#jiyeon fluff

[monkebearness]

More Than a Chance Encounter

Ji Suhyeon (tripleS JiYeon) x Male Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, romance

Word count: 9.2k

a/n: no smut yet, the first one really took a while to finish XD. however, a new one is in the works. for now, I hope you like this, if you are into this genre, at least.

The holiday season in one of the biggest malls in Seoul has made it crowded, as the year comes to a close in a couple of months. It still isn't as urgent and traditional like they do in America, but it's still a lot for Korea’s standards. Despite labels and posters of cheaper prices being stacked on a plethora of products, most of the supermarket is filled with the loud hum of the air conditioner as well as the movements of automaton couriers rushing in and out of the place. Nowadays, most people tend to visit to get some not so fresh nor natural, but nevertheless refreshing wind and spend time with their loved ones through various forms of recreation, entertainment, and the last reason: purchasing necessities for their families and friends. Necessities that are also known as gifts and groceries.

“How do I even use this..?” he whispers to himself, pressing all the buttons he can on the screen of the kiosk, only to end up in the same error popping up with an irritating sound that irritates even the folks behind him.

Self-checkouts at supermarkets are no longer the future because now, they’re the norm, here in the present. And yet a lot of customers are still stuck to the past, but reasonably so. Certain machines are not as simple as one would think, since these models are still new to the public, some of whom aren’t tech-savvy. This man in a suit just happens to fall into this case of generational dilemma. It’s a miracle he doesn’t even freak out yet.

“Ahjussi!” a voice roars from the end of the line. “We don’t have all night. Hurry up.”

But some would still take the advantage to shop in person during the holidays since, in most cases, it’s simply faster for people who visit after school or work. And as more and more users shop online, face-to-face customers take the advantage to buy in person just the same, especially when the couriers are taking a little longer than they want.

“Look, I’m trying to figure this thing out,” he mumbles as loud as he can. The longer he’s standing there with no solutions, the more he can feel the moisture accumulating on his scalp and realize how his fingers start to shiver under pressure. “I, um, I don’t think this thing is working. Does someone know how to fix this?”

“Maybe you broke it, old man,” another voice yells. “You should’ve just ordered online, so we didn’t have to deal with your mess!”

He can only sigh at the mockeries fired at him, but his patience remains high. Thankfully, karma finds its way to the heckler at the back, as the guard approaches and warns the pair to stop their impolite behavior. With the voice finally simmering down, the man in the suit is making some progress with the kiosk, but his ears catch footsteps getting louder and louder by the second. Clenching his fists in unease, he braces for whoever else may give him an earful.

“If I may, ahjussi…” He hears another voice from behind, now a calmer and feminine one. For some reason, his levels of anxiety begin to drop. “Let me help you with that.”

About six centimeters shorter than him, the woman’s ethereal appearance and attentive presence stuns him, prompting the man to step aside and let her deal with his problem. Despite being the very person behind him in the whole line, he didn't even notice her, since all his mind was focusing on was sorting out the kiosk by himself until he himself would have inevitably broken down due to the hecklers constantly mocking him. What surprises him is that she’s not in a uniform, yet she's able to fix his problem within half a minute, making him wonder whether or not she’s somehow from the staff.

“It’s not your fault,” she mumbles while he watches her from the side. “These kiosks are new. All you need to do is select the settings, change the method and—there! All your items are now totaled.”

He lets out a sigh of relief. “That’s really good to know. Kamsahamnida, Miss.”

She bows in response, while he hurries transferring his groceries into his shopping bag. Afterwards, the man would have gone on with his own business, but this encounter was different for him, aside from the fact that he rarely asked or received anyone’s help until the machine broke. His own machismo isn’t gonna let him be without trying to offer his assistance to the woman when she also finished her checkout a couple of minutes later. He sees her walk in his direction. “I’m sorry if I’m being a bother again, but let me help you with that too. If it’s fine with you.”

“Oh… Kamsahamnida.” Despite being taken aback by his action, she bows to him before leading the way throughout the market’s exit, where they are welcomed by the full moon in the sky. He carries three stuffed eco bags—two on the left and one on the right—while the woman carries a lighter one. She would often take a few glances at him out of concern, though he tries to reassure her with a few nods and a meager smile. A thought on her mind pushes her to help him by calling an auto-cart inside, but they’re already far from the store.

He can’t help but take a few peeks inside her bag as they stroll along the lane. While he isn’t able to see the items clearly, curiosity has already gotten the best of him. “You got a lot of stuff there. Do you mind if I ask what the occasion is? Christmas is still a couple of weeks away.”

“They’re for a family gathering.”

“Oh, mine too! I mean, it’s not unexpected, but I believe folks rarely buy stuff this early before Christmas. Let alone in person.”

“That’s true, but I’d rather not risk having delayed deliveries, considering the digital traffic… Or you know, missing some important ingredients for your recipes.”

“That’s a fair point,” he slowly nods.

“And you…” She takes a longer gaze at his eco bag. “You don’t have as much… Though it still looks heavy. Probably heavier than mine. I could’ve called an auto-cart back inside.”

“No, it’s fine,” he keeps insisting with a chuckle. “Gwenchana, seriously. I’ve carried heavier loads of paperwork than these in the past couple of years.”

“Arasseoyo, Mister Muscle,” the woman shoots back. Her raised eyebrow expresses intrigue and amusement, even if she can tell that he’s just trying to impress her to a degree, and realizing it makes her let out a chortle as they walk to the bus terminal.

He tries to continue the conversation, or at least keep babbling on from the top of his mind as they finally arrive at the lane. The only thing is—they just missed the last bus. The next ride won’t arrive for a while, unless they walk to another stop. But considering their distance to the nearest one—as well as their goods being quite a handful, neither of them seems to have the intention of doing just that.

A topic finally pops up in his mind, still driven by his curiosity about her minutes earlier. “Do you remember when those counters were still filled with cashiers? It must’ve been a kind of culture shock, finding out that we’re gonna have to check out our own groceries all by ourselves, unless we order online.” 

“Yeah, I remember it clearly,” she admits with a more or less indifferent tone. “It hasn't been that long since they finally got rid of the last batch…” But the more her words come out, he senses jadedness and discouragement in her voice, despite saying a lot. “It sucks to see them leave, but what are you gonna do?” She sighs, much to his worry, even if he doesn’t know what her problem is about. “The company’s too afraid of falling behind.”

His mind compels him to do something, hoping to cheer her or lighten up the mood. “You must’ve frequented here often to know all of that… You even know how to fix a kiosk and you’re also worried about the cashiers. Are you the manager of the store?”

She keeps herself from scoffing at his genuine amazement, and the fact that he’s still basically glazing her for her mere act of assistance. “Um, no. Not as a manager, but I used to work here… As a cashier.”

“Oh…” Fuck is the first word that darts through his brain, followed by shit and crap. Immediate guilt and regret strike through his heart, believing that he’s offended her with his words. Why didn’t I think of it before? “I didn’t mean to phrase it like that. Joesonghamnida.”

“Oh, no, no!” she waves her hands in a slight panic while he starts to bow to her. “Don’t apologize. I wasn’t offended, and I understand your point, but I still work here. It’s just not my shift tonight.”

“You’re still working here?” he wonders, confused yet just as curious about the wave of conflicting info he has learned. “But I thought the cashiers had been discharged in this supermarket since last year… That’s why I thought you’d be a manager or something.”

“Most of us were,” she nods. “But some of us were lucky enough to stay here and were reassigned to other roles. I’m just a kiosk specialist now—which is just a much fancier way of saying that I’m a technician.”

They both chuckle at her remark. “I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he considers. “I think you have more experience than some folks in corpo nowadays. I think it’s always a plus when you learn things hands-on.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” she slowly nods. “Though, I don’t believe I know more than those with desk jobs. But, I do think we have as much experience when working with people.”

“Now that you’ve brought it up, people aren’t as many here compared to back then. It’s always been more convenient to shop online in the past decade. I just really think it is a bummer that a lot of workers have to be fired because our means of living have become easier now, no thanks to those bots.”

“It’s true, but I wouldn’t entirely see everything as negative,” she retorts. “As much as you’re right, there’s new jobs out there. Ones where we can start using our brains and bodies more often. Act more like a human for once, you know?”

He sees her somber smile as they lock eyes. The smile doesn’t appear to be forced, but rather wistful. Perhaps he’s been complimenting her way too much, and it’s starting to come off as annoying. Maybe she’s going through something or has been through a lot, but that’s not in his right to know, since they’ve only met. “Based on that, I’m guessing you don’t love your job. I don’t know how else to say it, since I’m just a stranger… But I hope you hang in there.”

She tilts her head while her lips pout. “Love? Hate? Hmm… I haven’t used those words to describe my jobs. Not in a while... I just know how to adapt and get used to whatever job or gig I can get by. But now that you mentioned it, I do love gaining more and more experience, just as I hate dealing with cranky customers, like that heckler from earlier.”

“But, umm,” she adds, feeling a glimmer of sincerity with what he just said. “Thanks for saying that. As a ‘fellow stranger’ myself, I appreciate it. I hope you hang in there, too.”

Amidst the winter breeze, the woman brings out a scarf from her bag and wraps it around her neck, before rubbing her hands and blowing into it. Her gestures give him an idea, which may or may not work, but that’s the least of his worries. He still feels a sense of debt and gratitude for her after she helped him out earlier—no matter how trivial it is. Perhaps due to the fact that she just happens to be beautiful and polite, maybe there is something else that he’s feeling, but he brushes it off. He doesn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable more than the frightening possibility that she already is, being with him.

“Hey, uhh… I think the next bus won’t be here for a while,” he brings up. “Would you mind if we grab a cup of coffee or tea first? Anything you’d like, really. It’s my treat.”

The woman is touched by his sudden suggestion, yet her lingering sense of pride is making her feel hesitant to accept it. “Oh, that's too much. You don’t have to…”

“It’s the least I can do, since you helped me out at the counter,” he avows. “I would’ve given you my stamp coupon from a café I often visit, but I’ve used all of it. That is… If you’re not in the rush right now. I’m just suggesting, cause it’s getting colder out here and we might need a place to warm up for a bit.”

She laughs at his honest statement, not caring whether he’s joking or telling the truth. His somewhat awkward yet honest deliveries have fascinated her for a while now. If it was like any other stranger, she would’ve left or ticked them off moments ago, but she doesn't feel too tense around him. It's in a way, refreshing. Besides, it is up to her if she will regret meeting him at a later time or not. She’s a grown woman, and if he even does anything funny, there are people everywhere. For now, she doesn’t feel like she wants to ditch him. At least, he has yet to give her a fair reason. “It’s fine, but since you’re the one offering, perhaps a cup of hot chocolate will do for me, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course, that’s perfect!” a hint of enthusiasm arises in his voice, astonished that she even went along with his improvised suggestion. “Where would you like to order?”

“Hmm… I think you should lead the way,” a smile forms on the woman’s face while placing an index finger on her chin, insinuating her anticipation. “Seems to me like you’re the café connoisseur.”

The man chortles at her compliment. “I just know quality drinks, that's for sure.”

“Though I do prefer if we go somewhere closer to here,” she requests. “Just in case we catch the next bus arriving.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” he hums. “I think I know just the place.”

He raises the three eco bags off the pavement with his care, although the woman assists him into carrying them properly. However, before she can follow his footsteps, she feels a buzzing in her pocket. Her eyes widened at the message she just received seconds ago.

“Joesonghamnida!” she suddenly bows to him in a fast sequence, her voice mirroring her rushed pace. “I got an urgent thing to do back home. But if you want, we can have coffee some other time.”

He didn’t expect her to say those latter words, but it gives him a sense of hope. That she didn’t misunderstood his intentions. But in a fit of internal panic, rummages his hands inside his messenger bag to find something. Within seconds, he pulls out a wrinkled small card at the same time the woman hails the nearest taxi cab on sight.

“Of course, of course… It’s okay! Here's my call card,” he hands it over. “Just call me up through that number and, umm, we can meet up wherever you like.”

The woman keeps the card inside her eco bag just in time as the cab stops in front of the sidewalk. Opening the backseat door for her, the man helps her get two of her shopping bags in the middle of the seat. Once everything has been sorted out, she turns to look at him—both in relief and guilt—and bows to him once more. “Kamsahamnida, ahjussi... And, uhh, Merry Christmas.”

After she heads inside the vehicle, he sees the taxi leave the mall grounds, heading into a lane of the greater concrete sea and finding a spot among the fellow school of headlights.

“I don't know what just happened,” he whispers to himself, as he sees a pair of bigger headlights approaching from a distance. As it gets closer, more and more people, most of whom are also packed with tons of holiday goods in their arms, behind him start gathering in a line. “I just hope I didn't ruin her night.”

= = =

It's been a few weeks since New Year’s passed. He hasn’t received any calls from her, but he never realized it. After spending time with his family at home, he gets back to slaving away at work through meetings with the higher-ups and on-the-spot presentations. It is still the second week of January, yet everything becomes a blur when it comes to going through his routine. Things repeat in a cycle of the mundane. That has always been the case for him, until he receives a text from an unknown number during his lunch break.

[Unknown]: Annyeonghaseyo, ahjussi. Is this Young Sungwoo?

He shakes his head. His eyes can’t believe it, but the messages keep on being sent.

[Unknown]: I don’t know if you still remember me, but this is the lady from the supermarket.

I’m really sorry for leaving out of the sudden.

I had an emergency back at home.

Whenever you’re free, would you like to have that hot chocolate you promised?

Why is she still texting me? is the first instinctive question that pops up in his mind, followed by Is this a scam?, How is this possible?, The text sounds like her, but why is she apologizing when I’m the one who kept pestering her?, This cannot be happening, among many other thoughts clashing together as the unexpected situation leaves him in a state of analysis paralysis. That's until he takes another look at her last message. The hot chocolate. Of course! How can it not be her?

Assured by the texter's identity, he spends the remainder of his break, thinking of the words to text her back before getting back to his desk, perhaps with perhaps even more effort than most of his recent individual presentations at work since returning to work.

{{Annyeonghaseyo, Miss! Yes, this is Young Sungwoo.}}

{{Gwenchanayo. I don’t mind. I do hope everything’s okay.}}

{{I’m only available after work or during the weekend.}}

{{But I can adjust my schedule if you want to meet on those days.}}

[Unknown]: If you’re free today, then I was thinking later.

Since it’s Friday, you know?

Is that possible for you?

{{That’d be great.}}

{{Do you have a place in mind?}}

The café happens to be about eight minutes walk from his work, surprisingly enough. Entering inside, he sees her at one of the fifteen tables, almost half of which is seated with other customers. As their eyes meet, she waves at him.

“Annyeonghaseyo,” she greets him with a low respectful bow, which he reciprocates before taking the seat in front of her.

“I thought this would be a nice place for us to meet since I saw your company address.”

His mouth gapes, understanding her intention. “So that’s why this place is near our building! But, uhh… I hope I didn’t make you take a long ride.”

“It’s okay, ahjussi!” She raises her hand. “My place isn't that far from here either.”

“Please, don’t call me ahjussi,” he requests with a sheepish tone, raising his tone a little. “I’m not old. I just turned thirty.”

“Well, I’m not that old,” he adds in embarrassment. The man’s lowered voice makes her giggle. “Now that I’ve basically outed my age to almost everyone here, I guess I do count as an ahjussi… But I hope that doesn't make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” she reassures. “Our ages are not that far after all… I’m actually twenty-six.” She then leans into him a little closer, curious at his own misgivings. “And by the way, I don’t even think you look old. You look just about our age… Even if you are an ahjussi, I wouldn’t mind lessening formalities between us.”

“Thanks.” He takes a sip of his cup. “Those hecklers at the market must’ve gotten to me.”

“They do look like they’re on the younger side,” she considers. “Kids these days, huh?”

“That’s true… But I don’t know how exactly their parents raised them, so I don’t think it’s worth holding any grudges against them. A bad day can get anyone riled up.”

His answer intrigues her. It may sound like a little lecture, but his answers resonate with her. “That’s, umm... Quite mature of you. You ever dealt with people like those at work?”

“Pretty much,” he slowly nods with instinct. “It comes with the territory, but we’ve learned that there are much better ways of discipline than screaming at them. Our generation, I mean.”

“I agree.” Her head tilts while taking a glance at him with wonder. In her mind, there’s nothing witty or insightful left for her to add. But I don’t think that should excuse them for making a mistake. They gotta learn how to better themselves.” Except for one.

His face can’t help but form a smile. Now, he doesn’t have anything to add. “Well said.”

Despite them simply being strangers who have met up for drinks, this moment feels nice and calming for them, yet something is still missing. He slowly turns to her with caution. “I–uhh–I haven’t caught your name before.”

“Oh, right,” she mumbles, her eyes growing at his realization. “I told you my age, but not my name, haha. It’s Suhyeon. And by your call card, I can assume you’re Sungwoo?” Her eyes squint with suspicion in an attempt to tease him. “Unless that was your coworker’s name, which you used just to call me or something.”

He chortles at her remark, raising his hands for a second. “That is my name. No tricks.” Sungwoo keeps his right hand raised, signaling an attempt to shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Suhyeon.”

“I know, I’m just messing,” she shoots back, right before reciprocating his handshake with a welcoming smile. “And it’s nice meeting you, too, Young Sungwoo-ssi.”

Hoping to initiate their conversation this time, she tries to recall a few details from him since their previous encounter, as well as his card. “Wait, so you are from corpo right? I can’t believe you said I have more experience than the likes of you.”

He lets out a snicker. The fact that she even remembers that surprises him. “My opinion still stands. Some of my colleagues could be freeloaders whenever there’s team projects.”

She sighs just imagining some of his hardships. “That must be a chore to deal with.”

“It is at times, but like what you said, you just get used to it.” The silence is now his cue; it’s his turn to try and get to know a little more about his companion. “So, Suhyeon-ssi, what else do you do for a living, aside from being a kiosk specialist at the mall… since I remember you saying that you’re working from job to job.”

“Well, that was the case.” Her smile grows wider. “I stopped working at the mall about two weeks ago when a friend of mine recommended me to a new and more stable one.”

He puts down his now half empty cup on the table. “What’s your main job these days?”

“Starting from next week, I’m gonna be a company driver,” she informs him. “My friend works there, but I got hired through their interview and test drives.”

“I gotta say, you're quite amazing, Suhyeon-ssi. What can you not do?”

“You’ve been flattering me non-stop, Sungwoo-ssi,” she shakes her head with a snicker, before her hand instinctively reaches to the napkin box and wipes some of the stain off his sleeve. “You didn’t even notice that stain.” She looks up to see his lips, also stained with coffee foam. “And your lips—”

“Oh,” she stops just as the napkin touches his lips, realizing that her impulse has astounded him. “Joesonghaeyo.”

“No, it’s okay,” he tells her. “But I can handle it from here.” He takes the napkin from her hand, igniting a spark from her. “Thank you for noticing this. You got sharp eyes.”

“Must be a force of habit,” she quips, while avoiding eye contact with him. Her mind reflects on her unexpected, ceremonious gesture.

From that moment forward, the two would keep meeting on weekends for coffee and hot chocolate, finding the most mundane yet meaningful things to talk about inside the café. It doesn’t always happen, but when they both agree to meet up, they make the most of it. And whenever none are available, they start using their phones longer, whether through usual texts or calls, almost every weekend night. Through their sleepless hours, they get to know each other, exchanging fun facts about themselves & sharing jokes and memes. Even finding out about their favorite or least favorite things is enough to prolong their conversations from twelve midnight until two in the morning.

{{Sungwoo: Never was a fan of avocados.}} {{But I may consider trying out this recipe.}}

[Suhyeon]: Yah! Don’t just consider (╥﹏╥) I promise, you won’t regret it!

{{Sungwoo: Fine, I will try it out.}} {{Your ingredients on the hot pot were amazing, after all.}} {{My colleagues and I ended up gobbling them all down within an hour.}}

[Suhyeon]: You’re welcome! ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

{{Sungwoo: And how about my recommendations? I gave you about a hundred dessert suggestions last time. I’m sure you would’ve tried some of them by now.}}

[Suhyeon]: Hmm… I’ll think about it. It was too many for me to remember a single one.

{{Sungwoo: (—_—)}} {{Not one dessert caught your attention?}} {{You didn’t even stop me when I was rambling.}}

[Suhyeon]: Of course, I’m kidding! I did try that coffee toffee ice cream with my buddies. For a store-bought dessert, it's top-tier, that’s for sure. Cheap one too. You really love anything coffee-related, don’t you?

{{Sungwoo: Well, it got me through college and now.}} {{What got you through those times?}}

Sometimes, it takes a longer time for her to reply. He would think she’s introspective about something that’s trivial and mundane, or that he said something insensitive or offensive to her. Maybe he shouldn’t have brought questions like those up, but she always has an answer. Even if they sometimes come off as dismissive or evasive, Suhyeon’s insight resonates with him, to a past that even he rarely calls back to.

[Suhyeon]: Oh, you know… My friends and family. I’m sorry if that sounded cliche, but you get my point, right? Getting through college wasn’t easy for me. For pretty much anyone else, really.

{{Sungwoo: No need to apologize, Suhyeon-ssi.}} {{You got a point there.}}

[Suhyeon]: But that’s way back in the past. I’m quite content with what I got now. For the most part.

{{Sungwoo: I couldn’t agree more.}}

However, both of them are well aware that both or either of these pale in comparison to their meetings in person. Nothing beats the real thing, as a lot would say. Aside from coffee and chocolate, they would start ordering other drinks for once, sometimes even snacks they can munch on after work while they rant or share their thoughts. They found their own little ecosystem within the café’s area. Most talks would last for thirty to forty minutes, sometimes an hour—if not a few minutes longer, if they can’t help it.

Though, it never usually lasts more than that. Suhyeon whines that her parents have a less strict curfew for her even in her mid-twenties, which raises his eyebrow—though he never bothered to ask for any elaboration. She’d do the same thing for him, though there seems to be no problem with him answering her questions like he’s an open book.

“How about you then?” Because of Sungwoo’s amiable views and easy-going demeanor, Suhyeon eventually returns his curiosity by asking him about his occupation more than the call card he gave her about last December. “You must’ve been a marketing manager at your company at this point. You’ve read a lot of trends from the palm of your hand.”

“That’s flattering… But I am not there yet,” he confesses, wearing a simper on his face. “I don’t think I’ll even get there in a while. While being a no-name marketing specialist has its ups, you gotta deal with the rest of your team or even suck up to the older higher ups just to convince them that your idea is worth pushing through. I even don’t have any other time or the privilege to spend on outside work, at least besides these hours.”

“Hmm… You’re not alone. My friends are way out of my league… One’s a gourmet chef. The other’s banker. The other two even got promoted to higher positions just recently!” she lets out a deep sigh. “Until now, I still question why they are still hanging out with me…. Why they’re even making time for me.”

He doesn’t know how else to feel but amazement. “They must be great friends. Just considering how highly you speak of them.”

“Oh, they are!” she exclaims with enthusiasm, only for it to dip down within seconds. “It’s just… Ugh. I don’t wanna admit it, but I feel like I’m just being a burden to them whenever I meet up with them outside.” She places each of her cheeks on her palms, slowly rubbing them up and down as she groans with lower spirits.

“Don’t think of it that way,” he insists. “You still have a lot ahead of you, and plus, you’re not alone. There is nothing burdensome about having close friends… They rely on you as much as you rely on them. Clearly, you all care for each other.”

His words slowly warms Suhyeon’s heart. “Seems like you have good friends yourself.”

“Had,” he retorts. “Most of my friends are just being slaves to our work like myself. Even some of them are staying at home, raising their children, like almost twenty-four seven.”

Her glassy eyes are filled with sympathy and consolation, making her turn her head away from him for a moment as she puffs. Sungwoo senses her vulnerable moment.

“Everyone has their reasons or excuses why they’re busy, I get that... Life just happens.”

What he said casts a gloom over her in the form of less pleasant memories resurfacing.

“Sungwoo-ssi,” she mutters, keeping her own voice from trembling. “I–uhh…”

“What is it, Suhyeon?”

“Nothing,” she clears her throat. “It’s just… What you said was really something. I hope your friends got to do whatever they wanted back then. Not everyone gets to reach their dreams the way they expected, you know?”

“That’s true, but even if that seems to be the case, life doesn't stop after your twenties. I mean, it shouldn’t!” he asserts as a hopeful smile forms on his face. “And that is coming from someone who just left that chapter.”

She turns to him, reading his face. “Sounds like you've had regrets in your twenties.”

“Well, I can't deny that…” He chuckles at her deduction, not out of mockery, but the fact she has read his expression too well. “But then again, don't we all have those at some point?”

The woman gulps at his rhetorical question, but her once facade of somber eyes flare up. Her left hand slowly squeezes her empty coffee cup until the rest of her fingers meet her thumb around it. Keeping his hands clasped under the table, Sungwoo’s peripherals can sense her pent-up emotions slowly breaking out through her actions, although he does not say anything about it. Despite his concern, he knows that she doesn’t have to open up if she’s not ready. Yet for Suhyeon, taking in his honest words cools her down—in a fashion that’s familiar to her. “Butterflies” would be a cliche of a word to describe it. She remembers all too well how she has used that word about someone else before, and how it ended up to where she is now. The good, the bad, and the ugly of it all.

“I’m sure you'll get to reach what dreams you want to do,” he looks at her with solace. “Even if you don't realize what they are just yet. I hope you don’t give up on it.”

She stares into the blank space, considering his words, even though most of her mind has always been discouraging her from imagining anything. Pipe dreams won't get us anywhere, she reminds herself. And why are you even here? This is the last place you should be. But turning to him once again, Suhyeon senses the last thing she’d expected to happen in a long time. Her heart slowly beating faster. You should stop meeting him. Looking down on the floor, the woman just realizes the moisture building up in her eyes.

As tears begin to pour down her face, Suhyeon looks at Sungwoo once again, seeing his hand holding a piece of napkin in front of her. While sniffling, she looks up to his face. He doesn’t say or ask anything, except for the words, “Are you alright?”

“I... uhh... I don't know... But thank you,” she mumbles. Taking the white cloth from his hand, she begins to feel a familiar rhythm within her. One that’s growing louder than the lo-fi music that’s playing on the speakers.

But amidst their moment of bliss, they watch a child entering the café door—standing with daze and confusion while everyone else also looks at her with curiosity, adoration, or concern. Sungwoo expects the nearby young cashier or anyone else to approach and calm her down, yet instead, a collected Suhyeon walks to the girl first with an amiable and sympathetic approach. He follows her, astonished at her initiative and attention, though his worry still lingers for her due to her own moment of vulnerability earlier.

“Hey, little girl,” she kneels on her level. “Are you alright? Why are you here alone?”

“I…” The girl’s voice cracks as she starts to break down in tears. “I don’t know where my eomma and appa are!”

“It’s okay, don’t cry,” she holds her closer, comforting the sobbing child with a slow pat and caress to her back. “Don’t worry, we’ll find her, arachi? What’s your name?”

“Ha…Eun,” she sniffles. “My name… Is Haeun… What… Should I… call you, eomonim?”

Suhyeon uses the napkin to wipe off her tears. “My name is Suhyeon,” she turns to him with a gaze of trust. “And this ahjussi’s name is Sungwoo. You’re gonna be staying with us for a while. We can get you anything you want while we look for your parents.”

Hearing it from her again, he oddly doesn’t mind the term this time. Maybe it’s just the context it’s used that bothered him before, but as it left her mouth, it sounds—normal. It sounds complimentary. “Hello, Haeun-ah,” he greets her. “Do you have anything we can use to help you find your parents? Do you memorize their phone numbers?”

“I don’t—*hic*—know, ahju—*hic*—ssi…” Haeun tries telling him through her hiccups.

Suhyeon notices the lanyard on Haeun’s neck, finding the girl’s ID. “Haeun-ah… Can I take a look at this for a second?”

The girl nods, allowing Suhyeon to inspect the back of the ID. Her guess proves her right. “It has a phone number,” she informs Sungwoo and everyone else in the café, filling up the once disquiet and tense café with optimism. “We can call your parents, Haeun-ah!”

Almost twenty minutes later, a couple storms inside the café with faces of fright and disquietude. “Haeun-ah!” they cry to her. Their unease dwindles down at the second they find their daughter sitting on the table beside Suhyeon and in front of Sungwoo, taking a sip of her own smaller cup of hot chocolate.

“Eomma, appa!” Haeun rejoices, running to them in the middle of the café as her parents wrap her in a warm embrace, prompting cheers from the staff and some customers. Sungwoo can only smile at their precious moment, though he sees Suhyeon letting out a sigh in relief—droplets of sweat start to drip out of her scalp. Yet it also fascinates him that her smile grows much wider.

“Kamsahamnida, Miss!” Haeun’s parents bow to them in a rapid succession, bowing as low as their heads can reach. “Kamsahamnida, Sir! I don’t know how we can repay you. Thank you so much for looking out for our daughter.”

“Gwenchanayo,” she reassures them, holding each of their arms in hopes that they stop bowing to them—which they eventually do. “Just keep looking out after your daughter.”

Another several minutes pass. The sun had already set and rush hour had just begun. Suhyeon and Sungwoo have exited the café, taking a stroll to the nearby bus stop. With no words leaving any of their mouths, they’re only hearing the horns of whining drivers along with their own footsteps. She’s quieter around him, ever since he saw her in tears. It’s the first time she hasn’t spoken to him on their way home.

“You know how to handle that pretty well,” he praises her. “Have you ever considered being a nursery or kindergarten teacher?”

Her eyes widen, realizing something that only she knows. “I have to go,” she tells him with a fast and weak pace, contrasting her enthusiasm earlier. “I’m really sorry about this, Sungwoo.”

“Oh… It’s fine!” He wants to ask why, but he stops himself. He doesn’t have the right. Besides, it’s not the first time she’s told and left out of the sudden, he nudges himself. Even if she doesn’t tell the reason... Even if she won’t tell him the reason the moment they text tonight, like nothing strange ever happened. “Take care… Suhyeon-ssi.”

= = =

Three weeks have passed. Things start to drift apart. Suhyeon stopped texting first after the first week, but Sungwoo didn’t stop. Both people have had sleepless nights, but they never meet. Not even text as often as they did. Due to the gradual fall in their digital and personal interaction, Sungwoo eventually stops taking initiative. As their respective lives go on, he does his best not to succumb to the temptation of texting her over and over, to the point she becomes uncomfortable like he’s often feared since they met.

Of course, it would be far from the last time he receives a text from her.

[Suhyeon]: Hey, Sungwoo-ssi. Can we meet?

No coffee or chocolate. No avocados or desserts. Just each other’s chilling presence and their own breaths warming up this winter afternoon. He notices her new look. It’s not a uniform, but it’s a little more formal than the previous attires he saw her in.

He simply wants to tell her that she’s beautiful, yet his more soured and stubborn self wants to ask her why it took her this long, even though he knows that her personal life has never been his business, nor should it be.

“It’s been a while,” he breaks the awkward silence with a sigh. “Is everything alright?”

“Things have…” Her eyes are darted on the ground, her hands clenching on her knees. “Gotten busier at work.”

He senses that something else is troubling her mind, but he doesn’t want to get ahead of himself. He’s nothing but a friend, perhaps a mere close acquaintance to her. Someone who she can confide her most trivial problems to, and only that. But despite this meek and unassertive thought, he believes that—deep down—that may just be for the better.

“I don’t think I’ll be meeting you in a while,” she continued before he could’ve answered.

“It’s okay,” he said without a tone of complaint. “I understand that. No pressure.”

Such a response struck a nerve in her or punched through her gut. As if that’s not the answer she had hoped for from the man. “What if I don’t see you longer than that?”

