The room felt colder without him, a stark reminder of the past she could never reclaim.

Her small room contain of a queen size bed, bookshelves lining the walls and a window that can show her the surroundings if she so wishes to see.

" i'm sure master wooyoung wouldn't mind me peaking..." She mumbled, stepping towards the closed window.

As the window open she can see her master with another female, the other men standing around awkwardly. Yn noticed how her master felt uncomfortable and she wanted nothing more then to go out and help him. But atlas, she can not as she was not summoned.

" why would you get vanilla? You know i hate vanilla" The women whined.

" because it's my birthday Minyoung, not yours. Seonghwa hyung baked it for me." Wooyoung said, fumbled with his fingers.

Minyoung rolled her eyes, not noticing the tension that grew in the room. Crossing her arms, she leaned back onto the couch as Wooyoung began to cut the cake. Yn felt awful for her new master as she can notice the sad look on his face.

As Wooyoung sliced through the vanilla cake, the knife trembled slightly in his hand. He tried to put on a cheerful expression, but it was clear that Minyoung's comment had deflated his excitement. Seonghwa had put effort into baking the cake, and Wooyoung had been eagerly waiting to share it with everyone.

Sensing the shift in mood, Seonghwa cleared his throat, trying to ease the atmosphere. "Wooyoung, you want me to help with the candles?" he asked softly, his tone gentle.

Wooyoung nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, that’d be great, hyung." As they set the candles and lit them, he glanced over at Minyoung, who was still oblivious to the disappointment her words had caused.

Yn wished she could say something to lighten Wooyoung's spirits, but her role kept her from interfering. Instead, she silently vowed to find a way to bring a genuine smile back to his face.

As the door closed behind Minyoung and the boys, Wooyoung slumped back onto the couch, the last traces of his usual lively energy completely drained. His gaze drifted to the half-eaten cake, the remnants of what was supposed to be a happy moment. He ran a hand through his hair, a sigh escaping him as he looked down, shoulders sagging.

His eyes wonder to the bottle, his hands already reaching for it. Wooyoung’s fingers graze the bottle, his touch delicate yet filled with a silent yearning. He held the bottle carefully, almost reverently, as if afraid it might disappear if he grasped it too tightly.

“Yn… Ms. Genie?” His voice was soft, laced with a mixture of hope and hesitation, as though he wasn’t quite sure if he should be asking. He looked at her, his eyes reflecting the vulnerability he so rarely showed to others.

Yn appeared before him in an instant, gracefully lowering herself until she was eye level with him. With a gentle smile, she took the bottle from his hands and set it back on the table, her movements calming and careful. She wanted him to know she was here, ready to listen, ready to be whatever he needed her to be in that moment.

“Hello, Master Wooyoung,” she greeted softly, her voice warm and soothing. Her gaze held his, filled with quiet understanding, as she saw the sadness still lingering in his eyes.

Wooyoung swallowed, trying to steady his voice. “You know… you don’t have to call me ‘Master.’ Just Wooyoung is fine.”

Yn’s smile softened even further, a hint of playfulness entering her expression. “Old habits, I suppose. But if it makes you feel better… Wooyoung,” she replied, dropping the formal title just for him.

yn bit her lip, pondering is she should ask about the rude women that was here early but from the way she can see how upset her master is

Yn bit her lip, hesitating as she glanced at Wooyoung’s downcast expression. Part of her wanted to ask about the woman who’d been here earlier—the one whose words had so clearly hurt him. But seeing the sadness still lingering in his eyes, she decided against it, not wanting to bring up something that might deepen his hurt.

" yn "

" yes Wooyoung?"

" tell me about yourself"

Yn blinked in surprise, not expecting the question. She’d grown so used to listening, to being there for others and focusing on their needs, that it felt almost strange to have the attention turned to her.

Wooyoung nodded, leaning forward slightly. “I do. We might as well since we'll have a lifetime together.”

Yn gave him a soft smile, a warmth blooming in her chest at his words. “Alright. Where to start?” She paused, thinking for a moment. “I’ve been… well, ‘here’ for as long as I can remember. My life has mostly been about helping others, like you,” she said, her tone gentle. “I may not know everything about the world beyond these walls, but I’ve always found joy in being of service.”

Wooyoung listened intently, his expression thoughtful. “So, you’ve never really had a life of your own?”

She shook her head, though there was no sadness in her eyes—only acceptance. “Not in the way you have, no. But I don’t mind. I feel… fulfilled, I suppose, knowing that I can make a difference in someone else’s life. Even if it’s in little ways.”

Wooyoung’s gaze softened. “But… do you ever wonder what it would be like to do something just for you? To have a wish of your own?”

Yn hesitated, a flicker of longing crossing her face. “Maybe sometimes,” she admitted quietly.

Wooyoung let out a soft hum, watching Yn with a thoughtful expression. He took in the way her gaze drifted, as if she were seeing something far beyond the room they sat in. A smile placed on his lip as he silently thanked Yunho and Mingi for the gift.

I need someone to hug reader i’m so serious

strangers by nature | iv

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 5.7K Warnings: a little angst, mental health care, hints of child abduction, mentions of death, mentions of infidelity

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a/n: being sick means more time to bust out content

You paced around your bedroom, restless energy driving each step as the anticipation of your upcoming therapy session settled over you. The faint glow of the laptop screen illuminated the room, the app open and waiting. The timer ticked down with an almost menacing rhythm as you adjusted the laptop, twisting it slightly left, then right, before stepping back to assess the angle.

Tired eyes stared back at you, dulled by sleepless nights, and the lines on your face seemed deeper, etched by the weight of too many burdens. No amount of hydrating could fix this.

The laptop chimed, signaling the start of the session. With a heavy sigh, you clicked "Join." The screen flickered, and soon the familiar face of your therapist, Jungah, came into view. 

“Y/N! How are you?” 

You hesitated, your eyes darting to the floor for a moment. “I’m...well, a lot has happened since our last session.”

Jungah nodded gently, her expression softening as she leaned in, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Tell me more,” she encouraged.

“Mingi was in an accident,” you said, the words feeling heavier as they left your mouth. “He’s…in a coma right now.”

“Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry to hear that. I can’t imagine what you’re going through right now! How are you holding up?”

You nodded, the lump in your throat making it hard to respond. “I’m pretty overwhelmed. I got a dog though, which is great. But everything about the situation just feels so…complicated,” you admitted, your voice dropping slightly. 

“Part of me feels like I should be…devastated. And I am, in a way. I think just because we’ve always had such a difficult relationship.”

“It’s okay to feel all of those things. There’s no ‘right’ way to process something like this. What’s been the hardest part for you?”

You hesitated, your fingers tracing patterns on the edge of your desk as your thoughts churned.

“Probably the fact that it reminds me of when Hongjoong was in the hospital. During his battle with cancer.”

“Right, and we talked about that in our first session. What kind of feelings does this bring up for you?”

You swallowed hard, the words clawing their way out of you. 

“Guilt. I can’t believe I was in class when it happened,” you began, your voice already trembling. Your voice cracked, and you gripped the edge of the desk tightly. Your breath hitched, and you shook your head as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. 

“I should have been there,” you said, the words spilling out in a rush, your voice rising with emotion. “I should’ve skipped class, stayed by his side, done something. I thought I had more time, and then—then I didn’t.”

A single tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. 

“He died alone. Alone. And I wasn’t there to tell him I loved him one last time, to hold his hand, to let him know he wasn’t alone.”

You pressed your palm against your chest, as if trying to steady the ache threatening to consume you.

“And now, with Mingi,” you continued, your words tumbling out in a rush. “We’ve never been close. But the thought of leaving him alone, of him waking up, o-or dying and not having anyone there, makes it feel like it’s happening all over again.”

Your voice broke completely, and a sob tore from your throat. You buried your face in your hands, fingers clutching at your temples as though trying to contain the flood of emotions pouring out. 

Mingi’s head shot up, his ears twitching as the sound of your broken sobs filled the room. Panic flashed in his eyes, and he scrambled to his feet, the urgency of your pain pulling him forward. He stumbled slightly, his small paws skidding on the floor in his haste, but he didn’t stop until he was in your lap.

With all the force his tiny body could muster, he pressed against you, nudging your hands, pawing at your chest—anything to pull you back from the edge. His movements were frantic, almost desperate, as if he could piece you back together with his touch.

No, no, no, don't cry.

“Why does this keep happening to me?” you choked out. You curled in on yourself, arms wrapping around your middle as if to contain the grief threatening to consume you whole. 

Mingi had never seen you like this. The weight of it crushed him—heavier than any argument you’d ever had, sharper than the harshest words exchanged in anger. 

He’d known about Hongjoong’s death in a detached, matter-of-fact way—something that had happened before your lives became entangled. But until now, it hadn’t occurred to him how deeply that loss had scarred you, how it marred your heart.

You weren’t just the person he’d been forced to marry, the one he’d spent so much energy resenting and clashing with. You were a whole person—someone who had loved, lost, and carried burdens he hadn’t even noticed.

“Y/N,” Jungah said softly, “take a deep breath with me. Just one. In through your nose...and out through your mouth.”

You tried to follow her lead, managing a shaky inhale, then exhaling in a stuttering gasp, fresh tears spilling down as you followed the motions.

“It’s not your fault,” Jungah said. “None of this is your fault—not Hongjoong’s passing, and not Mingi’s accident. You loved Hongjoong, and you’re doing everything you can for Mingi now. That’s what matters.”

“That’s the problem,” you said, your voice trembling. “I shouldn’t be the only one. His parents—” Your words caught, a wave of anger rising in your throat, hot and bitter, cutting you off mid-sentence.

“They wouldn’t even take turns staying with him at the hospital! I asked. But his mom brushed me off like it was nothing, like their son lying there broken didn’t matter.”

Jungah’s face softened with understanding, but you could see the anger flicker in her eyes. “That’s not on you, either. They’re the ones failing him, not you.”

“I just…I just can’t stand the thought of him being alone. Even after everything he’s done, after all the hurt—he doesn’t deserve that. No one does.”

Mingi’s heart clenched—not with guilt, but with a profound, almost overwhelming sense of gratitude. You were angry, hurt, and exhausted, yet you still stood up for him. You still wanted to be there for him, even after all the ways he’d hurt you, you stayed.

It struck him then–he had spent so much time fighting against your world, your pain, but had never truly tried to understand it.

“You’re right to be angry. They should be there for him, but they’re not, and that’s their shame to bear. You, on the other hand, have gone above and beyond. You’ve stayed. You’ve cared. And that says so much more about who you are.”

“I’m so tired,” you admitted. "I don’t even know if I’m doing this because I care or because I’m afraid of looking like a terrible person. I just want to do the right thing, but I don’t know what that is anymore.”

“Y/N,” she said gently, “it sounds like you’re carrying a lot and putting everyone else’s needs before your own. You know, it’s okay to prioritize yourself.”

“I know, I know.” You ran a shaky hand through your hair, “I don’t know what that looks like for me right now. I think I just care too much about people who’d never do the same for me. I feel…pathetic, honestly.” 

“I hear you,” Jungah said softly. “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s natural to question where you stand, especially when you give so much of yourself to others and don’t always get it back.”

Your gaze drifted down to Maro, his soft brown eyes watching you intently. As if sensing your turmoil, he nudged his head against your hand. You offered him a weak smile, gently scratching behind his ears. 

“But I need you to hear this, Y/N. You’re showing compassion, and there’s incredible strength in that. You’re standing up for someone who needs your care and your support, someone who may not even realize how much they need you right now.”

“Taking care of yourself isn’t a betrayal of those qualities, it’s a part of them. You deserve the same care you give to everyone else. You’re worthy of that, Y/N. You need to remember that.”

Jungah smiled softly as your therapy session came to a close. “We’ll keep working through this, step by step. For now, just think about what self-care might look like for you. You’ve been through so much, Y/N. Give yourself the grace you so readily give to others.”

“Thank you,” you sniffled, wiping at your eyes. 

With a shaky exhale, you gave her a small, grateful wave before reaching out to end the call. The screen went dark, and the silence of the room rushed in to fill the space where her voice had been.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring at the blank screen of your laptop. The tears welled up again, but this time they came slower, quieter, as if you were finally too tired to hold them back. You let out a long, trembling sigh before looking down at Maro, who was watching you intensely. 

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as he nestled into your chest. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his fur, your voice barely audible. 

You didn’t even know exactly what you were apologizing for—maybe for being angry, for feeling conflicted, for not having all the answers. But Mingi didn’t flinch or pull away. Instead, he nuzzled closer, his way of silently telling you he understood, that he saw the pain you were carrying.

He could feel it all—the storm raging inside you. The guilt, the exhaustion, the anger. He was someone who had hurt you, who had failed you in ways he couldn’t begin to measure. Yet here you were, holding him as if he was still worth fighting for.

You were fighting—for him, for yourself, for the hope that things could be different. And though he didn’t know if he deserved it, Mingi silently willed you to keep going. Somehow, in the stillness, he realized something…you were his reason to fight, too.

⋆

The café was quiet when you arrived, the gentle hum of conversations and the clinking of silverware blending into a soft, comforting din. Near the window, Mrs. Kim sat in the warm glow of sunlight, quietly leafing through a stack of sheet music while humming along to the notes.

“Y/N!” she greeted, her face lighting up as she caught sight of you. Rising from her seat, she pulled you into a gentle hug, her familiar warmth easing the lingering tension in your shoulders. Her gaze dropped, and her expression softened when she noticed the small figure nestled at your feet.

“And who is this?” The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile.

“This is Maro,” you replied, scooping him up into your arms. His ears perked up at the sound of his name, his curious eyes darting toward Mrs. Kim. 

“I hope it’s okay that I brought him along.”

Mrs. Kim chuckled, her hand already reaching out toward him. “Of course it’s okay,” she said warmly, her fingers brushing against his soft fur as she gently scratched behind his ears. Maro leaned into her touch, his fluffy tail wagging slightly.

“It’s nice to have some extra company.”

You sat down, and Maro settled under the table as the server came by to take your order. Hongjoong’s mother watched you for a moment, her gaze warm but thoughtful, as if she was piecing something together. 

“You seem…tired,” she noted softly. 

You let out a dry chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “When you’re married to the most narcissistic family on the planet, it kind of comes with the territory,” you replied with a wry smile, the humor in your words unable to mask the weariness behind them.

Mingi let out a quiet huff, his ears flicking back as he gave you a sidelong glance from his position under the table. His frown was subtle but noticeable, a clear sign that he didn’t entirely agree with your assessment of his family—even if he couldn’t voice his objections.

“Marriage can be… complicated,” she said gently, lifting her mug to her lips, “but it’s in those challenges that we often discover who we really are.”

Mrs. Kim folded her hands over the sheet music, her gaze warm yet thoughtful. “It’s also about finding ways to grow together. It’s often the small, quiet decisions to stay and try that matter most, even when it feels impossible.”

She paused before adding, “I know the Songs can be…intense. But people like that are mirrors. They reflect parts of yourself—your strengths, weaknesses, and fears. Facing those reflections isn’t easy, but it can lead to unexpected growth.”

“I just wish it didn’t feel like a constant fight. Like I’m always proving something—to them, to myself, to Mingi.”

“Proving yourself is exhausting. But maybe, without realizing it, you’re showing them how to fight for something worth keeping.” Mrs. Kim’s voice was gentle, her words lingering in the air before she added, almost as an afterthought, “Oh, before I forget…”

She slid the stack of sheet music into your hands, your breath caught as you scanned the pages, immediately recognizing Hongjoong’s handwriting—the chaotic, unruly script that mirrored the way his mind danced through ideas, always just a little ahead of itself.

“Jazz?” you murmured, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips.

“Just a few of his hundreds of compositions he’d written over the years,” she explained, her own smile touched with sadness. “I thought…you might want to have them.”

You ran your fingers lightly over the pages, the notes and markings so distinctly him—bold, inventive, and just a touch wild. The ache in your chest swelled, but it was softened by the warmth of the memory.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “This means a lot.”

“He always wanted his music to be shared, to bring people joy. I think he’d be happy knowing you have these.”

Under the table, Mingi pawed at Mrs. Kim’s leg. It was a small, almost instinctive gesture, as if even in his canine form, he wanted to ease the weight of her sadness. Mrs. Kim’s gaze softened as she glanced down at him.

Mingi studied her closely, sensing the deep sadness she carried beneath her calm demeanor. It was an enduring grief for her son, one that seemed to seep into every word she spoke and every careful action she took. Yet, she never let it consume her. Instead, she channeled it into wisdom, offering others a sense of peace and understanding.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his own mother would ever be capable of finding those same emotions.

“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you?” she murmured, her voice low, almost as though she were speaking to herself.

“Thank you for keeping me company, dear.”

Mingi tilted his head, his small tail wagging slightly as he considered her words. People often avoided what they didn’t understand or couldn’t fix. And yet, here he was, a tiny puppy, silently promising her he wouldn’t be one of those people—at least, not today.

“Excuse me? Have you seen my daughter?” 

The frantic question cut through the murmur of the busy street. Mrs. Kim and Mingi turned in unison, her hand still resting on the leash as her gaze landed on the source of the voice. You looked up from adjusting your coat just in time to catch the woman’s anxious expression as she stopped abruptly, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, “My daughter, Yena, she’s...she’s gone! She was right beside me just a moment ago, and now I can’t find her. She’s five, wearing a pink jacket and yellow rain boots?”

Mrs. Kim’s eyes softened immediately, her expression one of concern. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. We haven’t seen her, but we’ll keep an eye out for her.” She turned to you for confirmation, and you nodded, already scanning the area.    

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, though her gaze was already shifting, searching the busy street.

“I turned around for a second and the next thing I knew, she’s gone!”

“No, don’t blame yourself,” Mrs. Kim said gently, her voice steady and soothing. “Children are naturally curious. Let’s focus on finding her now. Have you called the authorities?”

The woman nodded quickly, her hands trembling as she fumbled to show a picture of her daughter on her phone.

“Yes. This is her,” she said, holding her phone out for you to see.

Pictured was a bright-eyed little girl, with round cheeks, grinning widely as she clutched a stuffed rabbit nearly as big as she was. 

“Where did you last see her?” you asked, already forming a mental map of the area. 

“Just over there,” the woman said, her hand shaking as she pointed toward the park entrance.

“We were sitting by the benches under the oak tree, and I turned to grab her water bottle from my bag…” Her voice wavered, and she paused, her breaths growing shallow and erratic as the memory clearly consumed her.

“It’s okay,” you interjected gently, your tone steady and reassuring. You leaned in slightly, meeting her panicked gaze. 

“You’ve done the right thing by calling for help. We’ll keep an eye out for her and report anything we find to the authorities.”

The woman nodded shakily, clutching her phone as if it were a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her fear.

You gave her a reassuring smile, though the heaviness in your chest lingered. 

With a quick nod, you and Mrs. Kim turned to make your way toward the park, leaving Yena’s mother behind to continue her frantic search.

“How unfortunate,” Mrs. Kim sighed after a moment, breaking the silence. She shook her head, her expression clouded with sympathy. 

“I can’t imagine what that woman is going through. Losing sight of your child, even for a second...it’s a nightmare no parent should ever have to endure.”

Mingi gave a small huff, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air. His steps quickened slightly, and you had to tighten your grip on the leash to keep him from pulling too far ahead.

She’s around here somewhere, his instincts told him as he sniffed the air again. Something about the situation—the mother’s panic and the child’s vulnerability, tugged at a deep place in his heart. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know Yena, she was small, defenseless, and alone. That was enough for Mingi to feel protective.

He remembered the times he’d been alone, in places where no one called his name or came looking for him. But Yena wouldn’t feel that loneliness, not if Mingi could help it. She needed someone, and he was determined to be that someone.

Whatever loneliness he’d known in his own life, he wouldn’t let a lost little girl feel it. Not while he could do something about it.

Mingi sniffed the air again, his movements growing more urgent. His ears twitched, his muscles tensed, and his posture shifted, radiating a focused energy that caught your attention. You noticed his change immediately, the way he stopped sniffing idly and started searching with intent.

“Maro?” Your grip on the leash tightened instinctively as he stepped forward, his nose brushing the ground before lifting to sniff the air again.

Mingi hesitated for a moment, his body rigid, as though confirming something only he could sense. Then, without warning, he surged forward, the leash pulling taut in your hands.

“Maro, wait!” you called, trying to hold him back, but his determination overpowered your grip. With a quick twist of his body, Mingi wriggled free of his harness. The loop fell to the ground with a soft thud, and in a flash, he was off.

“No!” you shouted, panic rising in your chest. You took off after him, your heart pounding as his barking grew louder, guiding you toward his destination.

He darted through the park, weaving between trees and darting past startled spectators, as though he were following a trail only he could detect. You struggled to keep up, adrenaline driving your steps as you sprinted after him.

"Go away!" Yena cried, her voice breaking as she snatched her arm away from the strange woman. Her wide, tear-filled eyes darted around the clearing, searching for an escape.

"I'm not a stranger," the woman said, her tone syrupy but strained, a smile tugging uncomfortably at the corners of her lips.

"I’m your mommy’s friend."

"My mommy said never to go with strangers!”

The woman crouched slightly, her smile tight and unnatural as her patience began to wear thin.

“I told you, I’m not a stranger,” she said, her voice growing sharper. Her eyes glinted with something cold as she glanced around the clearing. 

“You’ll be in trouble if you don’t listen to me, little girl. Do you want that?”

Before the woman could reach for her again, furious barking erupted from the trees. Mingi charged into the clearing, positioning himself between the girl and the woman, his growls low and menacing.

“Shoo!” she snapped, waving her hand at him as though he were a mere nuisance. “Get out of here, you little pest!”

But Mingi didn’t flinch. His growls deepened, his stance lowering as if ready to lunge if she dared to come closer. His determination seemed to fill the air, daring her to make a move.

“A puppy!” Yena gasped, her tears momentarily forgotten as she crouched slightly behind him.

“Maro!” you called, your voice sharp. He turned briefly, his tail wagging slightly at the sound of your voice, but he quickly refocused on the woman, his growls resuming.

The woman’s gaze darted between you and the dog, her jaw tightening. For a fleeting moment, her eyes locked with yours, and recognition flashed in her expression—a flicker of something dark and calculated. Her lips curled into a sneer before she turned and bolted, disappearing into the trees with a speed that left you stunned.

Mingi barked after her once, but then turned his attention back to Yena. Rising onto his hind legs, he nudged her gently as if urging her to sit. Once she did, he hopped into her lap without hesitation, his warm, furry body pressing against hers like a shield.

Yena gasped softly at the contact, her small hands instinctively clutching at his soft fur. She buried her fingers into his coat, the warmth and comfort he provided allowing her sobs to finally break free.

“Oh my god, Yena!” you gasped, dropping to your knees beside her. Your hands hovered for a moment, unsure whether to touch her or give her space. “Are you okay?”

Yena peeked up at you, her tear-streaked face still pressed against Mingi’s side.

“The bad lady’s gone?” she whispered, her voice fragile.

“She’s gone,” you assured her. You reached out, brushing a strand of her disheveled hair away from her face.

“Maro made sure of it. He scared her away.”

“He’s a good puppy,” she murmured shakily, her voice barely above a whisper. Her fingers stroked his back, and though her movements were timid, they carried a quiet gratitude.

Your hands fumbled for your phone, the adrenaline making your fingers clumsy. You swiped at the screen, barely managing to bring up Mrs. Kim’s number. Pressing the call button, you held the phone to your ear, your eyes scanning the tree line as if to ensure the woman wouldn’t reappear.

The phone rang once, then twice, before Mrs. Kim’s voice came through, steady but laced with worry.

“Did you find her?” she asked, her words hurried.

“Yes,” you said quickly, glancing down at Yena, who was still clutching Maro. “She’s here. She’s safe, but…” You hesitated, swallowing hard before continuing.

“Call the cops. I’ll stay here with her until they arrive.”

⋆

The faint sound of hurried footsteps reached your ears, and when you glanced toward the path, you saw Mrs. Kim, Yena’s mother, and two officers running toward you. 

“Yena!” she called, her voice cracking as she rushed forward.

“Mommy!” Yena cried, scrambling to her feet, still clutching Mingi. She stumbled toward her mother, who dropped to her knees and wrapped her arms around her daughter tightly. Yena buried her face in her mother’s shoulder, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “Thank you so much. I don’t know what I would have done if—” Her voice broke, and she hugged Yena even tighter.

“I don’t know how I can ever repay you!” she continued.

You shook your head gently, offering her a warm, reassuring smile. “There’s no need,” you said, your voice calm but earnest. “I’m just glad I was here to help. That’s all that matters.”

Mingi barked softly, as if echoing your sentiments. His tail wagged as he sat back at your feet, looking every bit the proud protector he was. Yena pulled back slightly from her mother’s embrace, wiping at her eyes with one hand while the other reached down to pet Mingi.

