#but then she started working for my company so i got to know her as a friend even though she’s 6 years younger than mr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mayullla · 3 days ago

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Title: His Dream Wife

Character(s): Richard (Original character / Original work)

Synopsis: He always wanted a perfect family, but life never gave him what he wanted. Instead, he was blackmailed into marrying a gold digger. But after seeing you for the first time the wife of his friend all he could think of was you. So don't mind him when he was given the option to swap his wife's consciousness with yours he took that chance immediately.

Warnings/tags: Yandere Dilf x meek reader, yandere pov, general yandere themes, body swap between reader and Yandere's wife, cheating (not done by reader), arranged, baby trapping, Yandere wants that traditional wife and lifestyle. Word count: 4.2k (Please tell me if I miss anything!)

Note: I just finished reading the webtoon "Marry My Husband," so you can probably see many small ideas taken from it in this story!

Ever since he was young, Richard had fantasies and dreams of a perfect family. He always loved the idea of someone relying on him just as much as he would on them, and someone who would love him exclusively and trust him completely. Maybe that was why he liked wolves, having been told back then that those animals would mate for life. He liked that. He wanted that. Friends were nice there is nothing wrong with that. But there is something about a family that he wanted. Maybe it was because he was jealous back then of how affectionate his grandparents were between each other, while his parents were far from that.

That was what he wanted and well maybe he started to want a little more the older he got. He wanted what his grandparents had, he wanted what the movies had… he wanted what his fantasies had. He loved the idea of a family, coming back from work to an affectionate housewife with her tummy big inside a second or third child while holding the first. The idea of kisses between each other, while his lover irrupts in giggles, playfully pushing him back telling him that he should not let the food turn cold or let the kids see them.

Someone he could spoil and give everything to while she relied on him and his money. He would work hard every day just for her and the kids, to give them the home they deserve. She would give back by cooking and cleaning the house, anybody knows that those things are hard work and everything takes time. But she would do it for the both of them, for him.

Yet he wasn't able to attain that dream. He wasn't allowed to have it. He attracted the attention of a viel woman, who had used any and every blackmail to tie him down to her. He was a manager at a big company already quickly climbing up but also came from a rich family, he unwantedly got the attention of a woman who was greedy for money and something handsome.

And her own manager was ripe for the picking.

She did many things but somehow he was able to avoid many of them however that could only go on for so long. She was cunning, too smart for her own good. He didn't know how she did it, it made him furious at what she did waking up in a hotel with her right beside him. He had no memories of the night yet she did when she told everyone that she had his baby a month later.

Everyone was frantic, his parents especially who cared so much about their appearance and reputation than anything else. While he hated them for the lack of love or care only forcing him to their whims to get a word above their acquaintances and rivals. The idea of him their own son mudding their name with the fact that he got someone pregnant without marriage made them furious. They wanted him to marry her immediately and he had no choice not when they held his job, reputation, and life above him not when that woman too did the same with her connections and people behind the scenes. It was idiotic that he fell into her hands like this, no matter what he did she did not let go and sank her claws deep into his skin.

Richard wanted to know if this child was his, but there was no time when everybody demanded his and that woman didn't give him a chance to check. Only to cry after the marriage that the child from miscarriage due to stress from his selfishness. Many blamed him even though he knew that she was lying this whole time but no matter what he said her crocodile tears worked far better than any explanation.

He was furious, angered by everything that happened but he wasn't allowed to do anything he wasn't allowed to break up with her. His life, everything that he worked for had turned to nothing by this woman. She could care less about love or something genuine and only cared about his money, demanding that he give her money to go shopping to buy expensive brand items and clothing while also going to parties and bars with her friends coming back home late leaving only a mess with how drunk she was.

Some days she would not come home at all and he assumed that she was with another man, as he didn't give in to her sexual demands even if they were husband and wife. At this point, the idea of touching her body even her hand disgusted him.

He thought he lost everything, he felt hopeless when he could not break up with that woman who made sure that he could not have a divorce without destroying his reputation and paying her a huge amount of cash. She was insane.

Rather than be with her he would rather drown in his work in his office. The house smelled like her strong perfume that could only make his head hurt the moment he took one whiff of it even though that woman wasn't even in the house having already left to head to the next new bar that opened up in the city.

That was his life, he genuinely thought that this was his ending, a story that didn't end so well, yet unable to change anything with knives around his neck daring him to move. But in the end, nothing is concrete, sometimes all it takes is helping an old lady who just so happens to be a fortune teller.

Typing away at his computer late at night in his office as he looked at the time, his thoughts could not help but let his thoughts drift for a moment. Richard closed his eyes slightly burning from looking at the laptop for too long. Leaning his chair, he pulled his tie down a little as he thought about this afternoon when he helped out a poor fortune teller the old woman after picking some stuff up at the market, who looked to be in her 80s stuck outside homeless and struggling to open her shop. As she had dropped something that had rolled towards him he picked it up and gave it to the old lady. He didn't know what moved him to help her. But as a present, he had gotten a small viel.

"Thank you for your help. You are quite the hard worker." The old woman said, sitting on the chair when everything was finally set up. She looked at him with a sly smile on her face. The old woman he later realized had a way of speaking, that wasn't normal. Weird yet at the same time sharp... too sharp. “Too bad you are stuck with such a mean spirit woman. How you handle such a woman for so long now… I am impressed.” Sharp as in she knew too much than he would have liked for a stranger to know.

"Buahahaha, don't worry boy this would be the last you would ever hear from me after this." The old woman laughed at his stiff glare. He didn't know how she did it but she seemed to know a lot about his relationship with his wife and the trouble that he was in yet at the same time she had a knack for poking at his sore spots.

Before Richard could think about calling the police she suddenly pulled out a vial inside containing a blue liquid, "You help me with my little trouble so I want to give you a little something, that could help you with your own little trouble. Besides, I couldn't resist helping someone in need.”

“A little swap potion, let your wife and your sweetheart drink it and they will swap at the start of the next day. The lil spell would wear off in a month but if there is nothing to return to… well then that means nothing could even happen. Dont yah think so boy? Haha!” He took the vial from the lady, thinking about throwing it when she was nowhere in sight. The creepy grin didn't match her so-called kind action, but she was not finished with talking.

“You better move fast my boy, that woman will make sure you will be dead before a year. It is very easy to hide evidence with a car crash.”

After that, it was difficult to throw the thin vial. Part of him could not drop the liquid into the bin, so he stored it on his office desk, locked but with a key, along with other important documents and such.

"Richard!! Why did you not show up at the dinner party?! Do you know how much embarrassment you have caused me?" his wife screamed. He couldn't help but groan in annoyance the moment he walked through the entrance. It was too early in the morning for such screaming, but she just continued on and on: "And why are you here now?!! It is the next day!? Explain yourself!"

"I don't need to explain myself to you at all." Walking past his wife who was glaring daggers at him. The more he learned about his wife the more he realized that she was similar to his parents, cared only about reputation, and was selfish putting themselves first before anything else. Hypocrites. "I had to finish up some work so I stayed at my office. I needed to finish all the file work before the meeting." Unlike a certain someone who would come home the next day afternoon after being in someone else's arms.

Walking into his own home, he could not recognize it... everything was thrown about and trashed everywhere. Expensive decorations on the floor and shattered. Sofa and pillows ripped letting cotton spill from them. Walls wet and dirty with glass cups, and pots of plants shattered on the floor. Looking at everything he kept his anger internally holding everything in as he continued to walk towards his office and bedroom locked with a key.

This wasn't the first time this happened, he had found out that there was no use to teaching someone who saw no reason to change her ways. He just needs to call in some cleaners, replace the things that broke and that was it.

Heading to his home office to place his bag on the table he suddenly received a text on his phone. Pulling out the device to check who it was while the woman continued to scream at him.

"That doesn't explain why you didn't tell me you couldn't join the dinner!" It was because she wouldn't listen, no matter what. If he had told her, she would have either demanded that he come or screamed at him—first on the phone, then again when he got home. "Answer your phone when I call! Are you even listening to me?!"

He knew of the calls and messages. She had been calling non-stop and texting for an hour since he didn't come to her friends' dinner. He just didn't care to answer and left it on mute to let him focus on his work. Looking at the sender he couldn't help but sigh.

"Hey, I am talking to you!" Her shrill screaming was mind-numbing as he got his clothes unable to stand her voice and would rather change elsewhere. "RICHARD!!!"

He quickly left the house and got into his car, ignoring the high-heeled shoe that was thrown at him—missing as it landed. Starting the engine, he drove off, tuning out her shouts.

It was past midnight, and he was alone on the road. No one else was in sight. As he waited at a red light, he pulled out his phone to check a message. It was from a "friend" he had made at university, inviting him to dinner the next day. The guy had always been friendly—or at least tried to be. He had the personality of a know-it-all, and while he didn’t care for him much, it seemed the guy had once considered them friends. That was until money and popularity got to his head.

The guy knew a lot and had multiple connections and friends, he was the one who helped him find a cleaner will to keep silent about everything that happened in the house after the housemaid quit due to his wife assuming that he and the maid had done something sexual in the bedroom. The woman was crying as her hair had been pulled and her face slapped by his wife.

He also had seen the lust in that friend's eyes whenever he looked at her. Even after the guy was married for over a year he still looked at another wife with lust, it was disgusting to Richard that his friend would do such a thing but as the guy had helped him with a few of his troubles he didn't just cut him away.

The message was an invite for a double date. Having just left his house and his furious wife behind (not that he would ever take her anywhere unless absolutely forced), he tried to decline, saying that his wife was a bit "busy."

[Dude, dont worry about it and just come then.]

[Won't it be awkward for your wife?]

[It doesn't matter she would just say that it is fine either way.]

[Don't leave me here with her. You have already talked with her either way it is not a problem anymore. ]

From what he remembered it seemed that it was an arranged marriage between the two. Something that was decided by their parents for the benefit of their companies. The guy absolutely hated the fact that he was pushed into this marriage and had nothing good to say about his wife but that was a goody two shoes and boring. "She lacks the wildness that I am looking for." The guy said he was drinking in a bar one time having called him to express his frustrations after an official meeting with her. "She probably doesn't know anything except how to clean dishes.”

"I would not leave the house with a babe like yours. How do you keep everything in your pants?" The guy asked too drunk from all the alcohol to be careful with his words. "You might like my fiance a lot with your uptight attitude and lack of fun. Maybe we should switch wives later. Hey, wanna wife swap one time? It would be fun~~."

He had ignored the very obvious lust in the guy’s eyes, choosing not to address it and instead steer the conversation elsewhere. In the end, between hiccups, the guy told him he’d introduce him to his future wife and insisted that he should come to the wedding.

A few days later, with the invitation in hand, he attended the wedding. There, he saw the guy’s wife—and he was absolutely floored.

It was just a moment. A fleeting glimpse. He caught sight of her for only a second, walking toward his friend across the hall. Through the open door of the bride's room, he saw her, and he froze.

She was stunning.

He could not believe that a woman like you would become the wife of the guy. He wanted to take a step back to see you again, yet when his wife called him he was forced to start walking again not wanting to cause a scene due to her fickle pride.

After all, he could see you again on the walkway when the wedding starts.

But he didn't want to leave either way.

Seated on the husband's side as the music stopped hinting to the guest that it was about to start soon. He watched as his friend walked the aisle, knowing but not commenting on the dirty slutish look his wife was giving to the guy looking at him up and down and waiting for you to show up.

You arrived soon after, dressed elegantly and sophisticated holding bouquets of flowers. He noticed how pretty you were, your walk and movements were elegant and soft, a far cry to his wife who walked to call the men's attention dressed a little too revealing for the formal occasion.

Would he have married a woman like you if this wench hadn’t come to destroy his life? Would he have married you if your parents and your friend’s family hadn’t forced the two of you into it? If this wasn’t some kind of mask, and this really was you, he wouldn’t have any complaints about being stuck with you. In fact, he would have demanded it—forced it, if he could. But that wasn’t how life turned out... You were not his.

The wedding soon came to an end and that was it. Legally you were tied to his friend while he was already stuck with his own problems. It wasn't fair. He just couldn't let it go as he stayed in his seat even after the end of the wedding speech as everybody started to leave to eat and dance. While his wife went to meet up with the groom he stayed where he was just thinking.

How surprised he was that he ended up meeting you so soon.

The guy had invited him to dinner a few times and he quickly understood that it was to have someone else in the group after the guy was forced by his parents to take you out a few times. But that didn't matter to him when he was finally able to talk to you, to chat with you.

When he reached the restaurant, the guy stood up after a small conversation, stating that he needed to run to the bathroom, take a call, or use some other excuse he had up his sleeve. He left the table for as long as possible only to come back near the end with maybe a lipstick on his shirt or something. And if Richard’s wife was there, the guy would start subtlety flirting with his wife, uncaring if he or his own wife was there, not that the woman herself cared.

He pitied you, as you kept on your smile even when your eyes swirled with an understanding of your place, yet at the same time, you were still so hurt. You were silent for the most part keeping to yourself.

You and he become rather close but not really, it was a kind of comradery of your situations or that was what he would like to think. Whenever you and him were left alone, rather than keep the awkward air around he would start to talk to you.

You were a little flustered at first but slowly you started to get used to talking with him. Chatting amicably as if enjoying the conversation between you and him. He also did enjoy conversing with you. No heavy topics, it wasn't business or anything to do with work but stuff like traveling, hobbies, and favorite food. The things that you would like to do if you only had the time or chance to do them.

You weren't loud but you were delicate, gentle, and easy to fluster too. You were polite and careful with your words but also curious asking him many questions when he talks about his own stories. You would keep all your attention on him, even if he noticed you didn't seem maybe that interested in a topic or two.

There was one time he went to your apartment, an invitation from your husband who invited him and his wife. Your place was in a high-end apartment probably paid by the family, with decorations that were chic and modern but there was also a homely feeling to the place, cleaned and cared for with love, unlike his messed up house. The smell of the house was similar to that of a fragrant laundry detergent instead of strong perfume. Just for a moment, he realized that you were the one who did all this when he saw you coming out from the kitchen unwrapping the apron you were wearing.

Just for a moment you gave him an actual vision of a home, a vision of what he wanted so much and could have had yet was taken away from him. You gave him a vision of what it would be like to have a wife who cares so much.

He could not help but crumble and fall.

He started to crave for you, the more he chatted with you the more he fell every night he fantasized about you in his arms. He wished... he craved for you so much that he thought he started having delusions that you were his. At night, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing you clearly in the darkness.

But you just had to break everything, you just had to slam a hammer to his dreams and fantasies just like everyone else.

"I'm sorry," you said, a sorrowful smile on your lips. "I know my husband is using you to get out of our date. I apologize for taking up your time when you're so busy. Please, I’ll make sure this doesn't happen again. You don’t have to come every time he asks you to. I’m sure you’re busy too."