“Then…” He wants her to explain why she’s asking him such a question, but he tries to remain reasonable, no thanks to his self-doubt. “I’ll understand if you can’t meet up.”

He feels like himself in the past. Spineless. Dishonest. Numb. Helpless. Coward. Yet another part of him keeps fighting on, despising those traits, not for his own sake, but for her. Since they started meeting up and talking, Sungwoo has known a lot about her, yet there’s still so much he doesn’t know. The same goes for Suhyeon, but he thinks she cares little about that. There is an invisible barrier between them that has been keeping them from going further than this. Whatever this is.

And now, after a few months of making a connection with this wonderful woman, his mind braces for the worst case scenario, just as his heart foresees his fears. Is this it?

Their eyes meet, reading a few glimpses through each other’s souls. Broken. Deprived. Lonely. Yearning. She looks down on his face, his lips now appearing much closer. Her heartbeats do not deceive her, deafening her fear. No words follow from their mouths, only each other’s breaths becoming clearer and louder with each second. Giving in to the whispers of her temptation, Suhyeon gets up from her seat and inches towards him.

Frozen in the moment, their lips touch. Sungwoo melts into the kiss, closing her eyes with her. Seconds pass, warmth turns into a burning sensation. Sweetness turns to hunger, one that neither of them have felt in forever. As the man reciprocates her gesture, the irresistible tingle she’s feeling urges her tongue to slide into his—

“Mianhaeyo,” she takes a few steps back away from him, appalled by her own impulse while catching up her breath. “I… I shouldn't have done that—”

Sungwoo remains frozen for a second, but not his heart. He leans himself closer into her this time, embracing her as the beat of their hearts sync with the rhythm of their second kiss. With their eyes closed once again, Suhyeon doesn’t fight back. Instead, she slowly wraps her arms around his nape in order to pull him closer until their chests collide.

It would be the last time the pair would’ve met…

If it wasn’t for Sungwoo’s stubbornness. Even if it costs whatever they had, he wants to know how she's been doing ever since. Even if she made the move, he either can’t help but blame himself as the reason why she stops reaching out to him after that meetup.

{{Suhyeon-ssi.}}

{{I don’t know what happened then.}}

{{I'm really sorry for kissing you.}}

{{But I know something else is on your mind.}}

{{You can talk to me.}} {{Like you always have.}}

{{Please text back. Or call me.}}

{{Just tell me you’re okay.}} {{Or if you’re not.}}

{{If you really don’t want to meet again. I’ll understand.}}

{{But I’ll always be here.}}

= = =

Another week has passed, and Sungwoo goes on with his usual life—yet, the presence of Suhyeon still lingers on his mind. From the bar to the PC bang, he tries to do everything he can to get the woman off his thoughts. Even online dating—as some of his coworkers suggested to him lately… So he does, and after his twenty-third swipe, he hits it off with someone, much to his own surprise. “You must be Hyewon… Or is it Belle?” he corrects himself immediately. “Your profile has two names. I don’t know what to call you.”

She chuckles at his hesitant question. “Any will do… And you are Sungwoo-ssi, if I am not mistaken?”

Things are taking off for them in the next half an hour. He compliments her appearance. She laughs at his jokes, whether they’re forced or not. They talk about their opinions on certain topics. He fails to read her signals. It’s a start, he admits with little confidence.

But on that same Saturday night, he receives a phone call from an unknown number. He can just ignore the call, let the other party leave a message after the beep, maybe he can hang out with Belle a little longer, see how things go. Unfortunately for himself and his date, he can’t help but be Sungwoo. As someone who has spent his life through his job, every call for him has become an obligation.

He answers it with some caution. “This is Young Sungwoo speaking. Who is this?”

But that voice. Her voice. It's something that he can never forget. “It’s me, Ji Suhyeon. This is my company’s number… I’m sorry if I surprised you. I’m just finishing my shift for the night, and…”

She stops. And despite the past few times they’ve talked on the phone, he can now sense her hesitation from the other side. “You can say it. I won’t mind.”

“Well, I just thought of you,” she completes her words. “Plus, I owe you an apology. In ways more than one.”

He can hear his own heart, making that familiar rhythm. Whenever he was with her.

“It’s okay, Suhyeon,” he stammers, but immediately clears his throat. “How are you?”

“Could be worse, to be honest…” A deep breath from her fills the dead air for a few seconds before Sungwoo can hear her voice again. “Are you free… This weekend?”

There it is. It’s his chance. Maybe his last one.

“You know I am,” he tries to play it cool with her, yet he quickly realizes how awkward he sounded. “I mean, of course... Same place?”

He can hear Suhyeon let out a light chuckle for a moment. “Maybe not at the café,” she suggests. “But somewhere else. If that’s fine with you.”

It’s about the nth time they said those words to each other. But hearing it from her once again is a breath of fresh air. “Elsewhere would be nice, too.”

Returning to the bar, his eyes scan most of the place, only to find that his date is no longer around. He receives a message.

[Belle:] Sorry for dipping early, but I got a thing. We can still hang out another time if you want.

Strangely enough, he doesn’t feel a sense of disappointment. Sure, he’s bummed out he fumbled the date with the first woman he met online in years, but he’s not too bummed out about it because of her. Instead, he couldn't feel any luckier because of this call.

= = =

It’s the fourth of May. Instead of the usual café, they decided to meet at the park outside. They take a seat next to each other on one of the benches, albeit keeping a wide distance. He’s on the left corner, with her on the right. Amidst the silence of the background, they see each other in their springtime attire. Suhyeon is in a brighter dress and jeans, while Sungwoo is finally not wearing a suit for once; instead, he’s wearing a blue short sleeve. Whether or not today ends up being the last time they meet, both of them agree on one thing: it’s about time that they meet each other in the early morning for the first time.

“You look beautiful,” he scratches his head, finally listening to his heart instead of letting his own brain filter his thoughts until they sound more logical or interrupts himself with more filler words.

She looks down in embarrassment, hiding her reaction as she senses her cheeks slowly heating up. “Thank you,” she mumbles. “You look nice, too, Sungwoo-ssi.”

“Thanks… But can we talk about what happened last time—” he continues.

“I know,” Suhyeon interjects with a soft-spoken tone. She takes a deep breath, before looking up to face him. “But I have to tell you something first, if that’s okay.”

“Of course,” he straightens his sitting posture while their eyes level. “What is it?”

The woman gulps involuntarily. “There’s another job I haven't told you about… And it’s not that simple. It’s not that I don’t wanna meet you, Sungwoo, even if I'm busier... It’s just… I don’t know how to say this.”

“Take your time.” Sungwoo doesn’t know why she's suddenly talking about her job, yet he keeps listening, sensing her state of distress and hesitation. “Whatever that may be, and as long as you love it, I’m happy for you. I don’t think our… situation should get in the way of your…”

There it is again, she thinks. “Why shouldn’t it?”

“Because that’s your job,” he counters. “It’s your life… And besides, I can just adjust.”

“I don't think you can.” She can’t keep on lying and hiding like this. He has to know, even if it ruins things, ends things even. “Sungwoo-ssi. The thing is…”

“What is it? I’m sure it’s nothing bad—”

“I have a child, Sungwoo.”

She looks at him with a fortified expression, yet deep down, she feels the most nervous. Especially when his eyes widen after hearing those four words, her thoughts go all over the place, stricken with panic and despair. Not even air comes out from his mouth that moment, something that only intensifies Suhyeon’s unease as his silence lasts seconds.

“Did you just hear what I said?” she asks him up front, slightly raising her voice in an attempt to keep herself from crumbling from within. “I’m a single mother.”

“This job, this responsibility of mine isn’t easy,” she continues before he can make any response, clenching both her fists and finally pouring her heart out. “It never has been. Every year, you get into family gatherings. Not only do you help prepare them, but you buy gifts for your relatives, yet all you get from some of them are blames and lectures for what’s happened to you. And whenever you're with friends, you gotta put on a bolder face just to ask them to look out for the kid while you work your ass off in different jobs from morning ‘till afternoon—or whenever you're applying for one… But there's things I don't regret, at least with what I have now. And no matter how hard things get, I don’t regret keeping him. Raising him.”

At that moment, some things have become clearer to him. Their long and wholehearted talks about life and dreams. The unusual curfew and her leaving out of the sudden. Her encounter with the little girl. Her pent-up emotions finally cracking around him. Now, he realizes why she never told him more of her life, rooted out of the fear and distress that she will be rejected, lambasted, patronized, or looked down on, like everyone else in her life.

“And just like meeting you that night… It’s something that I don’t regret either,” she confesses. “Even if that was some silly chance encounter, it was one of the times I felt something new. So I called you that day to see where it goes, and here we are… But of course—a part of me still keeps telling me: Let it go. You’re a mother now. You don't deserve to have these feelings... You're just giving yourselves a hard time.”

Sungwoo looks at her face. His mind and heart tells her to hold her hand. Say anything. Do anything to comfort her, now that she’s told him the truth about the barrier that has been keeping them from going the distance for months.

Suhyeon’s heart starts to tighten with every beat, seeing his look of guilt and sorrow. It's not the first time she's seen it from someone. “If you don’t want to see me, after this… I'll understand, Sungwoo... I was the one who invited you into whatever-this-thing-is to begin with, didn’t I?”

“No,” he tells her without hesitation. “That doesn’t change what I think about you.”

“It should…” she mutters in defeat, shameful to even look him in the eye as she says it.

“What you said, it only proved what I already thought of you… You’re a wise, beautiful, hardworking, independent, and fearless woman,” he elaborates, allowing himself to be vulnerable with Suhyeon. “And for you to keep that part of your life for long—it must’ve been a pain. It’s something that I can’t imagine. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you sooner. About how you were really feeling. What you’re going through—”

“Don't,” she interjects with disdain, but not for him. It’s too late, Suhyeon thinks while her mouth remains shut. You’ve heard this before. Look at what happened to us. “I’m tired of people telling me that they're sorry. It's not your fault why I'm like this.”

“I know… I’m sorry because I wasn’t attentive enough. That I wasn’t courageous enough,” he adds. “But I am not sorry that it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

Her eyes widen, her mouth agape in shock. Staring through his soul, waves of emotions start to clash deep down in her heart—Awe. Doubt. Denial. Mistrust. Misunderstanding. Fear. Warmth. Comfort. Growth. Excitement. Hope. Joy. Acceptance—while a stream of conflicting thoughts flood her mind. This was bound to happen sooner or later. What’s the point of this? You never had a chance. He’s one of them. You’re a disgrace for ever being here. He'll just leave you. Go home with your son and your parents. There’s no point in hoping, Ji Suhyeon. “Sungwoo-ssi…”

“I like you, Suhyeon-ssi,” he finally affirms, with much stronger conviction in his voice. “I don’t know if it means anything to you, but that’s the truth… I don’t care what comes after this. But I just want you to know that there's no shame in what you are, and what you're going through… I'll always be here for you.”

Suhyeon’s inner thoughts and misgivings shut down. In turn, her heart starts to sing without shame, rejoicing and reaching ranges she hasn't felt in years, as it yearns for something more. His earnest gentleness. His soothing scent. His comforting touch. Unbeknownst to her, he feels just about the same.

She rushes to Sungwoo, laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arms around him. He places his right hand on her head, caressing it. That warm comfort that she’s been longing for, it’s within her grasp. Tears of jubilation begin to drip from her face down to his shirt, as she breathes easier. “Gomawoyo, Sungwoo.”

Gently pulling away from their embrace, she leans back to look at him closely with a warm and grateful smile that mirrors his, letting out a chuckle of relief. “And I like you, too.”

A smile quickly forms on Sungwoo’s face, prompting him to give her a peck on the lips. As she giggles, Suhyeon prolongs the act with a longer, sweeter kiss of acceptance. From this day forward, their months of week to week encounters and meetups at the café end, as a new chapter of their lives awaits. It is unknown as it is promising, exciting as it is frightening. But at least they have each other to face it head-on. Together.

= = =

a/n: hello again! if you've reached the end, then you must've read a good chunk of it. it's not my proudest work, even if it's only my second one, tho I liked writing it for the most part. still, I wanna publish it, 'cause I don't want it to stay in my drafts lol. once again, the aforementioned next fic from earlier is already in progress. anyhoo, thanks for the read. I hope you have a great day!

[senascoop]

GET WELL SOON , P.SH !

﹙ 🍁 ﹚ ぃ ──── I KNOW IT'S MY FAULT, BUT I WANNA MAKE IT BETTER!

PAIRING: racer ! sunghoon × orphan ! afab reader.

SYNOPSIS: You’ve always considered yourself a good person—kind, forgiving, and patient. But Sunghoon tested every bit of that. One reckless, drunken drive was all it took for him to flip your life upside down, leaving you temporarily confined to a wheelchair. The inconvenience was more than just physical; it was a wound to your pride and independence. Sunghoon, however, refused to walk away from his mistake. Guilt-ridden and determined to make amends, he became a constant presence in your life—covering your medical bills, offering you emotional support, and sticking around even when you wished he wouldn’t.

WORD COUNT: 19.2K

FEAT: WONYOUNG from IVE, JAY from ENHYPEN, HANNI from NEWJEANS, + some ocs

MENTIONS OF CRIME & ACCIDENT, OVERALL FLUFF & CRACK !

MORE LIKE THIS? || MASTERLIST?

TAGLIST: @chexnluv @moonpri @wensurr @jiyeons-closet @isa942572 @jkslvsnella @woniefull @aleeza444 @capri-cuntz @vi-ri @hotteokisms @flwwon @shhth @lialaiakalaiiaia (the ones in bold couldn't be tagged)

AS YOU LAY IN THE HOSPITAL BED, the sterile scent of antiseptic in the air, your gaze drifted to the bouquet of white roses on the table beside you. A scoff slipped from your lips before you could stop it, a bitter reminder of why you were even here.

This was all his fault. Park Sunghoon.

For a second, you tried to maintain your calm, the nice person part of you struggling to hold on, but that guy—he tested all of it.

“Throw them away, please?” you asked, your voice clipped as you turned to the nurse adjusting your IV.

Before she could respond, an infuriatingly familiar voice cut through the room, smooth yet utterly exasperating. “You don't like white?”

You didn’t even need to look to know it was him. The sudden rush of irritation heated your cheeks as you whipped your head towards the door. And there he was. Park Sunghoon. Strolling in casually, hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive designer coat, as if he hadn’t ruined your entire week.

“Yeah, I don’t,” you shot back, your glare burning through him. The forced smile on your face was saccharine, dripping with the very clear message that he was definitely not welcome.

He raised an eyebrow, unfazed. Of course, he had the audacity to smirk—like always. "Sadly," he drawled, clearly enjoying himself, “you gotta keep them.”

Without invitation, he sauntered over to the side of your bed, his presence filling the room, as if his wealth and arrogance alone could smother the oxygen. You watched him with narrowed eyes, arms crossed over your chest in defiance.

“Just leave me alone, you rich jerk,” you spat, unable to hold back the venom in your tone. Your fists clenched beneath the thin hospital sheets, a reminder that you couldn’t even storm out of here like you wanted to. You were stuck—and it was all because of him.

His face faltered for a split second, the cockiness slipping ever so slightly as your words hit him. But like clockwork, he masked it, that composed, arrogant look sliding back into place.

It should’ve been satisfying to see the momentary flash of guilt cross his features, but it wasn’t enough. Not when your life had been flipped upside down, not when you were confined to this bed because of his mistake.

BUT HOW DID ALL OF THIS HAPPEN?

Well…

FLASHBACK!

Your eyes were stinging from the tears, and you clumsily wiped them away with the back of your hand. You weren’t exactly drunk—maybe two shots deep after an agonizingly stressful day—but it was enough to make your head spin. Why did it all have to be so sad?

Sniffling, you stumbled down the empty street, your shoes scuffing the pavement as you sobbed quietly into the night. The darkness felt overwhelming, like it was swallowing you whole, and even though your tears blurred your vision, you knew where you were heading—or at least you thought you did.

It wasn’t until you heard the loud, abrupt honk of a motorbike that you even realized you were standing in the middle of the street. You barely had time to turn your head towards the blinding lights before—BAM!

The impact wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was enough. The bike, thankfully, had slowed down, but not nearly enough to stop it from hitting you. Pain shot through your leg as you collapsed onto the cold, hard ground, the breath knocked out of your lungs.

You groaned loudly, clutching your leg, wincing at the sharp sting that radiated through your body. Meanwhile, the rider, who had also fallen, was busy steadying himself, dusting off his helmet as if he wasn’t the reason your entire life had just flashed before your eyes.

“THE HELL?!” you screamed, your voice cracking as you tried to shift your weight but immediately regretted it. The sharp pain in your leg intensified, forcing you back down onto the concrete. You gritted your teeth, tears stinging your eyes once again as you glared up at him.

The guy finally looked your way, lifting his visor to reveal his face. "Ma’am, are you okay?" he asked, his voice eerily calm, as if he hadn’t just crashed his motorcycle into you. Like it was some minor inconvenience to him.

Your blood boiled. “Okay???" you spat out, your voice a mix of disbelief and fury. "I’m literally bleeding! Are you dumb?!”

The guy blinked, clearly taken aback by your outburst, but remained calm. Too calm. “Alright, alright, just calm down,” he muttered, crouching down next to you, but that only made you angrier.

"Calm down?” you snapped, clenching your fists as the pain and the frustration built up inside of you. “Say that when you’re the one lying here, bleeding out!"

He flinched at your words but didn’t reply. Instead, he reached into his pocket, fumbling for his phone to call an ambulance. Meanwhile, you were still seething, glancing down at your leg where the blood was now slowly trickling down your thigh, staining your jeans. The sight of it made you dizzy, your head swimming with pain and exhaustion.

You could barely keep your eyes open, but you still had enough energy to notice him—freaking fixing his bike. He had the nerve to set it upright on its stand, making sure it was okay before coming back to check on you.

"If you even think about making this a hit and run," you rasped, your voice hoarse from both pain and anger, “I’ll haunt your entire family line.”

The guy stopped, visibly gulping as he knelt down beside you once again, clearly panicking now. "No, no, that’s not—look, the ambulance is coming, okay? Just… try to stay with me.”

Your vision blurred, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the world began to tilt. The last thing you remembered before everything went black was him leaning over, actually cleaning the blood off your thigh with his sleeve, his face a mask of panic and guilt. You didn’t know what was worse—the excruciating pain or the fact that you now hated him with every fiber of your being. Park Sunghoon.

And just like that, you passed out, your hatred for him searing into the darkness of your mind as you slipped into unconsciousness.

AND WHAT EXACTLY HAPPENED AFTER THAT?

You may wonder, but well...

Turns out, the guy—Park Sunghoon—was not just any calm, overly collected motorcyclist who’d crashed into you that night. No, he was the son of a wealthy man, one of those who didn’t have to face consequences because money speaks louder than the truth. And apparently, money really does talk, especially when you’re up against a system rigged to work in favor of the rich.

Even though Sunghoon had confessed to being at fault—had told the police it was his mistake—the tests showed otherwise. Your blood test, which revealed traces of alcohol, was enough to tip the scales in his favor. You weren’t even drunk, for heaven's sake—two shots hardly counted—but that didn’t matter. The system had already labeled you as the reckless one. Your claims of innocence? Brushed off, like dust from his expensive jacket.

It was humiliating. The police barely questioned Sunghoon. His parents swooped in like hawks, ensuring their precious son wouldn’t be held accountable for such a trivial incident, and just like that, there was no investigation, no justice. Just a quick sweep under the rug, and you were left to fester in your anger, helpless against the machine that protected people like him.

Being an orphan only made things worse. You had no guardian, no family to back you up or fight for you. Your best friend, Wonyoung, was the only one who came to your side. She tried covering your hospital bills—she had offered, insisted even—but you couldn’t let her. She needed the money more than you did, and you weren’t about to burden her with your mess. But you couldn't deny her when she showed up every day with packed lunches, smuggling in home-cooked meals like they were contraband.

On one particular afternoon, you sat in the hospital bed, poking at the warm rice she had lovingly packed in a small bento box. Wonyoung sat across from you, her eyes burning with the same hatred you felt. She stabbed at her own food, her anger simmering with every bite.

“I still can’t believe him,” she muttered, barely able to contain her frustration. “How does he get to walk away from this like it’s nothing?”

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head as you swallowed a bite of food. “Because he’s rich. Rich guys don’t face consequences, apparently.”

She nodded, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I hate him. I hate him so much.”

You sighed, your gaze falling to your bandaged leg. It throbbed, a constant reminder of everything that had happened. “Join the club,” you muttered. “He hasn’t even tried to take responsibility. Not once.”

Wonyoung scoffed, glancing over at the sterile hospital room, the fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over everything. “How does he sleep at night? Like, seriously?”

You thought about that too. How did Park Sunghoon sleep at night? Probably on some ridiculously expensive mattress in his mansion, far away from the mess he’d left you in. You clenched your fists around the edge of your blanket, biting back the urge to cry. Not again. You were so tired of crying, of feeling powerless, of being at the mercy of someone else’s mistakes.

AND AS THE DAYS PASSED, the gnawing anxiety of being kicked out of the hospital clung to you like a dark cloud. Let's be honest—you had no money. The minute the hospital caught wind of that, you were sure they’d toss you out on the curb without a second thought. It wasn’t like you had any guardian to bail you out, no family waiting in the wings to cover the mounting costs. You were an orphan—alone, except for your best friend Wonyoung, who had already done more than she needed to.

Sitting up slightly in your bed, you glanced at the nurse as she came in to check your vitals. She seemed nice—too nice—and it was exactly that thread of hope you grasped at as you hesitantly asked, “So... when do I pay the hospital bill?”

You knew the question was pointless, knew the answer would sink like lead in your gut, but you had to ask. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle would happen.

The nurse adjusted the IV drip, giving you a small smile as she jotted something down on her clipboard. “Someone already paid for you.”

Your jaw didn’t drop—not even a little—because let’s be honest, you knew who had covered it. Sunghoon’s parents. Of course they did. Anything to wipe their son’s record clean, to make sure no trace of this incident marred the reputation of their precious heir. Rich people.

“Right.” You muttered, sinking back into the pillows, staring at the plain white ceiling. It was always the same. Pay, forget, move on. No justice, just convenient cover-ups.

The nurse, oblivious to the tension building inside you, walked out of the room. You sighed heavily, closing your eyes, hoping—praying—that it wasn’t Sunghoon or one of his parents waiting for you outside. But your luck? Yeah, it never worked in your favor.

“Enjoying your stay here?” His voice was as smooth as silk, and when you opened your eyes, there he was, Park Sunghoon, standing in the doorway with that charming smile of his. It was the kind of smile that could have melted hearts—not yours, though. Not now, not when he was the reason you were lying here, stuck in this bed, smelling nothing but disinfectant and medicine.

“Yeah, it’s great,” you bit out, rolling your eyes. “A dream vacation. Smell of medicine, broken bones, IV drips—just paradise.”

Sunghoon chuckled softly, like he wasn’t standing in front of you after nearly ruining your life. You could have thrown the flower pot sitting by your bed at him—would have if the nurse hadn’t spoken up at that exact moment.

“She has a fracture in her leg and some soft tissue damage, but with rehabilitation, she should recover in twelve to eighteen weeks,” the nurse said, looking at Sunghoon like he actually cared about your prognosis.

“Alright. I get it,” he muttered, nodding as if he was taking mental notes, and you wondered why. Why was he still here? Why did he even care? He had already done his job, hadn’t he? Paid the bills, covered the mess—so why was he still hanging around?

The nurse excused herself, flashing what you swore was a knowing smile before she left the room. “Okay, then, enjoy your time with your girlfriend,” she said as she slipped out the door.

Girlfriend?! You nearly choked on your own breath. Girlfriend?? Really?! Your eyes shot to Sunghoon, demanding an explanation as you sat up straighter, the hospital blanket clenched in your fists.

“Explain,” you hissed, glaring at him with all the hatred you could muster. Your leg ached with the movement, but you ignored it, your whole body brimming with frustration.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Well... my dad wouldn’t let me get involved after the accident. But I wanted to take responsibility, and the only way I could stay connected to this without the media getting involved was to pretend you were my girlfriend. That way, it looks like I’m just... you know, paying your bills because I care.”

“Because you care?” You scoffed, your voice dripping with venom. “As expected. Rich people like you don’t actually care—you just want to clean up the mess and move on. Get the media off your back. Don’t worry about me though, Sunghoon. Just stay away from me, because if you keep hanging around, I swear, I will go insane.”

You grabbed the flower pot with one hand, aiming it directly at his face. Your knuckles whitened from the grip, the tension boiling over.

“Whoa, whoa!” Sunghoon raised his hands defensively, stepping back with a sheepish smile that only infuriated you more. “Calm down. I’m going, I’m going.”

He slipped out of the room with a smile that seemed too nonchalant, like none of this was serious to him. He disappeared into the hallway, leaving you to stew in your anger.

You let out a long string of curses under your breath, tossing the flower pot back onto the bedside table with a huff. Your head fell back against the pillow, and you closed your eyes, groaning in frustration.

Why did this guy have to be so infuriating? Every time you thought about him, your blood boiled, and now you were stuck in this mess with him as the person supposedly “taking care” of you. What a joke.

You clutched the blanket tighter, trying to shake off the overwhelming mix of emotions—anger, frustration, and the suffocating feeling of helplessness.

THE NEXT DAY?

SUNGHOON WAS BACK AGAIN.

You groaned inwardly, watching him from the corner of your eye as he quietly settled into the chair beside your hospital bed. He didn't speak, just sat there, his eyes glued to you. What the hell was his deal? You were already too tired to deal with the fact that this guy, who had already caused enough trouble in your life, was now making himself a permanent fixture in your hospital room.

“Can you just go away?” you murmured, voice low and raspy, refusing to look at him directly. It was irritating enough that he was here—you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of eye contact.

He shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly as if he were genuinely invested in whatever non-existent conversation you were about to have. “I just... I just wanted to apologize,” he started, his tone softer than you expected. “Look, I never wanted this to happen. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, didn’t want you to get this fracture—”

“Don’t bother me with your false apologies,” you cut him off, your voice sharp as your eyes narrowed in on him. There was no way you were going to sit here and let him play the nice guy when he was the reason you were stuck in this bed. As far as you were concerned, his words were as hollow as his concern.

Sunghoon flinched at your dismissal, but his face quickly returned to that neutral, unreadable expression he always wore. Without missing a beat, he pulled out a small, elegant container from his side, opened it up, and began arranging a steaming bowl of ramen. The fragrant aroma hit your nose almost instantly—rich broth, a soft-boiled egg on the side, and a hint of spice. His personal chef’s touch, no doubt. How typical.

“Here.” He pushed the bowl towards you, chopsticks in hand, offering it like it was some grand gesture of peace.

You stared at it, the smell tempting your empty stomach. But hell no were you going to eat anything he gave you. Not after everything. It felt like taking pity food, and you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d done something nice.

“I don’t want to eat this,” you refused coldly, crossing your arms over your chest and turning your head away as if the sight of it disgusted you.

Sunghoon blinked, clearly taken aback by your blunt rejection. The chopsticks hovered mid-air, the ramen dangling precariously off the ends. “Then... what are you gonna eat?” His tone wasn’t mocking, just confused—like he couldn’t fathom why anyone would refuse gourmet ramen made by a personal chef.

You bit back a sigh, feeling the frustration bubbling under your skin. “The hospital food,” you replied flatly, knowing full well you had no intention of eating it. Who in their right mind actually wanted hospital food? But you weren’t going to let him win. Even if it meant enduring that tasteless mush, you would.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged, completely unfazed, and with the same calm indifference, he took a bite of the ramen himself. Leaning back in his chair, he made himself comfortable, savoring each bite like he had all the time in the world. The room was suddenly filled with the sound of his quiet chewing, and your irritation spiked.

“What the hell?” you muttered, glaring at him as he continued to eat in silence.

He glanced at you, the corner of his lips twitching as if he found this whole situation amusing. “You said you didn’t want it. So, I’m eating it.” His tone was maddeningly casual, as if the fact that you were lying there in a hospital bed while he enjoyed a meal meant absolutely nothing to him.

“I—” You started, but your words stuck in your throat. Was he doing this on purpose? You glared at him, eyes narrowing, your frustration palpable. Without thinking, you grabbed the nearest pillow and hurled it at him with all the strength you could muster.

It hit him square in the chest, the force of it barely making him flinch, but it was enough to get his attention.

“Just eat somewhere else!” you snapped, your voice raising a bit louder than you intended. “Not near me. You’re making me feel nauseous,” you added, feigning an exaggerated gag as you pressed your hand to your stomach, though in truth, your frustration was more mental than physical.

Sunghoon paused, chopsticks halfway to his mouth, his gaze flickering over to you. For a split second, you saw something in his eyes—something like amusement, or maybe even disbelief. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by his usual blank, indifferent expression.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered, pushing his chair back a few inches as if to placate you. He continued eating though, leaning further back, seemingly unbothered by your outburst.

You watched him in silence, your hands clenching the hospital blanket in frustration. How could someone be so infuriating? Every fiber of your being screamed to tell him off, to shout at him for being so... so... indifferent.

But deep down, you knew you couldn’t push him too far. As much as you hated it, this guy and his filthy rich family were the ones footing your hospital bills. Without them, you’d be in deep trouble, maybe even kicked out by now. You needed to be civil—just civil enough—to keep this uncomfortable arrangement going. But that didn’t mean you had to like it.

As Sunghoon continued eating, you couldn’t stop your mind from wandering. Your job. What the hell were you supposed to tell your workplace? They were going to fire you for taking such a long break, weren’t they? You were already behind on rent, behind on everything. And now, because of him, you were going to lose the only shred of stability you had left.

You glanced at him again, annoyance bubbling up inside you. This was all his fault.

Every second he stayed here, pretending to be remorseful, pretending to care—it only fueled your hatred more.

After finishing up his food, Sunghoon finally stood up from the chair, and for a blissful second, you thought he was about to leave. Peace, at last.

But no. You watched in dismay as he turned toward the door, only to return moments later with another steaming bowl of food—something undoubtedly made by his annoyingly talented personal chef again. Your stomach growled involuntarily at the sight of it, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing you wanted it.

Just as you were about to shoot him a glare, the nurse caring for you entered the room, pushing a small tray cart with the dreaded hospital food on it. Great. She offered a brief, polite smile as she placed the tray on your bedside table. The food looked even worse today—if that was even possible—bland and unappetizing, the kind of meal that probably hadn’t seen salt or seasoning in years.

“Here you go, sweetie. Make sure you eat something,” the nurse said warmly before quickly leaving the room, clearly unaware of the ongoing battle of wills between you and Sunghoon.

As soon as the door clicked shut, you looked over at him. He was watching you, his elbow lazily perched on the arm of the chair, his hand supporting his chin. A slow, amused smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. That damn smirk. The one that made you want to throw something at him—if it weren’t for your fractured leg keeping you bedridden.

“Thank you,” you muttered halfheartedly, reluctantly picking up the plastic spoon that came with the hospital food. You took a bite of the mushy, tasteless concoction, and immediately regretted it. It was like eating wet cardboard. You fought hard not to gag, your throat tightening as the flavorless blob slid down.

Sunghoon chuckled quietly from across the room, his eyes never leaving you. “I thought you wanted hospital food?” he teased, leaning forward just a little as if to get a better look at your suffering.

You made a face, a sickened grimace pulling at your lips as soon as the nurse was out of sight. The taste was vile. And worse yet, Sunghoon seemed to be thoroughly enjoying watching you struggle.

“Well?” he asked, raising an eyebrow, his smirk widening. He knew you didn’t want the hospital food. He knew, and that only seemed to make this entire situation even more entertaining for him.

