latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

Popular, Boy

☆05: The first fracture.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!Reader

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

wc: 10,5k

(sorry, lot of important things)

Summary: Mike's return brings back old wounds, family cruelty, and impossible expectations. Amidst it all, you find solance on Hongjoong.

But alliances form, and the game shifts... you have no idea what's coming.

Warnings: Verbal abuse, family being mean, manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆04 ☆06: The first move.

The living room of the Clarke residence gleams with quiet opulence. Everything is meticulously arranged—vases of freshly cut lilies, trays of delicate hors d'oeuvres, and glasses of sparkling champagne.

Your mother flutters around, checking every last detail, while your father adjusts his tie for the third time.

You sit stiffly on the cream leather sofa, arms crossed. Your outfit—an expertly styled designer ensemble of a short skirt, matching crop top, cropped jacket, and high boots—screams confidence, but your body language betrays your discomfort.

Dann lingers near the edge of the room, notebook in hand, trying to blend in with the staff. She glances between you and your parents, who seem almost giddy with anticipation.

“He’ll be here any moment.” The elegant woman says, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on her skirt.

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway cuts through the room. The staff lined up near the entrance, their postures straight and practiced. But you, you don't move.

The front door opens, and Mike strides in, flanked by a crisp breeze. He’s tall and impeccably dressed, his tailored suit hugging his broad shoulders perfectly. His dark hair is slicked back, and his smile is radiant.

“Mike!” Your mother exclaims, rushing to embrace him.

“Mom,” Mike says warmly, wrapping her in a hug “It’s good to be home.”

Your father steps forward, shaking Mike’s hand firmly “Welcome back, son. You’ve been missed.”

Mike turns his charm on the staff next, shaking hands and thanking them for keeping the house in order. He’s polite, almost disarmingly so, his every word and gesture oozing charisma.

Dann watches in awe. She’s heard about Mike because of Seonghwa—YN’s perfect older brother—but seeing him in person is something else entirely. He’s like a prince stepping out of a storybook, all confidence and charm.

“YN,” He says, his tone casual but pointed “You’re quiet.”

Your jaw tightens, but you force a smile “Welcome back.”

There’s no embrace, no handshake. Just those two words, cold and clipped. The air between you hums with unspoken tension, and Dann notices the flicker of amusement in Mike’s eyes.

“Thank you, little sister,” Mike says, his tone condescending despite the warm words “It’s good to see you.” His gaze flicks over your outfit, and his smile tilts “You’ve certainly… embraced your personal style. Very bold, YN.”

“Speaking of outfits,” Your mother interjects, her tone brisk, “Sweetie, I expect you to wear the dress I picked out for you tonight. This isn’t just any dinner, it’s a celebration for Mike’s return, and you need to look the part.”

You scoff, crossing your legs “I think I’m dressed just fine.”

Mike’s gaze lingers on your short skirt and boots, his smirk widening “Oh, you’re definitely making a statement. Not sure it’s the one family would approve of, though.”

You shoot him a glare “Thanks for the unsolicited advice, brother.”

The tension between you two is palpable, and Dann feels caught in the crossfire. To her, Mike seems perfect—charming, kind, and everything you aren't. But the sharpness in your voice and the smugness in Mike’s eyes tell a different story.

“Let’s not bicker,” Your father says quickly, trying to diffuse the moment “Tonight is a family celebration. Son, go get some rest before dinner. Darling, you’ll change, won’t you?”

You don't answer, your lips pressing into a thin line.

“Of course she will,” The tallest says, his tone dripping with condescension “YN always knows how to make an impression.”

As your parents and staff begin leaving the room, Mike lags behind for a moment, catching your eye.

“Still bratty, I see,” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Still idiot, I see.” You snap back under your breath.

Dann catches the exchange, her stomach twisting. There’s more to this ‘perfect brother’ than meets the eye, she realizes, but for now, she pushes the thought aside and trails after the staff, notebook in hand.

Something feels… off.

✮ ⋆

The grand dining room sparkles under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Every corner of Clarke’s mansion is dressed to perfection, as though the house itself is eager to impress Mike upon his long-awaited return.

The scent of roasted lamb and decadent desserts fills the air, mingling with the low hum of polite conversation.

You sit at the far end of the polished mahogany table, fingers tapping against your wine glass. You're dressed immaculately in a tailored navy dress that your mother picked out for the occasion. Everyone around you gushes over Mike’s accomplishments—the glowing pride of the family.

“Three years, and you’ve outdone yourself, Mike,” Your grandfather says, beaming “A master’s degree from Germany, and already planning your next move. We couldn’t be prouder.”

Mike, seated comfortably at the head of the table like a king, offers a modest shrug, though the grin on his face betrays his satisfaction.

“It’s been a long journey, but worth it. I just want to make sure I uphold the family name.” He gives you a look before he smiles.

Your jaw tightens. You know what’s coming next.

“YN.” Your aunt, Silvia, chimes in, turning to you with a saccharine smile “You’re still in school, right? How’s the business program treating you?”

Fucking business program, you hate it.

You force a smile, your heart racing “It’s… going well. Challenging, but rewarding.”

Mike chuckles, drawing all eyes back to him “Challenging? Business? Come on, YN. You’ve been in undergrad for what, three years now? I could teach you the basics in a week.”

The table erupts into polite laughter, but your cheeks burn. You know the jab isn’t just playful—it’s calculated, meant to belittle you.

“Everyone can go at their own pace and that's okay.” You say, voice sharp enough to make your mother glance at you warningly.

Mike leans back in his chair, swirling his wine “It’s not about pace, YN. It’s about discipline. Focus. Something you’ve always struggled with.”

“That's true, Mikey!” One of the younger cousins laughs “I'm just in my first year of college and it's all too easy, it's not ‘challenging’ as YN says.”

“Maybe the career is only made for men, we are the ones who dominate business in companies.” Your father's brother, William, comments by drinking his wine elegantly.

Everyone laughs at his sexist comment.

"Don't say that, honey!" His wife slaps his arm with a giggle "Your daughter studies the same thing."

"But my daughter is smart and focused." He blurts out with mockery as he gives you a look, and you save yourself the urge to roll your eyes.

"YN is also focused, she has good grades." Your mother says sweetly, defending you.

"But 'good' is not enough, you always have to strive for perfection and not settle for mediocre grades." Mike adds with a shrug.

And the whole table laughs like it's the funniest joke they've ever heard. Your mother shakes her head disapprovingly but says nothing.

Your father clears his throat, trying to shift the conversation, but the damage is done. Mike’s words hang in the air.

Your hands curl into fists under the table. You’ve had enough.

“You always know how to make someone feel bad.” You mutter, just loud enough for Mike to hear.

“What did you say?” He asks, his tone faux-innocent, leaning forward slightly.

“Enough, kids.” Your mother says with an awkward smile.

But Mike isn’t done. He leans closer, his voice low and cutting “You’re a disappointment, YN. You always have been. Pretending to study business when you’re off chasing some frivolous dream.”

You hold your breath when you hear that, that fucking idiot "You don't know anything."

“Fashion design, really? What are you going to do with that, sew costumes for kids’ plays?”

Your parents look at Mike in terror. The topic of your study preferences was always private, so that the rest of the family wouldn't gossip and intrude.

Yes, your parents knew and know about your passion for fashion, since you were a child your dream was to be a designer and create your own brand, but due to the family business they forced you to study business management, and you had to accept without being able to reproach.

Mike knew it too, and still decided to talk.

The table falls silent, and your chest tightens when everyone looks at you with surprise and mockery.

Without noticing, your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I—excuse me.” You stammer, pushing your chair back abruptly.

Your mother calls after you, but you are already halfway to the door. Heels click against the marble floor as you grab your car keys and storm out of the house.

You don't know where you’re going until you’re halfway across town, your phone clutched in your trembling hand. The only person who crosses your mind is Hongjoong, you need Hongjoong right now.

You don't text or call him, you don't need to. You know he’ll be home.

When you reach his house, you knock on the door, heart pounding as you wait.

Hongjoong answers, his hair disheveled and his face scrunched in confusion.

“YN?”

“Can I come in?” You ask, your voice breaking.

Hongjoong watches as you step inside, the soft click of your heels on the polished floor breaking the quiet of the hallway.

Your dress gleams faintly under the light, the kind of fabric and craftsmanship that scream exclusivity. The subtle sheen of your makeup and the designer heels complete the look, making you seem almost out of place in the cozy, modest home.

His heart clenches. He doesn’t ask questions, not yet. Instead, he offers a small, reassuring smile.

“Come in, pretty.” From the dining room, the clinking of cutlery and quiet conversation filters through. Hongjoong glances toward it, hesitating “Uh… we’re having dinner. My parents are home.”

You straighten, brushing your hair away as if steeling yourself “Okay”

He nods and leads you to the dining room. His parents, mid-conversation, look up as you enter.

“Oh.. who’s this beautiful lady?”

You smile shyly at her, and Hongjoong puts his hand on your bare shoulder.

“Mom, Dad,” He says, clearing his throat “This is YN.”

His parents exchange a look, surprise flashing in their eyes. Hongjoong’s mother, a petite woman with a kind face, recovers first.

“YN, it’s nice to meet you. Would you like to join us for dinner?”

You smile politely, your usual sharpness softened “If it’s not too much trouble, thank you.”

“No trouble at all.” His father says, though his gaze lingers briefly on your dress, shoes, even your watch—items that likely cost more than their monthly mortgage.

You glide into the chair with practiced elegance, every movement drawing attention. The table is set simply—a far cry from the elaborate spreads you’re used to—but something about the simplicity feels oddly grounding.

Hongjoong pulls out the chair next to yours, sitting close but not too close. His parents exchange another glance before his mother breaks the silence.

“So, YN, how do you and Hongjoong know each other?”

Your posture stiffens slightly, and Hongjoong tenses, too. If only they knew how you met and the things that Hongjoong has done under your orders and all those humiliations, they would surely kick you out.

You both share a fleeting glance, silently agreeing to tread carefully.

“We’re in the same business program.” Hongjoong says, his voice steady.

You nod, your hands resting lightly on the table “Yes, we’ve worked on a few projects together. Joong’s very… dedicated.”

Hongjoong’s parents smile, though his father’s expression is tinged with curiosity at the way you call his son.

“That’s wonderful,” He says “It’s good to see you making connections, Hongjoong. Your school’s not an easy one to get into.”

You smile faintly, but there’s an underlying tension “It’s very competitive.” You add.

The pretty woman serves the meal—roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and a crisp salad. The aroma is inviting, but you hesitate for a moment, the simple fare so unlike the complex, perfectly plated dishes you’re accustomed to.

As you eat, Hongjoong’s father can’t help but notice the way you hold the fork, the delicate way you cut the food.

Very elegant and sophisticated.

“So, YN,” He says, his tone conversational but probing “You must be quite driven to be studying at such a prestigious school.”

You pause, your fork halting mid-air “I suppose so. It’s… a good school.”

Again, Hongjoong’s parents share a glance, clearly trying to reconcile the poised, elegant girl in front of them with their down-to-earth son.

“Did you always want to study business?” The female asks gently.

Your hand tightens on the fork, but your smile remains “It's the common choice in my family.”

You say vaguely, your voice betraying none of the resentment you feel. Hongjoong, noticing the slight tension in your posture, jumps in.

“YN’s really good at presentations.” He tries to shift the conversation “She knows how to keep everyone attentive.”

The praise makes you glance at him, your expression softening “And he’s increrible in everythig.” You add a rare note of warmth in your voice.

As the meal winds down, you find yourself surprisingly at ease. The food, while simple, is filling and comforting. The warmth of the room, the unpretentious conversation—it feels like a stark contrast to the cold, high-stakes environment you’re used to.

“You’re welcome here anytime.” Hongjoong’s mother says as they finish, her smile is genuine.

You look at her, and for the first time in a long while, you feel the ache in your chest ease just a little.

“Thank you… that means a lot.”

As Hongjoonng leads you to the living room, you sink into the sofa, the tension in your shoulders finally dissipating.

“Thank you.”

Hongjoong sits beside you, close but respectful “Anytime, pretty.”

After a quiet moment, Hongjoong decides to speak again.

“YN, you don’t have to tell me everything, but… something’s bothering you. Was it your brother? The dinner?”

Your head tilts back, staring at the ceiling as if trying to collect yourself before responding. Your thoughts race, but you don't know how to express them.

You've always been the type of person who keeps your concerns and problems to yourself, not wanting to be a nuisance to others with your stuff. But Hongjoong gives you enough peace of mind to want to tell him a thousand things.

Finally, you sigh, the weight of everything pressing down on your shoulders.

“It was just… the same thing.” You sigh again “My family acting like Mike is perfect. It’s like nothing I do is ever good enough for them. It’s always ‘Mike this, Mike that,’ and I…” You trail off, your throat tightening “I hate it.”

Hongjoong’s heart twinges with sympathy, and he shifts closer, his hand resting gently on your shoulder.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them, YN. You’re incredible the way you are. You don’t need to be him. You’re your own person.”

You smile faintly but it doesn’t reach your eyes “I don’t even know who I am sometimes,” You admit softly “I pretend to be what they want me to be, but I hate it. I hate pretending.”

He leans in slightly, his hand moving from your shoulder to gently cup your face, lifting it so you meet his gaze. His voice is tender, but firm.

“Pretty, you don’t have to pretend. You’re not alone in this, okay? You don’t have to carry this burden by yourself. I’m here for you. I promised you I'd do anything for you, remember?”

You laugh a little knowing what he means, but you know that he didn't promise to do anything just because it's you. He did it because he wanted to come out of the shadows, to be popular.

Your eyes shimmer with unspoken emotion as you watch him, lips parting slightly as if to speak but then closing again. The vulnerability in your gaze makes his heart ache, and without thinking, he leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

The moment is warm, comforting, and safe. It’s like nothing else in the world matters right now.

Just then, in the kitchen, Hongjoong’s mother steps back into the shadows, her heart aching for you. She had heard everything—the quiet, broken words, the tenderness between the two. And in that moment, she sees beyond the image you project.

Beneath the designer clothes, the perfect façade, you’re just a girl, trying to navigate the weight of your family’s expectations.

Her heart aches with a kind of pity for you who has everything and yet, nothing at all. She quietly wipes a stray tear from her cheek, then retreats further into the kitchen, giving you the space you need.

Your voice is almost lost in the soft quiet of the room as you look at him once more, a gentle smile beginning to form.

“Thank you, Joongie.” You whisper, eyes reflecting the depth of your unspoken gratitude.

Hongjoong smiles back, his heart full “Always, pretty. Always.”

And for the first time in a long while, you feel like maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

✮ ⋆

The quiet of the house wraps around you as you step inside, the weight of the night still lingering in your bones. It’s late—almost twelve PM—and the house is eerily silent. No one is waiting for you in the hallway.

The fancy dinner is long over, and you haven't bothered to text them to let them know where you were, knowing they wouldn’t care.

You take off your heels, the cool hardwood of the floor brushing against your feet, and walk slowly into the living room.

There, sitting on the couch with his back straight and arms crossed, is Mike.

“Look who finally decided to come back,” He says, his tone as sharp as a knife “Having a little fun, were we? How nice of you to finally come home.”

Your chest tightens as you stop in the doorway. You haven't seen him like this in a while—his arrogance and superiority seem to grow with every moment he’s home. His sharp gaze cuts through you like a blade, but you stand tall, trying to control the fluttering in your stomach.

“Don’t look at me like that,” He sneers, his eyes narrowing as he stands “You think you can just walk in late after disappearing for hours? You’re pathetic.”

Your heart sinks, but you keep a neutral expression “I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Wait?” Mike scoffs, pacing in front of you “You think I care about waiting? I care about you making a fool of yourself in front of the family. You’ve always been a brat, and you still haven’t learned. You’re not a child anymore, YN. You need to grow up.”

Every word he spits feels like venom, but you know better than to show weakness. You know what he’s doing—tearing you down, making you feel small.

This isn’t new. This is just who he is.

“I’m just trying to live my life, Mike.”

Mike pauses, his smirk widening as he leans closer “Live your life? You’ve been living in a fantasy, little one. You think you can just pretend everything’s fine? Everyone thinks you’re studying business because you'll be part of Dad's company, but you never really think about doing it. You’ve been a joke this whole time. You’re nothing like me. You’ll never be good enough.”

You take the words in, letting them sink in as you have done for so many years. It’s painful, but you know how to endure it. You know how to ignore the voice inside telling you you’re not worthless, that you’re more than what he says.

But tonight, it feels heavier.

“I don’t know why Mom and Dad think you’re this perfect little angel.” You say with mockery, looking him up and down.

He laughs bitterly “Because I am perfect. I’ve done everything right. I’m successful. I’m smart. And unlike you, I know how to get what I want. They should be proud of me. But you, YN? You’re just a spoiled child who’s going to get everything handed to her. And still, you fail. You’ll never be me.”

Your fists clench at your sides, but you don't respond. Instead, you bite your lip, trying to keep your composure. The words are harsh, but you’ve heard them all before. He’s always been the same—deceptively charming and cruel when it matters most.

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not perfect like you,” You say quietly, Hongjoong's sweet words resonate in your mind “It's just… I don't want to be like you.”

Mike looks down at you with disdain, his expression unreadable for a moment before he sighs.

“Not even in your dreams could you be like me, pathetic thing.”

You can’t help the flare of anger that rises in your chest at his words, but you suppress it quickly.

Without saying another word, you turn and walk toward the stairs.

From the shadows of the hallway, Dann, who had been listening from the hallway leading to the staff rooms, feels a tightness in her chest. She’s overheard everything, and the way Mike speaks to you… it makes her happy.

Finally someone is taming you.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The next few days feel like a strange game of charades to you, your home transformed by the presence of your brother. It’s almost like he’s a perfect guest who’s come to stay indefinitely—charming, polite, and always acting like he’s the model son.

He plays the part well, and even the staff, including Dann, are entranced by his manners and wealth. You watch it all from the sidelines, a bitter knot tightening in your chest every time her brother flashes that smile, every time your parents look at him with eyes full of admiration.

And then there’s Dann. She continues her errands around the house, doing what you ask, but now there's an air of something different. She’s captivated by Mike’s presence, stealing glances at him whenever he’s nearby.

She doesn’t know much about him, but the way he carries himself—with that effortless confidence and charm—makes her heart skip.

One afternoon, Dann is walking through the hallway, balancing a tray of snacks for you. As she turns a corner, she almost runs straight into Mike.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Dann stammers, gripping the tray tightly to steady it.

Mike catches the edge of the tray, steadying it with ease “No harm done,” He says with a kind smile. His eyes flick to the contents “For me?”

Dann blinks, flustered “Uh… no, for—uh—someone else.”

“Pity,” Mike teases lightly “But still, it’s impressive. Not everyone takes the time to look after others like this. What’s your name?”

“Dann,” She manages, her cheeks heating.

“Dann,” He repeats, his tone smooth, as if committing it to memory “A beautiful name for a beautiful soul.”

Her breath catches “I-I should go. This is for—”

He raises a hand, cutting her off gently “No need to rush. Take a moment to breathe. You deserve it.”

His smile deepens, and for a moment, Dann feels like she’s the only person in the room. She mutters a shy thank-you and hurries past him, her heart pounding.

Mike watches her go, his expression unreadable. Then, as he turns back toward the study, he chuckles to himself, amused by how easily people fall for a kind word and a smile.

Later, when Dann brings you the tray, Dann’s unusually quiet, and you notice her flushed cheeks and the faint smile she tries to hide.

“What’s with you?” You ask sharply, taking the tray.

“Nothing,” Dann says quickly, shaking her head.

You narrow your eyes “Let me guess—my brother said something to you?” Dann’s face goes red, betraying her “Unbelievable,” You mutter under your breath, setting the tray down “He’s not what you think, Dann.”

Dann hesitates, confused “He’s… he’s nice.”

You let out a bitter laugh “Sure, he’s nice. Keep believing that.”

Dann doesn’t respond, her mind too wrapped up in replaying Mike’s words. To her, he was kind and genuine, a stark contrast to your sharp edges.

You, watching her, feel your frustration boil over. You know your brother’s game too well, and know exactly what he’s doing. But you also know trying to warn someone like Dann would be pointless.

For now, you let it go, biting your tongue as the tension simmers beneath the surface.

✮ ⋆

The next few days, Mike couldn’t help but notice Dann more often. She moved through the house quietly, always carrying something or running an errand.

At first, he assumed she was just part of the household staff, but something about her demeanor didn’t quite fit. She seemed too young, too out of place among the polished, uniformed employees.

One afternoon, as he lounged in the garden sipping coffee, he spotted Dann hurrying across the lawn with a pile of books. He called out to her.

“Hey, Dann!”

She froze mid-step, the books wobbling precariously in her arms. Turning slowly, she offers a hesitant smile.

“Yes, sir?”

Mike winces at the formality. “No need for that. Just Mike is fine.” He gestures to a nearby chair “Come, sit for a moment. Those books won’t run away.”

Dann hesitates, glancing back toward the house “I… I really should get these to—”

“Sit,” Mike insists gently, flashing the same disarming smile he used with everyone “I’m curious about you.”

She reluctantly obeys, setting the books down on a nearby table before perching nervously on the edge of the chair.

“So, Dann,” He begins, leaning forward slightly “I’ve noticed you’re always running around doing things. Are you part of the staff here?”

Dann’s eyes widen “No! I mean—” She fidgeted with her hands “I’m not a staff. I’m… I’m the maid’s daughter.”

“The maid’s daughter?” He echoes, raising a brow. He studies her closely, sensing there is more to the story “Then why are you always doing errands?”

Dann hesitates, clearly uncomfortable. Finally, she sighs, her shoulders slumping. She doesn't think anything will happen if she tells him, he is very kind and understanding.

“It’s because of miss YN.”

“Miss YN?” He repeats with mock.

“She… she ordered me to work for her,” Dann admits, her voice dropping to a whisper. “At a party I accidentally spilled my drink on her dress...”

Mike tilts his head, his smile fading slightly “She ordered you to work for her? What dress?”

“It's a pretty expensive one… I heard her mention something like Chanel.” She explains quickly “She told me to choose between paying for the cost of the dress with money or with small tasks. I don't have the money to pay for the dress, so I’ve been helping her out with errands.”

Mike leans back in his chair, processing this information. A slow smile spread across his face, though there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes.

“So, let me get this straight. YN, my little sister, is making you work off the cost of a dress?” Dann nods, glancing down at her hands. Mike lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head “How long have you worked for her?”

“Maybe, a month ago.”

“Well, Dann, you’ve given me a lot to think about.” Before she can respond, he stands, brushing invisible lint from his pants “Better get back to your books. Wouldn’t want YN to get upset.”

Dann nods quickly, standing to retrieve the books. As she hurries away, Mike watches her go, his expression unreadable.

“Interesting,” He murmurs to himself, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The grand dining room gleamed with elegance, the long table lined with intricate floral arrangements and flickering candlelight. You sit at one end, your mother to your left, and Mike across from you. Your father presides at the head of the table, quietly savoring his wine.

In the shadows of the kitchen doorway, part of the chef’s staff, is there observing the scene as the family begin their meal.

“Sweetie, When will Hongjoong come? It's been more than a week since I saw him.” She smiles kindly while sipping from her cup “Such a lovely boy.”

You smile at the mention of the guy who has been occupying your thoughts lately.

"Tomorrow we have to do an essay for business management class, so he is coming."

Your mom claps her hands with enthusiasm "Amazing! I would love to say hello."

You laugh a little at her sigh, it seems that she likes it more than you would like to admit.

Mike raises an eyebrow in confusion, who the fuck are they talking about?

“Who’s Hongjoong?”

“YN’s close friend. He’s been here many times.” Your mom responds right away “He’s polite, respectful, and always so helpful. And he’s clever, too. I remember when they were working on that literature project. He explained everything to me when I asked.”

Mike smiles mockingly, doing a project together? You, working with someone... It's silly, to Mike this sounds like you taking advantage of a nerd. But his mother is a ray of light, she has no idea.

“I'm sure it's your personal nerd, doing your homework and that, right?”

And he's all right, but that was before everything you went through together during this time.

“Of course not.”

Mike leans back, grinning “No? So why does he always do work with you? Don't you have more friends who want to do projects with you?”

Your mother gets a little upset hearing that “That’s enough, Mike. Hongjoong is a good influence on YN. You could stand to meet him before passing judgment.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s delightful. Just the kind of guy to fit right in at the nerd club.”

“Son, that’s enough. You haven’t even met the boy. Give him a chance before making assumptions.” This time your father says.

“Whatever. But I’m curious… What is his last name? Is his family part of a company or why are you defending him so much?" He asks with mockery.

You glare at him, your jaw clenches “That doesn't matter Mike, don't meddle in my business.”

“Mike, that's enough. I'm not going to allow you to talk like that about a boy as cute as Hongjoong." For the first time your mother speaks seriously to him.

“Sure…”

“Let's change the subject. Mike, you have to prepare your speech when you take your position at the company. The party will take place next week.” Then he looks at you, "You can invite Hongjoong and your other friends, my dear."

You nod while your mother applauds happily again, but Mike only rolls his eyes.

“Instead of focusing on your ‘friends’, you should catch up with college.”

“Mike.” Your father warns him.

“Also, what about that girl running up and down like her personal servant?” He asks with false curiosity.

Your father clears his throat, his gaze landing on Mike “Dann working for YN was agreed upon by us. She’s working for her to settle her debt. There’s nothing more to discuss.”

“Agreed upon by you, maybe,” Your mother interjects, her voice softer but laced with unease. She doesn’t look up, carefully slicing her steak as if her plate demands all her attention “I still think it’s a bit... unorthodox, forcing a young girl into such an arrangement. Just an apology and letting it go would’ve been more appropriate.”

Your father frowns “And what about the consequences of such acts, my love? This way, everyone benefits. Dann gets experience, YN gets help, and the debt is paid.”

Mike’s smirk widens as he watches the exchange, clearly enjoying the tension.

“Experience, huh? Interesting choice of words for running errands and taking verbal beatings.”

“Mike, don’t say that!” Your mother snaps, finally looking up “The staff could misunderstand it.” She murmurs with panic.

“What?” He holds up his hands, feigning innocence “I’m just saying, let’s not sugarcoat it. We all know YN isn’t exactly... sweet.”

You grip your fork tightly, the metal digging into your palm “Just shut your mouth and eat, Mike. Nobody asked for your opinion.”

“YN,” Your father warns, his tone sharp.

Mike chuckles, ignoring him “See, little Dann must be so scared of her.”

Your mother sighs heavily, setting down her knife and fork “Enough of this. We’re not discussing Dann or her situation any further. It’s settled.”

But the older son isn’t done. He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his gaze locking with yours.

“You should be careful, YN. People like Dann have limits. Push her too far, and she might push back. Harder than you expect.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, the table falls silent. Your father glares at Mike, but he doesn’t say anything. Your mother busies herself with her glass of wine, avoiding your gaze.

You stand abruptly, your chair scraping against the floor “If we’re done with this delightful family bonding session, I’ll be going now.”

As you leave the dining room, your mother’s voice follows you, tired and resigned “Sweetie, wait—”

But you don’t stop. Mike’s words echo in your mind, and for the first time, you wonder if there’s truth in them.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

“Hongjoong!”

Your mother’s enthusiastic voice fills the grand hallway as the front door swings open to reveal Homgjoong, standing there with his usual boyish grin.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clarke!” He says, matching her energy. His warm tone makes her giggle in delight.

“She’s upstairs,” Your mother replies, stepping aside to let him in “She mentioned something about working on an essay. You two have been quite busy with school, haven’t you?”

He nods, the picture of politeness “Yes, ma’am. Lots of group projects lately.”

From the top of the grand staircase, Mike’s deep voice cuts through the air like a blade.

“Is this him?” His gaze analyze Hongjoong up and down. His outfit was very different from what Mike expected from a nerd.

Of course the glasses scream ‘nerd’ in all the letters, but the denim jacket over a gray turtleneck shirt with an abstract print, black cargo pants, a gray beanie on his head, and a black crossbody bag complete the look…

Mike didn't know that nerds had evolved during these three years, that now they can mix with others and you wouldn't know they’re a freak..

Hongjoong’s gaze snaps upward, and your brother appears, descending the staircase with a calm but predatory aura. His tailored suit and sharp features radiate authority, the kind that seems designed to make people feel small.

“Yes, this is Hongjoong,” Your mother chimes in, her cheerful tone unwavering.

Hongjoong extends a hand, smiling “Nice to meet you.”

Mike eyes the hand for a moment before taking it. His grip is firm—calculated, even.

“So, you’re the charity case,” He says smoothly, his words laced with a thinly veiled insult.

Hongjoong’s smile falters slightly, but he quickly recovers “I guess you could say I’m lucky to have YN as a friend.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smirk “Friend?”

The tension is palpable, but before it can escalate, your mother interjects “Mike, be nice. Hongjoong is here to help your sister with schoolwork. Don’t scare him off.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Mike replies, though the gleam in his eyes suggests otherwise.

Just then, you appear at the top of the staircase, dressed casually but impeccably as always.

“Joong,” You call, your voice warm, though your eyes flick to Mike in a silent warning.

Hongjoong visibly relaxes at the sight of you “Hey, YN.”

You make your way down, shooting a quick glare at your brother before slipping your arm through Hongjoong’s.

“We’ll be in the study room.” You say pointedly, guiding him away.

Mike watches the two of you go, a bemused expression on his face.

✮ ⋆

The study is bathed in the soft afternoon light streaming through the large windows. Papers and books are spread across the table, though most of it remains untouched.

Hongjoong sits comfortably in the large red sofa, pen twirling absentmindedly between his fingers as he watches you pace the room, clearly distracted.

“Are we actually going to work on this essay,” He teases lightly, “Or are you going to wear a hole in the floor?”

You pause mid-step, shooting him a mock glare “Excuse me for needing to think while I walk.”

Hongjoong chuckles, setting his pen down “Thinking about the essay, or something else?”

You sigh and drop into the seat opposite him “Both, maybe.”

For a moment, there’s silence as you both glance at the notes in front of you. Hongjoong flips through the pages absentmindedly before he leans back and studies you.

“You know,” He starts “This is kind of funny.”

“Uh?”

He smirks “The fact that we’re doing an essay on entrepreneurship, and I remember you telling my parents you’re studying business just because it’s a common choice in your family.”

You blink, caught off guard “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” He says, his tone softening “It was hard to miss how uncomfortable you looked when they asked about it.”

“I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You lie, crossing your arms.

Hongjoong tilts his head, giving you a knowing look “Pretty…”

You sigh, dropping the act “Fine. I was uncomfortable. Happy?”

He leans forward, resting his elbows on the table “Not really. I mean, it’s not every day you see Miss pretty YN Clarke—queen bee of the school—looking out of her element. What was that about, anyway?”

You hesitate, your gaze dropping to the notebook in front of you. After a long pause, you speak, your voice quieter than usual.

“I didn’t choose to study business. My parents chose for me.”

He blinks, taken aback “Seriously? But I thought you—”

“Thought I was passionate about business?” You interrupt with a bitter laugh “No. I wanted to study fashion design.”

“Fashion design?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows shot up, his curiosity piqued “You? The future CEO of Clarke Enterprises wanted to design clothes?”

And he can see your potential. You have impeccable taste in fashion, not just in the way you always dress, but also in how you can identify others' styles just by looking at them. And he’s a witness to it—whenever he went shopping with you, you always picked things that matched the style he chose after his research on the subject. Your sense of fashion was enviable.

“Laugh it up,” You mutter, though there’s no heat in your tone.

“I’m not laughing,” Hongjoong assures you. “I’m just surprised. You’ve never mentioned this before.”

“Why would I?” You snap, but your irritation isn’t directed at him “It’s not like it matters. My parents made it clear that ‘passion projects’ don’t pay the bills. Clarke family members study business. That’s just how it is.”

Hongjoong frowns, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by concern. “That doesn’t sound fair.”

You shrug, forcing a nonchalant tone. “Life isn’t fair, Joong. Besides, it’s not like I had a choice. My father practically enrolled me himself. My mother didn’t say much, but she didn’t exactly fight for me, either.”

He watches you carefully, his brows furrowed “Do you... regret it?”

“Every day,” You admit quietly “But regret doesn’t change anything. My life’s been mapped out for me since the day I was born. I just… deal with it.”

The silence that follows feels heavy, and for a moment, neither of you knows what to say. Finally, Hongjoong breaks it.

“YN… you don’t have to be what they want you to be.”

You scoff, though his sincerity tugs at something deep inside you “You don’t get it, my family isn’t like yours. I can’t just decide to go against them and do what I want. It’s not that simple.”

Hongjoong leans forward, his voice steady and kind “Maybe it’s not simple. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible.”

You look at him, surprised by the determination in his eyes “Why do you care so much, anyway?”

“Because I hate seeing you like this,” He admits “You’re always so confident, so in control. But when you talk about this, it’s like… you’re not yourself.”

You swallow hard, his words hitting closer to home than you’d like to admit.

“I’m just saying,” He continues, his tone gentler now “if you ever want to talk about it, or, you know, vent or anything, I’m here.”

A small, genuine smile tugs at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks, Joongie.”

“Anytime,” He says with a grin. Then, with a playful tone, he adds “Now, can we actually write this essay? Because I’m not about to fail this class just because my partner has a secret dream of designing couture.”

You roll your eyes, but for the first time that day, you feel a little lighter “Fine. Let’s get to work.”

As the two of you finally turn your attention to the assignment, you can’t help but glance at Hongjoong. For all his flaws, he has a way of making you feel like, just maybe, you don’t have to be alone in this.

And that makes you feel happy and secure.

A couple of minutes later—ten minutes to be exact— starting the draft of your essays, you and Hongjoong are supposedly working, but your proximity makes it clear that focus is not the priority. Papers and pens are scattered across the desk, completely forgotten.

You start talking about other stuff until you settle yourself on his lap, and his hands resting on your thighs as he gazes up at you, clearly captivated.

“You really shouldn’t let him get to you.” Hongjoong says softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Once again the topic of your annoying brother.

You smirk, trailing a finger along his jawline “Mike gets to everyone. It’s his specialty.”

Hongjoong’s hand tightens slightly on your leg “Well, not to me.”

You lean closer, your faces mere inches apart “Good.” You whisper before kissing him.

The moment is charged, but neither of you notices the shadow just outside the door.

Dann stands there, hidden in the hallway, her heart sinking as she watches the scene unfold. Your laughter, Hongjoong’s rapt attention—every detail feels like a dagger to her chest.

Her grip on the doorframe tightens as she fights back tears, her mind racing with anger and jealousy.

As you pull back slightly, your fingers lingering on Hongjoong’s jawline, he gazes up at you with a rare softness. The silence stretches between you, not awkward but charged with unspoken words.

“Pretty,” He begins, his voice a little hoarse as if gathering courage.

You tilt your head, teasingly brushing a strand of his hair back “What is it, nerd?”

Hongjoong chuckles softly, but the sound is nervous. He looks away for a moment, his thumb absently tracing small circles on your thigh.

“I was thinking... Maybe we could go out this weekend. Like, just us. A real date.”

Your breath hitches, though you manage to keep your expression neutral. A date. The word sets off a flutter in your chest that you quickly smother. You can’t let yourself feel this way—not for him.