“The puppy saved me,” she said softly, her voice still shaky but filled with awe. “He scared the bad lady away.”

You crouched down to Mingi’s level, scratching behind his ears. “He’s the real hero here,” you said, glancing up at Mrs. Kim with a small smile.

“He knew something was wrong before I did.”

Mingi let out a happy huff, rolling onto his back to expose his belly, practically inviting Yena to join in the celebration. The little girl giggled through her tears, her small hands eagerly scratching his side.

Yena’s mother knelt beside her, her trembling hand reaching out hesitantly. Her fingers brushed over Mingi’s soft fur, and her lips quivered with emotion. 

“Thank you,” she whispered again, her voice cracking as she looked back at Yena. “Thank you both.”

“Ms…?” one of the officers interrupted gently, his notebook in hand.

“Choi,” you said, standing to face him. “Um, I’m Choi Y/N.”

“Do you mind providing a witness statement?”

“Of course,” you replied, taking a steadying breath. “I was walking my dog when I saw a woman with Yena,” you began.

“The woman claimed she was a friend of the mother, but something about her seemed…off. She got increasingly aggressive when Yena didn’t cooperate.”

The officer nodded, scribbling rapidly in his notepad. “Can you describe the woman?”

“She looked like she was her forties,” you said, replaying the scene in your mind. “Dark hair, pulled back tightly. She was wearing a black jacket and purple pants and seemed disheveled. When I caught up to Maro, she froze like a deer in the headlights and bolted into the trees.”

“Did you see which direction she ran?”

You nodded, pointing toward the dense tree line a few yards away. “That way. She moved fast, like she knew exactly where she was going.”

The officer glanced in the direction you indicated, then back at his notes with a heavy sigh. 

“We’ll search the area and alert nearby units to be on the lookout for someone matching her description. In the meantime, thank you for stepping in. Your dog’s instincts likely saved this little girl.”

As the officers wrapped up their investigation, you crouched down one last time to Yena’s level. Her wide eyes were still a little red from crying, but there was a sparkle of hope in them now. 

“You were so brave today. And you know what? Maro thinks you’re a hero, too.”

Yena’s lips curled into a shy smile as she reached out to pet his head. He leaned into her touch, his tail wagging lazily.

“Can I play with him again sometime?” 

“Anytime,” you promised. “You just let your mom know, and we’ll make it happen.”

With a final wave, you gave Mrs. Kim a quick hug, murmuring your thanks before sheepishly retrieving the sheet music you had almost forgotten. Clutching it tightly, you turned to leave, Mingi falling into step beside you.

The walk home was quieter now, the crisp night air carrying the faint rustle of leaves. Mingi trotted happily at your side, his leash loose, as if he understood the weight of the moment but chose not to linger on it. Instead, his steady presence offered you a quiet comfort, grounding you in the stillness of the night.

When you reached the penthouse, you slipped off your shoes, hung up Mingi’s leash, and set the sheet music on the music shelf. 

“Well, today was something else,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck as you flopped onto the couch.

Before you could settle in, Mingi hopped up beside you, his fluffy tail wagging in a lazy rhythm. Without hesitation, he settled into your lap as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

You chuckled softly, your fingers finding their way behind his ears, scratching gently in a spot you knew he loved.

“We make a pretty great team, huh?”

You leaned back into the cushions, your hand slipping from behind his ears to run through the soft fur along his back. Each stroke seemed to soothe not just him, but you as well. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?” you murmured after a moment, your voice quieter now. 

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

Mingi shifted slightly, resting his head against your chest as his eyes fluttered shut, lulled by the rhythm of your heartbeat. Accepting this new form hadn’t been easy; it challenged everything he thought he knew about himself. 

But moments like this, with your hand threading gently through his fur and your voice brimming with affection, chipped away at his doubts. The walls he had so carefully constructed around his heart crumbled, leaving him exposed to a truth he could no longer deny: the feelings growing within him, his feelings for you.

Mingi surrendered to the quiet realization that he no longer wanted to run from you or from the parts of himself he couldn’t face. You had shown him something he thought he’d lost; a capacity for care, compassion, and even love. 

And he wanted to show you that could become something more. 

But his peace was short-lived as your phone blared to life, interrupting his nap. Jiwoo’s name lit up the screen, and with a tired sigh, you swiped to answer, already bracing yourself for her shenanigans. 

That annoying woman!

“Y/N!” Jiwoo’s voice was bright and full of excitement. “I’ve found it. The place. It’s in Prague, and it’s everything you’ve been looking for—charming, historic, and in a perfect location!”

“Prague is a little far, don’t you think?”

“Exactly!” Jiwoo exclaimed, as if you’d just proved her point. “Far enough to get away from all these assholes!”

You chuckled softly, your fingers absentmindedly carding through Maro’s fur. He stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh as he snuggled deeper against your chest. Jiwoo’s energy was infectious, even when you weren’t entirely on board with her ideas.

“Speaking of assholes,” she said, her tone dropping, “have you heard about Ahri?”

Your stomach dropped at the mention of her name. “What about her?” 

“So,” she started, drawing out the word, “Sara saw her the other night at The Z. And she wasn’t alone. She was looking way too cozy with that model guy. What’s his name? Mingyu or something. It’s kind of creepy that he and Mingi have similar sounding names.”

Mingi’s relationship with Ahri had always been a sore spot, a constant reminder that you had no place in his life. But hearing this made you feel something you couldn’t quite place—vindicated? Sad? Angry? Maybe all three.

“And get this—when Sara asked her about Mingi, she brushed it off. Like she wasn’t walking around a few weeks ago looking pretty banged up herself. I mean, can you believe it? While he’s in a coma?”

“Their relationship doesn’t concern me,” you replied, but your words felt hollow. 

“Not your business?” Jiwoo scoffed. “It’s disgusting, Y/N. I know you and Mingi have a complicated relationship–I get it. but he doesn’t deserve that. No one does. She’s out here living her best life while he’s fighting for his.”

Her outrage echoed your own feelings, but instead of comfort, it only heightened the discomfort twisting in your chest. Each mention of Ahri reminded you that this moment, where you were pouring your heart into caring for him, staying by his side when no one else would, was nothing more than a spell cast by some higher being.

Once the spell was broken, you'd return to your separate lives despite being bound to one another.

“Anyway,” Jiwoo said, sensing your silence, “that’s just more reason to take the leap. Leave all this drama behind and protect your peace. Start over. You might actually find love too!”

You let out a dry laugh, though it wasn’t the least bit genuine. “Yeah, right. Love.”

The words tasted bitter on your tongue, and the thought of it, of someone loving you in the way you needed, in the way you’d always hoped felt almost impossible.

“I mean, if Czech men aren’t your thing, I know Park Seong—”

“My food’s here, bye!” you blurted out abruptly, cutting her off before she could finish her sentence. 

You rested your head back against the couch and closed your eyes for a moment, shifting Maro against you, his small body fitting so easily into the curve of your side. 

Who needs husbands when you have a dog? You couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Maro, with his unwavering loyalty and comforting little form, was all you needed right now. He didn’t ask anything of you—just your love and care in return. A love that came without expectations, without demands for answers or explanations.

With him, you could simply be.

Outside the towering penthouse, a figure lingered in the shadows, her frail frame swallowed by a dark jacket. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides, knuckles stark white, and her shoulders trembled with each shallow, uneven breath. Then, without a sound, she slipped into the darkness, leaving no trace behind.

But the chill that lingered in the air suggested she wouldn’t be gone for long.

<< iii | v >>

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

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

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

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

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

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

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

@kyomiingi

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘸𝘰! 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 Bed Time ! - @vhyunjinverse matz x pregnant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Handcuffed - @vampzity police!matz x criminal!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Lovely Pet - @littlefireball vampire!matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 The Little Things - @srslyscary ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ways To Say : I Love You - @imagine-a-life-like-this ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 8:30pm - @dancinglikebutterflywings idol!hongjoong x maddox's sister!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Attention Please - @starminzoo idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Can You Hold Me? - @orshii tennis player!hongjoong x therapist!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Million Dollar Man - @holybibly rich!older!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Swapped - @daisykihannie bf!hongjoong x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Animal Crossing vs Stardew Valley - @solaris-amethyst best friend!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Deserve You - @captain-joongz brother-in-law!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 How We Live In Tokyo - @yeoslattes street racer!matz!seonghwa x street racer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Look Like a Freak - @freyaphoria nerd!perv!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Missing Piece - @k-hotchoisan bf!seonghwa x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 As Long As With You - @xuchiya non-idol!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Body Language - @k-hotchoisan brother's best friend!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Carnival - @pocketjoong prince!yunho x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Classroom Shenanigans - @solaris-amethyst teacher!husband!yunho x teacher!wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Yunho + Subtle Ways He Shows He Loves You - @stayteezdreams bf!yunho x gn!reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 3:33pm ♡ - @ateezscupid non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Cosmos - @pirateprincessblog non-idol!space traveler!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Flex - @xuchiya non-idol!yeosang x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Not Like The Previous Ones - @03jyh23 bf!yeosang x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Sweat and Seduction - @xomakara gym rat!yeosang x yoga teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Be Your Solace - @makeitmingi university student!bf!san x university student!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Cheerleaders And Stereotypes - @itsbeeble football player!san x cheerleader!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Night Like These - @03jyh23 idol!san x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Second Times - @velvetydream dad!san x wife!pregnant!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Treat You Better - @starskq non-idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Early Morning Live - @/bro-atz idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 MingiWonka - @shinestarhwaa wonka!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Save A Horse, Ride Your Best Friend - @seonghwaddict best friend!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Show & Tell [Part One | Part Two] - @jensthwa best friend!mingi x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Still Your Biggest Fan - @byuntrash101 idol!mingi x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 I Still Hate You - @starskq non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Midnight Kisses - @mingigoo best friend!wooyoung x single parent!reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Silver Dive - @hwallazia bf!wooyoung x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Sly Fox, Dumb Bunny - @lividstar vigilante!wooyoung x secret agent!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Super Attractive - @wbtsan idol!bf!wooyoung x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Hear A Siren’s Call - @the-midnight-blooms siren!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Home - @desirehorizon bf!jongho x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Not As Innocent - @ja3hwa bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Oh Shit, Are We In Love - @mingigoo basketball player!jongho x cheerleader!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Where Did You Go? - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!jongho x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

ARE YOU READY TO FUCKING DIE, MIKE? IT’S REVENGE TIME BABY! HAHAHAHA I’VE BEEN WAITIN' FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP!

Popular, Boy

☆11: The first truth.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 7,5k

Summary: Apologies are given, but not in the way they should be. Old wounds linger, new alliances form, and the first steps towards something bigger are set in motion.

But as the tension rise, one thing becomes clear... this game is only just beginning.

Warnings: Cursing, power dynamics, manipulation, slight physical violence.

Series masterlist. Join the Taglist

☆10 ☆12: The first warning. Coming soon.

The staff stands in a rigid line in the grand hall of the Clarke mansion, their hands clasped in front of them, their gazes lowered but attentive.

The tension in the air is palpable, thick and unspoken. The echoes of last night’s violence still linger in the minds of every person standing there.

Dann’s mother shifts uncomfortably beside her daughter, her fingers tightening around the hem of her apron.

Dann, for once, isn’t fidgeting, isn’t sneaking glances at her phone or zoning out. She’s watching, truly watching, in a way she never has before.

Mike stands before them, dressed sharply as ever, exuding the effortless charm and authority that has always made people trust him despite the cruelty that lurks beneath.

His parents flank him—his father’s expression serious, his mother’s carefully curated into something that resembles concern.

“First of all,” Mike begins, his voice smooth, practiced, “I want to personally apologize for what you all witnessed days ago.” He pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd as if searching for sincerity within himself.

“My behavior was… unacceptable. I let my emotions get the best of me, and I regret that it happened in front of all of you.”

His mother nods approvingly beside him. His father remains impassive.

“It was a private family matter,” He continues, “And I assure you, YN and I have already spoken. She has forgiven me, and we are moving forward as a family.”

Dann’s stomach twists.

Liar. He hasn’t spoken to you. No one has.

“She understands, as I hope you all do, that moments of anger don’t define us,” Mike adds, his lips pressing into something that resembles a remorseful smile. “I’m not proud of how I acted, but I promise it will never happen again.”

There’s silence. Heavy. Expectant.

The staff doesn’t react, but they don’t need to—this isn’t about them believing Mike. This is about them accepting what they are being told to believe.

His father steps forward now, clearing his throat “We deeply appreciate all the work you do for this household. Your loyalty does not go unnoticed, and we want to express our gratitude for your discretion regarding the incident.”

A butler steps in, carrying a sleek tray, and within seconds, small black boxes are placed into the hands of each staff member.

Dann stares at the one in her mother’s hands.

It’s sickening. The Clarke family’s cycle of silence and bribery in its purest form.

Her mother hesitates, looking around nervously before murmuring, “Sir, this isn’t necessary…”

Your mother offers a practiced smile “Of course it is. You all work so hard, and we insist.”

Dann’s mother swallows, clutching the box tightly. Around them, the other staff members murmur quiet thanks, some with forced smiles, others merely nodding, understanding there is no choice in this.

Dann glances up at Mike, who catches her staring. He smirks just slightly, eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something knowing.

And for the first time, the weight of what she’s been a part of settles like a stone in her stomach. She lowers her gaze before anyone sees the regret forming there.

Because it’s too late for regrets now.

✮ ⋆

You’re quieter than usual, but it isn’t something peaceful. It’s the kind of silence that lingers after something terrible has happened, the kind that no one dares to break.

You sit on your soft bed, your body aching, the faint pressure of Mike’s hands still lingering on your throat. The dim lighting casts long shadows, and the scent of expensive perfume does little to soothe the heaviness in the air.

Your parents stand before you, poised as ever, their expressions carefully composed—concern etched into their faces just enough to seem believable, but not enough to be real.

Your father speaks first, his voice low and measured “Darling, what happened… was unfortunate.”

Unfortunate.

That’s the word they use when something inconvenient happens. When an investment fails, when a business deal doesn’t go through, when their son nearly strangles their daughter in front of an entire household.

Your mother sighs, sitting beside you, reaching out to grab your hand “You know how Mike gets. He has always struggled with controlling his emotions.”

Your lips curl bitterly “So that makes it okay?”

Your father narrows his eyes slightly, but his tone remains calm “No one is saying that. But you must understand, people like us don’t air our dirty laundry for the world to see. This is a family matter, and it must remain that way.”

You scoff, shifting in your bed despite the pain that flares up in your ribs “So you want me to pretend it didn’t happen? To protect him?”

“We are protecting you, sweetie.”

You let out a short, humorless laugh “Right. Because you care so much.”

Your mother sighs again, as if you are the one being difficult “Sweetheart, the world is cruel. You know that. Do you really want people gossiping about this? Do you want to ruin Mike’s future over a misunderstanding?”

Your fingers tighten around the fabric of the blankets “Misunderstanding?” Your voice is sharp, disbelief laced in every syllable. “He punched me. He choked me. In front of everyone. What exactly was misunderstood?”

Your father’s expression darkens, the mask of concern slipping just a fraction.

“Lower your voice.”

You bite your tongue, swallowing down the fury bubbling inside you. Your mother smooths your hair back, her tone soothing yet distant.

“Sweetie, we know you’re upset. But we also know that you’re strong. This family needs you to be composed, to move forward. And Mike… he regrets his actions.”

Your body goes rigid at the blatant lie. Mike never regrets anything.

Your father clears his throat, as if the conversation is now settled “We thought you might like this.”

A sleek black box is placed in your lap, the brand embossed in gold. Expensive. Extravagant.

Meaningless.

You don't even need to open it to know what it is.

Another gift.

Another bandage for wounds they refuse to acknowledge. you lift your gaze, meeting their expectant eyes. They wait for gratitude, for acceptance.

So you do. You smile, it’s slow, and void of warmth.

“Thank you,” You say, voice as smooth as silk, fingers brushing over the box as if you actually care.

They relax, satisfied. And in that moment, you make a silent vow.

You won’t forget. You won’t forgive.

And you sure as hell won’t let this go.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

During the week, Wooyoung hadn’t a real plan when he walked into the café, just the vague idea of seeing if the girl from the picture was really there.

The bell jingles softly as he steps inside, and he takes a casual glance around, pretending to look at the menu.

And then he sees them.

Little Hongjoong and that girl.

Hongjoong is sitting at one of the corner tables, wearing a simple work apron, speaking to the girl from the photo. She laughs at something he says before walking away to take another order.

Wooyoung narrows his eyes and strides over to Hongjoong’s table, plopping into the chair across from him.

“The fuck are you doing here?” Woo asks bluntly.

Hongjoong startled, then sighs when he realizes who it is “Woo? What are you—”

“No, no, don’t ‘Woo’ me,” He cuts him off, crossing his arms “Why are you here? And why the fuck is there a picture of you hugging that girl going around?”

Hongjoong rubs the back of his neck, looking exhausted “I work here, and what do you mean a picture of me is going around?”

Wooyoung blinks “...Excuse me?”

“I work here,” He repeats, voice quieter “I didn’t want anyone to know.”

Woo stares at him, then lets out a short, disbelieving laugh “Are you kidding me? You’ve been acting weird as hell, blowing YN off, and it turns out you’ve just been—what? Making lattes?”

Hongjoong exhales “My dad lost his job. I needed to help out. I didn’t tell YN because… I didn’t want her to think less of me.”

Wooyoung runs a hand down his face “Little Hongjoong…. Seriously?”

He avoids his gaze.

Shaking his head, Wooyoung pulls out his phone “Yeah, well, I’m telling her.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widens “Wooyoung, don’t—”

“Too late.” Wooyoung hits send a quick message to you, then smirks “She deserves to know the truth. And you need to stop being a dumbass.”

He groans, slumping in his seat “I hate you.”

Wooyoung just grins “You will love me after this, Joong.”

✮ ⋆

The soft glow of the screen illuminates your face as you lay in bed, your thumb hovering over the keyboard.

It has been a long, exhausting week—one filled with endless frustration, whispered conspiracies between Mindy and Wooyoung, and the dull ache of bruises that still hadn’t fully faded.

And then there, there is the message you were waiting for.

Brat Woo: Babydoll.

Brat Woo: False alarm, little Hongjoong is clean, and that slut works in that cafe, Hongjoong does too.

Bratty Woo: You should talk to him.

You have been fuming, pacing, and second-guessing yourself over and over.

But now, with Woo’s confirmation that the girl in the picture is nothing more than a coworker and that Hongjoong has been working in secret, your anger has simmered down to something else—something more dangerous.

Doubt.

Had you misjudged him? Had you let your paranoia and pain push you into believing the worst?

But then again, why had he kept all of this from you? Why hadn’t he shown up to your date? Why was he so distant after everything you had been through?

Taking a deep breath, you type Hongjoong a quick message.

YN♡: We need to talk.

The message is sent instantly, and you don't have to wait long for Hongjoong to arrive at your home.

✮ ⋆

Hongjoong stands at the front gates of your house, his heart hammering in his chest. The towering mansion, which once felt like an unattainable dream, now looms over him with an unfamiliar, suffocating presence.

The moment the gates open, he strides inside, his breath heavy with anticipation.

A maid opens the door, offering him a polite smile "Welcome, Miss YN is waiting for you in her room."

He barely nods before hurrying past her, his pulse quickening with every step. It’s been a week—a week without seeing you, without hearing your voice.

A week of torment, uncertainty, and the gnawing ache of missing you.

When he reaches your door, he hesitates for just a second before knocking "YN… it’s me, Hongjoong."

A beat of silence. Then, a quiet but firm, “Come in.”

He pushes the door open, and there you are.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, arms crossed, your gaze unreadable. But his eyes immediately drop to the bruises—faint marks on your throat, a cut on your lower lip, a fading bruise on your cheek.

His stomach twists.

"What happened to you, pretty?"

His voice is sharp with concern as he steps forward, instinctively reaching for you, but you tilt your chin up defiantly, stopping him in his tracks.

"Explain yourself first," You say coolly, eyes locking onto his "Depending on your answers, I’ll decide if I even want to keep listening to you."

He clenches his jaw, hands curling into fists at his sides "YN—"

"No," You cut him off "You ignored me for weeks. You left me sitting alone at that restaurant like a fool. You ghosted me after we fucked. And then…" You pull out your phone, swipe through it, and hold up the screen in his face "Seonghwa sent me this."

Hongjoong frowns at the image—a picture of him and Jina at the café, her arms wrapped around him in what looks like an intimate moment. His brows furrow.

The fuck? Is this the picture Wooyoung mentioned?

"Wait—what? When was this taken?"

You scoff, lowering your phone "So you don’t even know."

"No, I don’t—”

“Seonghwa sent it to me the same day as our date. Funny, huh?” Your bitter laugh stings more than a slap "You ditched me for this slut? Really, Kim?"

Hongjoong exhales slowly, his mind racing to piece things together. And then it clicks.

That night. The last-minute call. The way time slipped through his fingers.

“Pretty, it’s not what you think.”

You arch a brow in mock amusement “No?”

“No,” He says firmly, stepping closer, his voice steady despite the storm inside him “Let me explain from the beginning.”

He sits beside you, carefully, as if afraid you’ll push him away.

“That night, when we… When we slept together, I went home and found out my dad lost his job. Without his income, my family will struggle. So I did what I had to do—I found a part-time job at a café. That’s why I kept telling you I was busy after school.”

You stare at him, your expression unreadable. Then, you scoff, shaking your head.

“What a fucking joke.” His stomach sinks “So, you’re telling me that stupid rumor was false?”

“Completely.”

"And why didn't you tell me?" You snap, hitting his arm "I could have helped, and tell my parents to give your father a job or something! None of this drama would have happened!"

Hongjoong lets you hit him, knowing he deserves it "I know, but I didn’t want to burden you. You already had enough going on with Mike."

“You’re an idiot, Hongjoong! I thought the worst!” Another smack lands on his arm, and he barely flinches.

"I didn’t show up to our date because Jina called me at the last minute. She said it was something urgent, and it wouldn’t take long. But when I finally checked the time, I realized you were already gone.” He swallows hard “I meant to explain. But I was a coward—I didn’t know how.”

You study him, your gaze softening just a fraction “And the picture?”

He exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair “I don’t know. But I swear, there’s nothing between me and Jina. She’s just my coworker.”

Silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. Then, Hongjoong reaches for your hand hesitantly, voice softening.

"Pretty, please believe me. I never wanted this to happen."

You let out a slow exhale, your shoulders slumping "Fine. But I still have a lot of questions."

Hongjoong nods, relief washing over him. Then, his gaze darkens as he looks at your bruises again. He gently cups your cheek, his thumb ghosting over the cut on your lip.

"Now… tell me what happened to you."

You hesitate. Then, in a quiet voice, you tell him.

“Mike.”

He stiffens, his grip tightening ever so slightly “Mike? Why?”

You swallow, looking away "It’s not the first time. He’s always had a problem controlling his anger. Whenever we argued, or I did something he didn’t like, he used to slap me. But this time… it was different. Since he came back, he’s been making my life hell, and I don’t know why."

Hongjoong inhales sharply, his hands clenching into fists "Why didn’t you tell me?" His voice is tight, laced with something dark—rage, guilt, protectiveness.

"Because he scares me," You whisper. This is the first time you admit being scared of Mike.

You look… small, fragile.

Broken.

Hongjoong doesn’t think. He just moves. He pulls you into his arms, holding you close, pressing his chin to the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry, pretty,” He murmurs, his heart aching at the quiet, shuddering breaths against his chest.

You stay like that for a long moment, wrapped in silence, until you speak again.

"He’s been acting weird. Like, he knows things that are private among my friends.”

“What do you mean?”

You pull back slightly “I don't know why, but he suddenly knew about you and our relationship, also the night I went to the club, someone sent Mike a video of me smoking.”

Hongjoong frowns “Someone recorded you?”

You nod “But only my close friends were there. Wooyoung and Mindy would never do something like that. That leaves Seonghwa, San, Mingi, and Samantha.”

He exhales sharply “Seonghwa. It has to be him.”

“But we made a truce. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”

Hongjoong shakes his head “I don’t trust him, pretty.”

You hesitate, thinking “But even if he recorded it… how did Mike get it? They know each other because of our families, but they’re not close.”

Silence. Until one name suddenly clicks into place.

“…Dann.”

Hongjoong frowns “Why her?”

You straighten, your mind racing “Mindy told me that Seonghwa talked with her at the party, something that is really rare. Also Dann gave you the wrong address, and maybe—maybe she even started the rumor about us at school.”

The realization settles between you like a ticking bomb.

“We need to find out the truth.”

You nod, determination hardening your features “We do. Also, I can ask my dad If he has a job for your dad, I don't want you to work in that cafeteria with that bitch.”

Hongjoong chuckles “Fine, thank you, pretty.”