Your pride was the only thing stopping you from throwing the tray out the window and devouring the meal he brought, but your body was betraying you. Your stomach growled again, loud enough for Sunghoon to hear. He chuckled, clearly amused by your stubbornness.

Before you could protest, he moved closer, balancing the bowl of ramen on his knee as he picked up his chopsticks. With an exaggerated nonchalance, he twirled some noodles around the chopsticks and brought them to your lips.

“Here,” he said, voice soft but teasing. “Just try it.”

You stared at the chopsticks hovering in front of you, your resolve weakening. The savory scent of the ramen was intoxicating, and before you knew it, your body betrayed you once again. You leaned forward and took a bite, unable to resist the warm, perfectly seasoned noodles. The difference in taste was almost enough to make you groan in relief.

Sunghoon’s smirk deepened as he watched you chew, his eyes glinting with amusement. “That’s a good girl,” he murmured, the words rolling off his tongue with a teasing lilt.

Your eyes snapped up to meet his, and you glared at him through a mouthful of ramen. “Don’t call me that,” you muttered, voice muffled as you chewed.

“Why not?” He tilted his head slightly, his lips quirking up in playful curiosity. “You don’t like being called a good girl?”

“It’s cringe,” you replied shortly, swallowing the bite. “Just... feed me, dude.”

He raised an eyebrow at the casual “dude” and let out a soft snort of laughter. “Don’t ‘dude’ me,” he shot back, his tone playfully offended. He twirled more noodles around the chopsticks and held them up for you again.

You glared at him but leaned in for another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the flavor. Dammit, the ramen was good. Stupid rich kids and their personal chefs.

“Why can’t you be nice to me for just one second?” he asked, his voice light but with an edge of genuine curiosity.

You scoffed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “Maybe because you literally got my leg fractured.”

He let out a low sigh, his face softening as he leaned back in the chair, one hand resting lazily on his thigh while the other still held the chopsticks. “That was a mistake.”

“A mistake that cost me my life,” you shot back, your voice laced with bitter sarcasm. You gestured to your leg, propped up awkwardly with a cast. “I can’t work. I’m stuck here. All because of you.”

He winced slightly, but it was brief, his calm expression returning just as quickly. “Yeah, but I’m paying for your bills and feeding you gourmet food. I think that counts for something.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks. I guess I’m supposed to be grateful that you’re throwing your money at the problem you caused,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

He leaned in again, closer this time, his face just inches from yours as he held up the chopsticks with a piece of soft-boiled egg. “You need protein to recover,” he said with mock seriousness, as if that somehow excused everything.

You gave him a long, unimpressed stare but opened your mouth reluctantly, letting him feed you the egg. It was delicious, of course.

Your bickering continued, the tension between you palpable—part frustration, part something you didn’t want to examine too closely. As much as you hated to admit it, there was something almost... comfortable in this strange back-and-forth. Even if he was insufferable. Even if he had ruined your life. There was something about the way he teased you, the way he looked at you with that annoying smirk, that was... unsettling in a way you couldn’t quite describe.

“Next time,” you muttered between bites, “just don’t call me a good girl.”

Sunghoon grinned, eyes glinting with amusement. “We’ll see.”

A WEEK HAD PASSED,

AND SOMEHOW, THIS GUY,

PARK SUNGHOON—

Had become an inescapable shadow in your life. He was always around, lingering like a ghost in the corner of your hospital room, and frankly, it was getting on your nerves. You’d half expected him to get bored and move on, but no, he was persistent. Today was no exception, as he casually strolled in, dressed far too well for someone who supposedly had nothing better to do.

As if the universe wanted to test you even more, you suddenly realized you needed to use the bathroom. Perfect. With a fractured leg and several other annoying injuries, it wasn’t exactly a simple task to just get up and go.

Your eyes flickered over to Sunghoon, who, as usual, was making himself comfortable in the chair beside your bed, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world. How does he not have work? you wondered. But then again, he was rich. He probably was the boss—no one to yell at him for skipping out.

An idea popped into your head, one so devious it made you almost grin. If you were stuck in this hell because of him, then he was going to suffer for it, too.

“I need to use the washroom,” you said, your voice dripping with forced sweetness. You shot him a smile so sugary it could give someone a cavity.

He looked up from his phone, raising a single eyebrow, his expression both confused and slightly suspicious. “And why are you telling me this?” His tone was casual, but you could tell he was wondering what you were up to.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Did he really not get it?

“Well,” you said, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly, “because you’re going to help me get there.”

Sunghoon’s face twisted into an expression of disbelief, the confusion deepening as he stared at you. His brows furrowed, and he glanced from you to your cast, clearly trying to make sense of the situation. “Can’t you just call the nurse?” he asked, his voice filled with exasperation.

You shrugged again, acting as though the answer was obvious. “The nurse is probably busy with other patients. You’re here, so... help me.”

For a moment, Sunghoon just stared at you, realizing that this was your revenge—your small, petty way of getting back at him. You could see the gears turning in his head as he weighed his options, but ultimately, he sighed, knowing full well this was his fault. He couldn’t say no. Not this time.

He stood up from his chair, slipping his phone into his pocket, and walked over to you. “Fine,” he grumbled under his breath, though there was a subtle trace of amusement in his voice. “Let’s get this over with.”

You smirked, raising your arms toward him in a silent, exaggerated demand for help. He gave you a look—one that said he knew exactly what you were doing—but he bent down anyway, carefully placing his arm around your back to help you sit up.

His movements were surprisingly gentle as he shifted you, mindful of your injuries. For a moment, you almost forgot you were supposed to hate him, but the memory of your fractured leg came rushing back as you awkwardly stood, balancing on your good leg while he held you up.

“You’ve done this before, right?” you teased, leaning a bit more heavily on him than necessary.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t answer, his grip tightening around your waist as he helped you off the bed. “Just don’t fall on me,” he muttered, his voice laced with mild frustration.

You let out a small, fake gasp. “Are you afraid of a little contact, Sunghoon?” you asked, your tone dripping with mock innocence.

His jaw clenched slightly, but he ignored your jab, shifting his weight to better support you as he guided you toward the bathroom. “Gosh, why can’t you just call the nurse like a normal person?” he groaned, sounding far more exasperated now that he was actually having to deal with you.

“Because,” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “this is your fault. You got me into this mess, and now you get to deal with it.”

He sighed again, clearly trying his hardest not to snap back at you. You could practically hear the patience draining out of him as he helped you into the bathroom, your body leaning heavily on his arm as you hobbled on one leg. His other hand hovered near your cast, careful not to jostle it.

Once you were inside the small bathroom, he slowly backed out, giving you space but not before shooting you a deadpan look. “You good?”

You smirked, biting back a laugh. “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”

Sunghoon closed the door behind him with a soft click, but not before calling through the wood, “Just yell when you’re finished, Your Highness.”

Leaning against the bathroom sink, you couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. Revenge tasted sweet, even if it was petty. You knew Sunghoon didn’t want to be here, playing nurse, but it felt good to trouble him—just a little.

You took your time, prolonging your stay in the bathroom for as long as possible, savoring the knowledge that Sunghoon was waiting outside. Maybe it was childish, but it made you feel a bit better, if only for a moment.

As you lingered in the bathroom, relishing in your small, mischievous victory, Sunghoon's voice rang out from the other side of the door, his tone laced with irritation.

“You done?” he called out, his voice slightly muffled through the door.

You smirked, leaning your head back against the cool tile of the bathroom wall, debating whether to prolong this little game. But fate, it seemed, had other plans for you. In your attempt to stand up properly, your balance wavered. Your injured leg buckled slightly, causing you to slip, creating a loud thud that echoed off the walls.

“Oh God?! Did you break your leg again?” Sunghoon’s voice immediately shifted from annoyance to a surprising edge of concern. You could hear the door handle jiggle as he attempted to open it.

In a panic, you yelled back before he could barge in. “Don’t even try! I haven’t pulled my pants up!” Your voice wobbled between panic and embarrassment, heat rising to your cheeks despite yourself.

There was a brief pause, followed by a mixture of relief and exasperation in his tone. “Seriously?”

You could practically feel his embarrassment from behind the door as he rubbed the back of his neck, caught between wanting to help and this awkward situation. “Then pull them up!” he said, as though that solved everything. The sheer audacity of his tone made your eye twitch.

“Listen, boy,” you snapped, your voice dripping with sarcasm and frustration. “If I could pull them up, don’t you think I’d be able to walk out? I’m literally stuck on the floor. And it’s disgusting down here!”

His groan was audible through the door, no doubt paired with him running a hand over his face in disbelief. “Are you serious right now?” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

The back-and-forth bickering continued for what felt like forever, with you calling out orders and him grumbling on the other side of the door. After what seemed like an eternity, you finally gave up trying to maintain any shred of dignity in this situation.

“Okay, I pulled them up! Now, help me get out of here,” you finally yelled, exhausted from the struggle.

Sunghoon let out a deep, exaggerated sigh of relief, one that almost made you want to smack him if it weren’t for your current predicament. “Phew, finally.” You could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

The door opened, and Sunghoon stepped inside with a mix of irritation and amusement. He bent down to help you, slipping his arm around your waist once more, lifting you up with practiced ease. You let out a small huff as he guided your weight against him, his warm hand steadying you as your body adjusted to standing again.

Without another word, you wobbled toward the sink, more than ready to return to the bed, but you couldn’t just ignore the fact that your hands were still dirty. Sunghoon kept his arm around you as you leaned over the sink to wash your hands, his eyes narrowing as he observed what you were doing.

"You..." he started, trailing off, his eyes slowly widening in horror. “You haven’t washed your hands yet, have you?”

You glanced up at him through the mirror, raising an eyebrow. “Obviously not. I fell, genius,” you muttered, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sunghoon’s face instantly paled, his eyes darting from his hands to yours, his expression shifting from shock to absolute disgust. He immediately let go of you, stepping back like you’d just told him you had the plague.

“You did NOT just touch me with unwashed hands,” he said, his voice a mix of horror and disgust as he dramatically recoiled. His hand hovered in the air, shaking slightly, before he rushed to the other side of the sink, furiously scrubbing his hands with soap, as though he were trying to rid himself of every possible germ.

Watching him panic was somehow immensely satisfying, a smug grin curling your lips as you watched him suffer in disgust. “Eww, eww, eww!” he muttered to himself as he scrubbed, his face twisted in revulsion.

“Serves you right,” you quipped, leaning back against the wall, watching him frantically rinse his hands as though his life depended on it.

“You’re disgusting,” he shot back, glaring at you through the mirror, but the corner of his mouth twitched as though he were trying hard not to smile.

"Don’t act like I planned to fall, Sunghoon,” you retorted, crossing your arms as you continued to lean on him for support, your smirk never faltering. “But seeing you in pain—this... disgust—I gotta admit, it feels kinda good.”

He shot you a look, half exasperated and half amused, running a hand through his hair. “You’re something else,” he muttered, shaking his head as he helped you back toward the bed.

As much as you wanted to hate him, there was something oddly... endearing about his reaction. The tension between the two of you simmered beneath the surface, a strange mix of frustration, amusement, and something else you refused to acknowledge.

“I know,” you said, smirking as you let him help you lie down on the bed again. “I’m the best kind of trouble.”

Sunghoon scoffed, rolling his eyes, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—something that made the air between you shift. For a moment, the banter fell silent, replaced by an unspoken tension. You both looked away at the same time, the quiet hum of the hospital room filling the space where your words had been.

It wasn’t hatred, not anymore—not exactly. It was something far more complicated than that.

AGAIN,

The next week went by in a haze of frustration, playful revenge, and shared irritations. What had started as your deep-seated hatred for Sunghoon for causing your fractured leg evolved into something less easy to define. It became a bizarre game of you tormenting him with every small inconvenience, while he reluctantly dealt with the trouble, almost as if he believed he deserved it. You had no idea why he kept coming back, why he hadn't just left you to the hospital staff—yet here he was. Every day. Helping you.

And today? Today, you were bored out of your mind, sick of the sterile walls of your hospital room and the bland hospital gown clinging uncomfortably to your skin. The thought of sitting in that stiff bed for another minute was unbearable. Naturally, you decided Sunghoon should suffer the consequences of your boredom too. After all, he was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Take me out for a walk,” you’d said earlier, putting on your best guilt-trip face. “It’s the weekend, you have time. I’ve been stuck here for days.”

Sunghoon, standing at the foot of your bed with an exasperated sigh, had rubbed his temples as if debating whether to throw you into the wheelchair himself or just walk out. But he didn't. With a reluctant grunt and a muttered “Fine, whatever,” he agreed, grabbing the wheelchair from the corner and helping you into it.

Now, as he pushed you down the hospital hallway, your eyes gleamed with mischief. Your fractured leg was propped up awkwardly, wrapped in thick layers of bandages, and your body was still healing, but you were reveling in making him work for it.

"The garden!" you demanded, pointing outside through the glass doors like a queen giving orders to her servant.

Sunghoon, visibly tired from both the physical effort and the mental strain of dealing with you, gave a long-suffering sigh. “You enjoy this,” he muttered, his voice barely hiding the annoyance beneath. It wasn’t a question. He knew you were having way too much fun making his life difficult.

You didn’t answer him. Instead, you leaned back in the wheelchair with a smug grin, watching the trees and flowers of the hospital garden come into view. The warm sunlight kissed your skin, a far cry from the cold hospital walls. This, oddly enough, felt freeing. And it was even better knowing Sunghoon was stuck with you through it. He owed you, after all.

As you rolled along the garden’s paths, you caught sight of something from the corner of your eye—flashes. The unmistakable click of cameras. Paparazzi.

Your smile widened. You remembered the lies Sunghoon had told the nurse—how he had casually, with that infuriating confidence, claimed you were his girlfriend to save face. He was wealthy, privileged, and undoubtedly terrified of the media catching wind of the real story—that he was the one who crashed into you and got you in this mess.

A WICKED IDEA BLOOMED IN YOUR MIND.

Without warning, you let out a loud, exaggerated sob, your shoulders shaking dramatically as you hid your face in your hands. The sound echoed across the garden, loud enough that even the photographers several feet away perked up, their lenses immediately focusing on you.

Sunghoon immediately froze, halting the wheelchair in confusion. “What are you doing?” he asked, his brow furrowing as he moved to your side, kneeling down beside you. His eyes darted around, realizing the attention you were drawing.

But you didn’t stop. You cried even louder, your voice cracking as you spoke, “It’s because of you! You ruined me! You ruined my life!” Your words were over the top, a dramatic sob story for the cameras.

Sunghoon’s eyes went wide with panic, his expression a mix of horror and disbelief as the realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He glanced over at the paparazzi, whose cameras were now flashing like crazy, capturing every tear, every quiver of your voice. “You’re kidding, right?” His voice was low, trying to keep his cool but clearly rattled.

You shot him a look through tear-filled eyes that could have won you an Oscar for Best Actress. “I can’t believe you did this to me,” you sobbed again, clutching your leg for dramatic effect. “All because you weren’t paying attention!”

He leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper as he desperately tried to contain the situation. “Please, don’t do this,” he pleaded, his eyes darting nervously between you and the flashing cameras.

But you weren’t done. Oh no. You were just getting started. “I should’ve never trusted you!” you wailed, loud enough for the photographers to pick up every word.

Sunghoon’s jaw clenched, panic flooding his features as the paparazzi moved closer, their cameras capturing every second of your breakdown. He looked desperate, and it was almost... satisfying. Watching him squirm under the weight of his own lies felt like sweet revenge.

You were just about to spill the whole truth—about how he’d been the one to hit you with his motorbike, how he’d been pretending you were his girlfriend to save his reputation—when Sunghoon, clearly sensing what you were about to do, suddenly placed his hand firmly over your mouth, silencing you in an instant.

Your eyes widened in shock as his palm pressed against your lips. Without saying a word, he grabbed the wheelchair handles with his other hand and started pushing you back toward the hospital entrance, ignoring the flurry of camera flashes now going wild as the paparazzi captured the scene.

You muffled against his hand, glaring at him furiously as he practically ran down the hospital pathway, steering you out of sight from the media frenzy.

He didn’t stop until you were back inside the hospital, away from prying eyes. When he finally removed his hand from your mouth, you gasped, shooting him a withering glare.

“What the hell, Sunghoon?!” you yelled, still breathless from the intensity of it all.

He turned to face you, his expression a mixture of frustration and something you couldn’t quite place. “What the hell? Are you insane?! You were going to ruin me out there!”

“I should ruin you!” you shot back, crossing your arms as best as you could in the wheelchair. “You deserve it!”

His face softened for just a split second, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes. “Yeah, maybe I do,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “But don’t think for a second I’m going to let you drag me down that easily.”

You stared at him, caught off guard by the sudden tension between you—something beyond the irritation, beyond the bickering. Something you weren’t quite ready to acknowledge.

He turned away, gripping the wheelchair handles once more as he moved you back toward your room in silence. And as much as you hated him, you couldn’t help but feel something else too.

As Sunghoon pushed your wheelchair back into the hospital, you couldn’t help but notice the other patients scattered throughout the halls. Most were older, their faces worn with the kind of wisdom you only get from enduring the passage of time. You saw them glance your way, eyes lighting up with admiration, clearly assuming that you and Sunghoon were some kind of tragic but loving couple, destined to overcome hardship together.

Ha. As if.

There wasn’t a drop of love here. The very thought made you internally cringe. If only they knew the truth—that Sunghoon was the reason you were in this wheelchair in the first place. That this whole ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ facade was just a cover-up for his recklessness. But, no. To them, he was probably some knight in shining armor, dutifully pushing his beloved around the hospital.

You caught a glimpse of an elderly woman giving you a soft smile, and you had to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. This wasn’t a fairytale romance—it was a mess. A tangled, ridiculous mess.

Sunghoon finally maneuvered you back into your hospital room, the wheels of the chair squeaking as he parked it beside your bed. He bent down, his fingers curling around the handles of the wheelchair as if ready to help you out. For a brief second, you could see the faint lines of stress etched into his face, the way his jaw was clenched just a little too tightly.

Before he could do anything, though, his phone buzzed. He glanced down at the screen, eyebrows knitting together in a frown. He hesitated, clearly debating whether or not to answer, but eventually muttered, “I’ll just take this real quick.”

He stepped away, answering the call with a curt, “Yeah?” His voice was low, tense. As the conversation unfolded, you heard snippets of his replies: “I know better,” and “I’m an adult,” followed by a string of sighs. You couldn’t hear the other person on the line, but you could guess. It was probably one of his parents, likely lecturing him for spending so much time around you. After all, why would the rich, polished Sunghoon waste his precious time with some girl he’d accidentally injured?

But the truth was, Sunghoon couldn’t just up and leave you. Oh no. The media was already onto you both, snapping pictures every time you were in public together. If he suddenly disappeared now, they’d think he was the kind of guy who bailed on his girlfriend just because she got injured. His reputation would plummet faster than you’d hit the ground earlier.

Still, was it the truth? That Sunghoon didn’t want to be around you?

The reality was more complicated. You couldn’t even imagine calling him a friend, let alone anything more. This was a weird, temporary arrangement—nothing else.

“I’ll be back,” Sunghoon muttered under his breath, still distracted by his phone. Without a second glance in your direction, he hurried out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he disappeared.

Wait. What?

You blinked, staring at the empty space where he had been just moments ago. Did he seriously just walk out without helping you get back into bed? Your mouth fell open in disbelief.

“Are you kidding me?” you whispered to the empty room.

You waited, expecting him to come back any minute now, to walk in with that same frustrated expression and a sarcastic apology on his lips. Five minutes passed. Then ten. Fifteen. Nothing.

An entire hour dragged by, and still—no Sunghoon. The nurse was nowhere to be found either, probably off on her rounds, leaving you completely and utterly alone.

The frustration boiled inside you. There was no way you were going to stay trapped in this wheelchair any longer. It wasn’t comfortable, and the bed—despite being stiff and unwelcoming—looked like heaven compared to the cold seat you were stuck in.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to do it yourself.

Carefully, you placed your hands on the armrests, trying to hoist yourself up. Your fractured leg protested immediately, the dull ache turning into a sharp pain, but you ignored it. You couldn’t afford to fall, not now. You just had to get onto the bed.

One step. Then another.

You winced as your good leg took the brunt of your weight, wobbling unsteadily. It was like trying to walk a tightrope while holding a stack of plates. Your body swayed, arms trembling as you gripped the bed frame for support. Almost there. You could feel the edge of the mattress pressing against your fingertips.

And then—your foot slipped.

With a sickening thud, you fell face-first into the mattress, your body collapsing awkwardly against the bed frame. Pain shot through your leg as you let out a sharp gasp.

“Damn it!” you cursed under your breath, your voice muffled by the bedspread. “Sunghoon, this is all your fault!”

You lay there for a moment, too stunned and too furious to move. How could he just leave you like that? The idiot was probably off taking some important call while you were stuck in this miserable situation. Your hatred for him simmered again, bubbling to the surface like boiling water ready to spill over.

With a groan, you tried to push yourself up, your muscles straining as you fought to get into a proper position on the bed. Your face burned with embarrassment and anger. All you could think about was how Sunghoon was going to get an earful when—if—he ever came back.

But, despite the frustration, there was something else gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. Something you didn’t want to acknowledge. Something about the way his expression had softened just before he left, like he wasn’t entirely indifferent to you. Like there was something there, beneath all the sarcastic quips and exasperated sighs.

No. You shook your head, refusing to entertain the idea. This wasn’t some cliché hospital romance where the guy who ruined your life suddenly became your savior. Sunghoon wasn’t some misunderstood prince charming. He was just... Sunghoon. Annoying, frustrating, and absolutely the last person you wanted to deal with.

Still, as you lay there, face buried in the hospital bed, you couldn’t help but feel that gnawing frustration twisting into something else. Something far more complicated.

THE NEXT DAY PASSED IN A HAZE.

And the day after that.

And another day.

Each one crawled by, dragging itself through hours that felt like days. But Sunghoon didn’t return. Not a text, not a call, not even a shadow of his presence outside your hospital room. You didn’t want to admit it, but his absence gnawed at you. Was he sick? Had something happened? Why the hell were you even wondering about it?

You shouldn’t care.

You didn’t care.

In fact, you should be overjoyed if he had caught some miserable flu. Or—better yet—if he had gotten into trouble of his own for once. You’d be happy. Relieved, even.

Right?

Except, you weren’t. Something unsettling tugged at the back of your mind. Maybe it was guilt, maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t said a word before disappearing. But the more you tried to push the thought away, the more it latched onto you.

And then the door to your hospital room creaked open, a slow twist of the knob announcing a presence you hadn’t expected.

In walked a woman.

Her aura screamed wealth, a kind of quiet, effortless opulence that you recognized instantly—the tailored coat, the way her silk scarf draped perfectly over her shoulders, and most notably, her glasses. You had never seen anyone wear glasses that looked like they cost more than your entire hospital stay.

She didn’t spare you much of a glance at first, too busy taking off her glasses with a dismissive flick of her wrist. But as soon as her eyes met yours, you felt the air shift. Her gaze was sharp, calculating, and instantly made you sit up straighter in bed, pressing your back against the headboard.

Was this Sunghoon’s mother?

The question popped into your mind, but the answer came without you having to ask. Her next words confirmed everything.

“So, you’re that girl,” she said, her voice clipped as her eyes flickered over you. It wasn’t even a question, more of a statement. You were that girl—the one her son had dragged into this mess. You shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, but somehow managed to muster some sarcasm.

“Yeah, the girl your son fractured the leg of,” you shot back, the words leaving your mouth with a little too much venom. But, realizing this was probably not the time for jokes, you cleared your throat.

The woman didn’t look amused. Instead, she merely hummed, clearly not interested in exchanging pleasantries.

“I’m here to talk,” she said flatly, ignoring your tone entirely. Her eyes, sharp as ever, stayed fixed on you, not even bothering with an introduction. You could hear some faint commotion outside the room, likely the nurses eavesdropping, curious about the sudden appearance of such an elegant woman.

“Okay…” you replied, scratching the back of your neck nervously, your mind already racing. What could she possibly want?

Without a hint of hesitation, Sunghoon’s mother stepped closer to your bed, pulling something out of her bag—a cheque. She laid it on your blanket-covered lap with a kind of quiet authority that made it clear this wasn’t a negotiation.

“Take this,” she said, her voice calm but firm. “And leave my son.”

You blinked, staring at the cheque in disbelief. Was this really happening? It felt like a scene ripped straight out of a cheesy drama. Your mouth opened to respond, but before you could, she continued, her tone icy and business-like.

“If the media says anything, tell them the two of you broke up because of something you did.”

The words hit you like a slap. So this was it, huh? A payoff. A quick exit plan for the inconvenience you had become. Without thinking, you picked up the cheque. Shamelessly, even. You weren’t going to pretend like you weren’t curious. Your eyes widened slightly as you glanced at the amount.

It was a lot.

Enough to cover an expensive surgery. Heck, enough to completely change your life—your face, your identity. Maybe even start fresh. Your heart raced for a moment, but then a sneaky idea popped into your head. Maybe you could push this a little further.

“I can’t take this,” you muttered, putting on your best ‘reluctant’ act. You hoped it came off as genuine, like you were too noble to accept a bribe. You glanced up at her from under your lashes, waiting to see her reaction.

For a split second, her eyes narrowed, and then—without a word—she reached into her bag again, pulling out another cheque. This one was double the amount of the first.

Your internal grin nearly split your face in two.

“I’ll take it,” you replied immediately, the words leaving your mouth faster than you could process them. You grabbed the second cheque, abandoning any pretense of hesitation. This was too good to pass up. Who cared about Sunghoon? You weren’t even his girlfriend. You didn’t owe him anything, and this was way too much money to let go.

Sunghoon’s mother arched a brow, a small smirk curling at the corner of her lips. “You’re smart,” she said, her voice dripping with a patronizing kind of approval. Before you could even react, she patted your head like you were some kind of obedient puppy. The gesture made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to stay still, biting back the urge to snap at her.

With that, she turned and strode out of the room, her heels clicking against the tiled floor in a rhythm that oozed confidence and control. You watched her leave, the door closing with a soft click behind her.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the distant chatter outside the door. You glanced down at the cheques in your hands, the weight of them sinking in.

You couldn’t help but laugh under your breath. This was it. After years of living in that godforsaken orphanage, of scraping by, of enduring the endless bullying—you were finally getting a break.

Who knew a fractured leg could be this profitable? If this was what came from one little accident, maybe getting hit again wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.

At least you knew one thing for sure: money beats boys. Every time.

YOU EXPECTED TO NEVER SEE SUNGHOON EVER AGAIN. In fact, you had made peace with it—or, at least, you thought you had. But that didn’t stop the daily ritual that had developed between you, Wonyoung, and Hanni.

They sat on either side of your hospital bed, a swirl of indignation and venom, bitching relentlessly about the guy who had caused all of this—Sunghoon.

At least you had your friends. They were here, taking time out of their lives to be by your side, and if that wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was. Wonyoung sat perched on the edge of the hospital bed, her legs crossed with effortless grace, while Hanni lounged at the foot of your bed, absently stroking your hair like you were a cat. They had barely paused for breath since they’d walked into the room, diving headfirst into their favorite topic: how much they despised Sunghoon.

"I mean, the guy just fractures your leg and disappears without so much as a note?" Wonyoung scoffed, her voice dripping with disbelief as she flung her arms in the air like she wanted to strangle him. She shot you a look that said how could you have possibly put up with this idiot?

“And let’s not forget,” Hanni added, leaning forward conspiratorially as if Sunghoon might somehow hear them through the walls, “he’s probably just out there living his little rich boy life while you’re stuck in here, waiting for your leg to heal.”

She shook her head in disgust, fingers still lightly grazing your scalp. “Rich bastards are always like this,” she muttered under her breath, giving you a soft pat like she was reassuring you that you weren’t alone in your suffering.

You could feel a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, watching the two of them fuel each other’s fire. Neither of them had actually met Sunghoon, but they hated him with the burning passion of a thousand suns, and honestly, it was kind of hilarious to watch.

“I know, right? Like, how dare he?” Wonyoung continued, practically vibrating with indignation. “Does he think just because he’s rich and pretty, he can just act like that and not have any consequences?”

Her eyes narrowed, lips pulling into a thin line, as she mimicked slapping someone in the air. “If I ever see him, I swear to god I’m going to knock some sense into that stupid, spoiled—”

“Oh, please,” Hanni interrupted with a snort. “If you ever saw him, you'd probably get distracted by how disgustingly handsome he is and forget all about punching him.”

Wonyoung blinked at her, feigning innocence. “Me? Never. I’m immune to pretty boys.”

“Sure.” Hanni teased, rolling her eyes. “Tell that to your last crush.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at their bickering, the sound surprising you. It was strange how comforting their presence was, even though all they seemed to do was rip into Sunghoon. Not that you minded, of course. They were right—he deserved it. Completely.

…Right?

You listened as they went back and forth, each taking turns trashing him for his ghosting act. The more they bitched, the more venomous their words became, but somewhere deep down, you couldn’t help but feel a small, annoying tug of… something else.

Sure, you hated Sunghoon. You absolutely detested him. He had caused this whole mess, fractured your leg, and then vanished into thin air without so much as a “Sorry, hope you’re doing okay.” The guy didn’t even have the decency to send flowers. Who does that?

But… still. A part of you—a very, very tiny part—missed him. Even though he was infuriating. Even though he’d probably caused you more stress than anyone else in your life. You couldn’t shake the strange pang of absence, the way the hospital room felt oddly emptier without him awkwardly hovering around like your personal nurse. Maybe it was the fact that, for a few fleeting moments, you’d been able to annoy the hell out of him and enjoy watching him fumble over basic hospital tasks. There was a twisted kind of satisfaction in making a guy like him—a spoiled, oblivious rich boy—take care of you.

But more than that, you missed having someone to direct your frustration at. As much as you enjoyed watching Wonyoung and Hanni tear him to shreds on your behalf, it wasn’t quite the same.

“Seriously, though,” Hanni said, dragging you out of your thoughts, “I bet he’s out at some fancy restaurant right now, eating caviar or whatever rich people eat, without a single thought about you.”

Wonyoung huffed, leaning back on her elbows. “Probably. You know, I bet he’s never even eaten instant ramen. Can you imagine?”

You snorted. “Yeah, because the moment he tastes anything less than five-star cuisine, his delicate palate might collapse.”

Wonyoung laughed, but then her expression grew more serious. “It’s just messed up, though. He leaves you here to rot, and for what? Did he even like you?”

You shrugged, trying to keep your tone light. “Who knows? I think I was just a… distraction for him.”

“That’s even worse,” Hanni said, crossing her arms. “Honestly, you should’ve asked for more when his mom came by with that cheque. They owe you a hell of a lot more than just money after all this.”

Wonyoung’s eyes widened. “Wait, his mom came here? And gave you money?”

“Oh, right. I forgot to mention that part,” you said, suppressing a grin as you leaned back against your pillow. “Yeah, his mom basically bribed me to stay away from him. Two cheques, actually.”

Hanni’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Wish I was,” you replied, the grin breaking free. “Apparently, I was such a nuisance that she wanted to pay me off to disappear from Sunghoon’s life for good.”

Wonyoung let out a low whistle. “Damn. You should’ve held out for a third cheque.”

“Honestly,” Hanni added, shaking her head in disbelief. “Rich people are something else.”

You laughed, a bit more genuinely this time, as they continued to bitch about Sunghoon and his high-society family. But despite the humor and the camaraderie, there was still that nagging feeling. That tiny, irritating itch in the back of your mind.

You didn’t miss him—not exactly. But maybe, just maybe, you missed the chaos that came with him. And, unfortunately, chaos had a way of finding its way back.