He’s sweet, in a way that disarms you. And yes, there’s something undeniably magnetic about the way he looks at you, like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

But there’s also a voice in the back of your mind, sharp and cynical, whispering warnings.

What if he’s just like everyone else? What if he’s only here because being with you makes him feel important?

You’ve seen it before—the fake smiles, the shallow affections of people who only want something from you. It’s always been easier to keep your guard up, to let the world think you’re untouchable.

Still, as you look at him now, with his nervous grin and earnest eyes, a part of you wonders if Hongjoong is different.

“A date, huh?” You echo, a playful smirk tugging at your lips “Are you asking me out, Joongie?”

His grip on your leg tightens ever so slightly as he nods “Yeah, I guess I am.”

You tilt your head, studying him, trying to find some crack in his sincerity. But there’s none. He’s genuine—almost painfully so.

“Alright, you’ve got yourself a date.” Your tone is flippant, casual, as if it doesn’t matter. But the faint blush creeping up your cheeks betrays you.

Outside the door, Dann halts mid-step. She had intended to leave, to distance herself from the painful scene, but Hongjoong’s words froze her in place.

A date.

Her breathing stops, and her mind reels, repeating every look, every silly smile he used to give you every time you passed by his friends' table, even before he sat down with your ridiculous social group, and she can't deny how much Hongjoong likes you, even now.

Dann had told herself that he didn’t really mean it, that he was just infatuated, that you didn’t deserve him. But hearing him now, so sincere, so devoted—it feels like a knife twisting deeper into her chest.

She takes a shaky step back, her vision blurring with tears. Her mind is a storm of anger, heartbreak, and self-loathing.

Why her? Why not me?

Dann quietly slips away, her steps quick and silent. But her expression hardens with every step she takes. If there was any doubt before, it’s gone now—she won’t let you keep humiliating her.

Dann rushes down the hallway, her chest tight and her mind swirling with emotion. She doesn’t even notice Mike leaning against the wall near the corner, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawls, his smooth voice stopping her in her tracks “What’s got you running off in tears, Cinderella?”

Dann stiffens, quickly wiping at her eyes and turning to face him “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Mike raises an eyebrow, his sharp gaze flicking to the study door she just fled from. His curiosity piqued, he steps past her without another word.

Dann doesn’t try to stop him, her head hanging as shame and frustration bubble within her.

Quietly, Mike approaches the slightly ajar study door. His keen eyes take in the scene inside:

YN, sitting on the nerd's lap, whose hands rest possessively on her thighs as they kiss.

Your closeness, the intimate way your fingers trail along Hongjoong’s hair, makes Mike’s smirk widen.

He glances back at Dann, who’s standing frozen in the hallway, her shoulders tense. His mind pieces the puzzle together.

Dann’s crushed expression, your little display with the nerd in his designer clothes, that obviously, Mike knows that you bought for him, and the underlying tension he’s noticed between the two girls.

A cruel but amused thought settles in his mind. Of course, you're using that poor guy to hurt Dann. Classic YN. It’s vicious, but… beautifully done.

Pushing the door slightly closed so you and Hongjoong remain unaware, Mike strides back to Dann. He tilts his head, studying her, his tone feigning concern.

“Looks like my sister is having quite the fun time in there, doesn’t it?” He says casually.

Dann’s head snaps up, her wide eyes filled with panic. “You—you saw?”

Mike shrugs, his smirk softening into something almost comforting.

“It’s hard to miss, really. She does know how to put on a show.” He pauses, letting his words sink in before stepping closer “You like him, don’t you?”

Dann’s face burns, and she quickly shakes her head “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Dann. Don’t insult me by lying,” He says smoothly, his voice low and persuasive. “You like that nerd, it’s written all over your face. You’re smitten, and YN? Well, she knows it. And judging by what I just saw, she’s enjoying rubbing it in.”

Dann’s lips tremble, but she says nothing. The truth in his words stings too much to deny.

Mike’s expression shifts, his voice softening. “It’s cruel, isn’t it? After everything you’ve done for her, she still treats you like this. Like a pawn in her little games.”

Dann bites her lip, her anger and hurt bubbling to the surface “Why are you telling me this? What do you want?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “What I want is irrelevant. What you want, though… That’s what matters, doesn’t it?” He steps even closer, his tone conspiratorial “You want to stop her, don’t you? Make her see what it’s like to be humiliated, to lose everything she holds dear.”

Dann looks at him, her eyes narrowing “Why would you care? She’s your sister.”

Mike smirks again, his gaze hard. “Oh, I care, Dann. But not in the way you think. YN’s gotten away with far too much for far too long. It’s time she learns that actions have consequences. And I think you and I? We can make that happen.”

Dann hesitates, her emotions warring within her. Mike leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Think about it, Dann. Do you really want to keep being her servant, watching her parade around with him, knowing she’s using you? Or do you want to take back some control?” He pulls back, straightening his tie as if the conversation is no more than business.

“The choice is yours. But if you’re tired of being her shadow… You know where to find me.”

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving Dann standing there, her heart pounding and her thoughts racing.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Dann sits at the back of the school library, nervously twisting the strap of her bag. The place is nearly deserted, the only sounds are the faint hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rustle of a page turning.

She checks her phone for the third time, anxiously glancing at the clock.

Finally, Seonghwa strides in, his usual air of confidence intact. Spotting her, he saunters over, dropping into the chair across from her.

“You’re lucky I don’t hate this place,” He mutters, propping his chin on his hand “Now, what’s so urgent?”

Dann hesitates, her gaze darting around to ensure no one’s within earshot “It’s about Mike.”

Seonghwa’s brow furrows slightly, but he maintains his calm demeanor.

“What about him?”

Dann leans closer, lowering her voice. “He… approached me yesterday. After YN and Hongjoong—” Her voice falters, and she shakes her head, willing herself to stay focused “He saw me upset and, um, he offered me a deal.”

Hwa’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, there’s an unreadable flicker in his expression.

“A deal?”

Dann nods quickly “He said he knows YN’s been using Hongjoong to hurt me, and he wants to help me… to bring her down.”

A smirk slowly spreads across Hwa’s face, but there’s a calculating glint in his eyes.

“Well, isn’t that interesting?”

“I don’t know what to do,” Dann admits, her voice shaking slightly. “I mean, I hate YN for everything she’s done, and he’s kind. I trust him, but I don’t know…”

“Well, you shouldn’t trust him,” Seonghwa says bluntly “Mike’s not the kind of guy who does anything out of the goodness of his heart. He’ll want something in return, probably something you’re not ready to give.”

Dann bites her lip, her uncertainty clear. His words sound similar to what you told her days ago.

'He's not what you think, Dann.'

“Then what do I do? If I say no, he’ll probably find another way to mess with her. But if I say yes…”

Hwa leans back in his chair, his smirk growing. “You'll say yes.”

“What?” Dann looks at him in shock.

“Think about it,” Hwa says smoothly. “This is an opportunity. Mike’s already got a grudge against YN, and he’s offering you a chance to take her down. Why waste that?”

“But…” Dann hesitates. “He’ll know I’m working with him. He might use me, too.”

Hwa leans forward, his voice low and firm. “That’s where I come in. You agree to his deal, play along with whatever he asks, but you don’t let him know about me. I’ll guide you from the sidelines, help you navigate whatever mess he pulls you into.”

Dann looks at him uncertainty “Why do you want to stay hidden? You and Mike… You know each other, don’t you?”

Hwa’s smirk fades slightly, replaced by a more serious expression.

“Our families are close. Too close. If he knows I’m involved, it’ll complicate things. And trust me, you don’t want him digging into your allies.”

Dann frowns, still unsure “So, I’m supposed to be his pawn, but secretly working for you?”

Seonghwa nods “Exactly. Let him think he’s in control, but we’ll be the ones pulling the strings.” He leans back again, his smirk returning. “And when the time comes, we’ll let the golden boy deal with his sister, then make sure he doesn’t come out unscathed, either.”

Dann hesitates for a moment longer before finally nodding.

“Okay… I’ll do it.”

“Good girl,” Hwa says with a grin “Just remember, no matter what Mike says or does, you keep me out of it. Understood?”

“Understood,” Dann says quietly, her resolve hardening.

As Seonghwa gets up to leave, he gives her a final glance.

“Don’t let him intimidate you, Dann. You’re stronger than you think. And with me in your corner, YN won’t stand a chance.”

Dann watches him walk away, her heart pounding. She feels a flicker of hope, but it’s laced with fear.

She’s stepping into dangerous territory, and she knows there’s no turning back now.

✮ ⋆

The evening air feels heavier as Dann makes her way to the agreed meeting spot. Seonghwa’s proposition lingers in her mind, but now, standing face-to-face with Mike, your seemingly perfect older brother, she feels a renewed sense of purpose.

“You’re late.” He remarks, his tone sharp and businesslike.

His piercing gaze studies her, assessing her worth as an ally. Dann crosses her arms defensively.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Mike smirks faintly, leaning back against the wall “Fair enough. So, you’ve decided to take me up on my offer. Good. Let’s not waste time—tell me everything you know about YN and this… Hongjoong guy.”

Dann hesitates, a flicker of doubt crossing her face. Is she really doing this? Betraying her values?

But then she recalls the laughter, the dismissive looks, and the countless times you made her feel small.

Her jaw tightens “Hongjoong used to be normal,” She begins, her voice steady but bitter “He had his own friends. He was part of that freak crowd. Good grades, nothing special. Just a regular guy trying to get by.”

Mike arches an eyebrow, intrigued “And now?”

“Now?” Dann scoffs, bitterness seeping into her tone “Now, he’s your sister’s lapdog. But before that, he was part of the ‘slaves’—as your sister and her friends called them. The kids who did their homework, their projects, whatever they didn’t feel like doing themselves.”

A flicker of surprise crosses Mike’s face, though he quickly masks it.

“Go on.”

“YN and her crew, they humiliated him. Constantly. He was a joke to them. They used him, mocked him, and then, one day, out of nowhere, YN decides he’s worthy of her attention. He just… sat with her at lunch one day, like it was the most normal thing in the world. After that, he started hanging out with them, ditching his old friends. Forgot about them completely.”

Mike’s expression hardens as he listens. He processes the information quickly, the gears in his mind already turning.

“So, you’re saying she picked him up like a… project?”

Dann nods “That’s exactly what it looks like. But the weird part is… he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, he’s completely loyal to her. It’s like she has him wrapped around her finger.”

The older man chuckles darkly, his smile cold “That sounds like my little sister, all right. Always taking what she wants without a second thought.”

Dann swallows hard, her hands clenching into fists “She doesn’t deserve him. And he doesn’t deserve to just… get away with forgetting where he came from.”

Mike leans forward, his voice low and commanding “You’re absolutely right. That’s why we’re going to remind him—and her—that actions have consequences. But I need more. Details, patterns, vulnerabilities. I want to know everything she’s hiding.”

Dann hesitates, her mind flicking briefly to Seonghwa’s warning not to involve him. She decides to steer clear of mentioning her.

“The others, Mindy, Mingi, San, and Wooyoung, they’re all in her circle, part of the same game. They cover for her, laugh at her jokes, make sure no one crosses her. They’re as bad as she is, if not worse.”

Mike nods slowly. He knows all of your friends, but where is little Park Seonghwa? You used to be inseparable.

His expression is one of calculated determination “Good. That’s a start. Keep watching, keep listening. I want updates on every little thing. The more I know, the easier it’ll be to tear her down.”

Dann feels a chill run through her as she realizes just how serious Mike is. But she doesn’t back down. Dann bites her lip, glancing at him.

“There’s something else—something about Hongjoong.” His eyebrows lift slightly, urging her to continue “He… he always feels like he has to stay on YN’s good side,” She says slowly, her voice tinged with both resentment and a hint of sadness “Even when she’s wrong, even when she’s downright cruel.”

Mike narrows his eyes “What do you mean?”

Dann looks away, the memory of that day in the cafeteria flooding back “There was this one time. It wasn’t long after he started sitting with her, maybe a couple of weeks. YN was in one of her moods, and she was picking on me—making me carry her bag, fetch her coffee, stupid stuff like that.” Her voice trembles slightly, but she forces herself to keep going. “Hongjoong... He didn’t say a word.”

“Typical YN. But Hongjoong? That doesn’t sound like the hero type you’re making him out to be.”

“That’s the thing,” Dann says bitterly. “He’s not. Not really. He just… stood there, watching, like he didn’t want to risk making her angry.” She pauses, swallowing the lump in her throat. “But one day in the cafeteria, something happened. YN took it too far.”

“What did she do?” He asks, his tone colder now.

“I dropped her drink over her purse, Mindy made me get on my knees and beg YN's forgiveness...” Dann says quietly, her cheeks flushing with humiliation even at the memory. “And when I refused, YN stepped on my hand mercilessly. Everyone was laughing, pointing, but Hongjoong defended me… he told her to stop, and after he went after me.”

Mike tilts his head, intrigued “He stood up to her?”

“For a moment,” Dann says with a dry laugh “But you know what happened after that? She ignored him. For days. Didn’t talk to him, didn’t look at him. And Hongjoong? He couldn’t handle it. After a few days…. He apologized to her. For defending me that day in the cafeteria.” Dann says softly, bitterness slipping into her tone.

He arches an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued “And how do you know that?”

Her cheeks flush, and she looks away, remembering the explicit scene she saw that night, debating whether to answer.

“Because… I saw them.” She mutters.

“Saw them?” He presses, leaning forward slightly.

“At Wooyoung’s party,” Dann explains, her voice shaking, “They went upstairs together. I—I didn’t see everything, but when they came back, YN looked… satisfied. And Hongjoong looked…”

Her voice trails off, the implications hanging in the air. Mike’s lips twitch into a smirk, the pieces clicking together in his mind.

“Ah,” He drawls, a hint of amusement in his tone “So that’s how he managed to crawl his way into her good graces again.”

Dann bites her lip but says nothing, her face burning with a mix of shame and jealousy.

Mike chuckles, crossing his arms “Poor little Hongjoong. He’s so desperate to stay on YN’s good side, he’ll do whatever it takes, won’t he?” His smirk grows wider, more cruel “I’m almost impressed. Almost.” Dann looks down at her hands, refusing to meet his gaze “Sounds like he’s more afraid of being cast out than he is of losing his integrity. That’s good to know.”

Dann looks at him, frowning slightly “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that we can use that. If Hongjoong’s loyalty to YN is built on fear of losing her approval, it’s only a matter of time before he breaks.” He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper “People like that are easy to manipulate. You just have to know where to push.”

Dann hesitates, her gaze darting to the floor before meeting Mike’s calculating eyes.

“There’s one more thing,” She says cautiously.

“Go on.”

“Hongjoong… he asked YN out on a date,” Dann reveals, bitterness lacing her tone “I don’t know when or where, but he did.”

Mike’s expression darkens, a smirk curling at his lips.

“Now he’s inviting her on dates, playing the doting ‘boyfriend’ while she pulls the strings. It’s almost… poetic.” He leans forward again, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper “You know this fairytale won’t last, right? Once the thrill of the game wears off, they’ll both be exactly where they belong—crumbling.”

Unknown to Dann or Mike, you have just rounded the corner, your footsteps halting as you overhears your brother’s mocking voice. You step back into the shadows, your breath catching in your throat.

How does he know about the date?

Your stomach churns. You are drawn to Hongjoong—his warmth, his loyalty, the way he looks at you like you’re the center of the universe—but you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

Pride keeps your walls up, but fear builds them higher.

Fear that Hongjoong’s interest is just another way to climb to the top, that he’s using you like everyone else in your life seems to.

You clench your fists, forcing yourself to keep listening as Mike chuckles darkly.

“Well,” He continues, leaning back against the wall “Let them have their little fairytale moment. Let them hold hands, kiss under the stars, and pretend it’s all perfect.” He pauses, his smirk turning cruel “Because once it ends—and it will end—it’s going to crash down so hard they won’t know what hit them.”

You feel your chest tighten, your brother’s words hitting a nerve you didn’t even realize was raw. You press your back against the wall, your breathing shallow as you fight the urge to burst in and confront them.

Instead, you slip away quietly, mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Hongjoong asked you out…

But what if Mike’s right? What if it’s all just a game to him?

The idea sends a pang of vulnerability through your chest, one of you quickly smothering with anger.

No one uses you, you think fiercely, even as your heart betrays you with the smallest flicker of hope.

As you leave, Dann and Mike have done their chant. As Dann turns to leave, Mike’s voice stops her.

“Oh, and Dann,” He says, his tone almost casual but laced with menace “If you try to cross me or withhold anything… you’ll regret it.”

Dann doesn’t respond. She just walks away, her heart pounding in her chest.

She’s in too deep now, and there’s no turning back.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

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[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

★ FLOWERS FROM ANOTHER — KIM HJ.

3.5k wc ,, single mom!reader x colleague!hj ,, office romance lowk ,, aged up!hj (29 — both of u are 29) ,, ur sons father went to get milk ,, younger brother!san ,, hj is whipped ,, turned a sadder route than i expected 😭😭 ,, tried writing angst for the hell of it (lowk ate but idek atp) ,, might be messy !!

synopsis your son has a tradition to buy flowers (somehow) for you when it’s your birthday. so it’s not exactly surprising when you do receive flowers. and now, somehow you’ve been receiving flowers… but it’s far from being your birthday?

song rec: heavy by the marías

“Mommy! Happy birthday!” Hyunwoo’s sweet voice echoed in your memory, his gap-toothed grin vivid in your mind as you ran your fingers over the soft petals. the sight of the dainty arrangement of daisies and carnations still brought a smile to your lips. the flowers were simple, poorly tied with a pale green ribbon that looked like it had been meticulously hand-picked.

your son, your little partner in crime, had made it his tradition to give you flowers for your birthday every year. whether they came from the kind neighbor’s garden, a patch of wildflowers by the park, or one of his impromptu “missions” to the corner florist, the flowers always ended up on your kitchen counter, brightening your otherwise quiet days.

the first bouquet that sat on your porch was easy to dismiss. an act of kindness or, perhaps, a mistake. the second one, too.

but by the third, something in you stirred—something far less simple to ignore.

it wasn’t your birthday.

obviously, not wanting to assume, but you didn’t talk about Hyunwoo’s father much. not to your friends, not to San, and certainly not to Hyunwoo. it wasn’t that you wanted to bury the past, but what was there to say really? how could you explain to your son that his father had walked out when he was barely old enough to hold his head up on his own?

and it all started with excuses.

“I just need time to figure things out,” he’d said, standing in the doorway with his bag slung over his shoulder, refusing to meet your eyes.

“Things are tight right now. We’ll be better off if I—”

and then he’d stopped. he never finished that sentence. and in all honesty, he never would even if he had the chance to.

the door had clicked shut, and the sound echoed in your chest for weeks after.

you didn’t cry that night. not when Hyunwoo woke up at 4am, wailing for a bottle, or when you stood by the sink the next morning, staring at the dirty dishes piled high.

but two months later, when Hyunwoo started crawling for the first time, your laughter of joy turned into quiet sobs as you held him in your arms. you wanted someone there to share the moment with. and you hated yourself for wishing he could’ve been the one.

the first time Hyunwoo asked about his father, he was four.

you had just tucked him into bed, his small hands clutching the edges of his blanket as he blinked up at you. the room was dim, the only light coming from the moon spilling through the curtains.

“Mommy?” he said, his voice soft and hesitant.

“Yes, Hyunnie?”

“Why don’t I have a dad?”

the question hit you like a punch to the chest, knocking the air from your lungs. for a moment, you couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe.

“You have Uncle Sannie,” you said finally, forcing your voice to stay steady. “And you have me. Isn’t that enough, baby?”

Hyunwoo frowned, his little brows furrowing as he thought about it. “But everyone else has a dad.”

“Not everyone,” you whispered gently, brushing a hand through his soft hair. “Some families are different. And that’s okay.”

he didn’t seem entirely satisfied with your answer, but he nodded anyway, his eyes slowly drooping shut.

that night, as you sat alone in the living room, you couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in your head. the guilt clawed at your chest, sharp and unrelenting.

you hated him for leaving you. but more than that, you hated him for leaving Hyunwoo. for creating a hole in your son’s life that you could never fully fill, no matter how hard you tried.

Hyunwoo had always been perceptive, even as a toddler. he noticed things— like how you would glance at your phone every time it buzzed, hoping for a text or call that never came. or how your smile would falter when you saw other kids at the park playing with their fathers.

as he got older, his questions became less frequent, but the weight of his father’s absence still lingered in small, subtle ways.

there was one time he drew a picture of your family in kindergarten, proudly showing it off when you came to pick him up.

“Look, Mommy!” he said, holding up the crayon drawing.

it was simple but sweet—just the two of you holding hands under a bright yellow sun.

“Where’s your dad?” another child had asked, peering over Hyunwoo’s shoulder.

Hyunwoo had hesitated, his smile faltering. “I don’t have one,” he said quietly.

the memory still haunted you.

the flowers felt dangerous.

on the surface, they were beautiful and harmless. but deep down, they stirred something in you that you had long since learned to suppress.

when the fifth bouquet arrived—a mix of calla lilies and stargazer lilies so fragrant they made your chest ache—you couldn’t help but feel like they were mocking you. the kindness felt too much. too fragile. too perfect for someone like you, with your patchwork life and your messy past.

you took them home that evening, setting them on the kitchen counter as Hyunwoo colored at the table. he glanced up, his bright eyes narrowing as he noticed the bouquet.

“More flowers?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a sigh, leaning against the counter.

he grinned mischievously. “Are they from a prince?”

you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “No, Hyunnie. No princes.”

“Then who?”

you opened your mouth, unsure how to answer. before you could figure it out, Hyunwoo’s face lit up.

“Maybe it’s that man from your work!”

“Hyunwoo,” you scolded gently, though the heat rising in your cheeks betrayed you. “What man?”

“The one who talks funny!” Hyunwoo said, giggling.

you frowned. “He doesn’t talk funny.”

“Yes, he does! He says words like…” Hyunwoo paused, scrunching up his nose as he tried to remember. “Aesthetic!”

San, who had just walked into the kitchen with a glass of water, snorted. “Well, he’s not wrong.”

you shot your brother a glare, but he just smirked, clearly enjoying the situation.

the next morning, you found yourself face-to-face with Hongjoong.

“I need to ask you something,” you said, catching him off guard in the break room.

“Good morning to you too,” he said, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.

“Don’t deflect.”

his lips twitched, a small smile forming as he set the cup down. “Alright. Ask away.”

you hesitated, your fingers gripping the strap of your bag tightly. “The flowers. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Hongjoong froze for a moment, his expression unreadable. then, with a sigh, he nodded.

“I thought you’d figure it out eventually,” he admitted, his voice soft.

“Why?”

his gaze dropped, his usual confidence faltering. “Because you deserve them.”

the words struck you harder than you expected. you deserved them? you, the woman who’d been left behind with an infant and barely scraped by for years?

“Hongjoong…” your voice cracked, and you hated how raw it sounded. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “You work harder than anyone I know. You take care of Hyunwoo, you put up with San, and you somehow manage to show up here every day with a smile. If anyone deserves flowers, it’s you.”

you stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. his words felt too kind, too much.

“I’m not… I’m not someone who’s easy to take care of,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I don’t have time for… for this.”

“I’m not asking for your time,” he said gently. “I’m just asking for a chance.”

that night, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling as Hyunwoo snored softly beside you. Hongjoong’s words replayed in your mind, each one chipping away at the walls you’d built around yourself.

you thought of the flowers, of the care and thought he’d put into each arrangement. You thought of the way he looked at you—not with pity, but with something softer, warmer.

but you also thought of the pain. of the door clicking shut. of the nights you spent alone, wondering what you’d done wrong.

you couldn’t go through that again. and you couldn’t let Hyunwoo go through it, either.

it wasn’t that you didn’t trust Hongjoong. it was that you didn’t trust yourself to handle another heartbreak.

Hyunwoo’s father had been your first love. you both met in college, a whirlwind romance that left you breathless and naive. when you found out you were pregnant, you’d been terrified but hopeful. you thought he would stay, that the love you shared would be enough to weather any storm.

but love, as you’d learned the hard way, wasn’t always enough.

his leaving had shattered something inside you, something you weren’t sure would ever fully heal. and while you had pieced yourself back together for Hyunwoo’s sake, the cracks were still there—jagged edges you tried to keep hidden from the world.

the night he left was etched into your memory, a scar you had long since learned to live with. Hyunwoo had been barely six months old, wailing in your arms as you stood by the front door, trying to reason with a man who had already made up his mind.

“I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said, his voice clipped and impatient.

“Do what?” you’d demanded, your voice shaking as tears burned your eyes. “Be a father? Be a husband? What exactly is so unbearable about this?”

he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I didn’t sign up for this. I didn’t sign up to be trapped like this.”

you laughed bitterly and scoffed at his audacity, the sound harsh and foreign in your ears. “Trapped? Is that what we are to you? A cage?”

“I don’t expect you to understand,” he muttered, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

you followed him to the door, your free hand clutching at his arm. “Please, don’t do this,” you’d begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “Hyunwoo needs you.”

he paused, his gaze flickering to the baby in your arms before hardening. “He’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.”

and then he was gone.

the memory left a bitter taste in your mouth, one that even the soothing warmth of your tea couldn’t wash away.

you had spent years convincing yourself that you didn’t need anyone. that you were strong enough to raise Hyunwoo on your own, to build a life for the two of you without relying on anyone else. and for the most part, you had succeeded.

you met Hongjoong three years ago, shortly after transferring departments at work. you were the “new girl,” juggling an already demanding job while trying to adapt to the endless sea of faces and unwritten office rules. and then there was him—always on the periphery, quiet but confident, someone you noticed before he ever noticed you.

he wasn’t flashy or loud like some of your other coworkers. no, Hongjoong was the kind of person who listened intently in meetings, who wrote everything down in a leather-bound notebook, and who somehow always managed to meet your eyes across the room when something absurd happened.

at first, your relationship was purely professional. he was your teammate, someone you could rely on during stressful deadlines and late-night reports. but slowly, something unspoken began to form between you—a mutual understanding, a bond that felt deeper than the shared workload.

he noticed the little things. how you always brought an extra snack to work, just in case you forgot to eat lunch. how you would fidget with your pen when you were nervous. how you stayed late far more often than anyone else.

“You’re going to burn out if you keep this up,” he’d said one evening, leaning against your desk as you typed furiously on your keyboard.

“I don’t have a choice,” you’d replied, barely glancing at him. “Deadlines don’t wait.”

“Neither does your health,” he’d countered, his tone gentle but firm. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the bus stop.”

you’d protested at first, but he was insistent. and that became your first tradition: Hongjoong waiting for you after work, no matter how late you stayed, to make sure you got home safely.

over time, your interactions grew more personal. you found yourself confiding in him in ways you hadn’t with anyone else, sharing bits and pieces of your life that you usually kept locked away.

you told him about Hyunwoo—how he was the best thing that had ever happened to you, but also the hardest. how you felt like you were constantly falling short, no matter how hard you tried.

he never judged you, never offered empty platitudes. instead, he listened with a quiet intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t in years.

and Hongjoong, in turn, began to share pieces of himself. He told you about his younger brother, Jongho, and how he’d practically raised him after their parents passed away. he told you about his dream of opening his own design studio, how he’d been saving up for years but wasn’t quite ready to take the leap.

in those late-night conversations, walking to the bus stop under the glow of streetlights, that you began to realize how much he meant to you.

but you also knew better than to let yourself hope for anything more.

the first time Hongjoong met Hyunwoo outside of work, it wasn’t planned.

you were picking up takeout on your way home when you ran into him at the restaurant. be had been waiting for his order when he spotted you, his face lighting up in a way that made your chest tighten.

“Hey,” he said, his gaze flickering to the little boy clutching your hand. “This must be Hyunwoo.”

Hyunwoo peered up at him, his wide eyes curious. “Who are you?”

“I’m a friend of your mom’s,” Hongjoong said with a warm smile, crouching down to Hyunwoo’s level. “I’m Hongjoong.”

Hyunwoo tilted his head, studying him for a moment before nodding. “You talk funny.”

you groaned, your face heating with embarrassment. “Hyunwoo!”

but Hongjoong just laughed. “I get that a lot.”

it didn’t take long for Hyunwoo to warm up to Hongjoong.

at first, it was little things—like asking him questions about his favorite animals or showing off his latest crayon masterpieces. but soon, it became clear that Hyunwoo adored him.

“Mr. Joong is funny,” Hyunwoo said one evening as you tucked him into bed.

“Is he?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

Hyunwoo nodded, his grin wide. “He let me eat two cookies today.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Did he now?”

Hyunwoo giggled, clearly pleased with himself.

despite Hyunwoo’s growing fondness for Hongjoong, there were still moments when the absence of his father reared its head.

one evening, as the three of you were playing a board game, Hyunwoo suddenly looked up and asked, “Mr. Joong, are you a dad?”

the question caught both of you off guard. Hongjoong blinked, his hand freezing mid-move.

“No, I’m not,” he said gently, his gaze flickering to you before returning to Hyunwoo. “Why do you ask?”

Hyunwoo shrugged, his small shoulders rising and falling. “You’re nice. Like a dad.”

the words were innocent, but they struck you like a blow.

after Hyunwoo had gone to bed, you sat with Hongjoong in the living room, the air heavy with unspoken emotions.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered quietly, your hands twisting in your lap.

“For what?”

“For everything. For… for him not having what he deserves. For bringing you into this mess.”

“Stop,” Hongjoong said firmly, his voice cutting through your guilt. “Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault.”

tears stung your eyes, and you hated how raw and exposed you felt.

“He’s a great kid,” Hongjoong continued, his voice softening. “And that’s because of you. You’ve done everything for him. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, take that away from you.”

his words settled over you like a balm, soothing the ache you’d carried for so long.

over time, the lines between friendship and something more began to blur.

Hongjoong became a constant in your life—a steady presence who filled the empty spaces you had grown used to. he made Hyunwoo laugh in a way that lit up the entire room, and he looked at you like you were something worth waiting for.

and for the first time in years, you began to believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to do this alone.

but letting go of the past was never easy, and the fear of opening yourself up again still lingered.

the next day at work, you avoided him.

you buried yourself in spreadsheets and emails, keeping your head down and your heart carefully guarded. but Hongjoong was nothing if not perceptive.

“Alright,” he said, leaning against the edge of your desk during your lunch break. “What’s going on?”

you didn’t look up. “Nothing. I’m just busy.”

“You’ve been busy all day,” he pointed out, his tone laced with concern.

“Because I have work to do,” you replied, your voice sharper than you intended.

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t push. instead, he straightened and gave you a small smile. “Alright. But if you ever want to talk, you know where to find me.”

his words lingered long after he walked away.

the flowers didn’t stop.

each week, a new bouquet appeared on your porch— peonies, tulips, wildflowers. they were never flashy or over-the-top, always carefully chosen and tied with simple ribbons. and with each bouquet, your resolve faltered just a little more.

one evening, as you sat on the living room floor helping Hyunwoo with his drawing, he suddenly looked up at you with a thoughtful expression.

“Mommy,” he said, tilting his head. “Do you like Mr. Joong?”

the question caught you off guard, and you nearly dropped the crayon in your hand. “What?”

“Do you like him?” Hyunwoo repeated, his gaze curious and unrelenting.

“I—” you hesitated, unsure how to answer. “Why are you asking me that, sweetie?”

“Because he likes you,” Hyunwoo said matter-of-factly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat. “What makes you say that?”

“Because he’s nice to you,” Hyunwoo replied with a shrug. “And he gives you flowers. Only people who like each other give flowers. And I give you flowers!”

you laughed softly, ruffling his hair. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

Hyunwoo grinned, his gap-toothed smile lighting up his face.

you weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, you stopped resisting.

when Hongjoong left flowers— not on your porch, but rather on your desk, you no longer tried to convince yourself they weren’t meant for you. when he brought you coffee in the mornings or stayed late to help you with a project, you didn’t push him away. and when he smiled at you in that soft, almost shy way of his, you let yourself smile back.

it was terrifying, letting someone in after so many years of guarding your heart. but with Hongjoong, it didn’t feel like a risk. it felt like something you’d been waiting for without even realizing it.

one evening, as you and Hyunwoo were walking home from the park, you spotted a familiar figure standing by your porch.

“Mr. Joong!” Hyunwoo exclaimed, his face lighting up as he ran ahead.

Hongjoong turned, his expression softening as he crouched down to greet your son. “Hey, buddy. How was the park?”

“It was fun! I climbed the big slide all by myself!”

“Did you?” Hongjoong said, his eyes wide with mock amazement. “That’s impressive.”

as you approached, Hongjoong straightened, his gaze meeting yours. “Hi,” he said softly.

“Hey,” you replied, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“I, uh…” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically nervous. “I wanted to talk to you. If that’s okay.”

you nodded, your stomach twisting with anticipation. “Of course. Come inside.”

in the quiet of your living room, after Hyunwoo had scampered off to play with his toys, Hongjoong finally spoke.

“I know you’ve been through a lot,” he said, his voice steady but gentle. “And I don’t want to push you into anything you’re not ready for. But I care about you. A lot.”

you swallowed hard, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. “Hongjoong, I…”

he shook his head, stopping you. “You don’t have to say anything. I just needed you to know.”

the vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear. for a moment, you were silent, the weight of his words settling over you.

“I’m scared,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “And I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

“I’ll be right here. Until you’re ready.”

first time writing for ateez !! i’m so henxwbjz ik i promised abt the series- I’M SORRY. my finals are this year so i’ve been locked in 🔒 i’ll post one of the chaps and info abt the series this upcoming week i swear !!! hope y’all eat this up tho 🫶

ateez masterlist

© zzenkha . . . 2022 ,, do not repost, plagiarise, translate any of my works.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

Skz fake texts ── bf! SKZ Calling them “Husband” randomly strong dose of delulu

Warning: mentions of cursing, suggestive

── all fake texts

Requested.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

They sacrificed turbulence for iomt...

I would have sacrifice work for it not turbulence...

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

🌷⌇facing the truth finding our way back part 8; a choi jongho mini-series

ex-boyfriend! idol! jongho x ex-girlfriend! single-mom! reader

│ series masterlist│ next │

│synopsis: five years have passed since jongho last saw you. your lives have taken drastically different paths, with jongho achieving fame and you focusing on raising your daughter, nari, in quiet anonymity. when jongho discovers he has a daughter, he's determined to be a part of her life.

│genre: a slice of life, romance, fluff, some angst

│trigger warnings: emotional distress, mature language, confrontations, anxiety and mental turmoil⁠⁠​

│words: 8.4 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

— hi there my lovely people! it's been three months since my last update, I finally managed to have some time for writing during my Christmas/New Year break! honestly, i'm as nervous as the first time i ever posted on here but there's also a huge excitement. i missed you guys and this story so much! can't wait to hear all of your opinions!

as always

love, mon ♡

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Jongho stormed into his car, his body trembling with a mixture of rage and frustration. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing. For a moment, he sat there, his chest heaving as he tried to regain control of his emotions. Slowly, he unclenched his tightly gripped fists, wincing slightly as he felt the sting of his nails digging into his palms. With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward, gently resting his forehead against the cool surface of the steering wheel. The tension in his muscles began to ebb away, replaced by a profound sense of exhaustion and regret. As the adrenaline faded, the weight of the confrontation settled over him heavy. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself. The image of you standing between him and Hyunwoo, your eyes pleading for peace, flashed in his mind. Guilt washed over him as he realized how close he had come to losing control.

