Wow, A Chapter Where Reader’s Life Isn’t Going Horrible. This Is Going Great, But We Still Gotta

YOU READY TO GET FUCKING SUED

BRO DANN GROW A BACKBONE I SWEAR YOU KEEP PISSING ME OFF

Popular, Boy

☆14: The first confession.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 8,7k

Summary: While some battles are fought with fists, others are waged behind closed doors, where power, reputation, and control mean everything.

And when innocence is placed at the center of the storm, the lines between family and enemy blur.

Warnings: Cursing, physical violence, power dynamics, fluff.

an: We are almost at the end of the series!! I hope you enjoy the last chapters coming soon♡

Series masterlist Join the Taglist

☆13 ☆15: The first checkmate. Coming soon.

The waiting room smells like antiseptic and paperwork, a sterile combination that makes your stomach churn.

You tap your nails against your thigh, gaze locked on the reception desk as if willing the nurse to call your name faster.

Hongjoong sits beside you, his hand resting lightly on your knee, a silent anchor. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t tell you to calm down, but his presence alone is enough to keep you grounded.

It’s been a week. A long, exhausting week of waiting. And now, it’s finally time. A nurse steps out from behind the desk, a folder in her hands.

“Miss Clarke?”

You stand immediately, legs tense, heart hammering. He follows suit, his hand finding yours, lacing his fingers through yours without hesitation.

The nurse hands you the folder with a professional smile, oblivious to the weight of what she’s just given you.

“Here are the results. Let us know if you need anything else.”

You nod stiffly, clutching the envelope as if it might slip through your fingers and disappear. Neither of you says a word as you leave the hospital.

Not even when you slide into Hongjoong’s car.

Not even when you place the envelope on your lap, staring at your name printed neatly on the front.

The tension is suffocating.

He glances at you before reaching over, his fingers brushing against your wrist.

“Pretty,” He murmurs, soft but firm. “Do you want me to open it?”

You inhale sharply, then shake your head “No.”

With careful movements, you break the seal and pull out the papers. Your eyes skim the words—test subject, percentage, confirmation—until you find it.

99.9% probability of paternity.

Your fingers tighten around the edges of the document, your breath catching.

There it is.

Proof.

The proof you needed to finally rip Mike’s perfect image to shreds.

Hongjoong watches you carefully, his free hand still resting over yours “It’s real,” He says, like he already knows. Like he never had a doubt.

You nod, throat tight “It’s real.”

For a few moments, you let yourself sit in the weight of it.

Then, you exhale and fold the papers neatly, sliding them back into the envelope “Let’s go.”

✮ ⋆

Your room is dimly lit. You and Hongjoong sit on your bed, the envelope between you, a silent promise of what’s coming.

You tap the envelope once before speaking “Mike has a business trip in two days.”

Hongjoong leans back against the headboard, arms crossed “That’s when you’re telling them?”

“That’s when I’ll have the best chance,” You confirm. “If he’s here, he’ll find a way to twist everything. He’ll manipulate them, make himself the victim. I need them to see the truth without his interference.”

He nods, understanding “And you need me there.”

You look at him then, taking in the steady certainty in his eyes “I want you there,” You admit. “As a witness. As… as support.”

His gaze softens, and he reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently “I’ll be there, pretty.”

The words settle something deep inside you, a quiet reassurance that you won’t have to face this alone.

You lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder, letting the storm outside mirror the one building inside your home.

In two days, everything would change.

And for the first time, you were ready for it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann hesitates outside Mike’s study, her hands clammy as she wrings them together. She shouldn’t be here.

She doesn’t want to be here.

But she doesn’t have a choice. With a deep breath, she knocks. A sharp ‘Come in’ Follows almost immediately.

Dann swallows and steps inside. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and his signature cologne. He sits at his desk, fingers steepled, his gaze sharp as it lands on her.

She feels like prey.

“Well?” His voice is clipped, impatient. “What is it?”

Dann shifts uncomfortably, her nails digging into the skin of her palm “I… I overheard something.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, waiting.

“It’s about YN.”

That gets his attention. Mike’s entire body stiffens, his sharp gaze snapping toward Dann.

“What about her?” His voice is low, laced with something dangerous.

Dann forces herself to keep her composure, though the weight of his stare makes her stomach churn.

“She… she was on the phone with Hongjoong a couple of days ago,” She begins hesitantly. “I didn’t hear much, but I caught a name.”

He doesn’t react right away. He just watches. Waiting.

Dann swallows hard “Hannah.”

The sound of glass shattering against the wall makes her flinch violently.

Her breath catches as she watches whiskey drip down the bookshelf, the remnants of the crystal glass scattered across the polished wood floor.

Mike rises abruptly, his chair scraping against the ground, the muscles in his jaw flexing as his hands curl into fists. His entire body trembles with barely contained rage.

“What did you just say?” His voice is dangerously low.

Dann forces the words out, her pulse hammering “I–I heard her say they should go with Hannah. And then she left with Hongjoong. I don’t know where they went, but—”

His palm slams down onto the desk with a force that rattles the papers on top of it. Dann jumps, her entire body locking up.

“You’re sure?” His voice is tight, seething.

She nods frantically “Yes. She said it clearly.”

Mike’s breathing turns ragged, his chest rising and falling too fast. The room is heavy with his fury, suffocating.

That bitch.

He told Hannah to disappear. He made sure of it. There was no way you could have been in contact with her.

Unless…

His stomach twists with something unfamiliar—something dangerously close to dread.

What if Hannah never left?

What if—

His fingers dig into the desk as he exhales sharply, forcing himself to think. His thoughts are spiraling, unraveling, but one thing is certain.

He needs answers. Now.

Slowly, he turns to Dann, his expression unreadable, voice cold and deliberate.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.”

Dann nods quickly, stepping back toward the door. She doesn’t need to be told twice. But before she can escape, his voice slices through the air again.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” His tone is eerily calm, but the way his chest rises and falls betrays his barely leashed fury.

Dann hesitates, a chill running down her spine. She already knows where this is going. And once again… it’s her fault.

“I… I don’t know,” She whispers.

But he’s already moving.

Without another word, Mike practically bolts from the room, his footsteps heavy with purpose.

Dann stands frozen for a second, her pulse roaring in her ears.

Then, without thinking, she rushes after him.

If she can stop him from hurting you again… maybe, just maybe, she can lessen the guilt threatening to drown her.

✮ ⋆

The moment the bedroom door slams open, you barely have time to react before Mike storms inside.

Hongjoong stiffens beside you, his entire body going rigid as he instinctively moves closer. Dann lingers by the doorway, frozen in place.

But the older one doesn't look at them. He doesn’t even acknowledge their presence. His furious gaze is locked solely on you.

“What the fuck are you playing at?” His voice is low, dangerously quiet—but you know better than to mistake it for restraint.

You raise an eyebrow, keeping your expression indifferent even as your heart pounds.

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Mike. I play a lot of things.”

His jaw ticks. His hands curl into fists at his sides.

“I’m not in the mood for your stupid games,” He spits. “You were with her.”

You blink, feigning confusion “With who?”

His hand moves so fast you barely see it.

The force of the slap sends your head snapping to the side, your cheek stinging instantly. The taste of blood blooms on your tongue.

Hongjoong moves before you can even react. He shoves Mike back, hard enough that he stumbles a step.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?!” His voice is sharp, furious, his breathing ragged with anger.

But Mike barely even looks at him. Instead, he straightens, smoothing out the front of his shirt like he isn’t the least bit fazed.

Then, he steps forward again, crowding you, towering over you like a storm ready to break. You lift your chin defiantly, refusing to cower.

“Where is she?” His voice is a low growl. “Where the fuck is Hannah?”

You tilt your head, licking the cut on your lip before giving him the most infuriatingly nonchalant smile you can muster.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His eyes darken “Don’t fucking lie to me, YN.”

“Lie to you?” You scoff. “Please. If there’s anyone who’s an expert in lying, it’s you.”

Another step forward. Another inch of space stolen.

Hongjoong moves again, stepping between you and Mike this time, his stance firm, protective.

“Back. The fuck. Off.” His voice is steady, but his hands are clenched into fists, his entire body wound tight like a spring ready to snap.

Mike glares at him, as if just now registering his existence.

“And what the hell are you going to do about it, nerd?”

Hongjoong doesn’t flinch “Try me and find out.”

There’s a heavy pause. The air crackles with tension.

And then… Mike smirks.

It’s slow, cold, calculated.

“Cute,” He mutters, voice dripping with condescension. “She’s really got you wrapped around her little finger, huh?”

Hongjoong doesn’t respond, doesn’t rise to the bait. But you see it—the way his fingers twitch at his sides, the way his jaw tightens.

And then, there’s Dann.

Standing by the doorway, silent, watching.

She does nothing, says nothing.

Just like before.

And something inside you snaps. You inhale sharply, the pain in your cheek already numbing beneath the flood of anger boiling in your veins.

“I don’t have time for your theatrics, Michael,” You say, your voice eerily calm. “So unless you have anything useful to say, get the fuck out of my room.”

Mike tilts his head, his smirk widening “You’re awfully confident for someone who still flinches when I raise my hand.”

You don’t flinch this time. Instead, you step around Hongjoong, closing the distance between you and him in a deliberate, defiant move.

“You should be careful,” You whisper, eyes locking onto his. “Because one day, you’re going to raise your hand at the wrong person.”

Mike doesn’t reply, he just looks at you. And in that moment, something shifts.

A flicker of uncertainty, maybe even a sliver of doubt, crosses his expression—so brief you might have imagined it.

Then, just as quickly, it’s gone.

He scoffs, rolling his shoulders before stepping back “This isn’t over,” He mutters.

You smile, sickly sweet “Oh, I know.”

With that, he turns sharply on his heel and strides out of the room, the door slamming behind him.

Silence.

Hongjoong exhales, running a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down.

Dann?

Still standing there.

Still watching.

She looks like she’s just seen a ghost—pale, eyes wide, shoulders drawn tight. Guilt hangs off her like a second skin, but you don’t give a fuck.

You exhale sharply, turning toward her with slow, deliberate movements.

“Why are you still here?” Your voice is flat, emotionless.

Dann swallows hard, her hands trembling as she grips the strap of her bag like it’s the only thing keeping her upright.

“YN, I—”

Your patience snaps “Get the fuck out.” Dann flinches, shame flashing across her face. “Did I fucking stutter?” You step forward, eyes burning into hers. “Or do you need me to spell it out for you?”

She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Just stands there, frozen in place, like she wants to say something—needs to—but she can’t.

Your fingers curl into fists “You stood there and did nothing. Again.” You shake your head, disgust curling in your stomach. “You are a fucking coward.”

Dann’s eyes glisten for a fraction of a second, but you don’t care.

You don’t fucking care.

She chose this.

She chose to side with Mike.

And now, she’s realizing it—realizing that no matter how much guilt is eating her alive, it doesn’t change the fact that she let him hurt you.

Again.

Hongjoong, still fuming, finally speaks “You heard her,” He says, voice low and cold. “Get out.”

Dann’s lips part slightly, but no words come out. Then, after a painfully long moment she nods. Her gaze drops to the floor as she turns on shaky legs and stumbles toward the door.

She hesitates when she reaches the threshold, gripping the handle so tight her knuckles turn white.

“I never meant for it to be like this,” She whispers, voice barely above a breath.

You don’t respond. She lingers for just another second—just long enough for you to see the full weight of her regret in her expression.

Then, she steps out, and the door clicks shut behind her.

Silence.

Finally, you exhale, your body collapsing on the bed.

Hongjoong’s already by your side, his hand gently cupping your face. He doesn’t say anything at first, just watching you with concern in his eyes.

You can feel the heat of his gaze, but it doesn’t comfort you—it only makes you more aware of the hurt still burning inside.

“Are you okay?” He murmurs softly, gently lifting your chin to inspect the cut on your lip.

His fingers are warm, his touch careful, and you bite down a wince when he brushes his thumb over your skin.

“I’m fine,” You mutter, your voice still hoarse from the shouting and the silence that follows.

He doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he exhales sharply, shaking his head before standing up.

“Stay here,” He says firmly.

You watch as he disappears into your private bathroom, the sound of cabinets opening and closing filling the quiet room. Moments later, he returns with a small first-aid kit in his hands.

He kneels in front of you, placing the kit on the bed as he pulls out antiseptic and some cotton.

“This is going to sting,” He warns, soaking the cotton pad with the antiseptic before pressing it gently against your split lip.

You flinch, a sharp hiss escaping your lips “No shit, Sherlock.”

He huffs out a small laugh, shaking his head but continuing his task with steady hands.

“You and your damn mouth,” He mutters, his tone affectionate despite his frustration.

You roll your eyes, but the warmth in his voice soothes something inside you. He finishes dabbing at the wound, then carefully applies a bit of ointment with his fingertip, his touch unbearably soft.

When he’s done, he pulls back slightly, his eyes scanning your face as if making sure there aren’t any more hidden injuries. His fingers brush your jaw, lingering for a moment.

“YN…” His voice is quiet, serious.

You exhale, knowing what he’s going to say, knowing he wants you to be honest about what’s going on.

“I’m not going to let him get away with this, Hongjoong,” You say before he can speak, your voice firm despite the dull ache in your lip.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and if my parents try to cover for him, if they try to ignore the truth and protect him, I’ll sue him.”

His eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t look shocked. Just… resolute. Like he’s been waiting for you to say this.

“I’ll sue him for physical violence,” You continue, your voice steady now. “For everything he’s done to me. And for abandoning his child. If my parents refuse to see the truth, then I’ll expose it all.” Your gaze hardens. “I won’t let him pretend like this never happened. I’ll go after him for everything.”

Hongjoong lets out a slow breath, then places his hand on yours, squeezing it gently.

“I’m with you, pretty. Whatever you need.” His words are quiet, but they hit you harder than you expected.

You smile, a little softer now, though the fire in your chest doesn’t fade.

“Thanks. I can’t do this alone. I need you, Joong. I need someone who actually cares.”

He leans in closer, brushing his lips against your forehead “I’m not going anywhere, pretty. You don’t have to worry about that.”

His words are like a balm to the raw, exposed parts of you that still burn from the events of the past week.

You lean into him, feeling a sense of calm wash over you, but the battle is far from over.

And you’ll fight it until the very end.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The sound of luggage wheels rolling across the marble floor echoes faintly from the main hall. The staff murmurs in hushed voices as they move about, ensuring everything is ready for Mike’s departure.

You remain in your room, not bothering to come downstairs to see him off. You have no reason to.

But of course, that doesn’t mean he’ll leave without seeing you first.

A sharp knock rattles your bedroom door. You don’t move, keeping your gaze fixed on your vanity mirror as you swipe the last bit of lip gloss across your lips.

The door swings open anyway.

“Still sleeping in?” His voice drips with condescension as he steps inside, hands tucked into his suit pockets. “What a waste of a morning.”

You meet his gaze in the mirror, your expression blank “Did I invite you in?”

Mike chuckles, slow and deliberate as he leans against your doorframe “Oh, don’t be like that, dear sister.” His tone is almost mocking. “I’m leaving for a few days. Thought I’d be nice and say goodbye.”

You finally turn in your chair, crossing your legs as you tilt your head.

“You? Nice?” A smirk plays on your lips. “That’s new.”

His expression darkens, but he keeps his composure “Just making sure you don’t get any… stupid ideas while I’m gone.”

Your smirk doesn’t fade “Stupid ideas?” You rest your chin on your palm. “Like what? Going out with Hongjoong? Or maybe—oh, I don’t know—breathing without your permission?”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t take the bait. Instead, he pushes off the doorframe and takes a step closer.

“You think you’re untouchable just because Mom and Dad tolerate your little tantrums. But don’t forget, YN,” He leans down slightly, lowering his voice, “I always know what you’re up to.”

You hold his gaze, unfazed. If he’s trying to intimidate you, he’s wasting his time.

“Oh, please.” You scoff, standing up to face him properly. “If you really knew everything, you’d be a lot more pissed off right now.”

For a fraction of a second, something flickers in his eyes—uncertainty.

You smile sweetly, brushing past him toward your closet as if he’s nothing more than an annoying fly buzzing around your space.

“Have fun on your little trip, big brother.” You throw the words over your shoulder, voice dripping with fake politeness. “Try not to ruin anyone’s life while you’re gone.”

Mike’s silence lingers a second too long before he finally exhales sharply.

“We’ll see, little sister.”

And with that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

The moment the door clicks shut, you release the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

He knows nothing.

But soon? He will.

And you can’t wait to watch his world burn.

✮ ⋆

“He’ll be gone for four days, so the dinner has to be tomorrow night,” You tell Hannah over the phone, pacing your room.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Doubt laces her voice. “Your parents always side with him… I don’t think this time will be any different.”

You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temples.

“I’m not gonna lie… I don’t expect some big revelation, but maybe, just maybe, it’ll be enough to make them see him for who he really is.” Your eyes drift to the stack of photos on your desk. “I already printed some pictures of Lily and me together. She looks adorable.”

Hannah chuckles “Of course she does, she’s my daughter.”

You scoff “Thank God she got your genes and not Mike’s.”

She laughs “Alright, little lady. Good luck tomorrow night. Don’t forget to update me after.”

“Don’t worry, I will. Bye, Hannah.”

Ending the call, you immediately dial Hongjoong. He picks up after a few rings.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Hey, nerd.”

“What’s up?”

“Tomorrow night, I’m telling my parents about Lily.”

A beat of silence. Then, “Okay. What time should I be there?”

“Seven.”

“Got it. I’ll be there.”

With that settled, you head downstairs, finding your parents in the lounge. Your mother is sipping wine, your father reading something on his tablet.

“I was thinking,” You begin smoothly, “We should have a formal family dinner tomorrow. Something nice… and Hongjoong should join us.”

Your mother lights up instantly “Oh, I love that idea! I’ll have the chefs prepare something special.”

Your father hums in agreement, setting his tablet down “Actually, that works well. We have something important to discuss with you tomorrow night.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your expression neutral.

“Oh? That’s funny. I have something important to tell you too.”

Your mother claps her hands together, completely unaware of the storm brewing beneath your words.