You just didn’t know it yet.

“Woah, I didn’t expect you to bad bitch about me the second I disappear,” came a familiar voice from the doorway, smooth and dripping with sarcasm. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it was. The all-too-familiar dramatic hurt expression was already imprinted in your mind—the same one Sunghoon wore whenever he wanted to be the center of attention, which was, frankly, all the time.

You snapped your head in his direction, and there he was—leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed as if he hadn't just walked in unannounced, with that smug smirk plastered on his ridiculously perfect face. His brows were raised in mock disbelief, his lips twisted into an amused pout, as if he'd caught you red-handed in the act of a crime. How dare you talk about me when I’m not here? his expression screamed. But it wasn’t just that. No. Sunghoon looked… annoyingly good.

The worst part? He knew it.

Hanni and Wonyoung, who had been enthusiastically leading the charge in your anti-Sunghoon crusade just moments ago, froze mid-rant, their jaws practically hitting the floor. The air thickened with awkward tension, the kind that made your stomach do a weird flip. You glanced at your friends, fully expecting them to keep up the bitching. Surely, they wouldn’t back down now—not after all the trash-talking they’d just unleashed on his name, right? But when you turned to look at them, all you saw were wide eyes and flushed cheeks.

Wait a minute. Were they… shy?

Hanni was the first to break. Her voice, usually sharp and unfiltered, faltered as she stared at Sunghoon like he had descended from the heavens. “Were we talking about him?” she whispered under her breath, as if you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes cursing his existence. She blinked, clearly taken aback by his presence. So handsome, so— you could practically hear her thoughts scrambling for coherence.

Wonyoung, on the other hand, was shamelessly gawking. Gone was the fire-breathing dragon ready to rip Sunghoon to shreds. Instead, she was wide-eyed, as if she’d never seen a human so beautiful in her life. “Uh…” She trailed off, her brain short-circuiting under his gaze. So much for being immune to pretty boys.

You huffed, rolling your eyes at their sudden change of demeanor. Traitors.

Before you could say anything, Sunghoon took a leisurely step into the room, his presence practically swallowing the space whole. “Your mom told me to stay away from you,” you muttered under your breath, glaring at him in the hopes that it would somehow send him running for the hills. As if mentioning his mother would magically undo his annoying existence. “And by the way,” you added, “I’m not giving that money back. No way.”

Sunghoon’s smirk only widened, the infuriating bastard. “Well, yeah,” he said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather, “she told you to stay away from me, but I’m still allowed to stay close to you. You’re not the one initiating this.” He shrugged, as if his logic was sound and you were the one being difficult.

You stared at him, dumbfounded. What? You actually had to tilt your head back to process that nonsense. Was he serious? You blinked, glanced up at the ceiling as if the answer to his ridiculous statement might be written up there, and then back at him.

He wasn’t joking.

You were about to retort—about to remind him just how absurd that sounded—when you glanced at your two supposed best friends, expecting them to jump in and tear him a new one. But instead, they were still sitting there, suddenly very preoccupied with… being shy? Their gazes darted anywhere but at Sunghoon, as if he was some untouchable, otherworldly figure they couldn’t dare criticize anymore.

You scoffed under your breath. Unbelievable.

“Well…” You tried to gather your thoughts, but before you could finish, Hanni shifted beside you—by accident, of course—and her elbow brushed against your injured leg. Pain shot through your body, and you winced, sucking in a sharp breath. “Ow!”

Immediately, Sunghoon was at your side, crossing the room in a flash, his expression now serious as he kneeled beside you, his hands hovering over your injured leg. “Are you okay? Let me see.”

Your instinct was to push him away—to tell him to back off and leave you alone. The last thing you needed was him fussing over you like he actually cared. But you were injured, and Sunghoon had the upper hand—literally. His fingers gently pressed against your leg, checking to see if you were in pain, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t stop him. You tried to shove him off, but he was stronger, and your body wasn’t exactly in fighting shape.

“Stop—” you muttered, but your voice was weak. And, truthfully, despite how much you hated him, you let him check because… well, he was good at it. Annoyingly good.

Hanni, meanwhile, had the audacity to mutter under her breath, “Should’ve brought popcorn. This is hella interesting.” She shot you a guilty look, clearly aware that she’d caused the whole thing by bumping into your leg, but that didn’t stop her from thoroughly enjoying the drama unfolding right before her eyes.

Wonyoung, who had somehow recovered from her stunned silence, leaned back and muttered, “Right.” She was watching the whole scene play out like she was stuck in the middle of some romantic comedy, her eyes darting between you and Sunghoon like she was waiting for the inevitable kiss scene.

“Weren’t you two on the #hatehim team?” you hissed, glaring at both of them as Sunghoon finally pulled back, satisfied that your leg wasn’t worse off than before.

Wonyoung blinked innocently, already gathering her things. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah,” Hanni added with a shrug, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off her jeans. “We’re just, uh… neutral parties.”

Before you could even comprehend what was happening, they both stood, gathered their bags, and exchanged quick looks like they had just silently agreed on something. In unison, they made their way to the door, Wonyoung gesturing for Hanni to follow her like they were in some secret mission.

“Wait—are you leaving?!” you called after them, your voice laced with disbelief.

Hanni flashed you an apologetic smile, but her feet didn’t stop moving. “We’ll see you later! Good luck!”

With that, the two of them excused themselves, slipping out of the room like nothing had happened, leaving you alone with Sunghoon. You blinked after them, incredulous. They had changed their minds way too fast. How the hell did that even happen? Just ten minutes ago, they had been ripping Sunghoon apart, and now? Now they were acting like he was some kind of romantic hero who had fallen from the stars to sweep you off your feet.

You sighed, sinking back against your pillow.

But even as you stared at the door, trying to figure out how your two best friends had suddenly betrayed you, the nagging worry crept back into your mind. The cheques. You couldn’t help but glance at Sunghoon out of the corner of your eye, wondering if he would tell his mom about this little reunion. You would kill him if the money got taken back.

And just like that, Sunghoon was once again at the center of your frustrations—always, always causing trouble.

THE FACT THAT THE SUNGHOON — the only son of Park Corporation—had re-entered your life wasn’t exactly a secret, nor did it stay hidden from the one person who mattered most: his mother. There was no way she’d let this slide. And just as you predicted, not long after Sunghoon's unexpected return, his mother showed up at your hospital room door once again, this time with backup.

And by backup, you meant Sunghoon's older cousin brother, Jay. A man whose only crime, as far as you could tell, was being related to the Park family. If Sunghoon was infuriating, Jay seemed like he’d rather be anywhere else but here. His discomfort radiated off him like a bad cologne—too strong, and kind of pitiful. His eyes darted nervously around the room, like he was scared to make eye contact with you. Honestly, you weren’t even sure if he knew why he was there.

Mrs. Park nudged him sharply, her manicured nails digging into his arm. “Tell her,” she hissed, clearly fed up with his lack of initiative.

Jay, however, looked more like he was preparing for a high school speech than an intimidating favor-demanding confrontation. He rubbed the back of his neck, looked down at his palm, probably reciting some mental script he had prepared on the way here, and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Uh… so…”

You raised an eyebrow. Was this really happening? The Park Corporation sent this guy? This was their best shot at trying to intimidate you? First, Sunghoon barges into your life like a hurricane, and now his cousin shows up, looking like he’s one deep breath away from fainting. Honestly, you felt bad for Mrs. Park. How did she expect these two to run a massive conglomerate? You stifled a laugh, pity almost bubbling up in your chest.

Before Jay could stumble through another word, though, the door burst open, and in walked the person you least wanted to see. Of course. Of course Sunghoon had perfect timing. He always seemed to show up when things were about to get interesting, like some messed-up alarm system that detected whenever you were about to make some extra cash off his family’s dramatics. You barely blinked before he was standing there, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe as if he hadn’t just barged in.

“Jay,” Sunghoon muttered, his tone heavy with disappointment, “You too?”

Jay immediately straightened up, as if trying to salvage what little pride he had left. “Your mom asked me to. Trust me, I didn’t want to do this.” He stepped back, throwing his hands up as though he were surrendering to the inevitable.

Sunghoon’s mother, however, had zero patience for this nonsense. She let out a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand to her temple as if dealing with two grown men acting like toddlers was giving her a migraine. “What else could I do when my son is wasting his time on this?” She waved a hand in your direction, as though you were an unpleasant distraction from Sunghoon’s otherwise charmed life. Her voice dripped with irritation, as though you were personally responsible for ruining her perfectly laid plans.

You paused mid-bite, glancing at her with an amused smirk. She had brought her son’s cousin to what? Scare you? Threaten you into backing off? You leaned back against the pillows on your hospital bed, casually spearing another piece of the expensive meal Sunghoon had brought you earlier. A luxurious spread, by the way. How thoughtful. You chewed slowly, savoring both the food and the unfolding chaos in front of you. It was like watching a soap opera, but better, because it was real. And because you were the center of it.

Sunghoon ran a hand through his hair, visibly annoyed by his mother’s theatrics. “This again? Seriously, Mom?” His gaze flickered toward Jay, who was doing his best to blend into the wallpaper. “You got Jay involved in this?”

“He didn’t have a choice,” Mrs. Park snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. She stood in the middle of the room, clearly expecting to command the entire situation with her presence alone. “I can’t just stand by while you throw away your future on—” She glanced at you with disdain, the kind only a Park could muster. “This girl.”

You snorted, taking another bite of food. “This girl is sitting right here, you know.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flicked to you, briefly softening in what might have been sympathy—or maybe annoyance. Hard to tell. Either way, he turned back to his mother, exasperation bleeding into his voice. “I’m not ‘throwing away’ anything. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

His mother wasn’t having it. “You’ve been running around for days, ignoring your responsibilities for this… this situation!” She gestured dramatically toward you as if you were some scandalous tabloid headline.

You set down your fork and raised an eyebrow. “It’s cute that you think you can still control him.”

Sunghoon gave you a look that screamed you’re not helping.

Mrs. Park glared at her son, then at you, her lips pressing into a thin line. “This isn’t about control,” she said icily, her voice sharp enough to cut glass. “It’s about ensuring you don’t ruin your life over some impulsive decision.”

Jay, meanwhile, looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. He kept glancing between the three of you, clearly regretting every single decision that led him here. He took a step back, slowly edging toward the door, clearly hoping no one would notice him escaping.

“Oh, no you don’t,” you said, your voice teasing but firm, “You’re part of this mess now, Jay.”

His eyes widened in mild panic. “I—I don’t—”

But before he could defend himself, Sunghoon’s mother cut in, “Jay, tell her.” She prodded him again, practically pushing him into the spotlight.

Jay rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting around the room like he was looking for an exit. “Uh, look, I… I don’t really want to do this, but…” He paused, throwing an apologetic look your way, “Can you just… maybe think about backing off? Just… consider it? For me?” His voice was pleading, clearly not cut out for this whole intimidation thing.

Sunghoon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as if this entire situation was giving him a migraine. “This is ridiculous.”

“Is it?” His mother snapped. “You’re wasting your time. There are other priorities for someone in your position.”

Sunghoon’s patience was clearly wearing thin, his jaw tightening as he responded. “You keep saying that. But you’re not listening to me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, low and quiet, as you continued to enjoy the spectacle. The three of them—Sunghoon, his mom, and Jay—bickering like some dysfunctional family sitcom, while you sat back, fully immersed in your gourmet meal.

“This is better than TV,” you muttered to yourself, watching as they tried to one-up each other.

Mrs. Park shot you a death glare, but you just smiled back innocently, because really, what was she going to do? Take your meal away?

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked toward you again, and for a moment, there was a hint of something softer in his expression. Frustration, maybe. Or something that bordered on concern. He opened his mouth to say something, but Jay, finally finding his courage, jumped in again.

“You know,” Jay said, sounding more desperate than threatening, “this would all be easier if we just… moved on. You know?”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. “Easier for who?”

Jay hesitated, clearly realizing he was in over his head. His shoulders slumped, clearly realizing that he wasn’t getting out of this alive—figuratively, at least. His eyes darted back and forth between you and Sunghoon, probably weighing whether it was safer to keep talking or to just bolt. He ended up choosing the safer route: silence.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, was far from done. His gaze sharpened as he turned toward his mother, who was glaring at him with the ferocity only a woman scorned by her own son could muster.

“I’m serious, Mom,” Sunghoon said, voice tense but controlled. “You can’t keep barging into my life like this. It’s not going to work.”

Mrs. Park scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. “I barged into your life? Are you kidding me, Sunghoon? You’re the one who keeps throwing everything away for… for her,” she spat, pointing an accusing finger in your direction.

You almost choked on your food but managed to swallow it down, raising your hands in mock surrender. “Whoa, hey. Don’t drag me into this. I’m just eating.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked back to you for a moment, his expression softening. It was brief, but there was something almost apologetic in his eyes before he looked back at his mother.

“Whatever you think is going on here, it’s not what you think,” Sunghoon said, his voice taut with frustration. “I’m not ‘throwing anything away.’”

Mrs. Park’s jaw tightened, her nostrils flaring as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re wasting your time, Sunghoon. You should be focusing on the company, your future, not this… whatever this is.”

She waved a dismissive hand in your direction, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. You weren’t exactly a fan of being treated like some pesky side project Sunghoon needed to get rid of, but the whole situation was too ridiculous to take seriously.

“So, what,” you said, leaning back in your bed, eyes flicking between the three of them, “You’re all here to—what? Threaten me? Make me back off? Because I gotta be honest, this isn’t working.” You gestured toward Jay, who looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, and Mrs. Park, who was glaring daggers at you.

Sunghoon’s mother took a step forward, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “I’m not here to play games with you, girl. I’m here to ensure my son’s future. You’re nothing but a distraction.”

“Ouch,” you muttered, feigning hurt. “You really know how to make someone feel special.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated with the whole ordeal. “Mom, you’re not helping. Just… stop, okay?”

“Helping?” Mrs. Park echoed incredulously, as though the very idea was laughable. “You think I’m not helping by trying to save your future from her?”

You were starting to get a little irritated, even if the whole situation was more laughable than threatening. “Look, I don’t know what fantasy land you’re living in, but Sunghoon is the one who came to me. Not the other way around. If you’re so worried about his future, maybe start with him.”

Sunghoon gave you a look that said please stop fanning the flames, but you were past caring at this point. You’d had enough of this woman coming into your life and treating you like you were some common gold-digger. She didn’t know the half of it.

His mother, however, seemed immune to reason. She shot her son a glare. “You’re throwing your life away, Sunghoon. I raised you better than this.”

And finally, something in Sunghoon snapped. His usually calm demeanor cracked as he stepped forward, his voice low and sharp. “No, what you did was control my entire life. And guess what? I’m done. I’m not a kid anymore, and I don’t need you micromanaging every decision I make.”

His mother’s eyes widened in shock, clearly not expecting this outburst. Even Jay looked taken aback, his mouth opening slightly in surprise.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back and crossing your arms over your chest. This was getting good.

“Sunghoon—”

“No, Mom. Stop,” Sunghoon cut her off, his voice unwavering. “You’re not doing this because you care about me. You’re doing this because you care about your image. About the company’s image.”

His mother recoiled as though she’d been slapped, her perfectly manicured nails curling into fists at her sides. “How dare you—”

“How dare I?” Sunghoon laughed bitterly. “You’ve been treating me like a business deal my whole life, Mom. This isn’t about me. It’s about you.”

The room fell silent, the tension so thick you could practically feel it pressing down on your chest. Sunghoon’s mother stood frozen in place, her face a mixture of fury and shock.

Jay, sensing the growing hostility, started inching toward the door again, but before he could make his grand escape, Mrs. Park turned to him, her voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “Jay, we’re leaving.”

Jay practically tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to comply. He glanced at you briefly—an apologetic look that almost said sorry for the drama—before scurrying out of the room behind his aunt.

Mrs. Park paused in the doorway, turning to throw one last glare in your direction. “This isn’t over.”

You raised an eyebrow, nonchalantly taking another bite of your meal. “Looking forward to round two.”

She glared, and with a sharp turn, she stormed out, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed through the room, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than the bickering that had just taken place.

For a moment, neither you nor Sunghoon spoke. He stood there, still reeling from the argument, his jaw clenched, shoulders tense. You swallowed the last bite of your meal, wiping your mouth with a napkin as you glanced up at him.

“Well,” you said, breaking the silence with a wry smile, “that was fun.”

Sunghoon didn’t respond at first, his eyes focused on the floor, as if trying to gather his thoughts. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair again. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice low.

You tilted your head, watching him carefully. “For what?”

“For all of… this,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward the door where his mother and cousin had exited. “I didn’t think it would get this bad.”

You shrugged, leaning back against the pillows. “I’m used to it. Your mom’s not exactly my biggest fan.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Sunghoon muttered, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small, humorless smile.

A beat of silence passed between you, the tension slowly dissolving now that the storm had passed. But there was still something unspoken lingering in the air, something that felt heavier than the drama with his mother.

You glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. “So… what now?”

Sunghoon hesitated, his gaze softening as he looked at you. For the first time, there was no sarcasm, no playful banter. Just the weight of everything unsaid between the two of you.

“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice raw. “But I do know one thing.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his tone firm, his eyes locked on yours. “No matter what she says. No matter what anyone says.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the intensity in his voice, but you kept your expression neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “That sounds like a lot of trouble for nothing.”

Sunghoon stood by the edge of your hospital bed, arms crossed over his chest, his tall frame casting a long shadow over the room as the dim light from the ceiling flickered slightly. His gaze was a mix of disbelief and frustration, but there was an edge of something softer, something unreadable, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to laugh or get defensive at your latest jab.

"Anyways, aren't you the heir?" You muttered, the words slipping out casually as you fiddled with the blanket, your tone attempting to sound neutral. But deep down, you knew exactly what you were doing. Trying to reason with Mrs. Park—despite her endless insults—wasn’t out of some newfound respect for her. No, this was a survival tactic. Sunghoon might equal trouble, but his mother? She was the gateway to all those fat cheques. You knew better than to entirely burn that bridge, even if it was hanging by a thread.

Sunghoon raised a brow at you, clearly not expecting the sudden change in direction. "You think she's worried about me?" he scoffed, almost incredulous.

You shrugged nonchalantly, refusing to meet his gaze for too long. "I just think… maybe she's concerned about your future," you muttered, your words laced with an attempt to seem logical, though your true motive lay elsewhere. You tugged the hospital blanket tighter around your legs, which still ached from the accident. A small price to pay for someone like him smashing into you.

He leaned against the wall, his stance casual but his expression anything but. "Future?" Sunghoon repeated, almost bitterly. He huffed before muttering under his breath, "I'm a racer."

You nearly choked on your own breath at that. A racer. The very notion of it was absurd, especially given how he ended up here with you in the hospital in the first place.

"No wonder she's worried." The words slipped out before you could stop them, your voice barely audible, but loud enough for him to catch. You glanced at him through the corner of your eye, noticing how his expression morphed from mild irritation to downright disbelief.

“What do you mean, ‘no wonder she’s worried’?” He demanded, straightening up, arms uncrossing as he took a step closer to you, like you’d just accused him of being some criminal mastermind.

You didn’t even try to stifle the small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. "Come on, Sunghoon. Let’s be real for a second. You're not exactly... the best driver." You gestured lazily towards your leg, which was propped up in a cast. “Even on a motorbike, you managed to get my leg broken.”

He let out a deep sigh, frustration evident in the way he rolled his eyes, muttering, “Shut up,” under his breath, though the edges of his lips twitched upwards for a second. He hated that you had a point. But there was no real venom in his words, just mild annoyance, the kind that came from knowing someone had you cornered.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze drifting from you to the small bouquet of flowers on the side table, then back to you. His posture screamed discomfort, as if he wasn’t used to being in such close proximity to his own vulnerability. After a long pause, he finally asked the question you’d been dodging for a while now, his voice dipping into something almost concerned. “But why were you drunk, though? I mean, they found alcohol in your tests that day."

Your breath hitched for a moment, but you quickly waved it off, eyes flicking away to avoid his gaze. "I just had a bad day, okay?" The words came out a little too quickly, a little too defensive, and you knew it wasn’t the full story. But the last thing you wanted was to dive into your own mess, especially not with him.

Sunghoon didn’t push further, his gaze softening slightly, but he wasn't one to leave a conversation dangling for too long. “Why were you speeding, though?” You shot back, raising an eyebrow in return. If he was going to dig into your mess, you had every right to poke at his.

The corner of his mouth twitched nervously as he chuckled, his usual bravado faltering for a split second. You knew something was up. Sunghoon never got nervous. Not like this.

"Well..." he started, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, his eyes darting away from you, unable to maintain eye contact for too long.

“Well?" You pressed, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for whatever ridiculous excuse he had to offer.

Sunghoon let out a small, almost embarrassed laugh. "My dad saw me riding," he muttered. "So I was kinda in a hurry."

For a second, you just stared at him, blinking in disbelief. "That’s it?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief. "Your dad saw you riding, and that made you speed? You didn't even bother to stop when you crashed into me?”

He fidgeted slightly, clearly uncomfortable under your scrutinizing gaze, but he shrugged helplessly. "I didn’t see you, okay? I was too busy trying to avoid him."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes, sinking back into your pillows with a sigh. “That's it? And here I thought you were doing drug deals or something.”

The sarcasm in your voice was unmistakable, though you couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous this whole situation had turned out to be. For someone who was supposedly the heir to a powerful corporation, Sunghoon had a way of complicating the most straightforward situations.

He blinked at you in disbelief, the tips of his ears turning red. "What? Drug dealing? Really?" he muttered, crossing his arms again as he leaned against the bed frame, clearly not impressed by your comment. But his reaction only made you grin wider.

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips. “I mean, with how secretive you’ve been acting, who could blame me for assuming the worst?”

Sunghoon huffed, shaking his head in mild exasperation, though the ghost of a smile lingered on his face. "Trust me, my life is complicated enough without any of that.”

“Complicated, huh?” you echoed, your gaze drifting toward him. His posture had relaxed slightly, but there was still an air of frustration hanging between the two of you. You could tell there was more to the story, more that he wasn’t saying.

But you weren’t one to push, not when you had your own secrets buried deep.

You let the conversation die down after that, the room filled with a quiet sort of tension that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable. Sunghoon stayed by your side, despite everything, leaning against the frame of your bed as his eyes softened, watching you finish your meal with quiet focus. And for a moment, the tension between you eased, like the storm had passed, leaving behind a fragile calm.

But even in the silence, you couldn’t help but notice the small gestures—the way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the bedpost, the way his gaze lingered a little too long on you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. There was something between you two, a line that neither of you wanted to cross, yet both kept flirting with.

And for the first time, the thought of it didn't scare you.

THE NEXT MORNING,

Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the sterile white walls of the hospital room. The monotonous hum of the machines, the occasional beep from the heart monitor, and the muted footsteps of nurses outside became the background symphony of your stay. You blinked your eyes open slowly, your body stiff from yet another restless night, and as your vision adjusted, the familiar dull ache in your leg grounded you back into the reality you’d been living for the past few days.

BUT TODAY, SOMETHING WAS DIFFERENT.

As you shifted slightly, careful not to agitate the cast on your leg, your gaze fell to the chair beside your bed. There he was—Park Sunghoon, slouched in the chair with his head resting against the armrest, his mouth slightly parted as soft, steady breaths escaped his lips. His long legs were sprawled out in front of him, one arm draped lazily across his stomach while the other rested close to yours, mere inches from the side of your bed. The sight was enough to make your breath hitch.

He’d stayed. Again.

For days, he had made this hospital room his second home, despite the biting remarks and the cold distance that had defined your relationship thus far. As if it was some kind of duty he couldn’t escape, some obligation he had to fulfill for the sake of his reputation or his family. At least, that’s what you convinced yourself. There’s no way he actually cares.

Still, you couldn’t help but wonder, especially in moments like this, when his face was stripped of its usual bravado, his guard completely down. He looked… peaceful. Innocent, even.

“If I didn’t know you were doing this for your reputation,” you murmured softly, barely above a whisper, “I would’ve thought you loved me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and laced with something unspoken, something you weren’t quite ready to confront. You didn’t mean for him to hear it—he was asleep, after all—but there was a strange comfort in voicing the thought aloud, even if only to yourself.

You found yourself leaning a little closer, the distance between your bed and the chair barely enough to separate you two. Your fingers moved almost of their own accord, hesitating at first, before gently tracing the sharp line of his jaw. His skin was warm under your touch, soft despite the cold exterior he often portrayed. Your heart gave a nervous flutter as your finger ghosted over the delicate curve of his cheek, down to the bridge of his nose, and finally stopping at his lips.

Your breath caught as you stared at them—soft, slightly parted, and so close. There was something about this moment that felt dangerously intimate, a line you weren’t sure you should be crossing. But before you could pull away, his fingers wrapped around your wrist, warm and firm, halting your retreat.

Your heart stilled, the world suddenly reduced to the quiet space between the two of you. Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open slowly, his lashes casting faint shadows across his cheeks. He blinked once, twice, before his sleepy gaze focused on you, still hazy with the remnants of sleep. His grip on your wrist tightened ever so slightly, but not enough to hurt—just enough to keep you from escaping.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and raspy from sleep, the kind of voice that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with confusion but also curiosity, as if he wasn’t entirely sure whether to be offended or amused.

Your mind scrambled for an explanation, anything to diffuse the tension suddenly filling the room. "There was a mosquito," you blurted out, your voice barely steady, attempting to sound casual as you tugged on your wrist, but he didn’t let go.

His brow arched in suspicion, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "A mosquito… on my lips?” he questioned, the incredulity in his tone barely masked by amusement. He pushed himself up from the chair, his hand still holding yours, and in a fluid motion, he was leaning over the side of the bed, closer—much closer—than he had any right to be.

The proximity was suffocating. You could feel his breath fan across your face, warm and steady, each exhale sending a fresh wave of heat across your skin. His dark eyes, still half-lidded with sleep, were locked onto yours, and for a split second, you forgot how to breathe. The space between you was so small, so intimate, you could practically hear the rapid beat of your own heart pounding in your ears.

Your face flushed crimson, the heat crawling up your neck as if you’d been caught doing something far worse than tracing his face. You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body suddenly on high alert, every muscle tensing under his intense gaze. "There… was something in my eye," you stammered, quickly averting your gaze as you finally pulled your hand away from his grip, your fingers trembling slightly as they found refuge behind your palms. You could feel the burn of embarrassment creeping up, your hands covering your face as if that could somehow hide the fact that you were blushing furiously.

Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed by your flustered state. He stood there for a moment longer, watching you with a mix of amusement and something deeper, something unreadable. He straightened up, stretching his arms above his head lazily, as if the moment that just passed was nothing more than a casual conversation.

But you knew better. There was something unspoken between you two, something that neither of you were ready to admit, but it lingered in the air, thick and undeniable.

"Something in your eye, huh?" he murmured, a teasing lilt to his voice as he glanced down at you, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your forehead with a casual familiarity that sent another wave of heat rushing to your cheeks.

You peeked through your fingers, still hiding most of your face as you mumbled, "Shut up."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and warm, and for a moment, the tension in the air eased, replaced by something lighter, something teasing but… comfortable.

But even as he turned away, walking towards the window to stretch his legs, the ghost of his touch still lingered on your skin, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—there was more to Sunghoon’s presence by your side than just reputation.

The clock on the wall ticked steadily as the midday sun spilled golden light into the hospital room, brightening the sterile white space that had become your temporary home. You sat on the edge of the bed, the nurse’s soft, encouraging voice still echoing in your ears after she had just removed your cast. The air felt electric with anticipation; you could finally walk again!

Sunghoon hovered by your side, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied you. “Are you ready for this?” he asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, but the seriousness behind it was unmistakable. You nodded enthusiastically, your heart racing with excitement. It felt like a monumental moment—like the first step of many to reclaiming your independence.

With the adrenaline coursing through you, you stood up, a determined grin stretching across your face. But as you took your first step, everything shifted dramatically. Your foot wobbled, and before you knew it, you were tumbling forward, hitting the floor with a thud that echoed around the room.

“Ugh!” you groaned, your cheeks burning with embarrassment as you lay there, staring up at the fluorescent lights.

Sunghoon rushed forward, worry etched across his features, but before he could say anything, Wonyoung and Hanni burst into laughter, their giggles ringing like chimes through the room.

“Oh my god! Did you really just fall?” Hanni wheezed, nearly doubling over as she struggled to regain her composure.

“Looks like someone needs a little more practice!” Wonyoung added, her laughter infectious as she bent down to help you up, her hands extending towards you.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little at yourself as they pulled you back to your feet. “Thanks, guys,” you mumbled, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

As they waved goodbye, still chuckling, Sunghoon remained behind, a bemused expression on his face. “That was quite the entrance,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall, a playful glint in his eye.

“Shut up,” you retorted, trying to brush off your embarrassment as you plopped back onto the bed, sulking a little. “I’m still getting used to this.”

“Come on, you can’t let a little tumble discourage you!” Sunghoon grinned, stepping closer with a theatrical flourish. “I, Park Sunghoon, will be your walking coach! Let’s do this!” He mimicked a sports announcer, waving his arms as if hyping up a crowd. “And by the end of this session, you will be the champion of walking!”

You rolled your eyes, suppressing a smile. “I don’t need a coach. I just need to not fall again.”

“Too late for that! You’ve already set the bar pretty low,” he teased, a playful smirk dancing across his lips. He leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But don’t worry; I’ll help you reach new heights, or at least keep you from faceplanting again.”

With that, he extended his hand towards you, a gesture of encouragement. You hesitated for a moment, your heart fluttering as you met his gaze, but the absurdity of the situation was too much to resist. Taking a deep breath, you grasped his hand, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

“Okay, Mr. Walking Coach. Show me the way,” you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

He positioned himself next to you, his grip firm yet gentle. “First lesson: Keep your center of gravity low. Think like a ninja! Light on your feet!”

You couldn’t help but snort at his ridiculousness, the tension of your earlier fall dissipating as you stood next to him. “Ninja? Really? You think I’m going to be stealthy when I can barely stand?”

“Exactly! You’re going to be a stealthy ninja who, like a graceful gazelle, glides across the floor!” he exclaimed, his arms gesturing dramatically as he took a step back to give you space.

With his comedic antics distracting you from your nerves, you took a tentative step forward, wobbling a bit but managing to keep your balance. “See? Look at me! I’m practically a gazelle!” you proclaimed with mock bravado, your voice tinged with sarcasm.

“Gorgeous! Absolutely majestic!” Sunghoon exclaimed, feigning applause as you took another step. “But you know, a gazelle might want to avoid falling on its face. You should really work on that.”

You shot him a glare, but a smile broke through your facade. “You’re such an idiot.”

“That’s why I’m here!” he laughed, inching closer again, still holding your hand to steady you. “Now, let’s go for round two. This time, no falling!”

With a deep breath, you focused on your balance, your heart racing not just from the thrill of standing but from the way his warm hand felt enveloping yours. You took another step, then another, Sunghoon’s encouraging words ringing in your ears, his steady presence anchoring you.

But with every shaky movement, reality set in. You were acutely aware of the gulf between the two of you—the wealth and expectations that surrounded his life, the disparity that loomed like a shadow over this moment of laughter and lightness. He was an heir, bound for greatness, while you felt like a mere accident in his world.

“Just a few more steps,” he encouraged, a slight frown creasing his forehead as he sensed your hesitation. “You’re doing great!”

With his support, you managed to make a few shaky strides, laughter bubbling up with each unsteady movement. “Maybe I’ll actually be able to walk out of here after all,” you joked, feeling lighter with each step.

“See? I told you! You’re going to be my ninja walking prodigy!” he laughed, his eyes bright with excitement.