And with that, your heart feels more at ease knowing the truth, knowing that he is with you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

It had been two weeks since the day Mike had left bruises on your skin, and the sick feeling of helplessness in your gut.

It’s been two weeks since you went to school, refusing to let everyone see you in that state.

As always, your parents refused to acknowledge the real issue.

You sit in your room, staring at the velvet box fanned out on your desk. It’s always the same cycle.

You would get hurt, and your parents would throw money at the problem, expecting you to accept it with gratitude.

Maybe you would have, once upon a time. But not anymore. Not after everything.

You aren’t going to let them buy your silence this time. If they think a luxurious car would make you forget that their golden son had left marks on your skin, they are dead wrong.

If anything, this is the perfect opportunity.

You’re going to take their gift, but instead of numbing yourself in paradise, you would use it to take the first step in exposing Mike for what he really is.

Bringing him down from his pedestal is’t going to be easy. Your parents are blind to his flaws, and the rest of the world worships him. But you have something they don’t.

You have the truth, and you have Hanhah.

Your fingers brush against your phone as you pull up a text conversation. It 's one of many. Over these four years, you had kept in touch with Hannah, sending her money every month to help with the baby.

A baby that Mike had abandoned, a baby who would be turning four soon.

You scroll through the latest messages, lingering on a photo Hannah had sent a few days ago. A little girl with big, round eyes and wisps of dark hair smiled up at the camera, completely oblivious to the world she had been born into.

The sight of her made your chest tighten.

You can feel it in your bones—this is the way to finally shatter Mike’s perfect image. Your parents can’t ignore this. They wouldn’t be able to excuse him once they knew the truth.

But you need to be smart. If you are going to do this, you can’t do it alone.

That’s where Hongjoong, Mindy, and Wooyoung came in.

You grab your phone and fire off a quick message to the group chat you have with them.

YN♡: Meet me at the cafe tonight. No excuses.

You know they would come. They always do. And once they are here, you would tell them everything.

And about Seonghwa and Dann—because you have a feeling that whatever is going on with Mike, those two aren’t far behind.

By the time it is over, you would make sure Mike’s untouchable image is nothing but dust.

✮ ⋆

“You want to tell your parents about Hannah?” Mindy finally says, her brows furrowed “Are you sure about this, babe?”

“I have to,” You respond, voice steady “I can’t let him keep getting away with everything.”

Wooyoung lets out a low whistle “And how exactly are you planning to do that? I mean, your parents are obsessed with Mike. Even if you show them proof, they might cover it up.”

You exhale sharply, already expecting this “That’s why I need more than just the truth—I need to make it so public they can’t ignore it.”

Mindy tilts her head “When are you planning to tell them?”

“If Seonghwa and Dann are involved in this, I need to deal with them first… Then with Mike.”

“You really think they’re working with Mike?” Wooyoung asks.

“It makes too much sense. Mike knew things he had no way of knowing. The video of me smoking, the rumors about Joong, the fake address Dann gave him… someone was feeding him information.”

Mindy taps a manicured finger against her knee “So what’s the plan?”

You lean forward “First, I’ll talk to Hannah. Maybe ask her for a DNA test or something that will make my parents believe me.” You meet Hongjoong’s gaze “You will come with me.”

“Me? I don't even know who she is.”

“You don't need to know her, I just need some support.”

He hesitates for a moment before nodding “Okay.”

You then turn to Wooyoung and Mindy “As for you two… I need you to say something false about me and Joong, make sure Seonghwa listens. Only like that can we know if Hwa and Dann are working with Mike.”

Woo grins, cracking his knuckles “You want dirt? I’ll get you dirt, babydoll.”

Mindy smirks “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

You lean back, exhaling. The plan is in motion. Now, all they have to do is execute it perfectly.

The night air is crisp as you step out of the café, your mind already racing with what needs to be done next. The plan is fragile—it has to be executed perfectly, or everything could backfire.

Hongjoong walks beside you, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his gaze flickering toward you every few seconds.

“Are you sure you want me there?” He asks. “I mean… Hannah might not even want to see me.”

You inhale deeply, steadying yourself “She won’t care about you, Joong. She’ll care about what I have to say.”

He doesn’t argue, but you can tell he’s uneasy. Maybe it’s because he still doesn’t know everything.

“We’re meeting her tomorrow,” You continue. “She doesn’t know why yet, but she agreed.”

He nods, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him. He wants to ask more. Maybe about this woman, maybe about what you have in mind.

But you don’t give him the chance. Because right now, there’s something more pressing.

Wooyoung and Mindy walk a few steps ahead, already whispering between themselves, likely crafting the perfect lie to spread.

They need to bait Seonghwa. It has to be something good—something that hurts.

“So what should we say?” Mindy asks, glancing back at you. “Something mild or something explosive?”

“Explosive,” You say without hesitation. “Something that makes me look weak. Hwa will eat it up.”

Wooyoung grins “How about we say that you and little Hongjoong broke up?”

Hongjoong tenses beside you. You glance at him but don’t react “Not enough… We need something that will make Hwa really want Mike to know.”

Mindy taps her chin, pretending to think. “How about this—Hongjoong is using you to get popularity and status, you know about it but you’re still with him, done.”

Hongjoong exhales sharply through his nose “That’s messed up.”

“That’s perfect,” You correct.

Mindy shrugs “If we’re going to do this, we might as well make it believable.”

“Just make sure Seonghwa hears it, and if you can, make sure to see if he interacts with Dann.” You remind them. “If it gets back to Mike too quickly, he and Dann will be suspicious.”

Wooyoung throws an arm around Mindy’s shoulders “Oh, don’t worry, babydoll. By the time we’re done, Seonghwa will be begging Dann to tell Mike.”

The four of you reach the parking lot, where your cars are waiting. For a moment, you let the night sink in, let the weight of what you’re about to do settle on your shoulders.

This is it.

The first move.

Tomorrow, you will see Hannah.

Tomorrow, everything will change.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The drive to Hannah’s apartment is quiet.

Hongjoong grips the steering wheel, eyes flickering toward you every so often, but he doesn’t speak.

You know he has questions—a lot of them—but you aren’t ready to answer.

Not yet.

The known streets fade the further you go, the streets narrowing, the polished luxury of your world giving way to something simpler, something real.

The buildings are smaller, older, stacked closely together. There’s no security at the entrance, no valet, no extravagance. Just a plain apartment complex with rusted railings and dimly lit hallways.

Hongjoong pulls into a spot and cuts the engine. He exhales, rubbing a hand over your thigh.

“Are you sure about this?”

You don’t hesitate “Yes.”

He studies you for a moment, like he’s trying to see past the walls you’ve built. Then, with a slow nod, he pushes open his door.

Holding hands, you two walk towards the little building. The stairs creak beneath your heels as you ascend to the third floor. Apartment 3B.

You don’t knock right away. Your fingers hover over the door for a second too long.

He notices “Pretty?”

Before you can second-guess yourself, you knock. A few moments later, the door swings open.

Hannah stands there, barefoot, dressed in simple lounge clothes. No makeup, no carefully styled hair, just Hana.

She blinks in surprise when she sees Hongjoong beside you, but her expression quickly hardens.

“You brought company,” She says flatly.

You exhale “Can we come in?”

Hannah hesitates. Then, without a word, she steps aside.

The apartment is small but warm. Lived in. A couch with a few toys scattered around, a tiny dining table with an open laptop, the faint scent of baby powder and vanilla lingering in the air.

And then—

“Auntie!”

A small blur of motion comes rushing toward you. Tiny arms wrap around your legs, a little giggle filling the space.

Hongjoong freezes beside you.

You crouch down, smoothing a hand over the little girl’s soft, dark curls “Hi, baby.”

She beams at you, big round eyes shining with pure joy “Did you bring me a present?”

Your chest tightens “I’ll bring one next time, I promise.”

She giggles again, then turns her attention to Hongjoong, tilting her head curiously.

“Who’s that?”

Joong is pale, not believing what he is seeing.

You stand, brushing imaginary dust from your clothes “This is my friend, Hongjoong.”

The little girl stares at him for a moment, “Do you like cookies?”

He blinks “Uh… yeah?”

The little girl grins “Then you can stay.”

And with that, she toddles off toward the couch, already forgetting about him.

Hanhah watches the whole exchange with guarded eyes “You didn’t tell him, did you?” She finally says.

Hongjoong shifts beside you, eyes darting between the two of you “Tell me what?”

You inhale sharply, turning to face him fully. “Joong… this is Hanhah’s daughter.”

His brows furrow “Okay…?”

You swallow, your voice steady but heavy “She’s Mike’s daughter.”

The words drop like a bomb in the small apartment.

Hongjoong’s entire body goes stiff. His eyes widen, darting back to the little girl, who is now occupied with a stuffed bear on the couch. Slowly, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle that shouldn’t exist, he turns back to you.

“YN,” He says carefully, voice lower now, “What the hell are you talking about?”

You clench your jaw “Exactly what I said.”

Hannah crosses her arms, looking at him like she’s daring him to say something stupid.

“You didn’t think Mike was actually perfect, did you?”

Hongjoong swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing “He—he has a kid?”

“With me,” Hanhah confirms. “And he threatened to ruin my life if I ever told anyone.”

He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair “Jesus Christ, pretty.”

You shift closer to him, lowering your voice “Now do you see why I need to do this?”

Joong exhales sharply, glancing at the little girl again. His expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across his face. And then, he nods.

“I’m in,” He says. “Whatever you need, I’m in.”

For the first time that night, you breathe a little easier.

Because this is just the beginning.

✮ ⋆

The air feels heavy with unspoken words as you and Hongjoong sit at the small, worn-out table across from Hannah.

The little girl, still distracted by her stuffed bear, giggles every now and then, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the room.

Hongjoong, still processing, doesn’t look at you, but he holds your hand in his. His eyes are fixed on the little girl, his mind likely racing with questions.

"You’re telling me Mike doesn’t know she’s alive?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper, the disbelief in it palpable.

Hannah’s gaze darkens "No. He thinks I had an abortion. That’s what he told me to do. He threatened me, said if I didn’t… he’d ruin my life. He was so sure of it. He made me believe it was the only option." Her voice cracks slightly, but she steadies herself.

“But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t end her life just because Mike didn’t want the world to know about her."

The words land like a punch, and Hongjoong recoils slightly, the reality of the situation sinking in.

"That’s why you’ve been—" He gestures vaguely toward her daughter, still oblivious to the weight of their conversation. "You’ve been keeping her a secret all these years?"

She nods, her face hardening as she looks down at her daughter "I’ve had to. For her safety. For my sanity. I couldn't risk Mike finding out she was alive. Not after everything he said." She pauses, her fingers brushing over the baby’s small hand. “I’ve kept in contact with YN, because… because someone had to know the truth.”

You feel a pang of guilt in your chest, the weight of what you’ve been hiding from everyone—the truth that no one, especially Mike, could ever learn.

You’ve helped her for years, sending money for the baby, but the lies have built walls between you and your family.

It was always supposed to stay secret. But now, you need to bring it all into the light. And you need to do it carefully.

You turn to Hongjoong, your voice low “Mike doesn’t know she’s alive. And he can’t. He will never find out, not from me. And I’ve never let anyone get close to her… until now.”

His eyes flicker with understanding, the pieces finally coming together "So... we’re not just exposing Mike’s secrets, we’re exposing his lies too."

You nod, the weight of the plan growing heavier “Exactly.”

Hannah sits in silence for a moment, as if weighing something in her mind.

“I know this is going to be dangerous for all of us. I’ve lived in fear of Mike finding out. But I can’t hide anymore. This girl deserves to know the truth.”

You exhale, your heart racing “I won’t let him keep his image. Not anymore.”

“Okay,” Hongjoong says finally, his voice steady. “But you know this is going to take more than just telling your parents, right? We need evidence. Something undeniable.”

You nod again “That’s why we need a DNA test. Hannah, you’re going to have to agree to it. It’s the only way we can prove it. If we can show them she is his, there’s no way they’ll be able to cover it up.”

She hesitates, you see the fear flash across her face “If I do this... will it be enough? Will your parents believe it?”

“I hope so,” You say firmly. “And once they know—once we have that proof—they’ll have no choice but to acknowledge him for who he really is. No more pretending.”

Hongjoong watches you for a beat, his eyes softening just slightly “We’ll do this together. But we have to be careful. One wrong move and it’s over.”

Hannah stands up, wiping her palms on her pants, clearly anxious but resolved.

“Okay. I’ll do it. For her. For her future.”

The little girl looks up at the three of you, her big, innocent eyes wide.

“Are we gonna tell Daddy soon?”

Your breath catches in your throat. The innocence in her voice makes everything feel so much heavier.

“We’ll tell him when the time is right,” You say, forcing a smile. “When he’s ready to hear it.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

While you and Hongjoon talk with Hannah, Mindy and Wooyoung sit casually in the school cafeteria, their voices just loud enough to be overheard.

Woo, always the playful one, dramatically leans in closer to Mindy, whispering just loud enough for nearby ears to catch pieces of their conversation.

“You heard about Hongjoong, right?” Wooyoung says, shaking his head with exaggerated concern. “Babydoll’s been buying him stuff. Like, a lot of stuff.”

Mindy gasps, playing along “No way. So the rumors are true? He’s just using her?”

Woo sighs, rubbing his temples “I don’t want to believe it, but even YN’s starting to realize it. She told me she’s thinking about ending things. She’s just waiting for the right moment.”

Seonghwa, sitting at a nearby table with other students, doesn’t react outwardly, but Mindy catches the way his fingers still over his phone.

She knows he’s listening. Mindy lowers her voice just a bit, making it seem like she doesn’t want to be overheard.

“That’s not all. Hongjoong’s been acting super secretive. I heard he’s meeting up with someone outside of school. A girl.”

Wooyoung raises an eyebrow “A girl? Who?”

Mindy shrugs, keeping it vague “I don’t know yet, but I’m sure it’s not YN.”

A beat of silence. Then Seonghwa stands, casually stretching before walking off—phone in hand.

Mindy and Wooyoung exchange a look. Hook, line, and sinker.

If Seonghwa really is working with Dann, it won’t be long before this ‘information’ reaches Mike.

✮ ⋆

Dann moves through the crowded hallway, her arms wrapped tightly around her books as she heads toward the library.

She’s been keeping her head down lately, avoiding unnecessary conversations—especially with Mike and Seonghwa.

After what happened to you, after seeing Mike’s violence firsthand, something in her feels wrong.

Maybe this has gone too far.

But Seonghwa doesn’t give her a choice.

“Dann.”

His voice cuts through the noise, smooth and controlled, but she knows him well enough to hear the edge beneath it. She stops mid-step, squeezing her eyes shut for a brief second before turning around.

Seonghwa leans casually against the lockers, arms crossed, looking her up and down with that usual amused smirk. But there’s something else in his expression—something sharp.

“We need to talk.”

Dann swallows “I have class.”

“It can wait.” He pushes off the lockers and steps closer, lowering his voice. “I heard something you’re gonna love.”

She forces herself to look bored “I doubt that.”

Hwa chuckles, shaking his head “You really should be more curious, Dann. You and I both know Mike would want to hear this.”

Her stomach twists “I don’t—”

“The nerd is using YN.”

Dann freezes. Seonghwa watches her carefully, letting the words settle in before continuing.

“Wooyoung and Mindy said it. Apparently, Hongjoong’s only with her for popularity. And get this—she knows it. She’s staying with him anyway.”

Dann shifts uncomfortably, gripping her books tighter “So what? That’s their problem, not ours.”

Hwa’s smirk fades slightly “Are you forgetting who you’re working with? Mike needs to know this.”

Dann glances around, her pulse quickening “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t get involved in this one.”

His eyes narrow, and just like that, his amusement vanishes. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“What’s wrong with you lately?”

“Nothing,” She lies, shifting her weight.

“You’re acting differently.”

“I just think—” She hesitates, wetting her lips. “I think Mike has enough reasons to hate her already. He doesn’t need this one either.”

Seonghwa scoffs, shaking his head “Of course he does. What’s better than proving she’s pathetic? That she’s weak?” He tilts his head, watching her carefully. “Unless you don’t want to be useful to him anymore?”

Dann clenches her jaw. She feels cornered, the guilt pressing down on her chest.

YN doesn’t deserve this.

But Seonghwa is watching her like a predator, waiting for any sign of weakness. If she refuses, he’ll start asking questions—questions that might lead back to her hesitations, her guilt. If Mike finds out she’s doubting him…

She exhales shakily, looking down at her shoes “Fine,” she mutters. “I’ll tell him.”

His smirk returns instantly “Good girl.”

She doesn’t move right away. Every fiber of her being screams at her to walk away, to stop this before it goes any further.

But she doesn’t.

Instead, she pulls out her phone, her fingers trembling as she types a message to him.

Dann: We need to talk. It’s about YN and Hongjoong.

As she presses send, she feels sick.

She doesn’t notice the two figures watching from down the hall.

Wooyoung leans lazily against the lockers, arms crossed, his grin widening. “Babydoll was right.”

Mindy hums, inspecting her nails. “Honestly, I knew it since the day I saw her talking with Hwa at the party.”

Woo chuckles. “Well, he did what we needed him to do.”

Mindy smirks, flicking her gaze toward Dann “Now lets see if Dann tells Mike.”

Because once Mike hears this, things will really start falling apart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The evening air is cool against your skin as you push open the balcony doors of your bedroom, stepping outside with a quiet sigh.

The city lights stretch far into the distance, twinkling against the dark sky.

Everything feels too much—Hannah, the baby, the truth you’re about to reveal. It’s all starting to feel real.

But then, there’s him.

Hongjoong stands a few feet away, leaning against the railing, his gaze distant. He’s been quiet since you got home, like he’s still trying to piece everything together.

You step beside him, resting your arms on the railing "You’re thinking too much," You murmur.

He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head "Can you blame me?"

You tilt your head, watching him "What’s on your mind?"

He exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Hannah, the baby, Mike. You." He glances at you then, something unreadable in his expression. "This is a lot, pretty. I just… I don’t want you to go through this alone."

You blink at him, caught off guard.

He’s serious.

"You really mean that?" You ask softly.

Hongjoong turns fully toward you, his brows drawing together. "Of course I do. I—" He hesitates, like the words are caught in his throat. Then, with a deep breath, he presses on. "I care about you, YN. More than you think."

Your heart does something strange—tightens, twists, then swells. You don’t know what to say. No one has ever said that to you, not like this.

Not like they meant it.

So, instead of words, you step closer, your hands reaching out on instinct.

He doesn’t move as you slip your arms around his waist, pressing your forehead against his shoulder.

He’s warm, steady, safe.

For a second, he’s frozen. Then, slowly, his arms come around you too, holding you just as tightly.

"You don’t have to do anything for me," You whisper. "Just… stay with me."

Hongjoong rests his chin on top of your head, his voice quiet but firm.

"I’m not going anywhere."

And for the first time in a long time, you believe it.

✮ ⋆

Your room is dimly lit, the golden glow from your bedside lamp casting soft shadows on the walls.

The silence is peaceful, interrupted only by the faint sound of pages flipping as Hongjoong sits on your bed, pretending to read a book but really just stealing glances at you.

You’re laying next to him, your head resting in his lap while you scroll over your social media.

He is about to say something when a sharp knock.

No. Not a knock. A demand interrupts him.

You freeze, and Hongjoong’s muscles tense. Then the door swings open without waiting for permission.

Mike steps inside, composed as ever, but there’s something in his eyes—something sharp, something dangerous.

You meet his gaze, already standing from your comfortable position.

"What the hell are you—"

"You’re pathetic," He cuts you off smoothly "And predictable." His gaze flickers to Hongjoong, and he lets out a small, humorless chuckle "I should have known he’d be here."

"What do you want, Mike?"

"You really are desperate, aren’t you?" His voice is low, full of quiet venom "So desperate for someone to want you that you’re letting this nerd use you. And what’s worse?" He tilts his head, lips curving into something cruel "You fucking know it."

You smile when you hear that. It was them.

"And where did you get that brilliant theory? Park Seonghwa?" A pause "Or Dann?"

Something flickers in Mike’s eyes. Park Seonghwa? What does Seonghwa have to do with this?

You scoff "Of course. You must be proud—controlling people like puppets, just like you always do."

Mike steps closer "And you’re any different?" His voice lowers "You lie to yourself every day, pretending you’re not just as pathetic as the rest of them. But deep down, you know the truth."

"You want to talk about truth?" Your heart pounds as you take a step forward, voice daring, reckless "What about Hannah then?"

The moment the name Hannah leaves your lips, the air in the room shifts. Mike stiffens, his entire body going rigid. The usual arrogance in his expression wavers—just for a second, but it’s there.

A crack. A weakness.

You see it, Hongjoong sees it.

And then, Mike moves.

The slap comes fast, too fast.

The sound of it rings through the room, a sickening crack as his palm connects with your cheek, whipping your head to the side.

The sting is instant, burning hot, your skin already throbbing. You gasp, stumbling back, your vision blurring for a split second.

But before you can process the pain—before you can even react—Hongjoong is already moving.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" The anger in his voice is like nothing you’ve ever heard before.

Hongjoong shoves Mike back, his entire body coiled with fury. The sharp contrast between his usual calm demeanor and the pure rage in his eyes is enough to make even Mike falter.

"You don’t get to do that," Hongjoong seethes, standing between you and your brother, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles are white. "Not to her. Not to anyone."

Mike’s lips curl, his composure snapping back into place, but there’s an unmistakable flicker of irritation—maybe even surprise—at Hongjoong’s audacity.

"And what exactly do you think you’re doing?" Mike taunts, brushing off the shove like it was nothing. "You think you can protect her?" He scoffs. "You think she needs you?"

Hongjoong doesn’t flinch "She doesn’t need me," He admits, voice steady. "But I’m still here. And I won’t fucking stand by while you hurt her."

There’s something raw, undeniable in his words. You blink, still dazed from the slap, your hand hovering near your stinging cheek. Hongjoong turns slightly, eyes softening when they land on you.

"Are you okay, pretty?" His voice is lower now, gentle.

Something inside you twists.

Mike clicks his tongue in disgust "Pathetic," He mutters.

Hongjoong’s jaw clenches "Get the fuck out."

For the first time, Mike hesitates.

Hongjoong’s not just some quiet, desperate nerd anymore. He’s furious. Unshakable. And for once, Mike doesn’t have complete control over the situation.

"You’re making a mistake, nerd." Mike finally says, his voice cold, but there’s something else there too—annoyance, maybe even unease.

"Get. Out," Hongjoong repeats, this time his voice lower, quieter—but somehow deadlier.

Mike holds his gaze for a long moment before scoffing and turning toward the door. But before he leaves, he glances at you one last time.

"You think you’re playing some clever game, but you have no idea what you’re doing," He murmurs. "You’ll regret this, YN."

With that, he walks out, slamming the door behind him. The room is suffocatingly silent in the aftermath.

Hongjoong exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he turns back to you. His fingers twitch, like he wants to reach for you but isn’t sure if he should.

"Pretty—"

"I’m fine," You cut him off, voice tight.

But you’re not fine.

You’re shaking. Your cheek burns. Your heart is racing. And then, without thinking, you step forward and wrap your arms around Hongjoong.

He melts immediately into the embrace, his arms coming around you protectively.

"I’ve got you," He murmurs into your hair. "I’m right here."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Taglist: @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 @nyx-y @yeorisanaxox @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @ddeonugu @niaee @yunhogrippers @itzyejiluv @sannieworshipper @m0onchild-98 @l0vjoongie

☆○☆○☆○

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙴𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙱𝚢 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 "𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚑, 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 (𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊)"

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜

𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎

𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚂𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢

I’m trying to guess if this is when be:first comes in or they come in for an entirely different reason.

| 𝒮𝑒𝓁𝒻𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒 | Chapter Three

Ot8!Mafia!Ateez x Female!Reader

Summary: After losing everything through gambling, your father's debts to the Ateez Mafia have resulted in you becoming their property. With no other family left, you are now at the mercy of these dangerous criminals due to your father's reckless actions.

Warnings: None (If I forgot any, don’t be afraid to tell me!)

Amazing Tags: @n0v4t33z @potatomountain for the inspiration

WC: 2k

Nets: @othersideoutlawsnetwork

Tags: @xomakara @jedi-dreea @beabatiny @ateezaddict24 @spenceatiny18 @18fernanda @prodsh00ky @evercodeee @yizhou-time @smally97 @eshia-16 @daniela-f-uwu u @peachyy-joonie @butterfliesinthenightsky @dassmyname @unlikelysublimekryptonite @dollinno @stay-tiny-things @joongscheese @misskarynie @monstacheol @yeosangcutie0615 @mariaa @pinuspot @amphiroxx @kitten4sannie (MOTIVATION THANK YOU) tags to be continued.

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NO LONGER DOING TAGS AFTER THIS CHAPTER, follow if you want to be notified.