"Fuck..." he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. The weight of the situation crashed down on him, and he felt a mix of anger and disappointment in himself. He had promised you he would handle things differently, be better, but he had nearly lost it back there. The thought of disappointing you, made his stomach churn. Jongho ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. He knew he needed to calm down, to think clearly about what to do next. But the image of Hyunwoo's smug face kept flashing in his mind, reigniting his anger. He took another deep breath, trying to focus on what really mattered -you and Nari. "I need to fix this," he muttered to himself, his voice barely above a whisper in the quiet car. He knew he had to make things right, but he also knew he needed time to cool off first. With a heavy sigh, he started the car, deciding to take a drive to clear his head before facing the consequences of his actions.

As Jongho drove aimlessly through the streets, his phone suddenly lit up with an incoming call.

The caller ID displayed his manager's name, and Jongho's stomach dropped. With a heavy sigh, he answered the call, already anticipating bad news.

"What is it?" Jongho asked, his voice still carrying the rough edge of lingering anger, a testament to the confrontation that had just transpired in the hallway.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" his manager's voice thundered through the speaker with such force that Jongho had to pull the phone away from his ear, wincing at the volume. "I just got a call from Minho at KpopDaily. You know what he asked me? He asked me to confirm if Choi Jongho from ATEEZ has a three-year-old daughter! Do you have any idea how blindsided I was by this?"

Jongho's blood ran cold, a chill spreading through his entire body as the implications of those words sank in. His grip on the steering wheel tightened until his knuckles turned white, the leather creaking under the pressure. "What?" The single word came out as barely more than a whisper.

"They have photos, Jongho. Multiple photos. Clear shots of you with Nari, you putting her in the car, and even you talking to San and Wooyoung while she's with you. They're planning to run the story tomorrow morning." His manager's voice dropped dangerously low, each word dripping with barely contained fury. "Do you have any idea what kind of shitstorm this could create? The company executives are going to crucify me for this! Years of careful image management, gone in an instant!"

"Did... did they publish anything yet?" Jongho managed to ask, his throat constricting as waves of panic began to wash over him. His mind immediately raced to you and Nari - imagining the chaos that would descend upon your lives, the reporters that would hound your every step, the peaceful existence you'd carefully constructed crumbling under the weight of public scrutiny.

"No, thank god. I managed to convince Minho to hold off by promising him an exclusive interview instead. But listen to me carefully - this isn't going to stay buried for long. You need to get your ass to the company building right now. We need to handle this before it explodes in our faces and becomes completely unmanageable. The other members must be briefed too - this isn't just about you anymore. This affects all of ATEEZ, everything we've built together."

"I had a meeting with the CEO and PR team. They were so supportive before—everything was under control," Jongho said, his words barely above a whisper, more to himself than his manager. The manager let out a heavy sigh before answering.

"The company representatives only supported you because you agreed to follow their plan. Now everything's hanging by a thread. Don't you understand, Jongho? This has spiraled out of control. They didn't want to force your hand before, but that's about to change. I'm calling the CEO right now."

"Do you have to call them right now?" Jongho pleaded, his voice trembling with a mixture of desperation and fear. His fingers tightened around the phone as he tried one last time to delay the inevitable conversation that would change everything. "Maybe we could discuss this first, find another solution—" His desperate attempt to stop his manager was abruptly cut short.

"Yes I have to," the manager said firmly, his tone brooking no argument, each word carrying the weight of years of experience in the industry. "We can't keep this from them, Jongho. This isn't something we can handle on our own anymore, and every minute we delay could make things worse."

Jongho pulled over to the side of the road with trembling hands, his mind spinning like a tornado of worst-case scenarios. Everything he'd been desperately trying to protect - his precious relationship with you, Nari's innocent childhood, the delicate balance he'd been struggling to maintain between his two worlds - it was all threatening to come crashing down around him. The thought of his daughter being thrust into the harsh spotlight, of becoming fodder for entertainment news and social media speculation, made his stomach churn violently. "I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said quietly, his voice hollow as he ended the call. He sat in the suffocating silence of his car, his hands shaking uncontrollably as he tried to process the magnitude of what was happening. The weight of impending disaster pressed heavily on his chest. He needed to tell you, but the very thought made him feel sick with dread. How could he possibly find the words to say to you that your worst fears were about to become reality? That the peaceful life you'd built for Nari, the normal childhood you'd fought so hard to give her, was about to be turned upside down because he couldn't stay away because he'd been selfish enough to want to be part of your lives without considering the consequences?

Jongho pulled into the company parking lot with a heavy heart and trembling hands. The walk to the building entrance felt like the longest journey of his life, his footsteps seemed to match the thundering of his heartbeat as he approached the glass doors, his reflection distorted in their surface.

His manager was already waiting in the lobby, pacing back and forth with nervous energy that seemed to electrify the air around him. The moment he caught sight of Jongho, his hurried steps faltered, and his eyes widened in shock, immediately focusing on Jongho's swollen lip. The manager's expression shifted from surprise to barely contained frustration as he took in Jongho's disheveled appearance.

"What happened to your face?" the manager hissed through clenched teeth, stepping closer to examine the injury with a mixture of concern and exasperation evident in his features. His voice dropped to a whisper, tight with tension, "Please tell me you weren't in a fight. That's absolutely the last thing we need right now, of all possible moments."

Before Jongho could formulate a response or attempt to explain himself, a company representative approached them with quick, purposeful steps. Her usually perfectly composed expression wavered slightly as she noticed his injury, a crack in her professional facade that spoke volumes about the gravity of the situation. "The others are waiting in the main conference room," she said, her tone maintaining its professional edge but carrying an unmistakable undercurrent of tension. "We need to address this situation immediately - there's no time to waste."

The walk to the conference room felt surreal, like moving through a thick fog in a dream - or rather, a nightmare that was becoming increasingly vivid with each passing moment. The familiar corridors seemed longer and more imposing than ever before, the walls closing in with each step. When they finally entered the room, Jongho found all seven of his members already seated around the large table, their presence both comforting and intimidating. Their expressions ranged from deep concern to visible confusion, and the room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence as they collectively took in his disheveled appearance.

Seonghwa was the first to break through the thick tension that had settled over the room. His voice, gentle but laden with worry, cut through the silence like a warm knife. "Jongho, what's going on?" The genuine concern in his tone made Jongho's heart clench with guilt and apprehension.

Before Jongho could respond, the door swung open and the CEO strode in, followed by several members of the PR team. The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted, becoming even more tense as everyone straightened in their seats. Jongho's throat went dry as he realized this was the moment everything would change.

The CEO settled into his chair at the head of the table, his expression grave as he surveyed the room. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy in the air, pressing down on Jongho's shoulders like a physical burden.

"I'm sure we all know why we're here," the CEO sighed, massaging his forehead. The lines of exhaustion and concern were deeply etched on his face as he looked around the room, his gaze finally settling on Jongho. "The situation has escalated beyond our control, and we need to make some immediate decisions about how to proceed."

The tension in the room thickened, and Jongho could feel the questioning stares of his members burning into him.

"What exactly is going on?" Hongjoong's leader instincts kicked in, his voice steady but concerned as he looked between the CEO and Jongho, trying to piece together the situation.

"At KQ Entertainment, we pride ourselves on trust and friendship," one of the PR heads began, her voice laden with authority that filled the room. "But we can't ignore this situation any longer, Jongho." She paused, her steely gaze fixed on him. "From now on, we'll be making the decisions for you. You no longer have a choice in this matter," she declared with a finality that sent a chill down Jongho's spine.

"Can somebody enlighten us?" Hongjoong's voice cut through the tension, his tone firm yet controlled. "I'm the leader of the group. I should be the one representing our approach to whatever this situation is."

"There was... a media leak," the CEO spoke carefully, his words heavy with implications. He paused, gathering his thoughts before continuing to explain the situation. "The media has obtained photographs of Jongho with his daughter," the CEO stated bluntly, causing several gasps around the table. "They're planning to run a story tomorrow morning about his secret child. We've been managing this situation privately until now, but circumstances have forced our hand."

"Our PR team has already drafted a statement," he continued, sliding folders across the table. "We'll announce that Jongho has a daughter, frame it as a personal choice to maintain privacy and request understanding from fans. The statement will be released before the media breaks the story."

Hongjoong's chair scraped against the floor as he stood abruptly. "With all due respect, sir, this isn't just about PR. We're talking about a child's life here. Jongho's family. We can't just—"

"This isn't up for discussion," the PR head interrupted sharply. "The statement goes out in four hours. We need to control the narrative before it controls us."

Jongho sat there, shoulders slumped, feeling the weight of defeat crushing him. Everything he had feared was unfolding before his eyes, and he felt powerless to stop it. The heated exchange between Hongjoong and the executives continued around him, but their voices seemed distant, muffled by the roaring in his ears.

"You can't make unilateral decisions about our member's personal life!" Hongjoong's voice cut through Jongho's daze, sharp with anger. "We should at least discuss alternative approaches—"

"The time for discussion is over," the CEO's voice thundered through the room. "This is no longer just about Jongho or his family. This affects ATEEZ as a whole, our company's reputation, and the careers of everyone in this room."

"Jongho," the CEO's tone shifted, becoming deceptively calm, his fingers interlacing on the polished conference table as he leaned forward with an air of calculated authority. "We need you to contact Y/N immediately. As Nari's legal guardian, there are several time-sensitive documents that require her immediate attention and signature."

"Documents?" Jongho's voice emerged as barely more than a trembling whisper, his hands clenched tightly beneath the table as dread pooled in his stomach.

The PR head cleared her throat, adjusting her wire-rimmed glasses with practiced precision, her expression a masterclass in corporate calculation. "Yes. After careful consideration of all available options and extensive market research, we've determined that the most strategic course of action is to announce your engagement. A formal marriage ceremony, properly timed and publicized, will help significantly soften the blow to your public image and create a narrative that our PR team can effectively manage—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Hongjoong exploded, his chair screeching against the floor as he slammed both palms onto the table with enough force to make the water glasses rattle. His face was flushed with unbridled fury as he stood, shoulders tensed like a coiled spring. "You can't possibly think you have the right to force them into marriage! This goes beyond crossing a line—this is a complete violation of their basic human rights—"

"Watch your language and compose yourself immediately," the CEO snapped, his face flooding with color as he straightened in his chair. "This isn't some playground where you can throw tantrums, Hongjoong. This is a serious business matter that requires professional conduct."

"Business?" Hongjoong spat the word out like it was poison burning his tongue, his eyes blazing with righteous indignation. "We're talking about real people's lives here—actual human beings with feelings and rights—not some goddamn spreadsheet you can manipulate for profit!"

The room descended into absolute chaos, with voices rising and crashing against each other like waves in a storm. Heated protests collided with corporate justifications, profanities mingled with policy citations, and emotional pleas clashed with cold business logic. Through the deafening cacophony of the escalating argument, Jongho remained completely motionless in his chair, a statue of despair. His mind raced frantically to thoughts of you, his heart constricting painfully as he grappled with the impossible task of finding words to explain this new nightmare that was unfolding—how could he possibly tell you that their solution to protecting your privacy was to thrust you even further into the spotlight?

"Hyung, it's alright," Jongho said softly amongst the chaos. His quiet voice somehow managed to cut through the heated arguments surrounding him.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him, the sudden quiet almost deafening after the previous uproar. His shoulders were slumped in resignation, but there was a quiet determination in his eyes as he lifted his gaze to meet Hongjoong's concerned stare. "I'll talk to Y/N myself - she deserves to hear this from me, not through some corporate statement."

"No," the PR head's voice sliced through his plea, her tone leaving no room for argument or emotion. "This isn't a request, Jongho. This is a direct order from the company. Put her on speaker now. We've already dispatched a car with security personnel to collect both Y/N and Nari. They need to be present in this room immediately to handle this situation according to company protocol."

Jongho's face drained of all color as waves of panic clawed mercilessly at his chest, his breathing becoming shallow and rapid. "Please," he begged, his voice cracking with raw desperation that filled the room, his hands trembling visibly as he leaned forward in his chair. "I'm begging you to at least let me handle this part myself. They deserve that much consideration - let me explain everything to them in person, face to face—"

"That's not an option," she interrupted with glacial finality, her expression hardening into an impenetrable mask of corporate authority as she extended her hand across the table, fingers splayed expectantly. "Your phone. Hand it over. Now."

The silence that followed was electric, charged with a tension that could almost be physically felt. Yeosang's voice, usually soft and measured, cut through the stillness with unexpected force.

"We will all terminate our contracts immediately if you don't allow Jongho to handle this situation with the respect and dignity it deserves," Yeosang declared firmly, his usually gentle voice carrying an unmistakable edge of steel. The quiet member's unexpected declaration sent shockwaves through the room, causing everyone present to turn toward him in stunned silence. His words hung heavy in the air, transforming the already tense atmosphere into something electric with possibility.

As if choreographed, all seven members rose from their chairs in perfect synchronization, the sharp scraping of chair legs against the floor creating a symphony of defiance. Their unified movement, performed without hesitation or discussion, conveyed a message more powerful than any words could express. The solidarity emanating from their stance transformed the corporate meeting room into a battlefield where the lines had been clearly drawn.

Yunho's voice cut through the tension, steady and unwavering, his usual playfulness replaced by iron determination. "You'll have my formal resignation letter on your desk first thing tomorrow morning," he declared, each word carefully measured and delivered with devastating precision. His typically bright and cheerful features had hardened into an expression of unmovable resolve, his eyes blazing with a fierce intensity that none in the room had witnessed before.

San's quiet but firm voice joined the chorus of solidarity. "My contract will be on that desk too," he stated, his usually bright eyes now dark with determination. The atmosphere in the room shifted as the executives exchanged nervous glances, clearly unprepared for this united front from all eight members.

"All of you calm down right now and sit down!" the CEO demanded, his voice thundering through the room as he slammed his fist on the table. His face had turned a dangerous shade of red, veins visibly pulsing at his temples. "Jongho, go and talk to that girl. The car's probably already waiting for them."

The other members remained standing, their expressions unwavering despite the CEO's outburst.

Jongho stood up slowly, his movements heavy with the weight of what was to come. His members' protective stance gave him strength, but the dread in his heart was overwhelming. With trembling fingers, he pulled out his phone, staring at your contact information on the screen.

"Give me fifteen minutes," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just fifteen minutes to explain everything to her before she comes here."

The PR head opened her mouth to object, but Hongjoong cut her off with a sharp glare. "Fifteen minutes," he stated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "That's the absolute minimum of human decency we can offer in this situation."

The tension in the room was suffocating as Jongho stepped out into the hallway, his footsteps echoing against the walls. Finding a quiet corner, he pressed your number with shaking hands, his heart thundering in his chest as he waited for you to answer.

The call connected after three rings. Your voice, warm yet worried, came through the speaker, filled with a mixture of relief and concern. "Jongho? Oh my god, are you alright? I've been worried sick about you. I'm so glad you finally called. I've been beside myself with worry ever since everything happened. I'm so, so sorry about all of this—Hyunwoo has never, ever acted like this before... I still can't believe it happened. Your lip—how bad is it? Have you been able to put any ointment on it? Does it hurt much?"

Jongho's throat constricted painfully, making even the simplest words feel impossible to voice. A heavy weight settled in his chest as the reality of what he needed to tell you pressed down on him. How could he possibly find the right words to explain that your carefully constructed world was about to come crashing down around you? That the delicate balance you'd both worked so hard to maintain for all these years was about to splinter into countless irreparable pieces?

"I'm... I'm fine," he finally managed to say, his voice emerging as little more than a strained whisper. Each syllable sent a sharp twinge of pain through his split lip, "Hyunwoo was... upset. I understand why he reacted that way. Finding out about everything like that, the way he did..." He trailed off, his words fading into silence as the crushing weight of what he needed to tell you threatened to overwhelm him completely.

"The ointment... no, I haven't had the opportunity to take care of it yet," he continued, struggling to maintain some semblance of composure even as his voice threatened to break with each word. The genuine concern and warmth in your voice only served to make his next necessary words feel even more impossible to speak.

"Please come home to us, Jongho," you said softly, your voice carrying all the tenderness and care that he'd grown to love so deeply. "I have plenty of ointment here, and we can sit down properly and talk through everything that happened—"

"Y/N, I need you to listen to me very carefully," Jongho cut you off, his voice strained with an emotion so intense it seemed to physically pain him to speak.

"There's a company car on its way to pick you and Nari up right now," he continued each word feeling like glass in his throat. "The situation... it's escalated beyond our control. I tried—" His voice cracked, heavy with the weight of his powerlessness. "I tried so hard to protect you both, but they're demanding you come to the company immediately." Jongho's voice trembled, thick with emotion. "The company... they've made some decisions about how to handle our situation. I fought against it, we all did, but—" He drew in a shaky breath. "There are documents they need you to sign. Important ones. Time-sensitive ones."

"Jongho, you're scaring me," your voice wavered. "What kind of documents? What's happening?"

"I can't... I can't explain everything over the phone. But you need to know that things are about to change drastically. The company has a plan, and they're not giving us much choice in the matter."

"I'm not bringing Nari," you said firmly, "If things are this serious if you sound this frightened, there's no way I'm exposing my daughter to whatever's happening at the company right now."

"They specifically requested both of you," Jongho's voice cracked. "As Nari's legal guardian, they say your presence is mandatory for these documents—"

"Legal guardian?" Your voice rose with mounting panic. "Jongho, what does Nari have to do with any of this? What kind of documents could possibly require her involvement?"

"Please," he begged, his voice barely above a whisper. "Trust me when I say I never wanted any of this. The car will be there soon. I'll be waiting for you both when you arrive. I promise I'll explain everything face to face."

"If what happened this morning meant anything to you," Jongho continued, his voice dropping to an intimate whisper, heavy with emotion, "if that kiss meant what I think it did... please, Y/N. I know it sounds crazy, I know you're worried about Nari, but if I still mean something to you—anything at all—get into that car and come to me. Your answer, you being here... it means everything right now."

The moment you ended the call, your hands were trembling so violently you nearly lost your grip on your phone, the device slipping precariously between your trembling fingers. Something in Jongho's voice - that raw edge of desperation and fear, that unmistakable tremor of barely contained emotion - sent waves of ice cascading through your veins, leaving you feeling cold and unsteady. You took several deep breaths, your fingers gripping the kitchen counter's edge so tightly that your knuckles turned white, trying desperately to ground yourself.

"Nari!" you called out, summoning every ounce of strength to keep your voice light and casual, fighting against the growing storm of anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you completely. "Sweetheart, we're going to visit Uncle Jongho and the others, you can pack your backpack!"

The excited squeal that echoed from her room brought a bittersweet smile to your face, your heart clenching painfully at her innocent joy. You could hear her little feet pattering energetically across the floor, the familiar sound of drawers being yanked open with unbridled enthusiasm filling the apartment.

"Can I bring my Woo?" she called back, her voice filled with childlike excitement as she referred to the treasured stuffed rabbit. "And the drawing I made for Uncle Wooyoung? The one with all the hearts and stars?"

"Yes, baby. Bring whatever you'd like," you responded, your feet already carrying you toward her room to help. You found her in the middle of organized chaos, toys flying through the air as she enthusiastically tossed them into her favorite pink backpack, her face glowing with pure, unrestrained excitement.

As you methodically helped her fold clothes properly and pack the essential items, your mind raced uncontrollably with possibilities, each scenario your imagination conjured more concerning than the last. Legal documents involving Nari? The mere thought sent your stomach into painful knots, acid rising in your throat as you contemplated the implications.

"Mommy, are you okay?" Nari's small, worried voice pulled you abruptly from your spiraling thoughts. You realized with a start that you'd been holding the same dress in your hands for several minutes, staring unseeing at its familiar pattern.

"Of course, sweetie," you forced what you hoped was a convincing smile, reaching out to gently tuck a wayward strand of her soft hair behind her ear, your touch lingering for just a moment longer than usual. "Just thinking about how happy Uncle Jongho and Uncle Wooyoung will be to see you."

With movements that felt both hurried and somehow underwater-slow, you quickly zipped up Nari's backpack, grabbed your own bag, and took her small, warm hand firmly in yours, drawing comfort from her innocent touch.

"Remember what we always say about being brave?" you asked her softly as you carefully locked the front door, your keys jingling quietly in the hallway.

"That being brave doesn't mean not being scared," she recited proudly, swinging your joined hands back and forth with carefree abandon. "It means doing what's right even when you are scared!"

You blinked rapidly to hold back the hot tears that threatened to spill over, squeezing her tiny hand gently as you approached the sleek black company car that seemed to loom ominously in the afternoon light. The driver stepped out, bowing politely as he opened the door for you both.

Throughout the seemingly endless drive, Nari chatted animatedly about seeing her beloved uncles, her voice rising and falling with excitement. Her innocent enthusiasm and pure joy stood in stark contrast to the growing knot of dread that had taken up permanent residence in your stomach, becoming heavier and more suffocating with each meter the car drew closer to the company building.

As you stepped out of the car, the late afternoon sun caught the gleaming glass facade of the building, its reflective surface seeming to mock the turmoil churning inside you. Nari bounced excitedly beside you, her small hand warm and trusting in yours, completely oblivious to the weight of the moment. The security guard's usually friendly smile was replaced with a carefully neutral expression as he wordlessly directed you toward the executive floor.

In the elevator, Nari hummed softly to herself, clutching her backpack. You found yourself studying her reflection in the polished elevator doors - her innocent excitement, the way she swayed slightly to her own tune, the pure trust in her eyes when she looked up at you. Your throat tightened painfully.

"Look, Mommy!" she exclaimed as the doors opened, pointing eagerly down the hallway. "I think I can hear Uncle San's laugh!"

But you knew better. The muffled voices coming from behind the closed conference room door held none of the warmth and joy that typically characterized the members' presence. Instead, there was an edge of tension, sharp and dangerous, that made your steps falter slightly as you approached.

Just before you could reach for the door handle, it swung open from the inside. Jongho stood there, his usually bright eyes shadowed with an emotion you couldn't quite read. The split in his lip was an angry red, a stark reminder of this morning's chaos. Behind him, you could see the other members standing in a protective semicircle, their faces unusually serious. The sight of suited executives seated at the far end of the conference table made your heart skip several beats.

"Uncle Jongho!" Nari squealed with delight, launching herself into his arms. Despite the gravity of the situation, Jongho's face softened as he caught her, pulling her into a tight embrace. For a brief moment, his eyes closed as he held her close, as if drawing strength from her innocent affection. But the tender moment was interrupted by a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder. Turning, you found yourself face to face with one of the company's senior managers, her expression professionally neutral but her eyes cold.

"Miss Y/N," she said smoothly, "if you'll follow me, we have some matters to discuss in private first. Nari can stay here with the members while we talk."

"I'll follow you once I make sure my daughter is properly settled," you said with an icy edge to your voice, turning deliberately towards the conference room. Your eyes moved methodically across the members' faces, searching each expression for any hint of reassurance or warning, desperately trying to read between the lines of their carefully composed expressions.

"Nari, my precious princess!" Wooyoung's excited voice cut through the suffocating tension like a warm ray of sunshine. Without hesitation, Nari's small hand slipped from yours as she bounded across the room, her little feet carrying her straight into his welcoming arms. Despite the crushing weight of anxiety pressing down on your chest, you couldn't suppress the small, genuine smile that tugged at your lips watching their interaction. The pure, uncomplicated joy on your daughter's face provided a momentary respite from the mounting tension.

"Hello, I'm Y/N," you said with as much composure as you could muster, and the members each bowed respectfully in response, their movements carrying a gravity that seemed to acknowledge the weight of the situation.

Wooyoung's eyes brightened with recognition, a flash of warmth breaking through the otherwise tense atmosphere. "We already met at that fan meeting, haven't we?" You nodded, feeling a small measure of relief wash over you at the sight of his familiar, friendly face amidst this increasingly unsettling situation.

"If I could ask you to watch over Nari..." you began, your voice trailing off as you struggled to maintain your composure. But there was no need to complete the request. The members all responded with immediate and enthusiastic agreement, their genuine affection for your daughter evident in their eager nods and warm smiles. The sincerity in their responses provided a small measure of comfort, even as uncertainty about what lay ahead continued to gnaw at your insides.

With one final glance at Nari, now happily settled in Wooyoung's lap and showing him her treasured drawings, you turned to follow the manager. Your steps felt leaden, each one carrying you further from your daughter and closer to whatever life-altering documents awaited your signature. Jongho's worried gaze followed you down the hallway, his presence both a comfort and a source of mounting anxiety as you approached the adjacent meeting room.

The executive boardroom felt oppressively small as you and Jongho took your seats across from the CEO's imposing desk. The leather of your chair creaked softly as you shifted, hyperaware of how Jongho deliberately angled his body away from yours, his gaze fixed firmly on the polished wood surface before him. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

The CEO cleared his throat, shuffling some papers on his desk with practiced precision. "Miss Y/N, we appreciate you coming in on such short notice. We have a rather delicate situation that requires immediate attention."

"With all due respect," you interrupted, your voice tight with barely contained anger, "I'd appreciate if we could skip the corporate pleasantries and get straight to why my daughter and I were summoned here like this."

The CEO's expression hardened perceptibly, his features settling into a mask of stern professionalism. "Very well. The photographs that emerged this morning showing Jongho with your daughter have created what we consider to be an extremely delicate and complicated situation. Our public relations team has been working diligently around the clock to minimize the spread of these images across social media platforms, but I'm afraid the damage to our carefully maintained public image is already quite substantial."

"What photographs are you referring to?" you interjected sharply, your heart suddenly thundering against your ribcage with such force you could feel each beat in your throat. "I need to know exactly what was captured in these images. When were they taken? Where?" Your eyes darted frantically between the CEO and Jongho, desperately searching their expressions for any hint of reassurance as waves of panic began to crash over you, threatening to pull you under. "I have every right to know precisely what kind of 'damage' we're discussing here."

The CEO's jaw clenched visibly as he reached for a sleek tablet on his desk, his movements deliberate and controlled. With a swift motion, he slid the device across the polished surface toward you. The screen displayed several crystal-clear, high-resolution photographs that had obviously been taken by a professional photographer. They captured moments between Jongho and Nari outside the KQ building just yesterday - tender scenes of him holding her small hand in his as they walked together, their body language speaking volumes about their close relationship.

"These images were captured yesterday evening," the CEO explained, his clipped tone barely masking his displeasure with the situation.

Your hands shook uncontrollably as you swiped through the collection of photographs, each new image feeling like another heavy blow to your carefully constructed world. The quality was undeniable - every detail crystal clear. Your throat constricted painfully as you raised your eyes to meet the CEO's stern gaze, dreading whatever would come next.

"After extensive consultation, our public relations team has developed what we believe to be the most effective damage control strategy," the CEO continued, his voice taking on an almost mechanical quality in its professional detachment. "We propose orchestrating a controlled media reveal - an exclusive interview where Jongho can properly introduce Nari to the public. We'll carefully craft the narrative to emphasize his role as a father figure in her life. Our market research indicates that the public tends to respond very favorably to these kinds of heartwarming human interest stories."

"I absolutely refuse to even consider that proposal," you interrupted, your voice trembling with a combination of barely contained rage and protective instinct. "My daughter is not some convenient plot point in your corporate damage control narrative. She is a child - an innocent child who has every right to privacy and protection from this kind of exploitation."

The CEO's expression remained carefully neutral, though a muscle twitched in his jaw. "There are additional considerations we need to address. Given the sensitive nature of these circumstances, our board believes the most prudent course of action would be to accelerate the implementation of certain pre-existing contingency plans - specifically, the wedding arrangements-"

The word 'wedding' struck you with the force of a physical assault, causing your vision to swim and blur around the edges as your mind struggled to process this devastating new development.

"Wedding?" The word escaped your lips as little more than a breathless whisper, your wide eyes snapping to Jongho's face, but he steadfastly avoided your gaze, his shoulders tense. "Are you telling me you agreed to this? All of this? Without even discussing it with me?"

The crushing silence that followed your questions seemed to stretch for an eternity. Unable to contain your turbulent emotions any longer, you abruptly pushed back from the table, your chair scraping harshly against the floor. "How could you do this to us?" The words emerged as a broken whisper, heavy with betrayal. "How could you be so reckless with our daughter's safety?"

Jongho finally lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes swimming with anguish and regret. "Y/N, please, if you'll just let me explain-"

"No," you cut him off sharply, instinctively backing away from the table as if physical distance could somehow lessen the emotional pain. "You don't get to explain anything right now. You carelessly allowed yourself to be photographed with her in public. You knew exactly what risks that entailed. You understood perfectly well what was at stake, and yet..." Your voice cracked under the weight of your emotions. "I placed my absolute trust in you. I entrusted you with the most precious thing in my entire world."

"Please believe me when I say I never intended for any of this to happen," Jongho pleaded, rising from his chair and reaching toward you desperately, but you instinctively recoiled from his attempted touch. "The company had already prepared contingency plans for various scenarios. I thought I could handle-"

"You thought what exactly?" you interrupted, your voice sharp with pain as tears of anger and betrayal burned in your eyes. "That you could make decisions about our future without even consulting me? That you could allow my daughter to become nothing more than a convenient publicity opportunity?"

The CEO cleared his throat diplomatically. "Miss Y/N, I must emphasize that this solution we're proposing represents the most advantageous outcome for everyone involved in this situation-"

"Advantageous?" A bitter laugh escaped your throat, the sound entirely devoid of humor. "I'd very much like to know exactly who benefits from this arrangement. Your company's bottom line? Your carefully cultivated public image? Have you given any thought at all to what might be advantageous for my daughter's wellbeing?"

Turning back to face Jongho, your voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, laden with years of careful sacrifice. "For years, I've lived my entire life in the shadows, keeping our past relationship hidden from the world, doing everything in my power to protect Nari. And you managed to demolish all of that careful protection in one thoughtless moment."

The raw pain evident in Jongho's expression was almost unbearable to witness. "Y/N, please... you know how deeply I love Nari. We can work through this together, find a solution that protects everyone."

"Love?" Your voice broke on a single syllable. "If this is love, then it should have manifested as protection. Love would have meant thinking through the consequences before acting. Love would have demanded consulting me before allowing our private lives to be transformed into fodder for public consumption."

Jongho suddenly surged to his feet, his chair scraping violently against the floor. "I want to be absolutely clear - I did not agree to any of this!" he insisted vehemently, his hand reaching out toward you in a gesture of desperate supplication. "All I want is to do what's best for our family!"

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught painfully in your throat as a tempest of conflicting emotions raged within you. Before you could gather your scattered thoughts, Jongho pressed on, his voice raw with emotion and desperation.

"Just this morning, you told me you wanted her to know I'm her father!" His eyes searched yours pleadingly, desperate for understanding. "What changed between then and now? Help me understand what's different!"

Your hands clenched into tight fists at your sides as the full weight of his words crashed over you. "Everything changed the moment you allowed our private life to become a public spectacle," you responded, your voice quavering with an overwhelming mixture of anger, fear, and protective instinct. "I wanted her to discover you as her father in our own way, on our own timeline - not as part of some hastily constructed corporate strategy to minimize scandal."

The CEO's voice cut through the tense silence, his tone carefully measured. "Miss Y/N, I understand your concerns, but we need to address this situation immediately. The longer we wait, the more difficult damage control becomes."

You turned to face him, your expression hardening with renewed determination. "The only 'damage' I'm concerned about is the potential harm to my daughter's wellbeing, and I will not allow her to become collateral damage in your corporate crisis management."

Without another word, you spun on your heel and strode purposefully toward the door, your footsteps echoing sharply against the polished floor. The sound of chairs scraping and voices calling after you faded into background noise as you focused solely on reaching Nari.

You had barely made it halfway down the hallway when a gentle but firm hand caught your arm, causing you to pause mid-stride. "Y/N, wait." Hongjoong's voice was soft but steady, his grip loosening slightly when you turned to face him.

You laughed bitterly, the sound catching roughly in your throat as raw emotion threatened to overwhelm you completely. "With all due respect, you're the last person I want to talk to right now," you managed to say, each word carrying the weight of your internal turmoil. "I need to get my daughter and leave," you repeated, your voice tight with barely contained emotion as you struggled to maintain your composure. "Right now."

"I know," Hongjoong replied softly, maintaining steady eye contact as he spoke with careful deliberation. "And I won't stop you. But please, just take a moment to breathe and center yourself. Nari is safe and happy with the others right now, playing and laughing without a care in the world. She doesn't need to see you this upset."

His words hit home with devastating accuracy, forcing you to acknowledge the painful truth in them. Your hands were still trembling uncontrollably, your breathing coming in short, uneven gasps that betrayed your emotional state. The last thing you wanted was to frighten Nari with your current emotional turmoil, to let her see how deeply shaken you were by these unexpected developments.

"Y/N," Hongjoong began again, his voice maintaining that perfect balance between gentleness and firmness, "I know you're scared and angry right now, and believe me, you have every right to feel this way. But please, just listen for a moment - that's all I'm asking." He paused meaningfully, waiting until you reluctantly met his unwavering gaze before continuing with careful precision. "This isn't just about damage control or corporate image - it's about protecting Nari in the most effective way possible."

"The photos are already out there in the world," he continued softly, his voice carrying a note of regrettable certainty. "Even if we pursue every possible legal action against the media outlets, we can't undo what's been done. Nari's face is now recognizable to the public. Without the company's extensive protection and comprehensive security measures, she'll be completely vulnerable to constant harassment from aggressive reporters and obsessive fans who won't hesitate to cross boundaries."

"By controlling the narrative ourselves," Hongjoong explained, his tone remaining calm and reasonable even as he delivered these difficult truths, "we can provide her with proper security measures, carefully manage media access, and create clear, enforceable boundaries that will protect her privacy as much as possible. It's not an ideal situation, I know that better than most, but it's the safest option we have available to us right now. One way or another, the media will run this story - it's inevitable. At least this way, we can protect her on our own terms, maintaining some control over how this sensitive information is presented to the world."

You felt the fight slowly drain from your body as the weight of Hongjoong's words settled over you. As much as you wanted to deny it, to rage against the unfairness of it all, you couldn't ignore the undeniable logic in his argument. Your fingers unconsciously twisted the hem of your sleeve as you struggled to process this new reality, where protecting Nari might mean sacrificing the very privacy you'd fought so hard to maintain.

Looking at Hongjoong now, you couldn't help but recognize the stark contrast between his measured, thoughtful approach and Jongho's impulsive actions. While Jongho had acted rashly, potentially compromising Nari's safety, Hongjoong was offering a voice of reason and genuine concern for your daughter's wellbeing. His leadership qualities shone through in this moment of crisis, demonstrating why he was trusted with guiding the group through countless challenges. The way he presented the situation - with clarity, empathy, and an unwavering focus on Nari's protection - made you see things from a different perspective. Unlike the cold corporate strategy meeting, Hongjoong took the time to understand and acknowledge your fears while offering practical solutions. It was a stark reminder of how true leadership should function - not through unilateral decisions, but through understanding and guidance.