But as the moment drew on, a bittersweet realization sank in. Once you were well enough to leave, his part in your story would fade into the background like a forgotten dream. You could already picture it—a world where he resumed his life, his responsibilities, leaving you behind like a chapter closed.

Yet here you were, the two of you intertwined in this moment, laughing and learning how to walk again, and for a fleeting second, you wished it could last just a little bit longer.

THE DAY HAD FINALLY COME,

THE ONE YOU DREADED MORE THAN ANYTHING.

Weeks had passed, and despite all the mental notes you made to remind yourself that this was temporary, you couldn’t shake the attachment you’d developed to Sunghoon. Maybe it was the routine, maybe it was the fact that he had been there every step of the way while you healed, or maybe, it was something else entirely—something more dangerous.

You watched from a distance as Sunghoon handled your final hospital bill. The cold sterility of the hospital didn’t bother you as much as the thought of walking out of it without him by your side. He paid the fees like he had promised from the start, his sleek credit card effortlessly handling the expenses that you knew would have financially crippled you otherwise.

You tried to convince yourself that this attachment, this gnawing feeling of loss before he even left, was simply because you had spent too much time with him. After all, you practically lived together for months. But even telling yourself that over and over again didn’t stop the sting behind your eyes, the prickling of tears that threatened to spill.

You took a deep breath and wiped them away quickly, just as you saw him walking towards you, his tall figure cutting through the hospital corridor with ease. His face was calm as usual, though his eyes held a quietness that made your chest tighten. You forced a smile, the same one you always gave him, but this time, it carried a weight of sadness you couldn’t shake.

At least Mrs. Park wasn’t here. You couldn’t imagine how much worse you’d feel with her scrutinizing every little move, every interaction, like she was tallying it up in some invisible ledger. But in this quiet space, where it was just you and Sunghoon, you started to believe that maybe… just maybe, he was worth more than the money she flaunted, more than the reputation you helped him protect.

He smiled back at you, but even that felt distant, as if the finality of this moment weighed on him too. His hand rested casually on your shoulder, the same way it had for the past few weeks, a gesture of familiarity that was once just for show in front of others, but now… now it felt different.

As you walked out of the hospital together, the flashing of cameras and the swarm of paparazzi waiting outside hit you like a tidal wave. They were here, of course they were. The media had been all over this—your fake relationship, the story of his girlfriend who nursed him back to health after an accident. None of them knew the truth. None of them knew that the only reason you were here was because of a fractured leg caused by that same accident. It had all been to protect him from public backlash, to clean up his image, to shield him from the criticism that would have followed.

But now, as his hand lingered on your shoulder longer than necessary, as he guided you through the crowd, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t fake at all. Not anymore.

The car ride back was filled with a silence that felt almost suffocating. You stared out of the window, watching the city blur by, your heart heavy with the realization that this was it. Your leg had healed, the bills were paid, and now Sunghoon was going to disappear from your life just as quickly as he had entered it.

You sighed, the sadness in your chest growing. This was it. The end of whatever this was, of whatever you had convinced yourself wasn’t real.

The car came to a stop at a quiet street, far from the prying eyes of the paparazzi. It wasn’t your home, not really—just the rented apartment you could barely afford. But it was where you were headed, and it was the place where Sunghoon would say goodbye.

You couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped your lips, filled with an aching sadness that even you couldn’t fully comprehend. It felt almost comedic, like the setup for some bad joke. The rich boy, the poor girl, the fake relationship—they always ended like this, right?

“You seem to not enjoy getting better,” Sunghoon’s voice broke the silence, his words light, almost teasing, but you could hear the undercurrent of something more.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, not even bothering to hide your emotions anymore. What was the point? “How could I enjoy it when it meant you would go away?” The words slipped out, raw and unfiltered, before you had a chance to stop them.

He didn’t respond right away. Instead, his hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening as he pulled the car over to the side of the road. The soft hum of the engine faded into the background as he turned to face you, his expression unreadable. His eyes searched yours, as if trying to understand the weight of your words.

And then, in one swift movement, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ll always be there,” he whispered, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “Wherever you are, in bad shape or sick, I’ll be there.”

“Why?” You barely recognized your own voice, so soft, so vulnerable, as if you were afraid of the answer.

His lips were so close now, his breath fanning across your skin, the space between you shrinking to almost nothing. He paused, giving you a chance to pull away, but when you didn’t, when you stayed frozen in place, his lips brushed against yours. It was barely a kiss, just the softest touch, like a promise not yet fully spoken.

He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Even when you get sick, I’ll be there. Waiting for you… to get well soon.”

His words were like a balm to your aching heart, but also a dagger to the fear you’d been holding inside. You felt a wave of emotions crash over you—relief, confusion, frustration, but above all, hope.

And just like that, everything between you shifted.

© senascoop | tumblr

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ THEY DON’T KNOW ABOUT US

❛ 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘴. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 '𝘦𝘮, 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪-𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦-𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘫𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴. 𝘵����𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘱-𝘢𝘭𝘭-𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺— 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘴. ❜

timeline: 2024

synopsis: When their five-year secret relationship is exposed, Luna and Jeonghan navigate the chaos of public scrutiny, media frenzy, and agency interference— only to prove that no one really knows them except the people who truly matter.

warnings: angst, angst, angst, cursing, crying, anxiety, detailed description of panic attack, arguments, Dispatch’s bitchass, established relationship, hate comments, haters with no lives whatsoever, slut shaming, detailed description of hate comments, media, mentions of enlistment, Bae Jiyeon and Yoon Jeonghan are about to end lives, ends with fluff, they are so in love it hurts

bringing back the angst with a sprinkle of fluff for you, my lovelies 🤭 this will focus on JeongNa’s last date before Han’s enlistment and then being exposed + their reactions. btw, i pissed myself off writing this 😀 anyway! enjoy, my loves 💕

i have posted the articles confirming their relationship a few months ago, so go check them out if you haven’t already— 240924: AllKpop Article & 240925: Soompi Article + fan reaction tweets— AllKpop & Soompi Article Reaction + Luna’s ig post response— 240925: Blue

also, this— “what if I roll the stone away? they're gonna crucify me anyway. what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? if long suffering propriety is what they want from me, they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly. i choose you and me… religiously.” (try to find the reference in the story 🤭)

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

They don’t know about us.

That’s what Luna and Jeonghan thought when they first started their relationship.

It was long overdue— the tension, the lingering glances that lasted a beat too long, the unspoken words hanging in the air, waiting to be acknowledged. The drama of it all, the drunken confessions, the rejection, the stolen moments that meant more than they let on— it had been building for so long that when it finally happened, it felt inevitable.

Natural.

Like breathing.

So, when they finally crossed that line, when Jeonghan kissed her for the first time and Luna didn’t pull away, when their hands found each other’s in the dark and refused to let go— it was everything they had imagined and more.

And naturally, they fell into the honeymoon phase.

A world of their own, untouched by anyone else.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust their members or their families— it was just that, for once, they wanted something that was only theirs.

Something that didn’t have to be shared, explained, or justified.

It was thrilling, this secret, knowing that when the cameras turned off and the doors closed, they were no longer just Jeonghan and Luna, best friends, members of the same team— they were them.

Something more, something sacred.

For months, they relished in the privacy of their love. Whispered conversations at odd hours, secret smiles across crowded rooms, hands brushing under tables where no one could see.

And they were so careful.

At least, until their parents found out.

It had only been a few months, but it turned out keeping a secret from their parents was a whole different game. Their families had always been close— closer than the other members’ families— and as it turned out, parents knew their children.

Maybe it was the way Jeonghan’s mother caught him checking his phone with a smile too soft to be casual, or how Luna’s father noticed her humming love songs under her breath, looking far too dreamy. Maybe it was the way they unconsciously gravitated toward each other during family gatherings, how they were never too far apart, how their conversations had an ease that went beyond simple friendship.

They didn’t say anything outright at first. But the knowing looks, the teasing comments, the gentle nudges— it was all calculated.

Until one day, both Jeonghan and Luna were cornered separately and gently interrogated.

They could have lied.

They could have denied it.

But parents knew.

So with a sigh, they admitted it.

And with that, their secret was no longer theirs alone.

That’s how their parents found out about their relationship.

They don’t know about us.

That’s what Jeonghan and Luna thought as they sat back, watching their members, keeping their secret from them for just a little while longer.

It wasn’t that they didn’t trust them. It wasn’t that they were afraid of what they would think.

It was just that they weren’t ready.

The longer they kept it to themselves, the longer they could preserve the magic of it being just theirs.

One whole year.

That was how long they managed to keep it hidden from their members.

An entire year of stolen moments and careful maneuvering, of sneaking off after practice and pretending they were just best friends in front of the others.

An entire year of their own little world, untouched.

And it worked.

Until it didn’t.

They were so careful.

But one night, they got too comfortable.

It was late, they were alone— at least, that’s what they thought. The practice room was empty, the lights dimmed, and they were tired, bodies pressed close, lips moving together like they had all the time in the world.

And then the door opened.

And twelve pairs of eyes stared.

And that was that.

That’s how the rest of the members found out about their relationship.

They don’t know about us.

That’s what Luna and Jeonghan thought as they continued their relationship for five more years, keeping it a secret from everyone else— everyone except their families and their members.

Calculated. Careful. Strategic.

They made sure of it.

But secrecy didn’t mean distance.

They never shied away from expressing their feelings in public or on camera.

The glances, the praises, the little touches that meant everything— they were obvious.

Too obvious.

But that was the trick, wasn’t it? To make it so obvious that no one actually believed it.

Best friends.

Soulmates.

That’s what the fans and the public called them.

Because it was unrealistic, right? That they would actually be together?

And that was the goal.

Until one night, both Jeonghan and Luna let their guard down too early.

And suddenly, they weren’t just best friends anymore.

They were a headline.

It started two days ago.

Two days.

That was all the time they had left before Jeonghan was set to enlist.

Luna and Jeonghan had always known this moment was inevitable. The topic of his enlistment had lingered between them for years, a shadow they had learned to live with, a reality they had come to accept. It wasn’t something they could ignore, not when time kept moving forward, not when Jeonghan’s departure was written in stone long before they had even fallen in love.

They had talked about it thoroughly, the weight of it heavy but never unbearable. There had been tears— mostly on Luna’s part, silent and bittersweet— but in the end, they made peace with it.

Jeonghan wasn’t leaving forever.

He wasn’t even leaving for long.

Because of his previous elbow and ankle injuries, he wasn’t serving in active duty. Instead, he would be doing alternative military service, social work that allowed him to return home every night.

The only time he would truly be away from her was during his initial two weeks of basic training.

And then, he’d be back.

Back to her, back to them, back to everything they had built together.

To them, that was more than enough.

But even with that knowledge, even with the comfort of knowing he would come home to her every night, time felt more precious than ever.

In the months leading up to his enlistment, Jeonghan and Luna had become inseparable— even more so than usual, and that was saying something.

The members noticed it immediately, but none of them said anything. They let them be, let them cling to each other as if time would slow down if they just held on tight enough.

And after Berlin— after the night he slipped a ring onto her finger, after she whispered yes into his kiss— Jeonghan’s attachment to Luna only intensified.

They had always been touchy, always drawn to each other like gravity itself pulled them together.

But after getting engaged, it was different.

Jeonghan barely let her out of his sight. If he wasn’t holding her hand, he had an arm around her waist. If she wasn’t sitting beside him, he’d pull her onto his lap. If they weren’t in the same room, he’d be texting or calling her, asking when she’d be back.

And Luna was no better.

She soaked up every second with him like she was trying to memorize the way he fit into her life, the way he felt pressed against her side, the way he murmured her name like it was the only word that mattered.

Whenever they could, they went on dates— lazy mornings spent wrapped up in each other, quiet evenings cooking together, late-night drives through the city, shopping trips where Jeonghan insisted on buying her everything she even glanced at.

Every moment mattered.

Which was how they found themselves here— two days before Jeonghan was set to enlist— wandering through a quiet park hand in hand, long past midnight, with only the streetlights and the faint rustling of leaves as their company.

The closer the day got, the more desperate they became.

For more time. For more memories. For each other.

So when Jeonghan had asked her, “Wanna go for a walk with me?” there had been no hesitation. No questions.

She had just nodded, slipping her hand into his.

And their desperation for more time made them reckless.

They hadn’t bothered with hats or face masks, hadn’t hidden behind sunglasses or scarves. There was no disguise, no attempt to shield themselves from the world.

They walked through the park as they were— hand in hand, smiles soft, laughter echoing in the quiet night.

Their fans had seen them like this before, after all.

“Friendly dates,” the internet called them.

Best friends, soulmates, nothing more, nothing less.

Holding hands, hugging, clinging to each other like their lives depended on it— none of it was new.

This wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

Right?

Wrong.

They very were wrong.

They had thought this night would be like all the others. Another quiet moment stolen from the rest of the world, tucked away in the familiarity of each other. Another walk under the moonlight, just the two of them, wrapped up in the comfort of knowing that no matter what happened, no matter where life took them, they would always find their way back to each other.

But they were wrong.

The park was empty, the air crisp with the lingering chill of fall. The only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the breeze, the distant hum of the city beyond the trees, and the soft rhythm of their footsteps against the pavement.

Luna and Jeonghan walked hand in hand, their fingers intertwined, swaying their arms gently up and down like children playing as they strolled without a destination.

It was peaceful. It was quiet. It was them.

“Remember the first time we did this?” Luna mused, her voice just above a whisper, as if she was afraid speaking too loudly would break the moment.

Jeonghan hummed, tilting his head slightly in thought. “Which one? We do this a lot.”

Luna rolled her eyes, nudging him playfully. “The very first time. Back when we weren’t even dating yet.”

A lazy grin tugged at his lips as the memory resurfaced. “Ah… that one. You mean the time we got caught in the rain, and you whined about your shoes getting soaked the whole way back?”

“I was wearing suede boots, Han,” she huffed, but there was no real annoyance behind her words.

He chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. And I was the one who gave you my hoodie so you wouldn’t complain the whole night.”

“You offered it to me,” she corrected.

“Because you wouldn’t stop pouting.”

She let out a small scoff but didn’t argue further, instead squeezing his hand in silent amusement.

They walked in silence for a while, the rhythm of their footsteps in sync, their hands warm against the night air. It was moments like these— simple, unhurried, effortless— that made it hard to believe time was slipping through their fingers.

Luna exhaled softly, glancing up at the sky. “It’s funny,” she murmured.

Jeonghan glanced at her. “What is?”

“How… nothing really changes, but at the same time, everything does.”

He hummed again, as if considering her words. “That’s life, isn’t it?”

She nodded slowly. “It just… doesn’t feel real sometimes. That we’ve been together this long. That we’ve managed to keep it ours for this long.”

Jeonghan smiled, bringing their joined hands up to press a lingering kiss to the back of hers. “It’s real.”

Luna turned to him, her gaze soft, her eyes tracing the familiar lines of his face. “I know,” she whispered.

There was another stretch of silence, comfortable and full, before Jeonghan sighed, nudging her toward a bench nestled under the soft glow of a streetlamp. “Come here,” he murmured, tugging her down beside him.

Luna went willingly, shifting so she could wrap her arms around his torso, pressing herself against his side. Jeonghan draped his arm over her shoulders with practiced ease, his fingers slipping into her hair as he gently guided her head onto his shoulder.

She let out a quiet sigh as he pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head.

For a while, they just sat there, wrapped up in each other, listening to the distant sounds of the city beyond their little world.

“I’m gonna miss this,” Luna admitted after a moment.

Jeonghan’s hold on her tightened slightly. “I’ll still be here, my moon.”

She closed her eyes. “I know. But it’ll be different.”

“It won’t be forever.”

Luna let out a breath of laughter. “I hate that you’re always right.”

Jeonghan chuckled, pressing another kiss into her hair. “You love that I’m always right.”

She tilted her head up to glance at him, lips curling in a small smirk. “Debatable.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Instead, he rested his chin atop her head, his fingers lazily playing with the ends of her hair.

After a beat, he spoke again, voice softer this time. “I’m gonna miss this, too.”

Luna swallowed. “Yeah?”

He hummed. “You. Us. Coming home and seeing you there. Falling asleep next to you.” He paused. “Waking up next to you.”

Luna bit her lip, tightening her hold on him.

Jeonghan sighed. “I don’t want you to feel sad while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Promise me?”

She turned her head just enough to press a small kiss against his collarbone. “I promise.”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, his grip on her never loosening, as if he was afraid that if he did, she would slip away.

Luna closed her eyes, willing the sting behind her eyelids to fade before the tears could fall.

She promised herself she wouldn’t cry. She promised him she wouldn’t be sad. She didn’t want Jeonghan to see her cry, not when he had enough on his plate already, not when this was inevitable— something they both knew was coming for years now.

It’s only two weeks.

It’s only two weeks.

It’s only two weeks.

She repeated it in her head like a mantra, as if saying it enough times would make it feel true, would make the ache in her chest subside.

Two weeks of basic training, then he would be back, working an office job, coming home to her every night. It was nothing compared to what others had to endure, nothing compared to what it could have been.

And yet…

Two weeks.

They had never been apart for that long.

Not once.

Not ever.

Since the moment they met as teenagers, since the day Jeonghan waltzed into her life with that lazy smile and sharp wit, since the first time she rolled her eyes at him only for him to make her laugh a second later, they had never spent more than a few days apart.

Even when schedules were hectic, even when they were on different sides of the world, they always found a way back to each other— calls, texts, midnight flights, anything to close the distance.

But this time, there was no way around it.

This time, it was real.

Jeonghan, ever attuned to her, read her silence as easily as he read his own thoughts. Without a word, he lifted their joined hands, brushing his lips against the back of hers, pressing a lingering kiss there before turning his attention to her fingers, kissing each one, soft and slow, as if he was trying to soothe away the thoughts swirling in her head.

Luna sniffled, blinking up at him, and Jeonghan smiled, his usual playful lilt slipping back into his voice as he spoke.

“You know,” he mused, pressing one last kiss to her knuckle, “this is starting to feel like one of those tragic romance dramas you love watching.”

Luna scoffed, but the sound was weak, breathless. “Oh, shut up.”

“I’m serious.” He grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “You, the heartbroken heroine, left behind as her lover bravely marches off to his destiny.” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning sorrow. “You’ll wait for me, won’t you, my baby?”

She rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly. “You’re so dramatic.”

Jeonghan gasped, placing a hand over his heart. “Me? Dramatic?”

“Yes, you.”

“Jiyeonie, sweetheart, my moon, my pretty angel, my baby,” he drawled, shaking his head. “I wish I could say I’m offended, but honestly, I’m just proud of you for finally learning how to lie.”

She let out a small, breathy laugh, the tightness in her chest easing just a little.

Jeonghan beamed, clearly pleased with himself. “There it is. That’s the smile I love.”

Luna exhaled, shaking her head as she leaned into him, her voice softer this time. “You really can’t let me have my moment for a second, can you?”

“Nope.” Jeonghan tilted his head, pressing a quick kiss to her temple. “Not when I know you’ll overthink yourself into a spiral the second I let you.”

Luna pursed her lips, knowing he was right but refusing to admit it. “I just…” She sighed, her fingers curling slightly against his chest. “I don’t want to miss you.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened. “I know, baby.”

“It’s stupid,” she muttered. “Two weeks isn’t even that long.”

“It’s not stupid,” he said gently. “You’re allowed to miss me.”

She huffed. “You want me to miss you.”

Jeonghan smirked. “Well, yeah. A little ego boost never hurt anyone.”

Luna rolled her eyes again, but this time, she smiled. “Unbelievable.”

He squeezed her waist, bringing her closer. “Come on, it’s not that bad. Think about it this way: two weeks without me means two weeks of extra sleep. No one to steal the blankets, no one to wake you up in the middle of the night just because I’m bored—”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” she interrupted.

Jeonghan grinned, his thumb tracing slow circles against her hip. “Admit it. You love when I wake you up.”

Luna scoffed. “I love my sleep more.”

He gasped, placing a hand over his chest again. “Wow. So heartless.”

She bit her lip, trying to hold back her smile. “I’m just being honest.”

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes playfully. “Fine. Then I take back all those times I made you breakfast in bed.”

Luna arched a brow. “Breakfast? You mean the half-burnt toast and instant coffee?”

“Handcrafted with love, love of my life,” he corrected.

She laughed, shaking her head. “If that’s what you call ‘handcrafted,’ I think I’ll survive two weeks without it.”

Jeonghan let out an exaggerated sigh. “My own fiancée… betraying me like this.”

Luna grinned, shifting so she could press a soft kiss against his jaw. “You’ll live.”

He hummed, his hold on her tightening ever so slightly. “Yeah, but I’d rather live with you.”

Luna’s breath hitched, the weight of his words sinking in. She pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her fingers brushing against his cheek.

“Then come home soon,” she whispered.

Jeonghan smiled, leaning in to kiss her— soft, slow, lingering. “I will, for you.”

Luna lifted her head, her gaze locking onto Jeonghan’s as the corners of her lips twitched in amusement.

“Yeah?” she murmured, her voice teasing yet quiet, barely more than a breath between them.

Jeonghan’s lips curled into a smirk, his own voice dropping into a whisper. “Yeah.”

Her eyes flickered between his, studying the depth of his stare, the way he was looking at her— like she was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“Really?” she teased, her nose barely brushing against his as she tilted her head slightly.

“Really,” Jeonghan confirmed, his smirk widening as he rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, the gentle eskimo kiss making Luna giggle softly, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment at the affection.

Jeonghan stilled, watching her— memorizing her.

The way her nose scrunched just slightly as she giggled, the way her lips curved, the way her laughter melted into a small, content sigh.

He wanted to keep this moment, trap it in time so he could play it back again and again.

Then, with a quiet exhale, he leaned in.

The first kiss was barely a brush of lips, a fleeting peck— a soft introduction, like the whisper of a promise.

Then another.

And another.

Each peck slow and deliberate, as if they had all the time in the world.

But they didn’t.

That realization hit Jeonghan all at once, settling deep in his chest like a weight. They didn’t have all the time in the world. They barely had two days.

And just like that, his patience slipped away.

Jeonghan deepened the kiss, his lips pressing more firmly against hers, his hand coming up to cup her jaw, thumb stroking against her cheek as he tilted her head back slightly. Luna let him, exhaling softly through her nose as she melted against him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie.

The movement of their lips was slow but intentional, like they were savoring the feeling— like they were trying to etch the sensation into memory.

Jeonghan took his time, kissing her deeply, his lips warm and soft against hers, a quiet hum vibrating in his throat as he felt Luna respond, matching his movements with ease, with familiarity, with the same silent understanding that had always existed between them.

And then, like a dam breaking, the kiss shifted.

Luna felt the moment Jeonghan’s restraint wavered, felt the way his fingers gripped her just a bit tighter, the way his lips moved with more urgency, the way his breath hitched between kisses. The change was subtle at first, a slow descent into something deeper, something desperate— until suddenly, there was no space between them, no hesitation.

His other hand found her waist, pulling her closer, and Luna let out a quiet, breathy sound as she tilted her head further, allowing him to take full control. Jeonghan took advantage of it immediately, his lips parting against hers as his fingers traced down the side of her neck, slow and deliberate, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

She tasted like peppermint and something unmistakably sweet— something unmistakably Luna, a taste he could never quite describe but knew he would never forget. He sighed into her mouth, taking his time to memorize it, to let it brand itself into his senses.

Luna kissed him back just as fervently, her hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, nails grazing against his scalp as she pulled him impossibly closer. The sensation sent a shiver down Jeonghan’s spine, his fingers twitching against her waist before gripping just a little tighter.

Time didn’t exist.

Nothing else existed.

It was just them.

Kissing like the world was going to take it all away.

And maybe, in a way, it was.

The desperation grew, their lips moving in perfect sync, breath mingling between soft sighs and quiet hums, until suddenly—

Jeonghan pulled away.

Luna barely processed it before she was chasing after him, lips parting as she tried to close the distance again, refusing to let the moment slip away so soon.

A deep chuckle rumbled in Jeonghan’s throat, the sound low and knowing as he indulged her immediately, meeting her halfway as he captured her lips again, softer this time— less desperate, more lingering.

A few more kisses followed, slow and sweet, until finally, they both pulled away for real, their foreheads resting together as their breaths intermingled.

Neither spoke for a moment, simply basking in the warmth of each other, the quiet hum of the night around them.

Then, finally, Jeonghan smiled, breathless and dazed.

“Damn,” he murmured, voice low and teasing, “I was going to say something, but now I’ve completely forgotten what it was.”

Luna exhaled a soft laugh, her fingers still playing with the strands of his hair as she whispered, “Was it important?”

Jeonghan hummed, pretending to think for a moment before smirking. “Not as important as this.”

Luna grinned, rolling her eyes. “Cheesy.”

“Admit it, Nana-ya,” he murmured, pressing another kiss— just a light peck this time— against her lips. “You love it.”

She sighed dramatically. “Unfortunately.”

Jeonghan chuckled, wrapping his arms around her as he nuzzled his nose against hers once more. “Good. Because I’m not planning on stopping anytime soon.”

Jeonghan breathed out, his gaze locked onto hers, filled with nothing but warmth and devotion. “I love you, my pretty moon,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, yet carrying the weight of every moment they had shared.

Luna’s lips curled into a soft smile as she reached up to cradle his face, her thumb tracing gentle circles against his skin. “I love you too,” she whispered back, her words laced with the same tenderness that had always existed between them.

The night stretched on, the moon casting a soft, silver glow over the park, illuminating the quiet sanctuary where Jeonghan and Luna sat curled up together on the weathered wooden bench.

The world around them had long faded into the background, leaving just the two of them in their own little bubble, a space where time seemed to slow and everything outside of them ceased to exist.

Jeonghan’s arms remained lazily draped around her, fingers tracing mindless patterns along her shoulder, while Luna tucked herself into his side, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. It was a sound she knew by heart, one that had always comforted her— always reminded her that he was there.

Neither of them spoke for a while, but words weren’t necessary. They had spent years learning each other’s silences, understanding the weight of every quiet moment, every sigh, every unspoken thought. And tonight, their silence spoke volumes.

Jeonghan shifted slightly, tilting his head to press another kiss against the crown of her head before resting his chin there. His fingers slipped down to intertwine with hers again, gently squeezing as if to remind her— I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.

Luna squeezed back.

This moment belonged to them.

Just them.

No cameras. No flashing lights. No prying eyes. No one to tell them who they should be, how they should act, how they should dress, how they should live.

For years, they had mastered the art of existing under the radar, moving like shadows through a world that wasn’t meant to see them. They had found ways to love each other without letting the world know— soft touches hidden in plain sight, whispered words in stolen moments, glances that spoke louder than words ever could.

And tonight, in the quiet embrace of the night, under the glow of the moon and the distant hum of the city, they allowed themselves to be just Jeonghan and Luna.

No masks. No pretense. Just them.

But they had been wrong.

So wrong.

Because hidden in the shadows, from a distance neither of them had noticed, they were not alone.

A group of men— silent, calculated, and patient— had trailed after them, staying just far enough behind to remain undetected.

They had seen everything.

They had seen Jeonghan and Luna enter the park, had watched as they walked hand in hand without a second thought, without disguises, without the usual caution that kept them safe.

And then, when the two lovers had sunk into their moment of unguarded intimacy, the men had done their job.

Professional cameras, long-range lenses, and the precision of years of experience had ensured that everything— every single detail— was captured.

Every touch.

Every smile.

Every lingering gaze.

Every kiss.

Every single breath.

Every single moment that had once belonged to Jeonghan and Luna alone— stolen.

Framed within lenses meant for the world to see.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The shutters had been relentless, capturing their love in high definition, freezing each second of their private moment into something that would soon be dissected, analyzed, and spread across every screen, every headline, every social media feed.

And just like that…

Their little bubble— the one that had protected them for five long years— popped.

The world would come flooding in.

And it did… they came flooding in.

The morning light barely seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. The world outside was already stirring, but inside, Jeonghan and Luna remained blissfully unaware, wrapped up in the warmth of each other.

Luna was curled against him, her body pressed to his side, head resting on his chest, where the steady rise and fall of his breathing lulled her deeper into sleep. Jeonghan had one arm around her, his fingers absentmindedly splayed across her back, while the other rested atop the blanket that loosely covered them.

Everything was still.

Everything was quiet.

Until it wasn’t.

The noise started subtly— just a single vibration at first.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

Until it became a relentless series of buzzes, chimes, and notification dings that broke the peaceful silence.

Jeonghan stirred, his brows furrowing in annoyance, but Luna, the heavy sleeper that she was, barely moved.

Then came the ringing.

One call after another, overlapping, insistent— unrelenting.

Jeonghan was a light sleeper, and there was no way he could ignore it. His lashes fluttered, and with a groggy sigh, he opened his eyes, blinking against the dim light as his mind tried to catch up with reality.

His body reacted before his mind did. One hand instinctively lifted, covering Luna’s ear to shield her from the noise, while the other moved to gently press her closer, ensuring she stayed undisturbed. She shifted slightly, her fingers curling against his chest, but she remained fast asleep, completely oblivious to the chaos happening just beyond their broken little bubble.

Jeonghan exhaled through his nose, his annoyance growing as the buzzing persisted.

It was incessant.

His phone.

Luna’s phone.

Neither had stopped since he woke up.

That alone was enough to make his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

And whatever it was— it involved them.

His gaze flickered to the bedside table, where both of their phones vibrated aggressively against the wood, lighting up with call after call, message after message. He could see the names flashing across the screen— the members, their managers, their parents. Even social media notifications were piling up at an alarming rate.

The air in the room suddenly felt heavier.

Jeonghan’s fingers clenched around the sheets for a moment before he carefully untangled himself from Luna. She barely stirred, only making a small noise of protest before settling back into sleep.

His gut told him he wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to find out.

Reaching for his phone, he barely had time to register the dozens of texts and missed calls before another one came through.

His manager.

With a steadying breath, he accepted the call.

“Hyung.”

A sharp breath of relief was heard on the other end. “Jeonghan— finally.” His manager’s voice sounded tense, urgent. “I’ve been trying to reach you both for the past hour. We’re still trying to get ahold of Jiyeon.”

Jeonghan’s gaze flickered down to the woman sleeping peacefully beside him. His chest tightened. “She’s here,” he murmured, his voice quieter, more careful, as if saying it too loud would shatter the last few moments of peace they had left. His eyes traced her features— so serene, so unaware of the storm that was waiting for them outside this room.

His manager let out another breath, but the tension in his voice didn’t waver. “Good. That’s… good.”

Jeonghan frowned. “Hyung, what’s going on?”

There was a pause.

A moment too long, too hesitant.

“Jeonghan-ah,” his manager said, voice lowering as if bracing for impact. “You need to be ready for this… the two of you. It’s bad.”

Jeonghan’s patience finally snapped.

“What’s bad?” he demanded, voice sharpening as a cold unease settled in his stomach.

Another beat of silence.

Then—

“Dispatch uploaded pictures of you and Jiyeon at the park last night.”

Jeonghan stilled.

His body didn’t move, but his arms instinctively tightened around Luna, holding her just a little closer, a little more protectively.

The words rang in his ears, but his mind had already begun working, piecing things together faster than his emotions could catch up.

They had been followed.

They had been watched.

Grown men had lurked in the shadows, cameras in tow, capturing everything.

Every smile. Every touch. Every kiss.

A scalding heat simmered beneath his skin— not of panic, but of anger.

He knew this was bound to happen eventually.

They had been careful for years, but all it took was one mistake, one moment of carelessness, one night of wanting to just be them— and now their relationship was no longer their own.

For years, they had carved out a love story in the quiet, only for it to be stolen in the loudest way possible.