Days had passed since Y/N was captured. Each day felt like a year being passed, it was agonizing. She wasn’t allowed to leave her room since she tried to escape her first day. She had visitors, mainly Hongjoong. Who she’s come to slowly trust but was still afraid of him.

Hongjoong was a nice man, genuinely. His exterior was soft and he behaved tough with his members but he took care of Y/N so well. He’d brush her hair, calm her down if she had a breakdown.

Just as he was doing now.

“Sh, sh, beautiful. Don’t waste those tears on that beautiful face of yours.” Hongjoong’s fingers were quick to wipe away her tears, “I know you don’t want to be here but it has to be this way. We don’t play about our money. Or being backstabbed.”

Y/N looked at him with tear stained eyes, “I know..I’m just, I’m just scared, Mr Hongjoong. Your people scare me.”

He let out a small chortle, “Oh, beautiful.” A small tut left his mouth, “My men are ruthless, I trained them to be that way but I did however, tell them to treat you gently. Cannot allow our only leverage to be damaged.” No one would believe the amount of times their leverage was killed and they never got their revenge. Or money.

That was Wooyoung's fault last time. He was of course punished accordingly in more ways than one (he liked his punishment so it was useless in the end.)

The tired girl nodded as she let Hongjoong pull her close, his embrace was warm and inviting.

“Come now, let’s get you some food.”

Y/N allowed him to gently walk her down the hallway and down a lavish staircase. It led into what she assumed was the grand entrance, but it was heavily guarded and maids were fluttering around, cleaning every corner.

“Kitchen is this way. However I’d advise you not to touch anything until I tell you so. Wooyoung is particular about his kitchen.” Hongjoong pressed his hand against her lower back as he ushered her into the said room.

“Hongjoong is that you?” A voice called out followed by clattering dishes.

“Yeah it’s me, come here, Woo. Want you to meet someone.” With those words, Wooyoung set down his dish and turned around.

A beautiful man was revealed. Was everyone in this house so strikingly handsome? Wooyoung grinned at the newcomer, thoughts already plaguing his mind, “Mm, is this the pretty girl I’ve heard so much about?”

Y/N looked away, all flustered, not used to such compliments or this many at all.

“Wooyoung. Don’t. But yes, this is the shitheads daughter. She’s our leverage till he comes out of hiding.” Hongjoong’s voice only had a moment of authority, shortly returning to a softer tone.

“Oh, okay, well. Can we keep her?” Wooyoung grinned and stepped closer, quickly pushing his leader's buttons.

Y/N stepped behind Hongjoong to avoid the gaze of the man. She wasn’t afraid but his grin was quite compelling, as if to lead her into seduction. It was definitely working. His long hair was stunning and his nose, so damn majestic.

Hongjoong could hear her every thought and he couldn’t help but shake his head, “I swear, between the two of you- you know what, never mind. Anyway, Wooyoung. I have a job for you.”

Wooyoung immediately turned serious, “Yes, sir?”

“I need you to find out more about her father. We need to pinpoint secret hiding locations. Places he’d think we’d never check. If you can, take Y/N to the city and have her show you places. But don’t let her out of your eyesight,” Hongjoong then stepped forward and grabbed Wooyoung’s shoulder, “and don’t do anything stupid. Don’t even try to flirt your way into her pants.”

“Fine, captain.”

“Good, now get ready to go. I have an arms dealer to meet with.” Hongjoong quickly left Y/N to Wooyoung’s devices.

Oh boy, this was gonna be a train wreck.

—

“Ah, ah, slow down little Princess. I was told to keep an eye on you.” Wooyoung scoffed as he tried to chase after the girl. She wasn’t trying to escape, no, she was trying to find her father so she didn’t have to go back.

As she swung the corner to a deli, eagerly looking inside for her father. He was nowhere to be seen. Of course he wasn’t.

He always did this. He ran from his problems and even now, he abandoned his own daughter. Y/N felt lost, betrayed, heartbroken even.

Wooyoung finally caught up to her, “What are you- oh. He’s not here is he?” Wooyoung could feel her disappointment and sheer sadness. He almost felt bad but then again, you don’t fuck with ateez, “Hey, listen. This just means you get to hang out some more with me.” He tried to lighten up her mood but it only made it worse and she broke down.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Wooyoung panicked and lifted her off the ground, “Shit, I’m so sorry, please do not cry.”

Y/N shoved him away but that only angered him. He was trying to be nice and help her.

“Fine, be that way but you’re still going back to the manor.” Wooyoung let her arm go and called Hongjoong, “She’s done being outside for the day, we are coming back, sir.”

Y/N protested as she was flipped onto the man’s shoulder, “Let me go!” Bystanders watched but did nothing.

They knew better not to interfere.

Y/N sobbed in defeat as she pounded onto his back, trying her damndest to get away.

Wooyoung did feel only just tad bad about treating her this way but they need her to find her father. Sure, they could just let it go but then it would set an example for others that they could get away with betraying the group. Wooyoung knew Hongjoong’s ego wouldn’t let that fly. Ever.

“Y/N, please stop flailing around. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice was soft spoken, showing he meant his words. Wooyoung truly didn’t want to hurt her.

Wait.

He had an idea. Maybe ice cream would cheer her up.

What an idiot, he really thought that was gonna solve these issues? He truly forgot what humans were like.

“If you stop smacking my back, I will take you somewhere for a bit and we won’t have to go back to the manor right away.” That seemed to calm Y/N down, only for her to question him.

“What..do you mean?” Her arms came at a rest on his back as she turned to look at the back of his head. Only for him to set the girl down.

“Ateez owns a few regular businesses, so I’m gonna take you to one, maybe get you some ice cream. How does that sound?” Wooyoung tried to console her, reaching to wipe away stray tears. His polished nails caught her eye. Another beautiful trait of his.

“Okay.. that actually sounds good.” Y/N did truly miss her everyday things, maybe ice cream could numb the pain for a moment.

She hoped so.

—

The parlor was near empty, not many patrons but the ones that were there kind of spooked her.

The parlor was bright in color on the inside, just a few tables and one employee around. That person even scared her. They were covered in tattoos from the neck down as far as she could tell. Why would anyone get ice cream here? Why would a mafia own an ice cream shop to begin with?

“Hello, Mr. Jung, it’s good to see you.” The employee behind the counter smiled, immediately greeting Wooyoung, “Are you getting your usual today?” They were quick to start scooping a green ice cream, presumably either mint or pistachio.

“No, actually I’m here to get something for Miss Y/N, think you can whip up some fresh ice cream?” Wooyoung walked the girl to the counter, her head hung low however.

“Yes sir, I can do that. What would you like, Miss?”

Y/N looked up, all shy like, “Um, can I have neopolitan?” She wasn’t sure what flavor she wanted so she went for something basic.

Once the ice cream was handed to her, Wooyoung brought her over to a corner to relax, “So, Y/N, why don’t you tell me about yourself. I can answer some questions if you’d like as well.”

Y/N picked at the melting cream, “Uh, yeah sure. What did you want to know?”

“Well, can you tell me how your father got you into this mess? Why he ran from us?” Wooyoung became serious, yet was still calm.

“I mean, my mom died a few years ago and we received her life insurance money after that. It was about two hundred thousand dollars I think.” Y/N picked at her ice cream some more before pushing it away, “I never got to see it. My dad I guess, in his grief began gambling. A weird way to cope in my opinion. But, he eventually gambled away their shared savings and her life insurance money. He’s evaded loan sharks and debt collectors for a while. I don’t know how he still has the house, it’s in poor condition anyway.”

Wooyoung continued to listen intently, taking notes.

“He eventually started stealing my savings and such, my rent money also. I have my own place and my own car but he’s still taken things from me.” She hated her father and every ounce of his being, yet she still cared, “That day you guys kidnapped me, was the day he took the last of my money I had. Then he disappeared I guess.”

“I see..” Wooyoung hummed in response, “Well, I’m sorry to say, you’re stuck with us until we find him. But don’t worry, you won’t be stuck in a cell. Well, unless you piss off Hongjoong.” Even though he tried to make her laugh, it didn’t work anyway.

“So what do you want to know about me?”

Y/N shrugged, “I’m not sure I really want to know anything. I don’t want to know things I shouldn’t and potentially be killed.”

Wooyoung laughed before he spoke, “Y/N. I’m not going to kill you. But if you have no questions then. That’s fine. Are you done with your ice cream?”

“Yeah, I am.” Even though she had barely touched it, it had already melted.

“I suppose we can head back then.”

—

“Head up to your room. I need to speak with Hongjoong.” Wooyoung ushered her away and made his way to his leader's office.

Three knocks to the wood and he walked in, “Hello captain. I’m sorry to say that we couldn’t find him in the places that we looked. However I got some more information on him.”

“Go on, Wooyoung. I don’t have all day.”

“Sorry sir. I have learned that Y/N’s father has evaded many loan sharks. Just like he has evaded us. It has me wondering if he has someone helping him. And we may need to look into it honestly.” Wooyoung didn’t like the look that appeared on Hongjoong’s face. It reminded him of something that happened in the past. Something he wasn’t ready to remember.

“He what?” A fire burned in his eyes that went deep. His fists clenched as he went to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Fine. He wants to be a coward and run from us. Little does he know he just fucked with a God.”

Wooyoung began to grin as he realized his old captain was coming back, “What are you planning for us, sir?”

“You know damn well what I have planned. Grab Yunho, I’m gonna need him to prepare a few things, notify Seonghwa as well. I’m gonna need him too. It’s time this fucker pays for abandoning a beauty and fucking with me.”

Y/N’s father had no idea just who he screwed over.

I love this so much! Another thought I had is him secretly buying takeout and pretending he cooked it just to impress reader

hey, I saw your event and I’m curious about yours thoughts on prompt one: "when he is in your kitchen cooking something for you" for jongseob

cause even though in their most recent video where they cooked food for chuseok jongseob can’t cook and he knows this, but he was so proud of what he made.

I feel like he would still try to make something edible for his s/o.

HIII!! omgg i remember you from the piwon ask w seob. I SAW THAT VIDEO TOO, AND I LAUGHED SO HARD DJASJDAN.

"ofc i know how to cook it, i did it a million times!" cit jongseob. probably lying, like maybe it's something he saw on a youtube video and he tried it once in his life</3. but he would lie just to be able to cook something for you!!! using your kitchen. partially because it brings him a sense of family, and partially because he genuinely has no tools in his apartment... and i feel he would choose something simple to cook but still would follow a video (but he would never admit it) or would call the other members for advice. i also picture him coming to you more than one time showing you his progress, ALL of his progress. like: "i'm about to turn on the oven" or "here i put some salt now, does not it look delicious huh?" while u just stare at him nodding and just grateful to see how happy he looks while cooking for you. and while he waits for the food to cook in the oven, he starts to distract himself with humming some of his favorite rap songs. and he would only be able to stop after smelling the faint smell of burning invading the kitchen! "it's a little overcooked, but otherwise I'm sure it would have come out delicious." he would tell you proudly after putting something barely edible on your plate (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩)

prompts ; event m.list

i’m gonna crash out we need to end dann and mike i’m serious i’m going to throw a car at them or something, reader, hongjoong, get behind me

I’m not ready for the next chapter i can’t i need reader to be happy and i need them to be with hongjoong oh I’m sick

great chapter, I can’t wait for the next one <3

Popular, Boy

☆07: The first breakdown

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 9,8k

Summary: Humillation and disappointment from others always leave you more isolated than ever. The tension grows and unresolved emotions linger.

But unexpected plans could change everything in your little world.

Warnings: Cursing, verbal abuse, manipulation, just Mike being a bastard.

Note: This chapter has important info that will develop in the next chapter, just want to say that next chapter is more spicy than aespa's song!!!

Series masterlist

☆06 ☆08: The first lie

The grandeur of the Clarke Mansion is still evident in the moments before they leave. The staff bustle around, making sure every detail is in place, as you, your family, and Dann prepare to depart for the lavish event at the Ritz.

The golden light of the chandelier in the hallway spills out into the driveway as the sleek black cars pull up, their engines purring softly in the night air. The elegance of the mansion stands in stark contrast to the wild, pulsing energy of the celebration awaiting them—a night meant to showcase Mike’s latest achievement.

You walk down the grand staircase, a vision in your red dress. As you descend, every step is deliberate, measured, meant to captivate.

Your parents, who were already waiting near the entrance, can’t help but pause in admiration at the sight of their daughter.

But you are too preoccupied with the swirling thoughts in your head to fully bask in their praise. Your brother's harsh words still echo in your ears, but you've done everything you can to mask the weight of them.

Tonight, you need to be untouchable.

Your father approaches you, voice full of pride.

“You look stunning, darling. No one will be able to take their eyes off you tonight.”

“And you better make sure they don’t, sweetie.” Your mother in an elegant black dress says brushing a strand of your hair.

You force a smile, though your gaze flicks to Mike standing near the door. You know he’s already prepared for what he perceives as your inevitable fall tonight.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Maybe you should focus on not embarrassing yourself, YN. There’s no room for mistakes tonight.” He smirks.

You feel your pulse quicken, the familiar sting of his condescending tone cutting through you like a knife. But you don't respond. Not tonight. you've already made up your mind—you will be perfect, no matter what he says.

Dann, standing quietly in the background, watches everything unfold with a mix of disdain and curiosity. She can feel the heat radiating off you, and for the first time, she’s not sure if she envies you or resents you.

Still, there’s a part of her that doesn’t want to get swept up in the endless cycle of praise and punishment that seems to define your world. As the last person to make their way out the door, Dann glances at her mother, who gives her a sweet smile, waving her goodbye.

When the cars finally pull up to the Ritz, the atmosphere shifts entirely. The event is already in full swing, lights glittering, the hum of conversation and laughter spilling out into the cool night air. The building itself looks like a monument to luxury—tall, majestic, with every surface reflecting the opulence that the Clarke family holds dear.

Inside the car, your family sits in quiet anticipation. Your parents speak in hushed tones, planning their approach to tonight’s gathering, while Mike remains distant, his eyes fixed on the glowing windows of the Ritz.

As the car doors open, the flood of sounds from the celebration pours in—cascading music, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of life beyond the door.

You step out first, followed by Mike, parents, and Dann. They make their way up the steps to the grand entrance, where the doormen usher them in with professional smiles. Inside, everything is extravagant—gleaming chandeliers, velvet drapes, and golden accents everywhere.

It feels like a different world entirely.

You adjust your posture, and for a moment, you feel the weight of all eyes on you. This is your world, a place where you can thrive, even with Mike’s shadow looming over you.

As you step into the grand ballroom, the scent of roses and expensive perfume mixes with the faint aroma of hors d'oeuvres being passed around on silver trays.

The room is alive with conversation and laughter, the hum of wealth and power weaving through the air. You’re used to this—this is where you belong, where you’ve always shone. You adjust your dress, a subtle yet powerful statement of the season’s trends, and scan the room.

Your friends spot you almost immediately, their polished appearances as perfect as always. They weave through the crowd with ease, their heels clicking against the marble floor as they make their way toward you.

“Babe!” Mindy exclaims, her eyes sparkling “You look stunning, as always.”

“Of course she does,” Samantha chimes in with a sly grin “What else is new?”

You smile, a perfect blend of warmth and confidence “It’s all about keeping up appearances, isn’t it?”

Mindy’s gaze shifts past you, her brows arching in curiosity “Wait a second… Is that Dann?”

All turn, spotting Dann lingering awkwardly near one of the side tables. She’s holding a glass of sparkling water like it’s a lifeline, her lavender gown catching the light in a way that draws just enough attention.

“Oh my God, it is her. What’s she doing here?”

You shrug with a practiced air of indifference “Mother invited her. You know how she gets—always so kind and generous. She thought it would be nice to show some appreciation for Dann helping around the house.”

Mindy’s lips press into a thin line, and the others barely hide a snicker “Kind of her,” She says, her voice dripping with sarcasm “But seriously, babygirl, what were you thinking, letting her wear a dress from a collection from years ago? She looks ridiculous.”

You feign innocence, a soft laugh escaping your lips “Who am I to deny her a chance to feel special?”

Sam smirks “You’re a saint, baby. Truly. She really sticks out, doesn’t she? Like she doesn’t belong here.”

“That’s not my problem,” You reply smoothly, brushing off the comment with a flick of your hair “Mother wanted her here, and I’m doing my part. Whether or not she fits in is up to her.”

You glance across the room, your eyes narrowing as they settle on Seonghwa. He’s standing with his family, dressed impeccably as always, his confident smile lighting up the space around him.

For a brief moment, your polished demeanor falters. There’s a lot unsaid between the two of you—more than anyone in this room could ever guess.

After Wooyoung’s last party you haven't talked.

“Shall we mingle?” Someone asks, breaking your train of thought.

“Of course,” You reply, slipping your arm through Mindy’s “Let’s remind everyone who really runs this town.”

As you move through the crowd, your presence commanding attention as always, you can feel the weight of the evening settling in.

Tonight isn’t just about appearances—it’s about control, power, and making sure everyone, including Mike and Dann, knows exactly where they stand.

✮ ⋆

As the evening progresses, the hum of conversation and laughter fills the air, but Dann lingers near the edges of the room, keeping to herself. Her glass of sparkling water trembles slightly in her hand as she tries to blend into the background.

The soft lavender gown you gave her feels alien on her body, and she’s keenly aware of every glance sent her way.

What she doesn’t realize is that many of those glances are judgmental, the dress silently announcing her as out of place.

It doesn’t take long for Mindy and the other girls to leave you with your parents and notice Dann standing awkwardly by the refreshments table. They exchange a quick look, their eyes gleaming with amusement, and saunter over, their movements purposeful and predatory.

“Dann? Oh my god, hi.” Mindy says, her voice dripping with faux sweetness.

Dann startles slightly but nods, trying to smile “Um, hi.”

Samantha tilts her head, feigning curiosity “That’s such a… unique dress you’re wearing. Where did you find it? A vintage shop?”

Dann’s cheeks burn, but she forces herself to meet their gaze.

“Actually, YN gave it to me. She thought it would be appropriate for tonight.”

Their smiles widen, eyes sparkling with malicious delight.

“Oh, our babygirl always so generous. Did YN let you borrow it from her last season’s wardrobe? Or was she just trying to make you look like a charity case?"

"I mean, you must feel so lucky to be here with all these important people in such a... dated dress."

“Very retro, not something anyone else here could pull off, but good for you for trying.”

Dann’s grip tightens around her glass, her stomach twisting. She knows they’re mocking her, but she refuses to let them see her falter.

“Thank you,” She says evenly “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Mindy arches an eyebrow, clearly surprised by the response, but Sam isn’t done yet.

“It’s just so sweet of YN to give you something she wouldn’t wear anymore. Such a generous friend, don’t you think?”

Before Dann can respond, Seonghwa’s voice cuts through the conversation like a blade.

“Ladies, there you are. I’ve been looking for you.”

He appears at Dann’s side, his presence commanding, and tone light but with an edge that makes your friends instantly fall silent.

“Hwa,” Mindy says with a wide smile “We were just admiring YN’s generosity in lending Dann one of her dresses. So thoughtful of her.”

Seonghwa’s lips curve into a polite but icy smile “Of course,” He turns to Dann, his expression unreadable “Are you enjoying yourself?”

Dann hesitates, but nods “Yes, thank you.”

“Good.” His eyes flick to your friends, his smile never wavering “If you’ll excuse us, I promised to introduce Dann to some of my friends.”

All the girls exchange glances but step aside.

“Sure, have fun.”

Seonghwa grabs Dann’s arm and leads her away, his steps measured and graceful. Once they’re out of earshot, he leans in slightly, his voice low enough that only Dann can hear.

“Don’t let them get to you. They’re just bored.”

Dann glances at him, unsure whether to trust the sudden kindness.

“Thanks, I guess.”

Once they’re seated with a drink in hand, Hwa turns to Dann, his expression serious.

"So, how’s everything going with Mike? What’s the plan for tonight?"

Dann glances around nervously, making sure no one is listening.

"Mike told me to tell Hongjoong a fake address so that he wouldn’t come tonight... he wanted YN to be left alone, humiliated. He said he was going to make sure she felt small in front of everyone during his speech."

Seonghwa nods, pleased with the progress of the plan, but there’s a certain coldness in his smile.

"And you’re sure he’ll follow through? Mike doesn’t usually miss a chance to put YN in her place."

Dann sighs, her hands trembling slightly as she grips her glass.

"I don’t know if I can keep doing this... but he’s promised that tonight, it’ll all come together. YN will feel what it’s like to be cast aside."

Seonghwa watches her for a moment, assessing, before leaning back and taking a sip of his own drink.

"Good. Just remember, if you want to be part of this, you have to follow through. All of us are in this together now."

Dann nods, but the weight of her actions starts to sink in. She knows she’s in too deep to back out now, and yet the guilt gnaws at her.

As Seonghwa continues to chat with her about their plans, she can’t shake the uneasy feeling that the lines between revenge and her own humanity are beginning to blur.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong adjusted his cufflinks in the mirror, his expression thoughtful as he glanced at his reflection. The evening was meant to be a special one—an elegant celebration at the Ritz, an event where he would finally step into the world you navigate so effortlessly.

But something didn’t feel right. Why did your family decide to change the venue so suddenly?

Confused but trusting, Hongjoong went along with the information, believing it was just a miscommunication. He got ready, dressed in the suit you bought him, ready to experience a world beyond his usual scope.

But as he drove, the city fell behind him, the roads winding into quiet, unfamiliar countryside. There was no Ritz, just a few ordinary homes and farmland stretching into the distance.

Panic started to settle in his chest as his phone buzzed, showing no signal. He tried calling you, Dann, and even Wooyoung, but no calls went through.

The further he drove, the more he realized Dann had played a cruel trick—luring him away, leaving him isolated and alone.

Anger surged through him as he realized the intent. Dann had deliberately ensured he wouldn’t make it to the party, making you feel abandoned, unsure, and hurt.

His fists clenched around the steering wheel, frustration boiling to the surface. He needed to get to you, to make sure you knew it wasn’t his choice to stay away.

Desperate, he took a U-turn, his tires screeching slightly on the gravel as he headed back toward the city.

The night was dark, and the streets were eerily quiet as he raced toward the first address you had given him.

✮ ⋆

The party was in full swing, and you had slipped into your role effortlessly. Your laughter echoed through the room as you sipped champagne, your friends and guests hanging on your every word.

Mindy, Sam, Wooyoung, and a few others surrounded you, chatting about the latest gossip in the city, and the music played softly in the background, setting a festive mood.

You looked around the grand ballroom, admiring the luxurious décor, the chandeliers that sparkled overhead, and the gentle hum of conversation filling the air.

It was everything you had grown accustomed to—the perfect night of glamour, elegance, and being the center of attention.

But as the evening wore on, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in your chest. It was as though something was missing, and that something was Hongjoong.

You glance at your phone again, noting that the time is slipping away, and Hongjoong still hasn't arrived. The champagne, which had initially made you feel warm and confident, now seemed to weigh on you, making you restless.

“Where is little Hongjoong, babydoll?” Wooyoung asks you.

“Don't know, he should be here by now.”

“Maybe he doesn't know how to get here.”

“Maybe, let me call him.” You excused yourself from the group and wandered toward a quieter corner.

Your heels click softly on the marble floor. You unlock your phone and send a quick text to Joong.

YN♡: Joong, are you coming? It’s getting late.

You bite your lip, anxiously staring at the screen, waiting for a reply. But the familiar bubble showing that he is typing never appeared.

Frowning, you call him next, holding the phone to your ear as the ringing tone echoed in your eardrum. But when the call goes straight to voicemail, your anxiety deepens.

Where is he?

You make sure to include him in this world you live in, and now, you are starting to doubt if he’d actually show up.

There had been no signs of trouble earlier, but now the silence from Hongjoong’s end is unsettling.

You pace slowly, trying to calm your racing thoughts, but it's hard to ignore the tightness in your chest. You know you shouldn’t be worried—he might be caught up in traffic, or maybe something had come up—but deep down, a quiet voice is telling you it isn't that simple.

You text him again, hoping for any kind of response.

YN♡: Kim Hongjoong. Where are you?

Nothing.

The seconds stretch into what feels like minutes, and your stomach twists. You don’t like this feeling.

You don’t like being uncertain.

You don’t like being let down.

You return to the party but find yourself unable to focus on the conversations around you. Your gaze flickers back to your phone as the minutes tick by. Your thoughts keep drifting back to Hongjoong.

What is keeping him? Is he really on his way? Or has something happened?

You take a long sip of your champagne, trying to shake the unease, but it lingers.

You just wanted him here, wanted to be with him.

You force yourself to rejoin the party, plastering on a faint smile as you move through the crowd. Mindy and Wooyoung are still chatting nearby, but their laughter feels muffled, distant.

