I Love This So Much! Another Thought I Had Is Him Secretly Buying Takeout And Pretending He Cooked It

AYO FUCK MIKE, FUCK JINA, FUCK SEONGHWA, FUCK DANN, FUCK HONGJOONG, FUCK EVERYBODY, WE LOVE READER!

I’ve said this before, but dude…we have to kill Mike i’m so serious I need this man gone. Also I knew there was something up with Jina from the last chapter with the comment she made about reader.

I just need happiness for reader cause i’m losing it every time I see a new chapter posted. I’m very much enjoying it as I say after every chapter. Keep up the amazing work! <3

ps. It’s mostly likely because I don’t read everything and jump straight into the story, but why did I just notice it says love triangle in genre.

Popular, Boy

☆10: The first wound.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 8,2k

Summary: A night that was meant to go one way takes a devastating turn. Tension rise, lines are crossed, and for the first time...

Doubt begins to surface in unexpected places.

Warnings: Verbal abuse, physical violence, cursing, angst.... a lot of angst.

an: Request are open! Feel free to request whatever you like (I just don't accept m×m requests)

Series masterlist Join the Taglist

☆09 ☆11: The first truth. Coming soon

It had been days since Hongjoong and you had spoken. Your fight at the club still lingered in the air like an unshakable fog, thick with tension and unresolved emotions.

At school, you acted as though the other didn’t exist, carefully avoiding eye contact, ignoring each other’s presence, and pretending like your worlds hadn’t once been intertwined.

Your friends noticed, but no one dared to bring it up—not when you were burying yourself in distractions, and not when Hongjoong looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

But today, Hongjoong decided to end it.

During his shift at the café, his boss, Mr. Choi patted him on the back, a rare smile breaking his usually stern face.

“You’ve been working hard, kid. Take tomorrow off. Get some rest.”

Hongjoong blinks in surprise. He had expected to push through another exhausting shift, but this?

This is an opportunity, a chance to set things right.

As soon as he gets to the back room, he pulls out his phone and hesitates for a second. His fingers hover over your name before he finally taps on it.

Joongie♡: Hey..

He stares at the screen, wondering if you would ignore him. The three little dots appear almost instantly, then vanish, then appear again.

YN♡: What?

Hongjoong exhales. Short, cold, distant. He deserves that.

Joongie♡: I don’t like this. Us, being like this.

Joongie♡: I’ll explain everything. I swear.

Joongie♡: Let me make it up to you.

Another long pause. He can practically hear you scoffing at the message, debating whether you should even give him the time of day.

Then, finally you answer.

YN♡: Fine.

His heart lurches forward.

Joongie♡: Tomorrow. 7 PM. I’ll send you the address.

He searches for the perfect spot, something that isn't too extravagant but still special. A small, charming restaurant near the city’s main street catches his attention.

It was warm, cozy, and has the kind of atmosphere that feels... personal.

Perfect for what he needs to say.

Jina, behind him, narrows her eyes to get a look of what he is doing. She can see the contact name 'YN♡,' and then he sends a link.

Is he going on a date with that girl?

Without doing a sound, she gets back to her task.

Joongie♡: Sent.

Joongie♡: See you there, pretty.

No response, but you had read the message. Hongjoong put his phone down, exhaling deeply.

Tomorrow, he will fix things. He has to.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You stand in front of the mirror, carefully applying the finishing touches to your makeup over your bruised cheek. Your hands are steady, but inside, your heart is racing with anticipation.

Tonight, Hongjoong is finally going to explain everything. You had spent days drowning in frustration, confusion, and anger, but now, there is a chance to clear the air.

Tonight, everything will be fixed.

Tonight, Hongjoong would explain himself.

Tonight, he would tell you why he had been acting so distant, why he had been avoiding you after school, why he had refused to spend time with you.

He would make it up to you like he promised.

You adjust the delicate straps of your black dress, making sure everything is perfect. Your hair cascades over your shoulders in soft waves, and your lips are painted a deep shade of red—covering perfectly your broken lip—masking your vulnerability.

You take a step back, examining yourself with a critical eye. Stunning as always.

Hongjoong would see you and remember exactly why he had fought so hard to be with you.

Your phone buzzes on the vanity table. You grab it instantly, hoping it is Hongjoong confirming he is already there, waiting for you. But it is just a reminder from your driver.

With a sigh, you slip your phone into your designer purse and grab your coat. As you walk down the grand staircase of your home, you catch sight of Mike lounging in the living room, flipping through a magazine.

"Going somewhere?" He asks without looking up.

"Not that it's any of your business."

Mike smirks but doesn't push further. He simply leans back and watches as you disappear through the front door.

The car ride to the restaurant was quiet, giving you too much time to think.

Was Hongjoong nervous? Was that why he hadn't said much after sending you the address? You shook your head. No, tonight was about fixing things.

You wouldn’t let doubt ruin it.

The restaurant Hongjoong had chosen is small but elegant, tucked away near the city’s main street. Fairy lights hang across the windows, giving the place a warm, intimate glow. It’s a charming spot, perfect for a conversation that had been long overdue.

You walk in, heels clicking against the polished floor as you approach the host.

"Reservation under Kim Hongjoong." You say smoothly.

The host checks his list and nods "Ah, yes. Right this way, miss."

You follow him to a cozy table by the window, the perfect spot to watch the city’s nightlife unfold. You sit down, crossing your legs gracefully, and check your phone. No new messages.

You exhale, telling yourself that he would be here any second. You smooth out your napkin and glance at the entrance.

Your fingers tap against the polished wood, eyes flicking to the entrance every few seconds. Any moment now.

The waiter approaches “Would you like to order something while you wait?”

“I’ll wait,” You reply, forcing a polite smile “He’ll be here soon.”

The minutes drag on. The candle in the middle of the table flickers, barely illuminating the growing void in your chest.

7:15 PM.

You check your phone. No messages.

7:35 PM.

Your throat feels tight. You type a quick text.

YN♡: Are you on your way?

Sent. No response.

7:50 PM.

Your nails dig into your palm. You try not to look at the couples around you, laughing, talking, and enjoying their meals together. You try not to feel humiliated.

8:15 PM.

He 's not coming.

You blink, pushing back the sting behind your eyes. No. This isn’t happening, Hongjoong wouldn’t—he wouldn’t do this to you. Not after everything. Not after all the things he told you, the way he held you, the way he—

Your phone buzzes.

Finally.

You grab it instantly, hope swelling in your chest—until you see the sender.

Seonghwa.

You hesitate, then open the message. It 's a photo.

Your eyes open in surprise.

It’s Hongjoong.

Hongjoong in a different restaurant. Hugging a girl.

The image isn’t blurry. It isn’t vague.

They look comfortable, like he belongs there. Like this is his life, and you aren't in it.

Your chest caves in. The restaurant around you fades into nothing but muffle sounds and blurry lights.

Your phone slips from your fingers into the table, your vision blurry. A sharp inhale burns through your throat, but it doesn't bring any relief.

He… he really didn’t come.

He left you waiting, and he was with someone else.

You stand abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. You don’t care if people look. You don’t care about anything.

You grab your purse, leaving behind the perfectly set table, the unlit candle, the untouched hope you had carried with you.

The ride home was silent.

You walk through the front door in a daze, your heels clicking against the marble floor. No one is around. Good.

You climb the stairs to your bedroom, locking the door behind you. The moment you turn around, the weight of it all comes crashing down.

You clench your fists, willing yourself to breathe, to not care, to be the unbothered YN everyone expects you to be.

But you can’t.

Your knees give out.

And for the first time in years, you cry.

Not silent tears. Not a quiet sniffle.

You sob.

Your body curls in on itself, shaking, as raw, broken cries escape your lips. Your hands clutch at your dress, nails digging into the fabric as if holding into something—anything—would stop you from unraveling completely.

But there is nothing left to hold onto.

Hongjoong had taken everything.

The walls you had built. The pride you had carried. The belief that you could never be broken.

And yet, here you are.

Crying alone in the dark.

Like a fool.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoog is just about to leave his house, dressed in his best clothes, nervous yet excited. He has finally got a day off, and this is his chance to make things right with you.

He checks his phone again, seeing your last message confirming their date, and a small smile tugs at his lips. After everything, he is determined to fix this.

Then, his phone buzzes.

Jina: Kim, I need your help. It's urgent. I'm at the café. Please, just for a second.

Hongjoong frowns. Jina rarely texts him outside of work, and the urgency in her message makes him hesitate. He glances at the time—he has enough to swing by quickly, help her out, and still make it to the restaurant on time.

Hongjoong: What’s wrong?

Jina: Just come. Please. I really need you.

Sighing, he pockets his phone and hurries toward the café, telling himself it wouldn’t take long.

When he arrives at the cafe, Jina is waiting outside, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, an unreadable smirk on her lips.

“I thought something bad happened,” Hongjoong says, a little breathless.

Jina puts on a fake worried face “It did! Well, kind of. I locked myself out of the counter, and I left something really important inside. You’re the only one I know who might figure out how to open it without causing a scene.”

Hongjoong exhales sharply, checking the time. He still has time.

“Alright.”

She leads him inside, making sure to keep her pace slow, stalling as much as possible. When they reach the storage room, she hands him a thin wire.

“I saw you mess with one of these before. Think you can do it?”

He takes the wire, focusing as he tries to get the lock open. His brows furrowed as he works, unaware that Jina has discreetly pulled out her phone, sending a quick text.

Jina: He’s here. Keep watch.

Outside, a tall man leans casually against a lamppost near the café, watching through the window, waiting for the right moment.

Hongjoong is still working on the lock when Jina suddenly steps closer, pretending to peer over his shoulder. She tilts her head, letting her hair brush against him, positioning herself just right.

And then, right when she sees the man lift his phone, she leans in even more, her lips dangerously close to Hongjoong’s cheek.

“Almost there,” The man mutters, oblivious to how it looks from the outside.

The lock finally gives in, and Hongjoong straightens up, triumphant.

“There, it’s open.”

Jina beam “You’re a lifesaver!” She says, throwing her arms around him in an exaggerated hug.

And just like that, flash—The man captures the perfect shot. From the angle he took it, it looked exactly like they were sharing an intimate moment.

Hongjoong checks the time again and feels his stomach drop. He had stayed way longer than he meant to.

“Shit, I have to go,” He says, pulling away from Jina’s hold.

Jina pouts, but inwardly she is smirking “Leaving already? Come on, stay for a drink. It’s not like you’re in a rush.”

“I am in a rush,” He snaps, already heading for the door.

Jina watches him go, waiting until he is far enough before pulling out her phone and sending a message.

Jina: Done. He’s on his way, but I made sure he’s late.

The reply is instant.

Bastard Park: Perfect. Time to deliver the final blow.

With a satisfied smirk, he sends the picture to you.

And just like that, the trap is complete.

✮ ⋆

As soon as Hongjoong steps out of the café, he pulls out his phone to check the time—and his heart plummets.

It was way past the time he was supposed to meet you.

“Shit,” He mutters under his breath, breaking into a sprint toward the restaurant.

His mind races, a thousand apologies already forming in his head. Maybe you are still there, waiting. Maybe he can explain. Maybe you’d understand.

But when he arrives, the small restaurant is nearly empty. The table he had reserved was cleared, no sign of you anywhere.

Hongjoong’s chest tightens. He runs a hand through his hair, breath still uneven as he turns in all directions, hoping—praying—that you are just running late too.

He pulls out his phone to call you, but there is no answer. He tries again.

Straight to voicemail.

He knows he needs to find you, to explain. But deep down, something tells him that the damage is already done.

And this time, he doesn’t know if he can fix it.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You barely sleep, your body is exhausted, but your mind is restless. You hadn’t felt this empty in years, the heaviness of betrayal dragging you into a deep, silent pit.

The house is quiet as you sit down for breakfast, your eyes barely lifting from your plate. Your mother sits across from you, picking at her food.

“Sweetie,” Your mother calls softly, breaking the silence “Have you heard from Hongjoong?”

Your chest tightens at the mention of his name, the flash of the photo still burning in your mind. You don’t want to talk about him—not today.

Not after everything that happened last night.

“Please don’t.” You mutter under your breath, pushing your plate aside, and voice cracking from the strain of holding back the flood of emotions.

Your mother raises an eyebrow, confused “What do you mean?”

You snap, your patience finally unraveling “Don’t ask me about him, I don't want to talk about him.”

Your voice comes out sharp, harder than you meant, but it was too late to take the words back.

Your mother’s face stiffs, hurt flashing in her eyes “Sweetie, what's going on? Something happened between you or—”

“I don’t want to hear his fucking name, again!” You spit, not caring if you are crossing a line.

The silence in the room grows thick and heavy. Mike, who had been leaning against the kitchen door frame, watching the scene unfold, finally speaks up, his voice cold and sharp, a sign of his anger brewing beneath the surface.

“Watch your mouth, YN,” He growls “You think you can talk to our mother like that?”

Your eyes flick to your brother. There it is. The fury in his gaze is palpable, and you know what is coming.

He always had a short temper, and whenever things didn’t go his way, he couldn’t control his rage.

And every person in this family knows it.

"Mind your own fucking business, Mike."

“That’s it,” Mike snarls, his hand gripping your arm with force making you gasp in pain “You think you can speak to me like that in front of our mother? You’re just as worthless as I always knew.”

“Mike, stop!” Your mother shouts, but it’s too late.

Mike drags you by the arm, the grip tight and punishing, as he pulls you toward the stairs. You struggle against him, your heels slipping on the marble floor, but Mike’s anger is a force that can’t be ignored.

Your parents’ voices ring out from behind, frantic and desperate.

“Mike, let her go! This is insane!”

But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t care. The only thing that matters is the fury building inside him, and he isn’t about to stop.

Due to the screaming scandal, the employees and even Dann left their duties to see what is happening to the Clarke family.

“Mike! What are you doing?” Your mother shouts, but Mike doesn't respond.

He is beyond words now, his anger blinding him, consuming him.

Your vision blurs with anger and pain, you want to scream, to lash out, but you can’t. You can’t do anything except let him drag you up the stairs, your feet barely touching the steps.

Dann stands in the hallway, frozen, her wide eyes lock on the scene. She can hear her heart thumping in her chest, but she can’t bring herself to move, to intervene.

What is he doing? What’s happening?

Before everyone can react, your scream resonates in the immense house.

“Let go of me!” You scream, trying to break free, but his hand is like a vice around your arm. It’s raw, desperate.

Dann’s stomach lurch as the scream echoes in her ears. The sound of footsteps grows louder, and desperate shouts. Her breath hitches, she isn't the type to get involved, but this time she moves instinctively, stepping behind Clarke's family and some other maids.

“Mike, stop! What are you doing?!”

It’s your mother’s voice. Desperate.