But more than anything, more than the invasion, more than the knowledge that the entire world was probably tearing through their privacy at this very moment—

It was Luna he cared about most.

This wasn’t just about him.

Jeonghan knows he could handle the attention. He could handle the questions, the scrutiny, the headlines. He had prepared for this moment for years.

But Luna…

She had spent five years keeping their love safe. She had built walls around it, protected it with every ounce of her being.

They weren’t hiding— they were protecting.

They had been selfish with this one thing, this one love, because it was the only thing that was truly theirs. But now, even that was gone.

And now, without warning, those walls had been torn down.

At the end of the day, the final decision wouldn’t be his to make.

It would be hers.

And whatever she chose— however she wanted to handle this— Jeonghan would stand beside her, just like he always had.

Jeonghan barely heard a word his manager was saying. His phone was pressed to his ear, but his attention was elsewhere— fixed on the woman sleeping beside him, the only thing in this moment that mattered.

“Jeonghan-ah, are you listening?” His manager’s voice was tense, barely masking the urgency underneath. “The higher-ups need to talk to the both of you. We’re setting up a meeting as soon as possible. They’re already drafting statements, they’re asking for a confirmation— but they won’t release anything until they speak with you and Jiyeon first.”

Jeonghan swallowed, his jaw tensing.

Statements.

Confirmations.

Damage control.

It was always about control with them.

But right now, all he cared about was her.

His fingers brushed lightly over Luna’s shoulder as she slept, his touch featherlight, as if he could somehow keep her safe in this moment— keep her in the warmth of sleep where reality couldn’t reach her yet.

Stay asleep just a little longer, please.

Jeonghan hoped she was dreaming of something beautiful, something so breathtaking that reality would pale in comparison. Maybe she was dreaming of the ocean, the soft lull of waves against the shore. Maybe she was dreaming of the stars, endless and vast, untouched by the world below.

Because when she woke up, that dream would be gone.

Jeonghan exhaled shakily. He knew how much this would hurt her. He knew how hard she had worked to build her walls— to make herself untouchable, unshaken. It had taken years for her to perfect that mask, to craft a shield strong enough to survive in this industry.

And now, just like that, those walls were about to crumble.

He shifted slightly, lowering his head to press a kiss against her forehead.

I don’t want you to hurt.

His arms tightened around her just a fraction, his heart aching at the thought of what she was about to wake up to.

For the first time in a long time, Jeonghan almost started praying.

Then Luna stirred.

It started small— just a soft sigh, her body shifting slightly against his. But then her brows knitted together, her fingers twitching against his chest as the incessant buzzing and chiming of her own phone finally started to break through her sleep.

She rubbed her eyes sluggishly, grogginess still thick in her voice.

“What?”

Jeonghan barely had time to compose himself before she blinked up at him, confusion evident in her tired gaze.

She could hear it now.

The constant ringing, the dings, the vibrations.

Her brows furrowed deeper as she slowly turned toward her phone. Jeonghan knew the moment she became fully awake— her gaze sharpening just slightly as she reached out, fingers brushing against her phone’s screen.

“What’s happening?” she murmured, blinking away the last remnants of sleep.

Jeonghan said nothing. He simply watched her, his face carefully neutral, but there was something unreadable in his expression.

Luna frowned, her fingers curling around her phone. “What is—”

She didn’t get to finish.

Before she could unlock the screen, Jeonghan moved.

Faster than he even realized, his hand shot out, gently but firmly stopping her from opening it.

Luna froze, staring at him in shock.

The only sound between them now was the relentless dinging of notifications.

Her heart stuttered.

Something was wrong.

Dread curled inside her chest like a slow-burning poison.

Her grip on her phone tightened as her breathing grew shallower. She could see it in Jeonghan’s eyes now— that quiet grief, that heavy sadness, the way he wasn’t trying to stop her because he wanted to hide something from her, but because he wanted to protect her.

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

“No.” Luna shook her head, shoving down the sickening fear clawing up her throat.

With trembling fingers, she unlocked her phone.

“No. No. No.”

She scrolled through the messages— dozens of them. Her parents. Her members. Even some industry friends. Their messages all carried the same weight of concern, asking if she was okay, asking if she had seen it yet.

That was the easy part.

What came next made her stomach turn.

Her manager’s worried text was at the top of her notifications, followed by a single link.

Luna hesitated, her breath catching in her throat.

She clicked it.

Jeonghan could only watch her, his chest tight, his fingers clenching into the sheets. He had already seen it. He had already felt the weight of it. But Luna…

Luna was seeing it for the first time.

Her eyes widened as she took in the headlines.

BREAKING: SEVENTEEN's Luna and Jeonghan reportedly spotted on a not-so-friendly date

EXCLUSIVE: SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Luna spotted on a late-night date— Secret Relationship EXPOSED!

Caught red-handed: SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Luna’s romantic rendezvous under the moonlight!

Dispatch’s new couple revealed— SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and Luna caught on camera!

Then the pictures.

From the moment Jeonghan’s car pulled into the park.

To the way he had reached for her hand.

To the way he had kissed her temple under the streetlights.

To the way they sat together, lost in their own little world.

To the way they shared a passionate kiss, wrapped in each others’ arms.

Frame after frame.

Everything was there.

Luna felt like she was going to be sick.

Luna remembers how there was a time when she had wanted the whole world to know.

When she was younger, when their love was still something new and untouched, she had dreamed of showing Jeonghan off— of holding his hand in public without fear, of gushing about him openly.

But reality had hit them fast.

She had watched idols get scrutinized, torn apart for daring to love. She had seen careers ruined, reputations destroyed, relationships ended, and lives violated.

She had learned quickly that the only way to protect what they had— was to keep it a secret.

Her vision blurred.

Her hands started to shake, her fingers clammy as they gripped her phone too tightly. Her chin wobbled, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

Her heart pounded erratically in her chest, constricting, tightening—

She was dizzy.

Nauseous.

Her fingers scrolled too fast, eyes scanning the comments that were already piling up.

> She’s so selfish. She ruined Jeonghan’s image.

> She doesn’t deserve him.

> Typical. The only girl in SEVENTEEN and she’s screwing a member.

> PR stunt.

> Didn’t we predict this almost ten years ago? She’s fucking a member. Maybe even more of them tbh.

> Jeonghan could do so much better.

> Well, what’s new? She’s a slut, we’ve established that.

> They should kick her out of the group.

> That’s all she’s good for anyway, a PR stunt.

She barely even registered the words.

She had stopped caring about hate years ago.

She had built up a thick skin, had learned to survive in an industry that never wanted her in the first place.

But this—

People picking apart their love, something she had spent years protecting—

This brought her back to when she was seventeen, sobbing into her pillow over the first wave of hate she had ever received.

Her lungs burned.

She couldn’t breathe.

Her phone slipped from her hands, falling onto the bed.

As if the universe was playing a sick joke on her, the video autoplayed.

“We’ve caught them.”

A man’s voice, snickering behind the camera.

Luna whimpered.

Her hands flew to her ears, shaking violently as a sob tore from her lips.

Immediately, Jeonghan grabbed her phone, locking it, before gathering her into his arms.

“Jiyeon-ah,” he murmured, his voice low, soothing, as he rocked her gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay, baby. You’re okay, I’ve got you.”

She gasped, trying to breathe, but her chest was too tight, her panic spiraling too fast.

“Breathe,” Jeonghan whispered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “Slow, deep breaths. Just follow me, okay? In—” he inhaled deeply, holding her closer, “—and out.”

She trembled violently against him, her face buried in his neck.

“Why would they do that?” she choked out, her voice small, broken.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, his heart breaking.

“I don’t know, baby,” he whispered. “I don’t know.”

But he would do anything to make it stop.

Luna’s breaths came in short, sharp gasps, her entire body trembling in Jeonghan’s arms. She clung to him, her fingers fisting the fabric of his shirt as if she could anchor herself to him, as if she could disappear into the warmth of his embrace and escape the reality that was crashing down around her.

“C-can’t breathe, Han.” Her voice was a broken whisper, barely pushing past her sobs. She burrowed deeper into his neck, her tears hot against his skin.

Jeonghan tightened his arms around her, his hand moving up to cradle the back of her head. “Yes, you can,” he murmured softly. “You can, Nana-ya. Just follow my breathing, okay? You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

But she was spiraling too fast, her body shaking harder against his.

“Everything’s ruined,” she choked out, gasping against his collarbone. “It’s out there. We’re out there. There’s nothing we can do—”

“Hey,” Jeonghan said firmly, yet still gentle, pulling back slightly. He cupped her face, his thumbs immediately brushing away the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Look at me, Jiyeon-ah.”

She resisted, trying to bury herself back into him, but he didn’t let her. He held her face in his hands, tilting her chin up so she had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“Breathe with me,” he said again, softer this time. “Slow and deep, just like this.” He exaggerated his inhale, his chest rising steadily, before exhaling slowly. “Just like that, my moon. You can do it.”

She tried. She really did. But her breaths kept hitching, her body kept trembling, and her mind wouldn’t stop racing.

“It’s us,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s so clearly us. The pictures— there’s no denying it, no pretending, no trying to spin it another way. It’s just… there.”

Jeonghan’s jaw clenched, but he kept his touch gentle, kept his voice steady. “I know.”

“And the people—” her breath shuddered, her fingers curling into his wrists as he held her face. “They’re already crucifying me, Han. It’s not even about the rumors or the speculation anymore. They know it’s real. They know we’re real. And they’re tearing me apart for it.”

A fresh sob broke through her, her hands shaking as they clutched at his wrists.

“I don’t care what they say about me,” she whispered, her voice laced with exhaustion, with anger, with hurt. “I haven’t cared in so fucking long. I learned how to ignore them. I had to. I had to. But this— this is different.”

Jeonghan brushed his thumb under her eye, wiping away a tear before it could fall. “How is it different, love?” he asked softly, his patience unwavering.

“Because they don’t know us.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. “They don’t know us, but they think they do. They think they know our story, our love, our choices. They think they have the right to tear us apart when they don’t even understand who we are.”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, his heart aching at her words. He let her spill everything, let her pour out all her frustrations, all her pain, as he held her close.

Her sobs quieted just slightly, but her hands still trembled in his grasp. He tilted her face up again, pressing his forehead to hers.

“You’re right. They don’t know about us, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice full of quiet conviction. “They think they do, but they don’t. They don’t know what we’ve been through. They don’t know the nights we spent whispering in the dark, promising each other that we would make this work no matter what. They don’t know the sacrifices we’ve made just to keep this love safe. They don’t know the way I look at you when no one’s watching. They don’t know the way you hold my hand under the table when the world feels too loud.”

Luna’s breath hitched, a fresh wave of tears filling her eyes.

“They don’t know us,” Jeonghan repeated, his voice steady, unwavering. “And they never will. Not in the way we do. Not in the way that matters.”

She swallowed hard, her lips quivering as he continued to wipe away her tears.

“I don’t want them to ruin this,” she admitted in a broken whisper. “I don’t want them to take this away from us.”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “They can’t. They don’t have that power. The only people who get to decide what happens to us— is us. You hear me?”

Luna’s breath shuddered, but she nodded, her fingers finally loosening their desperate grip. Jeonghan kissed her cheek, then her temple, then the tip of her nose, grounding her with every touch.

“You’re safe,” he whispered against her skin. “We’re safe.”

Luna let out a shaky breath, her hands still trembling as she gripped Jeonghan’s wrists. Her mind was spinning, overwhelmed with thoughts that she couldn’t contain. Even though her breathing had steadied slightly under Jeonghan’s soothing touch, the weight of everything was still crushing her chest.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered, voice raw from crying. “Why do we have to go through this? Why does it always have to be this way? Why can’t we just… exist without people tearing us apart? Is that too much to ask?

Jeonghan’s thumbs continued their slow, comforting strokes against her skin, his eyes never leaving hers. He didn’t rush her, didn’t tell her to stop. He let her speak, let her pour out the frustration that had been building inside her for years.

“I knew this would happen,” she admitted, voice thick with emotion. “I knew that if they ever found out, they’d twist everything, rip us apart like we’re just some story for them to consume.” She let out a bitter laugh, one that held no humor. “And the worst part? They don’t even see us as real people… we’re entertainment. We’re just characters to them— characters in a drama they get to judge, gossip about, and decide the ending for.”

Jeonghan’s grip on her tightened slightly, grounding her, reminding her that he was here, that they were real.

“They don’t know how hard we fought for this,” Luna continued, her voice rising with frustration. “They don’t know how many nights we stayed up, whispering about the future, trying to convince ourselves that love was worth the risk. They don’t know how many times we almost gave up because we were scared— because we knew the world wouldn’t be kind to us if they ever found out.”

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his chest aching at the pain in her words.

“They don’t know about the nights I cried because I hated hiding,” Luna whispered, her eyes filling with fresh tears. “How I wanted to tell the world, to scream it from the rooftops that I love you. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t because I knew what would happen. And now that it’s happening, it’s so much worse than I imagined.”

Jeonghan exhaled slowly, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know,” he murmured, his voice filled with understanding. “I know, baby.”

Luna shook her head, her chest rising and falling unevenly. “And the comments— God, the comments.” Her fingers clenched into fists against his chest. “They think they know us. They think they have the right to judge us. To call me names, to call you names, to pick apart every little detail about us as if we owe them an explanation. As if our love is something they get to approve of.”

Jeonghan’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it, choosing to focus on her instead. He gently tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “They don’t matter, Nana-ya.”

She let out a broken laugh, shaking her head. “That’s easy to say when you’re not the one being called a fucking slu—”

“They. Don’t. Matter.” Jeonghan repeated, firmer this time. His voice wasn’t harsh, but it was resolute, unshakable. He held her gaze, his thumbs brushing away the tears staining her cheeks. “Not the strangers. Not the trolls. Not the ones who think they know us just because they see a few pictures online. They don’t know anything, Jiyeon. And they never will.”

Her breath caught in her throat, her lips parting slightly.

Jeonghan’s expression softened, his fingers caressing the curve of her jaw. “You know what does matter?” he asked quietly.

She swallowed, blinking up at him.

“You.” He leaned in, pressing the gentlest kiss to her forehead before whispering against her skin. “Me. Us.”

Luna’s chin wobbled as another wave of emotion hit her.

“Our members,” Jeonghan continued, his voice steady, reassuring. “Our friends. Our families. The people who have stood by us, who know us— not as idols, not as gossip, but as real people. The ones who love us and support us, no matter what.” He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his gaze unwavering. “And our fans, Nana-ya. The ones who truly care about us, not just as performers, but as human beings. The ones who love us because we’re real, not in spite of it.”

Luna inhaled shakily, his words settling deep within her.

“At the end of the day,” Jeonghan said softly, his fingers tracing slow circles against her skin, “they are the only ones who matter. Not the ones who hide behind screens, not the ones who think they have a say in our lives. They don’t know us.” His voice dropped to barely a whisper. “And they never will and that’s okay because— they don’t matter.”

Luna let out a shaky breath, her fingers loosening their grip. The storm inside her was still raging, but Jeonghan’s words were like an anchor, pulling her back to solid ground.

She looked at him— really looked at him. At the warmth in his eyes, the quiet strength in his presence, the unwavering love he held for her in every touch, every word.

And suddenly, the noise of the outside world didn’t feel so loud anymore.

Luna’s breath hitched, her fingers curled weakly into Jeonghan’s hoodie as she whispered, her voice barely above the sound of their breathing, “I’m going to miss you a little more when the world is being too harsh, Jeongie.”

Her chin wobbled, a single tear slipping past her lashes, tracing a slow, sorrowful path down her cheek. The sight of it melted Jeonghan’s heart in the most painful way. He wanted to wipe away every ounce of sadness, every ounce of fear that she felt— but the reality of it all was that he couldn’t.

Because tomorrow, he had to leave.

Two weeks.

Two weeks of basic training.

Two weeks away from her.

Two weeks where she would have to deal with the aftermath of their relationship being exposed without him by her side.

The thought nearly crushed him. He didn’t want to leave her like this, not now. But he had no choice.

Jeonghan sighed, his hand moving to gently comb through her hair, pushing it away from her tear-streaked face. He gave her a small, knowing smile, trying to ease the tension in her chest, trying to ground her the way he always did.

“You know what you should do when the world is being stupid and I’m not there?” he asked, his voice laced with fondness.

Luna blinked up at him, sniffling, waiting for his answer like it was something sacred.

“You face it headfirst— like you always do,” Jeonghan said simply, his fingers threading through her hair with delicate care. “Like the time you fought off that ridiculous rumor about you paying people to be a part of the group.”

Luna let out a weak, teary scoff, but he saw the way her lips twitched slightly.

“Or the time a fan tried to convince everyone that you secretly hated Seungcheol, and you shut that down with one Weverse live where you spent the whole time telling stories about him and listing the things you love about him in the most adorably aggressive way possible.”

A small huff left her nose.

Jeonghan smirked, tilting his head. “Or how about the time a rookie idol said something shady about you in an interview, and when you an I ran into her backstage, you walked straight up to her, smiled, and said, ‘I heard you have something to say to me. Say it to my face.’”

Luna rolled her eyes at the memory, but the corner of her lips twitched ever so slightly.

Jeonghan gave her a pointed look, his fingers tracing slow, comforting circles on her back. “That’s the Bae Jiyeon I know. The one who doesn’t take shit from anyone. The one who walks into a room and owns it. The one who protects the members like they’re her own blood. The one who, despite everything, still stands tall.”

Luna swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing larger.

His expression softened. “I need you to be strong for me, baby,” he murmured, resting his forehead lightly against hers. “And that should be easy, because you’re the strongest person I know.”

Luna shut her eyes tightly as his words washed over her, but more tears escaped anyway.

“You have to be strong,” Jeonghan continued, brushing his thumb against her cheek, catching another stray tear. “Because we need to face the consequences together. No hiding. No running away.”

She exhaled shakily, nodding against him.

Jeonghan suddenly pulled back slightly, a knowing look in his eyes. “Remember when that girl confronted you at that fan sign a couple years ago? The one who actually had the nerve to say all that nonsense to your face?”

Luna blinked at him, confused for a moment before the memory came flooding back.

Jeonghan smirked. “Remember what you told her? I want you to repeat it.”

Luna stared at him, her lips parting slightly. She let out a soft, watery laugh before she whispered, her voice laced with that sharpness she always carried when she needed it:

“You don’t have to like me. I don’t wake up everyday to impress you.”

Jeonghan chuckled, warmth spreading through his chest at the familiar fire that flickered in her eyes, however faint it was in this moment. He cupped her cheek, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

“There she is,” he murmured, smiling against her skin. “That’s the Luna I know. She may be a little tired right now, and that’s okay. But I know she’s in there.���

Luna’s eyes glistened even more, her lips pressing together as she swallowed thickly.

She looked at him— at the way he saw her, truly saw her, even when she felt like she was broken beyond repair.

And suddenly, all she could do was whisper, “I love you.”

She exhaled shakily, her voice so fragile yet so full of depth. “So much. It hurts.”

Luna felt everything at once— the weight of the world on her shoulders, the chaos waiting for her outside, the relentless storm she would have to fight through.

But in the middle of it all, in him, she found solace.

Jeonghan was her anchor.

Jeonghan was her safe place.

He was the only person in the world who could make her feel loved when she felt unlovable.

The only person who could make her feel beautiful when the world tried to tear her apart.

The only person who could make her feel important, confident, strong— when she felt like crumbling.

And she knew— without hesitation, without a single doubt in her heart— that if she had to choose, she would always choose him.

She would choose herself and Jeonghan religiously.

Every single time.

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes soft, his thumb grazing over her lips as if memorizing the shape of them. He let out a small chuckle before murmuring, “You really love me, huh?”

Luna let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks. “So much that it hurts, Jeongie.”

Jeonghan hummed, pressing another soft, lingering kiss to her forehead. Then, with a teasing smirk, he whispered, “Well, good. Because I love you too and you’re stuck with me forever.”

The sharp ring of the doorbell cut through the stillness of the room, making both Luna and Jeonghan freeze. Their eyes met instantly, tension thick in the air. For a moment, neither of them moved, waiting, as if the sound itself would just disappear if they ignored it. But it rang again, more insistent this time.

Jeonghan exhaled, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to Luna’s lips before slipping out of bed. “I’ll go see who it is,” he murmured before making his way to the door.

Luna remained in place, momentarily stuck in the aftermath of their conversation. Her chest still felt heavy, her mind a mess of thoughts that she didn’t have time to organize. With a slow inhale, she wiped the dried tears from her face, ran her hands through her hair a few times, and straightened her posture.

She needed to lock in. She needed to be composed.

After another breath, she got up and followed her fiancé.

She had been expecting the members. It would’ve made sense for them to barge in, bombarding her and Jeonghan with reassurances and attempts to cheer them up. But the distinct lack of chatter, of familiar voices, made it clear that wasn’t the case.

Instead, standing just inside the doorway were her manager and Jeonghan’s manager, their expressions grim.

“Jiyeonie…” Luna’s manager said as soon as she saw her, voice soft, filled with concern. Before Luna could react, the older woman moved toward her, pulling her into a warm yet heavy embrace. She rubbed Luna’s back in a way that was meant to be comforting, but all it did was confirm the severity of the situation.

Over her manager’s shoulder, Luna’s eyes immediately sought out Jeonghan’s. His lips were pressed together, gaze already on his own manager, waiting for an explanation.

“They’re here for the confirmation statement,” Jeonghan finally said, voice comforting.

Luna pulled away, her back straightening as she moved to Jeonghan’s side. He reached for her hand instinctively, fingers curling around hers as they sat down on the couch. Their managers followed suit, settling across from them.

Luna’s manager cleared her throat. “We were supposed to have this conversation at HYBE,” she began, her tone professional yet careful, as if she were treading on thin ice. “The higher-ups wanted to meet with both of you directly to discuss the… situation.”

Jeonghan’s manager nodded, picking up where she left off. “But we convinced them that we should be the ones to talk to you first. There’s a lot to consider here, and we need to discuss the best course of action for both of you— damage control, the confirmation statement, and what comes after.”

Jeonghan and Luna remained quiet, listening.

They understood how these things worked. Rumors came and went, scandals emerged and were buried. They had dealt with their fair share of baseless gossip over the years, ones they had easily denied.

But this…

There was no denying this.

The pictures were clear as day.

The damage that needed to be controlled was far greater.

Their managers continued, taking turns explaining the various approaches they could take. It was all methodical, calculated. The company’s priority was preserving their images, maintaining stability. And the best way to do that, according to them, was through a quiet confirmation— an acknowledgment of their relationship without fueling further chaos.

But then came the part that made Luna’s jaw clench.

“…After the initial confirmation, we wait a few months,” her manager explained carefully. “Then, when the time is right, we announce that you’ve decided to part ways, that you’ve chosen to remain friends instead. You’ll still be together, of course, just… privately. It’s the best way to—”

Luna’s patience snapped.

“Tell them we’re engaged.”

The bite in her tone was unmistakable, sharp and unwavering. Jeonghan smirked at the sound of it, glancing down at his feet, but he didn’t interfere. He simply let her speak, watching as she took full control of the room.

Both managers blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“What?” Jeonghan’s manager said, confusion laced in his voice.

Luna lifted her chin. “Tell them we’re engaged.”

Her manager hesitated, brows furrowing. “Jiyeon-ah, we need to minimize the—”

“Don’t make me repeat again what I just said,” Luna cut her off, voice cold, eyes sharp.

The room fell into silence.

Luna exhaled through her nose, leaning forward slightly. “You’re going to release an official statement confirming that Jeonghan and I are together. Not just dating— engaged. We’ve been in a relationship for five years. Since July of 2019. And we’ve been engaged since September 8th of this year— a few weeks ago.

Her manager opened her mouth, likely to protest, but Luna didn’t give her the chance.

“We’ve spent the last few days together as much as possible before Jeonghan enlists tomorrow, and we deserve to have that respected. I don’t care what loopholes you’re supposed to follow. I don’t care what narrative the company thinks is best. I don’t care about damage control. This is our relationship, and it is not a scandal.”

The authority in her voice made both managers shift uncomfortably, but neither of them dared to interrupt her.

Luna continued, unwavering. “You can also tell them that they should mind their own fucking business and leave us the fuck alone— but I understand that I’m not allowed to say certain things, so instead, you can add how we hope that people will respect our privacy. We hope that those who have supported us for years will continue to do so. And if they don’t?” She tilted her head slightly. “That’s their problem. Not ours.”

Her fingers tightened around Jeonghan’s.

She leaned back against the couch, her expression unreadable. “I want that official statement out as soon as possible. It’s not difficult— you’ve done this plenty of times before. It’s just a few paragraphs.”

Her eyes darkened, her tone dropping a degree colder. “If I don’t see that statement in the next five hours, I’ll post it myself.”

The silence that followed Luna’s final words was thick and suffocating. Their managers exchanged a look, hesitant, as if weighing their options, but there was no winning against Luna in this state.

Then, Jeonghan exhaled sharply, breaking the silence with a lazy smirk. He leaned back against the couch, tilting his head slightly as he regarded their managers with a look that was equal parts amused and unimpressed.

“You know,” he mused, voice slow, deliberate, “we could always just do a live broadcast instead.”

Both managers’ eyes widened in pure horror.

Jeonghan’s smirk deepened. “Go on Weverse, say a few words straight to the fans. No edits, no filtering. Just us, raw and real, telling them exactly how it is. I’m sure they’d appreciate the honesty.” He let the thought linger in the air before adding, “I mean, if that statement doesn’t come out within the next few hours, I might get bored enough to do it myself.”

The underlying threat was not lost on anyone.

Jeonghan’s manager was the first to sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he relented, voice tight. “We’ll make sure the statement is out as soon as possible.”

Luna’s manager nodded, though she still looked slightly shell-shocked. “Yes. We’ll take care of it immediately.”

With that, they stood, clearly eager to leave before Jeonghan or Luna threw any more surprises at them.

“We’ll keep you updated,” Jeonghan’s manager assured as he made his way toward the door.

Luna’s manager hesitated for a second before giving Luna one last look, softer this time. “Take care, Jiyeonie.”

Luna nodded, her expression unreadable. “You too.”

And just like that, they were gone.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Jeonghan wasted no time. He turned to Luna, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close, pressing his forehead to hers. Then, with a gentle tilt of her chin, he captured her lips in a slow, deep kiss.

There was nothing rushed about it, nothing urgent. Just warmth, reassurance, and the unspoken promise that no matter what came next, they were in this together. His lips moved against hers with practiced ease, coaxing her into the moment, his hands resting firmly on her waist. Luna sighed into the kiss, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, holding him close as if anchoring herself.

When they finally pulled away, Jeonghan rested his forehead against hers, his thumbs stroking slow circles against her sides.

“I’m proud of you,” he murmured, voice low but filled with nothing but sincerity.

Luna’s lips curled into the softest of smiles as she looked up at him. “I’m proud of us.”

Jeonghan hummed, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I love you, my pretty moon.”

“I love you more.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Impossible.”

For a few moments, they simply stood there, wrapped up in each other, the weight of the day finally beginning to settle.

But then, as expected, Jeonghan was the first to break the moment.

With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he tilted his head, eyes glinting mischievously. “You know,” he drawled, “you were really hot earlier.”

Luna blinked at him before scoffing. “Seriously?”

He grinned. “I’m just saying, watching you shut them down like that? Very sexy. Very hot.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but the faint blush dusting her cheeks betrayed her. “You’re ridiculous.”

Jeonghan shrugged. “And yet, you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

He gasped dramatically. “Unfortunately?”

Luna laughed, and for the first time that day, it felt light. Jeonghan’s grin widened at the sound.

“You know what would be even hotter?” he mused, tone casual but the glint in his eyes anything but.

Luna narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

Jeonghan leaned in slightly. “Those photos I took of you a couple of days ago,” he started, voice taking on that familiar teasing lilt. “The ones where you were wearing that denim outfit.”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “And?”

Jeonghan let out a wistful sigh, as if recalling something truly magnificent. “You just looked so good, baby. The fit, the lighting, the way the denim hugged you just right— honestly, it was art. Pure art.”

Luna giggled, shaking her head. “And what exactly is your point?”

His smirk turned downright devious. “It would be even hotter if you posted those pictures right now, like nothing happened.”

Luna stilled, staring at him for a few seconds, before her lips slowly curved into a smirk of her own. “It would be hotter if I posted it the second after they publish the confirmation statement.”

Jeonghan’s grin was instant. “This is why I love you.”

Before Luna could react, he grabbed her hand, dragging her back toward their room. “Come on,” he said, practically giddy, “let’s get your phone.”

Once inside, Luna sat on the bed, scrolling through her camera roll as Jeonghan wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, gently swaying them from side to side. He rested his chin on her shoulder, watching as she selected the best pictures of herself in the denim outfit.

“What caption should I write?” Luna asked, glancing at him.

Jeonghan stared at the blue denim for a moment before smirking. “‘Something blue.’”

Luna burst out laughing, the sound breaking through the tension that had loomed over them all day. She shook her head at him, but she was already typing the caption.

It was simple, subtle, but so obviously implying their engagement.

And as if the universe itself approved, both of their phones vibrated at the same time.

A notification.

The confirmation statement had been posted.

Luna smirked.

And with zero hesitation, she hit post.

Within seconds, her Instagram was flooded. She giggled as she scrolled through the comments.

> NOT HER JUST POSTING THIS LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED OMG I LOVE HER!

> girl just got exposed and she said “ok but here’s me looking hot”

> mother is mothering and she does not care

> she wins. she actually wins life.

> yoon jeonghan i know you’re somewhere smiling like an idiot rn

And then, as expected, their group chat with the members exploded— as if it wasn’t already.

kwanie: Bae Jiyeon! I hate you. I actually hate you. I was drinking water when I saw your post.

woo: no because why are you so unhinged, our Jiyeonie 😆

shi-shi: CONGRATS BUT ALSO MA’AM PLEASE??

gyu-gyu: this is why you and hyung deserve each other.

hansolie: Respect.

joshie: You really said “scandal? What scandal?” and dropped a thirst trap 😎

Junnie: Queen behavior. Iconic. Trendsetter.

Jihoonie: You’ve always had a talent for choosing violence at the best moments.

Cheollie: Honestly, I’m just mad I didn’t predict this.

kyeomie: CONGRATS BUT ALSO BAE JIYEON PLEASE?? SOME OF US WERE TRYING TO EAT BREAKFAST AND NOW I’M CHOKING ON MY FOOD.

hao-hao: You really just broke the entire internet, huh? I hope you two know that.

channie: Not you breaking the internet and then logging on like “anyway here’s me looking hot.” I’m scared of you, Noona 😀

Luna giggled as she read through the messages, shaking her head in amusement before typing her response.

Luna: Glad to know you all appreciate my art.

A beat passed before another message popped up.

kwanie: Yeah, yeah. But also, for real… congratulations, you two. We’re happy for you 🥹

Cheollie: We love you both, so don’t stress too much, okay?

Luna felt Jeonghan’s arms tighten around her just slightly, as if he had read the messages over her shoulder. And though neither of them said anything in that moment, they didn’t need to. The people who truly knew them, who truly mattered, were here. Supporting them.

And that was enough.

Luna smiled, shaking her head as she typed out her responses. And Jeonghan, watching her with nothing but pure fondness in his eyes, felt something settle deep in his chest.

She was smiling again.

Despite everything, despite the chaos, she had powered through another hurdle thrown her way just like she always does.

That’s the thing about darkness— it makes the moon shine even brighter.

Everyone knew that.

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[mintwithchoco]

Coming Down

tripleS Jiyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 5142 words

Categories: smut, fluff-ish, tsundere!jiyeon aka way too many pabos

Inspired from:

“You’re pathetic, you know that?”