Why...? Why did you say that? He thought you knew that he already understood. He thought you knew that it didn’t bother him at all—especially when you both always had such enjoyable conversations. Why did you apologize? Why would you tell him to stop coming? Why were you pushing him away?

Your eyes looked at him in sorry and guilt and it clicked you were scared you were so scared that something wrong might happen. Because in the end, you were loyal, loyal to a man who didn't even love you.

It made him livid.

Even if you thought you knew more than he did, he was the one who knew more. He knew well what your husband does on nights that he isn't home, where he goes, and what he does there. In Richard’s own house, he could hear the sounds of two people with familiar voices thinking they were alone.

His wife and your husband.

You didn't know that, while you probably knew that he partied every day you seemed to have hope that he didn't have the audacity to lay in bed with another married woman much less the wife of his own friend. He didn't care who that guy lay with, but it made him irritated that a guy like him had you.

That appointment ended up awkward. Too awkward as both of you waited for your husband to arrive. The guy knew something was up the moment he arrived but seemed to choose not to say anything having enough tack not to right at that moment when he usually didn't.

Looking at the message again he sighed declining the invite again even when the guy tried to put up a fuss. It was just that he could not face you right now, not when you made it clear that all you felt towards him was guilt.

If only it was you... if only he had found you first if that woman didn't chain herself to him using blackmail and connections.

If he could just swap his wife with you he would have been happier... he would have the life he wished he had and he would spoil you with all his love and time. While you would wait oh so lovingly for him while cooking and cleaning while he worked to bring the money to keep you happy materially. He would be a better husband than your own and he already knew that you would be a far more better wife than his own.

But you just had to draw that line. That line of law and morality.

Watching the road as he drove, he could not help but let annoyance fester him at this whole situation till he saw a poster pass by him. Purple with a familiar design that he saw just this morning. Something to do with a certain fortune teller who knew a little too much and who gave him a small vial.

Truthfully he didn't believe in such things, but part of him had become so desperate that he just could not think straight. He was desperate and he knew that the old woman knew that and was laughing at him for it.

"Here yah go. This is a little something that would have cost a shit ton but I am gonna give it to you for free." The old woman cackled, she was having way too much fun knowing his situation. "If you plan to add this to a drink don't worry about the colour at all."

He didn't believe in such things. But there was a whisper in his mind a little spell in his brain that told him that this would work. That there was something different about that mad woman who probably lived only in entertainment.

His hand moved before he could even think about it, accepting the dinner invitation as he finally reached his office. It was supposed to be closed, but a few employees were pulling an all-nighter, so the building wasn't locked. In his mind, all he could think about was the life he once dreamed of—the life that had been taken away from him. All he wanted was a life with you, and that thing—that vial—would be the answer to all his problems.

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 19 hours ago

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Call Call Call!

Wonwoo x coworker!reader Requested? Yes! Word count: 3k A/N: I know this must be the 4th or 5th time that I’ve insisted on IT employee Wonwoo, but no. I will not stop. It fits him so well.

Wonwoo lets out a big sigh when the phone stops ringing, leaning back in his chair to glare across to Mingyu’s cubicle. He’s answered the phone faster than the rest of them today, and Wonwoo knows Seungcheol and Vernon are also rolling their eyes. It’s a stupid little competition that’s started since you began working here.

You find pretty creative ways to break computers. And phones. And printers. You keep the IT help desk busy and it started as a joke when it was just emails. One of his coworkers would groan, “Ugh, we got another one,” and the response would be, “What is it this time?”

And in the beginning, you kept a very busy schedule. You’d leave your laptop hooked up at your desk for someone to look at while you were at meetings. Same with your desk phone. And the printer was shared amongst your department. All that to say, they had no idea what you looked like until one day it was Vernon’s turn to run and fix something for you. He comes back up an hour later and says, “Uh, did you guys know she was hot?” Vernon’s point was proven one day at the company lunch when you were introduced as the newest team lead for your department.

From then on, all four of them would glance at who was calling or emailing and call dibs. Yes, they’d eventually answer it as the job requires, but if it was you? The race was on. Mingyu happened to win today. He’s jumping out of his seat with a smug smile once he hangs up the phone. “She needs admin access to download something.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes. “Can’t you just remote in to do that?” It’s what they would do for anyone else. Mingyu shrugs, making his way out of the office. Wonwoo tries not to feed this little competition his department has, but sometimes he can’t help it. Part of it is pride, because even if he’s not busy on another call or away from his desk, he always seems to lose the race to the phone or reply button. Mingyu and Seungcheol enjoy the competition, perhaps more than actually visiting you, though they seem to enjoy that too. Vernon even looks a little dopey sometimes when he comes back down from your cubicle.

Maybe it’s for the best that he loses all the time. He’s sure he’d be painfully awkward. So he’ll stick to your password reset requests which definitely don’t require a visit upstairs.

~ Wonwoo wins one day, not that there was actually a lot of competition. Seungcheol is out, and Mingyu and Vernon are on runs to help someone with something elsewhere in the building. Wonwoo has been left to man the phones and his heart leaps when he sees your caller ID come through. He answers the phone and you sigh on the other end. “I’ve done it again.”

His coworkers give you a hard time about how busy you keep them, so you start every call or email with an apologetic tone. It makes him bite back a chuckle. “What is it?”

“I’m locked out of everything. Which means I can’t even get in to my email to send a password reset request.”

“We need to discuss your password management,” Wonwoo teases, opening the directory. “Here’s your temporary password. You’ll need to reset it once you get in.”

Once you’ve jotted down the temporary password, you sigh again. “Thank you. I’ll try not to pester you again today.”

“It’s no problem.” He’s kind of required to say this, but he says genuinely right now. When the call ends, he documents the ticket and closes it, but when Vernon and Mingyu come back, they both see it and groan.

“You get to go on runs next time,” Mingyu grumbles.

Seungcheol gets the next call. You come in late to find out that nothing on your desk is working and you’re borderline panicked when you make the call from your coworker’s desk phone. Seungcheol comes back down ten minutes later with a smirk on his face.

“What, did you finally ask her out?” Vernon chortles from his desk. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. Not that any of them had been so bold as to do that yet, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

“Oh no,” Seungcheol chuckled. “I’m not brave enough for that. I was laughing at the problem this time.”

“What was it?” Mingyu asked.

“Surge protector was off,” Seungcheol snorted. “Custodians must have hit it when they vacuumed. You should have seen her face when that’s all it took.”

Even Wonwoo can’t help but snort at the thought. Mingyu shakes his head. “How does she keep doing things like this?”

“It’s a mystery,” Vernon muses.

The next call goes to Vernon. The printer is on the fritz again, according to your message. This isn’t new, not even for you. Others regularly complain about the very same printer that’s ancient and really needs to be replaced. His coworkers still chortle about the fact that it’s you who has to report it today.

Twenty minutes later, Vernon comes back into the office and simply announces, “paper jam!”

No one really reacts to this announcement. They get a few calls like that a week. However, Vernon stands between the cubicles and presents a massive wad of printer paper. “I’m not joking.”

The three of them burst into laughter. “Oh man. Did you pull all of that out of the printer in front of her?” Seungcheol wheezes.

“Sure did!” Vernon answers, dropping the wad into the recycling. “Her exact words were ‘why me’.”

“Why her indeed,” Wonwoo muses.

“We need to just put in a request to replace that monstrosity. It’ll save her and everyone else on that floor a few phone calls,” Mingyu said.

“I’ll do it,” Wonwoo offered, pulling up a request form. Anything to put you out of your misery.

Mingyu might have taken the next phone call, but he begrudgingly hands it off to Wonwoo to handle. Mingyu’s in the middle of massive laptop order and can’t break away, so he dictates the problem to Wonwoo. It’s simple. You need a new keyboard. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, simply filing the ticket and picking up a new keyboard from the supply closet on his way out.

He realizes you’re having a hard day right away. You’re cleaning the spilt coffee off your desk with paper towels that your coworker, Jiwoo, is handing you over your cubicle wall. You kind of look like you might cry when he approaches, so he doesn’t dare make a joke about your call today. “New keyboard,” he simply says, holding it up.

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you sigh. “Sorry to make you make the trip up here for that.”

He shrugs. “It’s no problem.”

“No, it is. This is the first thing I’ve actually destroyed,” you pout, tossing a wad of paper towels into your trash bin and grabbing another wad from Jiwoo.

“These aren’t expensive,” he tries to soothe. “We buy them in bulk anyway. There are a ton in the supply closet.”

He doesn’t know if his words help, so he simply hooks up your new keyboard and carries the coffee-logged one away. Jiwoo is giving you another cup of coffee as he leaves.

He gets the typical questioning look when he arrives back in his office. He presents the destroyed keyboard. “Coffee mishap,” he says, dumping it into the equipment recycling bin. “I think she might have actually been upset by that one.”

“At least it wasn’t her laptop,” Vernon says.

“Don’t jinx it. Bless her heart, but it might happen someday,” Seungcheol said with only a bit of humor to it. Sometimes, they actually felt a little pity for you and your bad luck with technology.

Wonwoo wouldn’t mind putting in a laptop request form for you and setting up a loaner, but he did not enjoy seeing you upset. He hopes you don’t have to call again today, if only because it means you don’t have anymore mishaps to feel bad about.

The company is hosting a dinner for everyone in celebration of a successful year. It’s dull for the first half, with leadership rambling about record-breaking profits and an overwhelming number of new investors. Amongst other coworkers, you’re being honored for some of this work, for which you have to give a little acceptance speech. At least you have a good sense of humor, because you thank the help desk for all of the assistance they’ve given you in your time here. It’s sort of like an inside joke when you promise you’ll try not to break anything else.

Wonwoo decides to tap out a little after 10pm. It’s early for something like this, particularly since the company has an open bar tonight, but he doesn’t really feel up to getting drunk with his coworkers. His bed is calling his name, so he says good night and steps out of the venue the company has rented for the night. You’re already standing outside. It’s kind of unusual to see you alone. You usually stick to your department mates, namely Jiwoo.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he approaches you. “Nice speech, but you didn’t have to do that,” he chuckles.

You glance up at him, grinning. “Oh, but I did. I harass you guys constantly. You deserved the shout out.”

“You’re our favorite troublemaker, it’s okay,” he teases. He glances around. “No Jiwoo tonight?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, she’s been sick the last couple of days. She wanted to make it, but she’s still stuck in bed.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says. “What will you do without your shadow? Or are you hers?”

You snort out a laugh. “Depends on the moment, I guess. But to answer your question, I’ll be getting a taxi. She usually drives for these things.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Why would you do that? I’ll just give you a ride.”

Your eyes get wide. “Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you. I’m all the way on the other side of town. You don’t need to go out of your way.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I don’t mind the drive. Come on. I really don’t mind.”

You eventually nod. “If you insist. Thanks, Wonwoo.” He leads you to his car that’s parked around the block. He lets you guide him as he pulls out onto the street.

While driving between directions, he can’t help but chat idly. It even surprises him, but whatever nervousness he felt fades fast because you’re an easy person to talk to, even if the only safe topics he has are work related right now. “Do you like the job so far?”

“Oh yeah! It’s very different from my last job, but that’s a good thing.”

“Oh? What did you do before?” Wonwoo asked curiously.

You hesitate and he glances to you to see that you look a little sheepish. “You’re going to laugh.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I promise I won’t.”

“You will,” you insist, before taking a deep breath. “Here it goes. I used to work in IT.”

Wonwoo can’t help the snort that he lets out. It’s a good thing he’s at a stop light. “Are you serious?”

You’re turning a little red, rolling your eyes. “I know, laugh it up.”

“Seriously, explain this to me. You used to work in IT but you’re the top ticket requester for the entire year. How did we get here?”

You’re shaking your head, though you don’t look too upset. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but that’s pretty ironic,” Wonwoo muses. “What? Do you just like for us to come visit you?”

“Your whole department? Maybe not,” you laugh, but it makes him quirk an eyebrow at you again.

“What? Do you have a favorite or something?”

You scoff good-naturedly. “What? So you can laugh at me again?”

“Is your plot to date Mingyu?” Wonwoo teases slyly, but you shake your head with an eye roll. “Seungcheol?” Another shake of your head. “Vernon?” He cries out.

You scoff. “Nope. You know, you hardly ever answer the phone?” Wonwoo’s perplexed for a moment, glancing at you at another stop light. “I’m… lost.”

“By what? That I know how to work a surge protector and was hoping you’d pick up the phone? Most of those calls were admittedly things I couldn’t help, but….” You trail off.

Wonwoo’s incredibly slow on the pickup. “You’re… into me? Me?” He points to his chest for clarification.

You blink up at him, gesturing to the intersection. “Green light.” Wonwoo starts driving again. “Why not you?”

“I don’t know… and why not just ask?”

You start to say something and then huff. “I don’t know. What if I make a fool out of myself?” You pause. “More than I already do, I guess.” You point to an apartment complex on the right. “This is me.”

He’s quiet for a few beats as he pulls up in front of the building. You’re peeling off your seatbelt when he interrupts. “I would have said yes.”

You stare at him for a long second before a smile begins to creep up on your lips. “Oh?” You glance around at the street in front of you before glancing back. It’s like you’re steeling yourself for something. “Would you happen to be free this weekend?”

Wonwoo slowly smiles, gripping the steering wheel. “Yeah, I’m free if you are.” It’s his turn to be a little bold. “But I’m free right now too.”

Your grin is getting wider. “The dinner didn’t quite cut it for me. Did it for you?”

“No… There’s a good restaurant around the corner that stays open late, I think.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go then!” You’re hopping out of the car and Wonwoo has never moved so fast to follow. He does everything he can to mask how giddy he is when he meets you on the sidewalk and you hold out your hand for him.

He’ll give you a hard time about your unorthodox approach to letting him know you’re into him later. Much, much later.

The phone rings and no one leaps for it. Mingyu even sits back in his chair again. “Wonwoo, it’s for you.”

The little competition of theirs was over the moment that the phone rang one day and you asked if Wonwoo was busy and could help you with something. He hadn’t really announced the newly found relationship, but he’d been met with three questioning glares when Seungcheol had asked why you wanted Wonwoo specifically. He’d casually said, “Not sure, but I’ll be a good boyfriend and go see what she needs.” He left the room in utter chaos that morning.

Since then, they’d resigned themselves to the fact that most of your calls were just excuses to see Wonwoo. It didn’t always work - sometimes Wonwoo was busy and someone else had to come help you - but no one would ever catch Wonwoo complaining.

Like now, Wonwoo simply stands and leaves the office to see you. He knows you don’t really need anything, but he likes the excuse just as much as you do. When he comes out of the elevator, you’re peeking over your cubicle wall and he can tell you’re grinning even though he can only see your eyes. He hangs over the cubicle wall lazily. “You rang?”

You look a little sneaky when you smile up at him. “I accidentally deleted a file and I think it’s gone forever. Can you help?”