With one swift motion, Mike shoves you into your room and slams the door, locking it behind him, the sound of it echoing through the house.

Dann’s gaze flicks towards the other maids, all of them looking as stunned as her, eyes wide with fear unsure if they should help or stay away from this.

Your parents’ frantic knocks fill the air.

“Mike, open this door right now!” Your father screams.

“Calm down, and stop this!” Your mother cries out.

But Mike is past caring. The door remains shut.

Inside, the room feels suffocating. Mike’s eyes are wild, his hands trembling with rage as he advances on you.

You back away, trying to create distance, but he is too fast.

His fist connects with your face in a brutal slap, sending you stumbling back into the wall. The sharp pain blooms on your cheek, but it’s nothing compared to the twisted fury that burns in his eyes.

“Why do you always act like you're better than everyone?” Mike hisses, his voice low and venomous “You think you can get away with everything? I hate you. I hate everything about you.”

You try to steady yourself, the tears threatening to spill, but you refuse to let him see you break.

You wipe your mouth, your body shaking with suppressed anger “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why are you doing this?!”

Mike’s eyes flares with rage “I don’t need a fucking reason!” He screams back, his foot crashing into your leg, sending you collapsing into the floor “You’re nothing but a spoiled, ungrateful little bitch.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You try to scramble away from him, but he’s relentless, towering over you, his rage completely uncheck.

“You’re sick! Stop this shit, Mike!”

The words only seem to make him angrier. He leans down, grabbing you by the hair and yanking your head back.

“I’m the one in control here,” He snarls “And you’re nothing.”

✩

Outside the room, the sound from inside—yelling, screams, and the harsh, guttural thudding of fists—is unmistakable and your parents continue to knock, their voices becoming more desperate by the second.

“Please help me open the door!”

The head of the family screams to the staff around when the noise intensifies as Mike shouts again, this time inaudible, followed by the sickening sound of something crashing. Dann freezes, her feet rooted to the floor.

“Mike, please!” Your mother cries, her voice trembling “You need to stop! This isn’t the way! Please—!”

Dann’s breath hitches in her throat as she sees your mother, looking frantic, her face pale with fear.

Your father is right behind her, both of them calling Mike’s name, their voices pleading, but it’s clear he isn’t listening.

“Mike open the fucking door!” He shouts again, his voice no longer calm but desperate.

He bangs his fist against the wood, as if trying to break it open, but it doesn’t work. The door doesn’t budge.

Everyone can hear your muffled screams from inside. They are weak, strain, each one like a stab to the chest.

Dann is shocked, she hadn’t heard you like this before—not ever. You were usually strong, always the one who stood tall, the queen bee who ruled every room she entered.

To hear you reduced to this? It 's too much.

“Let me in!” Your mother pleads, the desperation in her voice rising.

But Mike remains silent behind the door. Then, a sickening crash. The sound of something heavy hitting the floor.

Dann’s hands tremble as she grabs the edge of the railing, her thoughts spinning. She wants to run, to leave, to shut her eyes and pretend she didn’t hear the violence unfolding in your room.

She wants to be anywhere but here.

But there is something else in her chest—something that feels like guilt. A pang of regret so sharp it made her chest ache.

She had helped Mike. She had been a part of his anger, his manipulation. She had stood by and allowed him to act like this, but now, seeing you suffer...

For the first time, Dann wonders if she’d made a terrible mistake. She knew that Mike was rigorous, but this? This is beyond anything she had expected.

“Please, Mike. Open the door! You’re hurting her! Don’t you see what you’re doing?”

Dann could hear the desperation in their voice. Your father—who always seemed so in control, so unwavering—is breaking down.

But still, Mike doesn’t respond.

✩

A bitter smirk curls on your lips. Even as pain burns through your body, you refuse to look away.

"You’re in control? Why didn't you say the same to Hannah?"

The air in the room shatters.

Everything stops.

Mike’s breath stills. His grip on your hair freezes.

Then, without warning—

His hands snap around your throat.

The force slams your head against the floor. White bursts across your vision, pain shooting through your skull. His fingers dig into your skin, cutting off your air in an instant.

Your body jerks, instincts taking over as your hands claw at his wrists, but he doesn’t budge.

"Don’t—" His voice is raw, feral. "—say her fucking name!"

Your lungs burn, chest heaves, but nothing comes in.

You can’t breathe.

A choked, gurgling sound escapes your lips.

For the first time—true, undiluted fear slams into you.

This time, he’s really going to kill you.

✩

The muffled sounds of struggle are alarming enough. But the silence that follows—the eerie, heavy pause—makes Dann’s stomach drop.

She lingers in the hallway with the other maids, hushed whispers mixing with the tense air. The entire house staff is frozen, eyes darting toward the closed door..

Then she hears it—

A sharp thud. A desperate, choking gasp. And the suffocating, terrifying silence.

Just as she is about to move and help, one big man that she never saw before, shoves her aside, frantically searching for something, anything, to break the door down.

“Get back!” He shouts, and then with a final, desperate push, he manages to get the door open.

The sight that greeted them inside is nothing short of horrific.

Mike is on top of you, his hands wrapped around your throat. Your body jerks violently, fingers clawing at his arms, legs kicking weakly against the floor trying to fight back, but his strength is above yours.

Everyone's face turned a terrifying shade of red.

"Oh my god..." Dann breathes, horror flooding her veins.

This is not what she signed up for. She wanted to hurt you, to knock you down from your pedestal, to humiliate you. But this?

This is fucking murder.

Your eyes are wide, body twitching, struggling to hold on.

And Dann’s stomach twists violently at the sight.

"Mike, stop!" Your mother screams.

He doesn’t flinch. His grip doesn’t loosen. His body doesn’t move. It’s like he’s completely gone.

You let out a strangled, rasping noise. Your movements are slowing.

Dann’s heart slams against her ribs. He’s really going to kill you. But she can't move… she can't do anything.

Desperate, your father and some male staff lunges forward and grabs at Mike’s arms, trying to yank him away.

"You’re going to kill her!" Your mother sobs, panic clawing at her throat.

Nothing.

Mike doesn’t even acknowledge her. His expression is blank—twisted—like he isn’t even there anymore.

Suddenly, your body stops jerking.

Panic shoots through everyone in the room.

And Dann doesn’t think—she just acts.

With everything she has, she runs to where the scene is happening and sinks her nails into Mike’s wrist and bites down on his arm, hard.

Mike roars in pain. His grip finally snaps open, and your body heaves as air rushes back into your lungs.

You collapse onto the floor, coughing violently, gasping for breath.

"Sweetie! Get out of my way, Mike!” Your mother says, her voice icy as she moves to check on you.

But Mike doesn’t move. He just stands there, watching them all like they are beneath him.

“My baby…” She cries, pulling you to her lap.

Mike stumbles back, chest heaving. His dazed expression flickers between confusion and rage, pupils blown wide.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Your father shrieks, voice shaking "You almost killed her!"

Mike barely even looks at him "She deserved it."

The words hit Dann like a slap.

She stumbles back, unable to speak. Her thoughts racing, but none of them make sense.

She had never seen Mike like this before. She had never seen him hurt anyone like this before. The boy who had always been tough—yes—but this? This is something else.

“You crossed the line, Mike!!” This time your mother shouts.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” He mutters, voice low and trembling.

Dann’s legs give way, and she sinks to the floor, tears spilling down her face.

She had helped him. She had believed in him.

But now, in the midst of all this chaos, she realizes that she has been wrong. She has been an accomplice in something that she can't even begin to justify.

Dann can’t help but feel the full weight of what she has done—the guilt, the shame, and the realization that she has let the worst happen under her watch.

A tall man rushes in, followed by security, followed by more maids whispering in hushed, horrified tones.

The room erupts into chaos.

Dann reaches out, hands trembling as she tries to touch you, to help you.

But you, still coughing, still shaking, slap her hand away.

"Don’t touch me." You rasp, voice hoarse.

Even in your state you seek to be closer to your mother, and so you do, you get closer until her arms are tightly around you. You turn slightly, looking straight at Mike.

Your expression is unreadable, your lips are swollen, skin bruised, but your eyes—

Your eyes are filled with something deadly.

And then you do something that makes Dann’s blood freeze.

You smile.

It’s slow, broken—full of bitter, quiet rage.

"Now that was dramatic," Your rasp voice is laced with mockery "All because of a name?"

Mike’s face twists. For a second, he looks like he might attack again. But security grabs him, forcing him back.

Your mother turns to the guards, voice sharp with panic "Get him out of here!"

Mike thrashes for a moment, then suddenly stills. His expression remains unreadable, but his eyes stay locked on you.

And for the first time since the night began—

Dann sees fear in them.

You have won.

Not by fighting back. Not by screaming.

But by surviving.

And as you sit there in your mother's arms, breathless, broken, smiling—Dann realizes something terrifying.

It’s not the first time this has happened.

Your way of acting is not in accordance with what has just happened. It's almost like you're used to it by now.

And she is sure that you aren't going to let this go. You’re going to destroy him.

And Dann?

Dann just picked the losing side.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The mansion is eerily quiet after the chaos. The tension lingers like an unshakable presence, seeping into every corner of the house.

You sit on your massive bed, your mother beside you, dabbing a cold cloth against your bruised throat. The older woman’s hands tremble slightly, her usual composure cracked by today’s events.

Your father stands near the window, arms crossed, his face unreadable as he stares outside.

In the kitchen, the maids whisper in hushed voices, and their faces pale as they recount what had just transpired.

Dann sits frozen with her mother at her side, both overwhelmed by what they’ve learned.

"This isn't the first time," One of the older maids murmurs "Mister Mike has always had... temper issues. But he used to just slap Miss YN when they argued. Never like this. Never... this violent."

Dann’s breath catches in her throat. Slaps? Before he left for Germany? Her stomach churns. She was aware of Mike being intense, but she never considered that he might have actually hurt you before today.

Another maid, older and wise beyond her years, sighs, shaking her head.

"I remember the last time it happened. Miss YN didn't cry. She never does. She just took it, and when he was gone, she smiled like nothing had happened. But this time... this time was different. He went too far."

“Our little girl it’s been through a lot because of her brother.”

Dann’s mother tightens her grip on Dann’s arm, impressed by the information. Never in all her years of working for the upper class had she witnessed such a scene

Therefore, Dann keeps thinking about your reaction—about the way you smiled. A slow, broken, bitter smile that sent chills down her spine.

You weren't just going to let this go.

✮ ⋆

Inside your room, you finally move. You reach for your phone with shaky fingers and open a group chat that only has two contacts—Wooyoung and Mindy.

YN♡: It 's happening again.

A few seconds later, they respond.

Babe Min: That motherfucker!

Brat Woo: We’re on our way, babydoll.

You smile, click out of the chat, and call one of the maids who usually attends the front door.

"Do not let anyone in except Wooyoung and Mindy. No one. Understand?"

"Yes, Miss YN."

You sigh, exhausted. Your phone keeps buzzing—dozens of missed calls and messages from Hongjoong since yesterday night.

Joongie♡: YN, please answer me.

Joongie♡: Let me explain everything to you.

Joongie♡: Please, pretty. I’m so sorry.

You stare at the screen before shutting your phone off entirely. You aren't in the mood to talk to him.

Not now. Not today.

You lean back against the pillows, your fingers grazing the bruises on your neck.

You close your eyes.

Mike had made a mistake today, and you aren't going to let this go.

✮ ⋆

When Mindy and Wooyoung arrived, they didn't need anyone to guide them through your house. They had been here a thousand times before—through grand parties, sleepovers, and nights of shared secrets.

But today, the air feels different. Heavy. The grandeur of the mansion, usually welcoming in its cold luxury, seems suffocating.

The maids barely acknowledge them as they walk in, a clear sign of the chaos that had unfolded just hours ago. Wooyoung gives a small nod to one of the familiar staff members, but she only bows slightly before hurrying away.

Neither him nor Mindy speak as they ascend the wide marble staircase. They know where to find you.

Your room is at the end of the hall, the massive double doors usually standing slightly ajar when you are in a good mood.

Today, they are shut tight. Wooyoung and Mindy exchange a look before Mindy knocks lightly.

No answer.

Woo sighs, twisting the handle and pushing the door open.

The dim lighting cast soft shadows across the space, the only source of real illumination being the faint glow from the lamp by the bed. You are lying there, curled on your side, back to the door.

You aren't asleep. They can tell by the way your shoulders tensed slightly at the sound of them entering.

Mindy walks over first, sitting on the edge of the bed. Wooyoung follows, standing at the foot, arms crossed.

“Babe,” Mindy says softly.

For a moment, it seemed like you wouldn’t answer. Then, your voice came, quiet but steady.

“It happened again.”

Mindy and Wooyoung share a glance. They know exactly what you meant.

Wooyoung clenches his jaw “Tell us everything.”

You inhale deeply before rolling onto your back, staring at the ceiling. They look in horror at the bruises that cover your neck and the slight wounds on your face.

This went beyond what it usually was.

“Since he returned.” You start, voice eerily calm “He has done nothing but make horrible comments and make my life almost impossible.”

Woo exhales sharply. He had always known about Mike’s temper, but hearing you say it so plainly—so matter-of-factly—makes his stomach churn.

Mindy, quiet and attentive, reaches for your hand “When was the first one?”

You let out a dry chuckle “A month ago at his party, after his grandiose speech I went out to the courtyard to smoke a little.”

Mindy nods, her grip tightening “That night?”

“He caught me, and slapped me across the face like I was some misbehaving child,” You say bitterly “He said I was embarrassing him and our family.”

Wooyoung swears under his breath, pacing slightly.

“Then the next time, someone sent him a video of me smoking weed at the club a couple of days ago. I dont know who the fuck sent him that, we were the only ones in the vip room. Anyways; he cornered me when I arrived, and called me a cheap whore, and when I talked back—” You gesture vaguely at your cheek “Another fucking slap.”

Mindy’s jaw tightened “I didn't believe your story of falling on the stairs at all, I already suspected that Mike had done something. Why didn't you just tell me that my suspicions were correct, YN?”

You shrug “Not like you could have stopped him.”

Wooyoung runs a hand through his hair, frustrated “But today—today was different, wasn’t it? He's slapped you before, but this is being a fucking asshole.”

Silence stretches between them, thick with unspoken words. Then, you sit up slightly, your tone shifting.

“And as if that wasn’t enough, Hongjoong has been acting differently, too.”

Mindy frowns, nodding “We have noticed, what's wrong with him?”

You scoff “Since I gave him a chance and since we fucked.” You scoff “The stupid rumor at school became true.”

Wooyoung raises a brow, but says nothing.

“He’s been weird. Distant sometimes. Sweet other times. I don’t know what to make of it,” You admit, frustration creeping into your voice “And then yesterday, he invited me on a date to explain everything, but never showed up.”