The sparkle of the chandeliers seems dimmer now, the glamour of the evening dulled by the absence of the one person you were hoping to share it with.

“Sweetie, there you are,” Your mother’s voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. “Mike’s about to give his speech. Come, stand near the front.”

You nod, following her to the center of the ballroom, where Mike is standing on a small stage. The guests quiet down as he takes the microphone, his charismatic smile commanding attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” He begins, his voice smooth and confident “First, thank you all for being here tonight. It means the world to me to celebrate this milestone with my family and our closest friends. As most of you know, I’ve recently been entrusted with a significant position in our family business, and I am honored to take on this responsibility.”

The crowd applauds, a few cheers breaking out. Mike raises a hand, his grin widening.

“I want to take a moment to express my gratitude for the opportunity to step into this role and carry the legacy of the Clarke family forward. My parents have worked tirelessly to get me here, and I will do everything in my power to uphold the values of this company. It’s an honor to follow in the footsteps of my father and grandfather.”

A round of applause erupted, and you force a smile, applauding with the crowd, even though a sense of dread fills your chest.

You can already feel where this is going.

“But before I move forward,” He continues, his voice gaining an edge of sarcasm “I have to acknowledge someone who’s always been there for me, even if she doesn’t always realize how much of a burden she’s been.”

His eyes flick to you, and for a moment, the entire room seems to pause.

Your heart skips a beat. You try to keep your composure, but there is an unsettling feeling settling deep in your stomach.

You force yourself to stand tall, but the quiet murmur of the crowd around you makes you feel exposed, like a target under a spotlight.

“As my sister, YN has been… well, how should I say this… a distraction,” Mike says, his voice dripping with mock affection “She’s been more focused on parties and… friendships than actual responsibility. And I think it’s time she learns that life isn’t all about being the center of attention.”

You feel your cheeks burn, the words piercing through you like ice. You can feel the eyes of the guests on you, the weight of their silent judgment. You try to maintain your composure, but the sting of Mike’s words make you feel small.

Like you don’t belong here.

Like you are nothing more than a plaything in the shadow of your perfect, golden brother.

Mike’s gaze never wavers from yours as he delivers the final blow.

“Maybe one day, she’ll realize that success isn’t about what you can get from people, but about what you can give back. I can only hope that she grows up soon enough.”

A few uncomfortable chuckles rip through the crowd, and your chest tightens. The blood rushes to your ears, and for a brief moment, you feel like you can’t breathe.

You look around, trying to find someone’s gaze—anyone who might offer you some comfort—but they all seem to look away, as if they have already accepted Mike’s harsh truth.

Your father is smiling, nodding as if it’s all just a joke. Your mother is watching you with a mixture of concern and hurt.

But you feel entirely alone.

The crowd clap hesitantly, you manage to give a tight smile, though it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders.

You stand still, trying not to let the tears welling in your eyes break free.

You have no idea where Hongjoong is—if he is even coming—but right now, you need him more than ever.

You need someone who sees you for who you truly are, not the image that Mike and everyone else had constructed for you.

“Excuse me,” You murmur to no one in particular, slipping away from the crowd.

✮ ⋆

The party had begun to mellow out after Mike’s speech, the guests turning their attention to the endless flow of wine and hors d’oeuvres. In one of the quieter corners of the room, Dann sat alone, her champagne glass untouched on the small table before her.

She fiddled with the hem of her dress, her eyes flickering toward the laughter and conversation swirling around her.

Mike, ever the picture of confidence, approached her with a sly grin, his glass of scotch in hand.

“Well, Dann,” He says smoothly, sliding into the chair beside her. “How much did you enjoy YN’s little… public humbling?”

Dann hesitates, caught off guard by the directness of the question. But then, her lips curl into a faint smirk.

“I can’t say it wasn’t satisfying,” She replies, her tone measured but laced with an undercurrent of bitterness.

He chuckles darkly “I thought you’d appreciate it. After all, you’ve had a front-row seat to her antics, haven’t you?”

She shrugs, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass “I’m around her every day, every hour. I see more than anyone else does.”

Mike’s brows lift, his curiosity piqued “Really? And where is our dear YN now? Have you seen her?”

Dann’s eyes darted toward the balcony doors “Probably outside, drinking, smoking, who knows.”

Mike leans forward, his voice dropping slightly “Smoking?”

“Yeah,” Dann replies casually “She does it often. You wouldn’t notice, but I do. She hides it well.”

He studies her for a moment, as if trying to gauge the truth in her words. Then, with a smirk, he straightens up.

“Interesting. Well, I suppose I should go check on her, make sure she hasn’t set anything on fire in her dramatics.”

Dann let out a small laugh, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. She watches as Mike rose and headed toward the garden doors, his steps purposeful and unhurried.

✮ ⋆

The garden is quiet, the cool night air wrapping around you as you step outside. The soft glow of the party lights spills onto the garden, but you move further into the shadows, needing to be alone.

You clutch your champagne flute tightly, the glass cold against your palm. Your chest feels heavy, the weight of Mike’s words pressing down on you.

Why does he always do this? Why can’t he just let you be?

You take a deep breath, the crisp air biting at your lungs, and tilt your head back to look at the stars. They’re beautiful, distant, and unattainable—just like the life you’ve always wanted.

Your hands shake slightly as you sip champagne, the liquid sloshing around in the crystal flute as you bring it to your lips. You don’t care if that is already your fifth glass.

You need something to numb the ache in your chest, something to drown out the sting of Mike’s words.

You fumble for a cigarette, pulling one from the pack with a trembling hand. The sweet strawberry scent fills the air as you lit it, inhaling deeply as the smoke curls around you like a shield. It doesn’t help.

The words he’d said—how you aren’t good enough, how you would never live up to his expectations—replays in your mind over and over.

You try to focus on the cool air, the quiet of the garden, but the ache in your heart doesn't go away. You felt completely exposed out here, the vulnerability that had crept in from Mike’s public humiliation gnawing at your insides.

You didn’t care that you were smoking in a garden meant for guests, you didn’t care about anything at all right now.

How long have you been out here? An hour? Two? You don’t even know anymore. Your head is fuzzy from the alcohol and the smoke, and all you want is for someone to make it stop.

But no one is coming.

Your phone buzzes in your purse, but you don’t bother looking at it. It can be anyone—your parents, Mindy, maybe even Seonghwa.

But the person you truly want to hear from is nowhere to be found.

The door to the garden creaks open behind you, the sound sharp and jarring. You flinch, not needing to turn around to know who it is.

The anger in the footsteps, the unmistakable tension in the air—it could only be Mike.

“YN.” His voice cuts through the night like a blade.

You take another drag from the cigarette, your back stiffening.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to stop acting like an embarrassment!” His words are sharp, accusing “What the fuck are you doing out here, smoking and drinking like some common—”

You whip around to face him, your own anger rising like a tide.

“I don’t need you to lecture me, Mike.”

“Clearly, you need someone to remind you of your place,” He shoots back, his tone venomous “You’re out here, embarrassing the family, and you don’t even care.”

Your lips curl into a bitter smile, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the cigarette.

“You’ve made it clear enough how you feel about me. Why don’t you just get lost and leave me the fuck alone?”

Your voice is raw, but your words are sharp and final.

Mike’s jaw clenches, his anger bubbling over. Before you can react, he steps forward, his hand lashing out and landing across your cheek with a sickening crack.

You gasp, your head snapping to the side from the force of the slap.

For a moment, everything goes still. The sting spreads across your face, your vision blurring, but it isn’t just the slap—it’s the realization that he didn't change during these years and his knack of hitting you when he's upset is still there.

That he can hurt you again, in front of everyone, and no one would stop him.

Your lip splits, the taste of blood mixing with the bitterness in your mouth. Your eyes fill with tears, but you blink them back, refusing to show weakness.

“You'll always be the same, right?” Your voice trembles with the weight of the words.

Mike’s chest heaves with anger, but you don't care. You aren't afraid of him anymore. His cruelty has pushed you to the edge for too long, and now, something inside you snaps.

But as much as you want to say more, to lash out at him for everything he has ever done, your throat tightens. You swallow the lump in your throat, clenching your fists at your sides.

“Get back inside, YN,” He sneers, turning on his heel “You’re making this family look pathetic.”

You stay silent, watching him walk away, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the empty garden. You sink back onto the bench, hands trembling.

You hadn’t expected him to hit you again—but it doesn’t matter. Nothing about this night matters anymore.

What is left for you? Where is Hongjoong?

As you sit there, all you can feel is the weight of his slap and the suffocating silence of the garden.

✮ ⋆

The mansion looms in the distance as you step out of the car, the cold air biting at your skin through your thin dress. The chauffeur doesn’t say a word, and you don’t acknowledge him.

You didn’t say goodbye to anyone at the party—didn’t even care if anyone noticed you slipping out.

You push open the front door, the familiar creak echoing in the grand, empty hall. The house is silent, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and some maids doing errands.

It’s late, but a light glows faintly from the far side of the room. Dann’s mother is there, cleaning up, as she often does late into the night.

She looks up as you enter, her expression softening into concern the moment she sees you.

“Miss YN?” She says, her voice cautious yet kind “What happened to your lip?”

You touch your fingers to your mouth, wincing slightly at the sting of the torn skin. The dried blood cracks under your touch, but you force a small, dismissive smile.

“It’s nothing,” You say, your voice hoarse and detached.

She frowns, setting the dish towel down “It doesn’t look like nothing. Are you sure you’re alright?”

You nod, unwilling to engage any further “I’m fine. Goodnight.”

Without waiting for a reply, you make your way upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time you reach your room, the weight of the night is unbearable.

You close the door behind you, leaning against it for a moment before letting out a shaky breath.

The room is exactly as you left it—immaculate, pristine, and entirely too cold. You slip out of your dress, trading the suffocating fabric for a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized hoodie.

Crawling into bed, you stare at the ceiling, the events of the night playing over and over in your mind.

Mike’s humiliating speech, the slap that still burns on your cheek, and the conspicuous absence of Hongjoong.

Hongjoong.

You held onto the hope that he would show up, that he’d swoop in and make everything feel bearable, but he didn’t. Not a call, not a message. Just silence.

Your chest tightens, and your throat feels raw as the urge to cry threatens to consume you.

But you don’t. You won’t.

You clench your jaw, swallowing hard against the lump that’s risen in your throat. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them away furiously, refusing to let them fall.

Crying feels like defeat, like letting Mike, Hongjoong, and everyone else see how much they’ve gotten to you.

You curl up on your side, staring blankly at the wall. The ache in your chest is suffocating, but you press your lips together, forcing yourself to stay composed.

Mike’s words echo in your ears—his sneer, his disdain. And the silence from Hongjoong—the boy who is supposed to be on your side, who is supposed to see you, really see you—is deafening.

But you won’t cry. You won’t give them that power.

You take a shaky breath and close your eyes, trying to block it all out. The humiliation, the loneliness, the betrayal—they’re all too much, but you won’t let them break you.

You are a Clarke. And YN Clarke doesn’t cry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong bursts into the venue, his heart pounding from the frantic drive. The event is still lively, guests milling about in elegant attire, but his eyes scan the room for one person only—you.

He pulls out his phone, scrolling to your name, his thumb hovering over the call button. With a shaky breath, he presses it, raising the phone to his ear as he moves through the crowd.

“Come on, pretty. Pick up.” He mutters under his breath.

The line doesn’t even ring—it goes straight to voicemail. His stomach sinks, and a fresh wave of panic washes over him. He tries texting instead:

Joongie♡: YN, I’m so sorry. I’m here now. Where are you? Please let me explain.

He hits send and watches the message sit undelivered, the grey checkmark mocking him.

“Damn it,” He hisses, running a hand through his hair.

“Hongjoong?”

A familiar voice cuts through the din. He turns to see your mother standing a few feet away, her brows knitted together in mild surprise.

“Mrs. Clarke,” He says, relief flooding his tone as he quickly approaches her “Have you seen YN? I’ve been trying to find her.”

Her expression softens, though there’s a trace of sadness in her eyes. She sighs, folding her arms across her chest.

“I haven’t seen her in a while. She might’ve left already.”

Hongjoong’s face falls “Left? Why would she leave?”

Mrs. Clarke hesitates, clearly choosing her words carefully.

“You know how these events can be… overwhelming. Sometimes, she just needs space.”

His heart twists. He can sense there’s more she isn’t saying, but he doesn’t press her. Instead, he nods, his mind racing with worry.

“Did she… say anything before she left? Did she seem okay?”

Her lips press into a thin line, and she glances away briefly “She didn’t say much. But…” She pauses, then shakes her head “I think it’s best if you talk to her yourself. Maybe she is at home.”

Hongjoong nods again, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“Thank you. I’ll find her.”

The elegant woman gives him a small, almost apologetic smile before stepping away, leaving Hongjoong standing amidst the glitz and glamour of the party.

The lights feel too bright, the laughter too sharp. He dials your number again, and when it goes straight to voicemail, his frustration bubbles over.

“Pretty, please, call me back,” He says into the phone, his voice strained “I need to talk to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. Please, just… let me know you’re okay.”

He hangs up, his chest heaving. Every second that passes feels like an eternity. He starts pacing, determined, Hongjoong sets off toward the exit, hoping against hope that he’s not too late to make things right.

After a twenty minute drive, Hongjoong pulls up to your house, his heart pounding as he steps out of the car. The sprawling mansion looms in the moonlight, its grandeur only amplifying his anxiety.

He jogs up the stone steps and rings the doorbell, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

After a moment, the door creaks open, and a maid greets him. Her expression brightens slightly when she recognizes him.

“Oh, Mr. Hongjoong, you’re a friend of Miss YN, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” He says, his voice laced with urgency “Is she home?”

The maid hesitates, then nods “I think she is in her room now, come in.”

Hongjoong exhales, his chest tightening “Thank you.”

He makes his way through the elegant hallways, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floors.

When he reaches your door, he finds it closed. He pauses, then knocks softly.

“YN? It’s me, Hongjoong,” He says, his voice trembling slightly “I… I need to talk to you. Please.”

There’s no response.

He knocks again, this time with more urgency “YN, I’m so sorry. I need you to know what happened. Please, just give me a chance to explain.”

Inside, you sit on the edge of your bed, your knees pulled up to your chest. You can hear every word he’s saying, the emotion in his voice tugging at your heart.

But you don’t move, your resolve firm. You can’t face him right now—not like this.

Hongjoong presses his forehead against the door, his fists clenching at his sides.

“I was tricked,” He says, his voice breaking “Dann… she gave me the wrong address. I thought I was going to the party, but it was all a lie. By the time I realized it was too late. I’m so sorry, YN. I didn’t mean to let you down.”

Still, you remain silent, staring at the door with a mix of anger, sadness, and exhaustion.

You want to believe him—you really do—but the weight of the evening keeps you rooted in place.

Hongjoong leans back, running a hand through his hair “I hate that I wasn’t there for you,” He continues “I know tonight was important to you, and I messed it up. But please, pretty… I care about you. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Your heart aches at his words, but you can’t bring yourself to respond. Maybe it’s the humiliation still fresh in your mind or the sting of feeling abandoned when you needed him most.

Either way, you decide to stay quiet.

After a long silence, he sighs heavily “I get it, you don’t want to talk to me right now. That’s okay. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”

He lingers by the door for a moment longer, as if hoping for a miracle. When none comes, he finally steps away, his footsteps retreating down the hallway.

Inside, you exhale shakily, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. You feel torn, caught between your desire to open the door and the overwhelming need to protect yourself.

Maybe when you feel better—when the pain isn’t so raw—you can talk to him.

But for now, you stay where you are, letting the quiet of the room envelop you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days pass in a haze. You keep to your room, the curtains drawn and the world shut out. You don’t want to face anyone—Mike, your parents, your friends, and especially Hongjoong.

The humiliation from the party still lingers like a wound that refuses to heal, and you can’t bear the thought of their pity or judgment.

Your mother knocks on the door each morning, her voice soft and tentative, but you always feign a cough or complain of feeling unwell. It works, for now.

They let you stay hidden away, though you know it’s only a matter of time before they stop accepting your excuses.

By Wednesday, the isolation is starting to feel suffocating, but you still can’t bring yourself to leave.

The knock on your door comes earlier than usual, followed by your mother’s voice.

“Sweetie, it’s me. Can I come in?”

You hesitate, considering pretending to be asleep, but before you can answer, the door creaks open. She steps in, her expression a mixture of worry and sadness as she closes the door behind her.

She sits on the edge of your bed, smoothing the blanket with her manicured hands.

“You’ve been in here for days,” She says gently “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine,” You murmur, your voice hoarse “I just need some rest.”

She reaches out, brushing your hair “You don’t have to pretend with me, YN. I know how hard that night must have been for you.”

Her words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you feel your resolve waver.

But instead of breaking down, you pull the blanket tighter around yourself.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She nods, her gaze softening “That’s okay. But I need you to know that… I’m here for you. No matter what.” You don’t respond, your eyes fixed on the wall. After a moment, she sighs and leans forward, kissing your forehead “I’ll let you rest. Just… don’t shut yourself off completely, okay?”

Later that evening, another knock sounds at your door. This time, it’s your father.

He doesn’t wait for permission before entering, holding a small black box in his hand.

“Darling,” He says, his tone unusually bright “I thought you could use a little pick-me-up.”

You glance at him warily as he places the box on the bed beside you.

“What is it?”

“Open it and see,” He says, his smile strained.

You sit up slowly, pulling the box closer. Inside, nestled on a velvet cushion, is a sleek key fob. Your breath catches as you recognize the emblem—your father’s favorite luxury brand.

“A car?” You ask, looking up at him.

He nods, his smile faltering slightly “It’s parked in the driveway. I thought… after everything, you deserve something special.”

You stare at the key, a mix of emotions swirling inside you.

This isn’t the first time he’s done this—tried to smooth over their failures with expensive gifts. When you were a child, it was toys, then clothes, then trips abroad.

Now, it’s cars.

“Thanks,” You say quietly, your fingers curling around the key.

Your father seems to relax at your response, as if the gesture has absolved him of guilt.

“Take your time, darling. Whenever you’re ready, we can go for a drive.”

You nod, watching as he leaves the room. The door clicks shut behind him, and you’re alone again.

You stare at the key in your hand, the weight of it heavier than it should be. It’s a beautiful gift, but it doesn’t fill the emptiness inside you.

It doesn’t erase the memory of Mike’s words or the ache of feeling like you’re always second best.

You set the key down on your nightstand and lie back against the pillows, closing your eyes. Maybe tomorrow, you’ll feel strong enough to face the world.

But for now, you stay cocooned in your room, the only place where you feel safe.

✮ ⋆

The next morning, you wake up before your alarm, determination burning in your chest. You’ve spent days locked away, hidden from the world, but that ends today.

No one at school knows what really happened that night, and you intend to keep it that way. As far as they’re concerned, you were just under the weather.

Also, after four days, you decide to turn on your phone, which immediately fills up with notifications of missed messages and calls. You decide to take a moment to review it.

10 missed calls from Mindy.

7 missed calls from Brat Woo.

2 missed calls from Hwa.

1 missed call from Mingi.

28 missed calls from Joongie.

486 unread messages.

You don't want to read so many messages, so you prefer to shut it down and start to get ready for the day.

You pull open your closet door and scan through the racks of designer clothes.

After a few moments, you settle on a pearl-white blouse that hugs your frame perfectly, paired with a plaid mini-skirt that shows off your legs, and your favorite jimmy choo’s high heels complete the look, adding the perfect touch of glamour.

Your makeup is flawless, of course. You conceal every imperfection, erasing any hint of the chaos you’ve endured.

The faint scab on your lip vanishes beneath a carefully chosen red lipstick, and the flush of blush gives your cheeks a healthy, radiant glow.

The girl staring back at you in the mirror looks exactly as she should: untouchable, effortless, and every bit the queen bee.

Outside, your new car gleams under the morning sun, a symbol of your parent’s guilt and their way of fixing everything with a price tag.

You don’t care. Today, it’s a weapon, and you know exactly how to use it.

The engine purrs as you pull into the school parking lot, catching everyone’s attention. Heads turn, conversations falter, and by the time you step out, all eyes are on you.

You move with purpose, your heels clicking against the pavement as you stride toward the entrance.

You can feel the weight of their stares, hear the murmurs of curiosity.

“Is that YN’s new car?”

“Didn’t she call in sick for the past few days?”

“She looks gorgeous!”

You smirk inwardly, keeping your expression neutral. Let them wonder. Let them speculate.

None of it matters.

Inside, your friends are waiting near your locker, their faces lighting up as they spot you.

“Babe! You’re back!” Mindy exclaims, her voice tinged with relief “We were so worried about you!”

“What happened? Are you feeling better?” Another friend chimes in.

You shrug casually, opening your locker as if this is just another normal day.

“I’m fine. Just needed a few days to recover from the flu. Nothing serious.”

Mindy’s eyes flicker to your car keys, which you’re holding deliberately in your hand.

“And the car? Is that new?”

You flash her a small smile, dangling the keys for emphasis “A little gift from my parents. They thought I deserved a pick-me-up.”

The group erupts into compliments, fawning over your car and your outfit. It’s almost too easy to redirect their attention.

But as you glance around, your gaze lands on Hongjoong in the distance entering the library.

Maybe it’s time to talk with him about that night, he owes you an apology.

“I see you in class, girls.”

Without waiting for a response, you make your way to the library.

The library is quiet, the faint rustle of pages and soft whispers creating a cocoon of calm. You scan the room until your eyes land on Hongjoong, sitting at a table with a few of his friends.

He looks up just as you approach, his face shifting between surprise and relief.

“YN,” He starts, rising from his seat, “I—”

“Save it for later, Hongjoong,” You cut him off sharply, your tone leaving no room for argument “We need to talk about what you said that night.”

He hesitates, glancing awkwardly at his friends, but your unwavering stare makes him nod and follow you to a secluded corner of the library.

Once you’re alone, you cross your arms, your eyes narrowing.

“Why didn’t you show up at the party? I waited for you for almost three hours, Joong.”

“I know, I know, pretty,” He says immediately, reaching out to steady your waist, his tone pleading “But like I told you that night, Dann tricked me—”

You cut him off again with a scoff, pulling back “Dann? You promised me you wouldn’t talk to her again.”

“And I didn’t start the conversation!” He protests, frustration creeping into his voice “She approached me that day at the mall.”

“What?” You blink, momentarily thrown off. The situation sounds ridiculous, almost laughable.

“That day, I was shopping, and out of nowhere, Dann appeared, asking what I was doing there. When I mentioned the party—” He pauses, sighing heavily as his hand rakes through his hair, “She told me the venue had changed and said she’d send me the new address. I thought it was odd, but when she mentioned your mom inviting her, I believed it.”

Your jaw tightens “And then?”

“I drove to the address she gave me,” He continues, his voice dropping with guilt “It was in the middle of nowhere. No signal, no way to contact you or anyone else. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. I rushed back to the Ritz and then to your house as soon as I could, but…”

You’re silent for a moment, processing his words. None of it makes sense.

Dann, sweet, shy, unassuming Dann, pulling off a plan like this? The thought feels absurd.

Then again, you remind yourself, people aren’t always what they seem.

“And why did you trust her? Why didn’t you call me after she told you that?” You press, your tone sharper now.

Hongjoong’s hands tighten briefly around your waist before he mutters.

“She said maybe you were busy and forgot to tell me. I... I trusted her because she was my friend.” His voice is barely above a whisper, the admission dripping with shame.

“Oh my god, Joongie.” You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head “I thought you were smart. But I understand. She was your friend, and you didn’t think she’d trick you like that.”

He bites his lip, clearly embarrassed, but when you reach out to cup his cheeks, lifting his gaze to yours, he softens.

“Now you owe me an apology,” You murmur, your lips brushing his lightly “You left me all alone.”

He smiles at your pout, a playful glint in his eyes “I know. What about dinner after school?”

You shake your head, frowning “I want another kind of apology. You know what I mean, Kim Hongjoong.”

And of course, he knows. But he can’t resist teasing you, just a little.

“We can’t do anything indecent here, pretty,” He murmurs, his hands slipping lower to rest on your hips as he pulls you closer “I don’t want to get us in trouble.”

You roll your eyes but let the moment linger for a breath longer before stepping back, a plan already forming in your mind.

“Fine,” You say, straightening your posture and fixing him with a determined look “But this isn’t over. And speaking of people owing me, I’m going to have a little chat with Dann. She has some explaining to do.”

Hongjoong stiffens, his playful demeanor vanishing “YN—maybe you should let it go. You know how Dann is. She’ll twist things, make it worse.”

“Not this time.” Your voice is steady, cold “She went too far, and I’m not letting her get away with it. If she wants to play games, I’ll show her how it’s done.”

He watches as you stride out of the library, determination radiating from every step.

He knows better than to argue when you’re like this, but even he can’t help the twinge of unease at the thought of what’s coming next.