Her first few words take you by surprise, but you're unfazed. She's not wrong, you are pathetic. 

You chuckle slightly. “Wow, straight to the point, huh.”

“Shut up. It's that time again, isn't it?”

“What time?”

You heard her loud sigh. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” 

“I…” You stop for a while, reorganizing your words. “I just need to hear your voice.”

“Get to the point. What do you want?”

You can hear the faint music playing in the background. She could’ve ignored your call, and yet she still picks up. Maybe amidst her cold words, there’s still some space left inside of her heart for you.

“Can I come over?”

A few seconds of silence, but it’s deafening to your ears. Regret slowly creeps into your soul, before the voice comes back, softer this time.

“Door’s unlocked. You got five minutes.”

Though as pathetic as you may seem—drunkenly stumbling to get inside of Jiyeon's apartment—a sense of relief washes over you in an instant, and you ask for nothing more.

Decision-making is not your strongest ability. Numerous times you have found yourself not being able to grasp the concept of reality in your actions, and you yourself don't know the exact cause. It's been this way since you first deluged yourself in that devilish liquid, tantalizing at best for its flavor, yet drives you to your worst, with each experience making you fall deeper and deeper into madness.

Luckily, unlike others, you have a lifeline. 

Jiyeon sighs as she looks at your lifeless movements in the doorway, trying your best to enter the living room. “You look like shit.”

“I know,” you simply reply before crashing into the couch. “My head fucking hurts.”

 Jiyeon throws you a shade before leaving to the kitchen, “Isn’t that a normal thing for you?” 

Silence filled the air as the last few words left from Jiyeon’s mouth. You’re dumbfounded, though you couldn't agree more with the points she made. It's not like it’s the first time she has flamed you like this—it’s the opposite actually. Somehow this time, it finally breaks through your intoxicated self, instead of you just brushing it off as an oopsie.

“Yeah, you’re right. Can’t even get my own shit together.”

She lets out a soft laugh. “Your eyes are finally open now?” 

“It’s been open for a while. It’s just—fuuuuck.” That sharp stinging pain in your head strikes again. “Ugh. I tried Jiyeon, I really tried.”

She comes back to you with a glass of water in her hand. “You’re not trying hard enough. Whatever you’re doing, it’s not working. Drink.”

You witness her going back to the kitchen after placing the glass in front of you. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna quit.”

Your nonchalant remark earns a faint blush on the girl’s cheeks, but she immediately throws it away. “Pabo! It's not like I’m your mom or anything.” She's lucky you didn't notice it. Not that you can anyway. 

As you lay your head on one of the pillows on the sofa, Jiyeon begins to prepare the soup to cure your hangover. She’s not the best cook, but she knows that you’ll eat anything in this state, as long as it's warm. It didn’t take very long for the house to smell heavenly all around, even though she’s just throwing anything in the pot that will fill you up. 

“You really don’t have to,” you say as you realize what she’s doing.

“I know,” she simply answers. “I just wanna get this shit done with.”

You softly smile. “Thanks.”

She continues on with her cooking, tasting and adjusting the broth multiple times so it’s suited to your taste. You eye her every action from time to time, and it hints at her willingness to treat you, even if the words that left her lips say the opposite. That's how your relationship has been with Ji Suhyeon over the past few years. She's one hell of a character to bear with, but she's always there for you whenever you're at your lowest.

Vice versa? Nope, it's always her that takes care of you.

After a few more minutes of tinkering, Jiyeon brings the finished dish—an aromatic soup filled with leftover meat and veggies—over to the living room’s table. “Hey, get up. Your food’s ready.” No response—your head’s still a big mess. She then proceeds to shake you by the arm. “Yah! Wake up!”

You got up almost immediately. “Fuck, sorry.”

“Damn, what got you so fucked up?” Jiyeon asks as she settles herself to the couch beside you.

You pick up the spoon and start eating. “Like usual.” 

“Oh, really? Then why’d you show up? If it’s just another one of your normal nights, you can just sleep outside.” Jiyeon scoffs.

“Fuck, this is so good.” You take a spoonful of the soup and point it to her. “Here.” 

Slightly taken aback, she snaps. “It’s your food, just eat it.” 

“But I insist.”

“And I don’t wanna.”

“Oh, come on. Just one bite.”

She clicks her tongue, feeling rather annoyed at this side of you. “Fucking—” At this point, she’s pretty much done with your bullshit. “You better tell me what happened.”

As soon as you nod your head, she leans forward and takes the food into her mouth. “I thought you would just grab the spoon off my hands.”

It’s a second hit on what’s inside her heart—her ears are now red from the embarrassment. By remembering that this is not the real you, she’s still able to keep her true feelings under control, kicking your feet as a way to let it go. “Pabo! Hurry up and tell me what happened!”

“Ugh, fine.” You rub your temple, trying your best to remember the events that happened beforehand. “I was stressed out. Felt like shit. Then my workmates just brought me to the club again.”

“Ironically, you still feel like shit,” she chuckles.

“That’s what I said to them before.” You continue, “But they were my seniors, so I can’t really dip out. Can’t even remember some of their names. But then suddenly, everything felt like a doozy. Like—someone just injected me with dopamine. I-” You pause for a while, hesitant to say the next few lines. “I got high. So high, until I can’t feel myself anymore.”

Jiyeon immediately connects the lines. “So once it wears off, you can't control yourself, feel lonely, and you proceed to disturb me in the middle of the night.”

“You could just not pick up the call,” you point out. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, and expect you to be just fine? No thanks.” Jiyeon shakes her head, and inhales a sharp breath. “Aren’t you sick of this already?”

“Of what? Your cooking? Hell no, this is delicious!”

She slaps you on the shoulder. “Pabo-ya! I’m serious! You always do this, pushing yourself to the edge for your own pleasure. And then when it gets too dark, you find me, like I’m some sort of angel that heals you.”

She’s not wrong. You always want her when you’re coming down.

You look down upon the bowl, half of its content has already been consumed. “I just… I don't know what else to do. You’re the only one that’s on my mind.”

“You—” Strike three. This is not good for Jiyeon’s heart. It’s racing so much, her body is heating up amidst the slight cold air of the room. In a pinch, she brushes her hair back, acting nonchalant while you continue to eat. “O-Of course, I’m your only true friend after all.”

“A true friend who’s so good at cooking. Have I ever told you that?” Another slap on your arm, and you hiss in pain. “Jeez, chill out.”

Jiyeon rolls her eyes in annoyance. “Alright then, what if I don't pick up? What are you going to do?” 

“I’ll probably just… die in a ditch somewhere, I don’t know,” you shrug. “Or probably get robbed by some gang.”

Jiyeon looks at you sternly. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

“I do.” You gulp nervously. “I really don’t know how to stop.”

Her heart rate finally calms down, but now she’s frustrated. It’s been swelling up inside her, ever since you came through that front door. She cannot stand to be stuck in this loop anymore. To see how much of a mess you are, suffering in your unwanted addiction, every month, every week, every day. It's getting out of hand at this point, so Jiyeon knows that she needs to do more than this.

The only thing that's getting in her way is her true feelings.

For the longest time, she hated that she still had feelings for you genuinely, despite your reckless behaviors. You were once her favorite comfort zone—every time you both hung out, there’s not a single second where the air around you is awkward. There will always be a topic of interest or an activity that the both of you enjoy doing. Overtime, her heart bloomed, but she kept it to herself—it wasn’t the right time yet.

Everything changed however once you got a new job, a company with a totally different vibe as you’re used to. Meanwhile, Jiyeon continued on with her life, studying in college while keeping up with her ballet routines. You both eventually grew apart, with you unbeknowingly falling into insanity, while she’s keeping the flame of passion alive. The lack of free time is also to be blamed after all, and she does hold some regret for it. 

Before her facade begins to fade away, she gets up from her seat. Sighing to herself, she says, “Just put the bowl in the sink once you’re done. You can sleep here, but when morning comes, you leave.” Just before she leaves for her room, she looks back at you with a soft yet saddened gaze. “Figure this shit out on your own. I can’t always be there for you.”

“Wait, Jiyeon—” The door then slams itself shut, leaving you in the living room all alone. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

With the ambient silence being your partner of the night, you quickly finish the meal and place everything she brought into the sink. The drowsiness now takes its place as soon as you’re back on the couch—it suddenly feels way more comfier and warmer than before. You stare blankly at the ceiling, thoughts running in your head as much as before. But one thing’s for certain—she still cares for you, and that’s enough for you to feel alive.

“Thank you, Jiyeon.”

— 

Jiyeon presses her back against the door, with her hand close to her chest. She hears the faint words that he uttered a few seconds ago, and that is what breaks her apart. Her knees are the first to give out, forcing her to sit down abruptly. Her heart is still pounding fast, and her breathing is growing rapidly.

God, she hates him so much for this.

She had promised herself not to care about him anymore.

Promised herself not to let him back into her life.

Promised herself to forget about him.

And yet, she’s breaking into tears for him again. It’s a mix of emotions for her, and honestly, it’s getting exhausting. Just because she wants to act all tough around him, she hurts her true feelings at the same time, shoving it so far down so that he’ll never see that side of her.

That side of her that truly loves him, and still has a hope for him to change.

— 

Around an hour later, Jiyeon enters the living room once again. Her mind was too loud to be ignored, until she couldn't fall asleep. As expected, you’re sound asleep due to the hearty meal from earlier. Her footsteps gradually become softer the closer she gets to inspect you snoring away while hugging one of her prized possessions in the house—a body-sized swan pillow. 

If you were awake, she’d definitely be smacking your head multiple times while complaining about how it’ll get all dirty with your drool.

Instead, it’s a gentle smile on her lips.

Seeing you in a much calmer state brings comfort to her eyes. She suddenly recalls a time where you accidentally slept in the car while waiting for her to get ready late at night. It's a sweet memory for her—you going out of your way just to spend some time with her, no matter how exhausted you were.

But those were all memories from the past. There's close to no chance that it would ever happen again, given your current state.

She comes by the kitchen and checks the sink. Oh, he actually listened. Thought he would wash them himself, she thought in her mind. 

Soon after, Jiyeon decides to just wash the dishes right away. Maybe it can help her to feel a little tired, distract her from overthinking about you, and hopefully fall asleep. She starts off by cleaning some utensils and small items first, before moving on to the bigger ones such as the bowls and pots she used.

Unaware to her however, is that you’re already awake.

Even when she’s not making any noise, the sounds of the tap water splashing against the sink and the bowls that clang whenever it’s placed anywhere is enough to disturb your slumber. With heavy eyes, you look behind towards the kitchen, and her figure is seen by the counter. Instinctively, you get up and walk over to her, who still wasn’t aware of your presence as she continues her chore, humming away a song of her favorite.

Another thought suddenly crosses her mind. 

Would it be funny if he actually wakes up and hugs me from behind?

“Jiyeon-ah.”

Jiyeon jumps in surprise. “Wha—” Before she realized it, you wrap your arms around her from behind, and press your head against her back. “H-Hey, what the fuck are you d-doing?!”

“Thank you for being here with me.”

Your words resonate in her ear. Her spine tingles in response. She starts to resist your embrace by moving her body violently. “Aish, stop it!”

“Why? Do you hate me?”

Fuckfuckfuckfuck! “No! Y-You’re just drunk, go back—” 

You hug her tighter, and she reacts with a gasp. The warmth of her body is so soothing. “I just wanna say my thanks.”

Her legs begin to tremble out of nervousness. Her heart goes into overdrive. Her jaw clenches. “T-There's no need to, just get off—”

All of the sudden, you turn her around by the waist and close the distance in between the both of you. Your lips then finally touch one another, and it sends Jiyeon’s mind into a blank. Her body tenses up under you, while you enjoy the softness of her lips, and the enticing smell of her fragrance even at the latest of night. Eventually, you snap back into reality.

You quickly move away, your cheeks blushing madly. “Fuck,” Your hands then left her waist. Your eyes blink multiple times, trying to make up words in your head. “I’m sorry. I... I should just leave—”

Jiyeon stops you by holding your arm before you step away. “Don’t,” Her eyes are now filled with fervor, staring at you intensely. “Stay here with me.”

There’s no turning back now. She’s letting it all out.

She takes the first step, reaching out to your neck and pulling you closer to initiate another kiss. You obviously ease into it—half of your consciousness is a blurry mess, so your body just follows along with whatever she wants. You can’t deny it either when Jiyeon deepens the kiss, fading away all of your resistance and exciting you inside.

Her body grows warmer with each small peck given, and thankfully, she’s near the counter whilst all of this is happening, so it’s easy for her to keep standing. Luckily, you notice a better solution, by lifting her up to sit on the counter. 

She yelps in surprise for a second, before getting back into another makeout session, this time with your tongue dancing together in each other’s mouth. It’s a weird addiction, even though she hated the remnants of whatever you drank hours before in your mouth. She can’t keep her hands to herself as well, as it roams around your back and your arms, feeling each muscle that you’ve worked hard to maintain.

There are no words exchanged over the couple of minutes you both make out, only breathless moans and clothes rustling are the sounds that fills the small space. But then, you escalate the intensity by trailing your kisses down her neck and collarbones. Jiyeon throws her head back as you start to suck on the smooth skin, leaving gentle hickeys that hopefully no one can notice.

“Fuck, please.” Jiyeon moans.

You stop for a while to catch some breath and look upon the view right in front of you. Even through your intoxicated vision and your impulsive behaviors, you’re still falling in love with her, and it has always been this way. Especially when she’s in this red sundress that highlights some of her best features, most notably her slim figure that she got from her ballet career. Your eyes are having a feast, full of wonder and appreciation for how gorgeous Jiyeon is. 

“You’re so pretty, Jiyeon.” 

“T-Thanks.” She blushes and looks down, failing to keep an eye contact on you. It makes you swoon for her even more, as this side of her has never been revealed to you before. Suddenly, she whines, “Hurry up, before I go back to my room!”

“Right, s-sorry.”

You decided to start with the closest part that you can reach, which is her ample breasts that conforms too well with the outfit she’s in. You're hesitant at first, but when you meet with her begging eyes once again, it shows that she wants this just as much as you do, maybe even more. 

“Mmmh, fuck,” she moans as your hands cups the irresistible pair, kneading them gently while teasing the hard nipples, visibly poking through the fabric.

Jiyeon has sought for a better ending every night that you came over. Maybe a promise to make up for everything you've done, or a sudden confession, crying out for her help. She never expected that this would be it—being in heat under him as he treats her body like an art piece, worshipping every single part of it. The heat between her thighs is unbearable, and it elevates when you pull down on the top of her dress and wrap your lips around her right nipple, licking and sucking it subtly.

“O-Oh my god, yes.” Her eyelids flutter as the massive amount of dopamine goes through her brain.

After spending a few minutes on her tits, you move down to her lower half, and her thighs rub themselves together in response to your proximity. She bites her lower lip when you begin to spread her legs and lift up her dress, uncovering her pink panties with a wet spot right in the middle of it.

You can only utter praises at how pretty and cute Jiyeon is, especially now with her whole figure being laid out for you to see. The closer you get in between her legs, the more you feel breathless. Your hot breath grazes over her thighs and her clothed heat, sending shivers down her spine. 

“Jiyeon-ah, I’m gonna take it off, okay?”

Even a simple nod of consent from her is so fucking adorable at this point. You waste no time pulling down the thin panties and throwing it away somewhere, finally revealing her pussy to your eyes, glistening with slickness. Your mouth waters once it’s in your sight, prompting you to gulp down some saliva and lick your lips, the thought of taking Jiyeon’s body for the night is making you grow hard down below. But for now, you have to finish what you have started.

“T-Touch me more, please.” she pleads.

Jiyeon twitches as soon as your fingers trails over the wet slit, drawing circles to let her leak more. You bring the finger that is stained with her nectar into your mouth, tasting the sweetest part of her. Eventually, your thirst overpowers your patience, and your lips latch upon her pussy right before you can tease her any further. 

“Oh, fuck—” She frantically looks for something to hold, and her hands grip upon your hair in an instant. “Keep going!”

Your tongue comes into the play next, lapping up all of her juices, its pace being motivated by her lustful moans. Even with a steady grip on her thighs, Jiyeon’s legs still uncontrollably shake around you, yet it didn’t stop you from stimulating her further. You kept a constant rhythm of both sucking and flicking at her sensitive spots, before finally adding your fingers to the work. 

Amidst the difficulties you’re facing—your knees pressing against the cold hard floor, trying to be on the same level as her, her strong pull on your scalp that pains you so much, especially with your headache, and the slight tightness inside your pants that is caused by your prominent erection—you’re still able to persevere through, now thrusting two digits inside of Jiyeon’s cunt. She closes her eyes, her head falls back and her moaning gets louder and clearer, the pleasure slowly but surely is going to reach its limit. You can feel how her walls convulse each time your fingers go in deep, until at one point, it grazes against her g-spot. At the same time, your thumb is able to tease her clit by pressing and circling around it, resulting in an eventual climax. 

Jiyeon cries out, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m cumming!”

She cums hard. Her body shivers violently as it happens, holding your head to make you drink up everything that she’s letting out. You try your best to take it all in, but you lose some breath and choke as you’re swallowing her juices. Her grasp on you finally weakens overtime, letting you stand back up and witness her look post-orgasm. Safe to say that you’re not disappointed at all, the way her chest heaves desperately for air and her hair that is now in a much messier state is hypnotizing at best.

You plant both of your hands beside her on the table. “You okay, Jiyeon?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Her arms are around your neck once again. “I-I want more.” She then hugs you, her eye contact filled with desperation. “I want you.”

A fire burns up inside you. You immediately carry her into your arms and bring her over to the couch, your bed just a few minutes ago. She spontaneously straddles your lap, and dives into your lips for another kiss, while her hips start to grind on your bulge. 

“Fuck, Jiyeon-ah…” you moan.

“You—mmmh, feel so big,” Jiyeon gets closer to your ear, and with a breathy voice, she asks, “Can you show it to me, please?”

There’s no need for you to nod or say yes. She moves away from you, and you swiftly take off both of your pants and underwear. Your erection stands tall at last, released from its confines. Jiyeon blushes upon seeing it for the very first time, even more so when she’s back on your lap, with it being so close to her pussy. 

“Wow, you’re—” She giggles cutely as she strokes it gently, “You’re big.”

“And you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait anymore. I need it.” Jiyeon lifts herself and lines up her folds with your shaft, its tip leaking out with precum. You tease her slit with your tip by grabbing the base of your cock, rubbing it in circles to make her yelp.

“You’re so wet, Jiyeon-ah.”

“Shut up—ahh! Now, just lay there, and le—mmh—let me fuck you.” 

Now, it’s her turn. Thanks to her wetness, she descends easily on your shaft, the tip being the first part to enter her insides. Her mouth gapes wider the lower she gets, until she stops in her tracks halfway through. This feeling of being so full is obviously her first, so it's fair that she's overwhelmed. 

“Holy shit,” you groan when she sinks fully on your cock, forcing your head to snap back. Meanwhile, Jiyeon’s body tenses up once again, screaming silently as she cums for the second time, drenching your cock with slickness. “Did you just—”

She collapses onto you, “S-Sorry… I came again.”

You calm her down by stroking her back and planting a kiss on her lips. “It’s okay. Slowly, baby.”

With her hands on your chest to stabilize herself, she begins to move her hips, her face contorting with each inch of you exploring her insides. You grit your teeth over the mix of pain and pleasure from the tightness of her walls around you, and her nails digging into your skin, desperately holding on for the ride of her life. Visible sweat is plastered on your forehead, as it becomes a challenge for you to not reach your peak this early.

Eventually, her thrusts pick up in speed, right when her moans start to increase in volume. Jiyeon has truly lost control over her body, but it is what she craves for, and she doesn’t intend to stop. If this is what will spark that change inside of you, then it was worth breaking her tough persona for. But truth be told, she doesn’t need to worry, because the feeling is mutual.

“It feels so good Jiyeon-ah, keep going…” 

Your hands snake towards her waist, guiding her into you while constantly giving her praises. You know that it’s working by how drenched your crotch feels from her juices, so you carry on while peppering kisses over the parts that you can reach. You can also imagine how good the view would look from the front, how hypnotizing her ass looks bouncing up and down your cock, rippling with each of her thrusts. 

“Almost there,” you warn Jiyeon. “Where—”

Jiyeon suddenly lunges forward and rests her head on your shoulder. “Inside, please, I need it.”

You wish that you could stop time at this point, because you expect that you can never get this feeling again. Nevertheless, the pressure inside you needs to be released soon, so you began fucking up into her as well, playing off of her fast rhythm. Her body quakes through your powerful thrusts, crying out incoherent words that describe her frantic euphoria. You suddenly feel a rough spot grazing over your shaft constantly, and it drives you even closer to your climax.

“Jiyeon-ah!”

A loud guttural groan left your throat. Your hips stop in its tracks, and you force the same onto Jiyeon by a strong grip on her ass, filling her up to the brim with ropes of your semen, deep inside her womb. As Jiyeon whines away in pleasure, falls onto your torso and hugs you tightly, the orgasm continues for a few more seconds, before it ends with the last spurt, adding to the extreme amount inside of her. All of your muscles relax as you lean back on the couch, sweaty and panting heavily.

“Thank you, Jiyeon, thank you for taking care of me...” you uttered weakly. In between breaths, your melting brain implies you to say, “I promise, I’ll change, for you.” 

Jiyeon comes alive upon hearing your words. “R-Really?”

You nod, but your eyelids start to feel heavy. Without pulling out of her or moving to a better position, you immediately black out, the exhaustion from everything finally comes to an effect. Jiyeon realizes that you’ve fallen asleep, though she doesn't proceed to pull herself away as expected, and instead snuggles along into the crook of your neck.

“Good night, honey.”

— 

It's a new day.

The bright sunlight beaming at your face wakes you up from the deep slumber. Your eyes still feel heavy, and your head is still a huge mess. As you get up slowly and scan your surroundings, you realize that something is off.

You’re not in your house.

The gravity of the situation finally fills your mind. You look around the familiar living room and notice that the balcony is open.

She’s there.

Regret fills your heart instantly. But you’re ready to take the responsibility. It’s your fault after all.

With a heavy sigh, you walk over to the balcony. 

Jiyeon is enjoying the scenery with a cup of coffee in her hand. You can't really tell what she's thinking from afar, but she seems calm and rather happy. Like nothing ever happened last night.

Before you can enter the balcony, she notices you first, “Good morning.”

“M-Morning, Jiyeon.”

Still looking out to the view, she says, “There's some coffee in the kitchen. Treat yourself.”

You scratch your nape, feeling a little awkward and confused at her behavior. This wasn't the Jiyeon that you know. “You're not gonna lash out on me or anything?”

“I’ve done enough.”

“What?”

Her face expresses disappointment, as she sighs and finally looks at you. “Pabo-ya, don't you remember what happened last night?”

“Uhh,” you hesitate. “We fucked.”

Her cheeks flushed red in an instant. “That’s not what I was pointing to! Pabo.”

“S-Sorry, I can't remember much details. My head is still in a blur.”

“Goddamnit.”

After placing her cup on the table, she gets closer to you and leans her head on your chest. Your eyes widen in shock as she buries her face into you more. “J-Jiyeon?”

“You promised me that you’ll stop hurting yourself, to change.” she says as she looks up to you. 

The view of Jiyeon in your embrace sends butterflies in your stomach. Her visuals have always been a heart stealer for anyone. Not to mention, you feel a sense of warmth when looking upon her eyes. It floods you with even more regret, realizing how much she has done for you, just to keep your heart afloat. 

“Sorry. I’ll try my best. As long as—” 

Jiyeon smiles, “I’ll always be there for you.”

Your arms instinctively wraps itself around her figure, and she melts into you, hugging you back tighter. In that moment, you place a hope inside your heart, tying the promise that you swear in front of Jiyeon. That is, to throw away your bad behaviors and strive to become a better person for yourself, and for her.

“By the way, do you know what day it is?” 

You check your watch, and your heart sinks. “13 February…”

Jiyeon pouts her lips. “Mhm.”

“Shit, I didn't get you anything for your birthday.”

“It's alright,” She kisses you on the lips. “I’ll take last night as my gift.” 

“Well, we can do it again if you want,” you whisper in her ear.

“S-Stop that!” You giggle away at her flustered reaction.

“Happy birthday, Jiyeon.”

===========================================

note; shut up, i know i'm a little late to the party, but happy birthday to our swan princess jiyeon! i had this draft sitting in the basement for a while, and figured now is the perfect time to kind of kill force myself to write it out. didn't think that i could cram over 5k, but it is completely unedited because i wanted to finish it quick lmao

btw there will be another story coming out pretty soon, which is the one that i have been working on for a fuckton of time. it's my longest one yet, so i hope you guys will look forward to it!

as always, thanks for reading, and hope yall have a beautiful day! <3 i'm gonna go to sleep now it's 2 am help-

[thedensworld]

Illogical Project | C.Sc

Pairing: Ceo! Seungcheol x reader

Genre: fluff, humor, stranger to crush

Summary: It was just a project to get rid of a side chick, but Seungcheol fall. Deeply.

I was having so much fun writing this! Part 2 yall ask is here

Seungcheol didn’t have to do this. But he needed to do it. Logic flew right out the window the moment he’d typed your name into the company group website. Imagine his surprise when your profile popped up, revealing you were part of the marketing team—under his own label, no less.

The woman sneaking around with his cousin’s fiancé was one of his employees?

Seungcheol let out a dry laugh. Well, this just got interesting. It shouldn’t be too hard to get rid of you.

It has been two years since Jiyeon, his cousin, and Jeonghan got engaged. Their engagement had been more of a business deal than a love story. And although Jiyeon’s engagement to Jeonghan was supposed to be purely transactional, it had been a lifesaver for Seungcheol. Thanks to her, he no longer had to endure his grandfather’s endless nagging about getting married.

But then, yesterday happened.

“Jeonghan’s been cheating on me!” Jiyeon had wailed, storming into his office like a whirlwind. Seungcheol hadn’t thought much of it—Jiyeon tended to exaggerate. He’d been about to brush it off with some nonchalant comment until she hit him with: “I think I’m going to call off the engagement.”

Hold up. What?

That wasn’t part of the plan. Jiyeon couldn’t break off the engagement! Without it, Seungcheol’s peace and freedom would go down the drain. He’d be right back to enduring those endless blind dates set up by his grandfather. Dinners with girls whose names he’d forget before dessert even arrived. Absolutely not.

Which led him to this moment, finding you—Jeonghan’s secret girlfriend. His smirk widened. If cutting you out of the picture meant keeping Jiyeon on board, then so be it. He’d convince you to take your cheating ways elsewhere.

Who would’ve thought his biggest problem was one of his own subordinates?

If anyone could see him now—Seungcheol, the company CEO, scrolling through employee profiles like a suspicious boyfriend—it would be mortifying. But hey, desperate times called for desperate measures. And there was no way he was letting his hard-earned freedom slip away because of Jeonghan’s wandering eyes and your sneaky rendezvous.

*

"Mr. Choi has been acting strange lately," your manager said as she returned from his office, a puzzled look on her face.

"He’s refused every ad plan we’ve pitched to him. And now he’s specifically asked for you to handle it."

Your brows shot up in surprise as you pointed at yourself. “Me?”

“Yes, you. He wants you in his office in ten minutes—with the best idea you can bring to the table.”

“Wait, ten minutes?!” You shot up from your chair, scrambling to find the folder you always kept at your desk. Panic set in as you grabbed your iPad—your lifeline filled with every concept, draft, and half-baked idea you’d ever had. “Why are you just telling me this now?”

Ms. Shin shrugged nonchalantly, already turning her attention back to her own tasks. “It slipped my mind. Good luck!”

You let out a frustrated sigh. Typical Ms. Shin. She was a perpetual headache wrapped up in business casual attire. Just yesterday, she’d dumped her entire presentation prep on you, claiming she was “too busy” to handle it herself. Never mind the fact that you were the one who’d developed almost every campaign concept the department had used for the past two years.

But still, you remained a shadow. Despite your efforts, you were practically invisible in the department—overworked and unnoticed.

As you rushed to the elevator, the thought crossed your mind: Why did Mr. Choi want to see you now?

Was he starting to see through Ms. Shin’s facade and realize where the real work was coming from? Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety. This could either be a breakthrough… or a complete disaster.

Jeonghan used to tell you a lot about Seungcheol, his college friend. From what you’d heard, Seungcheol was the embodiment of professionalism. He wouldn’t judge you for staying in the shadows to support your boss all these years, but that didn’t make him any less intimidating. The truth was, you didn’t know him well enough to understand what went on in his mind.

To you, Mr. Choi was just your boss’s boss—the executive you occasionally spotted from a distance as he strode through the office with that air of authority and responsibility. He was the face of Heidos Food, a man who commanded respect and led by example. His dedication and work ethic were part of the reason you’d decided to join this label among the Heidos Group’s many subsidiaries.

Taking a deep breath, you managed a smile at his secretary. “Mr. Choi is expecting me,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

The secretary gave a curt nod and led you to the door. You couldn’t help but feel small as you stood before it, staring at the imposing wood panel. The secretary knocked gently and stepped aside, motioning for you to enter.

This was it—your first time stepping into the office of the man who practically ran the entire division.

Your heart pounded wildly in your chest as you took a deep breath and stepped inside.

What could he possibly want from me?

"It was disappointing, Ms. Ji."

Your heart sank as Mr. Choi’s voice sliced through the silence after you wrapped up the impromptu presentation.

“I don’t see your idea being as innovative as I expected. The format feels repetitive—similar to every program the marketing department has produced over the past few years.”

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to argue. How could you not? Internally, you were screaming. Of course, everything looked the same—they were all your ideas! Yet, it wasn’t like you could point that out to him.

Instead, you forced yourself to respond with a calm, “I’m sorry, sir.”

Mr. Choi tapped his pen thoughtfully against the desk, his gaze never leaving your face. “But,” he continued slowly, “it does have potential. It just needs a bit more… observation and refinement. Do you think you can handle this project, Ms. Ji? It’s rather risky.”

His question caught you off guard. Risky? Since when did Mr. Choi—who typically preferred playing it safe—assign risky projects to subordinates? Still, you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away.

“I’m confident I can handle it, sir. If you trust me, I’ll deliver.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he nodded. “Good. In that case, pack some clothes. We’re going to Singapore for a seminar tomorrow.”

What?!

You blinked at him, stunned. Singapore? Tomorrow? You hadn’t even processed what just happened before he dismissed you, turning his attention back to his paperwork as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

*

Seungcheol had no idea where your confidence came from. He’d incidentally overheard your phone conversation with Jeonghan earlier, and it was all sweet and annoyingly romantic.

Alright, maybe it wasn’t exactly accidental. Maybe he intentionally eavesdropped—just a little—but who could blame him? He couldn’t believe how bold you were to have such an intimate call with Jeonghan right in front of him.

So, people are right when they say love is thrilling when you’re playing with fire, he mused, his annoyance growing.

"You should pay attention to her more," he heard you say, your voice dropping to a softer tone that made Seungcheol’s scowl deepen.

Then you added, with a laugh that sounded entirely too carefree, "You’re right, I’m the better companion."

He felt his jaw clench involuntarily. Companion, huh? The nerve of you—being all cozy with Jeonghan right under his nose. He was already irritated by this whole situation, but now he had to endure your lovey-dovey chatter too?

“Alright, I gotta go. Bye... Have a nice day!” you finished, your voice as sweet as honey.

The moment you hung up, Seungcheol snapped himself into a more composed posture, acting as if he hadn’t just been caught leaning against the wall, listening like a gossip. He made a show of dropping himself onto the couch in front of you.

To his further irritation, you looked up with an even brighter smile.