“Perfect! Tomorrow will be a lovely evening.”

If only she knew.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next evening, the mansion is buzzing with activity. The dining room is set to perfection—polished silverware, crystal glasses, and candles flickering over the lavish spread of food.

The scent of gourmet dishes drifts through the air as house staff move efficiently, making sure everything is flawless for the ‘perfect’ family dinner.

Your mother walks past, admiring the setup with a pleased hum “This is wonderful,” She says, her red lips curving into a satisfied smile. “I want everything to be just right.”

You take a slow sip of wine, standing near the grand windows as you watch the evening sky darken. They have no idea what’s coming.

“Excited for dinner, sweetheart?” Your mother asks, adjusting one of the centerpiece arrangements.

You smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes “Oh, very.”

As if on cue, the main doors creak open. You glance over your shoulder just as Hongjoong steps inside, guided by a staff member.

He looks effortlessly good—black slacks, a fitted button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to show his forearms. His eyes find yours instantly, and a subtle smirk tugs at his lips.

“Hey, pretty.”

“Hey, nerd.”

Your mother claps her hands together, beaming “Hongjoong! I’m so happy you could join us.”

He nods politely “Thank you for having me, Catherine.”

She waves off the formality “Oh, come now, you’re practically family.”

If only she knew how ironic that statement really was.

Before anyone can say more, the deep voice of your father cuts in “Shall we sit?”

You share a quick glance with Hongjoong before following them to the table. The air feels thick with anticipation, a silent countdown ticking in your head.

Soon, your parents will know the truth about their golden son.

Soon, their perfect image of Mike will shatter.

And soon… everything will change.

—

The atmosphere at the table is warm—too warm. Beneath the golden glow of the chandelier, tension lingers like a quiet storm waiting to break.

The clinking of silverware and the occasional murmur of conversation fill the space, but the food on your plate might as well be dust.

Your mother is in an unusually cheerful mood, delighted by Hongjoong’s presence, while your father sips his wine, listening to the flow of conversation with a composed expression. It almost feels… normal.

But you know better.

And then, your father clears his throat, setting his glass down with deliberate care.

“So, darling,” He begins, his sharp gaze settling on you. “Your mother and I have something to discuss with you.”

You exchange a glance with Hongjoong, who subtly reaches under the table, his hand resting on your thigh—a quiet reassurance.

“Is that so?” You say smoothly, lifting your own glass to your lips. “What is it?”

Your mother beams, leaning in slightly “It’s about Mike.”

Of course it is.

Your father nods, his voice steady, authoritative “We’ve made a decision regarding his future. He’s being named the next CEO of Clarke Enterprises.”

Your fingers tighten slightly around your glass, but you keep your expression impassive.

“He’s been preparing for this role his entire life,” Your mother continues with pride. “This will secure not just his success, but the future of our entire family.”

You place your glass down carefully, tilting your head “You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”

Your father nods with satisfaction “It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”

Legacy. Always the fucking legacy.

Hongjoong’s grip on your thigh tightens, sensing the storm brewing inside you. But he doesn’t stop you.

You inhale slowly, your lips curling into something that almost resembles a smile.

“Well,” You say, voice deceptively light, “Since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”

Your mother raises an intrigued eyebrow “Oh?”

Your father watches you carefully, his patience thin but present. You sit up straighter, meeting their gazes dead-on.

“It’s about Mike,” You begin, pausing just long enough for anticipation to settle. “And his actual legacy.”

Your mother frowns slightly “What do you mean?”

Your smile sharpens “He already has a daughter.”

Silence.

Your mother blinks. Your father’s wine glass stills mid-air.

“What… did you just say?” Your father asks, his voice eerily calm.

You lean forward slightly, elbows resting on the table as you deliver the next blow.

“Four years ago, Mike had an affair with one of our housemaids. Her name was Hannah—I’m sure you remember her.”

Your mother’s expression freezes, her posture stiffening. Your father’s jaw tightens, but you don’t stop.

“When she got pregnant, your perfect son threatened her,” You continue, voice unwavering. “He told her to get rid of the baby. He forced me to lie and frame her for stealing so she would be fired. He abandoned her. Abandoned his own child.”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out the neatly stacked documents and slide them across the table. Your nails tap against the top page.

“Here.” Your voice is sweet, almost mocking. “A DNA test. Pictures. Bank transactions of the money I have been sending her every month since he left her to fend for herself.”

Your mother’s face drains of color. Your father’s grip on his fork tightens so hard you hear the faint creak of metal.

You tilt your head slightly, watching their reactions with quiet satisfaction “And this is the man you want to give the entire empire to?”

Your mother’s lips part slightly, her manicured fingers reaching hesitantly for the photos. The first image is of Lily alone—her bright, round eyes, her tiny, perfect features. Then another, with you beside her, smiling softly as she clings to your arm.

Your father slowly sets his utensils down, his gaze dark “You’re lying.”

You lean back, crossing your arms “The proof is right in front of you.”

Your mother shakes her head, almost desperate now “No… no, this is—this is a mistake.”

Your father exhales sharply, rubbing his temple “Mike would never—”

“Oh, but he did,” You cut him off smoothly. “And you can either accept that, or continue pretending he’s some flawless heir.”

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating. And then—

“This… cannot get out.”

Your blood runs cold.

You stare at your father, waiting for him to correct himself. To say something that doesn’t make you want to burn this entire house down.

Your mother finally meets your gaze, her expression unreadable “Do you have any idea what this could do to our family? To his future?”

A hollow laugh escapes you “Oh, so that’s what you care about?”

Your father sighs, as if this is just some inconvenience “Mike is going to take over the company. If this scandal comes out, it will ruin everything.”

You feel like you’ve been slapped. Hongjoong tenses beside you, his jaw locked, his hand gripping your thigh in restraint.

Your mother softens her voice, like she’s trying to reason with you “YN, sweetie… we cannot let this get out. It’s not just about Mike—it’s about all of us.”

You inhale sharply, schooling your expression. You knew this would happen. You knew. And yet, their blatant dismissal still stings more than it should.

You exhale slowly.

“Fine,” You murmur, collecting the documents back into your bag. “I understand.”

Your mother lets out a breath of relief “Good—”

“But let me make one thing very clear,” You cut her off, standing up. “If you try to cover this up—if you refuse to acknowledge that little girl as his daughter—I will make sure everyone finds out.”

Your father’s eyes darken “You wouldn’t dare.”

You meet his stare, unflinching “Try me.”

And they know you mean it. They know.

The air is suffocating. Your mother swallows, glancing between you and your father, tension crackling in the room.

And then, your father speaks, his voice cold.

“Go to your room, YN.” You raise an eyebrow in defiance. “Now.” His voice is sharp, commanding.

Hongjoong rises to his feet immediately, his stance protective, standing just a few steps behind you. But you don’t move at first, locking eyes with your father, refusing to back down.

The silence hangs heavy in the air for a moment, before, without another word, you grab Hongjoong’s hand. Together, you leave the dining room, the weight of the situation settling around you.

Once you step into the hallway, Hongjoong gives your hand a gentle squeeze, his voice quiet.

“YN…”

You shake your head, cutting him off “Not now.”

You make your way to your bedroom, and once inside, you immediately release his hand.

You walk straight to your vanity, placing the folder with the DNA test results and photos down onto the surface with precise movements, the sound of the paper rustling loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Your fingers grip the edges of the folder, your nails digging into the expensive paper as your mind races. The frustration is building up inside you, but you force yourself to breathe through it.

Hongjoong watches you carefully, the door clicking shut behind him. He stays silent for a moment, giving you space to process. He knows you need it.

Finally, he speaks softly, his voice filled with concern “Are you okay?”

You exhale sharply, turning to face him “I told you they’d cover it up,” You murmur, your voice quiet and bitter.

He steps closer, his eyes searching your face for any hint of vulnerability “Yeah... but you were still hoping, weren’t you?”

Your lips press into a thin line. Damn him for knowing you so well. You look away, arms crossed, leaning against the vanity as frustration bubbles up in you.

“I just wanted them to see him for what he really is,” You admit quietly, your voice trembling just slightly. “To finally see that he’s not perfect.”

Hongjoong moves between your legs, his hands resting gently on your thighs.

“They’re too deep in their delusions, pretty. You can’t change them overnight.”

You exhale sharply, the weight of the situation pressing down on you.

“Then I’ll make them see it,” You say, a fierce determination in your voice.

His hands tighten slightly on your waist, his gaze narrowing as he looks at you.

“How?”

“I’ll bring Lily tomorrow.” You shrug, as if the plan is simple, innocent.

He frowns, his brow furrowing “Wait—what? I don't think Hannah will agree to that.”

You look at him, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Maybe not, but this might pressure them into acknowledging her. They know she exists now, and there’s no reason to hide her anymore. I’ll tell them I want to spend time with her, show her the house. It's innocent.”

Hongjoong scoffs, a teasing glint in his eyes “Pretty, you and ‘innocent’ don’t belong in the same sentence.”

You grin, giving him a wink “Okay, maybe not. But still, it’s a good plan. They’ll have to deal with it when she’s right there in front of them.”

He exhales, running a hand through his hair, the lines of concern still etched on his face.

“And what if they freak out?”

“They won’t. They might struggle with it, but they won’t just throw her out. She’s their granddaughter, whether they like it or not.”

He studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. He shakes his head with a soft laugh.

“You’re scary when you plot, you know that?”

You smile slyly, cupping his cheek “I know. So... are you in?”

He sighs dramatically, though there’s no hiding the affection in his eyes.

“Like I have a choice.”

You laugh, leaning in to kiss him lightly “Nope. You don’t.”

With that, Hongjoong presses his lips to yours in a deep kiss, sealing the deal for the next move.

And just like that, the plan is set.

✮ ⋆

The hallway outside the dining room is dimly lit, the hushed murmur of voices bleeding through the heavy oak doors.

Dann stands just beyond the threshold, fingers curling around the strap of her bag. She hadn’t meant to stop. Hadn’t meant to listen.

But your voice—sharp, angry—had frozen her in place.

“You’re telling me that Mike is taking over the company?”

“It’s what’s best for the Clarke legacy.”

Dann’s breath catches. Her fingers twitch.

“Well, since we’re discussing important family matters, I have something to share as well.”

Dann’s throat tightens. She’s heard this kind of bitterness from you before, but never like this.

Never so raw.

“It’s about Mike, and his actual legacy.”

His actual legacy? What are you talking about?

She knows you have every reason to be upset. But Mike had warned her—had threatened her. And yet, something in her gut twists. She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t be listening to this.

She turns to leave, forcing herself to step away, but then—

“Dann!”

She flinches at the sound of her mother’s voice echoing from down the hall.

Shit.

Scrambling, she ducks into a side corridor before hurrying toward the kitchen. Her pulse pounds in her ears, your words still looping in her mind.

You were furious about Mike becoming CEO.

Dann hesitates, fingers hovering over her phone. For a brief moment, she considers doing nothing. She considers keeping this to herself.

But then she remembers Mike’s cold voice in her ear. Her stomach clenches as she finally types out the message.

Dann: YN’s pissed about you becoming CEO. She’s planning something.

She stares at the text, her finger hovering over the send button. A part of her screams Don’t do this. But another part knows…

If she doesn’t, she’ll be the next one to suffer.

Her thumb presses down.

Sent.

Her heart pounds as she locks her phone, shoving it into her pocket.

And as she heads toward the kitchen, trying to steady her breath, one thought keeps echoing in her mind.

How much longer can I keep doing this?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The gentle hum of the car engine fades as Hongjoong parks in front of the grand estate. You glance over your shoulder at Lily, who’s kicking her legs excitedly in her car seat, her wide eyes shining with curiosity.

“Alright, princess. Ready to see where I live?”

It took some convincing to get Hannah on board with bringing Lily along today, but after much persuasion, she finally agreed—though not without a threat.

If anything were to happen to her daughter, she told you, she’d make you wish you never stepped foot near her.

Lily gasps dramatically, clapping her hands “Like a castle?”

Hongjoong snorts “Close enough.”

You smirk, unbuckling her seatbelt before lifting her into your arms “Exactly like a castle. With grumpy old kings and queens inside.”

Hongjoong chuckles but gives you a look “Pretty.”

You just wink at him before turning toward the front doors. As you step inside, the staff immediately notices your little guest.

A few maids exchange surprised glances, but none dare to say anything. Then, your mother’s voice floats from the dining hall.

“YN? Darling, is that you?”

Showtime.

You adjust Lily on your hip and strut into the hall, Hongjoong right beside you. Your mother and father are already seated at the table, sipping tea like they own the world.

But the second they see her, your mother’s teacup stops midair. Your father straightens.

“Mother, Father,” You say with a polite smile, shifting Lily in your arms, “I wanted to introduce you to someone properly.”

Lily, bless her little heart, waves excitedly “Hi, I’m Lily!”

Your mother blinks “Oh… oh my.”

Your father’s jaw tightens, but he stays silent. Hongjoong shoves his hands into his pockets, watching carefully.

“Since you know about her now, I figured there’s no need to keep her hidden,” You continue smoothly, placing Lily down so she can run toward the grand windows. “She’s family, after all.”

The air in the room is suffocating.

Your mother glances at your father “Well, I—” She stops when Lily gasps.

“This place is so big!” The little girl spins in excitement, her curls bouncing. “I wanna see all of it!”

Your mother’s lips part, struggling, fighting every instinct she has. She glances at your father again, who is rubbing his temple.

Hongjoong nudges you slightly, whispering, “Your dad looks like he’s about to explode.”

You grin “I know.”

Your mother clears her throat, standing up “Lily, dear, would you like something to drink?”

Lily beams “Do you have chocolate milk?”

Your mother hesitates, then nods slowly “Yes… of course.”

You exchange a glance with Hongjoong.

Oh, this is too good.

Meanwhile, your father finally speaks, his voice even “And how long do you plan to keep her here, YN?”

You feign innocence “Just for a few hours. She should get to know where her family comes from.”

Your father sighs, rubbing his temple again. He looks like he wants to object—but what can he say? Get that child out of my house? Even he knows that would make him look bad.

And that’s when you realize—your parents are nervous. They don’t want to acknowledge her. They don’t want to accept her.

But ignoring her is impossible.

And the best part?

Mike still has no idea.

Your father exhales sharply, sitting up straighter. His voice drops into something colder, firmer.

“Darling, listen carefully.” His gaze is heavy, commanding. “Your brother will be back tomorrow.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “He can not see this girl here.”

You let out a dry laugh “Why not? it's his daughter.”

Your mother nods, forcing a smile “Yes, sweetheart. But it's illegitimate.”

Your father’s expression hardens “That means you will not, under any circumstances, mention the girl’s existence.”

A heavy silence fills the room.

Lily, still holding her glass of chocolate milk, glances up at her grandmother with wide, innocent eyes. Then, in the softest voice, she speaks.

“Daddy don’t want to meet me?” Her small voice cracks slightly as she pouts, her lip trembling.

She sets the glass down and looks at them, her eyes filling with tears as she struggles to understand why the adults are acting this way. The sadness in her expression is enough to make your heart ache.

The room grows painfully quiet. You see the subtle shift in your parents’ expressions as they look at the little girl, her innocence making it harder for them to keep up their cold act.

Lily sniffles, wiping her nose with her sleeve, and then in the sweetest, most trusting voice, she adds,

“Mommy told me that daddy loves me and when he is done with work, he will meet me.”

She says it as if it’s the most natural thing in the world—her childlike belief in her father’s love and promise, pure and untainted by the complicated mess of adult affairs.

You feel your throat tighten as you watch Lily, and even your parents are visibly affected.

Your mother’s hand shakes slightly as she reaches for Lily, pulling her onto her lap. Her expression softens, the guilt creeping in despite her best efforts to remain unaffected.

Your father glances at your mother, his face softening just a fraction. He lets out a small sigh, clearly conflicted, but doesn’t say a word. Instead, he picks up his glass, taking a long sip, as if the weight of the situation is too much to bear.

Lily’s innocent words seem to hit them harder than any argument could. And you realize—this is the beginning of something.

They can’t ignore her forever.

You lean forward, your voice still calm but filled with a subtle bite “You see, she’s not going anywhere. She’s part of the family now, whether you like it or not.”

Lily, oblivious to the tension, smiles softly and rests her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. Your mother brushes a strand of hair out of her face, and for a moment, you almost see the warmth return to her eyes.

“Let’s not pretend that we can’t move forward from this,” You add, watching them both. “She’s a part of me, and if you can’t see that, then you’re not seeing the full picture.”

Your father finally speaks, his voice quieter now, almost reluctant “We’ll see how things go.” His words are far from a promise, but it’s a crack in the facade.

A small step toward accepting the truth.

Hongjoong gently nudges your arm, his quiet support standing strong behind you.

And then, for a brief, fleeting moment, you think they might actually listen.

✮ ⋆

The afternoon stretches lazily as you, Hongjoong, and Lily spend time in the vast garden outside. The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the manicured lawns.

Birds chirp in the distance, and the sound of laughter and lighthearted chatter fills the air as you chase after Lily, who runs ahead, giggling uncontrollably.

Hongjoong stays close, holding Lily’s hand as she spins in circles, occasionally darting away to pick flowers or make up little games.

The innocence of the moment is enough to make your heart swell, and Hongjoong’s quiet smiles as he watches you with Lily are more than enough to reassure you that, despite the turmoil, this is where she belongs.

From the large windows of the dining room, your parents observe the scene in silence.

The head of the family's stern gaze never falters, his arms crossed over his chest, watching as you play with the child he doesn't want to acknowledge.

His mouth is set in a firm line, and it’s clear he hasn’t warmed to the idea of Mike’s hidden life.

“I still don’t like this,” He mutters under his breath. “It’s not just about her being his daughter. It’s about the family’s reputation. Michael has always been the heir. This… this doesn’t fit the image.”

His wife, standing beside him, watches you through the glass. Her eyes soften as she takes in the sight of her daughter and granddaughter together.

For a moment, she allows herself to feel something, something unspoken. Joy, maybe, or hope—an inkling that, perhaps, this child could be a part of their family, even if it’s only in the most private corners.