“Sure,” he says simply, though he could have recovered this file from his desk. You slide your chair to the side and he squeezes into your cubicle to take over your computer. “Any plans tonight?” He says casually.

“No, do you?” You ask, tone teasing.

“Oh my god. Do you guys have to do this every day?” Jiwoo groans from her cubicle, though neither you or Wonwoo can see her. It makes you both laugh.

“Just put your headphones in, Jiwoo. Let me talk to my boyfriend,” you chuckle.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Wonwoo teases, ignoring Jiwoo’s second groan.

“When did we talk about that?” He’s absolutely messing with you because he’s been calling himself that for a while now.

You blink up at him innocently. “Do you hate it?”

Wonwoo snorts. “No, you know I don’t.” His phone buzzes, and then keeps buzzing in his pocket. He knows it’s one of his coworkers downstairs. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later for dinner.” He risks a little kiss before he runs back downstairs. He’ll take whatever complaints his coworkers have for his little escapes upstairs any day.

#wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #Jeon wonwoo x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #svt imagines

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w1w2 · 2 days ago

Text

The Echo of an Ordinary Girl

Irene x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 17K

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: After years of relentless work, Y/N’s promotion celebration takes a surprising turn when a chance encounter leads her to an exclusive idol party. There, she catches the attention of Irene from Red Velvet, sparking a quiet yet profound connection.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

A soft snow had started to fall, casting a glittering veil over the bustling streets of Seoul. Y/N pulled her coat tighter as she stepped out of the sleek glass doors of her company’s headquarters. The cold bit at her cheeks, but she didn’t mind; the warmth of her success was more than enough to keep her spirits high.

Earlier that day, during the morning briefing, she had been officially promoted to Manager—a position she had worked tirelessly toward since moving to Seoul three years ago. The congratulatory emails and warm smiles from her colleagues had left her feeling both accomplished and reflective. She thought of her journey from Europe to South Korea, the challenges she faced, and how this moment was a testament to her determination.

Reaching the curb to hail a cab, Y/N adjusted her glasses, the sleek frames resting perfectly on her subtly arched brows, framing her thoughtful green eyes. There was a calm intensity in her gaze, a reflection of the emotional intelligence and quiet confidence that had carried her through the hurdles of her career. Her lips curled into a small, genuine smile as she glanced at her phone buzzing in her pocket.

It was a message in the group chat she shared with her three closest friends in Seoul:

[Soojin]: Manager Y/N! That title looks good on you. We’re celebrating tonight, no excuses!

[Jiho]: Seriously, you deserve a night out! We’ve got something special planned, so don’t even think about canceling.

[Minji]: Wear something cute, but don’t go overboard. You know we’ll be late if you overthink it.

Y/N chuckled softly, tucking her phone back into the crossbody bag slung across her shoulder. She had learned early on that arguing with her friends was pointless. Their love for celebrations—and for her—meant she was in for an evening she wouldn’t soon forget.

Later that night, Y/N stepped out of the cab in front of a well-known bar nestled in the vibrant district of Itaewon. The neon sign above the entrance flickered invitingly, reflecting off the light snow that continued to fall.

Her outfit was both stylish and understated, a perfect blend of her practical nature and subtle flair. She wore ripped jeans paired with a crisp shirt that emphasized her toned upper body—her hard-earned muscles a quiet testament to her dedication to maintaining balance in her hectic life. Over the outfit, she’d thrown on a high-fashion jacket, the perfect mix of casual and refined. Rings adorned her fingers, adding a touch of edge to her ensemble, while her dark blond hair fell loosely in soft, straight strands, catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

As she approached the bar, her eyes scanned the crowd, immediately spotting her friends standing near the entrance. Their excited waves and cheerful grins brought a warmth to her heart that rivaled the glow of her earlier success. Tonight wasn’t just about celebrating her promotion—it was about embracing the life she had built, surrounded by the people who made it all worthwhile.

“Finally!” Soojin exclaimed, pulling Y/N into a warm hug. “We thought you’d back out and bury yourself in work.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Y/N replied, grinning. “Not with you three plotting against me.”

Minji gave her a once-over, nodding approvingly at Y/N’s outfit. “Good. You look the part of a manager who knows how to let loose.”

Jiho, ever the planner, led the way inside. “Okay, ladies. Follow me. I know a guy.”

The bar was packed, the sound of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. True to Jiho’s word, they were quickly ushered upstairs to the VIP section, a cozy yet sophisticated suite overlooking the main floor.

“How do you always manage this?” Y/N asked as they settled into plush seats.

Jiho winked. “Let’s just say I have connections.”

The night unfolded in a whirlwind of laughter and clinking glasses, the lively hum of the bar providing the perfect backdrop for their celebration. Y/N found herself loosening up as her friends swapped stories and jokes, their energy infectious. The VIP suite was intimate but elegant, with plush seating, dim lighting, and a panoramic view of the bustling main floor below.

Jiho had ordered a round of signature cocktails for the table—colorful concoctions served in ornate glasses that seemed almost too fancy to drink. “To success!” Jiho proclaimed, lifting her bright blue martini high in the air.

“To Y/N!” Minji countered, standing up dramatically and holding her glass aloft. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she added, “The most hardworking, badass Manager we know!”

Soojin, always quick to join in, tapped her glass against Minji’s. “And don’t forget the most loyal friend and terrible dancer.”

“Hey! I’m not that bad!” Y/N protested with a mock glare, though her laughter quickly broke through.

“To Y/N!” they all echoed, their voices rising above the noise of the bar as their glasses met with a satisfying clink. Y/N felt a warmth spread through her—not from the alcohol but from the love and pride radiating from the people around her. In the three years she’d spent in Seoul, these people had become her rock, a second family that reminded her she wasn’t navigating this city alone.

“You’ve earned this, Y/N,” Jiho said earnestly, her hand resting on Y/N’s shoulder. “All those late nights, the way you push yourself—you inspire us.”

“And now,” Soojin added, nudging Y/N playfully, “you get to bask in the glory of our undivided attention and terrible drinking habits.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You three are impossible. But thank you—for tonight, for everything.”

As the drinks continued to flow, their stories became more animated, the jokes increasingly ridiculous. Jiho shared a tale of her most awkward client interaction, which had Minji practically in tears from laughing too hard. Soojin, ever the dramatist, acted out an exaggerated rendition of a failed first date, complete with over-the-top gestures that had the entire table roaring.

But as the night went on, Y/N felt the need to step away, to breathe in the quiet pride swelling in her chest. “I’ll be right back,” she said, standing and smoothing her jacket.

“Don’t get lost!” Minji called after her, raising her glass.

The crisp December air filled Y/N’s lungs as she stepped outside the bar’s back entrance. A faint glow from the streetlights reflected off the freshly fallen snow, giving the alley a serene, otherworldly feel. She leaned against the brick wall, fishing out a cigarette from her pocket and lighting it with a quick flick of her lighter.

This was her night—a culmination of years of hard work, late nights, and moments of doubt. It was a small victory, but one that reminded her she was capable of more than she sometimes gave herself credit for. A sense of contentment washed over her as she tilted her head back, gazing at the snowflakes drifting lazily down from the dark sky.

The quiet moment didn’t last long. A few meters away, muffled voices rose into a heated exchange. Y/N squinted, noticing three figures huddled around a man near the alley’s edge.

“Just one more photo! Come on, you owe us that much for waiting!” one of the voices demanded, sharp and insistent.

“I already took photos with you and gave the autographs,” the man replied, his tone calm but laced with frustration. “I’d appreciate some privacy now.”

The fans ignored him, stepping closer, their voices growing louder and more aggressive.

“Why are you being so rude now? Do you think you’re too good for your fans?”

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. She didn’t recognize the man at first, but his discomfort was clear. Her instinct to protect kicked in. Without a second thought, she stubbed out her cigarette and walked toward the group.

“Hey!” she called, her voice firm. The fans turned, startled by the interruption.

“Who are you?” one of them snapped, glaring at her.

“Someone who’s not afraid to call the police,” Y/N shot back, pulling out her phone. She locked eyes with the man they were harassing, silently asking if he was okay. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod.

“You don’t even know what’s going on,” another fan spat.

“I know enough,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. “You’ve been harassing him, and if you don’t leave now, I’ll make sure this alley is swarming with cops in minutes. Your choice.”

The trio exchanged uncertain glances before finally backing off. “Whatever,” one of them muttered, turning to leave.

As the fans disappeared down the street, the man let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said, his voice warm with gratitude.

“No problem,” Y/N replied, slipping her phone back into her pocket. “You okay?”

“I am now,” he said, offering a small smile.

Now that the tension had eased, Y/N got a better look at him. His stylish clothes, perfectly tousled hair, and unmistakable aura of confidence made recognition click. Her eyes widened slightly. “Wait… you’re Key, right? From SHINee?”

He nodded, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Guilty as charged.”

Y/N felt a wave of embarrassment but quickly brushed it aside. “I didn’t recognize you right away. Sorry about those fans.”

“Don’t apologize,” Key said. “You handled that better than most people would. I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it. I just hate seeing people being cornered like that,” Y/N replied.

Key chuckled softly. “You’re not like most people I meet.”

As they stood there, Key glanced back at the bar. “I was just here to pick up some bottles of my favorite drink for a party. It’s imported, and the owner’s an old friend who keeps it in stock for me.” He hesitated before continuing, “Actually… you and your friends should come. It’s going to be an idols and stuff get-together, but I think you’d fit right in.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know about that. My friends and I aren’t exactly… your usual crowd.”

Key tilted his head, a playful smirk forming. “You helped me out when you didn’t have to. Consider it my way of saying thanks.”

Before Y/N could respond, the door behind her swung open. Jiho, Minji, and Soojin appeared, their laughter filling the alley.

“There you are!” Jiho said, her eyes narrowing as she noticed Key. “Wait… is that…?”

Key gave a small wave. “Hi.”

“Holy—” Minji began, but Soojin elbowed her before she could finish.

“Your friend here is amazing,” Key said, gesturing toward Y/N. “I was just inviting you all to a party tonight.”

“A party?” Soojin asked, her eyes lighting up.

“Yes,” Key confirmed. “It’s at a villa not too far from here. Exclusive, private, and plenty of fun. What do you think?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at her friends. Jiho’s excited nod and Minji’s wide grin made it clear they were already on board.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Soojin urged. “When are we ever going to get another chance like this?”

Y/N sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Okay. Why not?”

Key grinned. “Great. Let’s go.”

A sleek black van pulled up moments later, and the group piled in, their excitement bubbling over as the van drove off into the night.

The van glided smoothly through the snow-dusted streets, leaving the bustling nightlife of Itaewon behind. Y/N gazed out of the window, her mind wandering between disbelief and curiosity. Her friends, on the other hand, were practically buzzing with excitement.

“Did you see the interior of this van?” Jiho whispered loudly, nudging Minji. “This isn’t just luxury—it’s idol-level luxury.”

“We’re literally heading to an idol party,” Minji replied, grinning. “How is this even real?”

Key, seated comfortably at the front, glanced back with a smile. “You’ll see soon enough. It’s just a little gathering, but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

As they turned into a gated community, the surroundings shifted. The streets were lined with towering villas, their architecture sleek and modern. The van stopped in front of a sprawling property, its façade illuminated by soft, golden lights. Snow shimmered like diamonds on the manicured lawn.

The driver opened the door, and the group stepped out onto the cobblestone driveway, their breath visible in the crisp night air. Y/N paused, taking a moment to absorb the sight before her. The villa was nothing short of breathtaking, a modern architectural marvel nestled in one of Seoul’s most exclusive neighborhoods.

Its façade was a seamless blend of sleek glass panels and natural stone, the warm golden lights from within spilling onto the manicured grounds. The building rose in staggered levels, each section connected by terraces adorned with elegant wrought-iron railings. Vines with winter berries clung to the lower stone walls, adding a touch of charm to the contemporary design.

The large floor-to-ceiling windows offered tantalizing glimpses of the party inside—silhouettes of people laughing, mingling, and dancing under ambient lighting that shifted in soft hues of purple and gold. A grand staircase swept up to the main entrance, flanked by tall, meticulously trimmed evergreen trees wrapped in twinkling fairy lights. It felt like stepping into a dream, a world far removed from the bustling streets of the city they’d just left behind.

To the right of the villa, Y/N noticed a sleek infinity pool that shimmered even in the winter chill, its edges blending seamlessly with the view of the sprawling city below. The snow-dusted patio surrounding it was dotted with clusters of modern outdoor furniture and heat lamps, where a few guests braved the cold to chat and sip their drinks.

“It’s like something out of a movie,” Jiho murmured, her voice tinged with awe as her gaze swept over the scene.

“More like a music video,” Soojin quipped, nudging Minji. “Think we’ll end up in the background of someone’s Instagram story tonight?”

Minji rolled her eyes but grinned. “If we’re lucky.”

Y/N shook her head with a soft laugh, her initial hesitation about coming here momentarily forgotten. The villa exuded an atmosphere of exclusivity and indulgence, yet there was an undeniable warmth to it, as if it invited you to step closer and be part of the magic inside.

“Let’s not stand here gawking all night,” Jiho said, tugging Y/N gently toward the staircase. “Key didn’t invite us just to freeze out here.”

With one last glance at the dazzling exterior, Y/N followed her friends up the stairs, her heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and anticipation for what awaited them beyond those glass doors.

“Here we are,” Key announced, leading the way. At the entrance, a pair of well-dressed security guards stood by, clipboards in hand. Key spoke to them briefly, gesturing toward Y/N and her friends.

“They’re with me,” he said confidently.

The guards nodded, and one of them opened the door. “Enjoy the evening.”

As they stepped inside, the warmth of the villa enveloped them. The interior was just as stunning as the exterior. Floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city lights below.

Key turned to them with an easy smile. “The bar’s in the kitchen. Drinks are on me. Have fun!”

“Wait, you’re not sticking with us?” Soojin asked, feigning a pout.

Key chuckled. “I’ll see you around. Gotta make my rounds first.” With that, he disappeared into the crowd, leaving the group to fend for themselves.

Following Key’s directions, the group made their way to the kitchen, which had been transformed into a sleek bar setup. Bottles of every kind lined the counters, and a bartender stood ready to mix drinks. The space buzzed with energy as idols and their friends mingled, their laughter blending seamlessly with the upbeat music.

As Y/N and her friends approached the sleek marble bar, a pair of familiar faces caught their attention. Jeon Somi and Giselle from Aespa stood side by side, their radiant appearances drawing casual glances from other guests. They were deep in lighthearted conversation, their laughter blending seamlessly with the background hum of the party.

Jiho’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening in disbelief. “Is that—?”

“Yes,” Y/N whispered quickly, cutting her off before Jiho’s excitement could spill over.

Somi was striking as always, her blonde hair styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a shimmering silver mini-dress with a plunging neckline, paired with towering heels that accentuated her already statuesque frame. Her makeup was flawless, her glossy lips curved into an inviting smile as her sharp, cat-like eyeliner added an extra edge to her features. She looked every bit the superstar she was—bold, confident, and effortlessly glamorous.