You couldn't help but wish Jongho had approached the situation with the same level of thoughtfulness and consideration that Hongjoong was displaying now. Perhaps if he had, you wouldn't be standing here, feeling like your world was crumbling around you.

"And about Jongho..." Hongjoong's voice softened, his expression shifting to one of gentle understanding. "I know you're hurt and feeling betrayed right now, but try to see this from his perspective for a moment. He's navigating completely uncharted territory here."

The leader's eyes held a mix of empathy and earnestness as he continued. "Being thrust into fatherhood in the public eye, trying to balance his responsibilities as an idol with his desperate desire to be there for his daughter - it's overwhelming. He's terrified of making mistakes, yet that fear itself led him to make one."

"When he saw Nari that day, all his careful planning went out the window. The pure joy of being able to openly interact with his daughter, even for just a moment..." Hongjoong paused, choosing his words carefully. "It clouded his judgment, yes, but it came from a place of love and longing."

"I'm not excusing his actions," Hongjoong added quickly, holding up a placating hand. "But I've seen how this situation has been tearing him apart. He wants nothing more than to be the father Nari deserves, even if he's still learning what that means."

Your breath caught in your throat as Hongjoong's words sank in, forcing you to confront the complexity of emotions swirling within you. The anger was still there, burning hot and fierce, but it was now tempered by an understanding that left you feeling hollow and uncertain. Standing in that sterile hallway, you found yourself at a crossroads between protecting the careful life you'd built and accepting that perhaps it was time for something new to take its place.

Hongjoong's gentle smile and understanding demeanor provided a small measure of comfort amid the chaos. "How about we borrow some time and sit down to talk this through properly, hm?" he suggested, his voice carrying that same reassuring steadiness that had helped ground you moments before.

You found yourself nodding, a small, tired smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the tempest of emotions still churning within you, you had to admit that taking a moment to breathe and think clearly wasn't the worst idea. After all, any decisions made in the heat of anger rarely led to the best outcomes - especially when those decisions would affect Nari's future.

"Coffee?" Hongjoong smiled warmly, and you finally released a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

"Yes, coffee," you agreed softly, feeling some of the tension leave your shoulders.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

It all started with a song || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Jihoon x Producer-Solo Idol Reader

Genre: Fluff, Idol romance

Summary: Jihoon, the reserved genius of SEVENTEEN, unexpectedly finds himself drawn to Y/N, a rising junior idol from HYBE, after collaborating on a duet. What starts as a professional partnership blossom into a heartfelt romance, captured in their respective songs

Author's note: This is my first time writing a story, and I truly appreciate you giving it a chance. Please forgive me if there are any mistakes—I’m still learning and growing as a writer. Thank you so much for taking the time to read and support my work. It means the world to me, and I hope you enjoy the journey I’ve created.

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

Jihoon was preparing to release his solo album, which included a heartfelt duet about two lovers. After finishing his own parts, his next challenge was to find the perfect female lead for the song. With Bumzu’s help, he sifted through several demos of the female section.

After an exhaustive search, one demo finally stood out to him—it was exactly what he was looking for. When Bumzu visited him the next day, he asked, “Did any of the lyrics catch your attention?”

Jihoon nodded and showed him the demo.

“Oh, so you liked Y/N’s lyrics,” Bumzu said with a knowing smile. That’s when Jihoon learned that the lyrics had been written by Y/N, a junior solo idol from HYBE.

“You’ve never met her, have you?” Bumzu asked.

Jihoon shook his head. It was no surprise—everyone knew Jihoon wasn’t one to socialize much.

“I’ll bring her to the studio tomorrow,” Bumzu said confidently before heading out, leaving Jihoon to ponder the upcoming meeting.

The next day, Jihoon arrived at the studio earlier than usual, his mind a mix of anticipation and curiosity. He wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew Y/N by name, but meeting her in person would be different.

As he set up his equipment, the door swung open, and Bumzu walked in with a bright grin. Behind him was Y/N, her presence soft yet commanding. She wore a simple outfit, but her confidence and aura made it clear why she was a rising star.

“Jihoon, meet Y/N,” Bumzu introduced.

Jihoon stood, his usual calm demeanor masking his nerves. “Hi,” he greeted simply, bowing slightly.

“Hi! It’s so great to finally meet you Sunbae-nim" Y/N said with a warm smile. Her voice was light and melodic, just as he’d imagined. “I’ve heard so much about you and your music.”

“Likewise, but please don't call me sunbae-nim, you can call me by my name,” Jihoon replied, his words brief but sincere.

Bumzu clapped his hands together, breaking the silence. “Alright, let’s get to work! You two have a duet to perfect.”

Jihoon gestured toward the recording booth, silently inviting Y/N to take her place. As they started working through the song, Jihoon found himself impressed—not just by her vocal ability but by her understanding of the emotions behind the lyrics.

They went over the harmonies and phrasing, fine-tuning every detail. By the end of the session, Jihoon was pleasantly surprised at how smoothly everything had gone. Y/N wasn’t just talented; she was professional and insightful, bringing a depth to the song that exceeded his expectations.

“You’re really good,” Jihoon said as they wrapped up, his tone earnest.

Y/N beamed. “Thank you! Your composition is amazing—it makes it easy to connect with the song.”

For the first time in a while, Jihoon felt a genuine sense of excitement about the project. Maybe working with others wasn’t so bad after all.

After their first session, Jihoon couldn’t stop thinking about how seamlessly Y/N had brought the song to life. It was rare for him to feel this level of connection with another artist, especially so quickly.

The next day, Bumzu texted Jihoon. "How was it working with Y/N? She said she had a great time."

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before typing back. "She’s talented. The song’s coming together well."

Bumzu responded with a teasing emoji. "That’s high praise from you! Maybe you should tell her that in person."

Jihoon frowned slightly but didn’t reply. Compliments weren’t exactly his strong suit.

Their second studio session was scheduled later that week. Y/N arrived on time, as cheerful and prepared as before. Jihoon noticed how her energy seemed to brighten the room, even when she was just warming up.

“Good morning!” she greeted with a bright smile.

Jihoon nodded. “Morning. Ready to dive in?”

“Always,” she said confidently.

As they worked through the song again, Jihoon found himself more at ease. Y/N’s suggestions were thoughtful, and she wasn’t afraid to ask questions or offer input, which he appreciated. Somewhere in between harmonizing and tweaking lines, they started to find a rhythm—not just in the music, but in their conversations.

During a short break, Y/N leaned back in her chair. “You know, Jihoon, this is one of the most beautiful songs I’ve ever worked on. It feels so raw and real.”

Jihoon glanced at her, caught off guard by her sincerity. “Thanks. That means a lot,” he said quietly.

“Is it based on a personal experience?” she asked cautiously, as if afraid to overstep.

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Kind of. It’s… inspired by the idea of love. Not necessarily mine, though.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying him. “I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to write about emotions from a distance.”

Jihoon nodded, appreciating her understanding. Their conversation drifted to other topics—music, inspirations, and even random stories about life as idols. For someone he’d only met recently, Y/N was surprisingly easy to talk to.

By the end of the session, the song was nearly complete. As they packed up, Y/N turned to Jihoon.

“I think this duet is going to be really special,” she said. “Thank you for letting me be part of it.”

Jihoon looked at her, feeling a rare warmth in her words. “You brought the song to life. I should be thanking you.”

Her eyes lit up at his unexpected praise. “Well, I guess we make a pretty good team,” she said with a grin.

Jihoon allowed himself a small smile. “Yeah, we do.”

As Y/N left the studio that day, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that meeting her had been one of the best things to happen during this project.

In the weeks that followed, Jihoon and Y/N spent more time together polishing their duet. Each session seemed to bring them closer, not just as collaborators but as individuals. Y/N’s infectious laughter and unfiltered enthusiasm often pulled Jihoon out of his shell, while Jihoon’s quiet determination and thoughtful approach inspired Y/N to push herself even further.

One day, as they wrapped up the final recording, Bumzu entered the studio with a wide grin. “So, how does it feel to be done?”

Y/N clapped her hands together excitedly. “It feels amazing! I can’t wait for people to hear it.”

Jihoon nodded in agreement, his usual stoicism giving way to a subtle but genuine smile. “It’s better than I imagined.”

Bumzu raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Wow, Jihoon actually giving compliments? I need to write this down.”

Y/N laughed. “He’s not that bad. He’s just… selective with his words.”

Jihoon shot her a mock glare, but there was no malice behind it. Instead, he found himself smiling along with her—a rare occurrence that didn’t go unnoticed by Bumzu.

As they packed up, Bumzu pulled Jihoon aside. “You know, you’ve changed a bit since working with her,” he said casually.

Jihoon frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you seem… lighter. Happier, even,” Bumzu said with a knowing grin. “It’s a good look on you.”

Jihoon didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he glanced over at Y/N, who was chatting animatedly with a staff member. There was something about her—something that made him feel less burdened, more open to the world around him.

The song’s release day arrived, and the response was overwhelming. Fans praised the emotional depth of the duet, calling it one of Jihoon’s best works yet. Many were also captivated by the chemistry between Jihoon and Y/N, evident not just in their vocals but in the behind-the-scenes clips shared online.

As they stood backstage during a live performance, Y/N turned to Jihoon. “Are you nervous?” she asked, noticing his unusually quiet demeanor.

“A little,” he admitted. “Not about the song, though. I just hope people feel what we tried to convey.”

Y/N placed a reassuring hand on his arm. “They will. This song has so much heart in it. You’ve poured yourself into it, and I’ve never been prouder to be part of something.”

Her words struck a chord with Jihoon. For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone in his creative journey. “Thank you,” he said softly.

When they stepped on stage and began to sing, Jihoon realized something unexpected. The song, which he’d once viewed as merely a project, had become something far more personal. And in that moment, as their voices blended and the audience’s applause filled the air, Jihoon understood just how much Y/N had changed his perspective—not just on music, but on life itself.

After the performance, Y/N grinned at him. “See? We nailed it.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his expression warm. “We really did.”

And as they walked off stage together, Jihoon couldn’t help but think that this was only the beginning of a story far greater than either of them had anticipated.

In the days following the song's release, the hype only grew. The other members of SEVENTEEN were quick to congratulate Jihoon. Mingyu, with his ever-present energy, was the first to bring it up during one of their group practice sessions.

“Hyung! That duet is insane! Everyone’s talking about you and Y/N,” Mingyu said, clapping him on the back.

Joshua added with a smile, “Yeah, the fans are loving the chemistry. You two sounded amazing together.”

Jihoon felt a rare flush of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. “Thanks, guys. It was a lot of work, but she made it easier.”

“Oh-ho!” Seungkwan chimed in, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hyung admitting someone made his life easier? This must be a first!”

The room erupted into laughter. Even Jeonghan, who always had a teasing comment up his sleeve, smirked. “So when do we get to meet this famous Y/N?”

Before Jihoon could respond, the studio door creaked open and in walked Bumzu—with Y/N beside him. The sudden appearance of their guest caught everyone’s attention.

“Speak of the devil!” Vernon said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N waved nervously, a bit overwhelmed by being surrounded by the full force of SEVENTEEN. “Hi, everyone. It’s nice to finally meet all of you.”

Dino bounded over with enthusiasm. “You’re the one with that amazing voice! Your part in the song gave me chills.”

“Thanks!” Y/N said, her smile growing as she relaxed.

Hoshi, never one to miss a moment, stepped forward and grinned. “Are you ready to dance with us too? Because in SEVENTEEN, we don’t just sing—we dance.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide a small smirk. “Don’t scare her off, Hoshi.”

Y/N laughed, feeling at ease now. “I’d love to try sometime, but I don’t think I could keep up with you guys. I’m more of a singer than a dancer.”

Jun nudged Jihoon playfully. “Looks like you’re not the only one who’s found a great collaborator.”

Over the next hour, SEVENTEEN welcomed Y/N into their world, joking and sharing stories. The room was filled with laughter, the group’s usual dynamic enriched by a new presence. Jihoon found himself observing the way Y/N blended in so effortlessly, as if she’d been part of their chaotic family all along.

As the evening went on, Minghao approached Jihoon with a knowing smile. “You look happy,” he said simply.

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, who was now in an animated conversation with DK and Woozi, sharing anecdotes about their vocal warm-ups. A small, content smile played on his lips. “I guess I am.”

A few weeks later, SEVENTEEN was preparing for a group livestream, and Y/N was invited to join as a surprise guest. Jihoon wasn’t thrilled about the idea at first—he preferred to keep things professional—but the rest of the members were insistent.

“Come on, Jihoon,” Seungkwan pleaded. “The fans already love you two together. This will be fun!”

“It’s a great way to promote the song even more,” Mingyu added. “Plus, we want to see how she handles being in one of our chaotic lives.”

Reluctantly, Jihoon agreed, and Y/N arrived at the dorm just as the livestream was about to begin.

“Is this what it’s like before you go live?” Y/N asked, watching the members scramble to adjust cameras, lights, and snacks.

“Always,” Jeonghan said with a smirk. “It’s controlled chaos.”

As the livestream began, fans flooded the chat with comments. The members introduced Y/N, and the reaction was overwhelmingly positive.

“Y/N’s here! OMG!”

“She and Jihoon look so good together!”

“The duet is my favorite song right now!”

Jihoon, who was reading the comments on his phone, shifted uncomfortably but managed a small smile. “The fans seem happy,” he said quietly to Y/N.

“They’re so sweet,” Y/N replied, her eyes scanning the messages.

The members took turns asking her questions, each one more playful than the last.

“Hoshi,” Y/N said, laughing, “why are you asking if I’d join the Performance Team? I just told you I’m not much of a dancer!”

“Because we can teach you,” Hoshi replied with a dramatic flourish.

DK chimed in, “Or you can join the Vocal Team! We need more people who can hit those high notes.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Minghao said. “You’re a solo artist. Stay in your lane before they rope you into our madness.”

The banter continued until Seungkwan leaned into the camera and asked the question everyone wanted to know.

“So, Y/N, how’s it working with Jihoon?”

The chat exploded with reactions.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, who was clearly caught off guard but tried to mask it. She smiled. “Honestly? It’s been amazing. He’s a perfectionist, but in the best way. I’ve learned so much from him.”

Jihoon cleared his throat, his ears tinged pink. “She’s talented, so it wasn’t hard to work with her,” he said simply, earning exaggerated “oohs” from the members.

As the livestream continued, Y/N fit right in with SEVENTEEN’s dynamic, laughing and joking with them like she’d known them for years. Fans in the chat began calling her an “honorary 14th member,” a title that made her laugh but also secretly warmed Jihoon’s heart.

After the livestream ended, the members sprawled across the couch, tired but happy.

“You handled that like a pro,” Mingyu said, tossing a cushion at Y/N.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, catching the cushion. “You guys are a lot of fun. I can see why your fans love you so much.”

As the group began to disperse, Jihoon found himself alone with Y/N for the first time that evening.

“You were great today,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

“Thanks. I was a little nervous, but you all made it easy,” Y/N said, leaning against the back of the couch. “Your members are like family, huh?”

Jihoon nodded. “They are. It’s chaotic, but it’s… home.”

Y/N smiled. “I can tell. You’re lucky to have that.”

There was a comfortable silence between them before Y/N added, “And thanks for letting me be part of all this. I didn’t expect to be welcomed so warmly.”

Jihoon met her gaze, his usual stoicism softening. “You’re part of it now. Whether you like it or not.”

Her laughter filled the room, light and genuine. “I think I like it.”

And for the first time in a long while, Jihoon felt like the walls he’d built around himself were no longer as important.

Over the next few weeks, Y/N continued to bond with SEVENTEEN. She found herself invited to more studio sessions, group meals, and even impromptu dance practices. Despite her initial hesitation about being in the spotlight alongside such a well-known group, their warmth made her feel at home.

Jihoon, on the other hand, started noticing the subtle ways Y/N was changing the dynamic around him. She wasn’t just a collaborator anymore; she was becoming a friend. Someone who could pull him out of his creative tunnel and remind him to enjoy the little moments.

One day, after a long recording session, the group decided to hang out at their dorm. Y/N hesitated when Seungkwan invited her along.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” she said.

“You? Intruding?” Seungkwan scoffed. “You’re practically one of us now. Come on!”

When they arrived at the dorm, chaos quickly ensued. Mingyu was in the kitchen, trying to cook something “special,” while Hoshi and Dino argued over which choreography to show Y/N.

Jihoon sat on the couch, quietly observing the scene. Y/N was laughing with Jeonghan, who was undoubtedly up to some mischief. He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

“You like her, don’t you?” Minghao’s voice pulled Jihoon from his thoughts.

Jihoon turned to him, his expression unreadable. “What are you talking about?”

Minghao smirked. “You’re not as subtle as you think. The way you look at her—it’s different.”

Jihoon sighed, leaning back against the couch. “She’s… easy to be around. That’s all.”

“Sure,” Minghao said, clearly unconvinced. “Just don’t wait too long to figure it out.”

Later that evening, as everyone settled in for a movie, Jihoon found himself sitting next to Y/N. The room was dimly lit, and the sound of laughter and popcorn crunching filled the air.

Y/N leaned closer to whisper, “Thanks for letting me hang out with you guys. I didn’t expect this when we started working on the song.”

Jihoon glanced at her, the soft glow of the TV reflecting in her eyes. “You’re not just here because of the song anymore. They like you. I… like having you around.”

Her eyes widened slightly at his admission, a soft smile forming on her lips. “I like being around you too, Jihoon.”

For a moment, the noise of the room faded, and it was just the two of them, sitting closer than either realized.

“Jihoon! Pass the popcorn!” DK’s voice broke the moment, and Jihoon blinked, quickly grabbing the bowl to hand over.

Y/N chuckled softly, leaning back into the couch. The warmth between them lingered, unspoken but undeniable.

As the weeks turned into months, their bond deepened. Whether it was through shared late-night studio sessions, casual dinners with the group, or quiet moments away from the chaos, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves drawn closer together.

And while neither of them said it out loud, they both knew that what had started as a simple duet had grown into something far more meaningful.

As time passed, Jihoon and Y/N’s bond became increasingly apparent to everyone around them. The other members of SEVENTEEN had a field day teasing Jihoon about it, though they were careful not to push him too far. Y/N, on the other hand, took it all in stride, her easygoing nature making her a natural fit within the group’s chaotic but loving dynamic.

One day, they found themselves in the studio late at night, working on a new song. The other members had already gone home, leaving just the two of them.

Y/N leaned over the desk, scrolling through the playlist Jihoon had prepared for inspiration. “This one’s good,” she said, pointing to a track.

Jihoon nodded, playing it without hesitation. The soft melody filled the room, and they both sat in comfortable silence, letting the music wash over them.

After a while, Y/N broke the quiet. “Do you ever think about what this all means? The music, the fans, everything we do?”

Jihoon looked at her, surprised by the sudden introspection. “All the time,” he admitted. “It’s why I work so hard. I want it to mean something—to leave something behind that matters.”

She smiled softly. “You already do. Your music touches so many people, Jihoon. Including me.”

He felt a warmth spread through him at her words. “What about you? What does it mean to you?”

Y/N took a moment to think before answering. “It’s about connection. Every lyric, every note… it’s a way to reach people, to let them know they’re not alone. I think that’s why I love working with you. You get that.”

For a moment, Jihoon was at a loss for words. Her sincerity, her openness—it was something he wasn’t used to but found himself drawn to.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “I don’t say this often, but… you’ve changed the way I look at things. Working with you—it’s made me realize how much more music can be when it’s shared.”

She looked at him, her eyes shining with gratitude. “You don’t know how much that means to me, coming from you.”

They held each other’s gaze for a moment, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. But before either of them could say more, Jihoon’s phone buzzed, breaking the moment.

The next morning, as they arrived at the practice room, the other members were already there. Hoshi immediately noticed the way Jihoon and Y/N seemed closer than usual.

“Did something happen last night?” he asked, his eyes darting between the two.

“Nothing happened,” Jihoon replied quickly, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, however, laughed. “We were just working on music. Don’t let your imagination run wild.”

The members didn’t buy it, but they let it go—for now.

Later that week, the group had a fan meeting, and Y/N was invited as a special guest to perform their duet live for the first time since its release. The fans erupted into cheers as Jihoon and Y/N took the stage together, their voices blending seamlessly as they sang.

During the performance, Jihoon couldn’t help but glance at Y/N, her presence radiating warmth and confidence. He realized that what had started as a professional partnership had grown into something far more personal.

After the performance, as they stood backstage, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes sparkling. “That was incredible. Thank you for sharing this with me.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before replying. “Thank you… for everything.”

Y/N smiled, her hand lightly brushing his arm. And in that moment, Jihoon knew that whatever this was between them—friendship, partnership, or something more—he wasn’t ready to let it go.

A few days after their fan meeting, the duet performance went viral. Clips of Jihoon and Y/N on stage, their undeniable chemistry and harmonies, flooded social media. Fans couldn’t stop talking about how perfectly their voices blended and how natural their interactions seemed.

The buzz didn’t go unnoticed by SEVENTEEN.

“Have you seen the comments?” Seungkwan said, shoving his phone in front of Jihoon’s face during a break in practice.

Jihoon glanced at the screen, where fans had flooded the comments section with messages like:

“They’re perfect together!”

“Jihoon and Y/N need to release a whole album together!”

“Am I the only one who feels like there’s more to their story?”

Jihoon sighed, pushing the phone away. “It’s just the fans. They like to speculate.”

“But they’re not wrong,” Mingyu chimed in with a sly grin.

“Not you too,” Jihoon groaned.

That evening, Y/N visited the dorm for what was supposed to be a casual hangout. As usual, the members couldn’t help but stir the pot.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan started, leaning casually against the couch, “what’s it like being the most shipped person with Jihoon right now?”

Y/N nearly choked on her drink. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Hoshi said, joining in. “The fans are calling you the ‘power duo.’ Some are even saying you’re a better fit than us!”

“Don’t listen to them,” Jihoon muttered, his ears turning pink.

Y/N, recovering from her initial shock, laughed. “Well, I guess it’s a compliment? I mean, Jihoon is an incredible artist, so I’m honored.”

The room erupted in exaggerated “oohs,” with Seungkwan dramatically fanning Jihoon. “Did you hear that? She called you incredible!”

Jihoon buried his face in his hands, muttering, “Why do I even let you all talk?”

Despite the teasing, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride at Y/N’s words. She always had a way of making him feel seen—not just as an artist but as a person.

Later that night, after everyone had settled down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone on the dorm balcony, overlooking the city lights.

“It’s been a wild night, huh?” Y/N said, leaning against the railing.

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the skyline. “Yeah. I didn’t expect any of this when we started working together.”

“Me neither,” she admitted. “But I’m glad it happened. I’ve learned so much—not just about music but about myself.”

Jihoon glanced at her, his expression softening. “You’ve changed a lot of things for me, too. I didn’t realize how much I needed someone to remind me why I love what I do.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart skipping a beat at the vulnerability in his voice. “Jihoon… I—”

Before she could finish, the balcony door slid open, and Mingyu stuck his head out. “Hey, are you two having a moment? Because we’ve got snacks inside.”

Y/N burst out laughing, while Jihoon groaned. “You have the worst timing, Mingyu.”

Mingyu grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.”

As the night went on, the teasing and camaraderie continued, but something had shifted between Jihoon and Y/N. Though unspoken, there was an understanding growing between them—one that neither was ready to confront just yet but couldn’t deny any longer.

And as Jihoon watched Y/N laughing with his members, he couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something he’d been searching for without even realizing it.

The weeks passed, and Jihoon found himself unable to shake the feeling that had been slowly growing inside him. Every time Y/N smiled, every time their eyes met during a quiet moment, something in his chest fluttered. He had always been someone who let his music speak for him, but this time, it wasn’t enough just to express himself through lyrics. He needed to tell her, to be vulnerable in a way he hadn’t been with anyone before.

But how?

It was during a late-night studio session, after everyone else had left for the day, that Jihoon decided to do something about it. He had spent hours working on the song, tweaking the melody, perfecting the lyrics, and now it was ready.

The track wasn’t like anything he had made before. It was softer, more personal, and every note seemed to come straight from his heart. He had poured his feelings into it, capturing the emotions that he couldn’t say out loud. It was a love song. And the subject of it? None other than Y/N.

The next day, Jihoon invited Y/N to the studio under the guise of working on new material. She arrived, always eager to help or collaborate, but there was something different about Jihoon’s demeanor that caught her attention.

“What’s going on?” she asked as she walked into the studio. “You’ve been acting a little… off lately.”

Jihoon avoided her gaze, fiddling with the soundboard for a moment. “I… I have something I want to play for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, curious. “A new song?”

He nodded, his throat tightening slightly. “Yeah. But it’s… different.”

Y/N walked over to him and sat down, her eyes fixed on him. “I’m all ears, Jihoon.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment longer before hitting play. The soft, melodic intro filled the room, and Y/N was immediately drawn into the haunting beauty of the song. As the lyrics began, she felt a stirring in her chest. The song felt… personal. Deeply personal.

She listened intently, her heart racing as the chorus hit, and Jihoon’s voice filled the space:

“I didn’t know how to say it, but now I know it’s true, Every moment with you feels like I’ve found something new. In the silence, in the music, in the things I never said, I’m falling for you, I’m falling for you, And I can’t take it back.”

The song went on, each lyric pulling Y/N deeper into the emotions Jihoon had poured into it. By the end, the room was thick with the unspoken words hanging in the air. The music faded, and for a few moments, there was silence.

Y/N slowly turned to look at Jihoon, her eyes wide with realization. “Jihoon… that song…”

He swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s for you.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She had known there was something between them, something that had grown over time, but hearing him express it so clearly, through music, felt like a confession she hadn’t expected.

“Jihoon…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

He finally met her gaze, his eyes vulnerable in a way she had never seen before. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, trying to tell myself I was just… overthinking. But every time you’re near, every time you smile, it feels like something more. I think… I think I’ve fallen for you, Y/N. And I couldn’t hide it anymore. Not after writing this song for you.”

Y/N’s heart raced as she processed his words, her own emotions swirling within her. She had felt it too—the connection, the way everything felt more meaningful when they were together. But hearing him say it out loud made it all so real.

She took a step closer, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve been feeling the same way, Jihoon.”

His eyes widened, and he took a step toward her as well. “Really?”

She nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve been too afraid to admit it, but… I’ve been falling for you, too. Maybe I didn’t want to admit it because I didn’t know if you felt the same, but… I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

The tension that had built between them in the past few months suddenly lifted. Jihoon, overcome with relief and happiness, took her hand gently.

“Then… do you think we can figure this out together?” he asked softly.

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling. “I’d like that very much.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything else. The weight of the confession hung in the air, but the silence felt comfortable, like a shared understanding.

Jihoon squeezed her hand gently. “I don’t know what comes next, but I want to find out with you.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

And as they stood there, hand in hand, Jihoon knew that this song, the one that had started as a way to express his feelings, was just the beginning of a new chapter for them both.

For a few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N managed to keep their budding relationship under wraps. They weren’t intentionally hiding it, but neither of them was ready to face the whirlwind of teasing that would inevitably come from SEVENTEEN.

However, secrets rarely lasted long in a group as close-knit and nosy as SEVENTEEN.

It all started during a practice session. Jihoon had left his phone on the bench while the group worked through choreography, and a text from Y/N popped up on the screen:

Y/N: Can’t wait to see you tonight ❤️

Seungkwan, ever the observant one, noticed the notification first. “Oh? Hyung, care to explain this?” he asked, holding up the phone with a mischievous grin.

Jihoon froze mid-step, his face instantly turning crimson. “Give me that!” he snapped, rushing over to grab the phone.

But it was too late. Seungkwan had already shared the discovery with Hoshi and Jeonghan, who were now looking at Jihoon with matching expressions of glee.

“‘Can’t wait to see you tonight?’” Jeonghan teased, his tone dripping with mock innocence. “Jihoon, do you have plans we should know about?”

The rest of the group quickly caught on, gathering around as Jihoon struggled to come up with an excuse.

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, shoving his phone into his pocket.

“Nothing?” Hoshi said, raising an eyebrow. “Sounds like something to me.”

“It’s Y/N, isn’t it?” Mingyu blurted out. The room went silent for a moment as everyone processed the possibility.

Jihoon sighed, realizing there was no escape. “Fine. Yes. It’s Y/N. We’re… dating.”

The room erupted into chaos.

“What?!” Seungkwan exclaimed, looking both shocked and delighted. “When did this happen?”

“Jihoon, you sly fox!” Jeonghan said, clapping him on the back.

“You’re dating Y/N, and you didn’t tell us?” Dino pouted. “I thought we were close!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, okay? It’s still new, and we didn’t want any unnecessary attention.”

Joshua, ever the voice of reason, stepped in. “Guys, let’s not overwhelm him. It’s Jihoon, after all. This must’ve taken a lot for him to admit.”

“Yeah,” DK added, grinning. “But seriously, Hyung, we’re happy for you. Y/N’s great.”

“She’s not just great,” Minghao said thoughtfully. “She fits in with us, and most importantly, she brings out a side of you we don’t see often. It’s nice.”

Jihoon looked around at his members, their teasing replaced with genuine support, and felt a wave of relief. “Thanks, guys. Just… keep it low-key, okay? We’re not ready for everyone to know yet.”

The group collectively agreed, though Jihoon wasn’t sure he trusted their definition of “low-key.”

That evening, Jihoon met Y/N at their usual spot in the studio. She could tell something was different as soon as he walked in.

“What happened?” she asked, tilting her head.

“They know,” Jihoon said, sitting beside her.

“Who knows?”

“SEVENTEEN,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh no. How bad was it?”

Jihoon chuckled despite himself. “About as chaotic as you’d expect. But… they’re happy for us. They promised to keep it a secret, though I don’t know how long that’ll last.”

Y/N smiled, reaching over to take his hand. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen. They’re your family, Jihoon. And honestly, I don’t mind if they know. I like being part of your world.”

Jihoon squeezed her hand, his heart swelling at her words. “You’re more than just part of it, Y/N. You’ve made it better.”

The next day, when Y/N visited the dorm for dinner, the teasing resumed, but it was all in good fun.

“So, Y/N,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile, “what’s it like dating our Jihoon? Is he as romantic as he is in his songs?”

Y/N laughed, glancing at Jihoon, who looked like he wanted to disappear. “He’s perfect,” she said simply, her sincerity making Jihoon’s face flush even more.

The room erupted into cheers and playful jabs, but beneath the chaos, there was a palpable warmth. SEVENTEEN was more than a group—they were a family. And now, Y/N was part of that family, too.

As the night wore on, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful. For his members, for their unwavering support, and most of all, for Y/N, who had somehow become the piece he hadn’t realized was missing from his life.

A few weeks after SEVENTEEN’s comeback promotions wrapped up, Jihoon surprised fans with the announcement of a solo track, titled “Only for You.” The anticipation was palpable, especially after fans connected the dots between the mysterious teasers and Jihoon’s recent duet with Y/N.

When the song finally dropped, it was an instant hit. A tender and emotional ballad, the lyrics told the story of someone realizing they’ve found the one person who completes them. Jihoon’s heartfelt delivery struck a chord with listeners, but eagle-eyed fans noticed something peculiar.

The release coincided with a few subtle interactions between Jihoon and Y/N on social media. Comments like:

“This song feels so personal… is it inspired by someone special?”

“The vibe reminds me of Jihoon and Y/N’s duet. Are we missing something?”

“Wait a second… some of these lyrics feel like they match things Y/N said in interviews!”

The speculation ramped up a notch when, only a few days later, Y/N teased her own solo track, “Echo of You.”

When Y/N’s song dropped, fans were quick to notice that it felt like a reply to Jihoon’s. While Jihoon’s track spoke of falling for someone who brought light into his life, Y/N’s lyrics told the story of being seen and loved for who she truly was.

Lines like:

“I thought I was just a shadow, but your light made me shine.”

“Every melody you wrote felt like a message just for me.”

Fans flooded social media with theories.

“Wait, these songs feel connected. Are they… about each other?”

“Woozi's ‘Only for You’ and Y/N’s ‘Echo of You’ are like two sides of the same love story.”

“If this is real, I’ll cry. They’re perfect together!”

The speculation reached its peak when a fan-made mashup of the two songs went viral, seamlessly blending the tracks into a duet that felt like it was meant to be.

Back at SEVENTEEN’s dorm, the members couldn’t help but join the buzz.

“So,” Seungkwan started, holding up his phone, “the fans are catching on.”

Jihoon groaned, slumping onto the couch. “I knew this would happen.”

“I mean, they’re not wrong,” Jeonghan said, smirking. “The songs do sound like they’re talking to each other.”

Y/N, who had been invited over for dinner, sat beside Jihoon, trying (and failing) to suppress her laughter. “It’s kind of impressive how quickly they picked up on it.”

Joshua leaned forward, grinning. “Are you two going to say anything? Or just let the fans go wild with their theories?”

Jihoon glanced at Y/N, his expression thoughtful. “What do you think?” he asked her.

Y/N smiled softly. “I don’t mind letting them wonder for now. I like that the songs are just ours, even if people are curious.”

The members all groaned in mock frustration.

“You’re both too private for your own good,” Mingyu teased. “Just admit it already and save us the headache!”

“Admit what?” Jihoon shot back, feigning innocence.

“That you two are the main characters in the greatest musical love story ever told,” Hoshi declared dramatically, earning laughter from the group.

Despite the teasing, Jihoon and Y/N decided to keep quiet, letting their music speak for them. The buzz around their songs only grew, with both tracks climbing the charts and becoming fan favorites.

During a live Q&A, Jihoon was inevitably asked about the inspiration for “Only for You.”

“It’s about someone who changed the way I see the world,” he said simply, his expression soft.

When Y/N was asked a similar question about “Echo of You,” she smiled knowingly. “It’s a song about gratitude and love—for someone who helped me realize my worth.”

The fans didn’t need anything more. To them, the connection between the songs—and their creators—was obvious.

One evening, as they sat together in Jihoon’s studio, Y/N turned to him with a playful smile. “So, do you think they’ve figured it out yet?”

Jihoon chuckled, shaking his head. “I think they know. They’re just waiting for us to say it out loud.”

“And when do you think we should?” she asked, tilting her head.

Jihoon thought for a moment before replying, his voice warm. “Maybe someday. But for now, I like that the songs tell our story. It feels… special.”

Y/N leaned closer, her hand resting on his. “I like that too.”

The weeks following the dual song releases were a whirlwind. Both tracks dominated the charts, and the fan theories only grew more elaborate. Mashups, fan edits, and endless analysis filled the internet, with fans piecing together subtle interactions and shared moments.

Despite their best efforts to stay under the radar, the buzz became too loud to ignore. SEVENTEEN’s members didn’t make it any easier, constantly dropping playful hints during interviews and live streams.

One day, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves at a joint event where multiple HYBE artists were present. It was a casual, live-streamed Q&A session, and the energy in the room was lively. Fans flooded the chat with questions about collaborations, their music, and, of course, the connection between Jihoon’s and Y/N’s songs.

The host, clearly aware of the buzz, decided to address the elephant in the room.

“So, Woozi-shi and Y/N-shi,” they began, a mischievous glint in their eye. “The fans have been talking nonstop about how your songs seem… connected. Care to comment?”

Jihoon, caught off guard, glanced at Y/N. She met his gaze with a small, encouraging smile, her eyes silently asking, Are you ready?