“I know you’re worried, but… she’s so sweet.” Her voice trembles slightly, her tone tender as she continues to watch. “I can’t deny it. She’s so innocent, and she deserves a chance. She’s part of Mike’s blood, after all.”

He narrows his eyes, his jaw tightening. He cannot bring himself to fully accept what is happening, nor can he allow his daughter to be wrapped up in the emotional complexity of it all.

He’s a man of principle, of tradition, and this is not how things should be. His position, his legacy—everything he’s worked for—depends on his son, upholding the family name.

“Mike can’t just do what he wants,” He grumbles, still staring out at the garden. “He’s the heir. We’ve worked our entire lives to protect this family’s name, and this—this child complicates things. She could ruin everything.”

The woman hesitates “But… she’s still part of our family, Richard. You can see it in her face. She’s… she’s so much like Mike. She deserves a place in this family.”

“But she can’t just be ‘part of the family’ because we feel sorry for her.” His voice grows firm again. “Family’s future depends on him. He is our heir. If this news gets out… it could destroy everything. We need to be careful.”

Catherine sighs softly, the weight of the decision pressing on her. She knows what he says is true. Mike’s position in the family, the business—everything depends on how they handle this situation.

She can’t just throw it all away for a child born from a mistake. But deep down, she feels a pang of sympathy for the little girl, and a part of her can’t help but want to open her heart.

“I just wish Mike would have been honest with us from the beginning,” She says softly, looking back out at the garden where you, Hongjoong, and Lily continue to play. “This could have been different… maybe we could have made it work.”

Her husband grunts, not bothering to respond. The thoughts swirling in his head are far more complex than he lets on. He’s still angry, still resolute in his belief that the family must maintain its perfect image.

But as he watches you laugh with the child, something shifts.

Just a little.

Catherine places a gentle hand on his arm, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t forget… we have to think about what’s best for the family. For all of us.”

He doesn’t respond immediately, but his gaze softens for a moment as he watches his daughter interact with Lily.

The love, the connection—it’s undeniable.

It’s not just about legacy anymore; it’s about family. And maybe, just maybe, he can find it in himself to accept this little girl.

✮ ⋆

The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the garden as the evening winds start to cool.

Lily’s little hands are clinging to your leg as you stand in the doorway, ready to leave.

She’s grown comfortable in the short time she’s spent here, her big eyes filled with innocence and wonder as she looks up at your parents.

“Lily, we’re going to head out now,” You say softly, crouching down to her level as you adjust her little jacket.

The weight of the evening’s tension still hangs in the air, but moments like this make it all seem worth it. Her eyes flicker to her grandparents, and then she looks back at you with that wide-eyed curiosity.

Your mother stands nearby, a little hesitant, but a soft smile curves on her lips as she watches the little girl.

“Goodbye, Lily” She says, her voice surprisingly gentle as she kneels in front of her. “Come here and give Grandma a hug.”

Lily blinks up at her and hesitates for just a second before her tiny arms stretch out.

“Bye, Grandma,” She says sweetly, throwing her arms around your mother’s neck in a warm embrace.

Your mother’s eyes soften even more, her heart swelling with tenderness “Goodbye, my dear. Come see us again soon, okay?” She says softly, her voice catching slightly.

“Okay!” Lily chirps, pulling back and giving her a big smile, her tiny hands clutching the edges of her jacket.

You feel your heart tug as you watch the two of them, the love in your mother’s eyes undeniable. You can’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you see how easy it is for Lily to wrap your mother around her finger.

Turning to your father, Lily trots over to him, her little legs moving quickly as she approaches him hesitantly.

“Goodbye, Grandpa,” She says shyly, her voice almost a whisper.

Your father’s stern expression softens for just a moment as he bends down to her level, offering a hand to her.

“Goodbye, little one,” He replies, his voice rough but kind as he gently pats her head. “Take care of yourself.”

Lily gives him a sweet smile, her innocence shining through. She gives him a quick hug, standing on tiptoe to wrap her tiny arms around his neck.

“I’ll miss you!” She says brightly before letting go.

Your heart aches slightly watching the interaction, a little flutter in your chest, as a sense of something new begins to blossom within you.

It’s strange, yet beautiful to see how Lily’s innocence is slowly making its way into their hearts, no matter how reluctant they may have been before.

Hongjoong stands off to the side, watching the scene unfold with a quiet smile. His presence is a steady comfort, and his eyes meet yours as he watches you.

You glance back at him, giving him a soft smile of appreciation for being there, supporting you in all of this.

Lily looks up at you and stretches her arms out wide, grinning “Come on, Auntie YN, let’s go home!”

You laugh softly, picking her up and resting her against your hip “Alright, sweetie, let’s go,” you say with a final wave to your parents. “Bye.”

With one last look to your parents, you turn to Hongjoong and nod for him to follow, holding Lily close.

Your mother and father wave back, their faces filled with that strange, bittersweet mixture of emotions as they watch you leave.

The door closes gently behind you, and as you step outside, the cool evening air wraps around you, the weight of the moment still lingering in your heart.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Four years ago.

The hallway outside Mike’s room is dimly lit, the distant hum of the household settling for the night.

You were on your way to your own room when you heard it—the sharp edge of his voice, low but venomous.

“I don’t give a damn what you think, Hannah.”

You pause. Hannah, the maid?

You inch closer, pressing yourself against the cold wall near the doorframe. You can’t see them, but you can hear everything.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” He continues, his tone eerily calm “You’re going to take care of this. Get rid of it.”

A sharp inhale. Then Hannah’s voice, trembling but still defiant.

“Mike, this is your child. You can’t just—”

A loud thud cuts her off, like a hand slamming against the desk. You flinch.

“No, Hannah,” Mike hisses, his voice now sharp as a knife. “I told you to handle it. I don’t care how. But you will not ruin my future over this. Do you understand me?”

Silence. Thick. Suffocating.

Then, softer, but no less cruel, “If you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell. And I’ll make sure that bastard never sees the light of day.”

Your stomach twists. Your chest tightens. You don’t know what’s happening, but your instincts tell you it’s something terrible.

Hannah sniffles “Mike, please…”

He sighs, exasperated, like he’s dealing with an inconvenience rather than a human being.

“You have until tomorrow to figure it out.”

A second later, footsteps approach. You panic, stepping away from the door just as it swings open.

Mike stops short when he sees you standing there. His eyes narrow, calculating.

“What are you doing here?”

Your mouth opens, but no words come out. You glance past him, catching a glimpse of Hannah inside the room—eyes red, shoulders shaking, her hand protectively placed over her stomach.

He steps forward, blocking your view, his voice lowering dangerously “Forget whatever you think you heard.”

You shake your head slightly, confusion and unease knotting inside you.

“What—”

He doesn’t let you finish “Actually,” He murmurs, a slow smirk curling on his lips, “You’re going to help me.”

Your brows furrow “Uh?”

Mike tilts his head “You’re going to tell Mother and Father that Hannah stole from you.”

Your breath catches “She what?”

“You’ll say you saw her sneaking out of your room with your jewelry,” He continues smoothly, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world “They’ll believe you.”

“Mike, no…” You whisper, horrified.

He leans in slightly, his presence suffocating “You will.”

You shake your head, stepping back “I won’t do that to her.”

His smirk vanishes in an instant. His hand shoots out, gripping your arm so tightly you wince.

“Yes, you will,” He says darkly. “Because if you don’t, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

You don’t sleep that night.

The next morning, Hannah is dragged out of the estate in tears.

And you watch, sick to your stomach, as your parents believe every word you say.

—

The school gates are buzzing with students leaving for the day, laughter and chatter filling the air. You step outside, slipping your phone into your bag when a soft voice stops you.

"Miss YN."

You blink, turning toward the sound.

And freeze, it's been months since the last time you saw her.

Hannah stands a few feet away, her hands nervously clasped in front of her. But that’s not what sends your heart plummeting to your stomach.

It’s the undeniable swell of her belly beneath her coat.

Your mind goes blank.

She shifts uncomfortably under your stare, glancing around as if making sure no one is watching.

“Can we talk?”

You don’t respond immediately, still trying to process what you’re seeing. Then, your fingers tighten around the strap of your bag, and you nod stiffly.

You lead her toward a quieter area near the entrance, away from the curious eyes of your classmates. The moment you stop walking, you cut straight to the point.

“You’re pregnant.” Your voice is eerily calm.

Hannah exhales, her shoulders sagging slightly “Yes.”

Your stomach churns “Is it—”

“I know Mike is in Germany now,” She interrupts before you can finish the question. “That’s why I came to see you.” She looks up, her expression conflicted. “I’m pregnant, Miss YN. Mike is the father.”

Your heart pounds violently against your ribs.

Hannah swallows hard, her voice quieter now, almost fragile “He doesn’t want anything to do with me. Or the baby.”

It feels like the ground beneath you is cracking, splitting open, revealing something dark and ugly you were never meant to see.

“That’s why he forced me to lie?”

The words slip past your lips before you can stop them. Your voice is barely above a whisper, but Hannah hears it.

Her brows furrow “What?”

Your chest tightens painfully “That’s why he made me say you stole from me?” You repeat, a bitter laugh escaping you. “Because he didn’t want to handle his mistake?”

Hannah’s lips part slightly. She looks shaken, her hands trembling.

“Miss YN… you did—”

“I didn’t want to,” You cut in, your throat tightening. “But he gave me no choice.”

A heavy silence stretches between you. Then Hannah speaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I never got rid of her.”

Your breath catches.

“What?”

Hannah exhales shakily, one hand instinctively pressing against her belly, as if shielding the life growing inside her.

“I couldn’t do it,” she whispers. Her eyes meet yours—raw, pleading, desperate. “I’m keeping her.”

The world tilts beneath your feet.

Oh, god.

Your throat tightens, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“Don’t worry,” You manage, though your voice barely holds steady. “I’ll help you.”

But the second the words leave your lips, reality crashes down like a tidal wave.

You’re only seventeen.

How the hell are you supposed to ask your parents for extra money without raising suspicion? How are you going to keep this a secret from them?

And most importantly…

What will Mike do if he finds out?

A shiver runs down your spine.

He will kill you.

If he ever finds out, he will fucking kill you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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

WE GOT ONE!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!

This was really good! Love the angst and the ending too. <3

You’re My Dream

౨ৎ PAIRING— rockstar!jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, ended relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.4k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you broke up because he was too focused on his music dream, but maybe you and love were the real dream all along.

౨ৎ A/N— i saw a lot of people saying they wanted a oneshot with the concept photos from the 2025 seasons greetings, so i made one! i hope you like it, even though it isn’t quite as angsty as you probably wanted :( still, feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3 (i’ll tag a few people who said they were interested if someone wrote one: @beabatiny, @goldendynastys, @kibs-and-bits)

Staring at the fire crackling, you try to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. When had it all gone so wrong?

Just last year, you had been enjoying your boyfriend’s Christmas show with his rock band, and now you’re sitting alone, the night before Christmas.

The crackling of the fire adds to your melancholy, the harsh cold winds blowing outside creating a gloomy atmosphere. You know you should forget like he has, but you can’t throw away two years of your life that easily.

The memories of last Christmas come flooding back to you, even as you try to suppress them. Memories of sitting beside the fire with Yunho, cuddling as you watched a cheesy Christmas movie. Or baking Christmas cookies together at his apartment, laughing as you threw flour at each other.

Turning to the remote controller, you press the power button, not expecting to see him on the screen. His band is playing, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest at the sight of him, his fingers dashing across the keyboard.

Even though he’s the keyboard player and not the lead singer, he has an air about him that draws you in, making it unable to look away, even as you know you should. Why is he still having this effect on you?

The song is one you recognize. “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call,” by Bleachers.

It’s a song he’d introduced to you last Christmas, and, even though it’s sad, it had been a source of joy for you in a way last year, because you remember dancing to the song with him, smiling and laughing.

Now, it really is sad.

When he gets up at the end of the song, leaning into the microphone, you furrow your eyebrows, listening.

“That song goes out to someone I lost a year ago today.” He looks right at the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish it had been different, but know that I never really stopped loving you.”

You gasp, only momentarily questioning if he’s really talking to you, before you jump up, now determined to make things right for some reason. You know it’ll probably end in more heartache, but you have to try.

Grabbing your keys and coat, you hurry out the door into the winter storm, unlocking your car before hopping in.

Even though the roads are horrible tonight, you know the way to his apartment like the back of your hand, only slowing because of the snow.

About twenty minutes later, you arrive at his apartment complex, hurrying out of the car, through the blinding snow, and into the lobby of the building.

You try to calm yourself down, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the fourth floor.

When you get to the floor, you walk down the hall, slowing to a stop in front of his door. Taking a deep breath, you knock.

It takes about two minutes, but the door opens, revealing a messy-haired Yunho, a few locks of his dark blue hair having fallen in front of his brown eyes, which widen at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his hand clutching the doorknob so tight you think he might break it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the program.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, you rub your arm, biting your lip, really starting to wonder what you’re really doing here yourself. “H-How have you been?”

“Is that really what you’re going to ask?” Yunho asks, giving you a half-smile.

“What else would I say?” you question softly, suddenly feeling stupid for coming to see him. “I can’t just say Merry Christmas or something stupid like I’ve missed you—“

“Can’t you?” he asks, his dark eyes searching yours. “Because I’ve missed you.”

Sighing, you frown slightly, “This can’t be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me just—“

He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, making your gaze snap back to his. “Every day without you has been torture. You came to see me for a reason. Do you feel the same?”

“Yunho, it doesn’t matter how we feel. It can’t work now anymore than it did then. We have different goals.”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, almost desperately. “I can’t give up the band if that’s what you want. You were upset it took up so much of my time? I’ll quit.”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “Yunho, the reason you couldn’t give it up for me before is because it’s what you love to do. I can’t take that away from you. I can’t make you live without it.”

“Well, I can’t live without you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, making you suck in a sharp breath, “Yunho…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yunho tells you, taking a single step closer. “Just tell me…”

“Tell you what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you feel?” he asks, just before he leans in, his face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as his warm breath fans across your lips. “If you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone.”

You’re torn between wanting to close the distance and knowing you shouldn’t.

You don’t have to wait for long.

It feels like the world stops when his soft lips brush against yours for the first time in months. It isn’t like an electric shock, with fireworks exploding, rather it’s like coming home after a long time away. Like warmth and softness and… love.

It only takes a few seconds for you to melt into him, the kiss deepening as he lifts his hands to cup your face, your hands finding his chest, his heartbeat quickens beneath yours fingertips.

After a few moments, he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly, waiting for you to respond.

“I wish I could say I felt nothing,” you whisper, feeling a little helpless against your emotions. “But I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

“Then give us another chance,” Yunho pleads, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “I meant what I said during the program. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“But what about the band? What about all the reasons we broke up months ago?”

“You and I both know we were being petty then. And I can quit the band, like I said,” Yunho replies, his tone serious.

“I don’t want you to,” you respond quietly, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks slowly, confusion etched into his features.

“I don’t want you to quit what you love,” you clarify. “That’s what ended things between us before. We quit on our love, and I won’t let you quit on the band now. I was stupid to think you loved me any less because of your passion for music. Please don’t stop playing, Yun.”

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly. “It’ll still take up as much time as it did before, maybe more, since we’ve grown a little more popular now.”

“I don’t care,” you smile softly. “All I care about is being with you again. And I won’t let my jealousy over your time get in the way again… as long as you let me come to your shows.”

“Every single one.”

With a small laugh, you lean forward, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before burying your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent you’ve missed so much.

“Maybe we should get out of the hallway?” Yunho chuckles, tugging your hand, guiding you into his apartment. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You smile shyly, nodding, as you let him close the door behind you both.

Three months later, you’re cheering for Yunho and his band as he performs, smiling widely when he finally comes backstage, his arms open as you laugh, throwing yourself into his arms for a hug. “You did so well, Yunnie,” you whisper in his ear.

He grins, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “Thank you, baby. You’re always the best cheerleader.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the fake tattoos on your hands either,” you tell him wryly, tracing the markings with your finger.

“Oh?” he asks, chuckling softly, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Maybe I’ll leave them on for a little while. And I’ll be sure to tell the stylist you like them.”