Beside her, Giselle exuded a more understated elegance. Her sleek pink hair framed her face perfectly, softening the angles of her jawline. She wore a tailored blazer dress in deep emerald green, cinched at the waist with a belt that highlighted her figure. Her look was paired with chunky ankle boots, adding a playful edge to her refined style. Subtle gold jewelry caught the light as she moved, her demeanor cool and approachable.

Noticing the newcomers, Somi’s gaze flickered to them, and she flashed a bright, friendly smile. “Hey there! You’re new faces.”

Y/N’s heart skipped slightly at the casual warmth in her tone, but Minji stepped forward first, her voice a mix of excitement and nervousness. “We just got here. This place is amazing.”

“It’s something, isn’t it?” Giselle chimed in, her tone easy and welcoming as her sharp eyes quickly scanned the group. “Are you here with Key?”

Y/N nodded, regaining her composure. “Yeah, we ran into him earlier, and he invited us.”

“Well, Key has good taste,” Somi said with a wink, the corner of her mouth tugging upward in a mischievous grin. “I’m Somi, by the way. And this is Giselle.”

Giselle gave a small wave, her smile soft but genuine. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Y/N and her friends introduced themselves in turn, their initial awkwardness melting under the idols’ casual, welcoming presence. Somi leaned slightly against the bar as they spoke, her interest piqued by the group’s easy camaraderie. “So, what do you guys do?” Giselle asked, her curiosity clearly genuine.

“We’re just regular people,” Y/N replied with a modest smile, her voice steady. “I work in logistics, and these troublemakers are my friends.”

“Troublemakers?” Somi echoed with a laugh, her tone playful. “I like them already.”

Minji grinned, her confidence growing. “Y/N’s the serious one in our group. The rest of us? Chaos. Total chaos.”

“Oh, I can tell,” Giselle said with a knowing smirk, her gaze shifting to Jiho, who was still star-struck. “But it’s good. Regular people with a little chaos? That’s refreshing.”

The bartender arrived with Somi and Giselle’s drinks—Giselle’s a dark cocktail garnished with a twist of orange peel and Somi’s a vibrant pink concoction that matched her bold personality. Y/N couldn’t help but notice the casual way they carried themselves, despite the aura of celebrity that clung to them.

“So, do you guys party often, or is this a once-in-a-blue-moon thing?” Somi asked, swirling her drink as she leaned forward slightly.

Jiho, emboldened by the atmosphere, answered quickly. “We celebrate when we can. Tonight’s special—it’s Y/N’s big promotion!”

“A promotion?” Giselle’s brows rose, her interest clearly piqued. “That’s amazing. Congrats, Y/N.”

“Thanks,” Y/N said with a bashful smile, ducking her head slightly. “It’s been a long road, but worth it.”

Somi raised her glass, her smile turning almost conspiratorial. “Well, that calls for another toast. To promotions, new friends, and a night to remember.”

Y/N raised her own glass with a small smile, her earlier nervousness fading. “Cheers to that.”

The group clinked their glasses, and as the conversation flowed effortlessly, Y/N felt a sense of ease settle over her. Somi’s humor and Giselle’s grounded nature made the idols feel less like untouchable stars and more like people she could genuinely connect with.

“You guys are fun,” Somi declared after a sip of her drink, her gaze sparkling with mischief. “Stick with us tonight. We’ll make sure you have a great time.”

“Careful what you promise,” Y/N teased lightly, her grin matching Somi’s.

The low hum of music and laughter spilled from the various rooms of the villa, but it was the karaoke room that drew Somi’s attention. After finishing their drinks, she turned to Y/N and her friends with a wide grin.

“Alright, karaoke time!” Somi announced, grabbing Y/N’s arm.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, amused. “We just got here. Shouldn’t we, you know, mingle?”

“You can’t hide that voice forever,” Soojin chimed in, nudging her teasingly.

“What voice?” Somi asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Oh, she’s amazing,” Minji said, her eyes sparkling. “But she’s shy about it. You’ll have to drag her up there.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Somi declared. “Let’s go.”

Y/N groaned playfully but couldn’t suppress her smile as Somi led the way with an infectious energy, her friends trailing behind them. The hallway leading to the karaoke room grew quieter, the distant hum of the party fading as they approached. When Somi pushed open the door, Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, taking in the scene before her.

The karaoke room was a cozy yet vibrant haven nestled within the sprawling villa. It was spacious but designed with an intimate feel, the walls lined with plush, velvet-textured panels that absorbed sound and gave the room a luxurious warmth. A massive TV mounted on one wall displayed an animated karaoke menu, its neon colors contrasting against the dim lighting.

The ceiling featured a constellation of tiny, twinkling LED lights, creating the illusion of a starry night above. Along the perimeter of the room, colorful LED accents pulsed faintly to the beat of the music, shifting between deep blues, soft purples, and occasional bursts of gold, casting an ever-changing glow on the occupants.

A semi-circular arrangement of plush leather sofas wrapped around the room’s center, their deep cushions inviting guests to sink in and relax. In front of the TV, a small raised platform served as the makeshift “stage,” complete with two cordless microphones resting on sleek stands. A marble minibar was tucked into one corner, stocked with an array of drinks, from sparkling water to imported liquors, with an elegant countertop illuminated by soft under-lighting.

The air carried a subtle blend of scents—faint notes of citrus from the cocktails and the lingering warmth of expensive cologne. A handful of other partygoers were already there, sprawled comfortably on the sofas, laughing and singing along to the current performance. The karaoke system was state-of-the-art, seamlessly syncing lyrics to music videos displayed in vivid clarity on the screen.

The atmosphere was relaxed yet charged with the kind of energy only found at gatherings where inhibitions were left at the door. The hum of music mingled with bursts of applause and occasional laughter, creating an environment that felt alive, yet somehow comforting.

“This place is insane,” Minji whispered as they stepped inside, her gaze darting from the starry ceiling to the stocked minibar.

“Why am I not surprised?” Soojin added, her voice low as she took in the luxurious details. “Leave it to idols to make karaoke feel like a five-star experience.”

Somi turned back to them, her grin wide as she gestured toward the stage. “Alright, who’s up first?”

Y/N couldn’t resist rolling her eyes as her friends all looked at her expectantly. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late!” Jiho teased, nudging her forward. “You’re the singer in the group. It’s your destiny.”

“Destiny?” Y/N groaned, laughing despite herself. “I thought we were here to relax.”

Somi leaned in conspiratorially. “Relaxation is overrated. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Before Y/N could protest further, Somi grabbed the remote and flipped through the song list, then turned to Y/N. “How about we do a duet? Something fun to break the ice?”

Y/N hesitated, glancing at her friends, who were all grinning at her. “Fine,” she relented with a sigh. “What do you have in mind?”

“‘APT.’ by Rose and Bruno Mars.” Somi said confidently.

Y/N laughed softly. “Alright. Deal.”

As the first notes of “APT.” filled the room, a few heads turned toward the stage out of casual curiosity. The vibrant, synth-driven beat and playful energy of the song were impossible to ignore, and Somi wasted no time diving into her part.

“Kissy face, kissy face, sent to your phone, but, I’m tryna kiss your lips for real,” Somi sang, her voice light and flirtatious as she swayed effortlessly to the rhythm. She twirled on the stage, her blonde hair catching the colorful lights as she pointed cheekily at the crowd. The room buzzed with her energy, and a few partygoers began clapping in time with the beat.

Y/N leaned into the microphone for her turn, her voice steady yet filled with a quiet confidence. “Red hearts, red hearts, that's what I'm on, yeah, come give me somethin' I can feel, oh-oh, oh,” she sang, her soulful tone adding depth to the playful lyrics.

As they moved into the pre-chorus, their voices blended seamlessly. “Don't you want me like I want you, baby? Don’t you need me like I need you now? Sleep tomorrow, but tonight, go crazy, all you gotta do is just meet me at the…” Their harmonies rang out, drawing more attention from the room.

By the time the chorus hit, the energy in the room had shifted completely. “아파트, 아파트, 아파트, 아파트, uh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” they sang in unison, Somi’s vibrant tone and Y/N’s rich, resonant voice weaving together effortlessly. Y/N allowed herself to relax into the performance, swaying to the rhythm and exchanging playful glances with Somi.

On the second verse, Somi turned the spotlight fully onto Y/N, stepping back with a grin as Y/N picked up the next lines. “It's whatever (Whatever), it's whatever (Whatever), it's whatever (Whatever) you like,” Y/N sang, her voice gaining strength as she swayed to the rhythm, her green eyes sparkling under the room’s dim lighting. The playful edge in her delivery was undeniable as she leaned into the next line, “Turn this 아파트 into a club, I'm talkin' drink, dance, smoke, freak, party all night,” adding a touch of charm and mischief that made the audience sit up and take notice.

The shift in the room was palpable. Conversations paused mid-sentence, heads turned, and people began clapping along with the beat. Even those who hadn’t initially been paying attention were now fully captivated by the chemistry and energy on stage.

Near the minibar, Red Velvet’s Wendy looked up from her drink, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity as she leaned toward Irene. “Who is that?” she murmured, gesturing toward the stage.

Irene, who had been watching the performance with quiet intensity, didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze lingered on Y/N, drawn in by the ease with which she commanded the song. Y/N’s stage presence was magnetic—her voice rich and controlled, her every movement natural yet captivating. She wasn’t just singing; she was performing as if she belonged on a stage.

As the song reached its bridge, Y/N and Somi both leaned into the mics, their voices intertwining effortlessly. “Hey, so now you know the game, are you ready? 'Cause I'm comin' to get ya, get ya, get ya,” they sang, their playful delivery eliciting cheers from the crowd. Somi twirled again, encouraging the onlookers to clap along, while Y/N’s voice carried the weight of the next line: “Hold on, hold on, I’m on my way… yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah, yeah, I’m on my way…”

By the final chorus, the room was fully alive with energy. The crowd clapped and swayed to the infectious beat, and even the idols who had been lounging on the sofas were now leaning forward, their attention firmly fixed on the stage.

“아파트, 아파트, 아파트, 아파트, uh, uh-huh, uh-huh,” the two sang together, their voices blending in a vibrant crescendo that brought the performance to a powerful close. The final note lingered in the air for a beat before the room erupted into cheers and applause.

Somi, slightly breathless but grinning wide, threw an arm around Y/N. “Okay, okay, I see you!” she teased into the mic. “We’ve got a superstar in the house tonight!”

Y/N, her cheeks flushed from the attention, laughed and shook her head as she handed the microphone back. “I think you’re exaggerating,” she said modestly, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her exhilaration.

“Exaggerating? Please,” Somi shot back with a smirk, addressing the crowd. “Y’all saw that, right? She owned it.”

Amidst the laughter and applause, Y/N glanced at her friends, who were practically bouncing with excitement.

Somi grabbed the microphone with a flourish, her grin wide and mischievous. Turning to the room, she waved her hand theatrically. “Alright, she’s warmed up now. Time to let her shine.”

Y/N shot her a look that was half-glare, half-smile. “You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”

Somi smirked, scrolling through the song list. “Oh, you’ll thank me later.” Her eyes lit up when she found her choice. She turned the screen toward Y/N with a playful glint in her eye, selecting Seulgi’s “28 Reasons.”

Y/N groaned softly, running a hand through her hair. “You’re evil.”

“Exactly,” Somi whispered with a wink, handing her the mic as the first haunting notes of the song filled the room. A soft whistle echoed through the speakers, followed by the deep, hypnotic bassline that set the tone. The playful yet ominous melody seemed to hum with tension, pulling the room into its orbit.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N stepped forward, her entire demeanor shifting. As if a switch had flipped, she stood taller, her eyes narrowing with focus. The playful edge from her previous performance was gone, replaced by a poised, commanding presence. With the mic in hand, she became someone else entirely—intense, magnetic, and impossible to look away from.

Her voice slid into the first line, sultry and deliberate. “I kiss your brother, 그 맘 훔쳐, 독이 퍼져도 못 느껴, my pleasure.” The rich timbre of her voice sent a ripple through the room, her delivery both teasing and dangerous, perfectly capturing the song’s duality. Her gaze swept across the crowd, lingering just long enough to draw them into the story of the lyrics.

“짓궂은 반칙, 떨리는 눈빛, 그런 널 보는 게 참 재밌어, 웃겨,” she sang, her tone playful yet dripping with wicked amusement. Her movements were subtle but purposeful—a small step forward, a tilt of her head, the faintest curve of her lips. It wasn’t over-the-top; it was controlled, calculated, and utterly entrancing.

As the pre-chorus began, Y/N’s voice softened, drawing the audience closer. “Ooh, ooh, I'm breaking every rule 자꾸만 괴롭히고 싶은걸” she sang, her tone haunting and deliberate. The room seemed to hold its breath, the pulsing LED lights reflecting off her figure as she moved fluidly with the music. The tension in her delivery perfectly matched the song’s groovy bassline, her voice weaving between playful temptation and subtle danger. Every syllable carried the duality of the song’s themes—good and evil, attraction and chaos.

By the time she hit the chorus, the energy in the room had shifted entirely. “널 망친 28 reasons 몰라도 돼, 나쁜 의도 없어 내겐, 도망칠 28 reasons 다 아는데, 왜 또다시 내게 기대?” Her voice soared effortlessly, powerful and precise, capturing the delicate balance of innocence and mischievous intent. Her performance seemed to radiate a duality that echoed the very essence of the song—a mix of allure and danger, seduction and defiance.

Some of the partygoers began swaying in time with the music, their earlier chatter completely forgotten. A few idols had moved closer to the stage, their eyes fixed on Y/N as if trying to figure out how a “regular” guest could exude such star-like energy.

In the back of the room, Seulgi was leaning forward, her excitement unmistakable. She nudged Irene, her voice barely above a whisper. “She’s singing my song. And she’s good.”

Irene didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze remained locked on Y/N, her expression unreadable but undeniably intrigued. The way Y/N embodied the song—the subtle interplay of light and shadow in her delivery, the way she commanded the room without trying too hard—was something Irene hadn’t expected. There was no hesitation, no doubt. It was as if Y/N was made for this.

The eerie melody lingered as she delivered the next lines with controlled intensity. “You in danger, But it's okay, You're a grown-up.” Her voice dropped to a lower register, sending a ripple through the room as every word landed with weight, pulling the audience deeper into the story she was telling.

Then came the final chorus, and Y/N let her voice swell, each note pouring out with a raw intensity that left no room for distraction. “천국을 보여 줄게, I’m not the devil, 마음껏 더 원망해, I don’t care, 망가질수록 나를 원해.” Her voice climbed to its peak before fading into the final, haunting note, the sound reverberating through the room like a lingering echo.