✮ ⋆

The final bell rings, and students rush to leave the school. The hallways are alive with chatter, but you remain by your locker, surrounded by her entourage—Mindy, Wooyoung, Samantha, and a few others. Hongjoong lingers close by, his face a mixture of anticipation and tension.

As the crowd thins, you spot Dann walking down the hall, clutching her books, her head low as if trying to make herself invisible.

Your lips curl into a sharp smile, eyes glinting with cold determination.

“Dann!” You call out, voice slicing through the noise like a whip.

Dann freezes, her face draining of color. Slowly, she turns, her eyes wide as they meet yours.

It's been days since that day at the party and she’s been so nervous about you finding out what she did.

You saunter toward her, your friends following closely, their presence an unspoken threat.

“YN, I have to—” Dann begins, but you cut her off.

“Don’t even try, Dann. I’m not in the mood for your pathetic excuses.” You step closer, your gaze narrowing “I just have one question for you: What made you think you could lie to Hongjoong and me and get away with it?”

Dann swallows hard, glancing at the others, who are watching her like predators sizing up their prey.

“What—”

“Oh, don’t give me that!” You snap, throwing her hands up dramatically “You know what you did that day.” Dann’s panic builds, and her breath catches in her lungs for a moment “You didn’t mean to send Joongie to some random, deserted place? You didn’t mean to ruin my night?”

Dann’s grip tightens on her books “I wasn’t trying to—”

“You weren’t trying to what?” You interrupt, voice dripping with mockery “You weren’t trying to sabotage me? You’re such a bad liar, Dann.”

Mindy smirks, chiming in “I mean, seriously, Dann. Did you really think you could pull this off? You’re so… gullible.”

“And desperate,” Wooyoung adds with a chuckle, earning a snicker from the others.

You cross your arms, your expression one of feigned hurt.

“You know, I even gave you that dress for the party. That expensive designer dress. Because I thought, ‘Hey, maybe Dann deserves a chance to feel special for once.’” You pause “Guess I was wrong.”

Dann’s eyes well up with tears, but she shakes her head, trying to muster a defense.

“YN, I didn’t mean to ruin anything. I just—”

“Just what?” Your voice rises, drawing the attention of a small crowd of lingering students. “Just decided to be so dumb and submissive that you’d believe anything someone told you? Or are you working with someone?”

The accusation hangs in the air, and Dann’s lips part as if to respond, but she quickly closes them, her silence speaking volumes.

To everyone's surprise; Hongjoong steps forward, his jaw tight.

“You know what, Dann? I can’t believe I trusted you. You used to be my friend. I thought you were better than this.”

Dann flinches at his words, her composure slipping further.

“Joong, I…” Dann looks down, her tears threatening to spill over.

You smirk, stepping closer until you’re towering over Dann.

“Did you want me to be mad at him?”

Dann’s face flushes with humiliation, and she shakes her head vehemently.

“No! That’s not what I—”

“Save it, you’re pathetic, Dann. And you’re not just a liar—you’re a bad one. Honestly, I doubt you came up with this plan on your own. Someone must’ve put you up to it. Who was it?”

“Maybe it was Seonghwa, I saw them talking at the party.” Mindy snaps with a grin “Right, Dann?”

Dann remains silent, her lips trembling as she clutches her books tighter. She won't say a word about it, and you frown at the mention of Seonghwa’s name.

Seonghwa talking with her, What the fuck?

“No answer?” You laugh bitterly “I see, you’re too scared to even admit it. Well, let me give you some advice: Stay out of my way. You’re not in my league, Dann. You never were, and never will.”

Wooyoung steps forward again with a grin “You owe YN and Hongjoong an apology.”

“A real one. Not that half-hearted excuse you tried earlier.” Sam adds.

Dann’s tears finally spill over, and she whispers “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

You roll her eyes, turning to your friends.

“Let’s go. I’m done wasting my time on her.”

As they walk away, you glance over your shoulder one last time, lips curling into a satisfied smirk.

“Oh, and Dann? Don’t ever think about messing with me again. Next time, you won’t get off so easily.”

The crowd disperses, leaving Dann standing alone, her face streaked with tears. Behind her trembling exterior, a flicker of something else—anger or determination—takes root.

✮ ⋆

Dann steps are heavy, her hands trembling slightly as she clutches her bag. Tears still cling to her lashes, but her face is set in a grim determination.

The humiliation at school burns fresh in her mind, your cutting words replaying over and over like a cruel mantra.

By the time she reaches the front door of Clrarke’s mansion, her shame has transformed into anger—a searing, all-consuming fury.

She pushes open the heavy doors without hesitation, her steps echoing through the grand foyer.

There is Mike, sitting comfortably reading something.

“Mike.” She says, her voice firm despite the lump in her throat.

Mike looks at her, his expression cool and calculating as always. He closes the book, his sharp eyes scanning her face.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his lips curling into a smirk “You look like hell. Let me guess—Queen YN had her fun at your expense?”

Dann glares at him, dropping her bag onto the floor.

“She humiliated me again. In front of everyone.”

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “That’s her style. Did you expect a thank-you card for all your hard work?”

“I expected her to be human for once,” Dann snaps, her voice trembling with emotion “But she’s not. She’s a monster. And I’m done being her punching bag.”

Mike’s smirk widens, a glint of approval in his eyes “Finally. I was starting to wonder if you’d ever grow a backbone.”

Dann takes a deep breath, forcing herself to steady “You were right. About everything. YN needs to be taken down. For good.”

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued “And you’re ready to do what it takes?”

“Yes,” Dann says without hesitation, her fists clenching at her sides “I want to destroy her. Her reputation, her relationships, her entire world—I want it all gone.”

Mike stands up, and walks directly in front of her “Now you’re speaking my language. But do you have a plan, or are you just here to vent?”

Dann lifts her chin, meeting his gaze with newfound determination.

“I thought you might have some ideas. You’re the one who’s been watching her for years, waiting for her to slip up.”

“I do have a few ideas. But if we’re going to do this, we’ll need to be smart. YN’s not stupid—she’ll see a direct attack coming from a mile away.”

Dann nods, her anger simmering just below the surface.

“So what do we do?”

Mike gestures for her to follow him, leading her to a luxurious sitting room where he pours himself a drink.

He takes a slow sip before speaking.

“We chip away at her. Little by little. She’s built this image of perfection and control, but all it takes is one crack for the whole thing to shatter.” He leans against the bar, his eyes gleaming with malice “We start with Hongjoong. Make YN doubt his intentions.”

Dann swallows, the weight of his words settling over her.

“How do we do that?”

Mike swirls his drink lazily, watching Dann with a satisfied smirk.

"Simple," He says "We make her think the one person she trusts most is betraying her."

Dann frowns, confused "Hongjoong? But he’s loyal to her."

He chuckles, shaking his head "Loyalty is fragile. YN’s world is built on power and control—she doesn’t trust anyone completely. If we plant the right seeds, she’ll start questioning even him."

Dann crosses her arms "How? He barely even talks to anyone outside of their little circle."

Mike leans forward, his voice lowering conspiratorially.

"I’m pretty sure that after that nerd missed the party, he will apologize to her, right? Maybe this time he will fuck her as an apology.” He smiles, his words full of venom.

Dann shifts uncomfortably at Mike’s crude words, but she doesn’t argue. He’s right—Hongjoong will go crawling back to you, desperate to make it up to you.

He’s like a lost puppy when it comes to you, willing to do anything to stay by your side.

Mike watches her reaction carefully, then smirks “And when that happens, we’ll act.”

Dann furrows her brows “What do you mean?”

He sets his glass down with a soft clink, straightening up.

“I’ll tell you later, now go.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of uncertainty passing over her face, but she does what he ordered. She turned around and left the room.

Whatever Mike is planning must be good.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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☆○☆○☆○

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

wow, a chapter where reader’s life isn’t going horrible. This is going great, but we still gotta kill mike that man is public enemy #1 I don’t care how he can blow up in space or die to a snail touching and i’ll be happy.

amazing chapter, excited to see what comes next <3

Popular, Boy

☆12: The first warning.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 10k

Summary: Stepping back to your world and reclaiming your place with confidence and Hongjoong by your side, feeling that everything is better.

But some loyalties are bound by fear rather than choice.

Warnings: Cursing, manipulation, power dynamics, fluff.

Series masterlist Join the Taglist

☆11 ☆13: The first bliss. Coming soon

The sharp click of your heels echoes through the quiet hallway as you make your way toward your father’s office. The Clarke mansion is always pristine, always silent in places where it shouldn’t be.

It’s suffocating.

You pause outside the heavy wooden door, exhaling before knocking twice.

“Come in.”

You push the door open, stepping inside. Your father is at his desk, flipping through documents, while your mother sits on one of the velvet chairs across from him, sipping tea as if she has no real business here.

Both of them glance up at you, but it’s your mother who smiles first.

“Well, this is a surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure, darling?”

Your father doesn’t say anything. He just watches, waiting. You clear your throat, keeping your tone even.

“I need a favor.”

Your mother’s eyes gleam with interest “A favor? That’s rare.” She sets her teacup down gently. “What is it?”

You don’t hesitate “It’s about Hongjoong.”

At that, your father raises a brow, finally giving you his full attention. Your mother, on the other hand, practically lights up.

“Oh, Hongjoong! I was beginning to think you weren’t talking to him anymore after—” She pauses, tilting her head, eyes sharp. “After that day.”

You knew this was coming. Of course she’d ask.Your fingers tighten slightly at your sides, but your voice remains composed.

“It was a misunderstanding. Everything’s fine between us now.”

Your mother hums in approval, looking far too pleased. “I knew you wouldn’t throw away something special over a little argument.”

Your father clears his throat, his tone clipped “If this is about that boy, get to the point.”

You nod “It’s not about him, exactly. It’s about his father.”

Both your parents exchange a glance.

You continue, “His father lost his job recently, and their family is struggling. I wanted to know if you could offer him something here. A driver, security—anything.”

Your mother leans back slightly, considering. “His father lost his job?” A small frown tugs at her lips, but it isn’t one of disapproval—it’s concern. “That’s terrible.”

Your father leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “What does he do?”

“He was a chauffeur,” You answer. “For a private company, but they let him go.”

Your father exhales, glancing down at the papers on his desk as if debating whether this conversation is worth his time.

“A driver, huh?”

Your mother places a hand on his arm, smiling “Well, we do need another personal driver, don’t we?”

Your father gives her a pointed look, but you know him. He isn’t against the idea—he’s just pretending to be.

“It wouldn’t be a bad thing,” The woman continues, smoothing out a nonexistent wrinkle on her dress. “The boy is respectful, intelligent. If he’s anything like his son, I’m sure his father would be a good addition.”

Your father exhales through his nose before looking at you “You really want this?”

“Yes.”

A long pause. Then—

“Fine.”

Your mother claps her hands together lightly “Wonderful.” She turns back to you, a knowing smile on her lips. “Tell Hongjoong his father can start next week.”

Relief washes over you, but you keep your expression composed. You lean against the edge of your father’s desk, tilting your head just slightly, letting your voice soften into that sweet, spoiled tone you know they can’t resist.

“Thank you, Daddy,” You say, drawing out the last word just enough to sound affectionate, not excessive.

Your father exhales, shaking his head as if he’s already regretting agreeing to this. But you don’t miss the way the tension in his shoulders loosens. He likes it when you act like his perfect little girl—like you adore him.

Your mother watches the interaction with amusement, sipping her tea. “You should’ve just started with that, sweetheart. You know your father can’t say no to you when you ask nicely.”

Your father gives her a flat look “That’s not true.”

“Oh, please.” She waves a delicate hand in the air. “You’ve been wrapped around her little finger since she could talk.”

You flash a smug little smile, but before you can say anything, your mother’s expression brightens.

“Oh! That reminds me.” She sets her teacup down and turns to you expectantly. “You should invite Hongjoong over for dinner one day.”

Your father grunts “What?”

Your mother raises an eyebrow “What, what? I like him. He’s polite, intelligent, and much better company than some of your other friends.” She pauses, pressing a manicured finger to her lips in thought. “And he’s quite handsome, isn’t he?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Okay, calm down.”

She chuckles “I’m just saying, I want to see him again. And this time, without all the party noise.”

Your father mutters under his breath, flipping a page in his documents “I still don’t like the idea of my daughter wasting time with some scholarship kid.”

You pout dramatically, leaning toward him “But, Daddy,” You drawl, “I like him.”

He sighs, rubbing his temple “I swear, you only do this to torture me.”

You smile sweetly “That’s not true! I only do it when I want something.”

Your mother laughs, shaking her head “So? Will you invite him?”

You shrug, pushing off the desk “I’ll think about it.”

But you both know you’ll do it.

As you turn to leave, your mother calls after you, “And tell him I said hello!”

You wave a hand without looking back, already dreading Hongjoong’s reaction when you tell him.

Because if he agrees to dinner, you just know your mother is going to love embarrassing you.

✮ ⋆

Hongjoong opens the door, eyebrows raising slightly when he sees you standing on his porch, dressed effortlessly chic like you don’t belong in this neighborhood.

It’s not the first time you’ve been here, but it’s rare enough that the sight of you standing outside his house still feels surreal.

"Pretty?" He leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a hint of amusement playing at his lips. "Did I forget we had a date or something?"

You roll your eyes, stepping past him like you own the place "Please, nerd. If we had a date, you’d be waiting for me."

He huffs a laugh, closing the door behind you "So, what’s up?"

You spin on your heel, hands clasped in front of you like you’re about to drop the biggest news of the century.

"Well, I just came back from a very interesting conversation with my parents." He tenses slightly at the mention of them, but he doesn’t interrupt. "And guess what?" You tilt your head, smiling. "Your dad just got a job."

Hongjoong blinks "What?"

Before you can answer, his mother’s voice comes from the kitchen "Joong, who’s at the—" She pauses as she steps into the living room, eyes widening when she sees you. "Oh! YN, dear!"

You smile "Hi, Mrs. Kim."

His father enters the room next, looking surprised but polite "It’s nice to see you again, YN."

"You too, Mr. Kim," You reply warmly. "Actually, I came to tell you something." You glance at Hongjoong, then back to his father. "My dad just hired you as a personal driver."

A beat of silence. Then the woman clasps her hands together, eyes shining. "Oh, that’s wonderful news!" She turns to her husband, already fussing. "You see? Everything is working out. I told you things would get better."

The man, though visibly relieved, remains composed "This… this is really unexpected," He says carefully, looking at you. "Your father doesn’t know me, so why would he—"

"It was my idea," You cut in. "I told them about your situation, and they agreed."

Hongjoong’s parents exchange a glance, something unspoken passing between them. Gratitude. Maybe even a little disbelief.

Hongjoong stays quiet beside you, his eyes unreadable.

His mother sighs, then smiles at you warmly "YN, that was really kind of you."

You shrug, like it’s nothing, like you don’t actually care as much as you do "It’s the least I could do."

Mrs. Kim beams "Well, in that case, you must stay for dinner."

"Oh, I—"

"No buts," She says, already ushering you toward the dining table. "It’s our way of saying thank you."

You glance at Hongjoong, who just smirks, as if to say you brought this on yourself.

Fine. You’ll stay.

✮ ⋆

Dinner is surprisingly… nice. Warm. Unlike the silent, performative meals at the Clarke mansion, this table is filled with actual conversation.

Hongjoong’s father asks about school, his mother tells stories from work, and Hongjoong—well, he mostly watches you.

And under the table, his hand finds your thigh. You stiffen slightly at the unexpected touch, but when you glance at him, he’s focused on his plate like nothing’s happening.

His fingers, however, trace slow, lazy patterns against your skin, just under the hem of your skirt.

You shift slightly, your breath catching, but you don’t move his hand. His thumb presses lightly, and your nails dig into your fork.

Mrs. Kim suddenly laughs at something her husband says, then turns to you with a knowing look.

"YN, dear," She starts, voice full of something—something playful, something amused. "How long have you and my son been together?"

You nearly choke on your drink, Hongjoong finally looks up, biting back a smile.

"Excuse me?" You ask, feigning innocence.

His father smirks, shaking his head "You two think we don’t notice?" He nods toward his son. "You’ve been staring at her all night."

Hongjoong shrugs, far too casual "Can you blame me?"

You shoot him a look.

His mother giggles "And he’s been holding your hand under the table for the last ten minutes."

Oh.

You didn’t even realize. Somewhere between his teasing and the conversation, his hand had slipped into yours, fingers lazily intertwined.

Again, Hongjoong just smirks.

You clear your throat, quickly pulling your hand away "Anyway," You say, trying to steer the conversation anywhere else.

But his mother just hums, giving you both a knowing smile "Ah, young love."

Hongjoong leans in slightly, voice low enough for only you to hear "We could make it official, you know."

You gasp, eyes widening as you slap his arm lightly. "Hongjoong!"

His parents laugh at the interaction, clearly entertained, while Hongjoong just grins, absolutely unbothered.

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, pretty,” He teases, rubbing his arm dramatically like you actually hurt him.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the warmth creeping up your neck. Idiot.

After dinner, Mrs. Kim insists on making tea, despite Hongjoong’s grumbles that ‘YN probably only drinks champagne, Mom.’ You roll your eyes but accept the tea anyway, sitting at the kitchen counter as his parents clear the table.

Hongjoong stands beside you, arms crossed, leaning slightly against the counter. He’s relaxed, comfortable in his home, but his eyes flicker toward you every few seconds.

You tap your nails against your mug “Your mom likes me.”

He snorts “Understatement. She’s already planning our wedding.”

You scoff, taking a sip of tea “I’d be a great addition to your family, let’s be honest.”

He tilts his head, considering “You do have expensive taste. My mom would love the gifts you’d bring her.”

You nudge him with your elbow “Oh, shut up.”

He grins, but before he can say something else, his mother calls from the living room. “Joong, come help your father with something!”

Hongjoong exhales through his nose, standing up straight “Be right back.” He pauses before heading off, leaning down just slightly so only you can hear. “Don’t miss me too much, pretty.”

You roll your eyes, but he catches the way your lips twitch.

Once he’s gone, you’re left in the quiet of the kitchen, staring down at your tea. It’s strange being here. The warmth, the ease—nothing like the cold, calculated world you come from.

And you hate how much you like it.

A few minutes later, you’re checking your phone when you feel it—gentle fingers trailing down your back. You shiver, looking up just as Hongjoong settles behind you, his presence warm, solid.

“They’re in the living room,” He murmurs. “We have a few minutes alone.”

You raise an eyebrow “And?”

“And…” He steps closer, his hand resting lightly against your hip. “I want to be with you without my mom watching like she’s this close to planning our honeymoon.”

You smirk, but before you can retort, he dips down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the side of your neck.

Your breath catches. His lips ghost over your skin, slow, deliberate. His hands find your waist, fingers tightening ever so slightly.

You’re still sitting on the stool, and he’s standing between your legs, close enough that you can feel his warmth against you.

“Joong—”

“Shhh,” He murmurs, placing another kiss just beneath your jaw. “I just like being near you.”

Your heart stutters. For all the teasing, all the flirting, this moment is different. It’s soft. Unrushed. His fingers brush over the fabric of your skirt, trailing lazily along your thigh like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

You don’t stop him. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, giving him more access.

He hums in approval, lips brushing your pulse before finally pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are dark, but there’s something else in them—something real.

His thumb traces circles against your hip “You should come over more.”

You exhale a quiet laugh “Your mom would love that.”

“She would,” He agrees, smirking. “And maybe I would too.”

Your fingers find the collar of his sweater, tugging him closer until your lips are almost touching.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then he kisses you.

It’s slow, deliberate, nothing rushed or messy. Just the warmth of his lips, the way his fingers tighten against you, the quiet hum that vibrates against your mouth.

He’s holding back, you can tell. And maybe you like that.

Maybe you like all of it.

But before things can go any further, the sound of someone clearing their throat shatters the moment.

You both freeze.

Slowly, you turn your head—only to see Mrs. Kim standing in the doorway, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised.

Hongjoong immediately steps back, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Uh...”

She sighs, shaking her head “At least take her out on a proper date first, Kim Hongjoongl.”

You burst out laughing, while Hongjoong groans, burying his face in his hands.

✮ ⋆

After that awkward situation in the kitchen, you and Hongjoong make your way to his room, excusing yourselves with a vague, ‘We have things to do.’ His parents exchange a glance but don’t argue. If anything, they look downright amused.

His room is cleaner than you expected. Bookshelves filled with everything from fantasy novels to thick textbooks line the walls, and his desk is cluttered but organized.

As he digs through his drawers for fresh clothes, you skim over his bookshelf, fingers brushing over the spines until one catches your eye.

You plop onto his bed, flipping through the pages, completely lost in the book.

Then, the bathroom door clicks open.

You glance up—and immediately freeze.

Hongjoong stands in the doorway, fresh from the shower, steam still curling around him. His damp hair clings slightly to his forehead, droplets of water trailing down the sharp planes of his chest.

And the only thing he’s wearing? A towel.

Low on his hips.

Your throat runs dry.

He doesn’t notice at first—he’s too busy running a hand through his hair, sighing like he’s still processing everything that happened tonight. But then he looks at you, noticing your wide eyes, the way your fingers have frozen over the page.

His lips curve “Oh?” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Something wrong, pretty?”

You snap the book shut. Hard.

“Why are you standing there like that?” You demand, clearing your throat, pretending that nothing about this is affecting you.

Hongjoong shrugs “It’s my room. Didn’t know I needed to be fully dressed to exist in it.”

You glare at him “You’re doing this on purpose.”

He tilts his head, looking far too pleased with himself “Doing what on purpose?”

Your jaw clenches. Fine. Two can play this game.

You set the book aside and stretch, tilting your head slightly, letting your gaze slowly trail down his torso.

Hongjoong’s smirk falters just a little. Then, as if completely unfazed, you lean back against his pillows, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“You know,” You say, feigning nonchalance, “For a nerd, you’re in surprisingly good shape.”

He blinks. Then—he laughs, shaking his head “Oh, that’s rich coming from you.”

You raise an eyebrow “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” He steps closer, eyes darkening slightly, “That you are the biggest tease I’ve ever met.”

He’s right in front of you now, way too close, the scent of his shampoo still fresh. You can see the water droplets clinging to his collarbone, sliding down his skin, disappearing beneath the towel.

Your stomach flutters “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You say, voice way too even.

Hongjoong hums, unconvinced. And then his fingers graze your knee. You jolt slightly, but before you can react, he slides his hand up, slow, teasing. Over your thigh, pushing your skirt up just barely, his fingertips ghosting over sensitive skin.

Your breath hitches.

He leans in, voice low, taunting “Tell me, pretty…” His lips hover near your ear. “If I am doing this on purpose… is it working?”

Your pulse pounds.

God, you hate him. But you also don’t.

And maybe that’s the real problem.

Before you can make the very reckless decision to grab him by the towel and end his teasing yourself, Hongjoong grins—the cockiest grin you’ve ever seen—and pulls away completely, stepping back toward his dresser like nothing just happened.

“I should get dressed,” He muses, voice far too casual. “We have places to be, remember?”

You stare at him. He’s so lucky you like him.

You exhale sharply, crossing your arms as he rummages through his drawer “You are the most annoying person I know.”

He tosses a shirt over his head, grinning “And yet, here you are.”

You throw a pillow at him.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Fifteen minutes later, you arrive at the café, the glow from the streetlights casting long shadows through the clear glass windows. Your steps slow as your eyes land on her.

Jina.

She’s behind the counter, casually wiping a glass, completely unaware of what’s coming.

Your lips press into a thin line, irritation bubbling to the surface.

Hongjoong notices immediately, chuckling under his breath as he reaches out, fingers tilting your chin so your eyes meet his instead.

"Stop frowning, pretty. You’ll get wrinkles."

You scoff “Joong, that slut tried to mess with me and you. Don’t expect me to act all nice and sweet around her.”

His lips twitch with amusement, but instead of scolding you, he leans down and presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your lips.

"It’s okay, pretty. But please don’t punch her, or I’ll never bring you to a café again."

You roll your eyes “Whatever.”

Hongjoong sighs but laces his fingers through yours, leading you toward the entrance. The bell above the door jingles softly as you step inside, the warm scent of coffee and vanilla lingering in the air.

The second Jina hears the sound, she turns, already slipping into her customer-service smile.

"Welcome to—"

Her voice dies in her throat the moment she sees you.

You, standing next to him.

You, holding his hand like nothing had happened between you two.

A flicker of something—shock, unease—crosses her face before she quickly schools her expression.

Still, you catch it.

The hesitation.

The way she stiffens ever so slightly under your gaze.

She swallows, clearing her throat "Welcome to Café Aurora. How can I help you?"

Hongjoong doesn’t respond. Neither do you. Instead, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a neatly folded envelope, placing it on the counter.

"It’s my resignation. Thank Mr. Choi on my behalf."