“Good,” you grin. “I’m good with anything now as long as you never tell me ‘please don’t call’ like you did last winter ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘛𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦! 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓆞 2 seater - @mingi-s-dimples yungi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ateez After A Concert - @mingwrites ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓆞 Ateez reacting to Jongho being a “grown man” - @atinydise ot8 x reader (reactions) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Texts When You Went To Another Idol's Concert - @jjoongstar ot8 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Between Two Hearts - @call-of-daydreams bf!sugar daddy!jongho x reader x bf!sugar daddy!mingi (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [ 02.18 ] - @yizhou-time prince!hongjoong x princess!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 12:30 - @atinyslittleworld idol!hongjoong x reader (timestamp) 𓆞 𓆞 After Hours - @jjoongstar bf!hongjoong x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Back Off, I'm Married! - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!hongjoong x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Both Pretty - @skzdust bf!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Day Of Sunshine - @mybelovedwoo non-idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Away With The Wind - @seongwars dragon rider!seonghwa x ex-dragon rider!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Biggest Flex - @daceydeath mafia!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Bite Me [Part One] [Part Two] - @atzloverr bf!vampire!seonghwa x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cravings - @dancinglikebutterflywings husband!seonghwa x pregnant!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 3:11 pm - @twilightzoneletters bf!yunho x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 A Curve Ball From The Past - @kpopcafeeee baseball star!dad!yunho x mom!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 All Of The Girls You Loved Before - @evandsolo bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Bookshop And Bourbon - @ja3hwa mafia!yunho x librarian!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Crave Me - @mingi-s-dimples bf!ceo!yunho x gf!model!reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Lot Like Love - @melodyanqe1 prince!yeosang x florist!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Warm Heart - @jjoongstar statue!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Cubicles - @/aflairforthejaz non-idol!yeosang x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Cured - @acupoftaewithsomesuga doctor!yeosang x nurse!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Divination - @daemour crown prince!yeosang x maid!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [3:00 PM] - @edenesth dad!san x mom!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 23:11 - @iannmin idol!san x idol!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 3:32 am - @/iannmin idol!san x idol!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Smile From Me To You - @yourlocaljonghoe bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 By My Side - @iannmin non-idol!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 00:00 - @iannmin newlywed!mingi x pregnant!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 B.A.S - @desirehorizon non-idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Brother - @hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf best friend's brother!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Dirty Little Secret | Our Dirty Little Secret - @xosannie sex worker!mingi x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Everything I Could Ever Wish For! - @makeitmingi dad!idol!mingi x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 4:15pm - @daceydeath idol!wooyoung x reader (timestamp) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Best Friend's Girl - @dancinglikebutterflywings best friend!wooyoung x reader ft.san (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Celebratory Fuck - @wooyoungmybelovedhusband baseball player!wooyoung x cheerleader!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Change Up - @skrrts non-idol!wooyoung x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Colours Of You - @ae-cow non-idol!wooyoung x optometrists!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 12:31 am - @minghaoslatina idol!jongho x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Far Away - @melodyanqel dad!huband!idol!jongho x mom!non-idol!wife!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Jongho is jealous and Wooyoung is the cause because of course he is - @redzie02 bf!jongho x gn!reader ft. wooyoung (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 In My Head - @callmeagardengnome idol!jongho x music producer!bartender!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Phone Call - @sweetiesicheng bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 

𓇼 𝐏𝟏𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐅𝐢𝐜 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𓇼 𓆞 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𓆞 𓇼 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬/𝐀𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬/𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𓇼 𓇼 𝐨𝐭𝟔/𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐬 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Another P1 Member Sends You A Photo Of Your P1 Boyfriend Trend - @vampirehoon ot6 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Call Me Maybe - @hksool ot6 x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hands Off - @/hrts4kyo bf!intak x reader x keeho (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hey, It's Me - @nishibons ot6 x reader (texts/thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 P1harmony And The Coquette Boyfriend Trend - @kisseobie ot6 x reader (reactions) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 P1harmony As your Bestfriends (Them Crushing On You) - @kyosopp ot6 x reader (headcanons) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐡𝐨 𓇼 𓆞 Baby All Mine - @joocomics streamer!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cinnamon Banana Pancakes - @kyufessions bf!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Close To You - @ldhluvr academic rival!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 I Told You To Stay Still - @ratedfleur non-idol!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Let Me Take Care Of You - @ohmyujins bf!keeho x reader (headcanons) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Taking Pictures In The Mirror - @seobslatina non-idol!keeho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨) 𓇼 𓆞 2Nite - @/hrts4kyo non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Be Better - @/348kg non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Don't Let Me Lose You - @junhannies non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Drive Me Crazy - @woobly non-idol!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 I Look At You Like You're Perfect For Me - @lily-blue half-dark elf!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Kiss It Off Me - @yyawnjun best friend!theo x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐣𝐢𝐮𝐧𝐠 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Are You Jealous - @ksnfangz best friend!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Backstage Visits - @sxfterhearts idol!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Butterflies (2 A.M. Version) - @playerninth non-idol!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cookies, Necklaces And Pigtails - @sxfterhearts non-idol!bf!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 First Love - @hksool bf!jiung x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Just Sleeping - @blue-jisungs idol!jiung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐤 𓇼 𓆞 Ace Racer - @sopestvr ace racer!bf!intak x reader (headcanon) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Chocolate Cake - @slytherinshua non-idol!intak x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Do Something - @asterr1sk non-idol!intak x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Downpour - @kyufessions non-idol!bf!intak x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 "Frat Boy Energy" - @greenlegsandspam idol!intak x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @catboyieejeno bf!intak x reader (headcanons) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐚 (𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥) 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 At Piece - @sugawhaaa bf!soul x keeho's sister!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Hair Dye - @soulseobie non-idol!soul x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 It's A Skill Issue - @random-potat best friend!soul x reader (text) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Let's Get Lost - @kyocakez idol!soul x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Nice To Meet You - @kyocakez non-idol!soul x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Purity And Its Presence In Growth - @sxtvrns idol!soul x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐛 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 All My Friends Know - @kyocakez non-idol!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Little Crush - @fullsunstrawberry idol!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Dying His Hair - @pinkbeanii non-idol!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Fanboy - @fullsunstrawberry idol!jongseob x youtuber!reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 (I Think I) Talk Too Much - @curiousgworge non-idol!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Jasmine - @kisseobie non-idol!jongseob x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

I love this series so for and I can’t wait to read more! <3

strangers by nature | ii

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: 6.4K Warnings: mingi being a mean brat, puppy antics, swearing, hints of infidelity, slight angst

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A hollow laugh escaped Mingi as he sped through the empty streets, the night blurring around him. The bitter sound echoed in the car, mirroring the anger swirling inside him. He could still see the look on your face, that fierce, unyielding defiance in your eyes as you’d confronted him without a trace of hesitation.

"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”

You hadn’t raised your voice, hadn’t even looked angry. But the certainty in your words had cut deeper than anything he could remember. You’d said it so effortlessly, without a shred of remorse or regret, like you hadn’t given his ego a second thought.

And it infuriated him. 

Mingi was accustomed to people bending to his will, not challenging it. His life had always been cushioned by entitlement; his family’s wealth and influence ensured that. People smiled, nodded, and let him have his way—whether it was his colleagues, teachers, or anyone who understood the weight of the Song name. When he wanted something, he got it; when he didn't want something, someone else made it disappear. Life was simple, easy. Predictable.

He’d assumed you’d be no different. The arrangement your parents had orchestrated was supposed to be convenient, uncomplicated. You’d go along with it quietly, play your part, and leave him to live as he pleased.

But he’d been wrong. Terribly, wrong.

From the moment you entered his life, you were a force to be reckoned with—unyielding and resolute, unafraid to show how little you cared for the life planned for you. 

News of your attempted escape had reached him before he even saw you. You’d made it as far as the airport, ticket in hand, your heart set on a life free from the restraints of duty. But then, your parents intervened, having anticipated your plans. They’d sent the authorities to intercept you at the gate, dragging you back home just as freedom was within reach.

You argued, you bargained, and you did everything short of bolting a second time as they walked you into that boardroom on your wedding day. Mingi had been there, watching as you approached, and even in that moment, you’d made it clear through your narrowed gaze and rigid posture that you were entering this marriage under protest.

Though you resisted the marriage and all it represented, you held a deep sense of empathy for him, understanding that he too was bound by this fate. Your efforts to extend an olive branch and build some semblance of a friendship, only served as a reminder of how deeply entangled your lives had become against his will.

And Mingi always made it clear that no matter how much you tried to extend kindness or bridge the distance, he was set on tearing it down.

When your parents organized a small birthday dinner for you, Mingi didn’t even bother to show. He didn’t call, didn’t text—he simply forgot. The sting of his absence felt like a gut punch, even if it was hardly surprising. His indifference when you mentioned it later was almost worse. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” he shrugged, barely glancing up from his phone, his tone cool, unaffected. The casual dismissal in his voice, the complete lack of apology, was almost worse than his absence itself. 

The implication was clear: your birthday, and by extension, you, were not significant enough to be remembered.

It wasn’t until later, when meeting your cousin Jongho for lunch, that the truth hit even harder. Apparently, he’d heard from a friend of a friend that Ahri had posted on social media about her “spontaneous Tokyo getaway” with Mingi, complete with photos of their cozy seats on a private plane and playful captions flaunting their lavish trip. 

Then, there was the night San hosted his charity art auction, one of the biggest events of the year. It was the kind of evening meant to bring people together for a good cause, filled with artists and patrons, all of them dedicated to supporting the community. 

But Mingi had a different idea in mind. He arrived with Ahri, both of them looking effortlessly stunning and either blissfully unaware or fully conscious of the painful message they conveyed. Your in-laws were mortified, apologizing to you profusely, trying to smooth over the spectacle their son had created.

“When will you grow up and stop making a mockery of our family?” Mr. Song fumed through gritted teeth. 

"I thought we had a deal," Mingi replied coldly. "All I had to do was agree to this arrangement, and I could still have Ahri and live my life however I wanted."

Mr. Song’s face tightened with rage, his voice a low growl as he struggled to keep it down. 

“What I meant, Mingi, was for you to show some tact! Not to flaunt Ahri around and humiliate your spouse in front of everyone. It’s childish, and it reflects poorly on you. The least you can do is respect Y/N!”

“Respect Y/N?” Mingi scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Respecting her would mean pretending it’s something real. But we all know why this is happening—more money and more power for you. None of this has anything to do with me or what I want.”

“You may resent it, but you are benefiting from it all the same. And that means you owe Y/N some basic decency, if nothing else.”

“This arrangement took my choices away. It trapped me in a life I never wanted. And now you’re telling me to be grateful for it? To pretend that this marriage means something to me?”

“When will you stop being selfish and think about others for once? Consider that Y/N never asked for this either.”

As if disregarding you in private wasn’t enough, Mingi took every chance to publicly humiliate you, constantly reminding you of your place—always on the outside, looking in.

The situation reached a boiling point at last year’s Gold Gala when he arrived completely drunk, blatantly reinforcing that your feelings and the event's social grace meant nothing to him.

As he staggered through the hall, his laugh rang out too loudly, drawing stares from guests who exchanged uncomfortable glances. His gestures grew more careless and exaggerated with every passing moment, completely oblivious to the hurt on your face, tainting one of the most important nights of your life.

“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts.”

“I’m not here to support her, she begged me to be here. Begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”

By the time you arrived home, the tension was suffocating. You could still feel the embarrassment, lingering on you like a second skin you couldn’t escape.

“Don’t kid yourself into thinking this arrangement means anything. You're nobody to me.”

"Of course I know that!” The words flew out before you could stop yourself, raw and jagged. “All I asked was for you to be there because this event meant everything to me. Everything!" 

"I thought we could at least be civil, Mingi.”

“Civil?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with disdain. "You’re so desperate to play house, to fool yourself into thinking I’ll somehow feel something for you? By begging for it?" 

His gaze was cold, dismissive, as if you were nothing more than a stranger who had intruded into his life, uninvited.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer audacity of his words. Who was this pompous prick, standing here acting as if you’d imposed your existence on him? The last thread holding your patience snapped, and before you knew it, a dry, humorless laugh escaped you.

“Feel something?” you spat, unable to hold back the fury building in your chest. 

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re a catch either. Think whatever you want,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unwavering, “but I’m not the one who needs someone else to validate my worth!”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, his expression shifting as he tried to brush off your words with a sneer. But you could tell that something you’d said had struck a nerve.

“You’ve never cared about anything, Mingi. You don’t even know what it means to care about someone or something—because you’ve always had everything handed to you. There’s nothing that’s ever been meaningful to you because you’ve never had to fight for it!”

It infuriated Mingi—the way you exposed all the things he hated most about himself, holding a mirror up to the person he tried so hard to ignore. And that was something he couldn’t allow. He needed to keep you at a distance, to shut you down. 

Because if he didn't, he feared you might penetrate his defenses entirely—and he couldn't risk that.

As he sat in the warm, soapy water, Mingi’s tiny paws barely poked out from beneath a cloud of bubbles. He lifted a paw, watching droplets fall into the water, creating soft ripples that lapped against his sides. It was surreal. He had once scoffed at the very idea of being anything less than in control, of ever letting himself be so openly…helpless.

Everything looked bigger, more intimidating from down here and he felt smaller, more than he ever had.

Your gentle laughter pulled him back as you poured a bit more soap into the bath, sending a fresh wave of bubbles his way. You dipped your hand into the water, playfully scooping up the suds and sprinkling them over his head. 

He wiggled, instinctively shaking his head as the bubbles landed, but they clung stubbornly to his nose and ears, making him sneeze. The tiny sneeze seemed to amuse you even more, your laughter ringing out, warm and unguarded.

“We’ll find something for you to eat after this. Do you like chicken?” you cooed, your voice warm and sweet as you continued fussing over him. “That reminds me, we need to stop by the pet store.”

Mingi blinked up at you, the sound of your voice oddly comforting, even as it filled him with a peculiar ache he didn’t quite know what to do with. Here you were, utterly unaware that this tiny, scruffy puppy was your own husband, yet you treated him with a care and tenderness he felt he didn't deserve.

“I should probably think of a name for you,” you murmured thoughtfully, rinsing away the last bits of sudsy bubbles. 

His little face scrunched up as he shook his head, sending droplets flying. You grabbed the softest towel, bundling him up so that only his nose and eyes peeked out. Placing him on the bathroom counter, you noticed how his tiny body almost disappeared within the towel’s folds, leaving just a pair of adoring eyes staring up at you.

“You’re so tiny, you might get blown away!” you teased, testing the warmth of the hair dryer on your wrist. His expression turned into the cutest scowl imaginable, as if he was about to bark out a protest.

I’m not little! Mingi gritted, scrunching his tiny brows and squirming as if to show you he was tougher than he looked. He let out a bark, to prove you wrong.

“Alright, sorry, I didn’t mean it,” you giggled. 

You began to gently dry him, moving the warm air over his fur. His eyelids started to droop, each puff of warm air lulling him into a sleepy daze. 

“Pom Pom’s a cute name. What do you think?” you mused with a laugh, scratching him behind his tiny ear. Mingi managed to huff out a small whimper in protest in an attempt to communicate that you certainly were not to call him by that name. 

“Fine, fine. How about…Maro? You’re white and fluffy like a marshmallow?” You tilted your head, smiling as you gently tapped the tip of his nose.

Mingi grumbled, feeling his pride melt under the sheer humiliation, but he went along with the name. Despite his desire to resist, he couldn’t deny the comfort of being doted on—even if it meant accepting his temporary fate as your “Maro.”

Mingi stirred awake, feeling an unfamiliar warmth against his tiny body, the soft texture of grass beneath him. Blinking his eyes open, he was met with a new world—everything was…bigger. The trees stretched toward the sky, and the distant hum of city life felt overwhelming. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his mind struggling to adjust to this small, delicate form.

Everything smelled sharper, richer: the earthy scent of wet grass, a faint whiff of antiseptic, and…something achingly familiar, pulling him forward as if his paws moved on their own accord.

Guided by the scent, he scrambled over roots and pushed through damp bushes, his little body squeezing through the brambles. As he finally emerged on the other side, he froze. Just a few feet away, sitting alone on a bench, was the source of the familiar scent—Y/N?

His wife sat there, hands clasped tightly, her gaze distant and tired, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. But just as he took another small step forward, her eyes lifted and fell upon him. Her expression brightened, and the faintest hint of a smile warmed her face as she crouched down, reaching out to him.

“Puppy!” she gasped with an excitement that Mingi could feel down to his little paws. She beckoned him closer, and he trotted toward her, heart racing, wondering if somehow, even in this form, she could recognize him.

You held him close as you left the hospital, your hand gently supporting his back as he rested against your chest. Once you reached the car, you eased into the driver’s seat and settled him in your lap, feeling his soft fur beneath your fingers as you stroked him reassuringly.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your contacts until you reached your mother-in-law’s number. Taking a steadying breath, you hit the call button, hoping she’d understand your exit.

"Hello? Everything alright, Y/N?"

“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading home,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “There are a few things I need to take care of, but I’ll make sure to call later to check in.”

There was a brief pause on her end before she answered, “Of course, dear. Take your time, I’ll talk to you later.”

As you ended the call, Mingi blinked up at you, feeling strangely vulnerable in your arms. Being held and cherished like this was both comforting and overwhelming, a rare moment of intimacy that left him feeling exposed. The realization that someone could care for him so deeply stirred something inside him—a reminder of just how unfamiliar this feeling was, and how unsettling it felt to let someone in.

“Ready to go home?”

On the drive back, you hummed a quiet tune, the same one you always sang absentmindedly when you thought no one was listening. As he nestled into your lap, he felt himself relax, leaving behind a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in ages.

The bell above the pet store door jingled as you stepped inside, your eyes scanning aisles lined with every kind of pet accessory imaginable.

You wandered the aisles in a daze as Mingi, in his puppy form, bounced excitedly, his tiny tail whipping back and forth with unrestrained enthusiasm. His instincts urged him to sniff and mouth every item you tossed into the cart—toys, treats, leashes, a bed, and a sweater.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief—shopping for puppy supplies while your husband’s life was hanging by a thread was surreal.

“Your puppy’s really cute.”

You turned to see a man holding onto the leash of a doberman that looked every bit as sharp as its owner. The dog sat obediently by his side, dark eyes focused and alert, muscles taut beneath its sleek coat. The man’s presence was striking, especially with his stoic demeanor that made him appear almost statuesque.

“Thanks!” you nodded, smiling. “He’s really sweet, even if he’s got a bit of an attitude.” Your eyes drifted to the gentle way his hand stroked between the doberman’s ears. 

“You look like you know what you’re doing, though.”

The man chuckled. “Thanks, he’s actually my first dog. I adopted him when his previous owner passed away. His name is Hetmon.”

Your expression softened. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied sympathetically, kneeling down to greet him. 

“Can I say hi?” you asked, extending your hand for Hetmon to sniff.

The doberman’s wet nose pressed against your palm, and he let out a soft huff before nuzzling his head into your hand. You laughed, scratching him behind his ear, marveling at his calm and steady temperament. 

Now, hold on! Mingi’s eyes snapped up as he watched you fawning over this stranger’s dog. His little heart thudded, an unfamiliar surge of irritation bubbling up inside him. 

Why are you smiling like that? Why are you speaking to another man? Get away from him!

He let out a little growl, then puffed up his tiny chest and erupted into a string of yappy barks, standing tall on his hind legs in the cart. His little nose scrunched up as he tried to look intimidating, but it was more endearing than anything else. You glanced over, bemused, as he glowered with all the fierceness his tiny form could muster.

“I think your puppy is upset,” the man pointed out with a chuckle.

“Aww, don’t worry, Maro,” you cooed, “you’re still my favorite.” 

You scooped him up, planting a kiss right between his ears, which sent his little tail wagging against his will. You set him down gently on the floor, letting him meet Hetmon face-to-face. Mingi’s bravado wavered slightly as he looked up at the towering Doberman, but he squared his tiny shoulders, refusing to back down.

“Is Hetmon good with other dogs?” you asked, watching them carefully.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a total softie,” the man reassured you. “He may look tough, but he loves making new friends.”