The silence that followed was electric, the room still caught in the grip of her performance. Then, as if snapping out of a trance, the audience erupted into cheers and applause, their enthusiasm ringing out loud and clear.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed faintly as she handed the microphone back to Somi, her earlier confidence melting into a shy smile as she stepped off the stage. Her friends were already cheering loudly, their pride evident in their beaming faces.

Somi grabbed her by the arm, her grin wide. “What did I tell you? You killed it!”

“I think you just wanted to embarrass me,” Y/N teased, though the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her again.

“Embarrass you? Please,” Somi shot back. “I just gave the people what they wanted—your superstar moment.”

As Y/N made her way back to her friends, she couldn’t help but notice someone’s gaze lingering on her from across the room, the faintest hint of a smile playing on the idol’s lips.

Y/N barely had time to sink into the plush sofa before she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Seulgi, Wendy, and Irene. Their presence was striking—not just because of their fame, but because they carried themselves with a natural, understated confidence that filled the space around them.

Seulgi stood at the forefront, her bright smile a perfect match to her friendly demeanor. Her shoulder-length, wavy black hair framed her face effortlessly, and her casual yet chic outfit—a tailored blazer paired with relaxed trousers and bold sneakers—made her look approachable yet undeniably stylish. She exuded an easy warmth, like someone who could make anyone feel at home.

Wendy, standing slightly to the side, had a spark of energy about her that seemed to draw people in. Her short, sleek hair fell just below her chin, accentuating her radiant smile and sharp, sparkling eyes. She wore a soft lavender blouse tucked into high-waisted pants, a look that balanced playfulness with sophistication. There was an air of grounded humor to her, as though she could lighten any moment with a single witty comment.

And then there was Irene.

She stood just behind the others, slightly to the left, her posture poised yet effortlessly relaxed. The soft lighting of the room seemed to gravitate toward her, catching the sleek fall of her dark hair, which was parted perfectly and cascaded over one shoulder in polished waves. She wore a black, fitted midi-dress that emphasized her slender figure with understated elegance. The minimalist design of the dress—no embellishments, no distractions—only served to highlight her natural beauty.

But it wasn’t just her appearance that drew Y/N’s attention—it was the quiet command she exuded, the way her presence seemed to fill the space without effort or pretense. There was a subtle magnetism in the way she carried herself, as though every movement was deliberate, every glance imbued with a thoughtfulness that set her apart.

Her eyes, deep and expressive, lingered on Y/N for a fraction longer than seemed necessary, as if she were assessing something beyond the surface. They held a quiet intensity, a softness that seemed to say she saw more than what was immediately apparent. When their gazes met, Y/N felt the air between them shift—subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniably there.

Irene’s lips curved into the faintest smile, a gesture so subtle it could have been missed if Y/N hadn’t been paying attention. But she was. There was something about the quiet grace in that moment, the way Irene stood as though the chaos of the party existed around her but not with her, that left Y/N slightly breathless.

“Hi,” Seulgi said warmly, her signature bright smile instantly putting Y/N at ease. “I just wanted to thank you for singing my song. Most people go for the more mainstream ones, but it means a lot that you picked ‘28 Reasons.’”

Y/N blinked in surprise, her smile widening. “It’s a great song,” she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden attention. “It’s so layered and expressive—it really speaks to you. Thank you for writing it.”

Seulgi’s eyes lit up at the compliment. “I’m glad it came through that way. You really nailed the feeling behind it.”

Wendy, standing slightly to the side, leaned forward with a grin. “You’ve got some serious talent,” she said, her tone genuinely impressed. “Are you a singer?”

Y/N laughed softly, brushing off the praise with a wave of her hand. “Not at all. Just a regular person with a karaoke habit.”

Irene, who had been quietly observing the interaction, tilted her head slightly, her eyes narrowing as if studying Y/N. When she finally spoke, her tone was soft but pointed. “You didn’t seem like a regular person up there.”

The words lingered, carrying more weight than Y/N expected. For a moment, she was caught off guard, meeting Irene’s steady gaze. The intensity in Irene’s voice didn’t feel like flattery—it felt like an observation, almost like a challenge. Y/N wasn’t sure how to respond, but before she could speak, Wendy’s laugh broke the silence.

“Well, whatever you are,” Wendy said, her voice light but filled with sincerity, “you’ve got some star power.”

Seulgi nodded enthusiastically, her grin widening. “Seriously. If you ever decide to give this a shot professionally, let us know. You’d be a natural.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush, a mix of pride and disbelief washing over her. “Thank you,” she said earnestly. “That means more than you know, coming from you.”

Her friends, sitting a little further back, were visibly beaming, Minji even giving Y/N a small thumbs-up as if to say, I told you so.

The interaction could have ended there, but Irene’s gaze lingered on Y/N for just a beat longer. There was something unreadable in her expression—curiosity, perhaps, or something deeper. Finally, she glanced away and turned to follow Seulgi and Wendy as they excused themselves.

Just before she disappeared back into the crowd, Irene glanced over her shoulder one last time, her dark eyes meeting Y/N’s. There was no smile, no nod, just a fleeting look that carried a quiet intensity. It was over in an instant, but it left Y/N wondering what, exactly, Irene had seen in her up on that stage.

As the Red Velvet members disappeared into the sea of partygoers, Y/N turned back to her friends, who were already bursting with excitement.

“Did that just happen?” Minji whispered, leaning forward. “Like, the real Seulgi, Wendy, and Irene just came to talk to you?”

“And complimented you,” Soojin added, her tone practically giddy. “Don’t forget that part.”

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly as she reached for her drink. “Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

Minji smirked. “Oh, no. This is a big deal.”

The noise and energy of the karaoke room still buzzed in Y/N’s ears as she slipped into the main part of the villa. The distant hum of music and laughter filled the open space, but it was quieter here—a welcome reprieve from the vibrant chaos of the party. Her friends were still soaking up the atmosphere, mingling with idols, and basking in the glow of the night. Y/N, however, needed a moment to herself.

She wandered toward the bar, the open kitchen bathed in soft, ambient lighting that gave the space a cozy warmth despite its sleek, modern design. The marble countertops gleamed under the low lights, and the faint scent of citrus and mint lingered in the air from freshly made cocktails. Sliding onto a stool, Y/N signaled to the bartender for a glass of water.

The cool glass was a relief in her hands, grounding her as her mind swirled with the night’s events. The karaoke performances, the compliments from Red Velvet, the sheer absurdity of being at a party surrounded by some of the biggest names in the industry—it was exhilarating and surreal, but also overwhelming. She stared into the clear water, her reflection faint and distorted on its surface.

“Taking a break?”

The voice was soft, almost hesitant, but unmistakable. Y/N turned, her breath catching slightly as she found herself face-to-face with Irene. Up close, away from the noise and the crowd, Irene seemed almost ethereal. The dim lighting softened her features, and the slight curiosity in her calm expression made her feel approachable, even as her presence carried an air of quiet authority.

“Yeah,” Y/N replied, letting out a small laugh to mask her surprise. “Needed to catch my breath. This is… a lot.”

Irene nodded, her lips curving into a faint, understanding smile. “It can be. Especially if you’re not used to it.” She gestured toward the bartender. “A glass of water, please.”

Y/N chuckled, leaning lightly against the counter. “Not a fan of cocktails?”

Irene shook her head, the corners of her mouth lifting in a faintly amused expression. “Not really. I prefer tea, but that’s hard to come by at parties like this.”

“Tea?” Y/N asked, tilting her head. “That’s… surprisingly low-key.”

Irene raised an eyebrow, a glint of humor flashing in her eyes. “Should I have said champagne? Would that fit the image better?”

Y/N laughed, the tension easing from her shoulders. “No, tea’s perfect. You don’t strike me as someone who does anything just to fit an image.”

Irene’s smile softened, her gaze flickering downward briefly before returning to Y/N. “You’d be surprised how often people try to tell me otherwise.”

For a moment, a comfortable silence settled between them, the quiet clink of glasses and the murmur of distant conversation filling the space. Y/N found herself studying Irene—the way her posture was effortlessly elegant, the way her presence seemed to fill the room without demanding attention. Yet, there was a softness to her up close, a vulnerability that the cameras never seemed to capture.

“Do you ever get used to it?” Y/N asked after a moment. “The attention? The noise?”

Irene exhaled softly, her gaze shifting to the glass of water the bartender placed in front of her. “Not entirely,” she admitted, her tone thoughtful. “But you find ways to cope. You have to.”

Y/N nodded, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes. “Speaking of coping…”

Irene’s nose crinkled slightly, an expression of subtle distaste flickering across her face before she could mask it. Y/N froze, catching the reaction immediately.

“You don’t like smoking,” Y/N said, her tone more observational than accusatory.

Irene hesitated, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “I don’t hate it,” she said carefully, “but it’s not my favorite thing.”

Y/N considered this for a moment, glancing down at the pack in her hand. She hesitated, the weight of the decision lingering in the air between them. Then, with a decisive motion, she walked to the nearby trash bin and tossed the pack inside.

Irene’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, why did you do that?”

Y/N shrugged as she returned to her seat. “You said you didn’t like it. No point in making you uncomfortable.”

The honesty in her tone caught Irene off guard. For a moment, she simply stared at Y/N, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering in her eyes. “That was… unexpected.”

Y/N leaned her elbows on the counter, a small, teasing smile playing at her lips. “Good unexpected or bad?”

“Good,” Irene admitted, the faintest hint of pink coloring her cheeks as a smile tugged at her lips. Her gaze softened, and for the first time that night, her guarded demeanor seemed to melt just slightly.

“Well, I’m glad I can surprise you,” Y/N replied, her tone light but sincere.

As Irene took a sip of her water, Y/N couldn’t help but feel the shift in the air between them—a quiet understanding, a shared moment of something unspoken.

The faint hum of the party buzzed around them, but here at the bar, the atmosphere felt quieter, more personal. Y/N swirled the last bit of water in her glass, her gaze occasionally flickering toward Irene, who was sitting poised yet relaxed. Their conversation had started with casual pleasantries but had slowly shifted into something deeper, the kind of exchange that left Y/N wanting to know more.

Y/N glanced toward the large glass doors leading to the balcony. The soft glow of the city lights outside promised a peaceful escape from the bustling villa. She hesitated for a moment, debating whether to ask. There was something unspoken between them, a subtle connection that she couldn’t quite name. It was a gamble, but something about Irene’s quiet presence made her want to take the risk.

“Do you want to step outside?” Y/N asked, her tone casual yet inviting. She nodded toward the balcony. “It’s quieter out there. A little easier to breathe.”

Irene tilted her head, her brown eyes meeting Y/N’s with curiosity. “Are you trying to get me away from the party?” she asked lightly, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Maybe,” Y/N replied with a playful shrug. “Or maybe I just thought you could use a break too.”

For a moment, Irene studied her, as if weighing the offer. Then, without a word, she picked up her glass of water and stood, her movements graceful. “Alright,” she said softly. “Lead the way.”

Y/N smiled, gesturing toward the doors as she moved to open them.

As they stepped onto the balcony, the cold night air hit them like a gentle wave, crisp and sharp against their skin. Y/N barely flinched, used to chilly nights, but she noticed the way Irene folded her arms close to her body, her black midi-dress offering little warmth against the biting air. The faint glow from the city lights illuminated her features—the delicate curve of her profile, the faint blush on her cheeks from the cold, and the way her breath formed soft, fleeting clouds in the air. Irene’s hair, cascading over one shoulder, caught the light, creating a subtle shimmer that made her seem almost ethereal as she gazed out at the view. A slight shiver ran through her, though she made no move to complain or retreat indoors.

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before shrugging off her jacket. “Here,” she said softly, stepping closer. Without waiting for a reply, she draped the jacket over Irene’s shoulders, the motion smooth and casual but deliberate. “You’ll freeze otherwise.”

Irene blinked, surprised by the gesture. She glanced down at the jacket and then back at Y/N, her lips parting as if to protest. “You’ll be cold,” she said, her tone quiet but laced with concern.

“I’ll survive,” Y/N replied with a small grin. “You’re the star. You can’t get sick, or your fans would be mad.”

Irene’s cheeks tinged pink, though whether it was from the cold or the compliment, she couldn’t tell. She clutched the jacket around her shoulders, the fabric warm from Y/N’s body heat and carrying the faint scent of Y/N perfume. It was comforting in a way she hadn’t expected, grounding her amidst the unfamiliar intimacy of the moment.

“Thank you,” Irene said after a beat, her voice soft but sincere. She looked at Y/N, her gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

Y/N nodded, her grin widening slightly. “No problem. Can’t have you turning into an ice sculpture out here.”

Irene let out a small laugh, the sound quiet but genuine, and turned her attention back to the city lights below. The chill of the air seemed less noticeable now, the weight of the jacket and the presence of Y/N beside her somehow enough to keep it at bay.

Irene glanced at Y/N, who seemed lost in thought as she gazed at the cityscape. There was something about the woman’s presence—unassuming yet quietly magnetic—that made Irene feel unusually at ease.

“Irene… or Joohyun?” Y/N asked suddenly, her voice breaking the silence with a playful lilt.

Irene’s brow furrowed slightly, her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

“Well, which name do you prefer when you’re not on stage?” Y/N turned her head, her green eyes meeting Irene’s warm brown ones with an open, curious expression.

“Joohyun,” Irene replied after a moment, her voice soft. “It feels more… me.”

Y/N smiled, the corners of her lips curling gently. “Joohyun it is, then.”

For a few beats, they stood in comfortable silence, the quiet between them filled only with the faint hum of traffic below and the occasional gust of wind. The moment felt suspended in time, the city sprawling before them as if they were the only two people in the world.

“Can we please start talking informally?” Irene’s voice was gentle but direct, her gaze steady as she looked at Y/N.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Only if you’re comfortable with it. Since you’re the unnie,” she added with a teasing tone.

Irene blinked, momentarily startled. Then she let out a soft laugh, the sound like a quiet melody carried on the cold air. “Wait. ‘Unnie’? You’re younger than me?”

Y/N chuckled, her breath forming small clouds in the cold.

The surprise on Irene’s face was endearing, her eyebrows raising slightly as she tilted her head in curiosity. “How old are you?”

“That would be too easy,” Y/N teased, leaning casually against the railing. “Why don’t you guess?”

Irene crossed her arms under the jacket, pretending to consider it carefully as her lips quirked in amusement. “Hmmm… I’ll say… 30?”

Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the open air. “Not even close! Wow, I must look really mature to you.”

Irene furrowed her brows, equal parts amused and puzzled. “So, how old are you, then?”

“Well..” Y/N said, leaning in slightly with a playful grin, “I was born in 1999. Does the age gap bother you?”

Joohyun froze for a moment, the unexpected answer catching her off guard. The casual confidence in Y/N’s tone contrasted with the weight of the question. “Eight years…” Irene repeated softly, her voice trailing off as she processed the revelation.

Y/N studied her closely, noticing the flicker of uncertainty in Irene’s expression. “It’s okay if it’s weird,” Y/N said quickly, her voice gentle. “I get it if the age gap is a problem. I just—”

“No,” Irene cut her off, shaking her head slightly. “It’s not that. I just didn’t expect you to be so… young. You seem much older.”