Jina flinches slightly at the soft thud of the envelope hitting the polished wood.

"What?" Her voice comes out quieter than she intends.

He doesn’t repeat himself. He simply watches her, expression unreadable. A heavy silence settles between the three of you, thick with tension.

Then, he speaks again—his tone even, but firm.

"Before we go, I want to ask you something, Jina." She tenses. "Where do you know Park Seonghwa from?"

For the first time, true panic flashes across her face.

Her breath catches. Her fingers tighten around the rag she’s holding, knuckles turning white.

You don’t miss the way her eyes flick toward you—just for a second—before she quickly looks away, pretending to focus on something across the room.

Like she’s debating whether or not to lie.

Like she’s wondering if you remember.

Your own brows furrow slightly. Why would she—And then it hits you.

The familiarity in her gaze. The way she seems to know you, not just Hongjoong.

You narrow your eyes “Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?”

Jina’s jaw tightens, lips pressing into a firm line.

Hongjoong shifts slightly beside you, glancing between the two of you “Wait. You know her?”

You blink, memories stirring in the back of your mind, hazy but persistent. You have seen her before.

Not here.

Not as Hongjoong’s coworker.

But years ago.

At Seonghwa’s house.

Your stomach drops, realization crashes into you like a tidal wave. Jina wasn’t just some random girl working at this café.

She worked for Seonghwa’s family.

She had been there. During the years you “dated” Hwa, when you spent countless afternoons at his house. And yet, back then, you never really noticed her.

She was just another staff member, someone in the background, someone who blended into the luxury of the Park estate.

But the way Jina looks at you now—Like she remembers everything.

Like she knows exactly who you are.

Your throat tightens, and Hongjoong notices the change in your expression immediately.

“YN?”

Jina exhales slowly, fingers still gripping the rag in her hands. Then—finally—she speaks. "So, you really don’t remember, huh?"

You meet her gaze, heart pounding “Remember what?”

Jina lets out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking her head “Figures.” She leans forward slightly, lowering her voice. “You used to be in his house all the time, but you never even looked at me, did you?”

Your fingers curl into fists “What the hell are you talking about?”

Jina tilts her head, eyes glinting “You really don’t know, do you?”

Hongjoong stiffens beside you “Know what?”

She pauses, studying you both.

"Are you sure Seonghwa wanted something serious with you back then?"

A sharp, hollow ache settles in your chest, the weight of Jina’s words pressing into you like a slow, creeping poison.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Your voice is sharp, but there’s something beneath it—something raw.

Jina smirks, tapping her fingers against the counter, eyes flickering between you and Hongjoong.

“I mean exactly what I said. Are you sure Seonghwa ever really saw you as his?”

Hongjoong shifts beside you, his presence grounding you, but your pulse is hammering against your ribs.

“You’re lying.”

Jina raises a brow, clearly amused “Am I?”

Your jaw clenches. You want to ignore this. You want to roll your eyes, turn around, and walk out like none of this matters. Like he doesn’t matter. Like your past with Hwa was just that—past.

But something inside you twists.

You had liked him—really liked him. Back then, you had convinced yourself that the games you played with him meant something, that the tension, the lingering glances, the way he acted like you were the only girl in the room was real.

But if Jina’s words were true—if he had never really meant it, if you were just one of many—then what the hell had all of it been for?

Your stomach churns. Hongjoong, silent until now, finally steps in, his voice firm, protective.

“YN, we don’t have to listen to this.”

But you can’t move. You can’t breathe. Because the memories are flashing—the nights you waited for Seonghwa to call, the excuses he made, the moments that never quite added up.

Jina watches you, her smirk deepening “There it is.”

You snap your gaze back to hers, eyes burning “What do you want? Huh? What’s your goal here?”

Jina leans back, feigning innocence “I don’t want anything. I just think you deserve to know what kind of man Seonghwa really is.”

It shouldn’t hurt. Not anymore.

You have Hongjoong.

Hongjoong, who would never play with your feelings like that. Hongjoong, who looks at you like you’re the only girl in the world.

And suddenly, that’s enough.

The pain dulls.

You exhale, letting go of the sharp, bitter sting in your chest. You turn to him, and when your eyes meet, the warmth there is undeniable.

You have everything you need.

Seonghwa is just a name from your past. A mistake.

You look back at Jina, but this time, your lips curve—not into a smirk, not into anger, but into indifference.

“You know what, Jina?” You say smoothly, voice steady. “I don’t care.”

Jina blinks, her smirk faltering for the first time.

You step closer, tilting your head “You really thought this would break me?” A soft chuckle leaves your lips. “That’s pathetic.”

And with that, you turn to Hongjoong, grabbing his hand as you lace your fingers through his. His grip tightens, reassuring.

Without another word, you pull him toward the exit, leaving Jina behind.

Because for the first time, you realize—you’ve already won.

✮ ⋆

The low hum of the car engine fills the silence between you and Hongjoong as he drives through the dimly lit streets.

The city blurs past, neon lights reflecting against the windshield, but your mind is somewhere else—stuck in the past.

Hongjoong doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his eyes flicking toward you every few seconds, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel.

He can sense it—the shift in your mood, the way your shoulders are tense, the distant look in your eyes.

“You’re quiet,” He finally says, voice softer than usual.

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you sigh, shifting slightly in your seat.

“I’m just… thinking.”

Hongjoong hums in acknowledgment, giving you space to find the words. You exhale sharply, pressing your forehead against the window for a moment before turning to him.

“Did I ever tell you that I really liked Seonghwa?”

Hongjoong’s fingers twitch around the wheel, but he keeps his expression neutral.

“No, but I assumed it for the way you two used to act.” He says carefully.

A bitter chuckle leaves your lips “Well, I did. Or at least, I thought I did.” You shake your head, scoffing at yourself. “I was so sure that what we had was real. That if I played hard to get long enough, he’d actually make a move.”

He doesn’t interrupt, just listens.

Your fingers tighten into your lap “And now, to find out that he was screwing around with Jina the entire time…” You trail off, clenching your jaw. “I was an idiot.”

Hongjoong exhales, reaching over to take your hand in his. His thumb strokes slow, soothing circles against your skin.

“You weren’t an idiot,” He murmurs. “You just believed in someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Your chest tightens. You glance down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch spreading through you, grounding you.

He continues, his voice gentle but firm “Seoghwa never deserved you. And if he had even half a brain, he would’ve known that.”

You look at him then, your lips parting slightly. There’s no jealousy in his voice. No smugness. Just certainty. Like he’s always known your worth—even when you didn’t.

For the first time since leaving the café, the ache in your chest softens.

You squeeze his hand “Thank you, Joongie.” You say quietly.

Hongjoong offers you a small smile before focusing back on the road.

“Are you going to confront him?” He asks.

You nod, your gaze sharpening “Oh, absolutely. He owes me an apology, and he’s going to give it.”

He chuckles “Remind me never to piss you off.”

You smirk, feeling lighter than before “Oh, you already did. You’re just lucky I forgave you.”

By the time you pull into the long driveway of your mansion, the tension between you and Hongjoong has shifted into something else entirely.

Something heavier.

The moment the car stops, silence settles between you—thick, charged.

Hongjoong shifts in his seat, eyes flickering to yours, dark and hungry “You’re staring,” He murmurs.

Your lips curl into a slow smirk “So are you.”

He swallows hard. You know what he’s thinking. You feel it—the weight of weeks spent apart, of lingering touches that never went far enough, of all the things left unsaid.

And now, alone in the dim glow of the car, it finally snaps.

You reach for him first, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie as you pull him in. Your lips crash against his, and the moment they do, he groans—low, needy, like he’s been starving for this.

Hongjoong kisses you like he’s making up for lost time—desperate, reckless, his hands sliding up your waist, gripping you tighter than he should.

You don’t care, you want it—want him.

A soft moan escapes you when his fingers slip beneath your dress, skimming along your thighs, his touch scorching against your skin.

“Fuck,” He breathes against your lips, his forehead pressing against yours, his breath ragged. “We should—go inside.”

You smirk, trailing your fingers down his chest, feeling his heartbeat hammer beneath your palm.

“You sure you can wait that long?”

His jaw clenches, his hands tightening around you, and before you know it, he’s pulling you into his lap, his seat pushed back just enough.

The moment you straddle him, he loses it.

His hands roam greedily, his lips devour yours, his breath hitching every time you grind against him.

But then—

The sudden flash of headlights approaching the driveway snaps you both back to reality.

You jolt, your eyes widening “Shit.”

Hongjoong curses, gripping your waist as you scramble off him, both of you breathless, flushed, aching. You adjust your skirt, and Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

“You’re a menace,” He mutters, voice hoarse.

You grin, fixing your lipstick in the rearview mirror “And you love it.”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head “Yeah. I do.”

The moment you step out of the car, smoothing your dress and pretending you weren’t just grinding on your nerdy boy, you hear the hum of an approaching engine.

Hongjoong, still catching his breath, freezes beside you. His hair is a mess, his hoodie slightly disheveled—he looks guilty as hell. You turn your head just in time to see the sleek black car pulling into the driveway.

Your parents’ car, your heart drops.

He exhales sharply “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

You barely have time to compose yourself before the car door swings open and your mother steps out first, graceful as ever. Your father follows, adjusting his cufflinks, both completely unaware of what they just interrupted.

Yet.

“Sweetie!” Your mother’s voice is warm, delighted. “What a surprise to see you home early.”

Hongjoong tenses beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, looking like a kid caught sneaking out past curfew.

You, on the other hand, recover instantly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and flashing a perfectly practiced smile.

“Hi.” You greet smoothly, stepping forward like nothing is out of the ordinary. “Didn’t expect you two back so soon. How was dinner?”

Your father eyes Hongjoong for a second longer than necessary before answering.

“Productive,” He says, his tone measured. “We met with investors—secured another deal.”

“Oh, how lovely.” You nod, your voice syrupy sweet, desperately hoping they won’t notice the faint smudge of lipstick on Hongjoong’s jaw.

But your mother’s sharp gaze flickers between the two of you, taking in every detail. The way Hongjoong won’t meet her eyes, the slight flush on his face, the way your dress looks just a little more wrinkled than before.

Then—realization dawns.

Her lips twitch “Oh, honey,” She hums, amused. “We didn’t… interrupt anything, did we?”

Hongjoong chokes. Actually chokes.

You blink, keeping your expression perfectly neutral “Of course not,” You lie effortlessly.

Your mother tilts her head, clearly not believing a single word.

Your father sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Darling, be discreet,” He mutters. “If you must do… this”—he waves a vague hand between you and Hongjoong—“At least have the decency to do it inside the house.”

Hongjoong turns bright red. his glasses covering the way his eyes shut with embarrassment.

You grin, looping your arm through his “Of course, Daddy. We’ll be very discreet.”

Your father groans. Your mother, meanwhile, just smirks, shaking her head.

“Hongjoong, dear,” She says smoothly, “Why don’t you come inside for a drink before you go?”

Hongjoong, still recovering, nods stiffly “Uh. Yeah. Sure.”

You pat his chest, whispering, “Relax, nerd. My mom likes you.”

He mutters under his breath “That’s not the one I’m worried about.”

And with that, you lead him inside—your parents following close behind, and your mother still very much amused.

The warmth of the mansion greets you as you step inside, but the atmosphere is anything but comfortable for Hongjoong.

Your mother glides in effortlessly, a small knowing smile still lingering on her lips, while your father sighs heavily, already loosening his tie like he doesn’t want to deal with this tonight.

Hongjoong, on the other hand?

He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly as the four of you step into the lounge, where the dim glow of the chandelier casts soft shadows across the room.

Your mother gestures toward the leather sofas “Sit, sit,” She says, her voice almost teasing.

He hesitates. You don’t.

Dragging him along with you, you plop down elegantly on one of the couches, crossing your legs, exuding nothing but confidence. Hongjoong, stiff as a board, lowers himself beside you—looking very out of place.

Your father pours himself a drink, running a tired hand through his hair before turning to him.

“Whiskey?” He asks.

Hongjoong blinks “Uh—no, sir. I’m good.”

Your mother hums, sitting gracefully across from you both “You don’t have to be so formal, Hongjoong. We already know you and YN are… close.”

He shifts uncomfortably “Right.”

You smirk, tapping your fingers against your knee “You don’t have to traumatize him, Mom.”

Your mother chuckles, tilting her head “I think it’s adorable. You’re the first boy YN has ever brought home in a serious way.”

Hongjoong freezes.

Your father scoffs “Serious?” He sips his drink, unimpressed. “This is the same girl who threw a designer shoe at my head when I suggested she attend a dinner instead of going out with friends.”

Your mother ignores him “Hongjoong, sweetheart, how is your family?”

He blinks, snapping out of his existential crisis “Oh—uh, good. My dad had his first day today. Thank you again for the opportunity, Mr. Clarke.”

Your father nods, dismissive “He did well.”

Your mother, however, smiles warmly “It was YN’s idea.”

Mike turns to you. “I know,” he says softly. “I still don’t know how to thank you.”

You shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You don’t have to.”

But your mother? She notices everything—the way Hongjoong looks at you, the way your fingers twitch like you’re stopping yourself from reaching for his hand, the way he makes you soft.

Her smile deepens “Well,” She hums, placing her glass down. “Since we’re all so comfortable, why don’t you join us for dinner sometime soon, Hongjoong?”

He stiffens, you grin. Your father sighs, already regretting everything.

Hongjoong clears his throat “That’s… really generous, Mrs. Clarke.”

“Oh, please,” She waves him off. “Call me Catherine.”

Hongjoong visibly swallows “That’s… really generous, Catherine.”

Your father nearly chokes on his drink, you snicker under your breath.

Your mother just beams “Perfect. I’ll set something up soon.”

He nods, and just when he thinks the interrogation is over your mother’s eyes flicker between the two of you, her smirk returning.

“So,” She leans forward slightly, voice dangerously amused. “Where exactly were you two before we arrived?”

Hongjoong stops breathing.

Your father sighs into his whiskey “Jesus Christ, Catherine.”

You, completely unbothered, just smirk “Nowhere interesting.”

Your mother laughs, sipping her wine.

Hongjoong? He’s never been more stressed in his life.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The school hallways are alive with chatter as you step through the entrance, the silence parting for you like the sea parting for royalty.

It’s been three weeks since you last walked these halls. Three long weeks, spent hiding in the shadows of your own house, nursing wounds both physical and emotional.

But today, you're back.

Your heels click against the floor with each confident step, and you feel the eyes of the students on you—some of them staring in awe, some in jealousy, and others in pure admiration.

Whispers ripple through the crowd as you walk past them, and you can’t help but smirk. You know what they’re saying.

The Queen Bee has returned.

You walk with your head held high, shoulders squared, and a smile that borders on smug. Your friends are all there, surrounding you like the loyal subjects they are. Mindy and Wooyoung are by your side, smiling at the attention you're getting, the flashes of admiration in their eyes mirroring your own.

But even as you drink in the attention, there’s something in the air that you can’t ignore. The familiar pressure of someone’s gaze—the feeling of eyes on you from across the room.

You know who it is before you even see him.

Seonghwa.

You turn your head, catching sight of him standing near his locker, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watches you approach. He straightens as you get closer, the friendly expression in his eyes barely masking the sharpness beneath.

"Sweetheart," He says, his voice smooth, warm, and filled with an almost brotherly concern. "Where have you been? Haven't seen you around for a while. Everything okay?"

You smile, perfectly poised, the kind of smile that looks warm but never quite reaches your eyes.

“Seonghwa,” You greet, stopping just short of where he stands. “How sweet of you to notice.”

He chuckles, leaning against his locker with the kind of casual arrogance that once made your stomach flutter.

Now? It makes you sick.

“Of course I noticed,” He says smoothly, eyes flickering over your face, your stance—always analyzing, always calculating. “Three weeks is a long time to go without seeing you.”

Mindy and Wooyoung exchange glances behind you, but they say nothing. They know better than to interrupt.

You tilt your head, feigning curiosity “Did you miss me?”

Hwa smirks, and there it is—that infuriating, cocky confidence, the belief that you’ll always fall into his hands, just like you used to.

“I think the better question is,” He steps closer, voice lowering, “Did you miss me?”

You laugh, the sound light and dismissive, like the very thought is entertaining.

“Hwa,” You purr, tapping a manicured nail against your chin, “I’ve had… so much to think about these past few weeks.” Your gaze drags over him, slow, assessing—letting him think he still has a chance. “You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve learned.”

His smirk falters for half a second, but you see it.

You see everything.

You step closer, close enough that only he can hear you when you murmur, “You and I have so much to catch up on.”

Seonghwa studies you, trying to gauge if you’re being playful or if there’s something more dangerous beneath your words.

You don’t let him figure it out.

Instead, you brush past him, letting your perfume linger in the air between you, a lingering reminder that you are no longer the fool who once loved him blindly.

Mindy falls into step beside you, waiting until you’re out of earshot before whispering, “That was fucking terrifying.”

Wooyoung just whistles “Damn, babydoll. He’s gonna suffer.”

You smile.

He has no idea.

✮ ⋆

The cafeteria is alive with energy, students laughing, chatting, living in their own little worlds. But at your table? The air is thick, heavy with tension, the kind that turns heads and makes people pay attention.

You sit at your usual spot, sipping your drink as Mindy and Wooyoung throw teasing comments back and forth.

Across from you, San and Mingi lounge comfortably, more entertained than anything as Seonghwa takes his seat, acting as if he owns the space.

And he might have before.

Before he started working against you. Before he thought he could outplay you. Before you learned the truth.

Seonghwa leans forward, flashing you a smirk, his presence demanding your attention "So, baby—"

“Hey, pretty.”

The entire table shifts, your smirk grows before you even turn to look. Because you already know who that voice belongs to.

Hongjoong.

He slides into the seat beside you like he’s been doing it for years, like this is exactly where he belongs. And then—he does it. He leans in, presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips, his hand resting against your thigh like it’s his right.

Seonghwa goes still.

Mindy bites her lip to keep from grinning. Wooyoung? He’s barely containing a laugh.

San and Mingi glance at each other, picking up on something dangerous.

But Seonghwa?

He’s frozen, staring at you and Hongjoong like the world just tilted off its axis.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” His voice is low, tight with something uglier than frustration.

You tilt your head, eyes dancing with amusement “Something wrong?”

Hwa’s jaw clenches “I thought…” He stops himself, recalculating, but the damage is already done. You see it in his eyes.

He thought he still had a chance.

And now? He doesn’t.

Hongjoong doesn’t even glance at him. He just shrugs, completely at ease “I think he thought we weren’t on good terms, pretty.”

Seonghwa’s eyes snap to him, burning with fury.

You smirk.

“Oh, Hwa,” Mindy sighs dramatically, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “You should’ve kept up with the gossip.”

Seonghwa stares at you, as if waiting for some kind of explanation, some confirmation that this is all a joke.

But you don’t give him one. Instead, you lean into Hongjoong’s touch, fingers grazing over his wrist in an intimate, deliberate move.

The weight of his glare is suffocating, burning into you and Hongjoong, but neither of you react. You just smile, the picture of ease, while Hongjoong—calm, collected, unbothered—takes a sip of his drink like this is just another normal day.

San and Mingi exchange a look, sensing the storm brewing, but Wooyoung and Mindy? They’re thriving in the chaos.

Seonghwa finally speaks, his voice tight, controlled, but just barely.

“So, what? You two just—got back together?” His fingers drum against the table, a nervous tick he can’t quite suppress.

You lean back, feigning surprise “Why wouldn’t we?”

His eyes darken, his lips part like he’s about to argue, but he stops himself. He’s realizing things, piecing together all the lies he swallowed as truth.

Mindy hums, propping her chin on her hand “Did you really think they broke up, Hwa?”

Seonghwa doesn’t look at her. He looks at you and you hold his gaze, refusing to be the first to break. He hated that about you—how you never wavered, never bent to his will.

His tongue clicks, irritation flashing across his face “It’s just funny, that’s all.” His smirk returns, but it’s weaker now, forced. “Considering the rumors.”

You feign innocence “Rumors?”

He leans in, dropping his voice so only you can hear “That this nerd was using you.”

Hongjoong tenses beside you.

You grin, slow and deliberate “Oh, that.”

Hwa’s smirk twitches. You place a hand on Hongjoong’s thigh, casual, effortless—a claim.

“If that were true,” You murmur, “Do you really think I’d still be with him?”

Seonghwa hates the way Hongjoong doesn’t even have to say anything. Hates the way you’re looking at him like he’s the one who’s pathetic.

His jaw tightens, and for a brief second, you can see it—the fury, the frustration, the realization that he played himself.

And then—he laughs. Shakes his head, leaning back, drumming his fingers on the table again, pretending this doesn’t bother him.

“Guess not,” He mutters, eyes flicking toward Wooyoung and Mindy. “Guess someone’s been feeding me bullshit.”

Mindy gasps dramatically, placing a hand on her chest “Oh no, Hwa. Were you misled?”

Wooyoung grins, wrapping an arm around her “Damn, man. That’s rough.”

Hwa’s eyes narrow. He knows.

He knows they set him up.

And when he looks at you one last time, you don’t have to say it out loud.

You played the game better.

And he lost.

For the first time, he has no control.

For the first time, you won.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The final bell rings, signaling the end of another school day. Students spill into the hallways, laughter and chatter filling the air as everyone heads off to do whatever rich, privileged, private-school kids do after class.

You glance at Hongjoong as you walk beside him, nudging his arm lightly.

“So, what’s the plan, nerd? Are you free?”

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “Actually… Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang need me for something in the library.”

“You’re ditching me to do nerd things?”

He chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets “Not ditching. I did say you could come.”

You stop walking, turning to him with a slow, dramatic smirk “You want me to do nerd stuff… with your nerd friends… nerd?”

Hongjoong grins “Basically.”

You scoff, crossing your arms “I should say no on principle.”

“But you won’t,” He counters easily, smug.

You narrow your eyes at him, then sigh in exaggerated defeat “Fine. I’ll grace you all with my presence. But if I get bored, I’m leaving.”

Hongjoong nudges your waist playfully “You won’t.”

You roll your eyes but let him lead the way.

The library is quiet, dimly lit by the late afternoon sun filtering through the tall, arched windows. Shelves of books stretch high, the scent of old paper and wood polish lingering in the air.

At a far table, three familiar faces sit, already setting up their things—Yunho, Jongho, and Yeosang. You and Hongjoong approach, and Yunho looks up first, his face brightening in surprise.

“Oh, hey, man. You actually brought her?”

Jongho smirks “I thought she’d be too busy shopping or making people cry.”

Hongjoong shrugs “She wanted to come.”

You snort, sliding into a chair “Let’s not lie to ourselves, Kim.”

Yeosang laughs, shaking his head before glancing toward the bookshelves “We should probably get started. Dann’s already here.”

“Wait—Dann’s here?” The moment Hongjoong says it, you stiffen too.

You turn your head slowly—too slowly—until your gaze locks onto her.

Dann.

She stands a few feet away, a book clutched tightly in her hands, her entire body tense.

Your presence here? She wasn’t expecting it.

You and Hongjoong sit down at the table, but there's an undeniable awkwardness that hangs in the air. Dann’s presence is almost suffocating—you can feel her gaze on you, but you pretend you don't notice.

Instead, you lean in toward Hongjoong, your hand finding its way to his thigh under the table.

His fingers graze your wrist as you smile at him, brushing your lips against his ear “Ready to work, nerd?” You murmur, your breath warm against his skin.

He smiles back, that familiar look of adoration in his eyes “Always, but first—”

He leans in and kisses you, slow and teasing, the kind of kiss that makes you feel like the world just stops for a moment.

You pull away just slightly, eyes meeting his “You really need to stop distracting me,” You tease.

Hongjoong grins, not one bit sorry “I can’t help it when you're so distracting.”

The others at the table shift uncomfortably, and you feel the heat of their awkward glances. Yunho, trying to break the tension, clears his throat loudly.

“So, Queen Bee, you gonna help us with this or what?”

You blink “How quaint.”

“Yeah, we're gonna need someone with that attitude to get through this,” Jongho jokes, nudging your shoulder playfully. “And since Joong’s clearly already distracted—”

You roll your eyes but don’t resist “Fine, fine. What are we doing?”

From the corner of your eye, you catch Dann standing slightly apart from the group, fidgeting with the book in her hands. She’s trying to act like she’s not watching, but you feel it—her stare, the weight of her presence, the discomfort written all over her face.

Hongjoong, oblivious to everything but you, leans in slightly “We’re creating study guides for other students. Wanna help?”

You scoff, crossing your arms “Study guides? I didn’t know school nerds were running that kind of operation.”

Jongho laughs, tilting his head at you “Really? I didn’t know you even knew about the study guides. I thought you just paid nerds to take your exams for you.”

Your jaw drops slightly in mock offense, but in reality, you find the comment hilarious.