As if on cue, Hetmon dipped into a playful bow. Mingi froze, watching the giant dog before him as he lowered his head in an exaggerated invitation to play. For a moment, the puppy tried to keep his air of superiority, giving a tiny huff as if he wasn’t the least bit interested.

But then he gave a low, friendly woof and Mingi’s puppy instincts kicked in. He took a tentative step forward, then another, his own tail starting to sway. Before he knew it, he pounced forward with his little paws outstretched, mimicking Hetmon’s play bow.

“Maro, you made a friend!” you cheered, watching in delight as the puppy bounced around with the older dog. Pulling out your phone, you couldn’t resist capturing the moment, captivated by the unlikely friendship forming before you.

“Looks like opposites attract,” Hetmon’s owner mused as he watched the two dogs circle each other, darting forward and bouncing back and forth.

“I’m Yeosang, by the way,” he added, turning to you with a friendly smile.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Nice to meet you. Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, just a couple of streets over,” Yeosang said with a nod. He looked down at Hetmon, who was now reclining on his back, seemingly unfazed by the puppy climbing on him. 

“What about you?”

You smiled, watching the scene with amusement. “Same. Maro’s also my first dog, so I’ve been figuring things out as I go.”

Yeosang’s expression softened, his smile encouraging. “I remember that feeling. It’s a little overwhelming at first, but you get the hang of it. If you ever need any advice or a friendly ear, just reach out. There’s a park nearby that’s dog-friendly. I usually go there in the mornings if you’d like to join sometime.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks.”

Yeosang's easygoing grin faltered as he felt a tug at his shoelace. He looked down to see the tiny pup gnawing determinedly, jaws snapping at the string.

How dare you speak to her so casually! She’s a married woman! Mingi seethed internally, giving the string another sharp tug. Why did it bother him so much to see Yeosang chatting with you? He hadn't cared much about you before, but seeing you smile at another man so naturally baffled him.

What is wrong with me? He let out a low growl—though intended to be intimidating—would have been menacing if he weren’t so tiny. Right now, all he wanted was for Yeosang to take a step back, to stop talking to you like you belonged to anyone else but him—even though he couldn't say why.

“Maro, what are you up to?” you laughed, crouching down to pick him up. You slipped your hands beneath his belly, lifting him gently. But Mingi wasn’t done making his point. 

Nestled in your arms, Mingi twisted slightly, nudging your left hand insistently with his head. He pressed his nose right against your ring, his puppy eyes wide with urgency. 

See this? She’s taken! He gave a little huff and looked back at Yeosang with the tiniest scowl he could manage.

Yeosang, oblivious to the true intentions behind the pup’s actions, chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s tired. Puppies need lots of sleep, you know.”

“Sounds like someone needs a nap,” you agreed, gently setting the little ball of jealousy back into the cart.

"Oh, before I go," Yeosang continued, reaching into his pocket, "here's my number."

Mingi’s ears perked up, and his tail stopped wagging immediately. If he could talk, he’d be grumbling a thousand complaints. But instead, he glared up at Yeosang, hoping his intense puppy stare would get his message across: Back off.

⋆

The last twenty-four hours had been nothing short of a whirlwind: the accident, waking up in a completely different form, and now trying to adjust to this strange new reality. He was still Mingi, still aware of his responsibilities and tasks, but now he had to figure out how to accomplish them…as a puppy.

He padded around the penthouse, his tiny paws making soft clicks on the polished floor as he aimlessly wandered, bored out of his mind now that you were both back from the pet store. The excitement of the outing had quickly worn off, and now all he could do was sulk in the silence of the house.

His little tail swished back and forth as he circled the living room, kitchen, your piano, and the second floor of the penthouse. Finally, his gaze landed on the door to his room. A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes, and with a determined wag of his tail, he marched toward it.

You paced around the living room, contemplating how to propose your idea to your mother-in-law: staying overnight once a week with Mingi. The thought of him spending nights alone in the suite, surrounded only by machines, unsettled you. He wasn't exactly your biggest fan—he’d made it clear where his heart truly lay, and it wasn’t with you. Yet, the notion of someone always being there, watching over him, brought you a small measure of comfort amid the uncertainty.

As the worry gnawed at you, you knew you had to act. Taking a deep breath, you picked up the phone and dialed your mother-in-law.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me,” you said, doing your best to sound composed. “I just got back from running errands and wanted to propose something.”

Her voice carried that usual guarded curiosity. “What are you suggesting?”

You respected your mother-in-law’s loyalty to her family, even if her protectiveness sometimes blinded her to Mingi’s faults. She had always been gracious to you, maintaining a sense of decorum that made you feel welcome but not entirely at ease. 

“I thought we could work out a schedule to stay overnight with Mingi at the hospital.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke, her voice carefully polite. “You’re very thoughtful, dear,” she began, “but…maybe it’s not necessary to stay all night. The nurses are attentive, and they promised to call us if anything changes.”

You glanced around the penthouse, searching for Maro, who had slipped away at some point. The quiet absence of the dog only added to the heavy silence, making the place feel even emptier.

“I have full confidence in his care team,” you replied, forcing each word into a polite, measured tone. 

“But I think Mingi would feel more supported if someone were there with him, at least some of the time. I was thinking I could stay overnight once or twice a week? Just so he doesn’t feel…forgotten.”

Mrs. Song paused just a moment, enough for you to feel that familiar flicker of hope—maybe she’d feel the same worry, feel something for her son that went deeper than surface-level appearances. 

But when she spoke, her words rang hollow. “Are you sure?” She hesitated, as if weighing how much emotion to offer before she could close herself off again. “I don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

“I’m sure. And I’ll take care of myself, I promise,” you replied, careful to keep any bitterness out of your voice.

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no one he’d be happier to see than you when he wakes up.”

You let the comment hang in the air, refraining from answering. The truth was far more complicated—it wasn’t about who Mingi wanted to see. It was about reminding him he wasn’t completely abandoned, despite how much he’d tried to push you away.

Murmuring a quick goodbye, you ended the call and let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, feeling a strange relief as the line clicked dead.

Standing in the quiet of the penthouse, you wondered how it was possible to care so deeply and feel so estranged at the same time. You exhaled slowly, taking a moment to let the frustration settle before setting off to find Maro, hoping the small presence of the dog might be the comfort you needed.

Mingi paused in front of the door, cocking his head and giving it a long, assessing look. The handle was far out of reach, far higher than any normal dog could ever hope to reach. 

With a huff, he pressed his tiny front paws against the door, trying to push and pull with all his might. When that failed, he gave up entirely on the handle and decided on a new strategy: digging.

He squatted down, wiggling his little rear end before he thrust his paws forward in an exaggerated motion, trying to dig under the door. His tiny claws scrabbled uselessly at the polished floor, making little scratching noises that seemed comically futile against the sleek, smooth surface.

He stopped for a moment, eyes narrowing in concentration, before he gave it another go—this time, with more vigor, his body wriggling in earnest as though the door might just give way if he showed it enough determination.

“Maro? What are you doing?” you asked, catching sight of the fluffball nosing determinedly at Mingi’s bedroom door.

He froze, glancing back at you with wide, innocent eyes, but his resolve didn’t waver. He turned back to the door, his eyes narrowing as if silently pleading with it to just open. 

You stifled a laugh at his antics. “Sorry, baby boy, but that room’s off limits.”

Your life with Mingi had been defined by boundaries—drawn lines, quiet distances, and spaces kept respectfully separate. Separate rooms, separate lives, and a marriage in name only. The closed door was a boundary, one you’d both agreed to uphold.

But it’s my room! He insisted with a bark of protest, his frustration evident. He didn’t want the carefully arranged, supposedly comfortable dog bed that sat innocently by the window. He wanted his own room, his own bed, and his own space.

“I don’t think Mingi would appreciate it if I let you in there,” you added wistfully.

Mingi could sense something in your voice—a sadness buried beneath your usual composed demeanor. His ears perked as he tilted his head, studying the way your shoulders slumped just slightly, the way your eyes lingered on the closed door before looking away. 

In that moment, he recognized that despite the walls between you, you were still here, trying to make the best of a life shaped by distance.

Letting out a small, resigned huff, he slowly padded over to the dog bed by the window, casting one last longing look at the door. Then, in a dramatic display, he flopped onto his back with a sigh, his little paws stretching up into the air, his fluffy belly exposed, hoping it might coax even the smallest smile from you.

Mingi wasn’t thrilled about giving up his room, but he figured if he could cheer you up—even a little—it was worth it. Because he knew, perhaps more than he wanted to admit, how lonely it must be for you, living in a world of closed doors.

"Thanks so much for meeting us here!" you greeted Yeosang warmly, handing him a cup of hot chocolate. His eyes lit up with a grateful smile as he accepted it, glancing down at Hetmon, who was already bouncing in place with excitement.

“No worries at all! I did say I’d be happy to answer any questions about dogs,” Yeosang replied, his gaze shifting to Maro, who sat at your feet, fixated on what would come next in your conversation.

You knelt down, scratching Maro gently behind his ears as the weight of your question settled in your chest. A tightness formed in your throat, and you hesitated, glancing up at Yeosang.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something…a little more serious, if that’s okay.”

Yeosang’s face softened, his usual bright energy shifting to a gentle calm as he took in your expression. His caring demeanor radiated warmth, an almost tangible reassurance that everything would be alright. 

“Of course,” he replied, his voice soft but encouraging. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

You unhooked Mingi from the leash, giving him a gentle nudge forward. “Go on, Maro,” you encouraged, motioning toward Hetmon, who was practically vibrating, his tail whipping the air behind him like a propeller.

"Hey, do you wanna play chase?" Hetmon asked eagerly, prancing in a tight circle around Mingi.

"We can also play fetch! My dad brought my favorite ball!"

But Mingi sat firmly in place, his tiny body angled away from Hetmon, focused entirely on your conversation with Yeosang. He narrowed his eyes, stubbornly ignoring the playful advances. As far as he was concerned, Yeosang’s angelic demeanor deserved the highest level of suspicion.

“No,” the puppy pouted, his voice stubborn and unmoving.

Undeterred, Hetmon scooted closer, nudging Mingi’s side with his nose. "Come on, just one game! I’ll even let you catch me!" He bounced in front of Mingi, crouching low in an exaggerated play bow, his tail wagging furiously.

Mingi huffed, his small body stiffening as he resisted the pull of Hetmon’s enthusiasm. He cast the doberman a sidelong glare that would’ve been intimidating—if he were anything bigger than a fluffball.

"No, I want to stay here," Mingi grumbled. "Your father is trying to hit on my wife."

Hetmon tilted his head, blinking with wide-eyed innocence. "That can’t be your wife; she’s not a dog. She’s your mom."

Mingi’s tiny temper flared, but he reminded himself he was dealing with someone with the mental equivalent of a toddler.

"Look, I don’t expect you to understand, but she’s my wife. If I tell you what happened, would you leave me alone?"

Hetmon sat back, pausing thoughtfully, his tail still wagging. "Okay, I’ll listen!”

Mingi sighed, rolling his eyes as if explaining was a chore. "Alright, so before I got...uh, transformed," he said, waving a paw at his small, fluffy body with obvious disdain, 

"I was married to Y/N. Then I got into a car accident."

Hetmon’s eyes went wide with awe, tail wagging in anticipation. "So… you died and became a dog?"

"No!" Mingi barked, his chest puffed. "I was transformed into one because I did bad things.” The words came out quietly, almost like a confession, and he glanced away, embarrassed. 

“I have three months to complete three tasks, or else I’m stuck like this… forever."

Hetmon tilted his head, his big eyes full of innocent curiosity as he tried to wrap his mind around Mingi’s words. He watched Mingi for a moment, then his tail gave a tentative wag.

“What do you have to do? Can I help?” Hetmon asked eagerly. 

“My dad says we always have to help friends!”

Friends. The word stung more than Mingi expected, a sudden reminder of how few people he truly trusted or felt close to. Yunho was really his only friend, the one person he could count on without question. 

He shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts drifting to the tight circle of people he called acquaintances: the other Choi’s, the son of Park Enterprises… all hand-picked connections meant to strengthen his family’s standing, but none of those relationships had ever felt genuine. 

Had he done this on purpose? Had he pushed people away to keep himself safe, to avoid the risk of betrayal or disappointment? Maybe he’d chosen solitude to protect himself from the sting of being left behind—but he hadn’t expected it to feel so empty now, as he sat here realizing that even a dog like Hetmon was willing to reach out with kindness.

“Okay, well...I guess,” Mingi sighed. 

You swallowed hard, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup as you fought to steady yourself. The sunlight hit your wedding ring, casting a soft glow over the diamonds—a gleaming, constant reminder of the life you were bound to. In a way, it felt more like a chain. Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. 

“My…husband was in a really bad car wreck the other night. He’s in a coma right now,” you said, the words thick and heavy, as if each one were being forced out. 

The reality of it all settled in the air between you and Yeosang, and you could feel his compassion in the way he listened to you. His brow creased with concern as he took in your words, his quiet presence urging you to press on.

“I’ve made arrangements to spend at least one night a week at the hospital,” you continued, forcing yourself to look down at your cup rather than meet his eyes. 

“It’s hard to explain, but I guess I don’t want him to be…alone, even if he can’t really tell.”

Your voice trailed off as a feeling of helplessness welled up within you. You wanted to believe that Mingi could somehow sense your presence, that maybe your being there would make even a small difference. But at the same time, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your visits might mean more to you than they did to him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s a lot to carry. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. But you’re doing your best to be there for him, even when it’s painful.”

You felt a slight relief in his understanding, in the way he didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of Yeosang’s empathy. 

“I also don’t mean to impose but…would you mind letting Maro stay over just one night a week? Until I figure things out?” you asked sheepishly. “He’s still so little, and I don’t want him to feel abandoned while I’m gone.”

“Of course, Y/N, don't feel bad for asking!” Yeosang nodded enthusiastically.

“Maro will be in great hands, I promise. I know Hetmon would love having him over! It’ll be like…boys' night, and I can build a fort for them, we can eat snacks…”

Yeosang’s eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as he spoke, his infectious energy making you smile despite your concerns. He had a knack for making the most mundane plans sound like grand adventures, and his lighthearted spirit was always a comforting presence.

The unexpected kindness caught you off guard, causing your shoulders to relax.

“Really?” you murmured, struggling to believe that someone truly understood and wanted to help in such a straightforward yet meaningful way.

“You're dealing with so much right now. I'm glad to help, even if it's small.” For a moment, you felt a lump rise in your throat, the weight of his words grounding you in a world that often felt chaotic and uncertain.

“You don’t have to face all this on your own,” Yeosang added, his words carrying a depth that felt like a lifeline. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hetmon barreling across the grassy field, with Maro bounding right behind him as they zig-zagged through the park. The sight of the two playing together made you smile.

“Hetmon, come have some water!” Yeosang called out. 

The doberman’s ears perked up, and he shifted course, galloping toward his owner, excited for his water break. Maro, bounded after him, and hopped up onto your lap, nuzzling into your arms.

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

What!?

Mingi’s gaze darted from you to Yeosang, then to Hetmon, who was still wagging his tail, blissfully unaware of the turmoil stirring inside him.

Despite his best efforts to stay aloof and independent, he had come to rely on your presence—the warmth, the comfort, and the steady sense of grounding you brought to his strange new world. The thought of being without that, even for just a night, filled him with something he was unwilling to admit to himself: fear.

<< i | iii >>

a/n: ughhh my taglist is ugly, I can't tag more than 5 blogs to a line now, so forgive me for the formatting

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

Dude…let’s kill Mike

I’M SICK OF THIS MAN I SWEAR!

CHAPTER STARTED OFF SO CUTE WITH READER AND HONGJOONG GOING ON A DATE AND NOW I CAN FEEL IT SENSE THAT JOONG GONNA SHOW UP AT A DIFFERENT VENUE AND READER GONNA BE UPSET AHHHHHHHH

We need to kill Mike we gotta stop him i’m so serious i need reader or someone to hit him if future chapters preferably i want reader to hit him

moving on, I’m excited for the next part even thought it’s literally titled "the first breakdown" and i just know i’m gonna feel sad for reader more than I already do especially after this chapter

keep up the amazing work! <3

Popular, Boy

☆06: The first move.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 10,8k

Summary: You and Hongjoong grow closer, but in your world, trust is a dangerous thing. Mike's cruelty lingers, and in the shadows, a plan unfolds... One designed to break you.

Break your heart, and make you question everything... especially Hongjoong.

Warnings: Verbal abuse, past trauma (?), power dynamics, fluff, suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆05 ☆07: The first breakdown.

The low rumble of the engine fills the quiet evening air as you glance out the window. The car is nothing like the sleek, expensive vehicles sitting in your family’s garage. It’s modest, a little old, and the faint smell of worn leather lingers in the air.

“You borrowed this from your dad?” You ask, raising an eyebrow as you turn to Hongjoong.

He shrugs, his hands gripping the steering wheel with a mix of focus and nervousness. “Yeah. Figured it’s better than taking the bus.”

The bus? Hell no, you have never been in one and you hope it never happens.

You glance at him, a small, amused smirk playing on your lips. The whole thing is… endearing in a way you don’t expect.

“So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” You cross your legs and adjust your pink leather jacket.

“Nope.” His lips quirk into a smile, but he keeps his eyes on the road “Just sit back and enjoy the ride, pretty.”

You roll your eyes but don’t press further. There’s something about his excitement that keeps your curiosity piqued.

When the car finally comes to a stop, you step out and immediately catch the sound of distant laughter and the faint scent of fried food in the air. Turning toward the neon-lit entrance ahead, your brows knit together.

“An amusement park?” Your voice is tinged with surprise.

Hongjoong steps around to your side, his hands in his pockets and a slightly nervous look on his face.

“You said you’d never been to one, so…” He gestures toward the brightly lit rides.

You glance down at your outfit—high heel boots, a sleek skirt, and your leather jacket—then back at him.

“And you didn’t think to mention that I might want to dress for this?”

He grins, his nervousness fading into a playful confidence “You’ll be fine. You look beautiful and you could rock a runway in a park if you wanted to.”

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile “Fine. Lead the way.”