He hesitated for a moment before leaning into the mic. “Well,” he started, his voice calm but tinged with nervousness, “the fans aren’t wrong. The songs are connected.”

The room fell silent for a moment, everyone—including the other artists—hanging on his every word.

Y/N chimed in, her tone light but honest. “We didn’t plan for it to be a big mystery. We just wrote from our hearts. And, well… our hearts were in the same place.”

The host’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, are you saying—”

Jihoon nodded, cutting them off gently. “Y/N and I… we’re together. And the songs were our way of telling that story without saying it outright.”

The room erupted into applause, cheers, and a few playful whistles from SEVENTEEN and the other HYBE artists. The fans watching the live stream went wild, the chat filling with messages like:

“I KNEW IT!”

“This is the best plot twist ever!”

“Our musical power couple!”

Later that evening, Jihoon and Y/N sat together backstage, scrolling through the flood of messages on social media.

“Looks like the fans are taking it well,” Y/N said, laughing as she read a particularly enthusiastic comment.

Jihoon smiled, his shoulders relaxing for the first time in weeks. “I guess I shouldn’t have worried so much. They seem… happy for us.”

Y/N leaned her head on his shoulder. “Of course they are. We’ve been honest in the best way we know how—through our music.”

Jihoon wrapped an arm around her, his voice soft. “I’m glad we finally said it. It feels good not to hide anymore.”

She looked up at him, her eyes shining. “Me too.”

As the weeks passed, their relationship became a beloved story among fans. Jihoon and Y/N didn’t share much beyond their music and occasional glimpses of their dynamic, but their authenticity resonated with everyone.

Their next collaboration—a duet explicitly written as a continuation of their story—became one of the most anticipated releases of the year, cementing their status as not just two incredible artists but as a couple who had found love in the heart of their shared passion.

And as Jihoon often said in interviews, with a small, knowing smile: “It all started with a song.”

The announcement of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship didn’t just excite fans; it gave SEVENTEEN endless new material to tease their usually reserved member. And, of course, they weren’t going to let the opportunity go to waste during their next content shoot.

The group was filming an episode of their popular variety show, “GOING SEVENTEEN,” and the theme for the day was a mock courtroom trial where members had to defend themselves against outrageous (and often ridiculous) accusations.

As the camera rolled, Jeonghan smirked, ready to unleash chaos. “Today, I bring a serious accusation against Jihoon,” he began, standing dramatically as the self-appointed prosecutor.

Jihoon, sitting at the “defendant’s” table, raised an eyebrow. “What now?”

Jeonghan held up an imaginary piece of paper, squinting at it for effect. “Jihoon, you’ve been accused of… secretly writing love songs instead of working on group projects. How do you plead?”

The room erupted in laughter, with Seungkwan clapping his hands. “Guilty! We all know it’s true!”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes!” Hoshi chimed in, his grin practically splitting his face. “We’ve all noticed you humming random melodies lately. Are those for us, or… someone else?”

The teasing didn’t stop there. As the trial continued, the members took turns “presenting evidence.”

Mingyu dramatically placed a notebook on the table. “Exhibit A: Jihoon’s lyric book. Do we need to open it to find the word ‘Y/N’ written a hundred times?”

Dino jumped in, mimicking an investigator. “Exhibit B: The way Jihoon smiles at his phone during breaks. Suspicious behavior if you ask me.”

Even the usually quiet Wonwoo joined in. “Exhibit C: The recent duet with Y/N. We all heard it. It’s basically a confession set to music.”

By this point, Jihoon’s face was a deep shade of red, though he couldn’t help but chuckle.

During a break in filming, Joshua leaned over to Jihoon. “You know, they’re only teasing because they’re happy for you, right?”

“I know,” Jihoon replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. “But they’re relentless.”

“Hey, it’s good content,” Joshua said with a wink. “The fans will love it.”

Later in the shoot, the tables turned when it was Jihoon’s chance to act as the judge. He banged the gavel dramatically. “I have an accusation of my own,” he announced, his tone firm but playful.

The members gasped in mock horror.

“I accuse SEVENTEEN of being the nosiest group in the industry,” Jihoon declared, pointing at them one by one. “Always prying, always teasing. How do you plead?”

“Guilty!” Seungkwan shouted, raising his hands in surrender. “But we do it out of love!”

Hoshi stood up, grinning. “Your Honor, I’d like to counter-accuse. Jihoon is guilty of smiling more these days. We all know the reason why.”

The room burst into laughter once again, and Jihoon couldn’t help but shake his head, a reluctant smile on his face.

As the shoot wrapped up, the director praised the group for their energy and humor. The episode, once edited, was full of golden moments that had fans laughing and cooing over SEVENTEEN’s antics.

And while Jihoon might have been the butt of the jokes, the camaraderie and genuine affection from his members shone through.

In the comments section of the uploaded episode, fans were quick to notice the playful dynamic:

“SEVENTEEN teasing Jihoon about Y/N is peak family energy!”

“Jihoon trying to act annoyed but secretly loving it is so cute.”

“The way they all support him in their own chaotic way makes me emotional.”

That evening, as Jihoon returned to his studio, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N:

Y/N: Saw the episode preview. They’re so obvious, lol.

Jihoon smiled, typing back:

Jihoon: They’re impossible. But at least they’re on our side.

Y/N: Always. And so am I.

As he leaned back in his chair, Jihoon couldn’t help but feel grateful—not just for Y/N, but for the family he’d found in SEVENTEEN.

Even if they never let him live it down.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

Melodies of Us || Lee Jihoon

Pairing: Producer-Idol Woozi x Pianist Reader Genre: Fluff, Idol romance, Childhood crush Summary: 'Melodies of Us' follows Woozi, a seventeen member, a music producer, and Y/N, a pianist, as they reconnect after years apart. Despite facing public scrutiny and the pressures of fame, their love grows stronger. After a brief separation to navigate the challenges of their careers, they reunite, learning to trust and support each other through the highs and lows, with music always being the backdrop of their shared journey. Authors note: Hi everyone! I’ve poured my heart into writing this story, inspired by the Woozi video one of you recommended. Your love and support mean the world to me, so please give it a lot of love and share your thoughts in the comments. Your feedback truly inspires me to keep creating and improving. I’d love to know what you think and hear your favorite moments from the story! Love you guys!!!

Shoutout to @am-injel for recommending the video

If you have any requests for any member or any other groups feel free to do so

The small music room at the edge of the middle school was a hidden corner where Jihoon often escaped. It wasn’t because he was shy—though he wasn’t the loudest kid in the class—but because he liked the calmness. Playing the piano, even just practicing scales, was his way of unwinding.

One afternoon, as he pushed the door open, he paused. Someone was already there.

It was Y/N.

She sat on the wobbly piano bench, poking at the keys in a rhythm that sounded more like an experiment than a song. Her uniform sleeves were rolled up, her bag on the floor, and her focus entirely on the instrument. Jihoon recognized her immediately—she was a year ahead, a popular "noona" everyone seemed to know.

“Noona?” Jihoon said hesitantly.

Y/N turned, surprised. “Oh! I didn’t know anyone else came here.”

Y/N tilted her head, “You know, I’ve seen you around. You’re Jihoon, right? The guy who’s always with his guitar.”

He nodded, surprised she even remembered his name. “Yeah… That’s me.”

Jihoon hesitated. “It’s usually empty.” He stepped inside, looking at her curiously. “Do you play?”

“Not really,” Y/N admitted with a small laugh. “I just wanted to try it. But…” She pressed a few keys randomly. “I don’t think I’m any good.”

Jihoon moved closer, his fingers twitching with the urge to correct her posture. “You’re pressing too hard,” he said. “Here.”

Without waiting for permission, he leaned down slightly, guiding her fingers to the correct placement. Y/N followed his instruction, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Like this?” she asked.

Jihoon nodded. “Yeah, noona. That’s better.”

She grinned at him. “You’re good at this, Jihoon. Do you come here often?”

“Almost every day,” he said quietly, still a bit shy under her bright gaze.

“Then maybe you can teach me?” she asked, her voice teasing but warm.

He blinked, caught off guard. “Uh... if you want.”

A few weeks later, Jihoon was standing on the baseball field, glove in hand.

Jihoon caught a glimpse of Y/N standing near the sidelines. She wasn’t supposed to be there—it was a middle school practice, after all—but she was watching him, waving with a wide smile.

“Noona’s here?” Jihoon muttered under his breath, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“Let’s go, Jihoon!” Y/N called, cupping her hands around her mouth. “Show them what you’ve got!”

The teasing tone in her voice made him blush, with her watching, he couldn’t afford to mess up.

The game was intense, and Jihoon did his best to focus, blocking out the awkward feeling of Y/N watching him. He managed to catch the ball each time, despite his initial hesitation.

When practice ended, Jihoon walked over to her, brushing dirt off his uniform. “What are you doing here, noona?”

“I was curious,” she said with a shrug. “And I wanted to see you play.”

“Me?” Jihoon asked, surprised.

“Well, yeah. I didn’t know you were this good at baseball too.” Her grin was wide and sincere.

Jihoon scratched the back of his neck, feeling warmth creep up his face. “I’m not that good...”

“You are,” Y/N said, leaning forward slightly. “You just don’t give yourself enough credit.”

That evening, as Jihoon walked home, he couldn’t stop replaying the sound of her laughter and the way she’d called his name from the sidelines. For a boy who kept most things to himself, her presence was like a bright light in his quiet world.

And though he wouldn’t say it out loud, he hoped Y/N would show up again—at the piano, at the field, or anywhere else he could catch her smile.

A few days after the baseball game, Jihoon returned to the music room after school. He expected the usual silence, but when he opened the door, Y/N was already there. She sat on the piano bench, her fingers lightly brushing the keys, as if she were waiting for him.

“Noona,” Jihoon said, surprised. “You’re here again?”

Y/N looked up, her smile brightening the room. “Of course! I figured my teacher might show up, so I didn’t want to miss the chance to learn.”

Jihoon flushed. “I’m not your teacher…”

“Sure you are,” she teased, patting the bench beside her. “Come on. Show me something new.”

He hesitated before sitting down, careful to leave a bit of space between them. “Did you practice what I showed you last time?”

Y/N nodded enthusiastically, though the sheepish look on her face told him otherwise. “Kind of? But I think I need a lot more practice. You’re way better at this.”

Jihoon chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Okay, noona. Let’s try again.”

As he guided her through the basics, he couldn’t help but notice how close they were. Her laughter filled the room whenever she hit the wrong key, and her determination to get it right made him smile. She wasn’t like anyone he’d met before—confident yet patient, teasing yet kind.

A week later, Y/N showed up at another one of Jihoon’s baseball practices.

“Are you going to be at every game now?” Jihoon asked as he approached her during a water break.

“Maybe,” she said with a playful shrug. “I like watching you play. It’s fun seeing you so focused.”

Jihoon rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “Noona, you’re embarrassing me.”

“That’s my job,” Y/N said, grinning.

Jihoon glanced at his teammates, who were watching the interaction with curious smirks. He could already hear the teasing they’d throw at him later, but for some reason, he didn’t mind.

“Fine,” Jihoon said, trying to sound nonchalant. “But don’t cheer too loud next time.”

“No promises,” she replied, sticking out her tongue.

As spring turned into summer, Y/N and Jihoon began spending more time together. She would wait for him after practice, chatting about her day as they walked home. Sometimes, they stopped by the corner store to share ice cream, sitting on the curb as the sun dipped below the horizon.

One evening, after a particularly long practice, Jihoon and Y/N sat on the school steps, watching the sky turn shades of orange and pink.

“Jihoon,” Y/N said suddenly, her voice softer than usual.

“Hmm?” he murmured, resting his chin on his knees.

“Do you ever think about what you want to do when you grow up?”

He thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe something with music. Or baseball. I haven’t really decided.”

She smiled, tilting her head to look at him. “I think you’ll be great at whatever you choose. You’re the kind of person who works hard for what they want.”

Jihoon turned his head, surprised by her words. “You really think so?”

“Of course,” she said, bumping his shoulder lightly with hers. “You’re pretty amazing, Jihoon.”

His face grew warm, and he looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “Thanks, noona.”

As they sat there in the fading light, Jihoon realized something: he didn’t just enjoy spending time with Y/N—he looked forward to it. Her presence made the quiet moments brighter and the loud ones more bearable.

Summer break had arrived, and with it came long, lazy days and the warmth of the sun. Jihoon thought it would mean fewer chances to see Y/N, but she surprised him one morning by showing up at the school baseball field during practice.

“Noona, don’t you have anything better to do?” Jihoon called out as she leaned against the fence, waving at him.

“Nope,” she said cheerfully. “I’m on summer break too, you know. And besides…” She grinned. “You’re the most entertaining thing around here.”

Jihoon shook his head, turning back to the field. He tried to focus on practice, but he could feel her eyes on him the whole time. When the coach finally called for a break, Jihoon jogged over to where she was sitting on the bleachers.

“Did you come all the way here just to watch me?” he asked, catching his breath.

“Maybe,” Y/N teased, holding up a bottle of water. “Here, you look like you need this.”

“Thanks,” Jihoon said, taking it. He hesitated before adding, “You didn’t have to come, though.”

“I wanted to,” she said simply, her tone sincere.

Jihoon didn’t know how to respond to that. He wasn’t used to people going out of their way for him.

Later that week, Y/N invited Jihoon to join her at the park. It was a warm afternoon, and they found a spot under the shade of a large tree. Y/N had brought a picnic blanket and snacks, and Jihoon had brought his baseball glove, just in case.

“Noona, you really don’t get tired of hanging out with me?” Jihoon asked as he tossed a baseball into the air and caught it.

“Nope,” she said, lying on her back and looking up at the sky. “Why? Are you tired of me?”

“No!” Jihoon blurted out, sitting up straighter. “I mean… no, I’m not.”

Y/N laughed, sitting up and leaning her chin on her knees. “You’re fun to be around, Jihoon. Even if you’re quiet.”

“I’m not that fun,” he muttered, looking down at the ball in his hands.

“You don’t see it, do you?” she said, her voice softer now. “You’re hardworking, talented, and you care about the things that matter to you. That’s why I like spending time with you.”

Jihoon’s heart skipped a beat. He glanced at her, her expression warm and sincere, and felt the familiar flutter in his chest.

“Thanks, noona,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied, smiling brightly.

As the summer days passed, Jihoon found himself growing more and more comfortable around Y/N. She became a constant presence in his life, showing up to his practices, sharing snacks at the park, and even challenging him to board games at her house.

But one evening, as they sat on the swings at the park, Jihoon couldn’t keep the question inside anymore.

“Noona,” he began, his voice hesitant.

“Yeah?” Y/N replied, gently swaying back and forth.

“Why do you spend so much time with me?” he asked, his eyes fixed on the ground.

She stopped swinging and looked at him, her expression thoughtful. “Because I like being around you, Jihoon. You’re different from everyone else. You’re honest, and you make me feel… calm.”

“Calm?” Jihoon repeated, finally looking up at her.

“Yeah,” she said with a soft laugh. “Like I can just be myself when I’m with you. No pretending, no pressure. Just… me.”

Jihoon didn’t know what to say to that. His chest felt tight, and his hands gripped the chains of the swing a little harder.

“You’re special to me, Jihoon,” Y/N added, her voice gentle.

Jihoon’s breath caught. He wanted to say something back, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, he nodded, hoping she could see how much her words meant to him.

That night, as Jihoon lay in bed staring at the ceiling, he thought about Y/N’s smile, her laughter, and the way she made the world feel just a little bit brighter.

For the first time, he let himself admit what he’d been feeling all along.

He liked her.

The news came unexpectedly.

Jihoon had always been good at music and baseball, but he never thought those talents would lead to something bigger. So when a company scout came to his school after hearing about his musical abilities and offered him a chance to audition as a trainee, Jihoon was stunned.

“Seoul?” he repeated, sitting across from his parents at the dinner table. “They want me to move to Seoul?”

His mother nodded, her expression a mix of pride and worry. “It’s a big opportunity, Jihoon. But it’s also a big decision. Are you sure this is what you want?”

Jihoon hesitated. He thought about his small town, his school, his friends. And then, he thought about Y/N.

“I’ll think about it,” he said quietly, retreating to his room.

The next day, Jihoon found himself in the music room after school, nervously tapping his fingers against the piano keys. He had texted Y/N to meet him there, and now he was waiting, unsure of how to tell her.

When Y/N walked in, she immediately noticed his tense posture. “Jihoon, what’s wrong?”

He looked up, his heart sinking at the concern in her eyes. “Noona, I have something to tell you.”

“Okay,” she said, sitting down beside him on the bench. “What is it?”

“I got an offer,” Jihoon said, his voice barely above a whisper. “To go to Seoul. To become a trainee at a company.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “What? Jihoon, that’s amazing!”

He glanced at her, surprised. “You think so?”

“Of course!” she said, grabbing his hand without thinking. “This is huge, Jihoon. You’re so talented. They’d be lucky to have you.”

“But…” Jihoon hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. “It means I’d have to leave. I wouldn’t be here anymore.”

Y/N’s excitement faltered, and for a moment, there was silence.

“When would you leave?” she asked softly.

“Next month,” he admitted. “If I decide to go.”

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions. “Jihoon, I won’t lie—it’ll be hard not having you here. But this is your dream, isn’t it?”

Jihoon nodded slowly. “I think so. But I don’t want to leave you, noona.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced a smile. “Jihoon, you can’t let that stop you. You’re going to do amazing things, and I’ll always be here cheering for you, no matter where you are.”

He looked up at her, his eyes glistening. “Promise?”

“Promise,” she said, holding out her pinky.

Jihoon hesitated before linking his pinky with hers. “I’ll miss you, noona.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she said softly.

The day Jihoon left for Seoul was bittersweet. His parents dropped him off at the train station, and Y/N was there, standing a little apart from the crowd.

Jihoon walked over to her, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Noona,” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“Jihoon,” she replied, her smile wavering.

For a moment, they just stood there, neither wanting to say goodbye. Finally, Y/N reached out and pulled him into a hug.

“Work hard,” she whispered. “And don’t forget to eat. You’re terrible at remembering that.”

Jihoon chuckled, though it sounded more like a sob. “I won’t forget.”

She pulled back, her hands resting on his shoulders. “You’re going to be great, Jihoon. I believe in you.”

“Thank you, noona,” he said, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat.

As the train pulled into the station, Jihoon reluctantly let go of her and stepped onto the platform. He turned back one last time, waving as the train doors closed.

Y/N waved back, her smile bright even as tears rolled down her cheeks.

In Seoul, Jihoon threw himself into training. The days were long, the competition fierce, and the pressure overwhelming. But every time he felt like giving up, he thought about Y/N’s smile, her encouragement, and the promise they had made.

He worked harder, knowing she was rooting for him from afar.

Years passed, and Jihoon’s dream of becoming a successful musician became a reality. After years of hard training, countless auditions, and endless performances, he had finally made it. As a member of the group that was taking the world by storm, his name was now known, his face recognized, and his music appreciated.

But despite the fame and the accolades, something was missing.

It had been years since he last saw Y/N. The memory of her smile, the sound of her laughter, and the warmth of her words always lingered in his mind. And so, one cold winter evening, Jihoon made a decision.

He would go back to his hometown, the place where it all began—the place where he had first met Y/N, the place that felt both familiar and distant now.

Jihoon stood in front of his old school, the place where he had once walked the halls as a shy, aspiring student. The building was quieter now, its paint chipped, and the playground that once hosted their after-school games seemed smaller than he remembered. But everything still felt... comforting.

He walked through the gates, a rush of memories flooding his mind. He could almost hear the sound of the baseball hitting the bat, the feel of the piano keys beneath his fingers. And then, he remembered Y/N.

He thought he would find her here, that she might still be in this place, still waiting to see him, just like he had always imagined.

With each step, his heart beat faster, hope rising in his chest. Maybe she was still living in the same neighborhood, or perhaps she had stayed in touch with some of their old friends.

But when he asked around, no one seemed to know where she was.

“I think she moved a while ago,” one of his old classmates said when Jihoon mentioned Y/N. “She went to college in Seoul, and after that, I’m not sure.”

Jihoon’s heart sank. He had hoped, even just for a moment, that he would find her here, in the place where it all started. He wandered around the familiar streets, searching for any trace of her.

But there was nothing.

The next day, Jihoon stood in front of the old piano at his middle school, his fingers lightly brushing the keys. The room was empty now, no longer the sanctuary it once was. It felt so different without Y/N’s presence, without her laughter echoing through the space.

“I thought I would find you here,” Jihoon whispered to no one in particular, his voice lost in the quiet of the room.

He closed his eyes, thinking back to those days when everything was simpler, when Y/N had been the one person who had made him feel like he wasn’t alone in the world.

He never expected fame to come so quickly, or for it to be so isolating. But as he stood in that quiet music room, Jihoon realized something: No matter how much time passed, no matter how many accomplishments he achieved, there was one thing he could never replace.

The feeling of being understood.

The warmth of her presence.

He missed her more than he had ever realized.

The following days were a blur. Jihoon returned to Seoul, unable to shake the emptiness that lingered in his chest. He threw himself into his work, but it was harder than ever to focus. His thoughts kept drifting back to the girl he had left behind—the girl who had believed in him before anyone else had.

He wondered if she still thought about him.

Did she remember their pinky promise?

The thought that maybe she had forgotten him haunted him, but he couldn’t let go of the hope that their paths might cross again one day.

Months later, Jihoon was at a variety show, doing an interview with his members. They were talking about their past, their training days, and their dreams. When it came time for Jihoon to answer a question, the host asked, “Jihoon, you’ve come a long way from your hometown. Is there anyone there you still keep in touch with?”

Jihoon paused, the question catching him off guard. He hadn’t really talked about Y/N in years. His throat tightened as he thought about her.

“I… I had a friend,” he began, his voice soft. “She was someone who really believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. She was always there, even when I didn’t realize it.”

The other members looked at him curiously, but Jihoon didn’t continue. He didn’t need to explain everything. His mind had already drifted back to that quiet music room, the park, the baseball field—every place where Y/N had once been.

He smiled, even though there was a bittersweet ache in his chest. He might not have found her in his hometown, but he knew that no matter where she was now, she would always be a part of who he had become.

Months had passed the group’s schedule was packed, but one evening, Jihoon’s mind was still on the past as he attended a musical performance with Hoshi.

It had been an impromptu decision—Hoshi had mentioned wanting to go see a musical, and Jihoon, needing a break from his usual routine, agreed to tag along. It wasn’t something he had planned on, but he thought a night out might give him a chance to clear his mind.

The theater was elegant, the grand chandelier casting soft light over the crowded room as they found their seats. Jihoon’s thoughts wandered during the first act, but something shifted when the curtain rose for the second.

On stage, bathed in a spotlight, sat a familiar figure—her fingers dancing over the keys of a grand piano. It was a moment of pure magic, the soft music filling the room and touching something deep within Jihoon’s heart. He blinked, certain that his mind was playing tricks on him.

But when she turned slightly, her face illuminated by the stage lights, Jihoon’s heart skipped a beat.

It was Y/N.

He sat there, frozen, his breath catching in his chest. She was performing, and she was incredible. Her fingers moved with such grace, every note she played perfectly in sync with the orchestra behind her. It was clear she had been practicing, honing her skill all these years.

Hoshi nudged him with a grin. “Jihoon, are you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Jihoon barely heard him. His eyes were locked on Y/N, who was lost in her music, oblivious to the audience. The whole room seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of the piano and the girl he had once known.

After the performance, Jihoon couldn’t sit still. He had to see her, talk to her, just to know that she was real, that she was still out there, living her dream.

As the crowd began to disperse, Jihoon and Hoshi made their way backstage, where they were told to wait for the performers. Jihoon paced nervously, unsure of what to say. What if Y/N had changed? What if she didn’t remember him?

But when the door opened and Y/N stepped into view, her face lit up with recognition.

“Jihoon?” she asked, her voice soft but filled with disbelief.

Jihoon’s heart thudded in his chest. “Noona… it’s really you.”

Y/N’s eyes searched his face, a small smile slowly forming as she took a step closer. “I didn’t expect to see you here, Jihoon. I thought you were busy with… well, everything you’ve been doing.”

“I… I didn’t expect to see you either,” Jihoon admitted, his voice shaky. “I had no idea you were a pianist in a musical now.”

Y/N laughed, the sound so familiar that it felt like a weight lifting off Jihoon’s shoulders. “I’ve been busy too, you know? After college, I decided to pursue music full-time. This is where I ended up.”

Jihoon smiled, his heart swelling with pride. “You’re amazing, noona. I didn’t know you were this talented.”

Her cheeks flushed a little, and she looked away modestly. “Thanks, Jihoon. But what about you? Look at you now. I saw your performance on TV. You’re incredible. You’ve really made it.”

Jihoon shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to her praise. “I guess so. But I’ve been thinking about you a lot. About… us.”

Y/N’s smile faded a little as she looked up at him, her expression unreadable. “Jihoon…”

He swallowed, nervous. “I went back to our hometown a while ago, hoping to find you. I kept asking around, but… no one knew where you were. I thought maybe you had moved on, or that I had forgotten you…”

Y/N shook her head, her hand gently reaching for his. “I never forgot you, Jihoon. I always wondered what happened to you. But I guess I just thought you were too busy to even remember me.”

Jihoon’s chest tightened at her words. “Noona, I never forgot you. I could never forget you.”

There was a long pause as they both stood there, the years of silence between them suddenly feeling very heavy. But as Jihoon looked into her eyes, he realized that despite everything that had changed, some things remained the same. The bond they shared, the connection they had, it was still there, still burning bright beneath the surface.

“I was hoping… maybe we could catch up?" Jihoon said.

Y/N smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up. “I’d like that. I’ve missed you, Jihoon.”

Jihoon’s heart raced as he nodded. “I’ve missed you too, noona.”

Over the next few weeks, Jihoon and Y/N reconnected. They spent time reminiscing about their school days, about the late-night talks, the shared dreams, and the small moments that had meant so much.

Y/N told Jihoon about her journey into music, about how she had struggled and worked her way up to become a pianist in the musical. Jihoon shared his own story, about the hardships of being a trainee, the sacrifices he had made, and the loneliness that often came with fame.

Through it all, they never once lost the connection they had.

One evening, after another performance, Jihoon walked Y/N back to her apartment. As they stood outside the door, Jihoon hesitated before speaking.

“Noona…” he began, his voice tentative.

Y/N looked at him, her gaze soft. “What is it, Jihoon?”

“I don’t know what the future holds, but I know this—” He took a deep breath, his heart racing. “I want you to be a part of it. I don’t want to lose you again.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her heart fluttering in her chest. She smiled, her hand gently resting on his. “You won’t lose me, Jihoon.”

Weeks passed since Jihoon and Y/N reconnected. Their lives had been different since their youth, but some things never changed—the way they talked for hours without getting bored, the way they understood each other without needing to say much. The connection they once shared had only grown stronger, and now that they were both pursuing their dreams, it felt like fate had brought them back together.

One day, Jihoon invited Y/N to visit his studio. It had been a while since they had spent time in private, just the two of them.

Y/N arrived in the afternoon, and as soon as she stepped into the studio, she was greeted by the familiar hum of creativity. There were soundboards, microphones, and instruments everywhere. She could smell the faint scent of coffee in the air and the sound of a few tracks playing softly in the background.

“Wow,” she whispered, looking around in awe. “This is incredible.”

Jihoon grinned, proud of the space he had helped create. “It’s not much, but it’s home. For now, anyway.”

Y/N laughed, sitting down on the leather couch against the wall. “This is amazing, Jihoon. I can see how hard you’ve worked to get here.”

Jihoon sat beside her, his gaze thoughtful. “It’s a lot more work than I ever expected. Some days, it’s easy to forget what I’m even working for.”

Y/N looked at him, her expression soft and understanding. “I get it. It’s hard when your dream becomes your reality, and it feels like you’re just moving from one task to the next. But I know you’re doing this because you love it. I can see that in every note you play, every song you write.”

Jihoon looked at her, the sincerity in her voice touching him more than words could express. “Thanks, noona.”

After a while, Y/N stood up and walked toward the grand piano in the corner of the room. Jihoon had made sure it was a perfect space for creativity, and now, it seemed like the right moment for her to play.

“Do you mind if I play for a bit?” Y/N asked, her voice soft as she approached the piano.

Jihoon shook his head, a smile on his face. “Of course not. This is your space too.”

Y/N sat down at the piano, her fingers hovering over the keys before she began to play a soft, intricate melody. The music filled the room, and Jihoon stood, mesmerized by the way her hands moved across the keys with effortless grace.

The piece she played was familiar to him, one she had often played back when they were younger. He smiled as the sound brought back so many memories—the late nights at their school, playing together and dreaming of the future.

“This one,” Jihoon murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I remember this.”

Y/N smiled as she finished the piece, her fingers slowly coming to a stop. “You always loved this one. We played it together when we were younger.”

Jihoon nodded, his heart full as he sat beside her. “It feels like no time has passed. Your playing... it’s like you never stopped.”

Y/N’s smile softened, a touch of sadness in her eyes. “I didn’t stop. I just... took a different path. But music is still with me. It always will be.”

Jihoon’s gaze lingered on her, the quiet weight of their shared history filling the space. “I’ve missed hearing you play.”

Y/N chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ve missed playing for someone who understands.”

They sat together for a while, talking about the past and sharing their experiences. Y/N told Jihoon about her journey, the challenges of becoming a professional pianist in a competitive world, and how she had found herself in the world of musicals. Jihoon shared his own story, about the years of hard work and struggles as a trainee, the sacrifices he had made to make it this far, and the loneliness that often came with being in the spotlight.

Later, Jihoon decided to show Y/N some of his work. “Do you want to hear some of my recent songs?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Of course. I’d love to.”

Jihoon sat at the piano, playing the melody of one of the songs he’d written. Y/N listened intently, her fingers tapping the rhythm against her knee.

“You’re really good at this, Jihoon,” Y/N said after the song ended. “You’ve come a long way since we were kids.”

Jihoon smiled, though his thoughts were a bit more complicated. “You were always my inspiration, noona. I don’t think I’d be here if it weren’t for you.”

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, but she didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she leaned back and looked at Jihoon thoughtfully. “I’m proud of you, Jihoon. You’ve made it, even when things got tough. I’m happy we reconnected. I’ve always wanted the best for you.”

Jihoon’s chest tightened at her words, and he looked at her, his gaze soft. “I’m glad we found each other again.”

The evening eventually came to an end, and Y/N stood to leave, the night air cooling as she prepared to go back to her own busy life.

“Thanks for coming today, noona,” Jihoon said quietly.

Y/N smiled warmly. “Anytime. I’ll always be here when you need me, Jihoon. I’m proud of you, you know?”

Jihoon smiled back, though his heart felt a little heavy. “I’m proud of you too, noona. I’ve missed you.”

As Y/N stepped out into the night, Jihoon stood in the doorway for a long moment, watching her disappear into the distance. He felt a sense of peace settle over him. They were both walking their own paths now, but they had found each other again. And that was all that mattered.

Jihoon couldn’t shake the feeling that their reconnection was only the beginning of something more. Days turned into weeks, and although both of their schedules were packed, they made an effort to keep in touch. Texts, late-night calls, and the occasional lunch break together kept their bond alive.

One afternoon, Jihoon found himself scrolling through his phone, looking at the messages he’d exchanged with Y/N. Her encouragement lingered in his mind, and he realized he hadn’t seen her perform since the day they met again at the musical show.

He texted her on impulse:

Jihoon:

Noona, when’s your next performance?

It didn’t take long for a reply to come through.

Y/N:

This Saturday. It’s a small recital for a local charity event. Why?

Jihoon:

Can I come?

Her response came after a pause, but it was filled with warmth:

Y/N:

Of course. I’d love for you to be there.

Saturday evening, Jihoon arrived at the venue, a cozy yet elegant hall filled with an intimate crowd. He wore a mask and cap to avoid drawing attention, but even so, a few fans recognized him and whispered excitedly. He slipped into a seat near the back, his heart racing slightly as he waited for Y/N to take the stage.

When she finally appeared, Jihoon felt his breath catch. She looked calm and radiant, her confidence shining through as she walked to the grand piano at center stage. She bowed to the audience before sitting down, her fingers poised over the keys.

The music began softly, a gentle, melancholic melody that filled the room. Jihoon could see her expression as she played, completely absorbed in the moment. Her emotions poured into each note, and he couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of admiration for her.

As the final chord echoed through the hall, the audience erupted in applause. Jihoon clapped as well, his hands stinging from the force. He was proud—prouder than words could express.

Jihoon waited for the crowd to disperse before heading backstage. He found Y/N chatting with a few other performers, her smile warm and genuine as she thanked them for their kind words.

When her eyes met Jihoon’s, her face lit up. “Jihoon!”

She excused herself and walked over to him. “You came.”

“Of course,” Jihoon said, his voice soft. “You were amazing, noona. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Y/N laughed, a hint of embarrassment in her expression. “Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before pulling out a small bouquet of flowers he had been hiding behind his back. “These are for you. You deserve it.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Jihoon, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to,” he interrupted, his voice firm but kind. “You’ve always supported me. It’s my turn now.”

Y/N took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against his. “Thank you,” she said softly. “This really means a lot.”

The following week, Y/N visited Jihoon’s studio again, this time bringing her own sheet music.

“I thought we could try something new,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’ve been working on this piece, and I’d love your input.”

Jihoon raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “You want me to help?”

“You’re a genius when it comes to music,” Y/N replied, her tone playful. “Who better to collaborate with?”

They spent hours in the studio, blending her piano compositions with Jihoon’s production expertise. The room buzzed with creative energy as they worked together, bouncing ideas off each other and experimenting with different sounds.

At one point, Jihoon paused and looked at her. “This feels like old times, doesn’t it?”

Y/N smiled, her hands resting on the piano keys. “It does. I never thought we’d get to do this again.”

Jihoon nodded, his gaze softening. “I’m glad we found our way back to this. Back to each other.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. “Me too.”

As the evening turned into night, Y/N prepared to leave, but before she could step out the door, Jihoon stopped her.

“Noona,” he said, his voice hesitant but determined.

She turned to face him, curiosity in her eyes. “Yes?”

“I know we’ve both been busy, and our lives are complicated, but…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t want to lose touch with you again. Not ever.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she stepped closer. “You won’t, Jihoon. I promise.”

He smiled, a sense of relief washing over him. “Good. Because having you here, in my life, it feels right.”

Y/N looked at him, her own emotions reflected in her gaze. “It feels right for me too.”

As they stood there, the silence between them spoke louder than words. Their journey had come full circle, and though they didn’t know what the future held, they knew they would face it together.

Hoshi couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. The moment he learned about Jihoon and Y/N reconnecting, he shared the news with the other Seventeen members. The group was thrilled, especially after hearing countless stories about Y/N from Jihoon during their trainee days.

“Wait, is this the Y/N noona?” Seungkwan asked, his eyes wide.

“The one he couldn’t stop talking about?” Vernon added, smirking.

Joshua leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Jihoon, why didn’t you tell us you met her again?”

Jihoon groaned, sinking into the couch in their dorm. “Because it’s none of your business.”

Hoshi clapped Jihoon on the back, grinning from ear to ear. “Come on, hyung, don’t be like that! We’re practically family. If she’s important to you, she’s important to us.”