Mindy’s brows furrow “Did he say why?”

“No… But Seonghwa sent me something.”

You reach for your phone on the nightstand, unlock it, and hand it to them. On the screen is a picture—a blurry yet unmistakable image of Hongjoong in a café, hugging a girl.

Wooyoung stiffs immediately, his eyes narrowing “That place… that’s a café Hwa likes to go to.”

“You recognize it?”

Wooyoung nods slowly, his mind working “And that girl… she looks familiar.”

Mindy leans in, squinting “Where do you know her from?”

Wooyoung exhales, rubbing his temple “I don’t know. I know that she works in that cafe, I've seen her elsewhere, but I can’t remember where.”

You groan in frustration, flopping back onto the bed “Great.”

Mindy places a hand on your arm. “Babe… Do you think Seonghwa is messing with you? It’s strange that he sent you that photo.”

“Maybe. But I don’t trust Hongjoong either.”

Woo crosses his arms “So what now?”

You turn your head to look at both of them “Now?” A slow, bitter smirk spreads across your face “Now, I play my own game. Woo, I need you to go to that place and find out who that slut is. Also, try to remember where you've seen her.”

“Got it, babydoll.” He nods with a sly smile.

“Babe, try to find who sent that video to Mike and have Seonghwa in your sight… I don't know why, but since you said he talked with Dann at the party, it concerned me.”

“Sure thing, babe.”

“Thanks, guys. For everything.” You say sincerely as you open your arms.

They smile as they lean in, carefully embarrassing you in a hug.

“No worries, babydoll. We will help you with that fucking brother you have.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Hongjoong stands outside the grand gates of Clarke’s estate, his hands clenches into fists. The cold iron bars seem more impenetrable than ever, as if they are physically barring him from your life.

He has been trying to reach you all week, but every call went to voicemail. Every text remained unanswered.

He exhales sharply and walks up to the main entrance, where one of the maids, an older woman with a neutral expression, steps forward to greet him.

“Hi, Can I see YN?” He asks politely, although he already knows what answer he will receive.

The maid hesitates before giving a slight bow “I’m sorry, but Miss YN has ordered that no visitors be allowed.”

His jaw tightens “I just need five minutes, I really need to talk to her.”

The maid’s face remains unreadable, she has seen him almost every day this week and he is still firm on seeing you.

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that.”

Frustration surges through him “Can you at least give her a message? Tell her I—”

“She will not receive messages either.”

Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. He had expected you to be upset, but not to shut him out completely.

He wasn’t giving up. Digging into his pocket, he pulls out a small, carefully wrapped box.

“Fine,” He mutters “At least, can you give her this, please?”

The maid hesitates before nodding, taking the gift from him. Without another word, she turns and disappears into the house.

Hongjoong stands there for a moment longer, hoping—praying—that you would change your mind and come to see him. But the doors remain closed.

With a frustrated sigh, he turns and walks away.

He is not going to give up.

✮ ⋆

When you receive the package, you sit on the edge of your bed, staring at it in silence.

A gift.

Just like every time your parents had done something wrong, and instead of real apologies, they showered you with expensive gifts to make up for it.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a delicate silver necklace with a small charm—a butterfly.

It 's beautiful and thoughtful, but it isn’t what you need.

Tears prick your eyes as you set the necklace down beside you, your stomach twisting with a familiar pain.

You close your eyes, swallowing down the lump in your throat.

You aren’t going to let yourself be bought by him.

Not Hongjoong.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann grips the strap of her bag tightly as she stands in the empty hall of the big house, her heart hammering.

Mike leans against the grand piano, his usual mask of cold confidence in place, fingers lazily tapping against the polished wood.

“I was wondering when you’d stop avoiding me,” He says casually, though there’s a sharpness underneath.

Dann swallows “I wasn’t—”

He tilts his head, cutting her off “You were.” His eyes narrow “And I don’t like being ignored.”

Dann clenches her fists “What do you want?”

Mike’s lips curve into something that might look like a smile to someone who didn’t know better.

“What do you think I want? I want you to stop acting like you suddenly grew a conscience.”

Dann’s throat tightens “YN didn’t deserve that. You—”

“I what?” His voice turns ice-cold, and he pushes off the piano, stepping toward her “Are you going to tell me what a monster I am, Dann? How unfair I was to my dear little sister?” His voice drips with mockery.

Dann takes a step back. Mike watches her with something like amusement, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s not forget our arrangement.” Dann stiffens “In case you need reminding,” He continues smoothly, “My parents gave your mother a job, and I'm the reason your scholarship even exists. And just as easily as I gave you all of that…” His voice lowers, full of quiet threat “I can take it all away.”

Dann’s breath catches “You wouldn’t.”

Mike raises an eyebrow “Wouldn’t I? You see what happened to YN. right?”

Silence stretches between them, suffocating. Dann feels like she’s being held under water, forced to swallow the reality of her situation.

“…What do you want me to do?” She finally asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiles again “That’s more like it. Start finding more info about YN, I don't care what, but give me something to make her break completely.” Dann feels sick, she meets Mike’s expectant gaze “Find out what you can, and make sure you tell me first.”

Dann exhales shakily, she has no choice.

At school, she feels lost, she feel like throwing up everytime she thinks of Mike and his threats. How did you handle him all these years?

Her stomach churns.

She should have expected this. She did expect this. Mike was never going to let her walk away. But after what he did to you… after what she helped him do…

Her hands shake. She tells herself she didn’t really have a choice. That it wasn’t her who locked you in that room, who let that horrible scene unfold.

But wasn’t it?

Wasn’t she the one who fed Mike information in the first place? The one who stood by while you screamed on the other side of that door?

A lump forms in her throat, and she presses her back against the cold metal lockers, squeezing her eyes shut.

You didn’t deserve that.

You, who—despite everything—have a reason to act like you do.

And now, Mike wanted her to do it all over again.

A soft laugh escapes her, bitter and humorless. She thought this deal with Seonghwa was her using him, that she was playing the game instead of being a pawn.

But the truth is…

She was never going to win against people like them.

But here she is, throwing you to the wolves.

Again.

But if she doesn’t her mother loses her job. Her scholarship is gone. Everything she fought for—everything she sacrificed—wasted.

A deep, shuddering breath. Dann closes her eyes.

I’m sorry, YN.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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

☆○☆○☆○

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

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

𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Hey, are you busy right now? - @skrrts ot8 x reader (drabble series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Home Is - @skrrts hyung line x reader (one-shot series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 How They Fell For You - @atzloverr yandere!ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓆞 𓆞 If Something Chases You, Run - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Innocent Touch - @yeopoet hyung line x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Heart Art & Rain - @skrrts non-idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Helping Hand - @mulloey producer!hongjoong x singer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Highway to Cloud Nine - @orshii biker!non-idol!hongjoong x mechanic!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Hongjoong Spending That Song Writing Money On You - @m1ngkis bf!idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Hongjoong Relieving Some Stress For You - @m1ngkis bf!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Mommy Issues - @smuttaburger bf!idol!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Open Wide | Swallow - @hausofwoo bartender!seonghwa x server!reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Piece By Piece - @emeraldelysian bf!seonghwa x gf!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Prefects And T(h)reats - @pirateprincessblog slytherin!seonghwa x hufflepuff!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 She'll Chew You Up - @h4untedgrl non-idol!seonghwa x maneater!reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 This Might be Love - @03jyh23 non-idol!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Save A Horse, Ride A Cowboy | Horses Are Still Overrated - @yunhoszn cowboy!yunho x city girl!reader (two-parts) 𓆞 𓆞 Sober - @beenbaanbuun bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Sugar - @mingoooossii bf!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Bus At 11:17 | The Date At 11:17 - @skrrts non-idol!yunho x reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Duality - @naybii bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 La Douleur Exquise - @ja3hwa ghost!yeosang x witch!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 My Doll - @h4untedgrl bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 What’s Your Favorite Movie? - @tinybeetiny ghostface!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Took Me To The Stars - @shixcherie theater actor!yeosang theater actress!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓆞 Little Shop On 8th Street - @jeonginslefthand flower shop owner!san x reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Love Beyond Barriers - @catsannie non-idol!san x reader (smau series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 My Angel - @seongsangssbitch military general!san x goddess!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 PTA Parent - @pyramid-of-starrs dad!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Safe Habor - @cocobeanncteez attorney!san x ceo!reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Rings of Temptation - @crimsonbubble bf!mingi x reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Six Foot Savior - @smuttaburger non-idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Then, Now, And Always! - @alxtiny idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Princess Treatment Chronicles! | The Return Of The Princess Treatment Chronicles?! - @yuyusuyu best friend!non-idol!mingi x non-idol!reader (two-parts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Under The Sheets - @k-hotchoisan bf!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 I'm Not Getting It. - @darlingsaybonvoyage best friend!wooyoung x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Miles Across - @callmeagardengnome idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Only Mine, My Darling - @tinyidle non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Secrets And Stars - @maltesejjong fiancé!non-idol!wooyoung x reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stay Back, I Bite - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!wooyoung x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Random Bf!Ateez Texts - @hwamphwamp bf!jongho x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Untitled - @bombuni bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓆞 Very Demure - @pyramid-of-starrs bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Warm - @beenbaanbuun bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Zemblanity - @in-san-ity mafia!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞

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

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

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

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

Popular, Boy

☆09: The first heartbreak.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 10k

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

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

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

Series masterlist Taglist

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

It’s been a week.

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

And yet—

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

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

"Not today, maybe later."

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

It’s starting to feel strange.

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

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

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

You raise an eyebrow "What do you mean?"

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

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

It makes your stomach twist.

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

You stop walking, slowly turn to face them.

"That’s ridiculous."

Sam shrugs "I mean… is it?"

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

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

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

Why does he still kiss you so sweetly?

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You okay, sweetheart?"

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

Seonghwa.

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

"I'm fine."

"Well, you don’t look fine."

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

"I’m just tired, Hwa." You mutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glare at him.

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

Your blood turns cold.

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

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

"Go fuck yourself, Seonghwa."

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

But his words stick to you like poison.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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

You aren't really hungry.

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

Hongjoong is avoiding you.

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

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

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

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

"He 's fine."

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

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

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

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

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

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

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

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

Your grip on her fork tightens.

Why the fuck is everyone saying the same?

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

Your attention, designer clothes, your heart, sex?

What?

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

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

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

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

But now—things were different.

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

At least… you thought you were.

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

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

You set the fork down with more force than necessary.

"People like him?"

He shrugs "Poor, desperate, climbers."

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

Mike raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your reaction.

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

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

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

Doubt.

✮ ⋆

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

Your mind is somewhere else.

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

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

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

Instead, you type something simpler.

YN♡: Hey, are you awake?

It takes a minute before he replies.

Joongie♡: Yeah. What’s up, pretty?

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

YN♡: I just wanted to talk with you.

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

You hesitate—just for a moment—before answering.

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

You lean against the balcony railing, closing your eyes.

“Hi.”

“Why are you up so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

He chuckles “Touché.”

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

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like he’s not avoiding you.

You grip the phone tighter “Joong.”

“Yes, pretty?”

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

“Kim, can you help me?!”

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

He isn’t home.

He isn’t alone.

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

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

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

There’s a pause “Are you sure?”

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

“…Goodnight, pretty.”

You hang up before you can second-guess it.

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

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

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

✮ ⋆

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

But what other choice does he have?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She 's YN.”

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

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

Hongjoong frowns, glancing at her "Like what?"

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

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

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

"You don’t know her."

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

"Maybe. But I know her type."

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

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

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

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

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

“Again, you don’t know her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's not like that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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

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

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

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

It 's Park Seonghwa.

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

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

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

Familiar.

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

He clenches his fists.

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

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

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

Hongjoong swallows hard, his throat dry.

Maybe Jina is right.

Maybe you are too good for him.

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

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

He should walk away.

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

But he can’t.

Because it’s you.

And you’re his now.

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

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

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

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

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

Now, he needs to make sure Park Seonnghwa knows.

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

“Hey, Joong.”

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

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

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

“Stop it, Hwa.”

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

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

“Guess you did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirk “Are you jealous, Joongie?”

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

Your heart skips a beat.

Fuck.

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

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

Hongjoong swallows hard, guilt stirring in his chest.

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

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

“Are you jealous, Joongie?”

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

But he doesn’t.

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

“You’re mine, pretty.” He murmurs.

And then—he kisses you.

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

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

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

And across the hallway, Dann watches.

Watches as you melt into him.

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

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

That’s when she looks down.

That’s when she finally walks away.

✮ ⋆

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

You should be enjoying this.

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

But something feels… off.

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

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

Hongjoong barely looks up “Can’t.”

You frown “Again?”

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

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

Hongjoong falters “I—”

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

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

Just like always.

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

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

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

This is becoming a routine.

And you’re starting to hate it.

✮ ⋆

That afternoon your house is rarely quiet.

Too quiet.

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

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

Then, it shatters.

"Darling."

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

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

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

The money you sent to someone.

But you can’t tell him that.

So, you lie. Easily. Effortlessly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then—

Laughter.

Slow, cruel, mocking.

Mike leans against the couch, watching with amusement.

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

Your blood runs cold.

“Mike.” Your father warns him.

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

But you won’t give him one.

Not now. Not ever.

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

But inside?

Inside, you are burning.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

You stare at your phone, fingers gripping it tightly.

No message. No call. Nothing.

Hongjoong hadn't shown up at school. Again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, he freezes.

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

“Pretty?” His voice is groggy, confused.

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

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

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

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

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

He blinks “I mean… yeah?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m not avoiding you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hongjoong’s breath hitches “What?”

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

You let out a bitter laugh “Right.”

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

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

He opened his mouth, but no words came.

Because you are right.

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

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

You yank your arm away “Don’t.”

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

The silence you leave behind is loud enough.

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

YN: Let's go to our club.

YN: Take whoever you want.

✮ ⋆

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

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

Screw Hongjoong. Screw everything.

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

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

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

“Here’s to forgetting.”

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

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

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

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

Perfect.

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

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

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

Tonight was only the beginning.

✮ ⋆

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

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

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

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

Mike.

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

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

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

A video. A familiar setting. The club.

You.

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

Fuck, this is bad. Really bad.

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

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

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

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

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

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

“Like you care about my reputation.”

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

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

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

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

“I said shut the fuck up, Mike.”

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

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

You don't get to finish.

The slap comes fast and brutal.

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

Your breath shudders.

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

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

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

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

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

Because if you do, he wins.

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

With that, he leaves.

The door clicks shut.

Only then you allow yourself to breathe.

A shaky inhale. A trembling exhale.

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

And then—you laugh.

Soft.

Hollow.

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

And you refuse to cry for him.

Not anymore.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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

It 's the pain.

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

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

You should stay in bed. Hide. Avoid everyone.

But you have an important exam today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No one stops you as you leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some of them seem to accept it.