“Older, huh?” Y/N teased, her grin widening. “Should I be flattered or worried?”

Irene smiled despite herself, her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “Flattered, I think. You’re very mature.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, the warmth in her tone softening the moment. “But honestly, I think age is just a number. It’s how you connect with someone that matters, right?”

Irene hesitated, her gaze shifting back to the city lights below. “You’re right,” she said softly, her voice thoughtful. “It’s just… different for me. I’ve always been cautious about letting people in.”

“Well, I’m not here to complicate your life, Joohyun,” Y/N said sincerely. “I just… really enjoy talking to you.”

The simplicity of her words made Irene’s heart flutter, the sincerity behind them resonating more than she expected. The weight of the age difference, the boundaries Irene had carefully built around herself—it all seemed to fade in the quiet warmth of the moment. For the first time in a long while, she allowed herself to simply be.

Just as Irene opened her mouth to reply, the balcony doors swung open, the spell of the moment breaking as Joy’s cheerful voice filled the space.

“There you are, unnie! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said, her tone playful as her eyes darted between Irene and Y/N, her grin widening with mischief.

Irene straightened, her professional demeanor slipping back into place, though her hands clutched the jacket more tightly around her shoulders.

“I was just…” Irene began, but Joy’s teasing smirk interrupted her.

“Having a moment,” Joy finished with a dramatic tone, her eyes sparkling. “I see that.”

Y/N chuckled, stepping back from the railing with a shrug. “I should probably get back to my friends anyway. Thanks for the chat, Joohyun.”

Irene’s lips parted as if to say something, but no words came out. She only nodded, her gaze lingering on Y/N.

As Y/N turned to leave, Irene called after her softly, “Thank you for the jacket. I’ll return it before the night’s over.”

“Keep it,” Y/N replied over her shoulder, a grin flashing in the dim light. “It suits you better.”

Irene stood there for a moment, clutching the jacket tightly as the scent of Y/N lingered around her. Joy tilted her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“So…” Joy began, her tone light but loaded with curiosity. “Who was that?”

Irene didn’t reply immediately, her gaze still fixed on the now-closed door. “Someone different,” she said finally, her voice soft, almost wistful.

Joy smirked. “Different, huh?”

Irene glanced at her, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Let’s get back to the party.”

The next morning light filtered softly through Irene’s curtains, painting her room in hues of gold and cream. She sat at her vanity, absently running a brush through her dark hair, the rhythmic motion a habit more than necessity. Her gaze wandered to the Prada jacket draped over the chair beside her, its sleek fabric catching the light. A silent reminder of the night before.

Her hand stilled, the brush hovering mid-air as her thoughts inevitably returned to Y/N.

Joohyun had met countless people throughout her career—smiling faces at fan events, fellow celebrities at events, industry professionals at photoshoots. Most blurred together, their interactions fleeting and transactional. But Y/N wasn’t like the others. Her calm confidence, genuine warmth, and selflessness had lingered in Irene’s mind like the last notes of a favorite song.

She sighed, setting the brush down on the vanity with a soft clink. Picking up her phone, she stared at the screen for a long moment, her thumb hovering indecisively over the messaging app. Finally, she stood and left her room, seeking a second opinion.

“Seulgi?” Irene called out as she entered the living room. The younger member was sprawled across the couch, scrolling through her phone lazily, one leg draped over the armrest.

Seulgi looked up, her brows raised in mild curiosity. “What’s up, unnie?”

Irene hesitated, trying to keep her voice casual. “Do you have Giselle’s contact information?”

Seulgi sat up, her curiosity sharpening. “Why? Looking to hang out with the Aespa juniors now?”

Irene gave her a pointed look. “I need her help getting in touch with someone from last night.”

“Oh?” Seulgi’s lips curved into a teasing smirk as she sat cross-legged on the couch. “Who?”

Irene’s reply was quiet, almost reluctant. “Y/N.”

Seulgi’s smirk widened, her tone turning mischievous. “Y/N? The karaoke superstar?”

“Seulgi,” Irene warned, her tone light but edged with impatience.

“Alright, alright,” Seulgi relented with a laugh, reaching for her phone. She tapped the screen a few times before raising it to her ear. “I’ll call Giselle for you.”

Irene crossed her arms, leaning lightly against the back of the couch as she waited. Her mind drived back to the jacket in her room. The faint scent of Y/N perfume still clung to it, and despite herself, she found the smell comforting.

After a brief exchange, Seulgi ended the call and grinned. “Good news, unnie. Giselle can get Y/N’s number from one of her friends. She’ll send it to me asap.”

Irene’s pulse quickened, a quiet flutter of anticipation rising in her chest. She took the phone from Seulgi as the message came through, the string of digits appearing on the screen like a secret invitation.

Seulgi watched her with a curious tilt of her head. “You seem pretty interested in Y/N.”

“She left her jacket, it's a pretty expensive one.” Irene replied quickly, her tone carefully even as she gestured toward the item in question.

“Uh-huh,” Seulgi replied, clearly unconvinced but unwilling to press further.

Back in her room, Irene sat on the edge of her bed, holding her phone in her hands. The contact information stared back at her, deceptively simple, yet it felt impossibly daunting. The idea of texting Y/N—of deliberately reaching out—was both exciting and terrifying.

Her mind drifted back to their moment on the balcony. The way Y/N had laughed so easily at her miscalculated age guess lingered in Irene’s mind. That laugh—bright, genuine, and free of judgment—had slipped past her usual defenses with an ease that was both unsettling and comforting. Y/N’s bold, self-assured admission of their eight-year gap had carried no hesitation, as though it was a simple fact rather than an obstacle. And then there were her words, delivered with such sincerity: Age is just a number. It’s how you connect with someone that matters, right?

The sincerity in Y/N’s voice had struck a chord in Irene, brushing aside her carefully constructed doubts in the moment. But now, alone in the quiet of her room, those doubts crept back in, louder and more insistent.

They mattered.

“She’s so young,” Irene’s inner voice whispered, sharp and critical, curling like smoke at the edges of her thoughts. “What will people think? What if she doesn’t understand how complicated this is? What if it’s just some fleeting infatuation for her? Something she’ll laugh about one day as a passing phase?”

Her thumb hovered over the text field on her phone as she chewed her lip. Her free hand tightened into a fist on her lap.

It wasn’t just the age gap, though it loomed large in her mind. Y/N was everything Irene was usually cautious about: spontaneous, disarmingly open, and seemingly unbothered by the walls Irene had spent years building around herself. The younger woman didn’t seem to care about appearances or expectations, brushing off Irene’s hesitations as though they were irrelevant.

And yet, those hesitations were relevant. Irene had spent most of her adult life guarding her personal world with almost military precision. It wasn’t just the media or her career—it was the deep fear of letting someone in, of giving someone the power to disrupt the delicate balance she maintained.

Her stomach twisted with doubt. What if I misread her? What if I let my guard down, only to regret it?

The jacket hanging on the chair caught her eye again, its presence both comforting and taunting. Y/N had handed it over without a second thought, brushing aside Irene’s concern about her getting cold with a playful comment: You’re the star. You can’t get sick, or your fans would be mad.

That memory softened the tightness in her chest.

Y/N’s easy laughter, her straightforwardness, and the way she had tossed away her cigarette pack without a moment’s hesitation—it all played in Irene’s mind like a highlight reel. Y/N had done it for her. Not for appearances, not for some ulterior motive, but because she wanted to.

The thought disarmed Irene again, just as it had on the balcony. Y/N’s actions weren’t about impressing anyone—they were about sincerity. And sincerity was something Irene rarely encountered in her world of carefully managed interactions and calculated relationships.

Her doubts pushed back, louder this time. “But what if she’s too young to understand what she’s asking for? What if I’m too set in my ways to even try?”

She inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and pressing the phone against her chest.

Stop.

The word echoed firmly in her mind, her own voice this time, clearer and steadier. “This isn’t about other people, and it’s not about the age gap. It’s about her.”

Y/N’s words from the balcony returned, calm and earnest: I’m not here to complicate your life, Joohyun. I just… really enjoy talking to you.

Those words hadn’t been a promise or a demand. They were an offering—a simple, genuine connection. Irene realized that the only thing standing in the way of accepting it was her own fear.

She took another deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she began typing. The words came slowly at first, her mind second-guessing every letter.

Hi, this is Joohyun. I hope you don’t mind me contacting you. I’d like to return your jacket and maybe talk for a bit, if that’s alright. Let me know when you’re free.

She stared at the message for a long moment, her thumb hovering over the send button. The doubts whispered again, quieter now but still present: “What if this changes everything?”

But then she thought of Y/N’s laugh, the way it had made her feel lighter for the first time in weeks.

With a decisive exhale, Irene hit send.

The message hung in the air, the seconds ticking by feeling impossibly long.

When Y/N’s reply came through quicker than expected, Irene’s chest tightened.

Hi, Joohyun! Of course, I don’t mind. I’m free most evenings after work. Just let me know what works best for you.

Irene exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A small smile tugged at her lips as she quickly typed a reply, suggesting they meet at Y/N’s apartment to avoid any unwanted attention.

With the plan set, Irene placed her phone down and leaned back against her headboard, staring up at the ceiling. The uncertainty still lingered, but now it was outweighed by something else entirely—a quiet anticipation, tinged with the faintest spark of hope.

For the first time in a long while, Joohyun allowed herself to wonder what might come next.

The faint sound of soft jazz played in the background as Y/N set down two steaming mugs of tea on her small but neatly arranged coffee table. She glanced around her apartment, ensuring everything was in order. It wasn’t fancy, but it was cozy and reflected her personality: bookshelves lined with novels and travel guides, framed photos of her family and friends, and a faint scent of vanilla lingering in the air.

Her heart skipped a beat when the intercom buzzed. “It’s Joohyun,” came the familiar, soft voice.

Y/N pressed the button to unlock the door and stepped back, taking a calming breath. Moments later, there was a knock, and when she opened the door, Irene stood there, jacket in hand.

“Hi,” Irene said, a small, polite smile on her lips.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, stepping aside to let her in. “Come on in. It’s freezing out there.”

Irene slipped off her coat, revealing a simple but elegant turtleneck and tailored pants. She handed Y/N the jacket. “Thanks for lending this to me. I wasn’t sure how to return it without it being… awkward.”

Y/N chuckled, setting the jacket on a nearby chair. “It’s just a jacket. You didn’t have to go through all the trouble of texting and coming over.”

“I wanted to,” Irene admitted, her voice soft.

They settled onto the couch, the soft cushions sinking under their weight as the aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the room. Irene cradled her mug, letting the warmth seep into her palms as she looked around, her gaze landing on a small stack of books neatly arranged on the coffee table.

“You read a lot,” she noted, the observation tinged with curiosity.

“It’s my escape,” Y/N said, her smile soft but genuine. “And my excuse to stay in when my friends are being too wild.”

Irene chuckled, the sound low and melodic as she took a sip of her tea. “Your friends are… energetic.”

“That’s putting it lightly,” Y/N replied with a laugh, her green eyes twinkling. “But they mean well. Honestly, they’re the reason I even ended up at that party.”

Irene tilted her head slightly, her gaze sharpening with interest. “Kibum mentioned how you helped him,” she said, her tone shifting to something more serious. “That was brave of you.”

Y/N shrugged, the motion casual but unassuming. “I didn’t really think about it. It just felt like the right thing to do.”

Irene studied her for a moment, the admiration clear in her gaze. The simplicity in Y/N’s words—no need for embellishment or grandeur—made them feel all the more sincere. “You don’t act like someone your age,” Irene said finally, the words slipping out before she could think better of it.

Y/N smirked, leaning slightly forward. “Here we go again with the age thing.”

Irene’s cheeks tinged pink as she looked down at her mug, embarrassed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Y/N said softly, setting her own mug on the table. The playful teasing in her tone gave way to something gentler. “And for what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s a big deal. The age difference, I mean.”

Irene hesitated, her fingers tightening around her mug as her thoughts wrestled for clarity. “It’s not that I think it’s a problem. It’s just…” She trailed off, her gaze drifting briefly to the tea in her hands before lifting back to Y/N. “I’ve never met someone quite like you.”

Intrigued, Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

Irene seemed to consider her words carefully, her expression briefly vulnerable. “Most people, when they realize who I am… there’s a shift. It’s subtle, but it’s always there. They start treating me like an idol instead of just a person. But with you…” She met Y/N’s gaze, her brown eyes steady and open. “You don’t do that. You treat me like… Joohyun.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. “Because that’s who you are, isn’t it? Joohyun first, Irene second.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Irene’s face, followed by a warmth that softened her features in a way that caught Y/N off guard. “Not everyone sees it that way,” Irene admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Well, I’m not everyone,” Y/N replied, her tone light but tinged with sincerity.

“That’s clear,” Irene murmured, almost to herself, her lips curving into a faint smile. She shifted slightly on the couch, letting herself relax further as the tension in her shoulders eased. “You have this way of making people feel at ease. It’s… different.”

Y/N tilted her head, a playful glint in her eyes. “Different good or different bad?”

Irene chuckled softly, shaking her head as she brought her mug to her lips. “Definitely good.”

Y/N leaned back against the couch, one arm draped casually along the backrest as her expression turned teasing. “Good to know I’ve passed the Joohyun compatibility test.”

Irene laughed, the sound bright and unguarded, and shook her head again. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied with a grin, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you’re still here, so I must be doing something right.”

Irene smirked, the playful banter putting her at ease. “Or maybe I’m just too polite to leave.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” Y/N shot back, her tone full of mock agreement.

The warmth of the moment wrapped around them like the steam curling from their mugs. For Irene, it was strange and yet refreshing—how natural it felt to sit here, trading words with Y/N as though they’d known each other far longer than just a few days. She wasn’t sure what it was about Y/N—the straightforwardness, the calm confidence, the refusal to tiptoe around her like most people did—but it felt disarmingly easy.

For Y/N, the moment felt almost surreal. She could see the layers of Joohyun—the idol, the perfectionist, the guarded woman—and yet, here and now, she was seeing someone else. Someone softer, someone real.

“I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a while,” Irene admitted quietly, almost as if to herself.

“Well,” Y/N said, her voice light but tinged with warmth, “I’m glad I could help with that.”

And for a brief moment, as their gazes held, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

They talked for a while longer, their conversation drifting to lighter topics: favorite movies, dream destinations, and the quirks of their respective friends.

“You’re really close to your group, aren’t you?” Y/N asked, leaning forward slightly as she rested her chin on her hand.

“They’re like family,” Irene replied, her voice carrying a quiet fondness. “We’ve been through so much together. I don’t know where I’d be without them.” Her lips curved into a small smile, but there was a weight in her words that hinted at the challenges behind the bond.