Mingyu chimed in, “We have to meet her. No excuses.”

“No,” Jihoon said firmly, shaking his head. “She’s not ready for that kind of chaos.”

“Too bad,” Jeonghan said with a sly smile. “We’re making it happen.”

Jihoon had barely stepped into the studio the next day when he got a text from Hoshi:

Hoshi:

We’re on our way. Don’t freak out.

Jihoon’s heart sank. He immediately called Hoshi, but the call went unanswered. Moments later, a knock sounded at the studio door. Jihoon sighed, bracing himself as he opened it.

Hoshi stood there, grinning, with Y/N by his side. Behind them, half the members were peeking around the corner, trying to stay hidden but failing miserably.

“Hoshi…” Jihoon started, glaring at his friend.

“Surprise!” Hoshi said, pushing the door open wider. “Y/N noona, meet the family!”

Y/N laughed nervously, looking at Jihoon. “I guess I didn’t have a choice in this, huh?”

Jihoon sighed, running a hand through his hair. “No, you didn’t. I didn’t either.”

Once inside, the introductions began. Y/N was polite and warm, but Jihoon couldn’t help but notice her slight nervousness as she met each member.

“Hi, I’m Seungkwan,” Seungkwan said, bowing dramatically. “I’ve heard so much about you. Jihoon hyung used to talk about you all the time.”

“Did not,” Jihoon muttered, earning chuckles from the group.

“Yes, you did!” Hoshi said, grinning. “You told us about how she used to cheer for you at baseball games and play piano for you when you were stressed.”

Y/N smiled at Jihoon. “You talked about me?”

Jihoon’s ears turned red, and he avoided her gaze. “It’s not like that. They’re exaggerating.”

Mingyu stepped forward, towering over both Jihoon and Y/N. “I’m Mingyu. It’s nice to finally meet you. We’ve all been curious about the legendary Y/N noona.”

“Legendary?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

Joshua chuckled. “In Jihoon’s words, you were his first inspiration.”

Jihoon groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Can we not do this right now?”

Y/N laughed softly, her nervousness easing as she saw Jihoon’s flustered reaction. “It’s okay, Jihoon. I’m flattered.”

The members quickly made themselves comfortable, and before long, the studio was filled with laughter and conversation. Y/N shared stories from her past with Jihoon, which the members eagerly soaked up.

“Wait, you were there for Jihoon’s first baseball game?” Dino asked, leaning forward with interest.

Y/N nodded. “I was. He struck out the first time he played, but by the end of the game, he hit a home run. I’ve never seen him look so proud.”

Jihoon sighed, his face flushed. “Can we not talk about that?”

“Why not?” Jeonghan teased. “It’s a great story!”

As the evening wore on, Y/N found herself growing more comfortable around the members. They were warm, funny, and clearly cared deeply for Jihoon. It made her happy to see him surrounded by people who supported him so wholeheartedly.

When the members finally decided to leave, Hoshi turned to Y/N with a mischievous grin. “Noona, you’re part of the family now. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Y/N laughed. “I’ll try not to be.”

After everyone left, the studio felt quieter, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Y/N and Jihoon sat together, the energy from earlier still lingering in the air.

“Sorry about them,” Jihoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re a bit much.”

“They’re wonderful,” Y/N replied, her voice soft. “It’s clear they care about you a lot. You’re lucky to have them.”

Jihoon looked at her, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, I am. But... I’m luckier to have you back in my life.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she smiled. “I’m lucky too, Jihoon.”

They sat in silence for a while, the unspoken bond between them stronger than ever. Jihoon knew that, no matter what challenges lay ahead, he wouldn’t face them alone.

The weeks after Y/N’s first meeting with the Seventeen members were filled with an easy rhythm of shared time. Jihoon and Y/N grew closer, finding moments between their busy schedules to meet. She was even starting to get used to the members’ playful teasing whenever she visited their dorm or joined them at the studio.

One afternoon, Jihoon invited Y/N to his studio again, but this time, the space was quieter—just the two of them.

“Thanks for making time to come today, noona,” Jihoon said, setting down two cups of coffee on the small table.

Y/N smiled, brushing her fingers lightly over the keys of the studio’s piano. “Of course. You’ve been so busy lately, I thought you might’ve forgotten about me.”

Jihoon sat across from her, his expression earnest. “Never. I just... needed to find the right moment. There’s something I’ve been working on, and I want you to hear it.”

Jihoon walked over to his computer, pulling up a file on his production software. He hesitated for a moment before pressing play.

The room filled with a soft piano melody, layered with strings and gentle percussion. It was a piece unlike anything Y/N had heard from him before—introspective and filled with emotion. As the music played, Y/N felt the weight of each note, as if it was telling a story only Jihoon could share.

When the song ended, Y/N turned to Jihoon, her eyes wide. “Jihoon, that was... beautiful. It felt so personal.”

Jihoon nodded, his gaze fixed on the screen. “It is. I wrote it for someone who means a lot to me.”

Y/N tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her expression. “Who?”

Jihoon turned to face her, his eyes meeting hers. “You.”

Y/N’s breath caught, and for a moment, the room felt still. “Me?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jihoon nodded, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “You’ve been such an important part of my life, even when we weren’t in touch. I never stopped thinking about you, noona. Writing this was my way of expressing everything I couldn’t say before.”

Y/N looked at him, her heart full as she absorbed his words. “Jihoon... I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” Jihoon said quickly, his cheeks flushing. “I just wanted you to know.”

Y/N smiled, reaching out to place a hand on his. “Thank you. It’s beautiful. And... it means more to me than I can put into words.”

Not long after, Y/N found herself visiting Seventeen’s dorm again, this time at Jihoon’s invitation. The members were ecstatic to see her, greeting her with the same enthusiasm as before.

“Noona!” Hoshi exclaimed, practically bounding toward her. “You’re back!”

“You’re braver than I thought,” Jeonghan teased, smirking. “Coming here willingly.”

Y/N laughed, the warmth of their welcome making her feel at ease. “I couldn’t say no. Jihoon insisted.”

“Hyung, insisting? That’s a first,” Dino joked, earning a playful glare from Jihoon.

As the evening went on, the members bombarded Y/N with questions.

“Did you know Jihoon was this grumpy when he was younger?” Mingyu asked, leaning forward eagerly.

“Was he always this short?” Seungkwan added, causing an uproar of laughter.

Y/N chuckled, glancing at Jihoon, who was now sitting with his arms crossed, clearly unimpressed. “He wasn’t grumpy. He was focused. And for the record, he was taller than most kids his age back then.”

“Thank you,” Jihoon muttered, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.

“But,” Y/N added, smirking, “he’s always had that little frown when he’s annoyed. It’s adorable.”

The room erupted in laughter, and Jihoon groaned, hiding his face in his hands. “Why did I even invite you here?”

As the night wound down, Y/N and Jihoon found themselves alone in the kitchen while the rest of the members watched a movie in the living room.

“Did they overwhelm you?” Jihoon asked, handing her a glass of water.

Y/N smiled, leaning against the counter. “Not at all. They’re wonderful, Jihoon. It’s clear how much they care about you.”

Jihoon looked at her, his gaze soft. “They’re like my second family. But... having you here feels different. It feels right.”

Y/N’s cheeks warmed at his words, and she looked down at her glass. “I feel the same way.”

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Noona, I know we’re both busy, and I know our lives aren’t simple, but... I want us to figure this out. I want you to be a part of my life, not just as my past, but as my present and future too.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searching his. “Are you sure, Jihoon? This isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’m sure,” Jihoon said, his voice steady. “I’ve never been more sure about anything.”

A small smile spread across Y/N’s lips, and she nodded. “Okay. Let’s figure it out together.”

Jihoon’s heart swelled at her words, and for the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of peace.

It was late in the evening when Jihoon and Y/N found themselves in his studio again. The familiar hum of equipment and the soft glow of the computer screen filled the room. Jihoon had invited her over under the pretense of showing her a new song, but as she sat across from him, engrossed in the notes spread on the piano, his heart raced.

“Noona,” Jihoon said, his voice quieter than usual.

Y/N looked up, tilting her head. “What’s wrong, Jihoon?”

He hesitated, his fingers fidgeting with a pen. “There’s something I need to say. Something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while.”

Y/N’s expression softened, and she set down the sheet music. “You know you can tell me anything.”

Jihoon took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “I’ve liked you for a long time. Since we were kids, actually. Back then, I didn’t understand it, but now I do. You’ve always been someone special to me, noona.”

Y/N’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. “Jihoon…”

“I know our lives are complicated,” Jihoon continued, his voice steady despite the pounding of his heart. “But I couldn’t keep this to myself anymore. I like you—not as a childhood friend, but as someone I want to be with.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the faint hum of the equipment. Then, Y/N stood and walked over to him.

“Jihoon,” she said softly, her voice trembling just slightly. “I’ve always cared about you, too. And honestly, I’ve been scared to admit it. But... I like you too.”

Jihoon’s eyes widened, and before he could process her words, she leaned down and kissed him. It was soft and tentative, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.

When they pulled away, Jihoon’s cheeks were flushed, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

“Does this mean you’ll give us a chance?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N nodded, her own smile mirroring his. “Yes, Jihoon. I will.”

It didn’t take long for the news to spread, thanks to Hoshi’s impeccable talent for eavesdropping.

The next morning, Jihoon walked into the dorm’s common room to find all twelve members waiting for him, their faces a mix of curiosity and mischief.

“Hyung!” Seungkwan exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You kissed her, didn’t you?”

Jihoon froze mid-step, his ears turning red. “How... How do you know that?”

“Hoshi hyung told us,” Vernon said nonchalantly, smirking.

Jihoon turned to Hoshi, who was grinning from ear to ear. “You couldn’t keep it to yourself, could you?”

“I have no regrets,” Hoshi said, laughing. “This is the best thing to happen in months!”

Jeonghan leaned back on the couch, a sly smile on his face. “So, Jihoon, when are you bringing her over again? We need to congratulate her for putting up with you.”

“Yah!” Jihoon snapped, his embarrassment reaching new heights. “Can you all not make this a big deal?”

“It is a big deal,” Mingyu chimed in. “Our stoic producer hyung has a love life! This is historic.”

Joshua patted Jihoon’s shoulder, his tone more sincere. “We’re happy for you, Jihoon. Really. You deserve this.”

Jihoon sighed, his initial annoyance fading. Despite their teasing, he could see the genuine happiness in their expressions. “Thanks, I guess. But can you all promise not to scare her off the next time she visits?”

“No promises,” Dino said, grinning.

As the members burst into laughter, Jihoon couldn’t help but smile. Their antics might drive him crazy, but deep down, he was grateful to have them by his side.

A week later, Jihoon invited Y/N to the dorm for dinner. Despite his warnings, the members were already on high alert, eager to see her again and, more importantly, to tease Jihoon mercilessly.

“Do you think they’ve kissed again?” Seungkwan whispered loudly as they set the table.

“I bet they have,” Mingyu said with a smirk.

“Ten bucks says Jihoon will get flustered if we even hint at it,” Vernon added, leaning against the counter.

“Guys, focus,” Jeonghan said, though his mischievous grin betrayed his intent. “We need to play this smart.”

Meanwhile, Jihoon and Y/N arrived at the dorm. Jihoon gave her a reassuring look as he opened the door.

“Don’t let them intimidate you,” Jihoon said softly.

Y/N laughed. “I think I can handle it.”

The evening started off relatively tame. The members greeted Y/N warmly, though their excitement was palpable. Over dinner, they chatted about everything from music to childhood stories, most of which involved Jihoon.

“Did you know Jihoon hyung used to eat instant noodles for every meal during trainee days?” Dino said, grinning.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Jihoon. “Really?”

Jihoon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why do you all insist on embarrassing me?”

“It’s our duty,” Hoshi said, laughing.

As the meal continued, the members kept sneaking glances at Jihoon and Y/N, exchanging knowing looks whenever the two shared a private smile or laugh.

After dinner, Y/N and Jihoon retreated to the balcony for a moment of peace. The evening air was cool, and the city lights twinkled in the distance.

“This is nice,” Y/N said, leaning on the railing.

Jihoon nodded, standing close beside her. “Yeah, it is.”

He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss her. It was soft and brief, but before they could pull away, the sound of stifled laughter made them freeze.

They turned to find half the members huddled at the door, their faces pressed against the glass.

“Oh my gosh!” Seungkwan exclaimed, throwing the door open. “We caught them!”

Jihoon groaned, stepping back from Y/N. “Do you guys have no boundaries?”

“Nope,” Mingyu said, grinning. “This is way too entertaining.”

“You guys looked like a scene from a drama,” Jeonghan added, dramatically clasping his hands over his chest.

“Hyung,” Dino said, pretending to wipe a tear. “You’re growing up so fast.”

“Leave us alone,” Jihoon muttered, his face bright red.

Back inside, the members didn’t let up.

“So, Jihoon,” Joshua said with a sly smile, “how long have you been sneaking kisses behind our backs?”

“Yeah,” Hoshi chimed in. “And why didn’t you tell us? We’re supposed to be your brothers!”

Jihoon crossed his arms, glaring at them. “Because it’s none of your business.”

“Hyung, come on,” Seungkwan said. “You’ve got to give us something. Were you always this romantic, or is this new?”

“I’m not romantic,” Jihoon snapped, his embarrassment only fueling their teasing.

Y/N, meanwhile, couldn’t stop laughing. “You guys really don’t let up, do you?”

“Not when it comes to Jihoon hyung,” Vernon said, smirking.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Jihoon said, standing up. “If you’re all going to act like children, Y/N and I are leaving.”

“No!” Dino said, grabbing Y/N’s hand dramatically. “Noona, don’t go! We promise to behave!”

Y/N smiled, patting his hand. “I think I’ll be back soon enough. But for now, I should probably let Jihoon calm down.”

As Jihoon walked Y/N to the door, he sighed. “Sorry about them. They’re impossible.”

Y/N smiled, slipping her hand into his. “Don’t apologize. They’re wonderful. I’m glad you have them.”

Jihoon looked at her, his expression softening. “Still, I’ll make sure they behave next time.”

“Next time?” Y/N teased.

Jihoon smiled. “Yeah. Next time.”

As she left, Jihoon returned to the living room, where the members were waiting with smug grins.

“Don’t say a word,” Jihoon warned, though his expression held a hint of a smile.

The members burst into laughter, their teasing filling the room once more.

A week after the chaos of dinner at the dorm, Y/N visited Jihoon at the studio again. This time, the atmosphere was quiet and calm—just the two of them. Jihoon had asked her to help him with a melody he was struggling to finish, knowing her insight as a pianist would be invaluable.

“You know,” Y/N said, sitting at the piano in the corner, “I never thought I’d be working on music with you like this. It feels... surreal.”

Jihoon leaned against the desk, a small smile on his face. “I’ve always wanted to share this part of my life with you, noona. It just took me a while to get here.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes warm. “I’m glad you did.”

As she played a soft tune on the piano, Jihoon watched her intently. Her presence in the studio felt natural, like she belonged there.

Just as they were starting to settle into the work, the studio door burst open, and Seungkwan, Mingyu, and Hoshi walked in with bright smiles.

“Hyung, we brought food—” Seungkwan started, but then froze when he saw Y/N. His grin widened. “Oh, noona’s here!”

Jihoon groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Why are you guys here?”

“We thought you’d be lonely,” Mingyu said, setting a bag of takeout on the desk. “But clearly, you’re not.”

Hoshi smirked, nudging Jihoon playfully. “We didn’t know you’d have such nice company.”

Y/N laughed, standing up to greet them. “It’s nice to see you all again.”

“You too, noona,” Hoshi said, then turned to Jihoon. “Were you two working or—?”

“We were working,” Jihoon cut in, glaring at him.

“Sure you were,” Seungkwan teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

As the afternoon went on, the members insisted on staying, claiming they wanted to “supervise” Jihoon’s work. They lounged around, occasionally offering unsolicited opinions on the music and cracking jokes at Jihoon’s expense.

At one point, Jihoon leaned over to show Y/N something on the piano. She laughed at a joke he made, and instinctively, Jihoon reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

The moment was subtle, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh my gosh, did you see that?” Seungkwan whispered loudly to Mingyu.

“Totally,” Mingyu whispered back, though his voice was anything but quiet.

“Hyung, stop being so romantic in front of us!” Hoshi exclaimed, dramatically shielding his eyes.

Jihoon sighed, straightening up. “Do you guys ever stop?”

“Nope,” Seungkwan said, grinning. “This is our entertainment.”

Later, when the members finally started packing up to leave, Jihoon walked Y/N to the door. Thinking they were finally alone, Jihoon leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

“Thanks for coming, noona,” he said softly.

Y/N smiled, her cheeks flushing. “Anytime.”

But before they could step apart, a loud gasp came from behind them.

“You’re doing it again!” Hoshi shouted, pointing at them.

The rest of the members rushed over, their expressions a mix of shock and glee.

“Hyung! In the studio?!” Mingyu said, feigning scandal.

“I can’t believe this,” Seungkwan said, clutching his chest dramatically. “Right in front of our takeout bag!”

Jihoon groaned, his ears turning red. “Can you all leave already?”

“No way,” Jeonghan said, grinning. “This is gold. Noona, you’ve really softened our Jihoon.”

Y/N laughed, covering her face with her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

“And you still like him?” Vernon teased.

“Don’t scare her off,” Jihoon muttered, shoving Hoshi lightly toward the door.

When the members finally left, Jihoon sighed in relief, turning back to Y/N. “I’m sorry about them.”

Y/N smiled, stepping closer to him. “Don’t be. I think it’s sweet how much they care about you.”

Jihoon softened, his usual stoic expression giving way to a small, genuine smile. “They’re lucky you think that. Otherwise, I’d never hear the end of it.”

Y/N laughed, wrapping her arms around him briefly. “I’ll see you soon, Jihoon. And next time, I’ll bring snacks for everyone.”

Jihoon watched her leave, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Despite the chaos, he wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

As more fans became aware of Jihoon and Y/N’s relationship, the reactions grew increasingly varied. While many Carats supported Jihoon’s happiness, there were vocal detractors who scrutinized Y/N’s every move.

One evening, Y/N scrolled through social media, coming across both kind messages and a few harsh comments.

“Why her?”

“She’s not even that famous.”

“He seems happier, so I guess it’s okay.”

Though the positive comments outweighed the negative, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the sting of criticism. She closed her phone and leaned back, staring at the ceiling of her apartment.

Jihoon, sensing her mood during their usual phone call, asked, “Noona, is something wrong?”

Y/N hesitated before admitting, “Some of the comments... they’re a bit much.”

Jihoon’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, noona. I wish I could shield you from all of this.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Y/N said quickly. “I just… I don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“You could never do that,” Jihoon said firmly. “If anything, you make things better. Don’t ever doubt that, okay?”

Her heart warmed at his words. “Okay, Jihoon.”

The members, true to their word, found ways to show their support for Jihoon and Y/N. During live broadcasts, Seungkwan and Mingyu casually mentioned how “nice” it was to see Jihoon smiling more often.

Hoshi, on the other hand, was less subtle. In a recent behind-the-scenes video, he joked, “Jihoon-hyung has someone special cheering him on these days. It’s no wonder his melodies are even sweeter!”

Carats quickly picked up on these moments, and the majority of fans began rallying around the idea of Jihoon’s happiness being their priority.

To escape the pressures of public scrutiny, Jihoon planned a quiet getaway for himself and Y/N. They drove to a small countryside village near their hometown, where they could relax without worrying about being recognized.

The day was filled with simple joys—walking along quiet paths, visiting small cafes, and sitting by a riverbank as Y/N played a soft tune on her piano app.

“You really love the piano, don’t you?” Jihoon asked, watching her.

“It’s always been a part of me,” Y/N said. “Kind of like how music is for you.”

Jihoon nodded, leaning back on his elbows. “You’re part of my music now, noona. You inspire me.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed. “Stop saying things like that, Jihoon. You’ll make me cry.”

Jihoon chuckled, reaching out to hold her hand. “It’s the truth.”

As time passed, Y/N and Jihoon decided to make their relationship more public. They attended a charity event together, where Y/N performed as the opening act, playing a stunning piano solo.

Jihoon watched her from the sidelines, his heart swelling with pride. When she finished, the audience erupted into applause, and Jihoon was among the loudest to cheer.

Afterward, a few fans approached them cautiously.

“Jihoon oppa, Y/N unnie is amazing!” one fan said shyly.

“Thank you,” Jihoon said, smiling warmly. “She really is.”

Y/N, though initially nervous, found herself relaxing as fans expressed their support.

“We just want you to be happy,” another fan said.

Y/N glanced at Jihoon, her heart swelling with gratitude. “Thank you. That means so much to both of us.”

Back in the studio, Y/N became a frequent visitor. Though she usually stayed in the background, Jihoon would often ask for her input on melodies or lyrics.

One day, while working on a particularly emotional ballad, Jihoon turned to Y/N. “This song... it’s about us.”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Jihoon nodded. “It’s about finding someone who feels like home. That’s what you are to me, noona.”

Y/N smiled, tears brimming in her eyes. “You have no idea how much that means to me, Jihoon.”

During one of her visits to the studio, Y/N stayed late as Jihoon finished mixing a track. When he finally leaned back in his chair, exhausted but satisfied, Y/N walked over to congratulate him.

“You’ve worked so hard,” she said, brushing his hair back.

Jihoon smiled, pulling her into a gentle kiss.

Just as they pulled away, the studio door burst open, and Seungkwan, Hoshi, and Mingyu stood there, frozen in shock.

“AGAIN?!” Seungkwan exclaimed.

Jihoon groaned, his hand covering his face. “Can you guys knock?”

“No way,” Hoshi said, laughing. “This is too good.”

“I’m telling the others,” Mingyu said, pulling out his phone.

“Don’t you dare,” Jihoon said, standing up to chase him.

Y/N, meanwhile, couldn’t stop laughing. “You’ll never get a moment of peace, will you?”

Jihoon sighed but smiled, wrapping an arm around her. “Probably not. But as long as you I don't mind"

As their first anniversary approached, Jihoon found himself brainstorming ways to make it unforgettable. He wanted to show Y/N just how much she meant to him.

“Hyung,” Mingyu said one evening as Jihoon sat in the dorm’s living room, jotting down ideas. “You’re stressing out too much. It’s an anniversary, not a world tour.”

“It’s not just an anniversary,” Jihoon replied, frowning at his notebook. “It’s the anniversary. I want it to be perfect.”

Seungkwan, who was lounging nearby, chimed in. “Just be yourself, hyung. Noona already loves you. You don’t need fireworks—although, if you want fireworks, I know a guy.”

Jihoon sighed. “I’ll figure it out.”

Little did Jihoon know, Y/N was also planning something special. She knew how much music meant to him, so she composed a short piano piece inspired by their journey together. It was her way of expressing everything she felt but couldn’t always put into words.

On the day of their anniversary, Y/N arrived at Jihoon’s studio carrying a small gift bag and a folder of sheet music. She was nervous but excited.

“Happy anniversary, Jihoon,” she said, smiling as she handed him the bag.

Jihoon opened it to find a simple but elegant bracelet engraved with the words: You’re my melody.

“Noona,” Jihoon said, his voice soft. “This is perfect.”

“There’s more,” Y/N said, her cheeks flushing. She handed him the folder. “I wrote this for you.”

Jihoon stared at the sheet music, his eyes scanning the notes. “You wrote a song?”

Y/N nodded. “It’s not much, but—”

“It’s everything,” Jihoon interrupted, his voice filled with awe. “Thank you, noona.”

Later that evening, Jihoon took Y/N to a small, private restaurant he had rented out just for them. The room was decorated with fairy lights and candles, creating a warm, romantic atmosphere.

“This is amazing,” Y/N said, looking around in awe.

“It’s not much,” Jihoon said, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I wanted you to feel special.”

Y/N smiled, taking his hand. “I always feel special with you, Jihoon.”

As they ate, Jihoon pulled out a small box. “I have something for you, too.”

Y/N opened the box to find a delicate silver necklace with a tiny pendant shaped like a piano.

“I thought it would remind you of how much you inspire me,” Jihoon said.

Y/N’s eyes welled up with tears. “Jihoon, this is beautiful. Thank you.”

When Jihoon and Y/N returned to the dorm later that night, they were greeted by the members, who had planned a surprise party. The living room was decorated with balloons and banners, and a cake sat on the coffee table.

“Happy anniversary!” Hoshi exclaimed, pulling them into the room.

“You didn’t think we’d let you celebrate alone, did you?” Seungkwan added, grinning.

Y/N laughed, feeling overwhelmed by their kindness. “You guys are amazing.”

As the night went on, the members took turns teasing Jihoon about being romantic, sharing embarrassing stories, and welcoming Y/N further into their “family.”

Later, as the party wound down and the members dispersed, Jihoon and Y/N found themselves alone on the balcony. The city lights twinkled in the distance as Jihoon leaned against the railing, holding Y/N close.

“This year has been the best of my life,” Jihoon said softly. “Because of you.”

Y/N smiled, resting her head on his shoulder. “I feel the same. I never imagined we’d end up here, but I’m so glad we did.”

Jihoon turned to her, his expression serious yet tender. “Noona, no matter what happens—no matter how crazy things get—I’ll always choose you.”

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes shining. “And I’ll always be here for you, Jihoon.”

As they shared a gentle kiss under the night sky, they knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they’d face them together.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

the perfect way to spend christmas

summary. jihoon really wants his first christmas with you to be perfect

pairing. loverboy! l.jh x fem! reader genre. new relationship, fluff, crack warnings. seokmin being seokmin, jihoon threatens them but its lighthearted(?) wc. 786 a/n. my first work on here after a while for @k-films advent calender event. also, my first (and possibly only) work where profanity isn't a warning lmao. anygays, enjoy down bad loverboy jihoon <3 mwah mwah merry christmas and happy new years. p.s: check out the masterlist for the event here!

the last thing soonyoung expects to see when he enters his shared apartment with jihoon are christmas decorations.

jihoon putting up a plant smack dab in the middle of the kitchen, to be exact.

"when i told you to decorate for the party, i didn't expect you to go all out like this!", soonyoung exclaims, while placing the bags of food and alcohol on the counter.

"well, this is my first christmas after getting with y/n so it's only appropriate i go all out, especially since we're hosting."

jihoon replies, almost shyly, as he continues taping the mystery plant to the ceiling.

soonyoung merely laughs at his friend. in all honesty, he was somewhat of a cupid in getting the two of you to go out with each other, owing to his balbbermouth tendencies when drunk, exposing jihoon's long term crush on you.

"well. make sure you don't end up putting any mistletoes in there lest seokmin tries to make out with you."

"again." soonyoung adds after a beat.

jihoon's face scrunches up at the thought. they really did not need a repeat of the great disaster '22. he's about to retort when the doorbell rings, signalling the first guest had arrived.

soonyoung gets the door as jihoon cleans up in the kitchen. he can tell by the chaos happening in the doorway that seokmin and seungkwan were the first two to arrive.

he finishes up and goes to greet them. seokmin immediately tackles him into a hug which he reciprocates while the other two tease him about how he broke seokmin's heart by going out with you.

amidst the teasing, the doorbell rings a second time and jihoon finds himself hoping that's it's you behind the door.

the door opens to reveal mingyu and minghao and jihoon is almost disappointed when he catches sight of you behind mingyu's broad frame.

he doesn't even stop to consider the consequences when he shoves walks past mingyu to, quite literally, engulf you in a hug. he only registers what he's done when he hears the hooting and cheering of the members behind him and sees the shell shocked face of seungcheol who had walked up right behind you and mingyu.

he retreats from the hug, embarassed. meanwhile, you were left with a lingering warmth that had gone as fast as it had come.

"well, at least someone exists here who can make the lee jihoon himself lose control." jokes seungcheol as he enters the apartment.

"we'll give you guys some privacy for now," says minghao, leaving the two of you in the doorway, red faced and flustered.

jihoon breaks the ice first,

"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have-"

"it's fine, hoon. really. it was actually kinda cute."

"of all the things you could've called me, cute?!" jihoon feigns offense. you giggle at his antics and jihoon swears he could die right now. he notices the bag in your hands and gives you a questioning look.

"cupcakes, for the party." you clarify.

jihoon thanks every being in the universe for giving him the oppurtunity to say what he did,

"let's go to the kitchen and open them, they smell delicious."

you nod excitedly and walk towards the kitchen as jihoon follows.

unbeknownst to you, he silently threatens to do unspeakable things to his friends if they so much so as looked at the two of you while you were in the kitchen

you hum to yourself as you start to open the box of cupcakes when jihoon walks up behind you. you're about to tease him about being oh so obsessed with you when he utters a single word while pointing upwards

"mistletoe"

you look up at the ceiling and sure enough, a dainty little mistletoe is taped to the surface, albeit a little haphazardly. you look back at jihoon. your eyes flit between the mistletoe and jihoon's face.

jihoon can see the gears turning in your head about the possibilities of one of his idiot friends walking in.

"relax, none of them are coming anywhere near us, i assure you."

the tone he uses leaves no room for any buts or what ifs. so you don't ask any and instead opt to kiss him as hard as you can.

he stumbles back a little because of the impact but gains his footing fast enough to wrap his arms around your waist to kiss you back with the same fervor, if not harder.

the two of you end up so lost in each other, you don't even hear the other three holding seokmin down as he yells "me next".

'what a perfect way to spend his first christmas with the woman of his dreams' is last coherent thought that flashes through jihoon's mind before he loses himself in you again.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

the orange peel theory ; l. jihoon

genre: fluff

word count: 631

rions post it note: Haiii happy new years everyone!!! i got really busy at the end of the year and things have barely started to die down so heres a quick jihoon drabble! i found the idea of taking care of sick hoonie very cute. i miss my beautiful girlfriend jihoon.....

“hey jiji, i’m coming in.” you slide the door open, bags in hand with many medicine bottles and bundles of oranges, after all vitamin c is the cure to all things. your eyes shift around the room, eyeing the clothes on the floor and his bed mostly empty– save for the large mound of blankets in the middle that was jihoon.

he was underneath it all, knees tucked all the way up to his chin and in fetal position. he felt the mattress dip under your weight and the warm bubble he had created under 3 layers of blankets burst as you lifted them off his head.

“hey.. it's cold.. give them back.” he whined softly, his voice hoarse from the sore throat he had gotten from having to walk back home in the pouring rain, “i’ll tuck you back in a second, jiji, just let me give you some medicine–” you rummage through the plastic bag and grab a bottle of nyquil, “have you eaten yet? i brought some oranges from my place if you can’t stomach full meals yet.” jihoon shakes his head slowly and snakes his arms around your stomach and pulls himself closer to your warmth, treating you like a heater. “not yet…. could you peel the orange for me, please?” he elongates the end of the word in a cute tone that makes your cheeks heat up.

you happily peel the oranges’ skin off for him, puncturing the thick layer with your nail and pulling it back a couple times. “here, i’ll even feed you since i’m feeling generous today.” you giggle before popping a slice in his mouth. jihoon chews on the slice and sees you peeling the strings of the white membrane off the pieces you're about to feed him, “thank you, you didn't have to come here to take care of me..” he says as you slide another piece of orange in his mouth, “these are great.”

you smile as you push back the pieces of damp hair that have stuck to the sweat of his forehead, and rest your hand in his hair, “but i wanted to. i can’t let my favorite person in the world suffer alone, can i? this is the least i could do for you, jiji.” your thumb caresses his forehead and you plant a small kiss right in the center, “plus–” you feed him the last piece of orange, “this means i get to spend time with you. even if you’re sick and sleeping half the time.”

you grab and unscrew the cap from the nyquil, pouring to just about half of the measuring cup, “here, take this.” he props himself up for a second on his elbow, albeit wobbly. you pinch his chin in between your fingers and lift his head up, pouring the medicine down his throat. he pulls back and his face twists for a second– jihoons never liked the taste of nyquil, and he motions for the half empty bottle of water on his nightstand and downs the rest of it.

“can’t they make it taste good, god, that was terrible..” he shakes his head before laying back down and snaking his arm around you again, pulling you closer to him. you smile and rub up and down his back, “relax, it’s not that bad. besides, you only take it like, 2 times a day.” with your free hand, you dig into your bag of citrus’ and pull out a large orange to peel and feed him.

jihoon hums and rubs circles into your side with his thumb, your warmth keeping him comfort, and while he won’t say it out loud– he appreciates you taking the trip to his apartment and taking care of him, even if all he has is a fever.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

Request Yes! : Some requested a 14th member One Shot of Y/N fainting.

Learing to Care Again | idol!Woozi x 14thMember | angst, fluff

The practice room was buzzing with energy as the 13 members of Seventeen moved in unison, perfecting their choreography for the upcoming comeback. The air was thick with the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor and the heavy breathing of the boys pushing themselves to the limit. Among them was Y/N, the 14th member, working just as hard to keep up.

However, something felt off today.

Y/N’s vision blurred slightly as she struggled to keep her balance during the sharp turns of the routine. Her head was pounding, and her body felt weak, but she didn’t want to stop. Everyone was giving it their all, and she didn’t want to be the one to slow them down.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jeonghan asked, noticing her stumble during one of the moves.

“I’m fine,” Y/N forced a smile, waving him off. “Just a little tired.”

But she wasn’t fine. The next moment, her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the floor.

“Y/N!”

The music stopped abruptly as the members rushed to her side. Minghao carefully propped her up while Joshua grabbed a bottle of water.

“She’s burning up,” Seungcheol said, placing a hand on her forehead.

“I’m fine,” Y/N whispered weakly, trying to sit up, but Seokmin gently pushed her back down.

“You’re not fine,” Mingyu said, his voice laced with worry. “You fainted.”

“Woozi-hyung should know about this,” Seungkwan said, already pulling out his phone.

“No!” Y/N protested, her voice barely above a whisper. The urgency in her tone made everyone pause.

“Why not?” Vernon asked, frowning.

“He’s already stressed with the album,” Y/N explained, her eyes pleading. “We’ve been… arguing a lot lately. I don’t want to add to his stress.”

The members exchanged uncertain glances.

“Y/N, he’s your boyfriend,” Hoshi said gently. “He’d want to know.”

“Please,” Y/N begged. “Don’t tell him. Just let me rest for now. I’ll talk to him later.”

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol sighed. “Fine. But you’re taking the rest of the day off. No arguments.”

Y/N nodded, too tired to protest.————————————————————————————-That evening, the dorm was lively as always, with the members gathered in the living room, eating snacks and playing games. Y/N sat quietly on the couch, her body still weak from the incident earlier.

“Y/N, you should eat more,” Wonwoo said, handing her a bowl of soup he had warmed up.

“Thank you,” she said softly, accepting it.

Minghao brought over a blanket and draped it over her shoulders. “You need to stay warm.”

Seungkwan sat beside her, handing her a hot pack. “Let us know if you feel dizzy again, okay?”

The other members chimed in with their own comments and advice, their concern for Y/N evident in their actions.

Woozi, who had just returned from the studio, watched the scene with a frown.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, his tone sharp.

Everyone turned to look at him.

“What do you mean?” Seungcheol asked, trying to sound casual.

“I mean, why is everyone acting like Y/N is made of glass all of a sudden?” Woozi said, crossing his arms. “She’s not a kid.”