But Mindy doesn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And from across the hall—so does Hongjoong.

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

After your fight.

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

But here you are. And something is wrong.

Even from a distance, he can tell.

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

What happened to you?

Was it because of yesterday’s fight?

Did someone—

His jaw clenches, his fingers curling into fists.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Maybe we should just go...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hesitate. Just for a second.

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

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

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

Just for a second. You freeze.

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

Something far worse.

Something close to tears.

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

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

And you walk out before Mindy can say another word.

✮ ⋆

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

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

So, instead, you linger.

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

But you aren't alone for long.

Footsteps.

Slow. Measured.

You know who it is before you even turn around.

Seonghwa.

Of course.

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

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

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

“You look like shit.”

“Charming,” You mutter.

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

“Tripped.”

“Try again.”

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

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

Your grip tightens on the railing.

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

“I don’t.”

A beat of silence.

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

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

“You love it.”

For a second, they stand there, neither speaking.

Then Seonghwa says “Come out with us tonight.”

You look at him.

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

So you nod.

And Seonghwa grins “Good girl.”

✮ ⋆

Wooyoung is not in the mood for this conversation.

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

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

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

Woo sighs, setting his phone down "No."

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

"No?"

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

Park smirks "Because it’ll be fun."

"It won’t be fun for YN."

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

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

Seonghwa grins "Since it benefits me."

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

And yet, Seonghwa is persistent.

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

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

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

Hwa shrugs "That’s what you’re for."

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

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

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

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

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

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

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The club is already packed when they arrive.

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

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

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

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

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

You don't want to think about Hongjoong.

You just want to forget.

And for the first few minutes, you do.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He knew he shouldn’t have come.

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

But here he is.

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

You.

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

Park Seonghwa is with you.

And he’s touching you.

Hongjoong’s jaw clenches.

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

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

Something dark. Something possessive.

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

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

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

Samantha hums "Then why are you here?"

He doesn’t answer, but they know why.

And that is when shit gets worse.

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

And he smirks. A slow, taunting smirk.

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

Hongjoong’s grip tightens around his glass.

He’s going to fucking kill him.

✮ ⋆

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

Because when you drink, you don't think.

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

But apparently, the universe has other plans.

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

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

And worse—he’s staring right at you.

What is he doing here?

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

Straight towards you.

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

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

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

“Get your hands off her.”

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

You blink... The fuck?

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

“Relax, man. We’re just talking.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What the hell is your problem, Hongjoong?”

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

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

“I haven’t been ignoring you.”

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

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

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

You stiffen, and Hongjoong snaps.

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

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

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

"Come with me."

"What the hell—"

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

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

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

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

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

“Just what?”

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

The words are bitter, sharp, dripping with jealousy.

You inhale sharply, eyes widening.

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

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

And for a moment, you just stand there.

Staring at each other.

Two stubborn storms on the verge of collision.

And neither of you willing to back down.

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

Because he 's wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s possessive.

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

It’s not careful. Not gentle.

It’s desperate.

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

And the worst part?

You melt into it.

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

Like he needs you.

Like you’re his and his alone.

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

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

And that’s when reality crashes back in.

Because this kiss doesn’t fix anything.

It doesn’t erase the distance between you.

Or the secrets he’s still keeping.

And the realization twists something ugly inside of you.

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

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

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

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

But you don’t care.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too good.

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

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

"It’s not like that, I—"

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

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

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

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

His face drops "YN…"

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

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

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

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

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

Everything is going exactly as planned.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Antithesis - @kitten4sannie bf!peter parker/venom!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ash - @seongwars pyromaniac!yunho x slasher!reader 𓆞 𓆞 Cervix Kisses - @iannmin bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Now - @xuchiya mafia!yunho x partner!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Second Chances - @lilacmingi best friend!yunho x reader ft.mingi (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 “Forever” Is Comprised Of “Now’s” - @sleep-drunk-kitten barista!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Love Beyond Our Realm - @atzloverr fallen angel!yandere!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Make It Bouncy - @elllisaaa idol!yeosang x manager!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 More Than Cuddles - @everyonewooeverywhere bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Soft Spot - @mingoooossii bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Cuddle Her Better - @defnotririi bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Italian Escapades - @/milkandhwaney husband!san x wife!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Mountains Need Hugs Too - @skrrts non-idol!san x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Ups And Downs - @mybelovedwoo bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Zoo Outing - @littleocean-rose hybrid!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓆞 Bound In Obsidian - @moonisang demon!mingi x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Cornflower Blue - @last-words-ofashootingstar outlaw!yandere!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 God Of War - @atiny-desire god of war!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 In Every Shape - @domm1etae bf!idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Kiss Me - @seobinghard roommate!mingi x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 7:10 AM - @dancinglikebutterflywings dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Being The Photographer At Bf!Wooyoung GQ Shoot - @yeosanitycheck bf!wooyoung x photographer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Daycare - @sweetiesicheng best friend!wooyoung x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Genie In A Bottle - @koyagifs non-idol!wooyoung x genie!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Just Trust Me - @wwooyology fox hybrid!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞

𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Bunny Card Never Declines - @shixcherie idol!jongho x shapeshifter bunny!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Halloween - @beenbaanbuun bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Late Nights - @sweetiesicheng bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸𓈒 𓏸 Pictures - @tinybeetiny bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸  𓈒𓏸 Say Yes To The Christmas Tree - @snwusberry bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

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

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

💫Did I even deserve you?💫

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

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

Both beautiful and dangerous.

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

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

It was not a pleasant road.

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

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

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

A myth.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And like every year he came back unsuccessful.

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

Seonghwa

Your voice.

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

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

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

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

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

Not stricken by grief.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again.

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

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

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

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

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

For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.

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

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

That stung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seonghwa.

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

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

"Y-you did not hear that?"

"Hear what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You.

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

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

You cannot.

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

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

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

Seonghwa. My love.

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

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

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

You have to let me go.

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

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

I love you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It could not have been you.

You were dead.

Gone.

Forever.

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)

THIS IS SO GOOD! I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART! <3

Shadows Behind Shelves (PART 1)

SUMMARY | You, a literature professor turned governess, is settling into your role at the Jeong castle and developing feelings for both the lord, Yunho, and his cousin, Jongho.  You soon learn that the castle is haunted by a spirit who desires to be resurrected and take over your body.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  Smut, historical fantasy au, paranormal, dark academia, fluff, angst, drama

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  mentions of death/curses/resurrection, a creepy ghost, fingering, clothes ripping, oral sex, unprotective sex (wrap it up!), lovemaking instead of fucking (more to come in part 2)

LENGTH | 15,012 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @ksmutsociety @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Soooooooo… This is for @ksmutsociety network's The Velvet Vault event! I'm looking forward to reading all the participant's fics since we all worked so hard for this. It was nice to work with everyone and hype each other and exchange ideas. Love you folks!

Here's part 1 of this 2-part fic lol. It was getting too long (and the brain stopped braining at some point). I hope it's engaging enough that you return for part 2, which is in the works! And yes, more smut in part 2 (for Jongho and maybe a threesome LOL)

Thank you @cheolism for the beautiful banner, @hobeemin for the amazing moodboard (below) to keep my inspo in check and @lovetaroandtaemin for the beta-read as always! You guys are amazing folk!

Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚

“Well, I’m finally here,” you mutter as you look at the enormous castle that looms overhead. 

You had been traveling to get here for some time and your body ached from the long journey. However, now that you were in the presence of the magnificent building, you felt like you couldn’t stop and rest just yet. You thought it was weird when a reclusive lord wrote to you, a professor at a prestigious university, and requested that you be his children’s governess. He must’ve thought you were qualified because you were a literature professor and had read a lot of books, which were important for teaching children. However, there were no references, and no one had heard of the family or this lord that was writing the letter. Yet, you decided to take the job for your own personal reasons.

You were leaving your life from the modern world and everything that was associated with it.

It wasn’t hard for you to leave everything behind. You didn’t have friends, and no one would come to look for you if you disappeared. When you were not teaching students, you spent your life in the company of books. They were the only thing that made you happy and the only things that had stayed constant throughout your life. That was the main reason you agreed to work for this strange lord, because you had heard that his castle was filled with the greatest works of literature.

As you approached the front doors, you noticed how the windows were dark, no light was coming through. Was everyone asleep? The castle seemed eerie in the night, and you had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. You tried to shake those feelings away, knowing that this was not the time to get spooked. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Upon arriving at the front door, you knocked and patiently awaited a response. Your heart raced, anticipation gnawing at you. After no one answered, you tried again, knocking louder this time. You wouldn’t have traveled this far without wanting an answer. On the verge of quitting and finding rest, the door, as if beckoning, slowly opened, urging you to enter. You paused, torn between entering and leaving, ultimately deciding that it was rude to depart without a word.

“Hello, is anyone home?” You shouted as you walked inside, hoping someone would answer.

No one came to greet you, but the sound of the wind echoed in the empty halls. There was no need to be scared. You were hardly scared of things that you didn’t understand, but this place had an air of mystery that made you uneasy. It felt like there was someone else in the house, watching your every move. The only lights came from the torches along the wall, but their light did little to ease the darkness.

“Lord Jeong, are you here?” You called out. You knew it was late, and he might be asleep, but you needed someone to answer you. “My name is Y/N. I am the new governess that you hired.”

Again, no one answered you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You had hoped that someone would’ve met you, but the lack of answers and the emptiness of the castle made you uneasy. You made your way down the hall to see if there was anyone awake. Maybe the servants were still awake, doing last-minute chores before going to bed. You hoped to find someone that could tell you where you could sleep.

You didn’t have a plan or anywhere else to go.

As you walked through the hallways, you noticed how the walls were lined with portraits. The people in the paintings all looked so beautiful, even if they were old and dust had covered their faces. However, it was odd that the portraits seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though the hallway was not very long. You thought about wiping the dust off to see the faces, but you decided not to since they were not yours.

Your eyes wandered down and saw the many artifacts that were also lined up on the walls. There were old swords, shields, and even some strange-looking guns. As a literature professor, you couldn’t help but be curious about what those weapons were used for. The stories of these things would make for interesting research.

You were so distracted by the many relics on the walls that you didn’t notice a figure moving swiftly towards you until it was too late. Something cold grabbed onto your arm and you turned to see a pale hand gripping you. You screamed and tried to break free, but the grip was so strong, it was almost as if it was draining the life from your body. You turned and saw the face of a beautiful man, who looked at you with wide eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here. The doors should’ve been locked,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He had a stern face, his sharp eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He wore a fancy suit and looked to be in his late twenties, but his age didn’t match his youthful features.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m the new governess, and the doors just opened by themselves!” You cried. 

The man let go of you and you stepped back, trying to get away from him. You could tell that he was the master of the house, and you didn’t want to anger him. You were not the kind of person to yell at others, especially your employer, but his sudden appearance and tight grip were enough to make anyone lose their composure.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m Jeong Yunho, the lord of the castle,” he apologized, his face softening. He seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t speak often, and you found his voice comforting. “It is very late, and I was just startled. I didn’t expect anyone to come to the door at this hour. Please, forgive me for frightening you.”

“It’s fine. I am just a little shaken up,” you said, trying to calm down. You didn’t want to admit it, but his sudden appearance had frightened you. And that said a lot since you were scarcely afraid of anything.

“Come, let’s get you settled,” he gestured to follow him. “I will take you to your room.”

You followed him, still wondering what had just happened. The house was dark, no light was coming from the rooms. You wondered why the lord would keep the lights off at this hour. You also noticed how silent it was. There were no voices, no sounds at all. You didn’t think you had traveled far enough for this place to be abandoned, but it certainly felt that way.

Yunho stopped at a door and opened it. “This will be your room while you are here.”

The room was very elegant, decorated in various shades of blue. There was a large four-poster bed with a canopy, a dresser, a vanity, and a bookshelf. The shelves were full of books, just like the ones you had read. You were relieved to know that there would be something familiar for you to do.

“Please get some sleep,” Yunho nodded at you slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll tour the castle and introduce you to the staff and the children.”

“Thank you, Lord Jeong. Goodnight,” you curtsied and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

You were exhausted, so you quickly took off your shoes and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft and smelled nice, like fresh laundry. It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep. As you lay there, you thought about the castle, the servants, and the children. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of whispering, as if the voices were coming from the walls themselves.

The next morning, you woke up early, eager to start the day. The first thing you did was get dressed and head downstairs to the dining hall. When you arrived, the servants were already bustling around, preparing the table and setting out the food. They were all wearing the same outfit: black uniforms with white aprons, their hair neatly combed back.

The table was set, and you sat down, waiting for the rest of the household to arrive. Soon, you were joined by Yunho, who greeted you politely. The man was dressed in a black suit, and his hair was perfectly styled. He looked so regal, but his face was emotionless, his mouth pulled into a straight line. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than he was.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was deep and commanding, but there was no hint of malice in it.

“Good morning, Lord Jeong. I’m well,” you answered. “Is the rest of the household going to join us?”

“They are busy with their own duties,” Yunho responded. “We will tour the castle later today, but I would like to discuss the duties you will have while you are here. First, your primary task will be the education and care of the children. They have not had a governess for a few months and they are at the age where they should learn and be educated.”

“Of course. As a professor of the literary arts, I will make sure to teach them everything they need to know,” you responded. You were excited to have a chance to teach someone, especially young minds. “Will I also be in charge of their daily routines?”

“Yes, their daily routine and their discipline as well,” he continued. “You will have your own schedule and free time, so do not feel as if you are confined to this castle. You are welcome to go out and explore the town or the grounds. There are plenty of beautiful places for you to see. In the meantime, the staff will continue their duties and will help you with anything you need. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I will, thank you, Lord Jeong,” you said, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice.

“Just call me Yunho,” he said, his face softening a bit.

“Yunho,” you said, testing his name out. You liked the way it sounded.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin the tour,” he stood up and led you out of the dining room.

As the two of you walked through the halls, Yunho pointed out different rooms, explaining what they were used for. You saw a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlor, and even a billiard room. There were other rooms as well, but you couldn’t remember what they were. You tried to listen carefully to everything that Yunho was telling you, but your mind was elsewhere. The castle was so grand, and the interior was so intricate.

You had never seen anything like it.

You were shown the ballroom, a music room, and even an observatory. Everything was so grand and it all overwhelmed you. Yunho told you more about his family and the history of the castle. 

You learned that the castle had been built a hundred years ago, when Yunho’s ancestors had moved to this land. The estate had been passed down through generations and was the source of pride for the Jeongs. However, the family had lost many members, and the last one was Yunho’s late wife.

“And this is the grand library,” Yunho said, standing in front of the double doors. The doors were massive, carved with intricate designs. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them.

“I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” you said, stepping forward and grabbing the handle.