The ticket booth is up ahead, and you instinctively reach for your purse, already accustomed to paying for yourself—and for others. But before you can even unzip it, Hongjoong steps forward, pulling out his wallet.

“Two adults, please.” He says, handing over the cash.

You blink, momentarily stunned. People don’t usually pay for you. They just assume you’ll foot the bill, given your family’s wealth. But here Hongjoong is, without hesitation, handling everything.

“Thanks.” You say, your voice softer than usual.

He shoots you a small, reassuring smile “It’s a date, isn’t it?”

The park is alive with energy—bright lights, music, and the unmistakable hum of excitement in the air. You’re not sure what to expect, but as the night unfolds, you find yourself swept up in the moment.

Hongjoong pulls you from ride to ride, his enthusiasm contagious. You scream on the roller coasters, laugh uncontrollably on the spinning teacups, and you surprise yourself by enjoying the bumper cars, laughing uncontrollably as Hongjoong tried—and failed—to outmaneuver you.

Hongjoong made a great effort to win a small stuffed bunny at one of the carnival games, he handed it to you with a triumphant grin.

“For you,” He says, holding it out.

“Seriously?” You ask, but there is no hiding the smile that tug at your lips “It’s so tacky.”

“Tacky but adorable, just like you.” He counters with a pretty smile.

And you find yourself clutching the fluffy bunny tightly as you continue through the park.

At the snack stand, you try to insist on paying, but Hongjoong beats you to it again, handing over the cash before you can protest.

“You’re really committed to this, huh?” You tease.

He shrugs, offering you a bag of popcorn “I like treating you. You’re worth it.”

The words catch you off guard, leaving a strange warmth in their wake. You look at him, the boyish grin on his face, and wonder how he can be so… genuine.

As the day turns into evening, the park’s lights flicker on, casting a magical glow over everything. You stand in line for the carousel, the soft music adding a nostalgic charm.

You climb into one of the ornate horses, your laughter echoing as Hongjoong chooses the one beside you.

“You’re having fun, admit it.” He says, his voice filled with mock accusations.

You tilt your head, a playful smirk on your lips “Maybe a little.”

The carousel begins to move, and for a moment, you let yourself get lost in the moment. The weight of your pride, your fears, and the persona you had carefully crafted seems to fade.

It’s just you and Hongjoong, spinning in a world that feels oddly perfect.

As the evening wears on, you realize something else—you’re having fun. Real, uncomplicated fun. It’s a feeling you’re not used to, and it’s equal parts exhilarating and terrifying.

When you finally board the Ferris wheel, the city sprawls out below you, glittering in the night. The car sways gently, and Hongjoong’s arm rests casually on the back of your seat.

“You’ve been quiet,” He glances at you “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitate, your fingers toying with the hem of your jacket “I guess… I’m not used to this.”

“To what?”

“To someone doing all of this just for me.” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks at you, his expression softening “You deserve it, pretty. All of it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, unsure of how to respond. The gnawing doubt in the back of your mind refuses to let go.

What if this isn’t real? What if he’s just playing along, trying to climb some invisible ladder to the top?

The Ferris wheel car rocks gently as it halts at the top, giving you a perfect view of the glowing amusement park below. The world feels smaller up here, the laughter and music from the park blending into a soft hum. But your focus isn’t on the view.

Hongjoong’s hand brushes against yours, hesitant yet deliberate “YN,” He begins, his voice soft but firm, breaking the fragile silence. You turn to him, caught off guard by the serious tone in his voice “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” His eyes locking onto yours “Something I should’ve said a long time ago.”

You blink, unsure of where he’s going with this “What is it?”

He exhales deeply, running a hand through his hair “Do you remember the first time we met? On the first day of college?”

You frown slightly, trying to recall “I remember you asking me for a pen and I told you not to speak to me again and get lost.” Both of you chuckle at the memory “You were… different back then.”

He smiles faintly, though there’s a sadness to it “I was, and I remember everything about that moment. How you walked into the lecture hall like you owned the place, and every single person in the room noticed you. Including me.”

You tilt your head, curious now.

“I knew I didn’t stand a chance,” He continues, his voice quiet “You were… YN. Popular, beautiful, confident—everything I wasn’t. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I guess, in some way, I thought if I could change myself, maybe you’d notice me.”

“Change yourself?” You echo, your brow furrowing.

He nods, a faint, self-deprecating chuckle escaping his lips “The clothes, the hair, trying to fit in with your world—it was all for you. Even when I begged you to make me popular, it wasn’t really about the popularity. I just wanted to be enough for you. To have a chance with you.”

His words hit you like a wave, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say.

“You hated me back then.” You murmur, though your voice lacks conviction.

“I didn’t hate you,” He says firmly, his gaze unwavering “I hated how you treated me sometimes, yeah. But I didn’t hate you. How could I, when I was in love with you?”

Your breath catches “In love with me?”

“Since that first day,” Hongjoong admits, his voice barely above a whisper “It didn’t matter that you barely knew I existed. It didn’t matter how hard it was to watch you humiliate me or use me as a punchline. I just wanted you to notice me, YN. Even if it hurts.”

A lump forms in your throat as you stare at him. His words are raw, honest, and so unlike the Kim Hongjoong you’ve grown accustomed to.

“Hongjoong…” You trail off, your voice faltering.

He shakes his head, his hand tightening around yours.

“I know how it sounds. And I get it if you don’t feel the same way. But I had to tell you. Because all of this? It’s real for me. You’re real for me.”

You feel your chest tighten, the weight of his confession pressing down on you. Part of you wants to believe him, to let yourself fall into the warmth of his feelings, but the doubts linger.

“What if…” You begin, your voice trembling “What if you’re wrong? What if this isn’t real?”

“I’m not wrong,” He says with quiet determination “And I’ll prove it to you, pretty. Every day, if I have to.”

His words stir something deep inside you, but the echoes of your brother’s voice resurface: ‘Once the thrill of the game wears off, they’ll both be exactly where they belong—crumbling.’

You bite your lip, trying to suppress the turmoil within you.

“I don’t know if I can trust this.”

Hongjoong leans closer, his eyes searching yours “You don’t have to trust it all at once. Just… let me show you. Let me prove to you that I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, you hesitate, your heart warring with your mind. But then, as if on instinct, you lean in and press your lips to his.

The kiss is soft at first, tentative, but then it deepens, his hands cupping your face as yours find their way to his shoulders. For a moment, the world around you disappears, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, Hongjoong’s eyes are wide, his expression filled with awe.

“Does this mean that we are…?”

“It means,” You interrupt, your voice trembling but steady “That I’m giving you a chance to prove it, then we discuss what will happen. Don’t make me regret it.”

He smiles, the kind of smile that reaches his eyes and lights up his entire face.

“I won’t. I promise.”

The Ferris wheel begins to move again, but this time, as it descends, you feel lighter, the weight of your doubts momentarily lifted.

Maybe this is reckless. Maybe it’ll all fall apart. But as Hongjoong’s hand finds yours again, lacing your fingers together, you decide—for now—you’ll take the risk.

✮ ⋆

The hum of the car engine fades as Hongjoong pulls up to your family’s grand estate, its sprawling driveway illuminated by soft outdoor lighting. He steps out of the old car and quickly moves to your side, opening the door for you with a charming smile.

“Such a gentleman.”

You tease, stepping out in your heels, clutching the medium-sized plush bunny he’d won for you at the amusement park. Its soft, floppy ears brush against your arm, and for reasons you can’t quite explain, holding it makes you feel… warm.

“Well, tonight was special. You deserve the whole VIP treatment.” He quips, offering his hand to steady you.

As the two of you walk toward the front steps, the soft chill of the evening air wraps around you, but you barely notice it. The warmth of the evening lingers, and you’re not quite ready to let it go.

“I had fun tonight.” You admit, your voice softer than usual.

“Yeah?” He asks, his eyes lighting up “You’re not just saying that because I let you beat me at the ring toss, are you?”

You roll your eyes, a laugh escaping as you hug the bunny tighter.

“You didn’t let me win. I’m just naturally talented.”

Hongjoong grins, leaning slightly closer “Naturally talented, huh? I’ll remember that next time I’m getting crushed at bumper cars.”

A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment as you both reach the front door.

“Thank you, Hongjoong,” You say, turning to face him fully “For everything. I mean it.”

He scratches the back of his neck, his cheeks tinged pink under the porch light. “You don’t have to thank me. I just… I wanted you to have a good time.”

“Well, mission accomplished.” You reply, your smile lingering.

The moment feels charged, like the quiet pause before a firework explodes. Slowly, he steps closer, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Goodnight, pretty.” He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Goodnight, Joongie.” You reply, leaning in.

Your lips meet in a tender kiss, warm and unhurried, the kind that feels like a promise. The bunny slips slightly in your grip, but Hongjoong steadies it with a hand, his touch lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter.

When you pull back, there’s a flicker of hesitation in his eyes, as though he’s reluctant to leave.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at school.” He murmurs, his hand brushing yours one last time before he turns and walks back to his car.

You watch him drive away, the sound of the engine fading into the night. For a brief moment, you stand there, feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

The plush bunny in your arms feels oddly comforting, and you catch yourself smiling at the memory of him insisting on winning it for you. He’d been so focused, so determined, as though nothing else in the world mattered.

But the warmth is short-lived.

As you step inside, the soft click of your heels echoes in the dimly lit foyer. The house feels quiet, almost too quiet, and a sense of unease prickles at the back of your neck.

“Late night, huh?” You freeze. Mike’s voice cuts through the silence like a knife, cold and taunting.

He steps out from the shadows of the living room, his arms crossed, and an infuriatingly smug look on his face.

“So, did Prince Nerd sweep you off your feet?”

You roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure “Go to bed, Mike. You’re not my keeper.”

He chuckles, the sound low and mocking “Oh, but it’s so entertaining watching you play house with your little project.”

You glare at him, your defenses rising “He’s not a project. And you don’t know anything about him.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, stepping closer “Don’t I? Let’s see… Hongjoong, the reformed nerd. The guy who suddenly started hanging out with the queen bee… How curious, don't you think?” Your jaw tightens, but he doesn’t stop “You think that’s love, YN? Or is it desperation?"

"Face it, dear sister. He’s obsessed with you because you’re a trophy. The queen bee who gave him the time of day. Do you really think that’ll last? Once he realizes he can’t keep up, he’ll snap back to reality. And where does that leave you?”

“Stop it,” You snap, your voice shaking slightly.

But Mike only smirks “You’re scared, aren’t you? Scared that I’m right. Scared that once the shine wears off, he’ll remember who he really is—and leave you behind.”

His words sink in like claws, dragging at the fragile hope you’d started to build tonight. You open your mouth to fire back, but the lump in your throat stops you.

Mike leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper “Enjoy the fairytale while it lasts, little sister. Because when it ends, it’s going to hurt.”

Without another word, he turns and disappears into the shadows, leaving you standing there, clutching the bunny tightly to your chest.

The warmth of Hongjoong’s kiss feels like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the weight of Mike’s cruel words.

As you climb the stairs to your room, the doubts creep in, unbidden and relentless.

You set the bunny down on your bed, its soft, innocent face staring back at you as though mocking your turmoil.

Tonight was perfect. But now, you’re not so sure how long perfect can last.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

March, 2008⋆｡

You were five years old, standing in the middle of the schoolyard with a bouquet of cheap plastic flowers and a small silver medal hanging around your neck. The other kids were swarmed by their parents, showered in hugs, kisses, and congratulations.

You stood apart, your smile faltering as you scanned the crowd again and again, hoping to find a familiar face.

But your parents never came.

By the time the babysitter arrived to take you home, the festival had already ended, and the school grounds were nearly empty. You sat quietly in the car, clutching the medal tightly in your small hands, determined not to cry.

You had worked so hard for the performance, staying late after school for weeks, practicing the routine over and over. You had wanted your parents to see you, to be proud of you.

When you finally got home, the house was dark. Your parents weren’t there, of course. They had told you that morning that they might be "a little late," but you hadn’t realized it meant missing the entire festival.

The babysitter gave you a sympathetic smile before heading upstairs. You sat at the dining table, the silver medal still around your neck, as you stared at the empty chairs where your parents should’ve been.

It wasn’t until late at night that you heard the front door open. You rushed downstairs, your little heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

Your parents entered, followed by your eight-year-old brother, Mike, who was holding a shiny trophy in his hands.

“Look at this, first place!” Mike boasted, raising the trophy high.

“We’re so proud of you, Mike.” Your mother said, ruffling his hair.

“Mommy, Daddy,” You began hesitantly, clutching her medal “You missed my dance festival.”

Your parents glanced at you briefly, their smiles faltering for just a moment.

“Oh, honey, we’re so sorry,” Your father said, though his tone was distracted “But Mike had his soccer game today, and his team won! It was such an important match.”

“I won too. I won second place, look.” You said quietly, holding up your medal with a smile.

You looked between your parents, hoping for a flicker of pride, of recognition.

Mike snorted “Second place? That’s just the first loser, YN.”

Your cheeks burned, and your grip on the medal tightened “It’s still good,” You muttered.

The oldest exchanged a quick look before your mother knelt down in front of you.

“That's incredible, sweetie. We’re sorry we couldn’t make it. We’ll make it up to you, okay? Tomorrow, we’ll take you to the store, and you can pick out whatever you want. How does that sound?”

You nodded slowly, but the hollow ache in your chest didn’t go away. You watched as your parents returned their attention to Mike, showering him with questions about his game, reliving every goal and every cheer.

You stood there, forgotten, the silver medal in your hand feeling heavier by the second.

That night, as you lay in bed, you stared at the medal on the nightstand. You thought about the promise your parents had made, the reward they’d offered to soothe their absence.

A reward.

That’s what you were worth to them. Not their time, not their presence, but a material gift to ease their guilt.

And so, even at five years old, you learned a valuable lesson: if you couldn’t earn love, you could at least be compensated for its absence.

✮ ⋆

October, 2017⋆｡

The house was alive with music, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Streamers in shades of purple and gold adorned the grand living room, and a three-tier cake stood proudly at the center of the dining table, surrounded by an array of delicately prepared treats.

It was your fifteenth birthday—or at least, it was supposed to be.

You stood near the large bay window, your dress a vision of elegance and sparkle, the kind your mother had insisted on getting for the occasion. But your smile was thin and forced, your eyes constantly darting to the growing crowd around Mike.

Your older brother was the center of attention, as he always seemed to be.

Earlier that evening, just as the guests began to arrive, Mike had announced to their parents that he had been accepted into the most prestigious university in the country. The news was met with exuberant cheers and immediate celebration.

Your parents’ pride radiated like the sun, casting a shadow over everything else—including you.

At first, you tried to hold onto the joy of your own milestone, but as the night wore on, the decorations, the cake, and even the guests seemed to shift their focus.

“To Mike!” Your father’s voice boomed as he raised a glass of champagne “For making us the proudest parents alive!”

A collective cheer followed, and you felt your chest tighten. You glanced at your mother, hoping for a gesture of acknowledgment, but she was too busy beaming at Mike.

The words you had rehearsed to thank everyone for coming stayed locked in your throat.

“It’s okay…” You told yourself, gripping the edges of the dress to steady your trembling hands.

As the hours passed, your birthday transformed into an impromptu celebration for Mike’s achievement. Relatives and family friends crowded around him, offering their congratulations. The gifts that were meant for you sat unopened on a side table, forgotten.

Later that night, after most of the guests had left, you found yourself alone in the kitchen, picking at the remains of the untouched birthday cake. Your parents walked in, their faces still glowing with pride.

“Darling,” Your father said, noticing your somber expression “Why are you here by yourself? It was such a wonderful evening.”

You looked up at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“It was supposed to be my birthday party.”

Your mother’s smile faltered “Oh, sweetheart, we’re so sorry,” She said, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder “But you understand how important this is for Mike, don’t you? This is such a big accomplishment for him.”

“I guess.” You mumbled, though the ache in your chest remained.

Mike walked in then, a triumphant grin on his face “What’s this? Pouting because you had to share the spotlight?” He teased, ruffling your hair in that condescending way that always made your blood boil.

“It’s not a big deal. Come on, you should be happy for me. Not everyone gets into a school like this.”

You clenched your fists, fighting the urge to lash out “Happy birthday to me.” You muttered under her breath.

Her parents, sensing the tension, exchanged a quick glance.

“YN, we’ll make it up to you. Tomorrow, we’ll take you shopping and get you whatever you want. Anything at all.”

You forced a smile, nodding mechanically.

“Sure. Thanks.”

But as you lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being invisible. No matter how hard you tried, it seemed you would always come second to Mike—the golden child, the perfect son, the one who could do no wrong.

And so, the seeds of bitterness were planted, watered by years of neglect and overshadowed by a brother who always shone brighter.

You promised yourself then that you would never let anyone make you feel small again.

If you had to be cruel to survive, so be it. Because in a world where everyone else seemed to have the upper hand, kindness felt like a luxury you couldn’t afford.

✮ ⋆

July, 2020⋆｡

The dining room was filled with laughter and the soft clinking of glasses. The long table was adorned with an elegant spread, shimmering under the chandelier’s warm glow.

It was Mike’s farewell dinner, a grand event in honor of his departure to Germany to pursue his master’s degree in business management.

The room buzzed with pride and excitement for the family’s golden boy.

You, now seventeen, sat near the end of the table, quiet and composed, your gaze fixed on your untouched plate. You had learned to blend into the background during these family gatherings, where you knew your presence would be an afterthought.

“To Mike!” Uncle William raised his glass for the third toast of the evening “A true inspiration to us all. You’ve always been the pride of the family!”

“Here’s to making us proud in Germany,” Chimed in Aunt Silvia, dabbing her eyes with a napkin “Our boy is destined for greatness.”

Everyone joined in the toast, glasses clinking, voices filled with admiration. Your grip tightened around the fork, your knuckles white as you forced a polite smile.

“And what about you, YN?” Cousin Andrew’s voice cut through the noise like a blade, drawing attention to her “Any plans to follow in your brother’s footsteps? Or is it still fashion magazines and parties for you?”

The table erupted in laughter, the kind that stung more than it amused. Your jaw clenched, but you kept a neutral expression, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

Your mother’s voice cut through the mockery, firm but not forceful.