“We’re just looking out for her,” Joshua said evenly.

“You’re hovering,” Woozi countered, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you all acting so weird?”

The room fell silent for a moment, the tension thick in the air.

“Maybe if you paid more attention to your girlfriend, you’d know why,” Seungkwan muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” Woozi asked, his voice dangerously low.

“Seungkwan,” Jeonghan warned, but it was too late.

Seungkwan stood up, his frustration boiling over. “I said, maybe if you actually cared about Y/N instead of locking yourself in the studio all day, you’d know that she fainted during practice today!”

Woozi’s eyes widened, and he turned to Y/N. “What?”

Y/N looked down, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” Woozi cut her off, his voice rising. “You fainted, and no one told me?”

“You’ve been so stressed with work,” Y/N said quietly. “I didn’t want to bother you.”

“Bother me?” Woozi echoed, his tone incredulous. “Y/N, you’re my girlfriend. How could you think you’d be bothering me by telling me something like this?”

“You haven’t exactly been… present lately,” Y/N admitted, her voice trembling. “We’ve been fighting so much, and I didn’t want to make things worse.”

Woozi ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident on his face. “So you thought keeping this from me was the solution?”

“You weren’t exactly approachable,” Jeonghan said pointedly. “You’ve been so wrapped up in work that you’ve barely noticed anything going on with her.”

“Enough,” Seungcheol said, stepping in. “We’re not here to gang up on each other.”

Woozi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He looked at Y/N, his expression softening. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to add to your stress,” Y/N said, her eyes filling with tears. “I know how important this album is to you.”

“And you’re important to me,” Woozi said firmly. He sat down beside her, taking her hands in his. “I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like you’re not. I’ve been so focused on work that I didn’t realize how much I’ve been neglecting you.”

“It’s not just your fault,” Y/N said, wiping her tears. “I should have talked to you instead of keeping it to myself.”

“We both need to do better,” Woozi said, his voice gentle. “But you can’t hide things like this from me, okay? If something’s wrong, I want to know.”

“Okay,” Y/N said, nodding.

The room was silent for a moment, the tension finally easing.

“Are we good now?” Mingyu asked, breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Woozi said, a small smile tugging at his lips. He turned to the other members. “Thank you for looking out for her.”

“Just do better, hyung,” Seungkwan said with a grin.

“I will,” Woozi promised, pulling Y/N closer. “I’ll do better.”

As the members returned to their games and conversations, Woozi stayed by Y/N’s side, holding her hand and silently vowing to never let her feel alone again.

————————————————————————————-

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

More 14th member please angst too pleasee HAHAHA

Unspoken Tears | idol!Svt x idol!14thmember x idol!Mingi | angst, drama

The dorm was unusually quiet that night. Seventeens youngest member, Y/N, sat curled up in her room, her knees pulled tightly to her chest. She bit her lip, fighting the sobs that threatened to escape. The voices of her older brothers—her Seventeen members—echoed faintly through the walls. They were in the living room, playing games, laughing, and teasing each other like always.

But tonight, she couldn’t bring herself to join them.

For weeks now, she had felt the shift within herself. Her once bright and cheerful personality had dimmed, replaced by an unfamiliar heaviness in her chest. She tried to hide it, to smile and pretend that nothing was wrong.

Yet, no matter how hard she tried, the pain lingered.

She thought she had been prepared. She thought ending things with Mingi had been the right decision. Their relationship had started in secret, pushed by their management teams for publicity, but it had quickly turned real. Too real.

And now, it was over.

Her heart clenched painfully at the thought of seeing him tomorrow at the MAMAs. Would he look at her the same way? Would he pretend that nothing had happened between them? Or worse—would he look at her with regret?

A sudden knock on her door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Y/N? You awake?” It was Joshua’s voice, gentle and filled with concern.

Y/N quickly wiped her eyes and cleared her throat. “Y-Yeah. What’s up?”

There was a pause before the door creaked open. Joshua stepped in first, followed closely by Jeonghan and Woozi. Their expressions softened the moment they saw her puffy eyes and trembling lips.

“Y/N…” Jeonghan murmured, closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, plastering a fake smile on her face. “Really, I—”

“Don’t,” Woozi interrupted, his voice firm but caring. “Don’t say you’re fine when you’re clearly not.”

Y/N’s smile faltered, and Joshua sat down beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Talk to us,” he said softly. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. She didn’t want to burden them with her problems. They already had so much on their plates with rehearsals and schedules. But as Jeonghan sat down on her other side, offering her a tissue, the dam broke.

Tears streamed down her face as she whispered, “It’s Mingi…”

Joshua and Woozi exchanged glances, while Jeonghan squeezed her hand.

“The rumors,” Woozi said carefully. “Are they true?”

Y/N nodded slowly. “They were. But we’re not together anymore.” Her voice cracked. “We broke up.”

Jeonghan frowned, his protective instincts flaring up. “Did he hurt you? Did he—”

“No! It wasn’t like that,” Y/N interrupted quickly. “It’s just… we couldn’t make it work. We were both so busy, and we barely saw each other. It felt like we were always chasing each other but never catching up.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with emotion.

Joshua sighed. “That must’ve been really hard on you.”

Y/N buried her face in her hands. “I still love him. And tomorrow—I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him.”

Without hesitation, Jeonghan reached out and pulled her into a hug.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, gently rubbing her back as she sobbed into his chest. “Let it out. We’re here.”

Woozi and Joshua exchanged another glance, silently agreeing on what needed to be done.

“Stay with her,” Woozi said softly, giving Jeonghan a nod. “We’ll go let the others know what’s going on.”

Joshua stood up and placed a reassuring hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder before following Woozi out of the room, leaving the two alone.

———————————————————————————-

Joshua and Woozi stepped out of Y/N’s room, closing the door gently behind them. The two exchanged silent glances, each of them still processing what had just unfolded.

As they walked back into the living room, the rest of the members immediately turned toward them. The cheerful vibe from earlier had completely shifted to tense curiosity.

Seungkwan was the first to speak. “Well? What’s going on?”

“Is she okay?” asked Mingyu, standing up as if ready to barge into her room.

“What happened?” Hoshi added, pacing nervously.

Joshua held up his hands to calm them. “Sit down. All of you.”

There was a shuffle as everyone quickly gathered, their eyes locked onto the two.

“Y/N…” Woozi started, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s going through a breakup.”

“A breakup?” Vernon repeated, eyebrows furrowed. “With who?”

Joshua hesitated. “Mingi.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

“What?!” Seungkwan practically yelled, breaking the stillness.

“You mean the Mingi from Ateez? That Mingi?!” DK looked genuinely shocked.

“How did we not know about this?” Dino asked, his voice quieter but equally concerned.

“They were keeping it private,” Woozi explained. “It wasn’t supposed to get out, but… yeah, it’s true.”

“And it’s over now,” Joshua added softly.

Mingyu shot up from his seat. “Wait, wait, wait. Did he do something to her? Did he hurt her?”

“No!” Woozi quickly clarified. “It wasn’t like that. She said they just… couldn’t make it work because of their schedules. But she still loves him.”

“That’s why she’s been so off lately,” Wonwoo said, his voice calm but heavy. “I should’ve noticed.”

Jun, who had been quietly listening, finally spoke. “I knew something was wrong. She hasn’t been herself for weeks.”

“Why didn’t she tell us?” Minghao muttered, clearly frustrated.

“Because she didn’t want to burden us,” Joshua said.

“Burden us?” Mingyu scoffed. “We’re her family! We’re supposed to protect her, and we didn’t even see it happening.”

“Calm down,” Seungcheol said firmly, though his own voice carried a slight edge. “We can’t change the past. What matters is that we’re here for her now.”

The room fell quiet again as the weight of the situation settled over them.

Hoshi finally broke the silence. “So… what do we do now?”

“We support her,” Woozi said simply. “Tomorrow’s going to be tough for her, especially seeing him at the MAMAs. We make sure she knows she’s not alone.”

Before anyone else could speak, the door to Y/N’s room opened, and Jeonghan stepped out quietly. The lighthearted moment faded as they all turned to look at him.

“She’s asleep,” he said softly, his voice calm but tired. “I stayed with her until she calmed down.”

The group relaxed slightly at his words, but their concern lingered.

“Thank you,” Seungcheol said, giving him a small nod.

Jeonghan offered a faint smile. “She’s hurting, but she’ll be okay. We just need to be there for her tomorrow.”

Everyone nodded, determination replacing the earlier panic.

———————————————————————————-

The arena buzzed with excitement as idols and fans filled the space. Seventeen sat at their designated table, cameras constantly flashing toward them.

Y/N’s nerves were on edge. Despite the support from her members the night before, her chest tightened every time she glanced at the Ateez table.

“Hey,” Seungkwan said, nudging her lightly. “Don’t think about it too much. Focus on us, okay? We’re going to kill it out there.”

Y/N smiled weakly. “Okay.”

But the moment Ateez took the stage, her resolve crumbled. Mingi’s presence was magnetic, and despite the distance, their eyes met for the briefest moment. It was enough to stir all the feelings she had tried so hard to bury.

Mingyu, noticing her distress, leaned in. “You good?”

Y/N swallowed hard and nodded, but he wasn’t convinced. Reaching out, he held her hand under the table, offering silent comfort.

———————————————————————————-

When the performances ended, the groups began mingling. Y/N tried to stay close to her members, but it didn’t take long for Mingi to approach her.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice almost drowned out by the noise around them.

Immediately, Jeonghan and Mingyu stepped closer, their protective auras flaring up.

“It’s okay,” Y/N said, stopping them. “I’ll be fine.”

Slowly, they backed off but stayed within earshot.

Mingi’s eyes were filled with regret as he led her to a quieter corner. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but I didn’t know how.”

Y/N crossed her arms, her defenses already crumbling. “What is there to talk about? It’s over, Mingi.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’ve stopped caring about you.”

Her breath hitched. “Then why did we let it end?”

“Because we didn’t have a choice,” he said bitterly. “You know how it is in this industry. We’re always busy, always under pressure.”

Tears welled up in her eyes again. “I hate this. I hate that we had to choose our careers over each other.”

Mingi stepped closer, his hands trembling. “I hate it too.”

“Do you still…” Y/N couldn’t finish the question.

“I do,” Mingi said without hesitation. “But I don’t know how to fix this.”

She looked down, tears spilling onto her cheeks. “Neither do I.”

From a distance, the Seventeen members watched closely, ready to intervene if needed. But as Y/N and Mingi continued talking, their tense postures softened.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of everything unsaid hung heavy between them.

“I’m sorry,” Mingi finally said. His eyes searched hers, desperate for understanding. “For everything. For how things ended. For not being there when you needed me.”

Y/N blinked back tears. “You don’t have to apologize. It wasn’t your fault, Mingi. We both knew this wasn’t going to be easy.”

“I know, but—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw. “I hate how it happened. I hate that we let it fall apart.”

Her heart ached at his words, but she forced herself to stay strong. “I do too. But we tried, didn’t we? We gave it everything we had.”

“And it still wasn’t enough,” he muttered bitterly, looking away.

Y/N stepped closer, reaching out to gently touch his arm. “No, it wasn’t. But maybe that’s not a bad thing.”

He turned back to her, confusion in his eyes.

“We needed more time,” she said, her voice steadier now. “More time for ourselves, for our careers. We were so caught up in trying to make it work that we didn’t realize we were hurting ourselves in the process.”

Mingi’s shoulders sagged, and he let out a long sigh. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She took a deep breath, her fingers trembling as she dropped her hand from his arm. “I think we should let this go—for now.”

“For now?” he repeated, his eyes searching hers.

Y/N nodded, her throat tightening. “Not forever. Just until we’re both ready. Until we can give each other what we deserve without feeling like we’re choosing between us and our careers.”

Mingi’s eyes softened as the weight of her words sank in. “You really think we’ll get another chance?”

She gave him a small, sad smile. “I don’t know. But I want to believe that if it’s meant to be, we’ll find our way back to each other.”

His lips pressed into a thin line as he reached out to cup her face gently. “I don’t want to let you go,” he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped down her cheek.

Tears finally spilled freely as she leaned into his touch. “I don’t want to let you go either.”

They stood there for a moment, their breaths uneven, the air heavy with unspoken words. Mingi’s hand lingered on her cheek, his eyes searching hers as if memorizing every detail.

“Can I…” His voice faltered, raw and unsteady. “Can I kiss you? Just one last time?”

Y/N’s heart clenched at the plea in his voice. She swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a small, trembling nod. “Yes.”

He didn’t hesitate. Slowly, almost reverently, he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers with a tenderness that made her knees weak. It wasn’t a desperate kiss or one filled with regret—it was soft, lingering, and full of love.

When they finally pulled away, Mingi rested his forehead against hers, his hands still cradling her face.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with conviction. “No matter how long it takes.”

Fresh tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes, but she managed a fragile smile. “Me too.”

Mingi let out a shaky breath, pressing one last kiss to her forehead before stepping back slowly.

And with those words and that final kiss, they said goodbye—not forever, but for now.

———————-————————————————————

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by all thirteen members. Their eyes were fixed on her, waiting patiently as she gathered her thoughts.

“Okay,” she began, taking a deep breath. “So, I guess you all know now… about me and Mingi.”

There were a few murmurs, but no one interrupted.

“It started about a year ago,” she continued. “At first, it was just… the company pushing us together for PR stuff. But somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling fake.”

She glanced up, gauging their reactions. Most of them looked surprised but not judgmental, which gave her the courage to keep going.

“We tried to keep it a secret, but it got harder as things got serious. I really cared about him—I still do.” Her voice cracked slightly. “But being idols… it’s not easy. We were always busy, always apart.”

She paused, and Seungkwan handed her a tissue. She gave him a grateful smile before continuing.

“We started arguing. Not big fights, just… miscommunication. We kept missing each other’s calls, canceling plans. Eventually, it felt like we were holding each other back instead of supporting each other.”

Wonwoo spoke up. “So you broke up because of the distance?”

Y/N nodded. “And because we didn’t want to resent each other. But it still hurts. A lot.”

DK leaned forward. “What did he say tonight? Did he want to get back together?”

Y/N hesitated, her fingers twisting the tissue in her lap. “Not exactly… but it felt like he wanted to.”

The room fell quiet as they waited for her to continue.

“He asked if he could kiss me,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

A few of the members exchanged glances, but no one interrupted.

“And?” Mingyu finally asked, leaning forward.

“I said yes.” Her cheeks burned slightly, but she kept going. “It wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like… closure. But also like a promise.”

“A promise?” Joshua repeated.

She nodded. “He told me he’d wait for me—no matter how long it takes. And I told him I’d wait too.”

The room was silent again, but this time it felt heavier.

“That’s not really a breakup then,” Vernon said quietly.

“It is,” Y/N replied quickly. “For now. We agreed to let it go, at least until we’re both in a place where we can give each other the time and attention we deserve.”

“But what if that doesn’t happen?” Dino asked, his voice laced with concern.

“Then I guess it wasn’t meant to be,” she said softly. “But I want to believe it is. I have to.”

There was another pause before Jeonghan gently asked, “Do you think you’ll be okay seeing him at events? Working in the same industry?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet. Today was hard, but… having you guys with me made it easier.”

Jun reached over and squeezed her hand gently. “You know… it’s okay to not have all the answers right now.”

She looked up at him, her eyes still glassy. “But what if I never figure it out? What if this feeling doesn’t go away?”

“It will,” Joshua said softly. “Not right away, but eventually. And until it does, we’ll be here to remind you that you don’t have to go through it alone.”

Y/N gave him a weak smile, but her shoulders still sagged under the weight of it all.

Seungkwan leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I think what you did was brave, you know?”

“Brave?” she repeated, almost laughing.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan said firmly. “You could’ve held on and let it get worse, but you didn’t. You let go even though it hurt. That takes courage.”

DK nodded. “And it’s not like you shut the door completely. You both agreed to wait and see what happens later, right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, but what if later never comes?”

“Then you’ll deal with it when the time comes,” Seungcheol said. “But right now, you don’t have to force yourself to let go of what you feel for him. It’s okay to miss him. It’s okay to hope.”

Her eyes welled up again, but this time it wasn’t from sadness—it was relief.

“I just feel like I’m stuck,” she admitted. “Like I don’t know whether to move on or hold on to what we had.”

Jeonghan smiled softly. “Then don’t decide yet. Give yourself time. No one’s rushing you.”

“Except maybe Mingi,” Vernon teased lightly, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N let out a small laugh, and the others joined in. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to lighten the mood.

“Whatever happens,” Minghao said, his voice calm but sure, “you’ll get through it. And if you ever need to cry again, don’t do it alone, okay? Come to us.”

Y/N nodded, looking around at all of them. Their faces were filled with genuine care and support, and for the first time in weeks, she didn’t feel so lost.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “All of you.”

Dino grinned. “That’s what we’re here for. And if he ever messes with you again, just say the word and we’ll handle it.”

The room erupted into laughter, and for the first time that night, Y/N felt like maybe—just maybe—things would be okay.

———————————————————————————-

Later that night, Y/N sat on her bed, replaying the events of the day in her mind. The pain was still there, but so was the warmth of her members’ support.

She didn’t know what the future held—whether she and Mingi would find their way back to each other or not.

But for now, she wasn’t alone.

And that was enough.

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

heyyy, i was thinking maybe ATEEZ reaction to you going to another idol fanmeeting or concert? (i just had this idea of the video they did literally fighting about this HABAHAHA) 🙇‍♀️

Ateez’s reaction to y/n going to other idol’s concerts or fan meeting

Seonghwa

Seonghwa hears about your plans while you’re casually chatting over coffee. At first, he just smiles politely, but his eyes narrow slightly.

“You’re going… where?” he asks, setting his cup down with a deliberate slowness. When you tell him again, he feigns calmness but starts tidying up furiously.

“You’re going to cheer for them? Do they fold their laundry as perfectly as I do? Can they build a model spaceship? I don’t think so.” He huffs dramatically and crosses his arms.

Later that night, he’s pouting in your direction but sneaks in soft glances to see if you’re paying attention to him.

Hongjoong

When you casually mention attending another idol’s fan meeting, Hongjoong freezes mid-task. Slowly, he puts down the notebook he’s been scribbling in.

“Wait,” he says, tilting his head, “so you’re saying… you bought tickets? To someone else’s event?” His tone is deceptively calm, but there’s a sharpness in his gaze.

He’ll act like he doesn’t care, but later you find him trying to write a diss track. “I’m not jealous,” he mutters, “I’m just… creatively inspired by betrayal.”

You catch him googling the other idol group late at night, muttering, “Let’s see what they have that I don’t.”

Yunho

Yunho laughs when you tell him, assuming it’s a joke. But when he realizes you’re serious, his smile falters.

“Wait, are you… cheating on me with another fandom?” He grabs his chest as if wounded. “I thought we had something special!”

Yunho dramatically whines about it all day, but he doesn’t actually get upset. Instead, he keeps cracking jokes like, “Do you think they’re taller than me? Probably not.”

He sends you texts while you’re at the event, including a selfie captioned: Remember who your bias is.

Yeosang

Yeosang’s expression barely changes when you tell him, but his tone betrays his feelings. “Oh? Another idol group? That’s… nice.”

You try to explain it’s just for fun, but he cuts you off with a dry, “No, no, enjoy it. Really. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

He pretends he doesn’t care but gets strangely competitive, suddenly talking about how hard Ateez works and how much he appreciates you.

Later, he casually asks, “So, what did they do that was so great?” but he’s clearly fishing for compliments about himself.

San

When you tell San, his jaw drops, and he gasps as if you’ve just committed a crime.

“You’re going to see them? But what about me? What about us?” He clutches his chest and falls onto the couch dramatically.

San spends the entire day “rehearsing” just to remind you why he’s your ultimate bias. He even performs some over-the-top aegyo, saying, “See? They can’t do it like this.”

When you come back from the event, he greets you with a half-joking pout and asks, “Did you miss me? Did you think about me the whole time?”

Mingi

Mingi looks genuinely confused when you mention your plans. “Wait… but why? Don’t we give you enough content?”

When you explain, he narrows his eyes playfully. “Are you… betraying me? I didn’t think you were that kind of person.”

Mingi spends the next few days randomly asking questions like, “But do they rap as well as me?” He acts hurt, but it’s all for fun.

When you come back, he dramatically says, “Tell me the truth were they cooler than me?”

Wooyoung

Wooyoung immediately reacts like he’s been stabbed. “EXCUSE ME? Another idol fan meeting? Do you think I’ll just let this slide?”

He turns into the playful chaos king, staging mock scenarios where he confronts the other idol group. “Do they know you’re mine?” he says, pretending to argue with an imaginary rival.

Wooyoung makes it his mission to remind you why he’s your favorite, showering you with extra attention. He even threatens to “outperform” the idols at their own concert.

When you get back, he smirks and says, “So, how did it feel to downgrade?”

Jongho

Jongho raises an eyebrow when you tell him, his expression unreadable. “Oh, you’re going to their concert?” he says coolly.

He doesn’t say much at first, but you can tell he’s quietly competitive. He suddenly starts singing around the house more often, his voice extra powerful, as if to remind you of his talent.

When you come back, Jongho nonchalantly asks, “So, were they good?” before casually cracking an apple in half and smirking.

“Just don’t forget who you come home to.”

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

— ๋࣭ ⭑࿐ all yours ｡o♡⋆˚｡⋆.

pairing: park seonghwa x reader

summary: successfully enticing hwa with one more round? less likely than you think.

tags: 「SFW! fluff! | slightly suggestive | drowsy after nap thoughts | cuddles! | kisses kisses | straddling,, | gah he's so pretty in bed | shortest fic on tumblr | reader has no gender」

word count: 0.6k

a/n: sooo we all went crazy after his recent post, right? this is just a quick silly fic for your imaginations because im sooo smitten for hwa lately... this is my first ateez fic! i hope you like it, atiny^^ also i haven't posted in months! sorry about that,, happy new year! might post a quick draft of something to see if anyone is interested, keep an eye out for that! anyways, enjoy!^^

+ stylized lowercase, missing punctuation (not done on purpose), and minimal revisions

"hnggg.." your head followed the noise of a sleepy, drowsy seonghwa just inches away from you on your bed. he has his arms laid out in front of him and was lying on his stomach. the way his body stretched out on the sheets was too perfect. his hands caressing the duvet roughly, grabbing onto the fabric for stability in more stretches. his fingers turning rosy from how hard he was holding on.

his white knitted sweater lifted slightly to reveal his waist, something you could stare at forever. you swore that you caught yourself drooling a little over how good he looked in that moment. your silence was loud to him, causing him to turn his head ever so slightly in your direction.

"what're staring at?" his voice was husky and faint, almost as if he wasn't fully conscious yet. his hair was messy from rolling around in bed. his eyes only half opened, deep and staring intently into you.

"you look so soft, so peaceful and pretty just laying there. it's so unfair how good you always look."

"hmm you're softer!" his words still slow and playful. you turned away for a second, the sun rays peaking through the curtains stung your eyes. this was hwas perfect time to attack.

"h-hey!" you managed to yelp out as he suddenly clung onto your arm. lying on his back now, his body was radiating warmth and his scent was sweet. even after hours of sleeping and moving around, he still managed to attract you in every single way. it's as if you were completely bound to him, ready to take on any command.

"get.. on," he lazily whispered. you began to feel his cool fingers brushing against your waist. you couldn't help but burn up to his touch. not knowing what he was thinking, what he wanted with you next, kept your adrenaline flowing.

"what?" you pushed your arms out of his grasp to look at him from a distance. he opened his eyes properly now, something snapped in him to make his consciousness clear. his gaze flickered between you and his lap.

"come on top of me.. crush me with your comfort," he said as he reached his arms straight out. you couldn't help but chuckle at his strange request. was he really awake yet?

you couldn't help but oblige as soon as your laughter died down. you were straddling seonghwa, being careful to make it as innocent as possible. bellies touching, you wrapped your arms around his neck. resting your cheek against his, you closed your eyes and your body started to melt into him.

the familiar cool fingers of his found themselves around your waist again. slight shivers began to spread all over your body, his touch was enough to drive you crazy.

he noticed this immediately, "shh," he chuckled softly between the coos.

you couldn't take it anymore. both your bodies being pressed up against each other, you could hear the gentle beat of his heart. you could memorize the pace in which he was breathing, slightly hitching at times from the tension. you lifted your head away from his, only to rush into locking yourself on his lips.

sloppy sounds erupted from seonghwa's mouth, slipping out moans of pleasure and need. his hands held your waist tighter, moving them up your torso.

you felt a growing sensation of want in the pit of your stomach. you couldn't possibly go for another round, could you? pulling away from him, you returned to your resting position with your faces touching.

seonghwa hid his face with the back of his hand. the same rosy blush that was shown earlier on his hands was not spread all over his face and neck. you couldn't see it properly but you knew he was always the cutest while being flustered.

"damn... why do you love to tease me?"

all you could do was chuckle lightly, proud that you had him wrapped around your finger.

© nmn-yty ★ 1.16.2025

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

♡10:26♡

Pairing: Bf! Yunho x Fem! Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Warnings: none

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @stay-tiny-things @jaerisdiction @bee-gremlin @gae-ping-boosay @xh01bri @nuggiesnuggetdog04 @buttercup0024 (Join my Taglist here!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Ateez was about to go on tour again. This time they’re finally going to perform in many new cities they’ve never been before. It was exciting to be able to see new Atinys. One of those new cities was San Diego and you when looking at their schedule you noticed something.

The day after Ateez’s concert there, Comic Con will be held!

When you realized this, you knew your boyfriend has to go. So you asked his managers about the in depth schedule and for permission to let him go to the convention.

After going back and forth a little bit, going over how long you can be there, his and your safety etc. You got the green light.

“YUYUUUU!! YUYU! I have a surprise for youuuuu!” You yell out as you run to him when he got home from practice.

“Woah baby?? What’s up?” He asks surprised as he catches you in a hug.

“You’re going to San Diego this tour right??” You ask with a big smile.

“Yeah! Yeah I am. Why??”

“Yes you are! I realized that and realized that.. Comic Con is being held a day after your performance there!! And I just ask your managers for permission and they’re letting you go!” You explain.

“Woah wait really?! Comic Con?? Isn’t it that big convention for like.. marvel, disney, anime and video games??” He asks with wide excited eyes.

“Yuuuuuppp!!! And I cheeecked.. they’re gonna have a panel for the new Spider-Man movie!!!! And saw there’s gonna be a Valorant booth!”

“…I’m so fucking in love with you! Omg thank you thank youuu!!” He exclaims as he picks you up and spins you around.

When he puts you down, he leans down to give you a big kiss.

“You’re welcome baby!! And actually I have one more surprise! Come!”

“More?! Baby you’re spoiling me!”

“Only the best for the love of my life!”

You dragged him to the bedroom and made him sit down. You go to your desk to pick up a box and handed it to him.

“Open!”

He smiles at you before opening the box to reveal an authentic Spider-Man mask, and a Spider-Man hoodie.

“Sweetheart!! Oh my god this is awesome!!!”

“Well my Spider-Man needs a mask! And I think you should wear this when you go to Comic Con!”

“Wait really??”

“Comic con is crowded love.. And while I don’t think most people would recognize you, not that you’re not famous enough! Just.. different demographic yknow.”

“I get it darling.” He cuts you off momentarily to reassure you he understands what you meant.

“I’m saying that the managers told me that you still need to hide your identity out there. And I thought rather than you going in with a plain black mask and a hat. You can wear this!! Dress for the occasion! Like this!” You explained to him before pulling out your phone to show him some casual Spider-Man cosplays that you know would suit (pun not intended) him.

“You’re such a genius! God I couldn’t have asked for a better girlfriend. Thank you so much my love!” He thanks, nothing but pure love and gratitude in his eyes.

“Of course sweetheart!” You reply, giving him a loving kiss.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

It was the day of Comic Con and Yunho couldn’t be more excited. He was absolutely buzzing with excitement in the car ride. You were actually kinda worried he’d be too tired to go since he absolutely killed it at the concert the night before. Yet when you finally arrived he practically leaped out of the car.

You had nothing to worry about.

“I’ll pick you up in a couple of hours.” His manager said.

“Got it!” You giggled as you hoped out to chase after him.

You almost lost him since there were a few Spider-Man cosplayers but you did eventually catch up to him.

“Omg Yuyu calm down!” You giggle.

“I’m just excited!” He exclaimed.

“I know baby.” You laughed.

“Thank you again for this surprise! It really means the world to me!”

You simply smiled up at him, lifting up his mask and giving him a soft kiss.

He smiled back before pulling down his mask and pulling you closer to him.

Comic con will be comic con! It was absolutely packed so Yunho always made sure you were right next to him. Holding your hand or waist tightly to make sure you two don’t get separated.

Walking around you both were amazed by all the cosplayers and booths. You two splurged a little and bought some merch of all of your favorite franchises. You even got to meet and take pictures with some Youtubers and streamers that were there. It was really so fun.

And actually to your surprise some people wanted to take pictures with you too.

Since of course today you decided to dress up as well. So while Yunho went as Spider-Man you went as your favorite character. It was a very simple costume but very recognizable like Yunho’s. It was also an experience for Yunho when people wanted his photo for the first time ever not as Yunho from Ateez but as Spider-Man.

“Wow love, I didn’t realize you’d be more famous than me here.” Yunho chuckles after another person asked for your photo.

“Well what can I say? I guess I’m just irreeesistableee!” You giggle. (5 points to anyone who gets this reference)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“Phew, this mask gets hot after a while.” Yunho chuckles taking off his mask while you two were sitting down, waiting for the Marvel Studios panel.

“I can imagine.” You say as you gave him a water bottle and wiped off some of his sweat for him.

“Thank you darling.” He smiles, giving you a kiss before taking a sip.

Soon enough the panel started and you both were thoroughly hyped and entertained throughout the entire thing. Yunho almost jumped out of his seat and fell when they announced what the new Spider-Man movie was gonna be, the release date and who was gonna be in it.

“Oh We’re SOOOOO watching this movie!” He exclaimed.

You could really only giggle at his antics.

Once the panel was over you knew you were gonna get picked up soon. So when in the far distance you finally saw the Valorant booth you grabbed your boyfriend by the hoodie and dragged him there.

He was so confused but let you do it anyway. And when he finally saw the booth he was so fuckin floored. He then picked you up and sprinted to the booth.

“OMG Yuyu put me doooown!”

“WE HAVE NO TIME!”

He eventually did put you down to look around and of course splurge on more merch. You stood behind him as he did this and you just had the biggest smile.

You always love how giddy your boyfriend gets when it comes to his hobbies and interests. It’s just a delight and an adorable sight. If Spider-Man right now had a tail it’d be wagging so bad.

Soon his manager gave you the call.

It was time to leave as he had another show in two days and he needed to rest. He honestly didn’t want to leave yet but he knew he had to. So hand in hand you two left the building and got into the managers car. Once inside you two felt the exhaustion actually.

Yunho eventually did fall asleep on the way to the hotel, you had to take off his mask for him. Once back in the hotel and in the comforts of your room, you both got ready for an early night in.

“Thank you again for this day baby. It meant so much.”

“Anything Spidey.” You giggle giving him a kiss before snuggling closer.

“I mean it though. I had the best day, and it’s all thanks to you.” He smiled.

“I know sweetie, I had a blast too.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more.”

The next day, Yunho actually posted about his day at Comic Con on his IG and to Ateez’s twitter to the surprise of many.

They were FREAKING out. ‘Cause not only did Yunho look hella fine as Spider-Man. It made a few Atiny realized that they actually met Yunho at there and had a photo with him. It was so funny and adorable seeing Atiny’s reaction to it.

Safe to say Spidey-Yunho was a hit.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2025

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

The Paradox of Us

Pairing: Seonghwa x fem!reader

AU: non-idol au

Word Count: 8.1k

Summary: Relationships are rarely as simple as they seem. It becomes heartbreakingly complicated when two souls, bound by a love that still burns bright, come to realise that sometimes, love alone may not be enough to keep them together.

A/N: Seonghwa's 踊り子 (odoriko) cover has been on repeat since the moment it came out. I couldn't get it out of my mind and just knew I'd never forgive myself if I didn't write anything inspired by it.

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"I don't love you."

Strangely, those words would have been easier to bear. But instead, you heard the ones that shattered you in ways you never thought possible: "I love you so much... but we can't go on like this anymore."

The ache was unbearable, as if your heart was tearing itself apart with every replay of his broken voice in your mind. You would have preferred if he had said his love had faded, that the spark was gone. At least then, you could grieve, accept, and move forward. But no—he still loved you. Deeply. And that cruel truth left you stuck in a purgatory of emotions, unable to let go.

Yet, you understood him. You always did. And perhaps that was the most painful part of all—knowing he was right. You had felt it too, this growing divide neither of you could bridge. But you hadn't been brave enough to say it aloud, to admit that love wasn't enough to hold together two people who simply weren't meant to be.

So, he said it for you. And now, all you had was the emptiness of what could have been, and the love that would never quite fade.

"It'll be alright, sweetie. Time heals everything," your mother murmured, her hand gently rubbing your back as you blinked away tears and refused to meet her gaze. Her tone was soft, even comforting, but you couldn't stand it—not when she sat there pretending she hadn't played a pivotal role in this heartbreak. You could almost feel her satisfaction simmering beneath the surface, hidden behind her facade of concern. After all, hadn't she always believed he would never measure up? That he was never good enough for you?

You hated it—hated her.

Hated how she had turned your relationship with him into a battlefield, her disapproval so loud, so ever-present, that it became impossible for him to feel at home in your life. How dare she sit beside you now, feigning sorrow, when her constant criticisms had planted the seed of doubt that grew into the conclusion you dreaded? How dare she, of all people, offer comfort when she had made you believe that love—your greatest love—wasn't enough?

Her words echoed in your mind, the ones she'd repeated time and time again: "Love and compatibility aren't the same. Love is powerful, yes, but relationships are more than just feelings—they require shared values, aligned goals, and practical compatibility." She had said it so often that it became a mantra, one you tried to ignore until it became impossible.

And then there was him.

You hated him too—hated him for giving in, for not fighting harder, for agreeing with everyone else. For being too selfless, too considerate, too good. He'd always told you, "Family comes first. Everything else—including me—comes second." You hated that he meant it. Hated that he let you go because he believed it was the right thing to do, the thing that would hurt the least.

But most of all, you hated yourself.

Hated yourself for knowing, deep down, that they were all right. That maybe love really wasn't enough. You hated yourself for being too afraid to defy them, too afraid to risk it all for him. While he was brave enough to let you go, and your mother was relentless in her convictions, you had been the coward. You let everyone else make the choice for you because you couldn't bear to make it yourself.

And now, you were left with nothing but the bitter aftertaste of what-ifs and the haunting ache of knowing you had lost not because you didn't love enough, but because you hadn't been brave enough to fight for that love.

"The right person will come along," she said softly. You pressed your eyes shut, swallowing the lump rising in your throat. Without another word, you pushed yourself up from the dining chair, leaving your barely touched meal behind, and headed to your room.

Before you could step through the door, her voice followed you, cutting through the air like a knife. "You'll thank me one day when you meet a man who can give you all the things that boy never could."