“No!” Yunho yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from the door. “No one is allowed in the grand library.”

“Why not?” You asked, confused. You were curious about the books and wanted to explore the grand library.

“Those books are too dangerous. They are filled with stories and tales that could corrupt the mind and the soul,” Yunho replied, his tone serious. “They are the reason my late wife is dead.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could books be dangerous? You knew there were some books that could be scary, but those were fiction. These were books, not demons or monsters. You didn’t understand why they were kept locked away.

“Please, Miss Y/N. Don’t ask me to open the doors. I’ve lost too much already,” Yunho begged. His eyes were pleading with you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were a scholar of literature, and the idea of being banned from reading books was painful. It was in your nature to be curious, and you wanted to find out why the library was locked. But you didn’t want to upset Yunho or lose the job that you haven’t even started yet.

“There is a smaller library for you to use with the children,” Yunho assured you. “You can read anything in there. Just please, don’t ask me to open these doors again.”

You nodded your head in understanding, and Yunho seemed to relax. You wished you could’ve said something, but it was pointless to argue with him. The mystery of the grand library would remain unknown to you. Still, your mind raced with curiosity. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to see the forbidden books. Perhaps it was because you were a scholar, but you needed to understand. You needed to learn the truth, no matter what the cost.

“Thank you, Yunho. I will keep your advice in mind,” you replied. Your heart raced with thoughts about the library and the possibility of learning the secrets that were hidden behind those doors. As long as you were here, there would be no escaping the desire to learn more. You knew that would get you into trouble someday. That was just a part of who you were.

After finishing the tour, Yunho led you to the children who were outside in the courtyard playing. As you neared the children, you noticed a man in casual clothes who appeared to be a groundskeeper or something of the sort. You noted his appearance, thinking he looked handsome. As you and Yunho entered the courtyard, the children came running to greet him, calling out ‘Daddy!’. Despite his age, Yunho lifted all three children as they tried to hug him and spin them around in his arms. His gaze softened as he embraced each child. His stern demeanor was nowhere to be seen. 

When he put them down, Yunho introduced you as the new governess. The children hid behind their father, whispering to him about how pretty you were. You giggled slightly, finding their reaction endearing, and it made you less nervous about taking the job. Yunho chastised the children, and they soon came out of their hiding, shyly offering you their introductions. Yunho introduced you first to his son, Yujin, who had turned five, then to his daughters, four-year-old Suyeon and three-year-old Sujin. You kneeled and greeted them politely. The children immediately attached themselves to you, clutching to you and introducing themselves. While this wasn’t a simple task for you as someone new, you could feel their excitement as they began to speak to you about their interests and their favorite toys.

Yunho sent them off to play once more after confirming when their lessons would start the following morning. The man you assumed to be a groundskeeper watched the interaction between you, the kids, and Yunho. As the children ran off and resumed their playing, the young man stepped forward, offering you a friendly smile. You watched curiously, noticing his youthful appearance. He couldn’t have been that much older than yourself.

“Welcome, miss,” he said. “I’m Choi Jongho, the lord’s cousin and the groundskeeper here. Though I help out with other matters within the castle as well.”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” you smiled, extending a hand out which the young man took firmly, shaking it. You couldn’t imagine that a man of his age could maintain a property as extensive as the Jeong castle. “I hope we will get to spend some time together since I’m the new governess for the Jeong children. Are you their only groundskeeper?”

Jongho released your hand with a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s not a simple job, but someone has to take care of things here, am I right? Besides, the estate means everything to Mr. Jeong, and I care deeply about it as well. He trusts me fully, and that’s a blessing.”

The young man’s tone was genuine and laced with kindness. Jongho carried himself with an ease that reassured you as well. Something about the young man felt safe.

“He’s very nice and has already been treating me quite well,” you mentioned as Yunho joined you two, the children having returned to their previous activities, oblivious to the world around them.

“The staff here all admire and respect Lord Yunho, as he deserves,” Jongho said. “The children are fortunate to have a father so dedicated to them.”

You glanced at the lord who held a similar expression to Jongho, the two staring back at the children, no doubt sharing the same thoughts. You would be lying if you didn’t admit the warmth spreading in your chest from the image. Yunho was gentle with the children, and it made you feel good about taking the job despite the secrets locked within the castle. You still didn’t quite understand what the books could contain, but chose to ignore the curiosity for the time being. Yunho already trusted you enough to open up, revealing some of his past, even if it did spark more questions than answers.

The three of you remained in the courtyard watching the children until they came running toward you again, nearly jumping into their father’s arms. Yunho spun them in circles before lifting Sujin and carrying her back towards the house.

“I better start getting Sujin cleaned for her supper,” he said to the remaining party. “Come on, children.”

Sujin was quick to wiggle in her father’s grasp, as she clearly wanted to walk. “Papa! Down!” she giggled as Yunho lowered her and followed her and the children back inside the castle.

Jongho and you watched as the Jeongs walked off, chuckling slightly in the wake of the energetic kids and Yunho. When Yunho’s silhouette had disappeared, you looked back at Jongho with a bright smile on your face, admiring how the sun hit his skin to accentuate his handsome features. The young man was incredibly attractive, and you hoped you’d get to spend more time with him while working at the castle.

“Well then,” Jongho rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted his stance, “I will go back to tending the grounds. If you need me for anything, you just have to ask. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/N. I really hope we get to spend some time together in the future. Take care of yourself.”

Before you had the chance to respond, Jongho placed his hat on his head and promptly headed for the gardens. There was a skip in his steps, something you couldn’t help but notice as you watched him make his way through the expansive yard. For a man that was around your age and appearance, you expected him to be a little less excited about his chores and duties, especially given the size and maintenance requirements. You almost expected him to have complained a little about being a servant, but he didn’t appear to have any issue with it. This intrigued you even more, giving you reason to pay him more attention in the coming days.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, the maids began setting tables for dinner. With Yunho preoccupied with the children and Jongho busy elsewhere, you decided to explore the grounds for some fresh air. The castle grounds were spacious, and it was important to take some time to explore the vast space. Besides, if you were going to be staying at the castle for some time, it was good to familiarize yourself with everything. You didn’t want to get lost in the castle, since you would no doubt become easily disoriented among the winding halls. The grounds also would be the best place to familiarize yourself. You should have started earlier since now the sun was fading and darkness was settling into place. You hoped to be back within an hour as dinnertime was approaching fast.

Despite the castle being eerily ominous and quite frightening when you saw it last night, it looked gorgeous bathed in sunlight during the day. You couldn’t resist letting your imagination roam about as you strolled around the premises. You imagined a heroine escaping through the open space while wearing a beautiful silk dress. You envisioned her making her way across a stone pathway and into an emerald garden filled with vivid plants and flowers. This reminded you that the castle did seem out of place for being located in a dense forest in the mountains, isolated by many miles. It was fascinating and beautiful in the daytime. Now that the sun had fallen below the horizon, and you couldn’t enjoy the sights, it gave the castle a darker feeling.

On your explorations around the castle, you heard noises that sounded like muffled conversations. However, when you’d check, nothing and nobody would be there. Peeking in the windows and circling around the grounds, you heard these strange noises coming from the castle itself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to explore on your own.

You made your way towards one bench on the property to catch your breath. You were starting to wonder whether the noises you had heard before were perhaps nothing more than simple tricks of the mind or maybe a nearby village. You sat back on the wooden bench with a heavy sigh escaping your chest.

The sounds coming from the castle continued to grow louder. Soon, there would be nothing but utter silence surrounding it again. You thought about making your way back towards the entrance. Yet the mystery of the unknown voices calling out to you kept drawing you back in. You wanted to discover the truth about them. Was there someone or something lingering behind these walls? Was it just an old building creating these peculiar noises? Or had the wind simply picked up slightly to produce such abnormal vibrations? There was no way of telling what had been causing it and you were beginning to wish you hadn’t even considered searching. The only thing left was for you to leave without learning a thing and return safely inside the castle to enjoy the warm fires of the dining area. You stood up but were startled by the sight of a figure that appeared next to the gates and your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Ah!” you gasped in surprise, quickly jumping backwards to avoid falling to the ground. 

You blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness from your eyes. Surely, there couldn’t be any person standing there, right? You looked over at the gates again, but there was no one there. You scanned the area for any movement or sign of a living being but could see nothing besides the trees, rocks, and bushes.

This was starting to freak you out. Sure, you knew that this was a possibility when you took the job, but you didn’t think that anything scary could’ve actually occurred at this location. And why were you getting such a creepy vibe from this part of the castle’s property? Something just seemed different about it somehow.

With a firm shake of your head, you straightened your posture and cleared your mind before heading back inside the castle to take your seat for supper. If you were to do any more exploring, it would be done on the next day with a proper guide. Perhaps asking Jongho to tour the entire grounds would not be a bad idea, since he would undoubtedly be more familiar with the details and stories surrounding the castle. For now, you’d eat dinner, bathe yourself and retire to sleep. This was already enough of a scary encounter, but you wouldn’t let it keep you awake at night, especially on the first evening you arrived.

It had been a few weeks since you’ve become a governess for the children. The kids woke you up in a cheerful mood and eager for lessons. You found yourself sitting in the garden again as you read stories with the kids and watched their natural curiosity shining brightly. Yujin and Suyeon seemed excited but also overwhelmed by the amount of information in the books. For now, you preferred keeping the story to short tales, careful to stick to the knowledge level and time frame necessary to keep them interested. There’d be time later to teach them more complex ideas.

It felt good teaching the children and guiding them. They were quick learners and always happy. The weather was perfect and sunny. The roses and the wildflowers that lined the path leading towards the garden swayed softly in the gentle wind. The smell of nature surrounded you as it filled the air with its sweet fragrance. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the trees above the children. All three of them had their gazes pointed towards the book as if they were focused intensely. After you finished the first reading, the three began discussing amongst themselves about what story they would ask for next. You sat quietly with a grin stretched across your lips.

What adorable little devils.

Their enthusiasm inspired you further to be the best teacher you possibly could, determined to always bring out their best traits and encourage their development. Every bit of work counted towards reaching that goal. Once the day’s lesson ended, they skipped back inside the castle and up towards their rooms. You turned around in the direction from which the footsteps had come and watched Yunho’s face as he walked closer towards you; the sun glistening off the gold buttons and linings in his attire. His eyes focused solely upon you.

“How was today’s class?” The question slipped from his lips smoothly.

“Perfect,” you responded. “These kids are so brilliant. I can tell their excitement was genuine.”

“Is that so?” Yunho asked. “Do you enjoy teaching them?”

You nodded quickly. “I definitely do. It’s definitely different teaching children compared to adult students, but I enjoy both. It’s refreshing. When my lessons finish, I look forward to their little questions. It makes the entire process worth it.”

Yunho hummed his response as the sound echoed around the two of you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you and you noticed the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. A faint blush formed on his cheeks and you blushed at the realization that he was staring back at you, holding your gaze.

“Would you like to join me in my study?” Yunho asked. “Since we are both professors, you in literature and I in art, perhaps I might entertain you with tales of art and literature from times long forgotten and stories you have yet to hear.”  

A tingle ran down your spine from the seductive tone in which he spoke. Never had you heard Yunho sound like this before, but it seemed as if he was offering an invitation you could not refuse. Not that you would have declined it, either. With an eager nod, you rose and allowed yourself to be escorted towards his study.

As you followed him into the massive room and the double-door was shut behind you, Yunho lit the fireplace, which immediately filled the space with heat. The flame reflected off his glasses, his eyes twinkling in the light. When your attention shifted to the room’s furnishings, you found yourself gazing at the stunning fireplace and intricate gold filigree work. It was breathtaking. You turned back toward him, wanting to ask him about its design and purpose in his home.

His fingers danced gracefully across the leather-bound book that he had retrieved and placed before him on a polished oak table, running the tips of them over the smooth texture. It must have been quite old. Probably there’d be hundreds of pieces of knowledge written inside of that volume which could answer questions, solve problems or even make predictions.

“This book has been handed down through generations in the Jeong line and is very precious. Many members of the Jeongs have read it and learned its contents, adding to its importance.” With a satisfied smile, he slowly lifted his gaze back up towards you, speaking. “Would you like to read some?”

“I would love to,” you whispered breathlessly, barely containing yourself.

Yunho laughed deeply at how eager you sounded. He slid the book towards you and watched as you held onto the book with the care that only a well-loved treasure receives. “Well then, Miss Y/N, I would like to share its contents with you. It’s important to understand its origins and meanings in order to fully appreciate it.”

You examined the worn pages, observing the parchment-colored paper. It was bound with thin leather strips on both sides, revealing intricate designs etched into each page and carefully outlined. This wasn’t just an ordinary journal. It was a journal passed down by the Jeongs from generation to generation and filled with their histories and traditions.

You flipped through the pages carefully, noticing that every single piece contained drawings or diagrams with accompanying text describing their purpose. The picture of a traveler leaving his hometown followed a section entitled ‘Journey’. He stopped in front of an enormous mountain and stared straight ahead into nothingness, while standing still for the longest time. Finally, after a momentary pause, he moved forward and disappeared over the horizon. Under the picture, two simple lines had been inscribed: ‘To journey is to live’.

Then the traveler appeared again on another page; this time he appeared to be riding on the back of a horse. The caption read: ‘Traveling is to expand your horizons’ and under it there were more words in small font size: ‘He who sees the world differently is no stranger, but a friend.’ You chuckled slightly, finding a kindred spirit with those lines written in cursive. It reminded you of your own experiences in college and the fact that everyone saw the world through a different lens.

“What do you think?” Yunho leaned forward a bit and smiled at you with interest, curiosity and an open heart.

“I love it,” you confessed earnestly. Your gaze lowered back towards the open book and its contents while you gently stroked its edges with one hand. “Thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure.”

As soon as you said those words, Yunho laughed again in a sweet tone that warmed your soul and brought a smile to your lips.

“Perhaps you’ll join me again sometime,” his invitation rang clearly in the air as he motioned towards a stack of papers to his left. You couldn’t deny that the prospect made you feel quite excited, and you enthusiastically agreed. You needed no more encouragement, eagerly scanning the book once more before placing it gently upon his table.

“Yunho... are there any more journals you could let me read through?” you questioned carefully as his body relaxed against the leather seat, stretching out and closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“Possibly,” Yunho replied.

“Please? I promise I won’t go too far into your family secrets,” you joked lightly, causing him to grin widely while shaking his head in amusement.

“We all have our own histories and secrets. Though, you may be free to go through all journals that I possess if it will please you,” he teased playfully as his brown eyes glittered. The smile adorning his handsome face showed affection and perhaps even a hint of a hope that maybe one day you’d want to learn about all of his own hidden desires and passions. But for now, you contented yourself with merely exploring the knowledge held within these priceless volumes.