“I get that,” Y/N said after a thoughtful pause. “I moved here alone, so my friends kind of became my family. They’ve been amazing, but… it’s not the same as having people who’ve been through it all with you. People who just get it.”

For a moment, Irene’s expression softened, her brown eyes reflecting an unspoken understanding. “It’s hard,” she murmured, her gaze dropping briefly to the mug in her hands. “Letting people in, even when they mean well.”

Y/N nodded, the quiet bond between them deepening. The world outside her apartment—Seoul’s noise, its bright lights, its expectations—felt far away, like a distant memory they didn’t need to revisit just yet.

Eventually, the conversation shifted to the stack of DVDs on Y/N’s shelf, the gleaming plastic cases catching Irene’s attention.

“You still have DVDs?” Irene asked, a rare playful glint sparking in her eyes.

“They’re classics,” Y/N defended with a mock-offended look, her grin betraying her amusement. “Besides, they work when the internet goes out. You can’t put a price on reliable entertainment.”

Irene chuckled, shaking her head. “You sound like an infomercial.”

“Hey, don’t knock it,” Y/N shot back, getting up to rummage through the stack. “You’ll appreciate it when the apocalypse hits, and I’m the only one with a working movie library.”

“Sure,” Irene replied dryly, but the amusement in her voice was unmistakable.

After some back-and-forth, they finally settled on a romantic comedy. Irene seemed more relaxed now, her usual polished demeanor replaced with an easy warmth. She tucked her legs beneath her on the couch, the mug of tea still cradled in her hands, and let out a quiet sigh of contentment.

As the movie began, their laughter blended with the antics on screen, filling the apartment with a lightness neither of them realized they’d needed.

Credits started rolling, the final strains of the movie’s theme fading into the quiet hum of the apartment, Y/N turned to Irene. Her heart pounded slightly, her confidence wavering for the first time all night. The words she wanted to say seemed caught in her throat, the weight of the moment pressing down on her.

“Joohyun… can I ask you something?” Y/N finally said, her voice softer than usual.

Irene turned to her, tilting her head slightly, her gaze warm and attentive. “Of course,” she replied, her tone calm, though curiosity flickered in her gaze.

Y/N hesitated, her fingers fidgeting slightly with the edge of the couch cushion. The confidence she was usually known for felt just out of reach, but she pushed through the nerves. “Would you… maybe want to go out with me sometime? Just the two of us. Somewhere quiet, away from all the chaos.”

Irene blinked, caught off guard by the suddenness of the question. The silence stretched just long enough for doubt to creep into Y/N’s chest. She wondered if she had misread all the signals—the stolen glances, the lingering smiles, the way Irene’s presence had felt so natural beside her.

But then Irene’s expression softened, and a small, genuine smile spread across her lips. It reached her eyes, making them sparkle in the dim light.

“I’d like that,” Irene said softly, her voice carrying a sincerity that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her shoulders relaxing as a grin broke across her face. “Really?”

“Really,” Irene affirmed, setting her now-empty mug down on the coffee table. “I wasn’t expecting you to ask, but I’m glad you did.”

Y/N’s grin widened, her earlier nerves melting away into quiet excitement. “I’ll text you the details soon,” she said, her voice gaining its usual steady confidence.

“Looking forward to it,” Irene replied, her tone light but genuine.

The moment hung between them, warm and full of possibility, until Irene’s phone buzzed, breaking the spell. She glanced at the screen, her brow furrowing slightly. “That’s my manager,” she said, standing and gathering her things. “He’s here to pick me up.”

Y/N rose to her feet, following her to the door. The apartment felt quieter now, the air charged with the weight of everything unsaid. Irene slipped on her coat, her movements graceful but unhurried.

Just as Irene reached for the door handle, she paused and turned back. Her movements were deliberate, but her expression carried a hint of shyness that made Y/N’s heart skip. Leaning in, Irene pressed a soft kiss to Y/N’s cheek, the touch warm and fleeting but full of quiet meaning.

“Thank you for tonight,” Irene repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, her breath brushing against Y/N’s skin.

Before Y/N could respond, Irene stepped out into the hallway, the faint scent of her perfume lingering in the air. The sound of her heels echoed softly against the floor, fading as she disappeared down the corridor.

Y/N stood frozen for a moment, her hand instinctively brushing the spot where Irene’s lips had touched her cheek. A slow, almost disbelieving smile spread across her face as the warmth of the moment settled into her chest.

The door clicked shut, leaving the apartment in silence, but the energy Irene left behind still lingered—an unspoken promise of something more.

Y/N leaned back against the door, staring at the spot where Irene had been moments ago. “Well,” she murmured to herself, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “That went better than expected.”

Her thoughts quickly shifted to what came next. Pulling her phone from her pocket, she opened their text thread, her fingers hovering over the screen as she considered her options. After a few moments of deliberation, she typed out a message:

How does Friday evening sound? There’s this little café I think you’ll love—quiet, cozy, and very private. I’ll text you the address.

Irene’s reply came quickly, the soft chime breaking the stillness of the apartment.

Friday works. Looking forward to it.

Y/N grinned, her excitement bubbling over as she began planning. She called ahead to the café, confirming a secluded table by the window with the best view of the fairy-lit trees outside. She wanted everything to be perfect—relaxed, intimate, and free from the chaos Irene was so used to.

When Friday arrived, Y/N adjusted her collar nervously as she waited in front of the small café tucked into a quiet corner of Seoul. The warm, golden glow of the lights spilling onto the cobblestone street reflected the cozy atmosphere she had been aiming for—a space that was private yet inviting.

The cool night air carried a faint hint of roasting coffee and pine, mingling with the sound of distant chatter from passersby. Y/N glanced at her watch, her fingers fidgeting slightly before she tucked them into her jacket pockets.

Then she saw her.

Irene approached, wrapped in a sleek black coat with a scarf draped elegantly around her neck. The soft light of the café caught the subtle shine of her hair, and her delicate features seemed even more radiant in the glow of the surrounding fairy lights.

Y/N’s breath caught as Irene gave a small, almost shy smile. She quickly stepped forward, holding the door open for her.

“Hi,” Irene said, her voice warm but quiet, as if the moment were something fragile.

“Hi,” Y/N replied, her grin widening as she gestured for Irene to step inside.

They were greeted by the rich, comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with faint hints of vanilla and cinnamon. The soft strumming of an acoustic guitar played in the background, the music low and soothing, blending perfectly with the quiet chatter of other patrons. A warm glow from the pendant lights above bathed the space in a golden hue, creating an intimate atmosphere that felt removed from the busy world outside.

The café staff greeted them with a discreet nod and led them to their reserved table, a cozy nook near the window. Strings of fairy lights framed the glass, and outside, the trees sparkled faintly under their glow. Irene followed closely behind Y/N, her scarf still loosely draped around her neck, her gaze sweeping the room with a mix of curiosity and appreciation.

“This is… perfect,” Irene said softly as she slipped off her scarf and set it on the chair beside her. Her brown eyes flicked to Y/N, warmth evident in her expression. “Thank you for finding a place like this.”

“I wanted you to feel comfortable,” Y/N replied, her voice steady despite the faint pounding of her heart. “Somewhere away from prying eyes, where you could just… be.”

A small, genuine smile tugged at Irene’s lips, and for a moment, she said nothing, just meeting Y/N’s gaze with quiet gratitude.

They sat across from each other, the table small enough that the tips of their fingers occasionally brushed as they reached for their cups. Irene stirred her tea with slow, deliberate motions, the clinking of the spoon against porcelain filling the brief silences, while Y/N wrapped her hands around her mug of hot chocolate, savoring the warmth that seeped into her palms.

The initial moments were tentative, their conversation weaving through small, safe topics—the crisp winter weather, favorite dishes, and the café’s charming décor. They exchanged polite laughs and observations, but the air between them felt heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Then, Y/N decided to take a leap.

“Can I ask you something, Joohyun?” she said, her voice soft but purposeful.

Irene’s fingers paused mid-stir, her eyes lifting to meet Y/N’s. There was curiosity in her gaze, mixed with a flicker of vulnerability. “Of course.”

Y/N hesitated for a brief moment, then asked, “What’s the one thing you’d do if you could have a day completely free from all expectations—no schedules, no cameras, no people recognizing you?”

Irene blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. Her lips parted slightly as she processed it, and then, after a moment, a wistful smile appeared. “I’d spend the entire day in bed,” she admitted, her voice quieter now, as though she were confessing a secret. “Reading books, watching old movies, staying in pajamas. No makeup, no pressure. Just… peace.”

Y/N chuckled, her grin widening. “That does sound perfect. I think I’d join you.”

Irene’s smile deepened, and a soft laugh escaped her. “And you?” she asked, her tone shifting to one of genuine interest. “What would you do?”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, thinking for a moment. “I think I’d get in my car and just drive,” she said finally. “No destination in mind, just the open road. Maybe stop at random little places along the way—cafés like this, antique shops, small towns with hidden gems.”

Irene nodded thoughtfully, her expression serene. “That sounds freeing,” she said softly, her gaze distant as if imagining the scenario for herself.

Their conversation flowed more easily after that, moving from wistful dreams to stories of their lives. Y/N spoke of her decision to move to Seoul—the uncertainty, the thrill, and the comfort she eventually found in her close-knit group of friends. Irene, in turn, shared snippets of her childhood in Daegu, painting a picture of simpler days filled with family traditions and quiet moments that felt a lifetime away now.

As the evening progressed, their laughter became more frequent, their smiles more natural. They leaned closer without realizing it, their words spilling out in easy rhythm, their connection deepening with every passing moment.

When they finally stepped out of the café, the cold night air greeted them, crisp and bracing. Irene adjusted her scarf, wrapping it more tightly around her neck, but a sudden gust of wind made her shiver slightly despite the effort.

Noticing this, Y/N reached into her bag, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a soft, knitted beanie.

“Here,” Y/N said, holding it out with a grin. “You look like you could use this.”

Irene blinked, surprise flashing in her eyes. “You carry a spare beanie with you?”

“Not exactly,” Y/N admitted, chuckling. “It’s mine, but I’m not letting you freeze.”

For a moment, Irene hesitated, her gaze flicking between Y/N’s face and the beanie in her outstretched hand. Then, with a small smile, she took it, carefully pulling it over her head. The fit was a little loose, the fabric dipping just slightly over her ears, and the sight made Y/N grin even wider.

“What?” Irene asked, her cheeks flushed—not entirely from the cold.

“Nothing,” Y/N said, her grin softening. “It suits you.”

Irene rolled her eyes, but the fondness in her smile was unmistakable. She tugged the beanie snugly over her ears, her voice light. “You’re impossible.”

“Maybe,” Y/N replied with a playful shrug, “but I’m warm, and now you are too.”

As they walked down the quiet, cobblestone street, their laughter mingled with the faint sound of the café door closing behind them. The lights from the trees above cast soft patterns on the pavement, and the crisp air felt less biting, wrapped as they were in the shared warmth of a night neither would soon forget.

When they parted ways at the end of the street, Irene offered a soft smile that lingered in Y/N’s mind long after she’d disappeared into the waiting car. The faint scent of Irene’s perfume and the warmth of her laughter stayed with Y/N, wrapping around her like a comforting echo.

The next day, Y/N hesitated before typing her first text. She didn’t want to seem overeager, but the thought of letting too much time pass felt unbearable.

Hi, Joohyun. I hope you’re having a good day. Let me know if you’re free this week—You still owe me another warm drink for stealing my beanie.

The response came faster than Y/N expected, her phone lighting up with Irene’s message.

I think I’ve already paid you back with good company. But I’d love to meet again.

Y/N grinned, her chest warming as she typed her reply.

Good company is a rare find these days. I think we’re both lucky.

A moment later, Irene replied:

You give yourself too much credit.

Y/N laughed softly, shaking her head as she typed back.

And you don’t give yourself enough. I’ll take that as a yes for another tea, though.

The playful exchange set the tone for the steady rhythm of their conversations, growing warmer and more natural with every message.

The banter flowed easily, their texts a back-and-forth rhythm that quickly became a regular part of their days. At first, Irene’s messages were careful and composed, always polite, but as the days turned into weeks, something shifted. Her responses grew warmer, tinged with playfulness and the occasional flirtation that caught Y/N off guard.

One evening, Y/N sent a picture of her hastily assembled dinner: slightly burnt toast next to scrambled eggs that looked more scrambled than eggs.

Chef of the year, don’t you think? she texted, adding a laughing emoji to soften the self-deprecating humor.

The reply came after a brief pause, Irene’s tone light but biting:

Do you usually subject your kitchen to such tragedies?

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she quickly typed her response.

Only when I’m hungry. Care to save me with your culinary expertise?

Her grin widened as she hit send, but when the next message took longer to arrive, Y/N wondered briefly if she’d overstepped. The silence stretched for a few minutes, her nerves creeping in. Then her phone buzzed again, and Irene’s reply made her laugh aloud.

Only if you promise to leave the cooking to me next time.

Deal, Y/N shot back. But that means you’ll have to let me take you out again.

Irene’s response came quickly this time, and Y/N could almost picture the faint curve of her smile as she read:

That’s the idea.

Their conversations became a steady rhythm, filling the spaces between their busy lives. Despite her normally reserved nature, Irene found herself reaching for her phone more often, eager to hear from Y/N. Late-night texts turned into moments of shared vulnerability, while daytime banter revealed Irene’s unexpected playful streak.

One afternoon, Y/N sent a picture of her desk, papers strewn everywhere, and a nearly empty coffee mug perched precariously on the edge.

This is my current “escape.” Beautiful, isn’t it?

Irene’s reply came quickly, her tone as sharp as ever:

Beautiful might not be the word I’d use. Chaotic, maybe.

Y/N grinned, typing back with mock offense:

You wound me, Joohyun. Truly.

Just being honest, Irene replied. Then, after a beat, she added: But for what it’s worth, you work hard, and it shows.

The compliment made Y/N pause, warmth spreading through her chest. She reread Irene’s words a few times before replying:

Thank you. That means a lot coming from you.

In return, Irene occasionally shared glimpses of her own life. One afternoon, she sent a picture of a steaming cup of tea resting on a windowsill, the cityscape visible in the distance, painted gold by the late afternoon sun.

My little escape between schedules, she wrote.

Y/N stared at the serene image for a moment before replying:

Peaceful and elegant. Very you.

Irene’s reply came almost immediately, teasing but not unkind:

Are you saying I’m predictable?

Not at all, Y/N replied. Just that you have good taste.

The ease of their conversations deepened in the quiet hours, when the weight of their respective worlds felt lighter in the presence of the other.

One night, as the city outside Y/N’s window grew quiet, she sent a message:

How do you handle it? The pressure, the expectations?

This time, Irene’s response didn’t come right away. Y/N could imagine her deliberating, carefully choosing her words. When the reply finally arrived, it was more honest than she had anticipated:

Some days, I don’t think I do. I just… keep going.

There was a pause before another message came through:

You seem like you’d understand that. You make it look effortless.