“That’s enough, Andrew. YN has her own path, and she’s doing well in school.”

“Well, of course she is,” Mike interjected, his tone smooth but laced with condescension “YN has always been… creative.”

More laughter followed, and you felt the familiar sting of their dismissive comments. Years of enduring this treatment had toughened you, but tonight, it felt heavier, like a weight pressing on your chest.

As dessert was served, Grandpa leaned toward you.

“You should be proud of your brother, Little YN. He’s setting the standard for the family. Maybe one day you’ll find your own way to contribute.”

“I am proud.” You said softly, voice steady despite the lump in your throat.

Your father, noticing the tension, tried to lighten the mood.

“Come now, let’s not overshadow YN entirely. She’s done well this year, too.”

“Sure,” Mike quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips “But tonight isn’t about her.”

You pushed your chair back, movements graceful despite the storm brewing inside you.

“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll get some air.”

The murmurs at the table quieted as you left the room, heels clicking against the polished floor.

Once outside, You inhaled deeply, the cool night air filling her lungs. Your chest heaved as you fought back the tears threatening to spill.

You wouldn’t let them see your break.

Not now. Not ever.

When your parents found you later, sitting on the garden bench, your father held out a small, velvet box.

“We’re sorry, darling,” He said, his voice soft with guilt “We didn’t mean to make you feel left out.”

You opened the box to reveal a delicate diamond bracelet, the stones catching the moonlight.

“It’s beautiful.” You said, slipping it onto your wrist.

But inside, the gesture felt hollow. No gift could fill the void left by years of neglect and overshadowing.

That night, the bracelet glittering on the nightstand, you made a vow: If the world wanted to underestimate you, you would let it. And then, you would show them all just how wrong they were.

✮ ⋆

Present year (Mike’s return)⋆｡

Hours later, you returned home after dinner at Hongjoong’s house, your mood lifted by the warmth and genuine affection of his parents. But the moment you stepped inside your own home, the oppressive atmosphere returned.

Mike confronted you as always, but you didn’t mind, didn’t talk back. But your chest burned with frustration and hurt.

As you reached the top of the stairs, you passed by your parents’ room. Their voices carried through the cracked door.

“Do you think we should talk to her?” Your mother asked, her tone uncertain.

Her father sighed “She’ll be fine. She always is.”

“I don’t know,” She said softly “Maybe we should get her something. You know how sensitive she can be about these things.”

“A trip, perhaps?” Your father suggested “Or maybe one of those designer handbags she likes. It’s not like she doesn’t enjoy it.”

You froze in the hallway, stomach twisting. Of course. This was how it always went. Gifts instead of apologies. Material things to soothe over their lack of understanding or support.

You leaned against the wall, fists clenching.

As a child, you had cried over these moments, hoping for more, longing for genuine care. Now, you knew better.

You have learned to accept it, even take advantage of it.

If they thought they could buy your affection, you would let them.

Your lips curved into a bitter smile. If they wanted to give you a car, a trip, a bag, or whatever else they thought would ease their guilt, so be it. You’d make sure it was worth their while.

But as you slipped into your room and closed the door, the bitterness remained, gnawing at the edges of your heart.

You should be used to this by now.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The bustling energy of the school hallway feels distant as you walk to your locker. Usually, your heels click with purpose, your presence commanding attention.

But today, something is off. You aren't radiating your usual aura of authority and sharpness. Instead, you move through the crowd quietly, your thoughts heavy.

Your mind has been restless since the night before, replaying old memories you rarely allowed yourself to dwell on. The echoes of the past—your parents’ hollow apologies, Mike’s dismissive words—lingered, intertwining with the warmth you had felt during the date with Hongjoong.

Why now? Why did those memories resurface now, after a day that had been nothing short of… perfect?

As you approach your locker, you feel a presence behind you. Turning, you see Hongjoong standing there, his brows furrows in concern.

“You’ve been quiet.” He says softly.

You tilt your head, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“And that’s unusual?”

“For you? Yeah.” He says, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You smirk faintly but don't respond. Instead, you play with the lock on your locker, your movements uncharacteristically hesitant.

Hongjoong leans against the locker next to yours, studying you.

“Something’s on your mind.”

You hesitate, pride warring with the strange weight pressing on your chest. Finally, you shrug, closing the locker door.

“Don’t flatter yourself. Not everything revolves around you, Joongie.”

Hongjoong chuckles, but his concern doesn't waver “Okay, but if you need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.”

You nod, taking a deep breath, trying to shake off the unease.

“Today I planned a little meeting at my house, bring a swimsuit.”

✮ ⋆

The sun cast golden reflections over the pool as music pulses through the speakers. Laughter and chatter fill the air as you and your friends lounge around, drinks in hand. Mindy, Samantha, Wooyoung, Seonghwa, San, Mingi, and Hongjoong are all there, the atmosphere lighthearted and carefree.

Dann, ever the obedient little pet, carries a tray of drinks, moving carefully to avoid spilling anything. She approaches the group, her expression unreadable as she sets the drinks down on the small poolside table.

"Finally." Seonghwa smirks, picking up his glass.

"Took you long enough, nerd." Mindy snaps.

"What, did you have to mix them by hand?" Wooyoung adds with a chuckle.

Dann clenches her jaw but says nothing. She had learned that silence is often the best defense. But today, something in her burns hotter than usual.

Maybe it is the sight of you and Hoongjoong sitting so close, his hand around your waist, your chemistry undeniable.

Maybe it’s the way you barely acknowledge her, as if she is nothing more than an accessory in your world.

"You should be more grateful," Dann mutters under her breath "Not everyone is willing to put up with your bullshit."

Silence. Then laughter. You arch an eyebrow, standing up and tilting your head as if you hadn't heard correctly.

"Excuse me?"

Dann swallows, but her resolve doesn't waver "I said—"

But before she can finish, you let out a scoff, exchanging a look with Wooyoung. Without warning, you place a hand on Dann’s shoulder and give her a hard shove. Wooyoung, catching on to the moment, joins in, and together you push Dann straight into the pool.

A loud splash echoes through the air.

Laughter erupts from the group as Dann surfaces, coughing and sputtering, her soaked hair plaster to her face. Wooyoung doubled over, wiping tears from his eyes. Even Hongjoong chuckles along with the others.

Dann wipes water from her eyes, her face burning—not just from humiliation but from something deeper. Something sharper.

As the group continues to laugh, none of them notices the figure watching from the mansion’s balcony. Mike stands at a distance, his expression unreadable, his grip tightening around his glass as he observes everything in silence.

The laughter has barely settled when Dann storms away, her soaked clothes clinging to her like a second skin, her face burning with humiliation.

She can still hear their amusement echoing behind her, but she doesn’t turn back. She wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.

Just as the group is about to move on from the incident, a familiar voice interrupts.

“Sweetie,” Your mother’s elegant tone cut through the chatter, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Yes, mommy?”

Your mother looks over the group with an approving nod “I see you’re all having fun,” She says pleasantly “I wanted to extend an invitation to all of you. This Saturday, we’re hosting a celebration for Mike’s accomplishments. It’ll be a grand affair.”

The mention of Mike makes your stomach twist, but you keep your expression unreadable.

Your mother’s gaze then lands directly on Hongjoong “And you, young man, I would love for you to attend.”

Hongjoong blinks, clearly caught off guard. He isn’t sure if that is true or just a polite formality, but he nods nonetheless.

“Uh, thank you, Mrs. Clarke. I’d be honored to come.”

“Wonderful.” She said smoothly, and with that, she excused herself, leaving the group with murmurs of intrigue about the upcoming event.

✮ ⋆

As the night stretches on, one by one, your friends depart, leaving only you and Hongjoong by the pool. The energy has shifted. The teasing, the careless fun—it all faded into something quieter, something heavier in the air between you.

The water is cool against Hongjoong’s skin, a welcome contrast to the heat radiating between you. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling the warmth of your sun-kissed body against his own. You straddle his lap, your fingers threading through his hair as you talk.

“And your friends… what are they like?” You ask, your voice softer now, genuinely curious.

Hongjoong chuckles “A bunch of nerds, really,” He admits “Yunho is always energetic, making jokes and annoying. Yeosang is quiet but he is also a weirdo.” You both laugh, you can see in his eyes how much he appreciates his friends “On the other hand, Jongho is reserved and always listening, sometimes scary, but in general we spend way too much time debating books lore and analyzing sci-fi movies like it’s a science.”

You smirk, tilting your head toward him “That’s kinda cute.”

He raises an eyebrow “Cute? You wouldn’t last five minutes in one of our discussions.”

“Try me, I know much more than just fashion and pop culture gossip.”

And for a while, you simply talk. About things that don't matter, about things that do. And for the first time in a long time, you aren't thinking about your reputation, about expectations, or about proving yourself.

You are just there, with him.

At some point, you drift closer, and Hongjoong notices. The way your eyes soften under the dim lights, the way the water reflects off your skin. The way you look at him—not like he is some nerd trying to reach too high, but like he is just Hongjoong.

Without overthinking, he leans in, brushing a damp strand of hair behind your ear.

“You’re different when it’s just us.” He murmurs.

“And you don’t mind?”

He shakes his head “Not even a little.”

Your lips meet, tentative at first, then deeper. The warmth of the water, the way your bodies press against each other—it’s intoxicating. Your fingers curl around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

His hands trace slow, lazy circles on your bare waist, and for that moment, nothing else exists.

"You always talk about your nerdy friends," You murmur as you pull back a little, your breath catching against his lips "But you never really tell me about you."

Hongjoong lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head "And here I thought you didn’t care."

You roll your eyes, but there’s something different now. The barest hint of a smirk touches your lips.

"Maybe I do."

His breath hitches at the sound of your voice, and you feel the faint tremor in his hands as they hover on your waist. There’s hesitation, a slight uncertainty, as if he’s not sure how far to go or whether he’s doing it right. You like it. It’s endearing.

You know exactly what’s on his mind, that quiet nervousness, and it only makes you want him more.

You reach out, tracing your fingertips slowly down his arm beneath the water, deliberate and teasing. He shivers slightly under your touch, his pulse hammering.

When your hand drifts to his chest, you linger there, pressing your palm flat against his skin, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingers.

“Let's go shopping tomorrow after school. You need a suit, and you have to impress my mother.”

“Only your mother?” He teases, making you scoff.

“Think what you want, but you need something that screams ‘I belong to YN Clarke’.”

Hongjoong laughs but nods “All right then, pretty.”

"You’re warm," You note absently, your breath shaky as you let your touch wander.

Hongjoong exhales sharply, his hand lifting, skimming over the curve of your waist. His fingertips brush over your bare skin, and you can feel his uncertainty, the way he pulls back just a fraction when you press closer.

His breath is uneven, like he’s trying to keep up with the rhythm of your touch, trying to suppress the nerves coiling in his gut. He swallows hard.

"YN—"

You cut him off before he can say more, leaning in to kiss him again, your lips meeting his with an urgency that both surprises and excites him.

The kiss is slow at first, teasing, but as Hongjoong slides his hand to the small of your back and pulls you closer, something inside both of you snaps.

The moment his grip tightens, pulling you flush against him, you gasp softly, feeling the heat between you intensify. Hongjoong's kiss becomes deeper, rougher, his hands gripping you like he’s been starving for you, his touch becoming bolder, more eager.

His muscles tense beneath your hands, the slight tremor in his touch betraying his inexperience, but you don’t mind. If anything, you find it charming, knowing you’re the one who can pull this reaction from him.

The water around you suddenly feels too cool compared to the heat of his body against yours. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers threading through his damp hair as he presses you against the edge of the pool.

He kisses along your jaw, over the damp skin of your throat, sucking lightly before flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe the sting. You shudder at the sensation, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist beneath the water.

"Joong—" You breathe, your voice barely above a whisper, lost in the warmth of the moment.

But he swallows the rest of your words with another kiss, drowning you both in the heat of it, in the desperation, the raw hunger that feels so real and unrestrained.

His hands roam lower now, gripping your thighs beneath the water, and you arch into him. You can feel his self-control hanging by a thread, the way he stifles every urge to push harder, faster, the way he almost overthinks each move. It’s a mix of hesitance and hunger.

He wants you so badly, but he’s not sure if he’s doing it right. But the more you respond, the more he realizes that’s not what matters. It’s the way you want him that matters.

You guide him without saying a word—your body melting against him, soft sighs escaping your lips as he becomes more confident with each touch. His kisses deepen, and the passion between you escalates.

There’s nothing awkward about this anymore. The hesitation fades, and what’s left is raw, real, and completely right.

"God, you drive me crazy," He murmurs against your lips, voice hoarse with the effort of holding back.

You smirk, brushing your fingers along his jaw "I know, nerd."

Hongjoong groans, his grip tightening as he nips at your lower lip in retaliation. You laugh, but it quickly fades into a soft sigh when he dips his head, kissing along the curve of your shoulder, his lips gentle but insistent.

For a moment, you can feel him stiffen slightly, unsure whether he’s moving too fast, and then you pull him closer, urging him to follow your lead. His hands move with more certainty now, exploring with a quiet passion, and the way his body reacts to yours is nothing short of electrifying.

The beauty of it is not just in the physicality—the way his hands and lips touch you—but in the way he’s learning.

Hongjoong is not perfect, and he’s not experienced, but he’s here.

He’s with you, and the more he responds to you, the more he learns what you need, the more you find yourself consumed by him.

It’s the way he forgets his nervousness, the way he becomes sure of himself because of you.

And you know, deep down, that this isn’t just about the touch, the heat, the kissing. It’s about the way he’s learning to be confident in himself. Because of you.

And that, in the end, makes all the difference.

For once, you let yourself get lost in it. In the way Hongjoong touches you, the way he wants you, the way he holds you like you’re something precious.

It 's intoxicating.

And yet, hidden in the shadows, Dann stands frozen, her chest tightening, her fingers clenched into fists as she watches the scene unfold.

Dann hadn’t meant to stay. She hadn’t meant to see.

But there she is, standing by the edge of the terrace, her heart sinking lower and lower.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It wasn’t just some game you were playing.

This is real.

She has told herself she doesn't care. That it doesn’t matter. But the painful sting in her heart tells her otherwise.

And it hurt.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next day, you and Hongjoong find yourselves strolling through an upscale shopping mall. The polished marble floors gleam under the soft glow of designer store lights.

As usual, your style is impeccable—heels clicking in rhythm, and your hair flowing with the air. Beside you, Hongjoong is a stark contrast, casual yet charming in his plain sweater and jeans.

You lead him into one of the most exclusive stores, where racks of tailored suits and elegant ensembles line the walls.

The sales assistants greet you with knowing smiles, instantly recognizing your status.

“Do you even know my size?” He teases, watching you confidently pull out a dark navy suit with subtle pinstripes.

You smirk, holding the suit up to him “I don’t need to know your size. I have an eye for perfection.”

He shakes his head, chuckling as he takes the suit from your hands “You know I don’t need something this expensive, right? I can just wear the stuff I have at home.”

“Not if you’re going to a party as my date.” You say firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Hongjoong smiles softly but doesn’t press further. He disappears into the fitting room, and while he’s gone, you wander the store, your gaze drifting over the luxurious displays.

The weight in your chest hasn’t eased since yesterday. If anything, it feels heavier under the bright lights and polished surfaces.

It’s not about the suit. It’s not about the party. Shopping, spending, indulging—it’s the only thing that ever distracted you from the hollow ache inside. It always has been.

“YN?” Hongjoong’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

You turn, and for a moment, your breath catches. The suit fits him perfectly, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean frame.

He looks… confident. Polished.

Yours.

“What do you think?” He asks, doing a half spin for effect.

You step closer, your fingers brushing over the lapel of the jacket “You look…” You pause, searching for the right word, then smirk “Like someone who belongs to me.”

He laughs, shaking his head, but there’s a hint of pink in his cheeks “I should’ve known you’d say that.”

After the purchase is made—your card, of course—you both leave the store. You’re holding onto a medium-sized bag containing some clothes as Hongjoong holds a bag with his new suit that costs more than some people make in a month.

As you walk through the mall, Hongjoong’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He glances at the screen, and a small smile spreads across his face.

“What is it?” You ask, curious.

“It’s Jongho, Yeosang, and Yunho,” He says, showing you the message “They’re asking if I want to hit the arcade with them tonight. It’s been ages since we’ve hung out.”

You notice the way his eyes light up at the mention of his friends, and for a moment, your heart clenches.

You nod, keeping your expression neutral.

“You should go.”

He hesitates, slipping his phone back into his pocket “I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I’ll be fine,” You say with a small smile “Go have fun with them. You deserve it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, studying your face.

“Yeah,” You reply, tilting your head slightly “I’ll just go home and relax. Maybe binge some show or something.”

Hongjoong doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push.

“Okay, but only if you promise me something.”

“What?”

“That you’ll call me if you need anything.”

You roll your eyes, your lips curving into a smirk “Relax, Joong. I’m not helpless.”

“I know you’re not,” He says softly “But I care about you, pretty. A lot.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You can’t help but wonder if it’s only a matter of time before those words—his care, his affection—turn into something else.

Something colder.

He leans down and kisses your forehead, his hand briefly brushing yours.

“I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Okay,” You whisper, watching him walk away.

You clutch the bag in your hand, the weight of the expensive items nothing compared to the familiar emptiness settling in your chest.

✮ ⋆

The arcade was alive with the sound of laughter, the ping of game machines, and the occasional cheer of someone winning.

Hongjoong walked in, spotting the boys huddled near the air hockey table.

“Hongjoong!” Yunho calls, waving him over.

“About time you showed up,” Yeosang teases “We thought YN had you on a leash or something.”

Hongjoong rolls his eyes, grinning “Very funny.”

Jongho smirks “For a moment we thought you'd say no, since you've only spent time with her.”

“I also have a life apart from being with her and she also needs her space, so she let me come.”

“She let you come? I didn't know you had to ask permission to go out with your friends.” Yunho snorts mockingly.

“We’re kind of a thing now.” Hongjoong murmurs shyly.

The boys look confused at each other before looking at him.

“What do you mean with that, Joong?”