Before you realized it, an hour had flown by. The sounds outside grew quieter as dusk fell, yet neither you nor Yunho dared to stir. Both lost in thoughts about the history of the Jeongs and their stories, it took you by surprise when the door swung wide open, revealing Jongho in a state of clear discomfort. The corners of his usually bright eyes crinkled up nervously, but, he managed to speak without faltering.

“I... I need to talk to the Lord for a moment,” his voice was hoarse and his speech slower than usual. You could almost feel his anxiety and worry radiating through the room.

“I understand,” you politely excused yourself while leaving the book where it laid before standing up to exit his office. “Thank you again, Yunho. For showing me some of the journals.”

“Certainly,” Yunho replied. He appeared relieved, seemingly happy about being able to assist you. “I hope it will provide enjoyment during the upcoming days.”

With one last appreciative glance, you exited and closed the door.

“You showed her the journals?” Jongho asked once he was certain that you’d be out of earshot, staring at his boss intently. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yunho, are you sure-“

“I couldn’t help it,” Yunho muttered. His face darkened briefly, a hint of sadness slipping through the cracks of his typically cheery mask. “I had to. She looks too much like...”

His statement trailed off abruptly, but the implication was crystal clear to everyone within hearing distance. They knew what had been running through his mind. The young woman resembled so much of his dead lover. She was a spitting image, reminding him of those few precious days in which he was young and naïve, inexperienced in life and its cruelty, and thought love could overcome anything.

“I’m surprised that Miss Y/N looks like her,” Jongho whispered softly. “How is it possible?”

“I’m sure that her soul is back now to stay,” Yunho breathed deeply and stared straight ahead, his hands fidgeting. “No longer would we have to hear her restless soul wander and whisper among us, crying out our names.”

“You can’t possibly think of bringing her back. It’s too dangerous, not to mention it will be her end,” Jongho argued. “What if things go wrong and she never becomes alive? Are you going to sit idly by and wait forever? For something that could take place never? And if the spell is successful, do you expect Miss Y/N to walk alongside you without questions? You’re thinking of trading another soul to bring back your wife. Would she not end up suffering the same fate, if not worse?”

Yunho looked up at Jongho coldly. “Do you not understand how much it means to me to have her alive again? Even if only for a short period. She deserved it. We could have been so happy if not for everything else.”

“So you’re willing to hurt someone else in exchange for the woman you loved, hoping that maybe things will go back to the way things used to be,” Jongho continued his plea, “the late lady is gone. Miss Y/N deserves the opportunity of a complete life, free of any attachments from the past and all the horrible memories attached to them. You can’t expect to use those forbidden books to bring her back to life.” 

“I cannot continue on without her,” Yunho hissed. His brows knit together furiously as he fought against the rising anger within him. “Our children need their mother, my family and our legacy needs their daughter-in-law, and most importantly, I need my true love to return to me.”

“Think for a second, Yunho. Do you seriously believe the spirits of your children’s mother would be okay with sacrificing an innocent person to resurrect their dead mother?”

“You know what her ghost wants, Jongho,” Yunho groaned, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.

“Miss Y/N isn’t Lady Ara,” Jongho reminded him. “Lady Ara and Miss Y/N have completely different backgrounds, interests and personalities. Even if they share physical appearances, that is all.”

“I am aware. Believe me,” Yunho looked away with frustration evident in his voice. “I know that my wife is gone and that Miss Y/N is alive and well...”

“Yunho, why don’t you just fall for Miss Y/N instead and start over instead of hurting an innocent and beautiful person? Lady Ara’s soul may be gone, but that does not mean that you cannot find happiness without her again,” Jongho added quietly. “The children seem to love her, the staff love her. And I─”

He trailed off and shook his head slowly. Silence stretched between them as they considered everything before them.

“Yunho,” Jongho muttered eventually. “Think this through again before making any decisions. Even the dead are allowed a proper resting place. Is resurrecting their late mother really the best thing to do, especially if they cannot see or feel their mother, anyway? At least Miss Y/N is a breathing person that’s right in front of you.”

“I-I know,” Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts. A part of him already believed Jongho’s words. A bigger part, however, wanted his wife and only his wife. He could still vividly imagine his late wife’s soft smile and laughter, her warmth against his chest and kisses that reminded him of sunrises. Nothing compared to the love and affection she showed him and their little family. Everything in him ached with longing for her touch, her kiss, and her embrace again. If his spells worked successfully, she’d come back to him whole again and to spend the remaining years of his life together with him in bliss.

Yet another quiet voice in his head warned him against those foolish notions and dreams. How could it possibly be wrong when a pure soul was sacrificed to bring back the woman that was the cause for his and his children’s sorrows? Then again, was he truly sure he would gain exactly the results he desired and hoped for? Was bringing his dead wife back really the answer? Could it really fix their broken household? Or would he be nothing but a monster, bringing pain to others again?

“Does her ghost still haunt you?” Jongho probed as his friend remained deep in thought, hands interlocked before him.

“Yes, of course. All day long, I hear her pleas and whimpers,” the expression on Yunho’s face fell entirely at Jongho’s response. He sounded terribly drained. “Even after these three years? I’m glad that the staff can’t see her but the children... I’m sure they’re so scared.”

“Oh, she won’t go after the children, would she?” Jongho questioned worriedly. “Surely not.”

“Yes. You know, the only way that we can appease her and put her soul to rest,” Yunho mumbled. His eyes filled with regret as he sighed. “She... She won’t leave us alone unless we get her back.”

“Give yourself more time and think about things properly again. If nothing works, then so be it. If anything, let Lady Ara’s soul have peace and find its way towards eternal rest,” Jongho reminded him as kindly as he could. “I’ll look through the forbidden books again and write up a report for you.”

Yunho blinked at him blankly for a second. Slowly, understanding began dawning on him. Perhaps he really was overreacting slightly. Maybe his desire had caused him to temporarily lose his sanity. The idea of having her back, the ideal outcome for him, overwhelmed his entire being. Perhaps Jongho’s suggestion would lead him in the right direction. He needed to make a decision soon. For his own sake and his family’s sake.

“Okay,” he finally managed to say. “Okay.”

Jongho gave him another quick glance, almost hesitant before eventually saying his farewell. He wanted to lighten up the mood again, at the same time aware that it was pointless and the lord would most likely shut himself off until tomorrow morning. If there’s anything, he would help. Until then, he’d give the man some space.

As the heavy wooden door swung shut, Yunho slouched into the chair. A loud sigh escaped him. His mind still raced about a way of resurrecting her but also contemplated on the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jongho might have had a point. A faint glimmer of hope sparked within him. Maybe the feelings weren’t totally gone or completely destroyed after all.

He could start over. The opportunity of getting to know and falling for Miss Y/N did cross his mind more than once and her kind and soft personality was a contrast to that of Ara, though he couldn’t deny the way she could brighten the children’s days, as well as the staff’s and even his in such a short time was already refreshing. A bitter chuckle sounded, immediately drowned by the crackling sounds of the dying fire in front of him.

Jongho sighed, unable to hide his concerns. Not wanting the staff to sense something was off, he put on a straight face, ready to head out on another duty. Before leaving, he made sure to leave a small vase of fresh white roses, picked from his own garden and lovingly trimmed in an attempt to brighten Yunho’s room.

Only Jongho had seen through the dark magic he’s dabbled and accidentally cursed himself with, much to their horror, because the once sweet and optimistic lord, blinded by his obsession and desperate feelings towards his deceased wife had used forbidden knowledge no human should dare meddle in, only for it to bring tragedy and heartache upon himself. Yunho never expected the resurrection spell he chanted with so much optimism would end up turning the mansion upside down, that all of them, especially him, would end up experiencing agony so great and unending, until all that remained were only broken memories of his late wife.

The household went into mourning for many months after the spell. Everyone who met Yunho’s former wife adored her, and it had been so difficult seeing Yunho and his children suffer alone with her death. The staff tried to console them and reassure them that even the deepest wounds heal, but the way he fell into darkness left everyone speechless, even Jongho.

The previous three tutors resigned or retired prematurely because of stress and other concerns. None of them could ever reach out to their children enough to make a connection, and even when they did, they still had not figured out the dynamics well enough to work effectively with them. But ever since Miss Y/N had become the new governess of his beloved cousin’s children, his hope in them blossomed, watching their eyes slowly grow brighter with happiness and affection as the days went by.

To Jongho, Miss Y/N felt right for the job, from her enthusiasm when interacting with the young heirs of the Jeong family, to her eagerness to learn about everything regarding the Castle and surrounding area, especially the histories surrounding its location. He watched from the corners of the grounds and various windows to check up on the new governess during her daily routines, the way she seemed to enjoy teaching the children every bit of her knowledge while still allowing time to allow their innocence to flourish and their free spirits to grow and develop, how Miss Y/N willingly included them into discussions or other activities even if it seemed uninteresting to them, yet never forced the kids to do things they didn’t like, always encouraging. He cherished every smile on her sweet and gentle face.

Someday... perhaps... Jongho’s eyes lowered. Deep in his chest, something had changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was. Did his heart start beating differently? Did his breathing become shallower? Jongho shook his head, shaking the strange feelings away, even as the sense that something had already shifted, and would shift more. He pushed back his self-doubt and closed his eyes. There was no way that he could harbor feelings like these when his station would never allow him to have someone. Especially a woman of her standing.

Jongho brought a hand to his face, running it over his tired features.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. He thought his life was perfectly normal and steady. Until recently, there wasn’t anyone who seemed to capture his attention. He felt conflicted, but resolved that the feelings would surely vanish if he didn’t let himself think about them.

Jongho huffed and shook the feelings away. He knew there was no hope whatsoever, especially not at the moment when the lord’s future and reputation is in danger, where all hopes for him to recover are placed on the very governess he’s admired ever since she first arrived here, because she reminded him of the missing piece of Yunho’s broken puzzle: his dead wife.

“Dear god,” Jongho massaged his temples slowly with a deep sigh, unable to shake the image of her smile from his mind. He wondered whether he’d ever stop thinking about her. It’s not even been a week, and she’s already crept up inside his head. The possibilities worried him and sent shivers through his entire body. Why do these feelings exist inside him? Where did they come from and why now of all times when he has to put his life on the line for his boss?

A thousand and one worries ran rampant within him, but nothing prepared him for the day that she suddenly became the focus of his life. Was it because she had turned everything in their lives into something entirely new? She brought light and warmth everywhere she went. She gave new meaning and purpose to his dull existence. He wanted to protect her. Jongho clutched his fists tight at the thought of anyone or anything putting her in harm’s way or seeing her cry. How did this happen? Why couldn’t he control what’s going on inside his head or heart? All of his training, all of his efforts to be rational, completely overthrown by Miss Y/N.

For the longest time, Jongho stared ahead into the darkness. In his heart, a seed had been planted, waiting for its chance to burst open. A dream, a possibility for something bigger than the two of them. What if... What if she felt the same?

He wanted her. That much he was certain of, and although he had never thought it possible that his life would turn into what it’s turned into, it did. No doubt. But the biggest issue with everything: what does Miss Y/N want? Would she like a future by his side? A life with a mere servant, when she could easily marry into the aristocracy instead and obtain riches?

Jongho paused and slumped deeper into the pillows. None of these were questions he had an answer for, nor could he form any sort of speculation for at least in the foreseeable future, unless she showed him something else. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that, for as long as it takes, for as long as the chances of her loving him remained uncertain, Jongho would hold on and treasure every smile, every laugh and every giggle that makes him wish to have his own smiles and laughs with her.

And for the first time in a while, he realized what had brought such joy into his previously monotonous life and now, what he will never, ever, give up no matter what.

Even if it meant going against Yunho.

“Miss Y/N!” a sweet, cheery voice chimed happily as you settled into a chair.

The children had become comfortable enough to act so comfortably in your presence, not hesitating to pull themselves up by you for their morning meal. Every time you saw them in their cute outfits, smiles bright and glowing, and chatting happily away, a warm sense of fulfillment spread through your entire body. What were the odds that a few weeks ago you would have thought nothing like this would be possible, and yet, everything in front of you showed otherwise?

“What are we learning today, Miss Y/N?” Yujin asked, mouth half-full with some cut up pieces of apples.

“Slowly, dears,” you instructed patiently, gently tapping a napkin to his lip. “We are learning more about literature and art appreciation.”

“Is it the boring kind like those dumb books in Daddy’s study?” Suyeon wrinkled her nose distastefully.

You giggled as a certain fondness washed over you. The precious little girl’s blunt opinions and personality never failed to amuse and delight you. Even if they might not like a particular activity, both she and Yujin would sit dutifully next to you and pay attention.

“These are different kinds of books, I promise,” you winked, earning delighted gasps from the two children.

Sujin, being only three, clapped along with the excitement, watching her older siblings. Despite her babbling, there were some basic words of gratitude and greeting she recognized and had begun uttering for each member of the staff, which warmed everyone’s hearts. As you taught the two older children, Sujin would happily be in your lap or clinging to your skirt. She definitely liked following and was quieter, preferring to listen to you speak more than try to recite herself.

“Alright. Let’s go,” you picked Sujin up.

With the children in tow, you entered the room, where several books lined the shelves neatly in organized rows. The previous tutors were highly experienced individuals; well read, knowledgeable and proper. Although Yunho gave his children the luxury of many learning opportunities and experiences, there was something to be desired in that they would not relate well to the children’s age. Children’s education needed to be adjusted according to their growth, development, interests and abilities in order for them to retain their lessons and information better.

Although you taught adults during your time as a professor in a college, being able to teach little children was an entirely new world of its own. But seeing their adorable little faces lighting up with their eyes gleaming whenever you started telling them a story, seeing Sujin clapping her chubby hands or watching them lean forward as they listened intently, hearing them ask questions, and interacting with them. Everything about their childhood was a rare treat. You could tell the children enjoyed themselves tremendously. Their innocent smiles and their wide, sparkling gazes filled with curiosity and wonder were more than enough payment to last a lifetime.

“So,” you began, getting up from the table to approach the wooden cabinet against the wall. As usual, you scanned over its contents briefly, deciding on what to pull out, before turning your focus back to the children, who patiently waited. “I know Suyeon doesn’t like the books in their father’s study, but perhaps she may prefer some paintings.”

“Like pretty ladies sitting on swings or walking near water fountains?” Yujin asked. His sweet question made you chuckle as his interest was also shown.

“There are also plenty of pictures like that too, although most of them will probably show landscapes,” you mused, bringing up a large, bound folio. “How about we try this one together?”

Your suggestion was met with their excited agreement. Once the book was laid flat on the wooden tabletop, you flipped past the first few pages. You didn’t have to say much about the cover or title, as it didn’t take long for the kids to recognize what the subjects of these works were. Suyeon stared curiously, barely able to read the words scrolled upon its cover.