Y/N’s reply was immediate, her honesty mirroring Irene’s:

I don’t. Not always. But talking to you helps.

Amid the seriousness, humor often found its way into their exchanges. One afternoon, Y/N sent a post-gym selfie: her hair was a sweaty mess, her cheeks flushed red, and her expression one of mock exhaustion.

Glamorous, right? she captioned.

Irene’s reply came almost instantly, her wit on full display:

Definitely. Very idol-like. Should I be worried about competition?

Only if you think I can pull off sparkly outfits as well as you can, Y/N shot back, laughing as she typed.

Moments like these became their quiet escapes, a space where they could share laughter, confessions, and dreams without fear of judgment. Late one night, Irene sent a single message that lingered in Y/N’s mind long after their conversation ended:

I think you make me braver than I usually am.

Y/N stared at the words, rereading them several times before finally typing her reply:

And you make me better than I usually am.

For a while, neither of them said anything more. But as Y/N lay in bed, staring at her phone, she knew that their connection had grown into something neither of them had quite expected—but neither of them could deny.

One evening Y/N stared at her phone, rereading the half-typed message for the third time. She wasn’t usually one to hesitate, but something about Irene made her pause. After a moment, she sighed, deleted the draft, and hit the call button instead.

The phone rang twice before Irene’s soft voice answered, “Hello, Y/N.”

“Hey, Joohyun,” Y/N said, trying to sound casual while her heart thumped in her chest. “How’s your day going?”

“Busy,” Irene admitted with a chuckle. “But your call is a nice surprise.”

Y/N felt her confidence returning at Irene’s warm tone. “I was thinking… if you’re not too busy this weekend, would you like to go out with me again? Somewhere quiet, just the two of us?”

There was a pause, just long enough for Y/N to start second-guessing herself. But then Irene’s voice came through, soft but sure. “I’d like that. Do you have something in mind?”

Y/N exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I do. It’s a surprise, though. I promise it’ll be worth it.”

“Then I’ll trust you,” Irene said, her smile evident in her voice.

The soft hues of twilight painted the horizon as Y/N finished setting up the picnic by the lake. She’d chosen a quiet park on the outskirts of the city, where the sound of rustling leaves and lapping water replaced the usual urban noise. A blanket was laid out with cushions for comfort, a small spread of food neatly arranged in wicker baskets, and warm, battery-powered candles flickered softly around the setup.

When Irene arrived, wearing a cream-colored coat and a delicate scarf, her eyes widened at the sight.

“You did all this?” Irene asked, her voice tinged with awe.

Y/N shrugged, though her cheeks flushed slightly. “I wanted it to feel special. I know how chaotic your life can get, and I thought… maybe we could both use a little peace.”

Irene’s lips curved into a soft smile. “You were right. This is perfect.”

They settled onto the blanket, and for a while, they ate and talked, their conversation punctuated by laughter. Y/N had packed sandwiches, fresh fruit, and even a small bottle of wine—though she brought sparkling water, knowing Irene didn’t drink much.

“I can’t believe you put all this together,” Irene said, taking a bite of a strawberry.

“Well, I can’t sing or dance like you,” Y/N teased, “but I’m pretty good at making picnics.”

Irene laughed, the sound light and melodic. “Don’t sell yourself short. I’m still thinking about your karaoke performance.”

“Oh no, you’re never letting me live that down, are you?” Y/N groaned, covering her face.

“Never,” Irene said with a playful smirk.

As the sun dipped lower, the conversation shifted to quieter topics. Irene talked about her favorite childhood memories, the joy of running through fields in Daegu without a care in the world. Y/N shared stories of road trips across Europe, painting a picture of freedom and adventure.

At one point, Irene leaned back on her hands, gazing at the lake as twilight deepened. “I don’t think I’ve ever been somewhere so quiet in the city. It’s… nice.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze fixed on Irene. “You deserve moments like this. A chance to just be Joohyun.”

Irene turned to her, her eyes warm. “And you make that feel possible. That’s rare.”

The words lingered between them, unspoken emotions carried in the stillness.

After a while, Y/N stood and extended a hand to Irene. “Come on.”

“What are we doing?” Irene asked, looking at her hand curiously.

“Trust me,” Y/N said with a grin.

Irene let herself be pulled up, and Y/N led her to the edge of the lake, where the water reflected the soft glow of the moonlight. Y/N took out her phone, scrolling to a playlist she’d prepared, and soft music filled the air.

“You made a playlist for this?” Irene asked, her tone incredulous but amused.

“Of course. What’s a picnic without music?” Y/N said, holding out her hand again. “Dance with me?”

Irene hesitated, glancing around. “Here? What if someone sees?”

“No one’s here,” Y/N reassured her. “And even if they were, we wouldn’t care. Just one dance.”

With a slight shake of her head and a soft smile, Irene stepped closer, letting Y/N take her hand. They swayed gently to the music, the world around them fading into the background.

“You’re terrible at this,” Irene teased as Y/N stepped on her foot.

“Hey, I said dance, not waltz,” Y/N shot back, laughing.

The laughter soon subsided, replaced by a comfortable silence as they continued to move together. When the song ended, Irene rested her head lightly on Y/N’s shoulder, her voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for tonight. I don’t think I’ve ever had a date like this.”

Y/N smiled, her hand tightening slightly around Irene’s. “Then I’ll just have to make sure the next one is even better.”

As the evening wrapped up, they lingered for a few moments longer, reluctant to let the magic of the night end. Eventually, Y/N stood, offering Irene her hand once more. They gathered their things under the glow of the moonlight, their movements unhurried, savoring the last moments of their time together.

The quiet hum of the car engine filled the space as Y/N drove Joohyun home, the soft playlist she had chosen earlier still playing in the background. The conversation had grown quieter, not out of awkwardness but from the comfortable silence that had settled between them after the picnic.

As the car turned onto Joohyun’s street, she glanced at Y/N, her expression warm. “Thank you for tonight. It was… really special.”

Y/N smiled, briefly taking her eyes off the road to meet Joohyun’s gaze. “You don’t have to thank me. Spending time with you makes it special for me, too.”

Joohyun looked down, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Only when I mean it,” Y/N replied softly.

When they reached Joohyun’s building, Y/N got out of the car, quickly moving to open the door for her. “I’ll walk you up,” Y/N offered, her voice casual but resolute.

Joohyun hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Alright.”

Inside, the building was quiet, the faint sound of the elevator humming as it carried them to her floor. They walked side by side down the hall, their footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting.

When they reached Joohyun’s door, she turned to face Y/N, her hands tucked into the pockets of her coat. “You really didn’t have to come all this way.”

“I wanted to,” Y/N said simply, her hands resting at her sides.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the air between them charged with unspoken words. Y/N’s gaze softened as she looked at Joohyun, noticing the way the dim hallway light caught the delicate curve of her face.

Joohyun broke the silence first, her voice quieter now. “You make things feel… easier. Even when I feel like they shouldn’t be.”

Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “That’s all I want—to make things a little easier for you.”

Joohyun’s eyes lingered on Y/N’s for a moment longer before she stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re dangerous, you know that?”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming. “How so?”

“Because you make me forget all the rules I usually set for myself,” Joohyun admitted, her gaze flickering down briefly before returning to Y/N’s.

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat as she stepped forward, closing the small distance between them. “Maybe breaking a few rules isn’t so bad.”

Joohyun’s lips parted, her breath hitching slightly, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head just enough, her eyes searching Y/N’s for permission.

Taking the silent invitation, Y/N leaned in, her movements slow and deliberate. When their lips met, the kiss was soft and tentative, like the first note of a song waiting to be composed. Joohyun’s hand came up to rest lightly on Y/N’s arm, and Y/N’s heart raced at the gentle touch.

When they pulled apart, Joohyun’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. “I should probably go inside,” she said, though her voice lacked conviction.

Y/N smiled, her voice low but steady. “Goodnight, Joohyun.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Joohyun replied, lingering for a moment before stepping through her door.

As the door clicked shut, Y/N stood there for a beat longer, her lips still tingling from the kiss. She turned and walked back down the hall, her heart lighter than it had been in years.

The memory of the night stayed with her, replaying in quiet moments when she least expected it—Joohyun’s smile, the way her hand fit perfectly in hers, the soft warmth of her voice. It made the time between their meetings feel both endless and worth the wait.

Now, standing in her small kitchen, Y/N couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief at how effortlessly Joohyun had become a part of her life.

The faint aroma of garlic and spices filled Y/N’s small but cozy kitchen as Irene stood at the counter, meticulously chopping vegetables. Across from her, Y/N stirred a pot of pasta sauce, stealing glances at Irene every chance she got. The soft hum of music played in the background—a playlist of quiet, jazzy instrumentals Y/N had curated to set the mood.

The kitchen itself was modest but inviting, with clean countertops, a row of neatly arranged spices, and a small potted plant perched by the window. A set of mismatched mugs sat drying on a rack, hinting at the cups of tea they’d shared earlier.

“You’re unusually quiet,” Irene teased, not looking up from her chopping. “Is everything okay?”

“Just admiring your knife skills,” Y/N said with a grin. “I’m pretty sure you’ve got a future as a chef if this idol thing doesn’t work out.”

Irene rolled her eyes but smiled. “You flatter me too much.”

“Not possible,” Y/N replied warmly.

They worked seamlessly together, moving around the small kitchen with practiced ease. When Y/N accidentally spilled a bit of sauce on the counter, Irene smirked and handed her a towel, shaking her head in mock disapproval.

When dinner was ready, they carried the plates to the small dining table near the window, where a single candle flickered softly. Outside, the city lights glittered faintly against the evening sky, the view framed by sheer curtains.

“This might be the best meal I’ve had in a while,” Irene said after taking a bite.

“You’re just being nice,” Y/N said, though her cheeks turned pink.

“No, really,” Irene insisted. “Cooking with you makes it even better.”

After dinner, they moved to the couch, bowls of ice cream in hand, as the opening credits of a romantic comedy played on the TV. Y/N settled into the corner of the couch, and Irene curled up beside her, their shoulders brushing. The scent of vanilla lingered faintly in the air, mixing with the sweetness of their dessert.

As the movie unfolded, Y/N found herself paying less attention to the screen and more to Irene—the way she laughed at the cheesy jokes, the slight crinkle in her nose when a scene was overly dramatic, and the way her presence made the room feel warmer.

When the credits rolled, Y/N turned the TV off and set her empty bowl on the coffee table. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts as Irene remained curled beside her.

“Joohyun?” Y/N began, her voice softer than usual.

Irene tilted her head to look at her, a small smile on her lips. “Hmm?”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the couch cushion. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how much I’ve enjoyed spending time with you these past two months.”

Irene straightened slightly, her expression growing curious but unreadable.

“You’re… incredible,” Y/N continued, her words earnest. “You’re kind, strong, funny in ways you don’t even realize, and just being around you makes my days better. I know we come from different worlds, and I know this might be complicated, but… I care about you. A lot.”

Y/N paused, her heart pounding. “I want to be more than just… someone you spend time with. I want to be someone you can count on, someone who makes you happy. I want us to be something real.”

As the warmth of the moment settled between them, Y/N’s heart raced, yet she found herself calmed by Irene’s steady presence. The silence wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was charged with the unspoken possibilities of what could come next.

Irene’s hand, still lightly holding Y/N’s, tightened slightly, grounding her thoughts. Her soft smile turned into something deeper, more sincere. “Y/N..” Irene began, her voice even softer than before, “you make me feel… free. Like I can be myself without the weight of everything else.”

Y/N’s lips quirked into a gentle smile. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to give you—a space to just be Joohyun, not Irene.”

Irene’s eyes glistened as she looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “You have this way of making me forget the things that usually scare me—how complicated everything can be.”

Y/N’s voice softened, her tone sincere. “That’s not a bad thing, is it? Forgetting, even for a little while?”

Irene met her gaze again, her lips curving into a faint smile. “No. It’s not bad at all. It’s just… different. But good different.”

Y/N tilted her head slightly, her own smile widening. “I can work with ‘good different.’”

They both laughed softly, the tension giving way to a mutual understanding. Irene’s gaze drifted to their hands, now entwined. “I never thought I’d meet someone like you. Someone who sees me for me and doesn’t flinch at the messy parts.”

Y/N’s voice turned resolute. “That’s because every part of you, Joohyun, is worth seeing. The messy parts, the strong parts, the quiet parts—they all make you who you are. And I want to be there for all of it.”

Moved, Irene leaned forward, resting her forehead gently against Y/N’s. Their breaths mingled in the intimate closeness. “You already are,” she murmured.

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as her eyes searched Irene’s, finding a quiet vulnerability that mirrored her own. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air charged with a palpable tension. Y/N raised her hand slowly, her fingers brushing against Irene’s cheek, tentative yet full of intent.

Irene’s eyes fluttered closed, and the smallest of smiles tugged at her lips as she tilted her head just slightly—a silent invitation. Y/N leaned in, their faces so close she could feel the warmth of Irene’s breath.

When their lips met, it was soft and unhurried, a delicate exploration that spoke more than words ever could. Irene’s hand came up to rest lightly on Y/N’s arm, her touch anchoring the moment in quiet certainty. The kiss deepened slightly, tender and warm, leaving them both breathless yet content.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads touched once more, a shared smile passing between them like a quiet promise.

The weight of Irene’s words settled warmly in Y/N’s chest, and she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. Tentatively, she raised her free hand, brushing a strand of hair from Irene’s face. “So, where do we go from here?”

Irene pulled back slightly to look into Y/N’s eyes, her expression both vulnerable and determined. “We take it one day at a time. No rush, no pressure. Just us.”

Y/N nodded, the sincerity in Irene’s words anchoring her. “I like the sound of that.”

Their moment was interrupted by the soft patter of rain against the windows, a cozy rhythm that matched the beating of their hearts. Y/N glanced toward the window and smiled. “Looks like the universe is in on our mood.”

Irene followed her gaze and chuckled. “Maybe it’s trying to tell us something.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked, her tone playful.

“That we should stay here, wrapped up in the warmth of this moment,” Irene replied, her voice tinged with amusement and affection.

Without thinking, Y/N reached for the throw blanket on the back of the couch and draped it over their laps. “Well, who am I to argue with the universe?”

As the rain picked up, the two settled back into the couch, Irene leaning her head on Y/N’s shoulder. They didn’t need to fill the silence with words—the quiet companionship between them said everything. For the first time in a long while, both felt at peace, the weight of their separate worlds momentarily forgotten.

Y/N looked down at Irene, whose eyes had fluttered closed. “Joohyun?”

“Hmm?” Irene replied without opening her eyes.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Y/N whispered. “I want us to be something real. Something lasting.”

Irene smiled faintly, her voice heavy with drowsiness but steady with conviction. “We already are.”

And as the rain continued its steady cadence, the two remained wrapped in each other’s presence, content with the quiet promise of what was to come.

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