Your fists clenched as you slammed the door shut behind you. Sliding down to the floor with your back against the wood, you let her words fester. Maybe she was right. You weren't getting any younger. Around you, friends and cousins were all settling down with partners your mother would call 'suitable.' And you hated it—hated that, in her eyes, Seonghwa could never be that person for you.

But then, the thought struck: you were your mother's daughter. How much of this was truly her fault? At some point, hadn't you begun to believe her? Slowly, insidiously, her words had taken root in your mind. You did this. To him, to yourself.

You remembered watching others build their perfect, storybook lives with partners who ticked every box society demanded. And you wondered—quietly at first, then louder—if you and Seonghwa could ever achieve the same. Could he be that for you? Could you be that for him?

It wasn't fair. Not to him, not to you. You hated yourself for the way doubt crept in, for how your mother's voice echoed in your head, pointing out the cracks and differences you had tried so hard to ignore. You hated yourself for wishing things could be different, for swallowing those thoughts because you loved him too much to ask him to change. He was who he was—his own person.

How could you ask him to mould himself into someone your mother would approve of? Someone society deemed 'right' for you? And if he did, would he even be the man you fell in love with?

It was those questions, those doubts, that began to live rent-free in your mind. Bit by bit, they widened the gap between you. And Seonghwa wasn't blind. He saw it. He felt it.

"You deserve someone better—someone who can give you so much more," he had said that final night, his voice breaking under the weight of goodbye.

It was your fault—your doubts, your actions, your silence. They had pushed him to that conclusion. And now, as the door behind you trembled with your suppressed sobs, you wondered: How dare you blame your mother for what you had done to him? To yourself?

How dare you?

"Gaming at San's place next, you coming?" Wooyoung asked, tossing a napkin onto the table as everyone scrambled to leave. The ridiculous game they'd invented—where the last one to leave had to pay the bill—had everyone laughing and darting for the exit.

Seonghwa's smile barely touched his lips as he shook his head and reached for his wallet. "Go on with them. I'll cover it."

The younger man hesitated, glancing at him before blurting out, "Dude, you can't always give in like this. Your poor financial planning skills are exactly why she left you."

The table fell silent, the air suddenly heavy. Wooyoung's grin faltered as he realised what he'd said, too late to take it back. Seonghwa didn't flinch outwardly, but the words sliced deep because they were true. Partly, at least.

It wasn't like he made much, not compared to the rest of his friends with their steady corporate jobs. And yet, he wasn't careful with what little he had. You had always been the one saving, planning, building a future he could barely contribute to. People his age were buying cars, investing in property, making strides toward a stable life. But he wasn't like them. He had chased his passion as a figurine crafter—a dream that didn't come with a steady paycheck—and he'd known the risks. Your mother was right: you deserved someone who could offer you the stability he never could.

"Hey, man," Wooyoung said quickly, guilt colouring his tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I got the bill already, so don't worry about it. Just come with us tonight, yeah? Relax a little."

But the eldest only gave a faint shake of his head. The apology didn't soften the truth of the remark. He was the reason things fell apart. Not because he didn't love you enough—he loved you too much—but because love wasn't enough.

He'd failed you. Failed to provide the kind of life you deserved. He couldn't believe you'd even agreed to be with him in the first place, so different were your worlds. Your family background, your education, your values, your ambitions—they all set you apart. He had nothing to offer someone like you. And yet, he had been selfish enough to hold on, to want you despite knowing he could never measure up.

He should have worked harder. Should have tried to step up and be the man you needed. But he hadn't, because deep down, he knew he couldn't. Perhaps he had always known it wouldn't last. That one day, you'd wake up and realise the same.

You didn't leave right away. You stayed longer than he deserved. And when you finally began pulling away, when the signs became impossible to ignore, he had to let go. It wasn't courage that made him end it—it was inevitability.

"Come with us, hyung," Wooyoung tried again, his voice gentler this time.

But Seonghwa shook his head once more. "You guys go ahead without me. I... I have somewhere to be."

It was a lie, and they all knew it. He had nowhere to be. Nowhere that mattered, at least. Just his empty apartment, where the echoes of your absence would greet him like old, familiar ghosts.

He didn't care if they saw through the lie. What mattered was that he deserved this—the loneliness, the self-pity, the regret. He had almost broken you apart from your family because he was selfish enough to believe his love was enough. He had almost stolen your future because he couldn't face the truth.

But now, it was over. You had given him the courage to do what was right in the end. He was grateful for that. Grateful you'd started pulling away. Grateful you'd given him the signs. Grateful you'd broken his heart with the words he couldn't bear to say himself.

It's time.

Time to stop pretending.

Time to let you go.

Time to let the misery end.

Yes, let it all go. Let the misery end.

He repeated the words in his head like a chant as he drove, gripping the steering wheel tighter with each mile. The familiar streets blurred past him, their lights shimmering in his tear-filled eyes. He swiped at his face with his sleeve, but the tears kept coming, warm and unrelenting. He hated himself for it. Hated that, even now, he could almost see you sitting beside him, your laughter echoing faintly in his memory.

These night drives had been your sanctuary. Just you and him, wrapped in the quiet of the world, as if nothing else mattered. Not the expectations, not the disapproving glances, not the relentless whispers about how you two didn't belong together. It had always been just you and him against everything.

But now, it was just him.

He didn't dare glance at the passenger seat. He couldn't bear the sight of its emptiness, couldn't face the truth of your absence. His mind played cruel tricks on him, filling the silence with phantom conversations, fleeting glimpses of your smile.

Everything around him reminded him of you. The way the streetlights hit the pavement, the faint smell of your favourite perfume lingering in his car, the songs on the radio you'd sing along to when you thought he wasn't paying attention. He wanted to escape it, but he knew going home would only make it worse.

Home.

The word felt hollow now. How could it be home when you weren't there? Every corner of that apartment held traces of you—the books you'd stacked neatly on the shelf, the coffee mug you always left on the counter, the sheets that still carried the faintest scent of your shampoo. He knew he should let those remnants go, pack them away, make it easier to move on. But the thought of erasing you felt like losing you all over again.

As the weight of it all pressed down on him, he slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. His hands trembled as he rested his forehead against the steering wheel, the cool leather grounding him for just a moment.

Is this hurting you too?

He wondered if you were struggling as much as he was. Part of him selfishly hoped you were, that you missed him the way he missed you. But another part—the part that loved you more than he loved himself—hoped you were finding peace. Hoped you were happier without him, that his decision to let you go had given you the chance to find the stability, the life, you deserved.

Clutching a hand to his chest, he finally let the tears fall freely. The ache in his heart felt unbearable, like a piece of him had been ripped away and might never grow back. Would he ever be okay again? Would he ever know happiness without you?

He didn't know.

He wasn't sure he wanted to. But he told himself, over and over, that this was the right thing to do. It didn't matter if he was happy. It didn't matter if he felt whole again. All that mattered was you. And as he sat there, broken and lost, he prayed you were finding the happiness he couldn't give you, even if it meant he would never find it again.

It's okay... she'll find the right person now.

The right person. Who even decided what that meant? Who had the authority to label someone as right or wrong for you?

Maybe it was the lingering ache for Park Seonghwa, the way his name still carried the weight of memories you hadn't yet learned to let go. Or maybe it was the frustration bubbling inside you, resentment toward your parents for tricking you into meeting this man—the son of your father's business partner—the one they couldn't stop praising.

Jung Yunho, the perfect man, as they called him. He was everything they'd ever wanted for you, a textbook example of stability, charm, and success. But the problem wasn't him. It was you. You weren't ready, not yet. Maybe not ever. Years had passed since the breakup, but the ghost of what you had with Seonghwa still clung to you, a shadow that even time couldn't chase away.

"Hey," Yunho's voice pulled you back from your spiralling thoughts. His gaze, warm and sincere, met yours as he leaned in slightly. "You feeling alright?"

Caught off guard, you glanced down at your untouched plate of steak and managed a small nod. "I'm fine, don't worry about me."

But he didn't look convinced. Instead, his lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile—the kind that could probably disarm anyone, just not you. "How could I not, when such a pretty lady is sulking before me?" he teased gently. Before you could reply, he reached across the table, taking your plate without hesitation. "Here, let me help you."

With careful precision, he began cutting the steak into neat, bite-sized pieces. The gesture was so thoughtful, so kind, and yet it left you feeling hollow. It wasn't the act itself—it was the way it lacked the weight of familiarity.

Seonghwa used to do the same thing, but it had always been different with him. He'd grumble playfully about how you'd never learn to do it yourself, though he never minded doing it for you. His hands were smaller, more delicate, and you'd always find yourself staring at the faint scars from his crafts. Yunho's hands, while steady and practised, didn't hold the same history.

"All done," Yunho said cheerfully, sliding the plate back to you. "Now you have no excuse not to eat."

You forced a polite smile, murmuring a quiet "thank you" as you picked up your fork. Yunho didn't seem to notice the distant look in your eyes, or perhaps he was kind enough not to point it out.

He was wonderful. Thoughtful, patient, and sincere. By all accounts, he was the right person. But as you sat there, forcing yourself to chew, you couldn't help but wonder:

What if the right person wasn't the one who checked all the boxes? What if they were the one who didn't, but still felt like home?

The rest of the night crawled by like a snail, every passing second stretching unbearably long. You shifted in your seat, wishing you were anywhere but here. Yunho was a great guy—attentive, charming, and genuinely kind. But that only made it worse. He deserved someone who could meet his enthusiasm with equal fervour, someone who didn't have her mind wandering to someone else entirely.

You sighed quietly, pushing your barely touched drink to the side. What the hell was wrong with you? This was what you'd agreed to, wasn't it? This was what you'd sacrificed so much for. Years ago, you walked away from the love of your life because it felt like the right thing to do, to pursue the kind of stability and compatibility everyone insisted was more important than love alone. And now here it was, right in front of you.

The right person.

Yet, as you glanced at Jung Yunho's radiant smile, so effortlessly warm, the thought of spending the rest of your life with him felt less like the happy ending you'd envisioned and more like a cage. A beautiful, gilded cage that offered everything a woman could ever ask for—security, stability, admiration. Everything except the one thing your heart still longed for.

All you could ever find inside yourself was the same man you'd tried so hard to let go of.

Park Seonghwa.

Your chest tightened at the thought of him, your mind betraying you with memories you'd worked so hard to bury. You wondered how he was doing, though it wasn't as if you hadn't heard. Mutual friends kept you updated more than you cared to admit, their words painting glimpses of a life that no longer included you.

You'd heard he was finally making progress with his work, his passion—the very thing you'd once defended but later doubted. He'd opened a small store, modest but filled with so much of himself. It sold various collectable art pieces: action figures, miniatures for tabletop games, and custom character figurines crafted with meticulous care. Fans of Star Wars and Animal Crossing flocked to him, drawn to the detail and love that radiated from every piece he touched.

And you were proud of him. God, you were so proud of him.

He'd stayed true to himself, despite all the judgement, all the whispers about how he'd never make it, how he'd never be good enough. He'd proved them wrong. He'd built something meaningful, something entirely his own. You were happy for him, truly, but beneath that happiness lay an ache you couldn't ignore. You regretted not being there to witness it, to cheer for him when he finally achieved what he'd always dreamed of.

But maybe that wasn't what he wanted. For all you knew, he'd moved on, found someone who stayed by his side through all the highs and lows. Someone who loved him openly and without reservation, who didn't make him feel like he'd never measure up.

Or maybe he hadn't. Maybe he'd sworn off love entirely after the way things ended between you two.

Either way, you couldn't blame him. You wouldn't blame him. Not after the pain you'd both endured.

Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. "Is... everything okay? You've been quiet tonight." His concern was genuine, his eyes soft with worry, but you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"I'm fine," you lied, forcing a smile that didn't reach your eyes.

But deep down, you knew you weren't fine. And you didn't know if you ever would be.

"How much for that one?"

The tiny voice drew Seonghwa's attention, and he glanced down at the little girl standing on tiptoes, her small finger pointing eagerly at the figurine encased behind the counter. It was the only one displayed under glass, like a prized treasure—and in a way, it was.

He hummed, his eyes softening as he turned to look at the figure in question. The Kuromi figurine sat proudly on the top shelf, right next to the LED sign that glowed softly with his store's name: Star Mars. The design was intricate, every detail was carefully crafted with love and precision.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he said gently, crouching slightly to meet her gaze. "That one's not for sale. It's reserved for someone very special."

The little girl pouted, her lips forming a perfect curve of disappointment, and his heart melted a little. But no amount of adorable pouting—or even persuasive whining—could ever convince him to sell it.

That Kuromi figurine wasn't just a piece of art; it was a promise, a memory frozen in time. It was one of the first figurines he'd perfected, the culmination of years of practice and the relentless pursuit of his passion. He'd made it as a gift for you—his favourite girl.

It still is yours, if only you wanted it.

The child's father stepped forward, lifting her into his arms as he gave Seonghwa an apologetic bow. "Don't worry about her, Mr. Park. I'll convince her to go with the Isabelle one instead."

Seonghwa chuckled softly, standing upright as he waved off the father's concern. "No problem at all. Isabelle's a great choice," he said, though his eyes lingered briefly on the Kuromi figurine.

As the father and daughter moved on to browse the other displays, Seonghwa found himself lost in thought. He didn't display that piece out of pride or for show—it was there because it reminded him of you. Of the nights you'd spend sitting cross-legged on the floor of his studio, playfully teasing him about his obsession with getting every detail just right.

"She looks like you," he'd said when he showed it to you for the first time. You'd laughed, brushing it off, but the glint of affection in your eyes told him you secretly loved the comparison.

He'd planned to give it to you on your birthday, but the timing never felt right. And then, before he knew it, you were gone.

The bell above the door jingled, the familiar sound slicing through the haze of his thoughts and yanking him back to the present. He straightened up, plastering on the polite smile he reserved for customers, though the weight in his chest never eased.

"Good evening! Welcome to…" His voice faltered mid-sentence, the words catching in his throat as his entire world screeched to a halt.

There you were.

It had been years, but time seemed to melt away the moment his eyes landed on you. You stood there in the soft glow of his store lights, more beautiful than he remembered—if that were even possible. Your silk dress shimmered gently with each subtle movement, an elegant coat draped effortlessly over your shoulders. The once long hair he used to run his fingers through was now cropped to your shoulders, framing your face in a way that made you look older, wiser—but still you.

Even after all this time, his heart betrayed him. It thundered in his chest, each beat screaming your name. He clenched his fist tightly at his side, willing himself to stay rooted where he stood. Every fibre of his being ached to run to you, to close the distance, but he couldn't. He shouldn't.

Slowly, shakily, he mustered a smile, though it felt like his heart might burst from the sheer force of its racing. Then, to his astonishment—and heartbreak—you returned it. A soft, familiar curve of your lips that nearly undid him.

But then, it fell apart.

The moment shattered as a tall, striking man stepped in behind you. He moved with easy confidence, his presence commanding attention as if the universe itself had tilted slightly to make room for him. Without hesitation, his hand found its way to your shoulder, resting there with an ease that spoke of familiarity.

"See anything you like?" the man asked, his deep voice carrying the warmth of intimacy as he looked down at you.

You blinked, startled, as if shaken from a dream. "Oh… I was just…" Your voice trailed off as your gaze flicked back to your ex-boyfriend, lingering for a moment longer than it should have.

Seonghwa's smile faltered, but he quickly schooled his expression, burying the ache that clawed at his chest. He nodded politely, forcing himself to focus on the customer standing in front of him—the both of you.

The Kuromi figurine sat silently on its shelf, bathed in soft light, waiting for a moment that might never come. The air inside the store suddenly felt stifling. Seonghwa stood behind the counter, his hands gripping its edge like it was the only thing keeping him grounded.

"Welcome to Star Mars," he said, his voice steady but his smile trembling under the weight of emotions. He forced it wider, hoping it would mask the whirlwind within. "It's been a while. How have you been?" His heart clenched as the words left his mouth. He wanted to sound casual, as though you were just another customer, but he couldn't. You weren't just anyone. You never had been.

You gave him a hesitant smile, one that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I've been good. How about you?"

Before he could answer, the man beside you—tall, broad-shouldered, and exuding warmth—stepped forward, his curiosity evident. "Oh, you two know each other? What a small world!" His voice was friendly, his smile sincere, and Seonghwa's chest tightened further.

He should feel relief. This man, presumably your boyfriend—or worse, your fiancé—seemed perfect for you. He was everything Seonghwa had wanted for you when he stepped away, believing he could never give you the life you deserved. And yet, it felt like the ground was crumbling beneath him.

You cleared your throat, shifting uncomfortably. "Yes, this is Seonghwa. He's... an old friend of mine."

Old friend. The words landed like a punch to his stomach, but he kept his composure.

The man extended a hand toward him, his smile unwavering. "I'm Yunho. It's nice to meet you! Next time my nieces and nephews need new toys, I'll know who to come to."

Seonghwa took his hand, shaking it firmly while managing a polite smile. "Nice to meet you too." His gaze flickered back to you, catching the way you avoided meeting his eyes.

As if on cue, Yunho's phone buzzed in his pocket, and he excused himself, stepping outside to take the call. For the first time since you'd entered, the air felt heavy with unspoken words.

You turned back to your ex, your eyes meeting his briefly before dropping to the counter. "Congratulations... Seonghwa," you whispered, his name falling from your lips like a fragile memory. "It's good to see how far you've come."

He nodded slowly, his smile softer now, though the ache in his eyes remained. "Thank you. And... congratulations to you as well," he said, glancing toward the window where Yunho stood. "He seems amazing."

The kindness in his tone made it hurt even more.

"No," you blurted, shaking your head. "He's not... we're just... friends. I don't..." Your words faltered, your voice trembling. "I'm not with anyone."

His brows lifted in surprise, but he stayed silent, his lips pressed into a thin line. You wished he'd say something, anything, but the way his eyes softened, brimming with a mix of emotions—relief, hesitation, and something deeper—was answer enough.

Your breath hitched when your gaze landed on the figurine behind him. Kuromi. Encased in glass, displayed on the highest shelf. You remembered the countless hours he'd spent perfecting it, the way he'd proudly shown you the finished piece.

He still kept it.

Before you could find the courage to ask why, Yunho reappeared, his presence cutting through the tension like a blade. "Hey, sorry to cut your little catch-up session short, but something urgent came up at work, and I—"

Seonghwa straightened, his polite smile snapping back into place. "Of course, don't let me keep you."

Your heart sank as he turned to you, bowing slightly. "It was nice seeing you again."

You forced a smile, though your chest ached with everything left unsaid. "It was nice seeing you too."

As you followed Yunho out, you couldn't resist glancing back one last time. Your eyes met Seonghwa's, and in that fleeting moment, it felt as though a thousand words passed between you.

Regret. Longing. Love.

The bell above the door jingled again as you stepped out, your heart heavy with the weight of the encounter. Yunho was quiet as he drove, his hands steady on the wheel. The silence between you felt thick, almost suffocating, but you didn't know what to say. How could you explain the whirlwind of emotions raging inside you without sounding selfish or ungrateful?

"It's him, isn't it?" Yunho's voice broke through your thoughts, soft but resolute.

Your head snapped toward him, your heart pounding in panic. "What… what do you mean?" you stammered, the guilt already clawing its way to the surface.

He sighed, pulling the car to a gentle stop in front of your home. Turning to face you, he gave you a small, knowing smile. "The man from the store. Park Seonghwa, right? He's the one you've been thinking about all night. Tell me if I'm wrong."

Your breath caught, your hands fumbling with the seatbelt as you tried to come up with a response. But the look in his eyes told you that lying wasn't an option. "I…" You paused, finally managing to unfasten the seatbelt, but your words seemed caught in your throat. "I'm sorry, Yunho. I didn't mean for this to happen."

He leaned back with a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You don't have to apologise. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I knew from the beginning that you weren't exactly thrilled about this arrangement, but I still went along with it, hoping… I don't know, that maybe something would change."

You felt tears sting your eyes, and you turned away, unable to meet his gaze. "You deserve better than this," you whispered, your voice trembling.

"Hey." He reached out, his hand covering yours with a comforting warmth. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, you turned back to him, your vision blurred with unshed tears.

"You don't owe me anything," he said gently. "This… whatever this was supposed to be, it wouldn't have worked if both of us weren't fully in it. And that's okay. You know why?"

You shook your head, your voice barely audible. "Why?"

"Because this decision—choosing who you want to be with—it's for you, not for your parents, not for me, and certainly not for anyone else. It should never be about what people think or what they want. It's your life. Live it for yourself."

His words struck you like a bolt of lightning, unravelling years of self-doubt and regret. He was right. How had you allowed yourself to be swept up in everyone else's expectations, losing sight of what truly mattered to you?

You sat back in your seat, letting his words sink in, feeling a strange mix of guilt and liberation. After a long moment, you nodded, your voice steadier now. "Thank you, Yunho. For everything."

He smiled, his eyes kind and understanding. "Go on," he said, tilting his head toward your house. "And don't let fear hold you back this time."

As you stepped out of the car, his words echoed in your mind, igniting a spark of courage you hadn't felt in years.

You turned back, watching as Yunho drove away, his figure disappearing into the night. And for the first time in a long time, you felt a sliver of clarity.

It wasn't too late. You still had a choice to make. And this time, you'd make it for yourself.

The shop was quiet now, save for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and the occasional rustle of paper as Seonghwa meticulously wrapped the Isabelle and Grogu figurines the pair of father and daughter finally agreed on getting. His movements were precise, his focus seemingly sharp, but his mind was elsewhere—stuck on the brief yet piercing encounter that had just walked out of his life again.

"That Kuromi one… it's for the pretty lady earlier, isn't it?"

The father's voice broke through Seonghwa's haze, and his hands froze briefly before resuming their task. He didn't look up, focusing instead on folding the edges of the wrapping paper with unnecessary care. "You might be right," he said after a pause, his voice quieter than intended. "But it doesn't matter if it is."

The man tilted his head, a subtle frown forming as he cradled his daughter closer. "And why's that? It clearly still means a lot to you both."

Seonghwa finally glanced up, forcing a polite smile, though it faltered almost immediately. "You saw it yourself... she's with someone else. Someone better." The words tasted bitter as they left his mouth, laced with a resignation he didn't quite believe in.

The man sighed, shifting the little girl in his arms so she could hold her new Grogu figurine. He regarded your ex with a look that felt far too knowing. "I also saw how she looked at you," he said softly. "And she didn't look like someone who's better off."

Seonghwa blinked, caught off guard, but the customer wasn't finished. His gaze drifted toward the cute purple figurine that was not for sale, and for a moment, his expression softened into something fragile—something etched with pain.

"You know," he began, his voice dropping to a near whisper, "my wife used to love Sanrio too. She had this little Cinnamoroll keychain she carried everywhere." He chuckled faintly, the sound bittersweet. "I always thought I'd have more time to make her smile, to give her the little things that made her happy. But time doesn't wait for anyone. One day, it was just… gone."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air, and Seonghwa felt something tighten in his chest.

The man glanced at him then, his eyes filled with a quiet intensity that seemed to pierce through Seonghwa's carefully built walls. "I don't know what's between you and her, Mr Park. But I do know this: regret is a heavy thing to carry. Don't let it weigh you down, not if you can still do something about it."

He gave Seonghwa a small, sad smile, the kind of smile that spoke of lessons learned too late, before taking the bag of purchased items. "Sometimes, all it takes is one step in the right direction. Don't let the chance slip away."

And then he was gone, the bell above the door jingling faintly as father and daughter disappeared into the night.

Seonghwa stood motionless behind the counter, his gaze drifting back to the Kuromi figurine in its glass case. The light reflected off it, casting faint shadows on the shelf behind it. It was meant for you. It had always been for you.

The father's words replayed in his mind, unrelenting in their simplicity and truth. He leaned against the counter, his eyes fixed on the figurine made just for you, but his thoughts were elsewhere—back to you, back to all the moments that had led to this one.

Back then, he'd convinced himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could find the happiness he didn't think he could give you. He thought he was being selfless, noble even, sacrificing his own heart so you could find someone better—someone who deserved you. But now, the cracks in that logic were glaringly obvious. What had any of this accomplished? Neither of you had found happiness in the way he'd hoped.

The truth was harsh: he hadn't even tried. He hadn't fought to be better for you, to grow into someone worthy of your love. Instead, he'd accepted the version of himself the world seemed to see—a man with dreams too small and ambitions too impractical. He'd let himself believe that you deserved someone like Yunho, someone who fit the mould of what your parents and society thought was 'right.'

But things were different now. He wasn't that man anymore. He'd worked hard, not for anyone else but for himself. Every step he'd taken to build his store, every figurine he'd crafted with his own hands, every small milestone he'd achieved—it was proof that he could create something meaningful. And if he could do that, maybe he could create a life with you.

His heart clenched at the thought of you with Yunho, not because he doubted the man's worth, but because he knew Yunho could never hold your heart the way he still did. Yunho was everything society said you should want—stable, charming, perfect on paper. But love wasn't about paper. Love was about the way you used to light up whenever he showed you his newest creation, about the quiet nights you'd spent talking about everything and nothing, about the way your hand had always felt right in his.

Suddenly, the idea of the 'right person' seemed so absurd. There was no such thing. The right person wasn't someone who ticked all the boxes. The right person was the one you chose to love, again and again, flaws and all.

And you had chosen him once.

The real question now was whether you still would.

He straightened, his resolve hardening like molten metal cooling into steel. What kind of love was it if he could stand by and watch you settle for less than what you deserved? Not less in status or wealth, but less in the kind of happiness that made life worth living. What kind of love let you spend the rest of your days with someone who could never truly make your heart race?

Seonghwa wouldn't let that happen—not if he could help it.

His gaze lingered on the Kuromi figurine one last time before he moved toward the back room. He needed to think, to plan, to figure out how to tell you everything he should have said years ago.

If there was even the slightest chance that you still felt the same way, he would take it. Because this time, he wasn't letting fear or pride or anyone else's expectations get in the way.

This time, he was going to fight for you.

"Well...? Aren't you going to ask me how it went?" you asked, your voice sharp, as you stepped into the house. Your mother flinched, bowing her head slightly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her apron. She hesitated for a moment before coming up to you slowly, her eyes brimming with guilt.

"Yunho called," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "He said he wishes not to force you."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, devoid of any humour. "Of course, it took an outsider's words for you to finally see how exhausting this has been for me," you said, your tone cutting. "All this talk about marriage, about finding the right man... who is it really for? Who am I doing this for, hm? Is it for my own happiness? Or... oh, right." You smiled grimly. "It never was about my happiness, was it? It was about keeping up appearances, about pleasing everyone but me."

Your mother's face crumpled as her gaze fell to the floor. The weight of your words hung heavy in the air, thick with unspoken truths.

Your father, who had been sitting silently at the dining table, let out a long, weary sigh. He leaned forward, clasping his hands together as though trying to steady himself. "We thought we were doing what was best for you," he said, his voice low, burdened with regret. "We thought... if we guided you toward someone like Yunho, we were ensuring a future where you'd be safe, secure."

"Safe?" you repeated, your voice breaking. "From what? From being myself? From choosing the person who actually makes me happy? You never trusted me to make my own decisions. You never thought I was capable of knowing what I want, what I need."

Your mother reached for your hand, her touch tentative. "It wasn't like that," she said, though her voice wavered. "We were scared. Scared that you'd make a mistake, scared that you'd regret it later, scared that—"

"You mean you were scared," you interrupted, pulling your hand back. "Scared of what people would say. Scared of what the neighbours, the relatives, society would think. But you never stopped to ask me what I thought. What I felt."

Tears glistened in her eyes now, spilling over as she shook her head. "You're right," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You're absolutely right. We were selfish. We thought we knew better, but we didn't. We never meant to hurt you, but we see now that we did. We hurt you by not listening, by not trusting you."

Your father stood, his movements deliberate, his face sombre. "If he's the one you want, if he's the one who makes you happy, then we'll support you. No more pushing, no more trying to control your life. It's your choice. It always should've been your choice."

For a moment, the room fell silent. The tension that had loomed for so long finally began to dissipate, leaving behind a tentative sense of relief.

You inhaled shakily, the weight in your chest lifting just a little. It wasn't a perfect resolution—there was still so much to work through—but this was a start. A start you'd been longing for. "Thank you," you said softly, the words fragile but sincere. "Thank you for finally understanding."

And as your mother pulled you into a trembling embrace, you allowed yourself to hope that things could finally change. She smiled softly, brushing a hand against your cheek as if to assure you it was okay now. Your father stood behind her, his expression a mixture of pride and something deeper—perhaps the weight of finally letting go.

They exchanged a glance before your father nodded toward the door. "Go," he said quietly, his voice firm but warm. "Go where your heart tells you to. We'll always be here."

You blinked, stunned by their words, and for a moment, you couldn't move. But then, the weight in your chest lifted, replaced by an urgency that made your pulse race. Without another word, you turned and rushed out, barely remembering to grab your keys on the way.

Your car roared to life as you sped through the streets, your destination clear as day in your mind. Star Mars. The silly name you'd suggested in passing all those years ago, never imagining he'd actually use it. Your heart pounded harder with every turn, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Would he still want you after all this time? Did it matter? Even if he didn't, you needed him to know. You needed to tell him how you felt—how you still felt.

Parking haphazardly in front of his store, you didn't waste a second before bolting toward it. But as you reached the doors, your heart sank. The store was dark, the lights off, the doors locked. "Closed" hung starkly on the door, though the shops around it buzzed with life.

You froze, staring through the glass, confusion and dread pooling in your stomach. It's not even closing time yet... Had seeing you earlier bothered him that much? Had you pushed him away again, without even realising it?

Slumping against the door, you bit back tears, the overwhelming sense of missed chances clawing at your chest. Sure, you could come back another day. But you'd already lost so much time, wasted so many years pretending you didn't want this, pretending you didn't love him. You didn't want to waste another second.

Your gaze drifted inside the store, scanning the shelves. Your breath caught when you noticed something was missing. The Kuromi figurine—the one you'd lingered on earlier—was gone. You frowned, stepping closer to the glass. It had been there before. Where had it gone?

"Looking for this?"

The familiar voice made you spin around so fast you nearly stumbled. There he was, standing just a few feet away, the Kuromi figurine clutched in his hand, still encased in its protective plastic.

Your breath hitched as tears filled your eyes. "You took her off the shelf?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotion as you took a tentative step toward him. "Where were you planning to take her?"

He smiled softly, though his eyes glistened with unshed tears of his own. "I was going to take her to her rightful owner," he murmured, his voice steady but tender.

Your heart stopped at his words, and you whispered shakily, "Was? So you're not taking her anymore?"

He shook his head slowly. "No."

"Why not?"

He hesitated, the weight of years of longing and regret pressing against his chest. But then, the words of the customer from earlier echoed in his mind. Don't wait until it's too late. He looked at you—really looked at you—and knew, without a doubt, that this moment was the answer he'd been waiting for.

Taking a careful step forward, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing softly against yours. His breath hitched when your fingers instinctively curled around his, holding on as though letting go would shatter everything.

"Because you're already here," he murmured, his voice trembling with unspoken emotion.

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, your heart felt whole again. The ache of countless nights spent longing for him, convinced you'd never feel his love again, melted away. Here he was—right in front of you—just like all those years ago. Yet, it felt different now. It felt... right. Because this time, neither of you would let fear or doubt stand in the way. This time, you were both ready to fight for it, to grow, to compromise, and to hold on.

"Hwa, I... I need to tell you something," you began, your voice shaking, each word heavy with the weight of years spent in silence. Your eyes searched his, desperate to convey everything your heart had been screaming in his absence. But before you could say more, he smiled—a small, trembling curve of his lips that held every ounce of love and pain he'd been holding back.

His eyes glistened as he leaned in, his forehead gently meeting yours, grounding you, binding you in a way that no words ever could. The moment felt infinite, a pause in time where your souls met in unspoken understanding.

"I love you too," he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion, raw and honest. Before you could process the words, his lips found yours, soft and warm, carrying all the unspoken promises, all the years of longing, all the love you thought you'd lost.

The world blurred and softened around you—the hum of the street and the glow of the city lights dissolving into nothingness. All that remained was him, the familiar scent of his cologne, the steady warmth of his hands cradling your face, the way his heart seemed to beat in perfect rhythm with yours.

In that kiss, you felt everything: the heartbreak, the yearning, the hope, and, most of all, the love that had endured time, separation, and pain. It was as if every broken piece of your heart was mending, every crack filled with the warmth of his love.

When you finally pulled apart, your foreheads remained pressed together, your breaths mingling in the quiet night. His thumb brushed away a tear you hadn't realised had fallen, his touch tender and sure.

"This time," he murmured, his voice steady but full of emotion, "I'm not letting you go."

And you knew—you both knew—that this time, nothing would keep you apart.

Istg, this wasn't meant to be so long. I wasn't even sure I wanted to give it a happy ending at first, but then I just kept getting carried away and voila. I swear I am working on Yunho's chapter of By Order of the Black Pirates bit by bit hehe just had to get this out of my system first.

As always, thank you for reading and hope y'all liked this one! Do let me know your thoughts! <3

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[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

Are we alright there atiny..?

[latisthegenderfluidwannabealone]

yunho - frozen slip ‘n slide

word count : 518

-

you notice that you’re getting a call on your phone as you follow the directions on your screen. you answer the call and bring your phone up to your ear.

"hello?"

"hey, almost here?" yunho asks you.

"yea, i'm just a block away, i think," you reply, "hang on."

you take your phone away from your ear and put the call on speakerphone. you go to the navigation app on your phone and continue to follow the directions.

"oh, i'm three blocks away," you mention.

"okay, i'll just stay on the phone in case you get lost. it's a little confusing," yunho says to you.

"how did you hear about this place again? from your coworkers?" you ask.

"yea, one of the senior members on my team mentioned this place," he answers. "she said that this is one of the best places to go in the winter," he adds.

"all of the reviews and photos look good. i'm excited," you say with a smile. you turn around a corner and look at the map, but you become confused. "huh?" you stop walking and move to the side so you aren't in the way for other people who are walking.

"something wrong?" yunho asks you.

"the map says i should be passing a clothing store, but i don't see one," you say and look around at the different stores around you.

"maybe the map is wrong?" yunho says. "just keep walking. you should be nearby."

"okay," you reply and start walking again. "oh gosh, i didn't tell you, but i slipped so much on my way here. the ice still hasn't melted yet by my apartment building."

"they didn't salt it yet? that's really dangerous."

"they probably just missed it, but hopefully they realized it by now since the streets have cleared up a bit," you say. "you should've seen me earlier. i was taking so many baby steps," you recall. you look at the stores that you are passing by, "i'm almost there, i think," you say to him.

"i'll step outside," yunho says.

you look down the street and see someone step out of a store.

"yunho!" you call out to him and end the call.

yunho looks in your direction and smiles as he watches you walk. you hurry your pace since you’re excited to see him.

"i'm so happy to—ah!" you suddenly slip in front of him, but yunho catches you before you can face plant into the ground.

"you okay?" he immediately asks and helps you stand up straight.

you nod, "yea. thanks. i didn't think it'd be icy over here either."

"guess they missed a few spots over here too," he says and holds you hand. "come on, let's go in before we go on a slip 'n slide instead of our dinner date," he says and opens the door to the restaurant.

"a slip 'n slide is fun though," you state as both of you walk into the restaurant.

"it is but not in the freezing cold and when my girl is prone to slipping," he says and kisses your head.