He hesitates before shrugging, a small smile tugging at his lips “We had a date.”

Yunho drops the joystick he was holding “A date?!

“Wait, wait,” Yeosang says, laughing “YN Clarke? Like, the queen bee had a date with you?”

“The same one.” Hongjoong replies, scratching the back of his neck.

Yeosang and Yunho exchange a look before breaking into wide grins.

Jongho let out a low whistle “I thought you were joking about liking her. She actually went out with you?”

“Yeah,” Hongjoong says, his smile growing “It was amazing. I took her to the amusement park. She even let me win her a prize—a stuffed bunny.”

Yunho grinns “Aww, how romantic. Joongie the Casanova.”

“More like Hongjoong the miracle nerd,” Jongho adds “Seriously, dude. YN Clarke? That’s insane.”

Yunho’s grin widens “Dude, you’re living the dream. A date with the queen bee of the school? You’re officially a legend.”

Hongjoong chuckles, his face reddening slightly. Before he could respond, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Joong?”

He turns to see Dann standing a few feet away, clutching a soda.

“Dann?” He says, confused “What are you doing here?”

“Yunho texted me,” Dann says, glancing at the boys “Thought it’d be nice to hang out.”

Hongjoong stiffs slightly “Oh... Uh, cool.”

Dann steps closer, her gaze lingering on him “It’s been a while. You’ve been… busy.”

He scratches the back of his neck, glancing at his friends for support “Yeah, I guess I have.”

Dann smiles, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes “With YN, right?”

“Yeah,” He answers, his tone cautious.

Yeosang, sensing the tension, jumps in “Hey, let’s hit the games. Air hockey, anyone?”

“Sure,” Dann says quickly, stepping closer to Hongjoong “We can team up.”

Hongjoong hesitates. He knows you don’t like Dann being around him—and he can't blame you. Dann’s feelings for him are obvious, you told him from the beginning and he can already confirm it.

He doesn’t want to hurt Dann, but he also doesn’t want to disrespect you.

“Actually,” He starts, his tone gentle but firm “Why don’t you play with Jongho? He’s unbeatable.”

Dann’s smile falters “Oh. Right. Sure.”

Yunho raises an eyebrow at Hongjoong, but doesn’t comment. They are all aware of the feelings of both, Dann in love with Hongjoong and Hongjoong with you, they just hope that things don't get awkward in the future.

As they move toward the air hockey table, Dann hangs back, watching Hongjoong laugh and joke with the others.

Her chest tightness. Hongjoong was pushing her away—kindly, yes, but it was still rejection. And she knows why.

It 's not fair. She had been there for him when no one else was. She had defended him when people mocked him for being a nerd. And now, he was choosing you. Again.

Her phone buzzes, breaking her thoughts. She pulls it out to see a message from Mike:

Mike C: Stay focused. Remember our deal.

Dann clenches her jaw, her fingers tightening around the phone.

If Hongjoong wants to choose you, fine. But you don’t deserve him. And Dann is going to make sure he sees that—no matter what it takes.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The cafeteria is alive with its usual energy, but the corner table claimed by you and your entourage buzzes with a more refined excitement. The topic of the day? Saturday’s celebration for Mike at the Ritz.

“So,” Mindy begins, twirling a strand of her perfectly styled hair “Who’s already stressing about their outfit? Because I may or may not have gone a little overboard at Valentino yesterday.”

“Only yesterday?” Wooyoung teases, smirking “Some of us have been planning for days. I’m bringing the tux my dad wore to that gala in Monaco. He swears it’s vintage gold now.”

You scoff, taking a delicate sip of your iced coffee “Monaco tux or not, just don’t embarrass me, Woo.”

“Moi? Embarrass you? Never, babydoll.” He grins, leaning back in his chair.

Mindy sighs dramatically, resting her chin in her palm “I still think about the last party. The lighting, the flowers, the champagne towers. Do you think they’ll top it this time?”

“They’d better,” You reply nonchalantly, though your gaze flickered briefly “My parents love to ‘impress.’ It’s practically their brand.”

“And what time should we grace them with our presence?” Another of your friends, Samantha, asks, pulling out her phone.

“Seven-thirty, at the Ritz. And be punctual. This isn’t one of those parties you can show up fashionably late to.”

“Noted,” Wooyoung says, tapping the time into his calendar “And little Hongjoong? Are you ready to make your grand debut into the Clarke world of extravagance?”

Hongjoong, who has been quietly observing the banter, chuckles softly “I think I’ll survive. YN’s already dragged me through the whole shopping process.”

“Oh, please,” You cut in, smirking “Dragged? You should be thanking me, Joong.”

He raises his hands in surrender, laughing “All right, all right. I owe you one.”

“Just one?” Wooyoung teases again, winking.

Mindy’s eyes lit up as she leaned forward “Wait, what did you go with? Armani? Tom Ford?”

“Tom Ford, It suits him. And trust me, he’ll be turning heads Saturday night.”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Woo says, smirking at him.

“So, how many bottles of champagne do you think your parents are bringing out this time? Ten? Twenty?”

You snort, leaning back in the chair with an air of practiced nonchalance “If it’s less than twenty, I’ll personally tell the caterers to triple the order.”

Wooyoung laughs “Forget the champagne. I’m more interested in how many pastries they’ll have. Last party, I swear I had a religious experience with those chocolate eclairs.”

“Oh, the eclairs,” Sam sighs dreamily “I’ve been thinking about them since then. And don’t even get me started on the tiramisu.”

Hongjoong chuckles, glancing at you “So, is this a party or a dessert buffet?”

“It’s both. A Clarke family event is always an experience. You’ll see.”

“Damn right,” Woo said, raising his water bottle like it was a champagne glass “To YN Clarke and her family's amazing parties!”

The group laughs, the easy camaraderie filling the space. Hongjoong looks at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. You caughting his gaze and, for a brief moment, your confident exterior softened.

The party was just days away, and for now, everything seemed perfect.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The air in the Clarke mansion was a flurry of activity, with staff bustling through the grand halls, preparing for the evening’s event. The clinking of silverware and the faint aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the dining room, where the family had gathered for breakfast.

You sit at the table, scrolling through your phone, your polished nails tapping lightly against the screen. Across from you, Mike is casually flipping through the day’s paper, looking as composed as ever. Your father is already grumbling about last-minute details while your mother sips her tea, the picture of elegance amidst the chaos.

“Dann, can you help me with this?” Dann’s mother’s voice echoes softly from the kitchen.

Dann, trying to stay invisible, hesitates before hurrying to her mother’s side. Together, they carefully carry trays of food into the dining room.

Your father raises an eyebrow, glancing at Dann as she places a platter of fruit on the table.

“Quite the multi-tasker, aren’t you?” He remarks, his tone hovering between sarcasm and indifference.

Dann stiffens slightly, her cheeks coloring “Just helping my mom, sir.” She says quietly.

Before anyone can say more, your mother sets her cup down with a delicate clink.

“You know, I’ve been watching how hard you work around here, Dann,” She says warmly “Always helping your mother, always polite. I think it’s only fair that we extend an invitation to you for tonight’s party.”

The room falls silent. your head snaps up, eyes narrowing slightly, while Mike’s smirk barely conceals his amusement.

“Mom,” You begin, voice sharp “I don’t think—”

“Nonsense, sweetie,” She interrupts smoothly “It’s about time we show a little appreciation. Don’t you think so?”

Dann blinks, surprise evident on her face “Oh, Mrs. Clarke, that’s… I mean, thank you, but—”

“Of course,” Your father interjects, his tone dry “Just make sure you’re aware of the dress code. It’s black tie, not… casual.” His eyes flick briefly over Dann’s simple attire, and the implication hangs heavy in the air.

Your mother’s jaw tightens, and shoots her husband a pointed look “Which is why, sweetheart, you’ll be lending her something appropriate to wear. I’m sure you have plenty of dresses that would look lovely on her.”

Your lips curve into a slow, calculated smile “Of course, Mommy.”

After breakfast, you guide Dann into your walk-in closet with a sweeping gesture, the dazzling array of dresses catching her wide-eyed attention.

She's already entered the closet next to your room, but this one is much bigger. Her fingers trail hesitantly over the delicate fabrics, her expression a mix of awe and discomfort.

She’s never been surrounded by such luxury, let alone been invited to wear it. The second-hand clothes she normally wears couldn’t be further from this.

“You’ve got so many.” She murmurs, her voice tinged with wonder.

You smile, tilting your head “I know, it’s almost a problem, right? Too many choices. But don’t worry—I’ll help you find something that’s just right for tonight.”

Dann nods quickly, her unease flickering across her face. She’s not used to this kind of kindness from you, and it’s unsettling.

But as much as she doesn’t trust it, she can’t exactly refuse either.

You reach into one of the last racks, where the clothes you no longer wear are stored, you pull out a shimmering emerald gown with a slit up the side.

“Here’s a favorite of mine. It’s gorgeous on, trust me. And it’ll definitely help you stand out.”

Dann takes the dress with both hands, handling it as though it might dissolve in her grip “It’s beautiful,” She says, her tone genuine “I’ve never worn anything like this before.”

You smile, masking your amusement “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

Moving through the racks, you select another gown, this one a deep crimson with delicate lace detailing.

“Or maybe this one? It’s a classic. Wore it to a charity auction, and let me tell you—it turned heads.”

Dann stares at the dress, wide-eyed “Wow. It 's amazing.”

She’s completely oblivious to the fact that these dresses, as stunning as they are, are from last year’s collections—now outdated by anyone with even a passing knowledge of fashion.

To Dann, they’re the height of elegance.

You pull a lavender gown from the back of the rack, its soft beading catching the light.

“This one’s a little more subtle,” You say, handing it over “It’s sweet and sophisticated. I think it’s perfect for you. You can keep it, take it as a gift.”

Dann nods enthusiastically, her unease momentarily forgotten as she clutches the gown to her chest.

“Thank you, YN. This is… this is so kind of you.”

You wave off her gratitude with a bright smile “Of course. It’s my pleasure. Go try it on, let’s see how it looks.”

She disappears into the dressing room, and you lean against the doorway with a smug tilt to your lips.

The plan is unfolding perfectly. These dresses, while stunning in their time, are no longer the kind that command admiration—they invite quiet judgment.

But Dann doesn’t know that, and that’s exactly the point.

When she steps out in the lavender gown, her face lights up “It fits perfectly,” She says, her voice tinged with shy excitement.

You study her for a long moment, your smile never faltering.

“It looks wonderful on you, just wait until you see everyone’s reaction tonight.”

Dann beams, completely unaware of the double meaning behind your words.

“I can’t thank you enough, YN.”

You wave her off again “No need to thank me. I’m just glad you’ll have something to wear.”

Inside, you’re already picturing the whispers and raised eyebrows at the party. Tonight will be a night she’ll never forget—for all the wrong reasons.

As Dann leaves the room clutching the dress, you lean against the doorway, arms crossed. Your mother’s unexpected invitation throws you off, but if Dann is going to attend, you will make sure it’s on your terms.

✮ ⋆

Dann holds the lavender dress against herself, staring at the delicate fabric in awe. She hurries to the kitchen, where her mother is wiping down the counters.

“Mom, look at this,” Dann says, holding the gown up for her mother to see “It’s beautiful, but I don’t have the right shoes or makeup to match it.”

Her mother glances at the dress, her expression softening with a mix of pride and concern.

“It’s lovely, sweetheart, but you’re right. You need to look your best if you’re going to that party.”

Dann frowns “But… I don’t have anything like that.”

Her mother thinks for a moment, before leaving the kitchen she smiles at her “Why don’t you go shopping? Find a nice pair of shoes and maybe some makeup. You deserve to feel special tonight.”

As Dann mulls over the idea, Mike enters the room, his usual air of confidence trailing behind him. Overhearing their conversation, he leans casually against the doorframe.

“Shopping for the party, Dann?” He asks, his tone dripping with feigned interest.

Dann straightens, clutching the dress tighter “I don’t have shoes or makeup, so I thought—”

“Perfect.” Mike pulls out his wallet, flipping through the neatly arranged bills and credit cards. He holds out a black credit card “Here. Get yourself something nice. Consider it a little thank-you for… being cooperative.”

Dann hesitates but eventually takes the card, murmuring a quiet “Thanks.”

Mike’s smirk widens “While you’re at it, I’ve been thinking. Wouldn’t it be amusing if Hongjoong accidentally ended up at the wrong address tonight?”

Dann’s brows furrow “What do you mean?”

“Oh, you know.” His tone is casual, but his eyes gleam with mischief “If YN’s little nerd showed up at the wrong place, it’d be quite the embarrassment. Don’t you think?”

Dann bites her lip “How would we even do that?”

Mike’s smirk sharpens “Simple. We just need YN’s phone. Once you’re back, we’ll figure out the details.”

Dann nods slowly, the plan settling uneasily in her mind. She doesn’t like deceiving Hongjoong, but the thought of disrupting YN’s perfect evening is too tempting to resist.

Later, at the shopping mall, Dann wanders through the perfume section, marveling at the elegant bottles and their enticing scents. She is about to make her selection when a familiar voice catches her attention.

Turning, she sees Hongjoong standing a few feet away, examining a cologne bottle. His brows furrowed in concentration as he sprayed a tester onto a card.

“Joong?” Dann calls, her voice carrying a hint of surprise.

He looks up, a smile breaking across his face “Dann? What are you doing here?”

“Just… shopping,” She says, holding up a small bag “You?”

“Same,” He says with a laugh “YN told me I needed to step up my game for tonight, so here I am.”

Dann’s mind races. This is her chance to plant the seed of doubt. She steps closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially.

“By the way, did YN tell you about the venue change?”

Hongjoong blinks “Venue change? What are you talking about?”

“Oh,” Dann says, feigning surprise “I thought she’d have mentioned it. YN’s mother invited me to the celebration because I’ve been working for YN, so she told me earlier that Mike decided to move the party to that new place downtown, I'll send you the address, but she said something about Mike wanting a more modern vibe.”

Hongjoong frowns, confusion flickering across his face “Why didn’t YN tell me?”

Dann shrugs “She’s probably just busy with everything. You know how these rich people's events are—chaotic.”

He nods slowly, though uncertainty lingers in his expression “Yeah… maybe.”

Dann smiles sweetly, placing a hand on his arm “Don’t worry. Just show up at. You’ll be fine.”

As Dann walks away, a pang of guilt surfaces. But it’s quickly overshadowed by the thrill of watching the plan unfold.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘖𝘯𝘦! 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 Circus - @lani-heart poly!hybrid!ateez x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Drunkteez (Hyung Line) | Drunkteez (Maknae Line) - @atinyslittleworld ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓆞 Opposites Attract - @beenbaanbuun addams!matz x reader (series/universe) 𓆞 𓆞 The 9th member - @byuntrash101 poly!ateez x ninthmemeber!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 The Essence Of Youth Is Summers With You - @eightmakesonebraincell poly!surfers!ateez x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Espresso - @cheeseceli idol!hongjoong x reader (headcanons) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Our Shared Melody | The Babysitter Club - @makeitmingi idol!husband!hongjoong x wife!reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Perfect Little Pet - @armysantiny cruella!hongjoong x assistant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 The City Of Love - @lividstar fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Your Gentle Hands (They Feel Like Home To Me) | Your Gentle Hands (Please Don't Ever Let Go Of Me Again) - @yourlocaljonghoe dressmaker!hongjoong x reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 [7:03 AM] - @edenesth non-idol!seonghwa x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 A Date On The Horizon - @hwashotcheeto non-idol!seonghwa x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 A Lesson Learned - @mulloey outlaw!husband!seonghwa x innocent!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Best Friend's Mother - @hwashotcheeto milf!seonghwa x gn!reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Master's Precious Pet - @hwashotcheeto vampire!seonghwa x pet!gn!reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Dreamy Believer - @callmeagardengnome idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Family - @starskq non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Muffled - @desirehorizon non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Outlaw - @pirateprincessblog cowboy!yunho x bartender!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Payment - @starboyyoongi killer!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Contact Names - @daisykihannie idol!yeosang x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Cosplay - @xuchiya idol!yeosang x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓆞 Lessons In Intimacy - @honeyhotteoks camboy/barista!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Lights, Camera, Smile - @arafilez model!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 My Sweet Boyfriend - @jinisnuggets bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Byeol - @atinyslittleworld non-idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Dolce And Gabbana - @kitten4sannie idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Forever You Are My Star - @alxtiny non-idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Happy Birthday Sannie - @pantherxrogers idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 His Little Baby - @velvetydream dad!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Atlas - @03jyh23 rapper!mingi x non-celebrity!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cute Manager - @xuchiya volleyball player!mingi x manager!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 How To Cheer Up A Lifeguard - @rems-writing swimmer!mingi x lifeguard!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Killers Eyes | The Other Man - @pirateprincessblog prisoner!mingi x doctor!reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Written In The Stars [Part One] [Part Two] - @edenesth military strategist!mingi x royal physician!reader (two parts) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 After The Game - @pantherxrogers baseball player!wooyoung x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 First Time Dad - @kpoptrashibnida idol!dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Jeju Thoughts - @hee0soo idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Let The Heart Love Again - @makeitmingi singledad!wooyoung x danceteacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Milkshake - @byuntrash101 husband!wooyoung x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Collide To Your Depth - @littlefireball bf!jongho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Ice Cream Break - @skrrts non-idol!jongho x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Meet My Chaos - @makeitmingi bf!jongho x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Orchard - @sweetiesicheng idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Polaroids - @atinyslittleworld bestfriend!jongho x 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.

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☆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 ⋆｡°✩

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𝚆𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢'𝚜 𝚂𝚎𝚊 𝚂𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚎! 𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖. 𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚢 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚋𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚎 "𝙲𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸'𝚖 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜"

𝙸𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙺𝚘𝚒 (𝚢𝚎𝚜, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚜𝚑) | 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 | 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢/𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖 | 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝙱𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝙽𝚘 𝙼𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚜

𝙽𝚘 𝙰𝚐𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜

𝙽𝚘 𝙱𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝙱𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙵𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚗 Divider by @fairytopea

𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝.

𓆉 𝙰𝚋𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙿𝚒𝚠𝚘𝚗) 𓆉 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣) 𓆉 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 (𝙼𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)

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