“Are you ready to learn more about the artists behind some of these lovely images?” Your question resulted in an enthusiastic cheer.

While the kids sat with their legs dangling as they carefully examined the pictures before them, you opened another folder containing a brief passage of information that served as an introductory background on the person who painted each work. It would have taken many times the amount of energy to fully explain or discuss each painting itself, much less explain the various aspects of brush strokes, textures, color schemes and so on. Instead, a simplified overview of each artist’s lives would have to be enough until the children can sit and learn without feeling bored.

“What are we learning today?” Yunho asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft grin as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Art. Artists,” Suyeon waved her hands around excitedly. “It’s so cool, daddy!”

“Daddy. Look!” Yujin held up an oil pastel drawing with two rabbits. The sight of him pointing proudly to his art and holding it out made you crack a fond smile.

“I figured today we delve into the arts since you’re an art professor yourself, my lord,” you remarked gently, watching the kids jump about and start on their respective drawings, though Sujin needed more of your assistance. “We could branch out into more literary sections starting later, and of course, I’ll include plenty of reading time.”

“What great ideas. I think the children love it,” he offered up a quiet hum.

“They do have talent,” you added happily. The young master and lady were exceptional at drawing and painting, though not without their moments of struggle in between, to be expected from children of their ages.

“Now, now, my young lord and ladies,” you said calmly, stepping over with the stack of paper and paints, “we don’t want to paint our beautiful clothes, do we?”

Picking up Sujin, her chubby hands filled with green and orange smudges, you rubbed them lightly over a tissue before depositing her on your hip, making the younger Jeong squeal with delight, smacking her tiny palms against your cheek and staining it. Laughing at her behavior, you handed her to the nanny as she came to pick her up. Yujin and Suyeon joined them for a moment.

“Please make sure the children get cleaned up and dressed as well, Miss Kim,” Yunho told the nanny as you organized the scattered materials into their neat piles. The children were adamant at spending every spare second with you and constantly begging you to stay a little longer, regardless of the fact that it was nap time and you needed a break too. “Miss Y/N must also rest.”

You thanked the nanny quietly and bade farewell to the kids with the promise that you will continue your studies together with them after naptime. Just as you were about to head upstairs for a quick catnap, Yunho gently took hold of your shoulder, making you glance at him in surprise.

“You have paint on your face,” he murmured, pulling a clean, soft handkerchief out of his pocket. Before you could respond, the cloth ran softly over the corners of your lips and across one side of your cheek. Your entire face tingled and burned. A sudden warmth enveloped your entire body despite how soft the delicate cloth felt against your skin.

His gaze and expression were softer than usual. Kind eyes that radiated heat, along with an enigmatic smile you couldn’t decipher. Unconsciously, your teeth dug into the inside of your lip and an inaudible sigh slipped through your parted lips. Yunho stopped a moment and surveyed you closely, still smiling with that indescribable grin as his gaze dipped lower briefly.

“Do not think too much,” he added with a low chuckle. You became uncomfortably aware of his fingers gliding smoothly across your skin as he wiped off the extra paint left behind by the children’s sticky fingers, then you watched him refold the handkerchief neatly before stuffing it into his pocket.

It took you another moment to remember to breathe. His proximity still affected you greatly. Thankfully, he stepped back and headed away, leaving you alone to deal with the growing feeling in your heart and mind. How is it even possible, you wondered as your gaze remained fixated upon the dark head of hair until the figure disappeared down the hallway and turned to the corner, when his mere smile and touches were enough to make you lose composure and act shy in front of him? And the thoughts of him touching you, looking at you, thinking about you...just you, in the privacy of his chambers. 

You buried your hot face in your hands.

Being around the man, his charming aura and enigmatic smiles, made you question and yearn for the chance to be held in his arms and in his affections. You sighed deeply, knowing fully well that, although nothing could ever happen, at least the feelings could only fizzle out with time. Surely, this entire episode will pass soon and everything can return to normal again.

To distract yourself, you decided to get some hot tea and snacks from the kitchen. You found Jongho in the kitchens already, nibbling a snack of his own. When he noticed you, he shifted so his seat would give you enough space to sit and dine on the delicious and soothing sweets.

“What kinds of books do you usually read, Miss Y/N?” Jongho suddenly asked, catching you completely off-guard.

“Oh, me?” you hesitated a little, lowering the cup to the table with a quiet, timid chuckle.

“Yes. I was curious and wanted to see whether your likes and preferences are similar.” he gave a hopeful, toothy grin. “Are there any other books or topics you are interested in?”

“Of course. I absolutely love history, literature and language, and art, of course,” you explained, ignoring the thudding of your racing heart, cheeks growing pinker. “Oh, and cooking, sewing, gardening and painting, too. Anything that will allow me to unwind after work, really.”

“What about romance?” Jongho continued, making you grow hot.

“R-romance?” Your brows furrowed, nearly choking on the dessert.

“It’s one of the most popular genres in our town’s library,” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “But you seem to like reading history.”

Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Well, I enjoy all forms of literature. So, there’s that,” you giggled nervously. You didn’t have time to explain your obsession and love with the subject. “To answer your question, yes, I do enjoy the occasional romance novels too, although it depends. They should contain elements that spark the interest of the readers.”

“And what interests you?” Jongho’s smile widened even more as he asked the simple question, turning to you again and making your heart do a backflip.

For a moment, your head was a total mess. Of course, you enjoyed reading historical novels and occasionally light romantic ones, but most of it, you used to read them as an outlet for the day’s stress or when your heart ached from loneliness. As you grew into a fully grown adult and understood your body’s needs, a different craving for literature developed. The contents became dirtier and explicit.

That didn’t mean, however, that you were shameless enough to mention these types of works to anyone. Your eyes looked around briefly, scanning the area, making sure no one could catch sight of how flustered you’d become. Jongho was handsome, that much you could acknowledge as a fact. And in the time that you’ve known him and had been working in the mansion, a faint seedling of some sort of respect, admiration, and desire for something bloomed. The fact that you could imagine him holding you so intimately that you had started looking at his built figure, thinking of his lips over yours, his fingers trailing softly over every inch of your body.

Jongho followed your gaze to find it landed on the servants. To others, they were chatting and conversing with each other and working about the area while preparing to serve tea for afternoon refreshments. It was simply them going about doing their duties. “Miss?”

“Hm?” you uttered. “Yes?”

Jongho shifted towards you, leaning forward and casually adjusting his legs while sliding his hands closer to where yours rested on the table. His height caused his shoulder to hunch forward slightly, so his breath wafted across your cheeks, warm and soft. His handsome features, his neatly slicked hair, his gentle expressions, you could stare at his gorgeous features for hours and not grow bored with taking everything in. “Are you okay? You seem to be quite flustered.”

“Oh? Flustered?” A high-pitched noise escaped your lips, sounding more like a broken screech. “Me? I was just thinking that─”

You quickly cupped the cup with a nervous smile and drank more of the refreshing lemon drink. Your throat was tight. Was it getting warm? The way you shifted in the seat revealed the discomfort in between your thighs that continued to grow worse. Jongho had somehow affected your hormones without realizing.

“I-it’s nothing. Nope! Just me and my silly thoughts.” you swallowed thickly, fanning your heated face with your free hand.

You couldn’t understand why you started feeling this way for both Yunho and Jongho. These feelings weren’t like the kind that you’d had experienced before with anyone else. You’ve had your fair share of men, though folks would call you promiscuous because they didn’t believe any good woman would associate themselves with those kinds of folks. But with Yunho and Jongho, there was this unfamiliar sensation in how you reacted whenever you saw them. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you liked this. A lot. You loved feeling the butterflies in your stomach. 

This sweet, new thing.

“Your face is pink,” Jongho noted casually. There was no hint of teasing. It was spoken with genuine, quiet worry that caused an oncoming headache, coupled with the dryness in your throat. “Perhaps you should lay down.”

Your lips tightened and pursed. “I will, I think.”

You dabbed at the corner of your mouth and then left the servant to clean up in order to exit to your bedroom to lie down. However, instead of a long and dreamless nap, your mind became filled with dreams and fantasies of what could be. Of Jongho and your fingers entwined, him leaning closer to steal a kiss, his lips so tender upon your own and his body flushed to yours, skin tingling with need. Of Yunho’s powerful arms around you, shielding you, and his breath hot and husky as he murmurs his affections, kissing you deeply with a passionate neediness. The images made you sigh heavily into the bedsheets, letting out all the tension that you had no other place for.

And deep down, you felt almost certain that there might be a place for both men within your heart.

The thoughts surrounding Yunho’s mind as he slept that night were those of Miss Y/N, whom he was growing more accustomed to seeing and thinking of each passing day. Every time, when she walked past him and greeted him or when she lingered near, he would breathe her in, notice every little detail like the crinkle near her mouth when she laughed and the light in her beautiful eyes. And just when he thought that she would be ingrained in his mind, her figure would change to that of his late wife, the curves, the colors and her voice would change into her tone.

Her face appeared a lot clearer than it has been for years. Almost as if she was here beside him, lying next to him with one arm and her head draped lazily across his chest as she fell asleep to him, running his fingers gently through her smooth locks. Even her touch, her sweet smell. It felt so real, as if it was not the first time he’d had her in his arms.

With a quick inhale and a shift of his head, his hand dropped limply onto the soft covers, and the rest of her figure faded from his mind. Her memory would always linger with a bit of uncertainty that threatened to spoil his mood. How strange, Yunho thought to himself as his eyes reopened to see the soft, plush bedding covering his bare chest. In the distant corner, moonlight continued to filter into the large room, bathing all the furniture in a silver glow. For the longest while, he remained motionless and stared at the ceiling. The cold sheets caressed him lovingly as he curled against his pillow.

He heard the whispers, the voices, coming from the walls, filling his brain, filling his very being. Was he becoming crazy? Every night, it grew stronger; the voices, her, trying to draw him into an ever-growing darkness.

“Yunho,” the whispers, the dead hiss came, causing him to clutch his pillow with white-knuckle strength, nails digging into the silky material as he clutched his head with his other hand.

They were always there; waiting for him, waiting for him to do... something.

“Yunho,” her breath, her breath was against his ear now.

“Yunho,” she hissed. “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. Don’t you want me, Yunho? Do you not want me? Yunho? Yunho!”

He closed his eyes, gripping the blankets in both fists, feeling her invisible touch on the backs of his shoulders. “No,” he whimpered, “not anymore, not anymore!”

The feel of her icy fingers on his chest sent ice into his heart. It felt like death in his ears, in his chest, in his mouth. Yunho squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt a hard shudder overcome his entire form.

“Give. Me. What. You. Promised.” Her voice grew louder, a silent roar, and louder, her words growing indistinguishable as he sat in silence, a tremor overtaking his body. Yunho could feel her fingernails drawing small circles and spirals upon his bare skin, and her mouth was cold upon his ear, her breath harsh and wet. “You promised me eternal life. Give it to me.”

He opened his eyes, staring at the ghostly apparition of his late wife who still continued to hover before him, grinning and chanting in that harsh, otherworldly voice. “I can’t... Not when the body you want is a breathing, living thing!” Yunho gritted through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you love me?” She snarled. “Don’t you miss me?”

He stiffened, not wanting to reply, as the sight of his former, most beloved person standing before him with such unabashed cruelty was too much. He kept silent, hearing his heart beat faster as the cold spread in his chest, like frost burning up the core of him.

“Tell me, dear,” her voice lowered, cooing and breathless in his ear, “do you still love me, after everything that happened, Yunho?”

He didn’t know how to reply. So many mixed emotions rose and threatened to overflow. The coldness in his bones and her heavy weight, the dread, the dread all sinking down upon him until he finally whispered,

“Yes...” Yunho looked at her, unflinching. His resolve held for this one second as the memories, the old fears, the hatred flooded him all the same.

She smiled, eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight.

“Do you wish you had me by your side, again?” She cooed and reached forward. “She looks like me, you know. You can have us both. Tell me, tell me.”

Yunho closed his eyes, shaking them, wanting to rid himself of the ghost before his eyes, his ghost, the vision before him, and then he cried aloud, “NO!”

And when he felt the warm hand that touched his arm gently, Yunho flinched away with a heavy gasp.

“My lord?” the quiet voice came. Yunho opened his eyes, the ghost of his late wife, nowhere to be seen. In her place stood his very real, breathing person.

You looked down at his sweat drenched body, a clear sign he was either having fever or having a nightmare. You head the sounds coming from his bedroom and dashed towards him to investigate the situation. Now, standing at the bedside and examining his poor sleeping figure and seeing how he tossed and turned.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, not caring that you were just in a thin layer of chemise that barely concealed all of your most intimate areas, or that he was naked from the waist up.

“Mmhm,” his throat muscles bobbed. It was all Yunho could manage through the overwhelming need and desire. You. He needed you. He needed someone else. Anyone other than her. She would not haunt him for long, not when he had a mind and will of his own. Not when he had you.

“I-I....” the man shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him so that you lay flat on the bed, his body hovering over you.

The blanket had moved aside and fell completely from his torso to the mattress, showing off the stunning upper body, tousled and messed hair, and a glint in his half-closed gaze. You exhaled shakily, still unmoving.

“Please. I... just want you. Just tonight,” he breathed, looking up from your cleavage. He captured your lips with his own, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Stay with me tonight.”

The gentleness, his words, and his touch seemed to burn into your skin. His hands moved up your arms, pinning them above your head as he devoured your mouth and your neck. His knee settled nicely between your legs. With every word, his teeth, tongue and lips trailed over the tender skin of your exposed throat and collarbone.

It felt right; his firm, warm body pressed to your own, the gentle tugs of his hands upon the flimsy chemise, the slow drag of his thumb across your lips, the feather-light brushes and caresses, his mouth upon yours, exploring, dominating, yet coaxing out your desire. The soft noises you make and the whimpers of his name urged him forward, spurring his hunger.

“Do you want me? Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. His mouth was so close that you felt his hot breath washing over your wet lips, making you shiver. “Please.”

“I want you,” you gasped, overwhelmed by your desires and needs and unable to say more. Your lips yearned for him. For his taste and his scent. You wanted nothing more but him.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he reached down with one hand to press a finger to your slick sex, dragging it upwards, sending your hips bucking and arching from the pleasurable shock that ripped through you. “Yunho....”

“I...” his breath quivered. “Is it alright?”

He was hard, unbelievably hard against your thigh and his tent was already apparent in the loose trousers he was wearing. Even so, his kind nature urged him to be respectful. “Is it?”

He glanced up and down at your bare and quivering form, taking in the curves of your soft, lush skin and the dips between. His gaze lingered on your full and luscious breasts with its stiffened peaks, so tantalizingly inviting and luring. You wiggled one of your hands free, grasping the hand that was on your sex, squeezing it as you smiled tenderly.