“Excuse you,” You huff, flipping your hair dramatically. “I am more than a pretty face, you nerd.” You snatch a textbook from the stack in front of you. “Now, give me those fucking books.”

Hongjoong grins at you, shaking his head “See? She’s a fast learner.”

“I was always smart,” You correct, flipping open the book and pretending to scan the page.

“That’s up for debate,” Jongho quips.

“You better watch it,” You warn, smirking.

Yunho chuckles, nudging Dann, who still stands awkwardly on the sidelines “Come on, don’t just stand there. You’re supposed to be the real nerd here.”

Dann startles slightly, caught off guard “H-Huh?”

Yeosang shoots her a knowing look, his voice light but careful “Don’t act like you haven’t done this a million times before. You’re always the one fixing our answers.”

Jongho nods in agreement “Yeah, sit down, Dann.”

Dann hesitates, but the warmth in their voices, the familiarity, makes her shift awkwardly. “I—yeah.”

“You in?” Yeosang asks.

Her heart clenches. Because that’s the problem, isn’t it? She was never really in. Not the way you are.

Not the way she wanted to be.

But despite the sting, she forces a smile, nodding “Yeah. I’m in.”

She pretends it doesn’t hurt when she sees Hongjoong’s hand absently squeeze your thigh under the table.

She pretends that being included still means something.

Even if it’s too late.

——

As the study session progresses, the library fills with the quiet hum of flipping pages, hushed discussions, and the occasional laughter from your table.

You're flipping through one of the books, trying to make sense of the notes when Hongjoong leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You sure you’re not just pretending to read?” He murmurs.

You scoff, shoving his face away lightly “Shut up, nerd.”

Jongho snorts “That’s literally what we said—she just sits here to look smart.”

You glare at him, tossing a pencil in his direction “I will end you.”

Yeosang smirks, tapping his pen against his notebook “I mean, to be fair, YN, we are impressed. Usually, you’d be terrorizing the halls, not… doing actual schoolwork.”

Yunho grins “And she hasn’t threatened to quit yet. Growth.”

“Yet,” You emphasize, pointing your pen at him. “Don't get ahead of yourselves.”

Hongjoong chuckles, sliding an arm over the back of your chair, his fingers lightly grazing your shoulder.

“Nah, she’s too competitive to quit now. She’s gotta prove us all wrong.”

You huff but don’t deny it. Meanwhile, Dann barely hears the conversation.

She keeps her head down, scribbling mindlessly in the margins of her notebook, pretending to be focused. But in reality, she’s distracted—by the way Hongjoong leans into you, how effortlessly you fall into place among his friends.

She should be used to this feeling by now, but it still stings.

Yunho nudges her again, voice lighthearted “Dann, you good? You haven’t called me an idiot yet, and I know I’ve messed up at least three times.”

Dann blinks, forcing a weak chuckle “Oh—uh, yeah. Sorry. What were you saying?”

Yeosang tilts his head, studying her a little too carefully, but doesn’t press.

“Was just asking if I should format this section like the last one or break it into smaller parts,” Yunho says, handing her a sheet of notes.

She takes it with trembling fingers, trying to focus. But then—

Soft laughter.

She glances up just in time to see Hongjoong kissing your cheek, his hand resting way too comfortably on your lap.

Her stomach twists.

She did this.

She made a deal with Seonghwa. She fed Mike information. She helped spread rumors about you.

And for what?

To watch Hongjoong fall for someone else anyway? To watch you win again?

Her grip on the pen tightens. But… it’s not jealousy that eats at her this time.

It’s guilt.

Because if she had just stayed out of it, if she hadn’t let her petty resentment and heartbreak drive her, maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Maybe Mike wouldn’t have gone that far.

Maybe Hongjoong wouldn’t hate her if he knew.

But now, it’s too late.

She can’t undo what she’s done.

And soon, she’ll have no choice but to face it.

✮ ⋆

The library session lasts longer than expected. By the time you all wrap up, the school halls are mostly empty, bathed in the dim glow of the evening lights.

Hongjoong stretches beside you, cracking his neck "Alright, nerd squad, mission accomplished."

Jongho groans, rubbing his eyes "Barely. I swear, if one more person asks me to explain quadratic equations, I'm quitting school."

Yeosang chuckles, stuffing his papers into his bag "You'll survive. Probably."

"Yeah, yeah," Jongho mutters. Then he smirks. "Still can't believe YN actually helped."

"I told you," Hongjoong says proudly, pulling you close with an arm around your waist. "She's not just a pretty face."

"Obviously," You say, flipping your hair.

Yunho stretches, groaning "That’s enough brainpower for today."

Hongjoong grins "You sure? Thought nerd stuff was your hobby."

Linda scoffs, leaning into his side "Yeah, yeah, this was cute and all, but next time, I’m making you all do my homework instead."

Hongjoong chuckles, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger on your cheek for just a second longer than necessary, and the small gesture makes your heart flutter.

Across the table, Dann watches.

Everyone is grabbing their things, chatting casually about the day as they prepare to leave.

And then—

"You already know Hongjoong is using you, right?"

The words hang in the air, cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere like a blade.

Hongjoong freezes.

You do too.

Slowly, you turn your head, eyes locking onto Dann.

She looks like she immediately regrets it.

Yunho lets out a low whistle "Damn."

Yeosang glances between the three of you, eyebrows raised.

Jongho exhales sharply, his grip tightening around the strap of his backpack "What the hell did you just say?"

Dann’s mouth parts, but no words come out.

"I—"

"You know what?" Your voice is eerily calm, dangerously calm. "Let me make sure I heard you right." You tilt your head. "You think Joong is using me?"

Dann’s heart pounds, she didn’t mean to say it.

It just slipped.

She was so lost in her own thoughts, so lost in the pain of seeing you two together that the words just fell out.

But now it’s too late.

Hongjoong scoffs, running a hand down his face "That’s actually insane."

"You know what’s more insane?" You fold your arms. "The fact that you even thought that, Dann."

"I—" She tries again, her voice wavering. "I didn’t mean… It was just—"

"Just what?" Your voice is sharper now. "Something you just casually thought? Or did someone put that idea in your head?" Dann’s stomach drops. You let out a bitter chuckle. "Unbelievable."

Yunho and Jongho exchange glances, watching the scene unfold in tense silence.

Yeosang clears his throat "Uh, maybe we should—"

"No." Hongjoong shakes his head. "I wanna hear this." His voice lowers, but it’s sharp—cutting. "You really think that little of me?"

Dann panics.

"I didn’t— I mean, I don’t know!" She blurts out, shaking her head. "I just.. I heard—" She stops herself.

But it’s already too late.

Your expression doesn’t change, but the slightest flicker in your gaze tells Hongjoong everything. You know exactly what’s happening.

But you can’t let on, so you do what you do best.

You smirk "You heard what?" You ask smoothly, tilting your head. "Come on, Dann. Don’t get shy on me now."

Dann feels trapped. Every fiber in her being is screaming at her to fix this.

To lie.

To say anything to make it go away.

But she can’t.

She can only stand there, feeling the weight of her own betrayal crushing down on her.

Hongjoong exhales sharply, shaking his head "I really thought we were cool, Dann."

That makes it worse.

He doesn’t sound angry.

He sounds disappointed.

Dann swallows hard, staring at the floor "I… I should go."

Nobody stops her.

Not even Yunho, Jongho, or Yeosang.

She grabs her things and rushes out, leaving behind the suffocating tension she created.

The second she’s gone, Jongho exhales, shaking his head "What the fuck was that?"

"That was crazy."

Hongjoong is still staring at the door Dann disappeared through.

You touch his arm, voice soft "You okay?"

He looks down at you, searching your face for a moment before sighing "Yeah," He mutters. "I’m just— I don’t know. I was really hoping that she wasn't involved with Park and Mike."

You squeeze his hand, your voice steady "Well, she is."

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The dining room is bathed in warm, golden light, the soft clinking of silverware against fine china the only sound filling the space.

The Clarke family dinners are always a performance—elegance, poise, and surface-level pleasantries hiding the rot underneath.

You push your food around your plate, only half-listening as your mother hums approvingly, sipping her wine.

“Well,” She says, a pleased smile on her lips. “I must say, Hongjoong’s father has been a wonderful addition to the household staff.”

Your fork pauses midair.

Mike’s does too.

Your father nods in agreement, setting his glass down “Punctual, respectful, efficient—everything we could ask for. He’s handling the job well.”

You relax slightly, about to take a bite when Mike speaks.

“I’m sorry, but what?”

The room stiffens. You glance up just in time to catch his expression shift—from confusion to realization to rage.

Your mother, ever the graceful hostess, waves a hand delicately “Oh, we didn’t mention it, did we?” She chuckles lightly, as if it were a minor oversight. “YN came to us with the idea. Hongjoong’s father was out of work, so we hired him.”

Mike’s jaw tightens, his grip on his knife turns white-knuckled. You feel the tension roll off him in waves.

Your father—oblivious or simply uninterested in Mike’s growing fury—adds, “And truthfully, it was a great decision. The man is trustworthy. If he keeps it up, he might even stay with us long-term.”

Mike’s fork clatters against his plate. Your mother flinches.

“I see,” He says, voice icy. His gaze cuts straight through you. “And no one thought to tell me?”

“Didn’t seem necessary,” Your father replies simply.

Mike’s anger shifts, redirecting itself entirely onto you “Of course,” He mutters. “It was your idea.”

You meet his gaze, keeping your posture calm, collected, untouchable “Yes,” You say, taking a sip of your wine. “It was.”

He laughs, but there’s no humor in it “Unbelievable.”

Your mother sighs, setting down her fork “Mike, don’t start.”

“Don’t start?” Mike echoes, leaning back in his chair. “So, let me get this straight—you let her bring some random lower-class worker into our home, let him drive us around like some pet project, and I’m just supposed to accept it?”

“He’s not random,” You say, voice sharp. “He’s Hongjoong’s father.”

“Oh, right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Hongjoong.” His gaze darkens. “The same guy who’s using you?”

You hold a smile, he still believes it.

Mike leans forward, elbows resting on the table, his eyes glinting with something cruel. “What, did he guilt you into this? Make you feel bad for his pathetic little family?”

You set your wine glass down a little too hard.

Your mother tenses. “Mike—”

But you cut her off “You don’t know a damn thing about him.” Your voice is cold, final.

He smirks “Oh, but I do.” He tilts his head, eyes flickering with mock sympathy. “You just don’t want to hear it.”

“I don’t want to hear it,” You agree, voice like steel. “Because it’s bullshit.”

Mike’s smirk drops.

Your father sighs “Enough.”

But Mike isn’t finished “You can dress him up however you want, YN,” he sneers. “But at the end of the day? He’s just a pathetic loser clinging to your last name.”

Your hands curl into fists.

“And you,” He continues, voice lowering, “Are a complete idiot for falling for it.”

The air is thick with silence.

Your mother exhales, rubbing her temples “Mike, we’re eating.”

Your father levels him with a stare “Your attitude is getting out of hand.”

He laughs, pushing his plate away “Yeah? Well, so is hers.” He stands, chair scraping against the floor. “You can let yourself get used like a fucking idiot if you want,” He says, voice dripping with disgust. “Just don’t expect me to sit here and watch.”

He storms off, leaving the room in tense silence. Your parents exchange a tired look. You take another sip of wine, heartbeat hammering in your chest.

From the hallway, someone is listening.

Dann.

And her guilt grows.

✮ ⋆

The Clarke mansion is quiet, the weight of dinner’s tension still lingering in the air. The staff moves about their business in silence, avoiding eye contact, as if sensing that something dark is simmering beneath the surface.

Dann, however, isn’t moving.

She’s frozen just outside the dining room, her mind replaying everything she just overheard. The way Mike spat his words at you, the venom in his voice, the sheer hatred he had for her—all because she had helped someone he despised.

Because you had made a choice that wasn’t about him.

Dann swallows hard, guilt gnawing at her insides like a slow poison. She should feel relieved that you had fought back—that for once, someone had shut Mike down. But all she feels is fear.

Because if he could talk to his own sister like that, what was stopping him from turning on her?

The thought chills her. She should leave. She should go to her room and pretend none of this is her problem. But before she can move a hand grabs her wrist.

She whirls around, heart slamming against her ribs, only to come face to face with him.

Mike.

The air leaves her lungs. His grip isn’t tight—not yet—but it’s firm enough to send pure terror coursing through her veins.

“You,” He murmurs, his voice dangerously low. His eyes are sharp, scanning her face like she’s something rotten beneath his shoe.

Dann tries to pull away, but his fingers tighten, his hold turning bruising.

“M-Mike,” She stammers, forcing a nervous laugh. “What’s—what’s wrong?”

His lips curl into a cold smirk “You tell me.”

Dann swallows, willing herself to stay calm “I don’t—”

“Did you know?” His voice cuts through the air like a blade.

Dann stiffens “Know… what?”

Mike leans in, his breath hot against her skin. “About Hongjoong’s father working for my family.”

“I—”

His grip tightens “Don’t fucking lie to me, Dann.”

“I didn’t know!” She blurts out, panic creeping into her voice. “I swear, I—I had no idea—”

His jaw ticks. He’s not buying it “You’ve been avoiding me,” He murmurs, his tone almost thoughtful. “Ever since that night.”

Dann goes rigid.

That night.

The night he put his hands on you.

The night she realized just how much of a monster he truly was.

“I haven’t—”

His fingers suddenly clamp around her arm, and he pulls her forward, dragging her through the hallway. Dann yelps, stumbling after him, fear clawing at her throat.

“Where are we—?”

“Somewhere private,” He cuts her off smoothly.

Her stomach twists. The deeper into the house they go, the quieter it becomes. The staff is gone. There’s no one to see them. No one to stop him.

No one to help her.

Mike finally shoves open a door that leads to the back garden, a secluded area far from the main house. The night air is cold, but the way he looks at her sends a different kind of chill through her bones.

Dann stumbles back, chest heaving, trying to create space. “Mike, I—”

“You think I don’t see it?” He says, voice eerily calm. “You think I don’t know you’re hiding something from me?”

Dann shakes her head, heart pounding “I swear I didn’t know about it. I would have told you!”

And it was true, she didn't know about Hongjoong’s father working for your family. But Mike just stares at her. Studying her.

Then he laughs.

A low, quiet chuckle that makes her skin crawl.

“Look at you,” He murmurs. “Fucking shaking.”

Dann flinches.

Mike steps closer, towering over her “I don’t like when people keep secrets from me, Dann,” He murmurs, voice like poison.

Dann’s chest tightens.

This is it.

This is the moment.

She can keep playing his game. Keep letting him control her. Keep living in fear.

Or she can do what she should have done weeks ago.

Her fingers curl into fists. She lifts her head, her cheek still burning, and looks him dead in the eyes.

“You’re a fucking coward.”

Mike freezes.

Dann’s pulse roars in her ears. Her own words shock her. But once they’re out, she can’t stop.

“You think you’re so powerful,” She breathes, voice shaking but growing stronger. “You think everyone should be afraid of you. But deep down, you’re just pathetic.”

Mike’s jaw clenches. Dann forces herself to smile. It’s small, shaky, but it’s there.

And for the first time in weeks, she feels powerful. Because she can see it.

For just a fraction of a second, his smirk drops and before she can react—

His hand swings.

The impact is sharp, brutal. Dann’s head snaps to the side, a gasp catches in her throat. The sting spreads across her cheek like fire, her vision blurring from the sheer shock.

Her body locks up.

She can’t breathe.

She can’t move.

Dann’s heart is pounding so loudly it drowns out the quiet.

Mike’s handprint burns on her cheek, the sting radiating through her skull, but the real pain isn’t physical.

It’s the terror.

The realization that she pushed him too far. The garden is empty, secluded—the perfect place for a nightmare. And Mike?

He looks like he’s enjoying it.

His lips curve into a slow smirk as he watches her struggle to catch her breath, her fingers trembling at her sides.

‘You’re a fucking coward.’

The words still hang in the air, and Dann knows she’s signed her own death sentence.

Mike’s expression darkens. His posture stiffens. And then he laughs.

Low. Amused. Cruel.

“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” His voice is quiet, almost mocking.

Dann stays silent. She knows better than to answer. But he doesn’t need her to. He steps forward, closing the space between them, and she flinches instinctively.

His smirk widens “Cute. You think you’re brave now, don’t you?”

Dann swallows hard “I—”

“Shut up,” He cuts her off. The amusement vanishes, replaced with something far colder.

His gaze sweeps over her, calculating, dissecting—like he’s deciding exactly how to break her.

“I bet you think you have nothing to lose,” He murmurs. “That you can just walk away from this and be fine.”

Dann’s breathing falters.

That tone. That deadly calm.

It’s worse than when he’s yelling. Because when Mike speaks like this—he means it.

“I could ruin your mother in a second,” He continues, voice smooth, effortless. “She works for my family. She needs this job. And you?” His head tilts slightly. “You need her to keep it. To pay for your father’s hospital bills.”

Dann’s stomach twists violently.

He knows.

He knows.

“How did you—?” Her voice catches.

Mike chuckles “You think I don’t do my research?” His expression turns mocking. “Your poor, pitiful father, lying there in a hospital bed, while your mother slaves away to keep him alive. And you? You run around playing spy for me, all because you wanted some nerd to look your way.”

Dann feels sick. Her fingers curl into fists at her sides, nails digging into her palms.

“Leave them out of this,” She whispers.

“Oh? Now you care?” Mike exhales sharply, like he’s bored. “I mean, your mother’s getting old, isn’t she? I doubt she’d find another job if something were to… happen to her position.”

Dann’s lungs seize. And then, the final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, and your father?” Mike clicks his tongue. “A vegetable in a hospital bed, wasting away.” His tone is almost mocking. “How long has it been? Three years?”

Dann’s entire body locks up. Because he’s right.

Three years.

Three years of her mother breaking her back to keep him alive. Three years of Dann doing everything she could to ease the burden.

Three years of hoping. That maybe, one day, her father would wake up.

Mike’s voice cuts through the fog of her fear “I could make that bed disappear, you know.”

Dann stares at him, eyes wide.

“I mean, think about it.” He shrugs. “What’s the point of keeping someone around who isn’t even awake? The doctors must be tired of keeping him alive. And your mother? Imagine how relieved she’d be if she didn’t have to worry about hospital bills anymore.”

Dann’s breathing turns shallow. Her fingers dig into her skin so hard they might leave bruises. Mike leans back, watching her come undone.

Then he smiles “And as for you?” He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper. “I can make sure you don’t even finish school.”

Dann’s heart drops, his smirk is gone now, his eyes cold and merciless.

“You think my family doesn’t have connections in the education system?” He scoffs. “All it takes is one phone call. One simple request. And suddenly, your scholarship? Gone. Your grades? Suspiciously altered. Your teachers? Unwilling to recommend you for any other school.”

Dann freezes, because he’s not bluffing. This isn’t an empty threat.

This is real.

Her entire future—her mother’s future—her father’s life—all hanging by a single thread. And Mike?

He’s holding the scissors.

“You don’t want that, do you? So, tell me, Dann.” His voice softens, but the cruelty behind it only makes it worse. “Are you still on my side?”

Dann’s lips part, but no words come out.

She should scream. She should fight back.

She should run.

But instead—She nods.

Because she has no choice.

Because she’s afraid.

Because her father’s life is hanging in the balance.

And because she’s not ready to lose everything.

Mike’s smirk returns “Good girl.”

And just like that—it’s over. He pats her cheek mockingly before stepping back.

“You know what to do.” His voice is smooth, assured, like he’s never once considered the possibility of her betraying him.

Because why would he?

She’s trapped.

Dann watches as he walks away, leaving her frozen in the garden, hands trembling, chest tight.

Her father, her mother, her entire life.

Mike owns all of it.

Tears blur her vision as she wraps her arms around herself, body wracked with silent shame.

She wants to do the right thing.

But survival?

It comes first

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

Ahhhhh, I love it! I love it! I love it! I’m just smiling at my phone over words, but it just so sweet!

I’m now craving some italian.

Hi, congrats on 300 followers. I have a prompt request for the celebration. I would like to request a one-shot of jongseob with the prompt from sweet "smiling during kisses".

I would also like to add that the reader be gender neutral. congratulations again on 300 followers! 🎉

hihi! thank you so much for participating, and sorry for the late, hope you like it <3 ; 1k wc ; fluff ; first time writing for soeb aaaa ; and credits to my fav proofreader @sobun1est

300 followers event 🎀

You notice the light of the candles as soon as you open the door of your house, taking the first step inside your apartment.

“I’m home!” you said.

Shortly after, called by your voice, you noticed Jongseob coming out of his room to come and welcome you.

That day was your anniversary; one year had passed since you had confessed your tender love and the "roommate" label had turned into lovers. You had just returned from the small pastry shop where you worked in the afternoons to save up for your studies, and with you, you had a large plastic bag containing your boyfriend’s favorite cake.

Although neither of you was swimming in gold, you were happy with your flat. So you gradually decorated it and created a small home with all the amenities you could want.

“Welcome back, honey” he said to you, coming closer to steal a kiss from you and helping with the bags.

While he went to put the cake in the refrigerator you moved towards the small room, from where a soft light came.

As soon as you entered, you noticed that many candles were placed throughout the room, and in the center, there was a carefully set table. The window was wide open, and the view was of the city illuminated by the few lights of the night.

On the table there were two glasses, and next to them a bottle of your favorite wine. The plates had light red and gold decorations, and the tablecloth and napkins followed that theme.

There was also your record player, who carefully selected the records that had accompanied your evenings throughout that year.

“Do you remember our first date?” the boy asked you as he entered the room.

“When we shared pizza, sitting on this sofa while we tried to guess about the lives of the passers-by under this balcony? How could I forget?” you asked him.

He nodded and moved in your direction, seemingly unable to resist his desire to be by you.

He took your face in his hands and soon joined your lips in a long kiss.

“How about we create a remix, maybe with a slight upgrade?” he asked you, looking you directly in the eyes.

“I would love it,” he replied, smiling.

Everything at that moment brought back memories of the first date, when after a year of living together, since you attended the same university, that boy had come forward to ask you to be together.

“Happy anniversary Seob”

“You too, love” he replied.

During your first date, while you were waiting for the food to come, the two of you sat on the couch. You could only gaze lovingly at Jongseob's slim physique as he was focused on the task at hand—he had stood up to begin the vinyl recordings.

During the first date, you were waiting for the pizza to be delivered, while now you were waiting for the lasagna - entirely cooked by Jongseob - to cook in the oven!

You had once expressed how much you would have liked to taste Italian food, so that's why he chose it for dinner.

He had carefully chosen the order of the music records to listen to, as he had presented them to you during your year together.

To ensure that everything looked its best in your eyes, he had even asked his mother to lend him some of the dish set that she had used for her wedding.

He had discovered your favorite flavor in candles, and in his pocket, he had a crumpled piece of paper with a short poem that he wanted to recite to you.

Now he was sitting next to you on the couch and was following the moves of the first date step by step. He had counted how many times your eyes had crossed, but like the first time, he had gotten lost in your eyes and had opted for a more direct approach.

He had turned to you while you were watching him the whole time - noticing how his face was bright and how he had changed in a year. You vividly remembered all the features of his face and how his expression had gone from full concentration to complete disorientation as soon as he had looked at you.

And now everything was happening again: your eyes had met, and the butterflies in your stomach had started to dance.

He had soon come dangerously close and had canceled the distances. Neither of you could hold back a smile, remembering your first kiss while you were living the umpteenth. Many quick kisses alternated with passionate ones while your bodies also got closer.

You took a brief break to let out some lovely laughs that blended in with the background music like they were the melody itself.

Smiles between the kisses, comforting scents, and the warmth of the bodies that united.

He had moved his hand from behind your neck to your hips- oh how he had become bolder.

You were facing him and found it difficult to keep your eyes closed, so now and again when he drew you away, you gave him a tiny peek.

You loved so much seeing that boy's face up close.

With an awkward and hesitant smile, he looked so attractive with the candles lighting him.

The first time you had been interrupted by the arrival of the delivery boy, while this time by a strange burning smell that began to spread from the kitchen.

As soon as it hit your boyfriend's nostrils, his eyes widened and he suddenly stood up.

"THE LASAGNA!" he said as he ran towards the kitchen.

You giggled as you moved to go and check it out too.

As soon as you arrived in the kitchen you saw him wearing two pink skates and an apron of the same color, as he took the lasagna out of the oven. He hadn't even taken the time to turn on the light, the light of the candles was enough; but he had chosen to wear the apron to avoid dirtying the outfit he had worked on to impress you.

Luckily the lasagna wasn’t burnt, but on the contrary, it had acquired a light crunchy crust that had made that dish even better.

You found yourselves shortly after at the table, savoring that delicious food while you remembered the times gone by, shared moments of the present, and fantasized about future experiences.