“Yes,” you breathed softly, and his eyes bore back at you in shock. “I am willing.”

After hearing your words of consent, he inserted a long finger inside you. You gasped loudly and arched your back as his mouth latched onto one hardened bud, taking your breast into his mouth, sucking greedily and harshly. He added another finger and began to slide his fingers in and out, allowing the tip of his fingers to run across that spot he knew would have you writhing in pleasure.

You bucked your hips again to meet the pace of his fingers, as you tried your best not to moan louder and louder. “P-please... Oh! Yunho, please.”

It felt as if every nerve ending in your body was alight and ready for his touch, to feel his heat wash over every inch of your exposed skin, even his soft breathing. As he pressed his body flat and covered your entire form with his own, the entire room seemed to dim, your hearing and vision a mess, every sound muted and faraway as you succumbed to the feel of Yunho’s hands and the press of his weight over you, which somehow reassured you.

“Hush now,” his low voice tickled your ear, making your entire body shake with anticipation and need. “Let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. So good.”

You found yourself moaning from his husky and thick voice alone. He rolled his hips to emphasise the point, dragging the hardened bulge against the inside of your thigh. He removed his hand from you only to rip your chemise cleanly down the middle.

“I’ll get you another one,” he chuckled when he saw your surprised face.

“How am I supposed to go back to my bedroom?” you managed between huffs.

“You don’t,” Yunho murmured, taking hold of both your hands in one grip again, pinning them together. “I intend to keep you all night long until the sun rises. We’ll see if you are not absolutely spent by then.”

Before you could utter another word, Yunho trailed, kissed down the valley between your breasts and all the way to your stomach, dipping the tip of his tongue in the tiny curve where the muscles in the belly are. Your senses were over flooded from every lick and stroke, each graze of his teeth, his hands and his mouth, kissing you, kneading you, stroking you, anywhere and everywhere.

Suddenly, there was an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Yunho rising. His hands made quick work of undoing the cord that kept his pants tied in place.

“Open your legs,” Yunho’s hot breath fanned over your cheeks as he breathed raggedly. He urged, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh lightly. “Wider.”

Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled down your body, his fingers all the way to the inner part of your thighs, pulling and spreading them apart for him. Without a warning, his tongue laved at your damp opening, drinking your essence greedily as you writhed and moaned beneath him. A firm hand went to your stomach, preventing you from moving too much as Yunho’s lips covered your swollen folds. You pulled on the silken strands of his hair, earning a growl of approval, and moaned softly at the sensation of his warm breaths fanned over your clit. His tongue swirled over your entrance, driving you absolutely mad.

With his talented and torturous mouth, Yunho didn’t take much longer until your release spasmed throughout your entire being, shattering your every thought and coherency. Yunho didn’t relent and continued devouring you, prolonging your release until you were forced to use your free hand to push his head away. When your breathing finally evened out, you felt Yunho shift, his weight above your pelvis, and his solid erection laid heavily between the apex of your thighs.

“Y/N,” his hands moved to your wrists once again. And, as you felt him enter your walls and slide deliciously along your soaking, moist flesh, he took your lips in a kiss, claiming your mouth and drawing a breathless gasp from you as his length filled you and stretched you most deliciously, stealing your breath away. The two of you settled into a delicious rhythm with his cock stroking in and out and with the thrust of his hips in perfect sync with your rocking. “You feel so good.”

The deep grunts that followed had you burying your nails into his skin, the need for him increasing as you could almost hear the thudding of your heart as Yunho’s movements got quicker, causing you to arch against his chest. There were no thoughts in your mind and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that escaped your lips. With his hand guiding your leg around him and the other supporting him, Yunho sank his length deeper inside you.

“So warm,” he shuddered in disbelief as his breathing became more ragged, the scent of his cologne and arousal hitting you directly, along with the droplets of sweat that began to form on his back. You moaned and whispered his name repeatedly like it was a spell, knowing that he needed more than just your words.

His low growls were so close to your ear, urging you to continue chanting his name with every movement until a small whimper broke from you, a soft, “oh.”

“Look at me,” his lips grazed your earlobe as you mewled and jerked your hips to meet his deep thrust. He needed to see the look of complete surrender on your face when he finished you. He wanted to see every detail.

“Yunho,” you let out a soft moan.

“Now,” he whispered in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine, drawing a gasp from you as he snapped his hips, embedding himself to the hilt. “Come for me.”

A cry, sweet and wanting, was forced from his lips, as Yunho wrapped his hands around your throat, capturing the moan in another kiss, making you feel the warmth radiating between your connected bodies. He breathed heavily and groaned at the contact of his throbbing erection in your heat. As if responding to your need, he squeezed the globes of your rear gently before continuing his rough and hurried strokes.

When the tension and pressure grew too great, Yunho couldn’t control himself. He climaxed with a deep grunt and your name. All his strength seemed to abandon him and his weight toppled over, leaning on you. Immediately, he shifted and placed a kiss at the top of your forehead, gathering you close to his sweat slicked skin with your head nestled under his chin.

Your hands roamed all over the expanse of Yunho’s broad, warm chest as his heartbeat started to slow. One hand pushed a stray strand away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks, moist and slightly swollen lips, and tousled hair. Yunho looked gorgeous and absolutely stunning underneath the pale moon that continued to provide its illuminating light.

His eyelids fluttered open to look directly into yours. With his right hand, he drew your face towards him. Your breath hitched as Yunho rested his forehead upon yours, his thumb grazing across your lips. He sucked in a deep breath and whispered something in a tone that you could not catch. Afterward, he moved downwards and connected his mouth to yours, kissing your lips fervently, relishing every little moan you emitted.

“You’re beautiful,” he uttered in the brief pauses between kisses, making you chuckle. “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “What happened to you earlier?”

With a furrowed expression, you witnessed the dark look that crossed Yunho’s handsome features. The way he carried himself, the quiet elegance he always displayed. It was all still the same, but there was also something hidden and tucked behind his person. Like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Yunho shook his head. “There’s... a lot of things that’s happened, Y/N. It’ll take a long time to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you replied quietly, brushing a thumb against his cheek.

Yunho merely looked at you, studying every minute detail of your face, committing everything to memory. At that moment, there was nothing else but you and Yunho. Nothing and no one could have this. And the way you spoke, the way your gentle hands moved across his skin as you spoke, the very fact that he was talking about something he hadn’t touched upon in the years of your company, caused him to think. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, after all.

“If there’s a reason,” you murmured slowly and cautiously as you rested a hand upon his naked chest, “a reason that has prevented you to open up and talk, I hope that in time, you’ll be willing to tell me what troubles you, Yunho.”

With a smile tugging his lips upwards, a genuine smile, Yunho held you close. For the first time in years, there was a spark of hope and warmth he could feel and it was not a hallucination, no.

It was very real.

One month passed by relatively fast.

You were standing next to Jongho, waving at the departing carriage that Yunho and the children had departed in. Yunho and the children were heading to the capital for the holidays, as was the custom for nobles to do. Sujin was clinging on to you for dear life and refused to leave, wailing and screaming in anguish, holding you tight in her embrace while the other two children joined her in their wails. Their loud sobs drowned out all the noise of the bustling servants and horses.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” you muttered, rubbing the child’s back soothingly and in a voice loud enough to be heard amongst the chaos. The toddler buried her face further into your chest, nodding slowly while sobbing quietly. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

Yunho sighed and walked up behind, gently peeling off Sujin from her iron grip.

“You have to let go, baby,” he soothed and smiled comfortingly.

“Papa, no!” she wailed, digging her face against Yunho’s chest with a new set of sobs. The older gentleman gave you a helpless look and sighed. You only offered a supportive smile in response.

“The sooner you let go, the sooner we can return and you can see Miss Y/N again,” Yunho cajoled with the toddler, still not relenting her hold on his shirt.

Yunho waited patiently as Sujin processed his statement and pulled her face back, still sniffling and sobbing and hiccupping. She nodded vigorously. “Uh, huh.”

“Alright. Say goodbye, now,” Yunho said sternly. The toddler pouted with tears dripping down her red face.

“Bye-bye mama,” she cried. “Bye-bye!!”

You stood there frozen and startled beyond belief. The children and everyone around them went still with astonishment as a sudden awkward silence washed over everyone and they stared back and forth. Your mind went blank and unresponsive, incapable of forming any thought and even a simple word as the small and fragile girl wrapped her arms around your neck once again, causing the spell to break.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” not bothering to correct the toddler. You embraced the little girl, taking in the smell of her soft baby hairs. With one final cry, the toddler released you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Jongho, keep Miss Y/N and the rest of the staff well,” the nobleman addressed to the younger man with a slight blush dusted over his cheekbones. He offered an apologetic grin before sending a knowing look your way and nodded, retreating inside his carriage with the crying kids trailing behind. The carriage shook roughly and then, with the sound of rattling wheels, was off.

“Mama, huh?” One maid let out a teasing grin. “Seems like the little lady has already taken a liking to you, Miss Y/N.”

“What do you expect? Miss Y/N is the closest to a mother figure that the young lord and ladies have.” The house steward, old and grizzled as he was, merely hummed in thought, stroking his beard in contemplation as he watched the retreating carriage fade in the distant hills.

“I don’t mind it at all,” you laughed. “Sujin is three, after all. She doesn’t understand much.”

“Just wait, Miss Y/N. In no time, all three children will start calling you mama. That would be adorable,” one of the kitchen maids added. Everyone began to chat animatedly. “The master already has affection towards you. It’s only a matter of time until those adorable tykes start picking up on his feelings.”

“What are you all saying?! That would never happen!” You blushed bright red as everyone burst out laughing.

Jongho chuckled. “Now, now. Let’s all get back to our duties. The sooner we all finish, the sooner we can finally relax!”

With Jongho’s cheerful remark, the atmosphere turned jubilant. The servants immediately scattered back to their stations and went back to their responsibilities. However, Jongho stood next to you. “You know he cares about you.”

“He-we’re not together!” You protested loudly, waving your hands frantically in front of you. “There’s no way he can like a woman of my stature.”

“Are you blind?” He laughed, patting your shoulder with a wide grin. “Everyone in this entire mansion and even the children have taken to you. You’ve fit right in like you were always a member here.”

“And you? Did you like having me around here as well, Mister Jongho?” You looked at him. You teased, a grin on your lips. 

“More than you know. To me,” Jongho beamed, a look of pure relief overcoming his entire form. The burden that he had carried seemed to have evaporated. He nodded toward the large estate and the shrubbery in the garden. “To me, it’s almost like you were here to watch over all of us. Because, if anything, there was no one that has loved us like the way you did.”

“Jongho....” Your chest tightened. There was something about his eyes. Something about the way they took you and held you with utmost trust and admiration that brought joy into your heart.

“I know that, like all humans, Lord Yunho had his share of tragedies in the past,” the groundskeeper began quietly, as his gaze wandered to the green hills and to the morning sun, bathing him in a soft glow and accentuating his firm jaw and soft, brown hair.

“Can you tell me... about what happened?” you asked. “No, never mind,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to if-“  

“No. It’s alright. You need to know,” he gave a strained laugh and gestured you to follow him. You and him walked down a path in the enormous garden, Jongho taking extra time to make sure all the shrubbery were in check and that the plants looked neat, pruned, and trimmed to his liking. The both of you stood underneath a small pavilion and sat at a table facing the fountain.

“What happened to her?” You asked him in a soft whisper.

“You mean Lady Ara?” His gaze lingered upon the lilies floating peacefully along the surface of the pond. He clenched his fingers tightly. “You look like her, you know. She was so vibrant, warm, gentle, and beautiful. But during the last few months of being pregnant with Miss Sujin, her health and strength began to wane.”

Your face showed concern. “How?”

“The grand library,” Jongho didn’t bother to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes followed a lone dove that alighted near one lily. Its wings fluttered against the cool wind and the breeze blew through his locks softly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Three months prior to little Sujin being born, Lady Ara was reading a book that wasn’t meant to be read.”

“What were they about?” You questioned quietly and carefully as the younger man’s brow furrowed.

“Old magic,” Jongho hesitated. He was visibly nervous and when you reached out to squeeze his hand, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped onto your hand with such a hard grip, his face contorting and crinkling in pain and horror that you almost feared he had broken a bone or two in his hand. “And with old magic, came a price.”

He swallowed and continued in a low, shaking whisper. “Her life.”

Silence was the only answer he received. So, he continued.

“Thank the goddess that little Sujin was spared the curse that was bestowed upon Lady Ara, but....” A bitter, defeated chuckle was heard as he stood from the bench. He picked up the clippers that laid upon the ground and snipped a tiny branch. “It would only be a matter of time before the curse took Lady Ara’s life. She didn’t make it through and now her ghost haunts the castle.”

“Ghost?” you asked.

“Haven’t you heard whispers? Chilling voices down the halls sometimes at night?” Jongho asked.

“So I’m not going crazy,” you whispered. “No wonder I hear these voices.”

“The staff and the children can’t hear or see her,” Jongho finally finished as he took his seat again. The old and withering rose bush branches were shedding their petals at a rapid pace as he pruned the branches and pulled at the weak buds. “But Yunho and I still do. Ever since her death, she’s been plaguing and tormenting both of us in different ways.”

You chewed at the insides of your bottom lip. “Why her?”

“Because her ghost is tied with that old book she read,” Jongho said.  

“Can’t Yunho burn the book?” you asked. “I’m certain that would set her spirit free.”

“We tried, many times.” Jongho merely shrugged with a helpless look. He stabbed his clippers on the wooden bench with a sigh. “When the first two tries failed, it got worse. Whenever Yunho attempted to do such a thing, Lady Ara’s ghost would wail so loud and horribly. Yunho and I would find ourselves being paralyzed, unable to move or speak. And when we asked her what she wanted, she hissed that she didn’t want to go. That she wanted eternal life.”

“Jongho,” you said.

He snorted a little and turned his head away in shame, not meeting your worried and alarmed expression.

“What’s going on?” you asked.  

“You. She wants you, Y/N.” Jongho pressed a trembling hand against his temple. “She wants to take over your body.”

TO BE CONTINUED

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

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

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜

𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎

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

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 ⋆｡°✩

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

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

🐟 k - kids by current joys

🐟 o - odd reasons by donovan melero

🐟 i - it’s you by ateez

I can’t recommend much music, but hey it’s something

MOOT / TAG GAME !

mission— spell your real name / name you use on tumblr with songs you like >< ready, set, go !

m — my love, mine all mine (mitski)

i — i love you, i’m sorry (gracie abrams)

c — coraline (lyn lapid)

k — killshot (magdalena bay)

i — i know you (faye webster)

e — either way (ive)

tagging— @puma-riki @flwrstqr @liwinly @woniefication @lilificationn @stvrriki @okwonyo + anyone else who wants to join !