“What should I do today, sir?” you asked, voice cheerful and professional, as if you hadn’t just been caught cooing over the phone.

Seungcheol had to think. There was really nothing too strenuous on the agenda for you today, but a part of him—call it the vindictive part—wanted to see you squirm, especially after witnessing your little show of affection for Jeonghan.

“Take notes on everything,” he ordered, watching your expression closely. “Mingle with everyone. Join every discussion. Since I’ll be attending a separate meeting, make sure you don’t make a fool out of our company. Got it?”

You nodded and jotted everything down like the diligent employee you were. “Okay, noted, sir.”

Seungcheol let out a sigh, not quite satisfied with the reaction—or lack thereof. “Can I trust you with this?”

Your smile remained unwavering as you met his gaze. “Don’t worry, sir. I’ll let you know if I need anything.”

Something about your calm composure only made him want to push you further.

How could you be this unbothered?

On the last day of the seminar, Seungcheol could hardly believe it when his company was presented with an award of appreciation—all thanks to your hard work over the past few days. He had known you were good, but he hadn’t expected you to exceed everyone’s expectations this much.

But what truly grated on his nerves was the way people kept talking about you: “That woman with brains, bravery, and beauty,” they said, almost in awe.

Is this a business seminar or some kind of beauty pageant? he grumbled internally, irritated by how many times he’d heard those words. Every time someone praised your creativity and wit, it felt like another jab. Yet, even he couldn’t deny you deserved the recognition. The achievement might have been unexpected, but it wasn’t entirely surprising.

Now, he found himself sitting at a high-end restaurant for lunch, just hours before their flight back to South Korea. You sat stiffly across from him, clearly uncomfortable. After refusing his invitation five times and trying to hitch a ride to the airport with his secretary instead, here you were—reluctantly.

“You can choose whatever you’d like, Ms. Ji. You’ve earned it,” Seungcheol said, not looking up from his menu as he spoke.

You mumbled a polite acknowledgment, your gaze glued to the menu. Seungcheol raised his hand to call the waitress over and glanced at you, waiting for your order. His eyes widened in surprise when you rattled off your request in perfect, fluent Malay.

“Wait—you can speak the language?” he asked, caught off guard.

You nodded casually. “Yes, I studied and graduated here.”

“Hmm,” Seungcheol murmured thoughtfully. He tapped his fingers against the table, considering your response. “With that kind of portfolio, you could easily settle into a bigger company. Why stay at Heidos Food?”

To his surprise, you shook your head, rejecting the notion. “No, Heidos Food is the perfect fit for me.”

Seungcheol raised a brow. He couldn’t tell if you were just being polite or genuinely meant it. “And why is that?”

You paused, looking a little hesitant before speaking. “Five years ago, I had just graduated, and I attended the company’s anniversary event with someone I knew. I saw your speech there—it was incredible. It motivated me to become a part of Heidos Foods. I applied several times, went through multiple interviews, and finally got my position three years ago.”

Seungcheol didn’t like the way your story painted him as an integral figure in your career choice. He didn’t want to think he was that important. And yet, there was no denying that something about the way you spoke made him pause. He found himself strangely flattered—and maybe a little more intrigued than he wanted to admit.

He glanced away, clearing his throat. Stop it, Seungcheol. She’s not special.

But the thought wouldn’t leave him. He kept stealing glances at you, wondering how he had overlooked these little details about you. Maybe there really was something to what everyone kept saying: brains, bravery, and beauty—all rolled into one package.

No, he told himself sternly. Focus.

Slowly, Seungcheol found himself losing sight of his initial motive for getting to know you better—the desire to uncover the truth behind your connection with Jeonghan. As he spent more time with you, your charm and intelligence began to weave a spell around him, shifting his focus from suspicion to genuine curiosity.

The more he learned about you, the more he realized how difficult it was to see you as just a subordinate or a rival in Jeonghan’s affections.

He hadn’t planned on feeling this way, and it unsettled him. What started as a calculated move to monitor your interactions had transformed into something entirely different.

Seungcheol caught himself daydreaming about your conversations, replaying moments that made him smile. He was drawn to you in ways he hadn’t expected, and that realization left him both exhilarated and confused.

As his initial purpose faded into the background, a new question took root in his mind: What if getting close to you had become the most intriguing project of all?

*

“Can you send Ms. Ji to my office after this? There’s something I need to discuss with her.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but she just left the building a few minutes ago due to personal business. She didn’t provide any details.”

Seungcheol nodded in frustration as Ms. Shin, your manager, wrapped up her paperwork. It had been two weeks since the two of you returned from the business trip, and he still found himself at a crossroads. He was working diligently to create a void that would justify getting rid of you, especially concerning your relationship with Jeonghan.

Alright, if he could be honest; he didn’t want to lose a gem like you from the company. The idea of you being Jeonghan’s “side chick” was almost infuriating, especially given your intelligence and undeniable beauty.

Yeah, Seungcheol couldn’t deny that your beauty truly shone when you were focused on your work, and he found it charming every time he handed you a new challenge.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a call from Jiyeon, his cousin. He picked it up, immediately greeted by her sobs.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Jeonghan…” Jiyeon cried, her voice trembling as she choked out his name.

“What did that bastard do now?”

There was no immediate response, just the sound of her muffled cries. Then, through the tears, Seungcheol finally heard her say, “He had a car accident after we fought. He’s in the hospital now.”

Within moments, Seungcheol found himself standing outside the operating room with Jiyeon by his side. To his surprise, he spotted you sitting quietly in a corner, clearly distressed. So here you were, the “personal business” Ms. Shin had mentioned.

“Let’s get you something to drink,” he said gently, placing a reassuring hand on Jiyeon’s shoulder and guiding her away from the waiting area. He handed her a can of soda as they sat down together.

“We fought on the phone,” Jiyeon explained, her voice still shaky. “I mentioned his side chick, and he denied it. He said he had no one besides me. I didn’t believe him, and then he said he would explain everything when he came to my office, but he got into a car accident.”

Seungcheol nodded, processing her words. “Y/N was there,” he said, gesturing toward you in the corner. “Y/N. She’s the one Jeonghan was supposedly seeing,” he added, his voice laced with confusion.

Jiyeon’s brow furrowed in frustration as she shook her head. “No, they are siblings. They have the same mother,” she sobbed, her voice breaking under the weight of her emotions.

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What? They’re siblings?”

“Yes,” Jiyeon replied, her expression a mixture of sadness and relief. “That explains everything. I thought he was cheating on me, but it turns out he was just trying to protect her.”

The weight of this shocking revelation shifted the tension in the room, leaving both of them momentarily speechless. Seungcheol leaned back against the wall, trying to digest the news.

Jiyeon wiped her tears, glancing toward you again. “I need to talk to her,” she said, determination filling her voice. “She deserves an explanation.”

Seungcheol nodded in agreement, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. Maybe this would clear the air and mend the rift between you.

*

"Has she done this a lot to you?" Seungcheol heard your voice coming from inside the room as he and Jiyeon were about to enter. Both of them paused instinctively, hovering just outside the door.

"She accused you of cheating. She put you in this situation!" Your tone was laced with a rage Seungcheol had never heard from you before. There was an intensity, a fierceness in your voice that was completely unfamiliar to him.

"I could’ve lost you…”

Jeonghan’s voice was soft, barely audible, as if trying to calm you down. “I’m fine, Y/N. I promise. It’s not her fault.”

Jiyeon, who had been poised to enter the room, suddenly froze, her eyes widening in realization. She glanced at Seungcheol, and he could see the confusion and guilt reflecting in her gaze. Before she could turn away, you stepped out of the room, your eyes red and swollen. The sight of Seungcheol and Jiyeon standing there, having clearly overheard the conversation, caught you off guard, but you quickly composed yourself.

You cleared your throat and walked past them with your head held high, your expression a perfect mask of indifference, as if you didn’t realize—or perhaps didn’t care—that they’d been listening in.

Seungcheol watched you go, his mind spinning. He couldn’t help but be reminded of the college days when he and Jeonghan had shared a dorm room. As the only Korean students on campus, they naturally gravitated toward each other. He recalled Jeonghan often mentioning his younger sister—a sibling from the same mother who was in middle school at the time. Seungcheol had never met her, but from Jeonghan’s stories, it was clear how much he treasured her.

"I get a headache every time she doesn’t pick up my call!" Jeonghan would grumble late at night, throwing his phone down in frustration. “She’s so stubborn, but she’s all I’ve got.”

And now, it all clicked into place. The sister Jeonghan had spoken of so fondly, the one he worried about constantly, was you. You, the woman who had captivated his attention with your intelligence and charm, were Jeonghan’s sister. Someone who had been right under his nose this entire time.

*

The hum of the office printer was the only sound in the room as you carefully gathered the documents you needed to submit. Steeling yourself, you walked to Seungcheol’s office and knocked gently before stepping inside.

Seungcheol glanced up from his computer when he heard the door open. The usual lighthearted banter that had developed between the two of you was noticeably absent as you approached his desk and placed the file in front of him.

“Here’s the proposal, sir. It needs your signature,” you said softly, keeping your eyes on the document and not on him.

Seungcheol picked up the pen, his gaze shifting between the file and your calm, composed demeanor. After scribbling his signature on the dotted line, he cleared his throat, an awkward tension hanging between you two.

“Is… Jeonghan doing better?” Seungcheol asked cautiously, trying to keep the conversation going.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice finally holding a hint of warmth. “He’s recovering well. The doctors said he’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

Seungcheol nodded, a small wave of relief washing over him. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad he’s getting better. If you need more time off, just let me know. I know you’ve been the one taking care of him.”

You shook your head gently. “No, thank you. There’s already an assigned nurse for him. I’ll be back to work as usual.”

The air between you two was thick with unspoken words and awkwardness. Seungcheol felt the weight of everything he had said and done, of the suspicion that had once tainted every interaction he’d had with you. He knew it was his fault the dynamic between you had shifted so drastically, and now, he was fumbling, unsure of how to bridge the gap he had created.

“I—” Seungcheol hesitated, his usual poise and confidence faltering. “I know I messed up… and I don’t blame you if things don’t go back to the way they were. I just… I miss the way we used to work together, the way we used to talk.”

You blinked, taken aback by his admission. But even then, you didn’t respond with the same enthusiasm you used to. Instead, you offered him a small, understanding smile.

“Thank you for understanding, sir,” was all you said before you excused yourself and walked out of his office.

Seungcheol watched you go, the emptiness in his chest expanding. He had been wrong—terribly, embarrassingly wrong—and now he was paying the price for his foolish assumptions. He had shattered the easy camaraderie that once existed between you, and now, he was left with the cold, polite exchanges that felt more like a punishment than anything else.

You were here, right in front of him, but you felt more distant than ever.

*

You knew exactly what had been happening to you, but you tried to deny it until it finally affected you like it did today. Ms. Shin had already lectured you with words you never imagined she would use, all because of a rare moment of clumsiness that you didn’t even see coming. You had too much on your plate, and the project Mr. Choi had assigned to you was nearing its deadline. In the midst of it all, you accidentally forgot to send an anniversary message to one of your most loyal clients, and Ms. Shin had to do damage control.

“They were very offended, Y/N,” Ms. Shin snapped, her voice carrying throughout the office as she reprimanded you in front of everyone. You stood there, hands clasped in front of you, listening to her and internally cursing yourself for letting things slip, all because you couldn’t get Mr. Choi’s words out of your mind.

“I miss the way we used to work together.”

“I miss—”

“I’ll be reporting this to HR. I can’t handle this kind of negligence anymore.” Ms. Shin concluded sharply, her words reverberating through the office. A collective gasp came from your colleagues, who were too stunned to react.

Later that day, you found yourself sitting in the HR director’s office, replaying Ms. Shin’s words in your mind. You expected another round of the same scolding, but what came next blindsided you completely.

“We’ve received reports about you neglecting your responsibilities over the past three months, and unfortunately, we can’t tolerate this any longer. Please clear your desk before the workday ends,” the HR director said, his tone dismissive.

“What?” The shock was apparent on your face. No warning letter, no opportunity to explain—just an immediate termination.

“You’re firing me?” you whispered, still in disbelief.

“Effective immediately.” His tone was final, and there was no room for negotiation. You were jobless. Just like that.

You felt a scream building up inside you, a storm of emotions you didn’t know how to release. Anger, frustration, betrayal—every word they’d said felt unfair, and you were powerless to fight it. Who were you to contest it? Just another employee, replaceable, forgotten.

By the time you made it home, Jeonghan was the first to greet you, his face lighting up in surprise. “You’re home early?” he chirped, clearly not expecting you at this hour. Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, he had been staying at your place, recovering until he could get around without any help.

His smile quickly faded when he noticed the cardboard box in your hands. His expression crumpled with worry as you dropped the box onto the table with a heavy thud. “Are you… fired?” Jeonghan asked hesitantly, as if he couldn’t believe his own words.

You nodded, letting out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, they fired me. Fuck Heidos. I’m going to start my own advertising company!”

Jeonghan blinked, caught off guard by your outburst. “Alright, slow down. I appreciate the enthusiasm, but what happened?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

You shrugged, collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. The last thing you wanted was to relive today’s events by recounting them to your brother. You just wanted to forget.

“Does Seungcheol know about this?” Jeonghan pressed on, not noticing how drained you were. “He told me you were handling a project together. Was this his decision?”

“Do you need a marketing staff?” you deflected, throwing the question back at him, trying to steer the conversation away.

“No, I don’t. But if you’re interested, I can make some room for you.”

You shook your head immediately. The last thing you wanted was to work for your brother’s company out of pity or nepotism. It wasn’t like you hadn’t considered it before, but joining his business now would feel like a defeat.

“I told you, you could’ve joined my company from the start,” Jeonghan murmured softly, his tone far gentler than before. “The Heidos you were so proud of has finally turned its back on you, huh?”

You groaned and stood up abruptly, your heavy steps echoing through the small living room as you stormed off to your bedroom. You slammed the door behind you, cutting off whatever else Jeonghan had to say.

“Yeah, Heidos finally threw me out,” you muttered bitterly to yourself as you leaned against the door. The company you had dreamed of working for, the place you’d given your blood, sweat, and tears for over the years—had thrown you out without so much as a second thought.

You took a deep breath, but it didn’t ease the tightness in your chest. This was the company you had stayed up nights for, the one you’d gone above and beyond for every single day. You’d fought your way in, made a name for yourself, only to be discarded like you were nothing.

And all you could think about was how everything had spiraled ever since that conversation with Seungcheol. How his simple words had shaken your confidence, distracted you, and caused this downward spiral.

But the worst part?

You still cared what he thought.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall as Jeonghan's words replayed in your mind, taunting you.

Heidos finally turned its back on you.

Was that it, though? Was it really the company you were angry with? Or was there something more?

Your gaze dropped to the floor as a bitter realization crept in. Were you really interested in Heidos all along? Or was it Mr. Choi?

You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath, your thoughts drifting back to the first time you saw him in person. It was during Heidos’s anniversary gala, a grand event that showcased the company's milestones.

But there he was—Choi Seungcheol, the CEO’s son, standing on the grand stage, delivering a speech with the kind of charisma that made everyone hang on to his every word. He talked about vision, about passion, about how Heidos wasn’t just a business—it was a dream they all built together.

You remembered the way his eyes scanned the room as if acknowledging everyone’s efforts personally, his voice carrying conviction and authority. He seemed approachable yet untouchable at the same time. There was a spark in him that drew you in, like a flame you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by, even if it meant risking getting burned.

When he mentioned the value of individual contributions, you couldn’t help but imagine yourself as one of those valued employees he spoke of. That night, you had felt an overwhelming sense of pride, a hope that you, too, could be part of something bigger. Part of his vision. It made you work harder, push through every obstacle, and make a name for yourself in the company.

But what if, beneath all those aspirations, it was his approval you were really after?

Had it always been about earning a place at Heidos, or had it been about being acknowledged by him? Did your heart race because of the accomplishments, or was it because of the fleeting interactions you had with him?

You tried to shake off the thoughts, but the memories kept flooding back.

There was the time he complimented your work during a company meeting, the way he’d asked for your opinion during a discussion, and, of course, the project where you saw a different side of him—where he was more than just the stern, high-and-mighty executive everyone knew him as.

"I miss the way we used to work together."

His words echoed in your mind, laced with regret and something you couldn’t quite place. Had you let those words affect you more than they should have? Had you crossed a line somewhere between professionalism and personal admiration?

You huffed out a breath and rubbed your face with your hands. It was hard to admit, but maybe you were chasing after more than just a career.

Maybe it was a person.

“Are you really that naive?” you muttered to yourself, almost laughing at how pathetic it sounded. “You got yourself fired because you couldn’t get over a few words from Choi Seungcheol. Great job, Y/N.”

What had you been thinking? That you meant something more to him? That the way he looked at you was anything other than superficial interest? Maybe you’d been reading into things too much, letting your emotions cloud your judgment.

After all, the way he’d treated you—suspicious, distrustful, wary—it all pointed to how little he thought of you. You were a pawn in his game of protecting Jiyeon. The only reason he ever looked your way was because he thought you were a threat.

And yet… you wanted to believe there had been something more. Something genuine. But now, everything felt tainted.

Because if Heidos was no longer an option, then you’d just have to prove to yourself that you could rise even without the company’s name backing you up.

But first, you’d have to figure out a way to keep your heart in check—especially when it came to him.

“Forget it, Y/N,” you whispered to yourself, staring at your reflection in the bedroom mirror. “Forget about Choi Seungcheol. He was never part of your plan, anyway.”

*

It was his first day back in the office after a week-long business trip, and Seungcheol finally had a chance to sit down and get back into his routine. His secretary entered the room with his usual coffee, already prepared with a list of updates and meetings for the day. He rattled them off efficiently, detailing every appointment and task Seungcheol needed to be aware of.

“I want to know the update on the project Ms. Ji is handling,” Seungcheol said, glancing at the folder in front of him, half-expecting to see her familiar name.

There was a brief pause, and when his secretary responded, the answer was something Seungcheol never anticipated.

“She’s no longer part of our staff, sir.”

Seungcheol frowned, a flicker of confusion crossing his features. “What do you mean?” he asked, the question carrying a sharp edge.

“She was terminated a week ago due to negligence in fulfilling her responsibilities,” the secretary explained carefully. “The report came from Ms. Shin, and HR approved it immediately.”

Seungcheol’s scowl deepened, the irritation evident in the tightening of his jaw. He leaned back in his chair, processing the information. “Ms. Ji was managing a critical project with me,” he said, his voice lowering. “Her status required my approval. How is it possible I wasn’t informed about this?”

His secretary’s shoulders tensed, and he hesitated before replying, “I’m terribly sorry, sir. You were occupied with meetings and engagements throughout the week, and I only received the details two days ago myself.”

“Busy or not, I should have been notified immediately.” Seungcheol’s voice was dangerously calm. He glanced at the stack of files on his desk, his mind already racing to piece together what could’ve gone wrong. “I want Ms. Shin and Mr. Kim from HR in my office—now.”

“Yes, sir,” the secretary replied quickly, bowing slightly before leaving the room to carry out Seungcheol’s orders.

Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to the half-empty coffee cup, his thoughts a blur of anger and disbelief. Fired? For negligence? That didn’t add up. He knew you weren't perfect, but you were dedicated and thorough. You had handled complex projects before, and while you had your flaws, negligence was never one of them.

Something wasn’t right.

The door opened again a few minutes later, and Ms. Shin walked in, followed closely by Mr. Kim. Both looked apprehensive, likely sensing the storm brewing from the tension in the air.

“Explain,” Seungcheol said without preamble, his eyes fixed on Ms. Shin. “Why was Ms. Ji terminated, and why was I not informed?”

Ms. Shin cleared her throat, meeting his gaze with a strained smile. “Sir, there were multiple instances where Ms. Ji failed to meet her deadlines and deliverables, which impacted the team’s performance. I reported this to HR, and after reviewing her recent performance records, they decided to let her go.”

“And whose idea was it to keep this from me?” Seungcheol’s voice was low and dangerous.

“We didn’t intend to keep it from you, sir,” Mr. Kim interjected cautiously.

“The decision was made quickly due to the urgency of the situation. Given that you were away and Ms. Shin was the acting supervisor for that period, we thought it best to handle it internally until we could brief you properly.”

Seungcheol’s gaze shifted between the two of them, his displeasure evident. “I don’t appreciate decisions being made without my knowledge, especially when it concerns a project directly under my supervision. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they both answered in unison, looking visibly uncomfortable.

“Ms. Ji was fired without a formal warning or disciplinary review?” Seungcheol continued, his voice hardening. “Was she given no chance to explain herself or defend her performance?”

Ms. Shin shifted uneasily, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. “Sir, she had been making several mistakes, and her focus seemed to be elsewhere. It was affecting her work quality. We couldn’t afford to let it slide any longer.”

“Was this decision truly about her work, or something else?” Seungcheol pressed, his gaze narrowing. “Because from what I’ve seen, she was one of the most consistent performers on the team. I want a full report on the matter by the end of today.”

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Kim replied quickly, while Ms. Shin’s jaw tightened, her frustration barely masked.

“Dismissed,” Seungcheol said curtly, waving them out of his office.

*

You practically jumped out of your bed when you saw an incoming call from Mr. Choi flash across your phone screen. Heart racing, you scrambled to sit up straight before answering.

“I’m outside your place.”

What?

You blinked, staring at yourself in the mirror in disbelief. Just moments ago, you had been in a post-drama-marathon daze, slouched in bed after indulging in a series binge you could never afford the time for before. And now, the very man who occupied your thoughts far more than he should—the Choi Seungcheol—was calling to announce that he was outside your apartment?

“Uh—can you give me ten minutes? I’m not exactly looking presentable at the moment,” you stammered, glancing down at your wrinkled pajamas and messy hair. Your reflection screamed “I-just-woke-up” and “don’t-look-at-me”.

“I—what I mean is!” You quickly corrected yourself, flustered. “I just woke up, so I might look a little… disgusting.”

The last word fell out awkwardly, and you cringed inwardly. Of all the words you could’ve chosen…

“Take your time, Ms. Ji.” His voice was calm, almost amused. You heard the call click off, leaving you in stunned silence.

Oh God, what was he doing here?

You dashed into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face in record time. The face staring back at you looked different now—the long hair you used to style meticulously was gone, impulsively cut to shoulder length last week in a fit of frustration and exhaustion. You sighed and brushed it diligently, making it look as presentable as possible. Changing out of your pajamas into something more decent—a casual blouse and jeans—you took a deep breath before heading outside.

Stepping out of your building, you spotted his sleek car parked along the road, and there he was—slipping out of the driver’s seat, looking effortlessly handsome despite the casualness of his attire. His usual sharp suit was gone, replaced by a simple white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even without the formal suit jacket, his presence seemed to dominate the entire street. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, struggling to reconcile this man’s unexpected appearance outside your home with the same person you admired from afar at work.

Focus, Y/N.

“How are you?” Seungcheol asked, his gaze soft as it met yours.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer verbally, so you just nodded stiffly, offering a tight smile. The truth was, you weren’t okay—not even close. And a part of you wanted him to understand that without you having to spell it out. But another part of you was wary, unsure how much he even knew or cared about what happened.

“I just found out about your termination this morning,” he began, and you blinked in surprise. You hadn’t expected this to be the topic of conversation. “I’m so sorry.”

You stood there, rooted in place as you stared at him. What was going on?

“I shouldn’t have let Ms. Shin handle things like that,” he continued, voice low, the frustration evident in his tone. “I knew she’s been trying to drag you down all this time. I knew you were the one carrying the department, handling all the toughest projects… That’s why I’m sorry.”

The Choi Seungcheol, the man who exuded confidence and charisma at every turn, now looked uncharacteristically small and uncertain standing before you. The apology caught you off guard. You had prepared yourself for cold professionalism, or maybe even indifference. But not this.

“I won’t force you to come back to the company,” he said gently. “That’s entirely your choice.”

He paused, looking as if he was weighing his next words carefully, then took a deep breath. “But I don’t want to lose the chance to tell you…”

Your heart thumped loudly in your chest as his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to breathe.

“I might like you,” he confessed, his voice almost a whisper. “Romantically.”

What?!

The world seemed to freeze around you as you stared at him, your mind racing to process his words. Seungcheol… liked you? The very same Choi Seungcheol who spent years being distant and impossible to read? He liked you, romantically? This couldn’t be real.

“I—I don’t know when it happened,” he continued, his expression a mixture of vulnerability and resolve. “But somewhere along the way, I realized I was looking forward to seeing you every day. You were more than just a competent employee; you were someone I admired. And then… I started to miss you.”

The sincerity in his words left you speechless. You glanced down, unable to meet his gaze as you tried to figure out what to say. Was it possible that you hadn’t just admired him from afar but had harbored deeper feelings too?

“I understand if this is too much for you right now,” he said softly, stepping back as if to give you space. “I just needed you to know… I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when I should’ve been. And I’m sorry that you had to go through all of this because of me.”

His voice was gentle, and for a moment, the street around you seemed to blur, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in this unexpected moment.

What could you possibly say? Words failed you, so you did the only thing you could—you nodded, acknowledging his apology and his confession, still unsure if you were dreaming or awake.

“Thank you… for telling me,” you managed to say quietly.

Things could never go back to the way they used to be.

[mygnolia]

TURNING YOU INTO A REAL CATCH!

꩜ .ᐟ in a hopeful attempt to show your ex of three years that you're moving on, you turn to sim jaeyun, aka hybe’s most popular jock, with expectations that he’ll boost your status in your school's social hierarchy. only problem is, jake's gone 18 years without dating, so how do you get him to up his game for his first real girlfriend? this certainly was not on your bucket list!

꩜ .ᐟ PAIR -› soccer player!sim jaeyun x fem!reader

꩜ .ᐟ GENRE -› fluff, banter ꩜ .ᐟ TROPES -› fake dating, strangers to lovers

꩜ .ᐟ WARNINGS  -› cursing, kms/kys jokes, stereotypical hs culture bc i am writer

꩜ .ᐟ TAGLIST -› open! comment on this post or send an ask! LIBRARY

꩜ PROFILES .ᐟ 6ft eco-friendly feminists | ball toucherz

00. teaser!

01. business? yeah i stand on that

02. ghosted like a side chick

03. more to be added…

04. more to be added...

05. more to be added...

꩜ .ᐟ REN SAYS... i'm rlly excited to start this tbh also first non hoon smau like WHO CHEERED???? HELP??? i hope u likey and i actually have a fleshed out idea for this don't play..

꩜ .ᐟ TAGLIST  (if you're tagged here you'll be tagged in future chapters!) -› @pinknjm @planetkiimchi @wonsdoll @dreamiestay @dismaldiary @duckling-niki @miszes @50-husbands @jakeyverse @heartheejake @t0asterexe @sirens-dreams @nshmurarki @i03jae @sol3chu @jiyeons-closet @thesassy-mia @tocupid @coqhee @riribelle @heartedmessages @haechsworld @breadlover01 @who-tf-soddhi @thing89 @r1kification @getoxo @augustloaf @pshwrldd @belovedsthings @pochakkeu @wonmyheart @heyniki @manuosorioh @xienoe

[flwrstqr]

[박성훈] ✧ ₊ BAD IDEA RIGHT? P.SH x F!READER

SEEING YOU TONIGHT : after your breakup with sunghoon, you write a heartfelt song that goes viral. unexpectedly, sunghoon accidentally posts a video with your song, captioning it "relatable song?". an unexpected opportunity to get back together. " yes, i know that he's my ex, but can't two people reconnect?"

✶ PAiRiNG 🎀 idol!sunghoon x pop singer fem!reader

FEATURiNG〻 yoonchae jeong (katseye), park minju (illit), lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, kim sunoo, yang jungwon, nishimura riki (enhypen)

WARNiNG ─ cursing, kms/kys jokes, an yujin as face claims, sunghoon being very bad down for yn, more tba . . .

GENRE ♡ social media au, humor, fluff, angst, written parts, exes to lovers

⭐️ NOTE ִ﹗ who missed this smau? because it's coming back!!! ++ adding new accounts along side new chapters. hoping you guys enjoy this

TRACKLIST

OO1. SOTY!?!??!? | smau + 150wc written

OO2. i can be her perfect pair.. | smau

OO3. a relatable song or what? 😲 | smau

OO4. -1000 aura points | smau + 200wc written

OO5. sigma yn | smau

OO6. we bawl or ball 💔 | smau

OO7. riss or piss | smau

OO8. 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖒𝖆 𝖘𝖎𝖌𝖒𝖆 𝖇𝖔𝖎 | smau

more tba . . .

TAGLIST 1 (CLOSED) @bescitos @mioons @kgyam4 @whateverhoon @gyurtl @mumeimei @soobinbunnie5 @rairaiblog @d-dilemma @cyjzzl @illvding @clampclover @hoonics @daniellesyellowhands @txtlyn @wanderers-archive @ottokenta @aespaslut @thenastone @firstclassjaylee @tlnyjoong @jakesoneandonly @mirrorbvllhoon @jiawji @en-verse @idkwhyimheresworld @moon0fthenight @neos127 @microwavedstrawberr1es @i03jae @lunaryoongie @onlyhyunjin @yizhoutv @sol3chu @jungwo-nnie @yourssincerely-mimi  @doublebunv @tocupid @jiyeons-closet @woorcve @tzyunaes @losraire @sophi-ee @onlyhyunjin @riksaes @realrintaro @heeheesang @woorcve

TAGLIST 2 (OPEN)

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── ANNOUNCEMENT .ᐟ

no doubt ── s. jy

↳ the series !

↳ important note .ᐟ .ᐟ ── this 'sequel series' consists of short drabbles all taken place after the events of 'no doubt' but before the epilogue! it helps if you've read no doubt already, but they can all be read as stand alone one-shots if you want! (it will also make more sense if read in the order they're released/listed as i plan on following the timeline of their relationship progressing!) you can read no doubt here!

↳ summary ── a series of drabbles that look into the first year of jake & y/n's relationship after she decides to give him a second chance...aka jake being an absolute total whipped simp for her but in the most endearing way possible <3

↳ genre ── a mix of so so so much fluff, crack, smidges of angst, slices of life, but mostly endearing loser in love!jake :')

↳ pairing ── no doubt!jake x no doubt f!reader [w/ possible features of enha members in some of them !]

↳ ✎ᝰ. ~ 500 to 1k each

↳ ✉ .ᐟ ── hai everyoneeee yall asked for it..so here it is! a lot of you guys said you'd want to see how jake earns y/n's trust back after the events of no doubt and i thought it'd be really cute to release a little timeline of drabbles that not only showed that, but also the general progression & growth of their relationship throughout that first year i never showed before the epilogue. i'm sososo excited abt this because i truly cherish nodoubt!jake & y/n's relationship so much and i LOVED writing it and never wanted to stop so im so glad i can revisit it again hehehe,,,and of course thank YOU all for all the immense love no doubt got & is still getting <333 ─ i hope you guys are as excited for this as much as i am lolz. anyways i alrdy have SO many ideas for them because i really just want to give their relationship the justice it deserves :')

parts included under the cut! (subject to change & might add some more as we go...)

incoming parts .ᐟ (will be linked here once posted!)

↳ yours ↳ first kisses & second chances ↳ and yet... ↳ stay the night...please? ↳ tell me what you want ↳ jake's thing ↳ only you ↳ always known ↳ you're here, that's enough ↳ every time ↳ to love is to choose ↳ just let me love you, okay? ↳ even when it's hard... ↳ say it again ↳ princess privilege ↳ the morning after ↳ please, please, please ↳ you used to love me ↳ one year.

please let me know here or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in the updates! i plan on releasing them back to back once the series gets started (which i'm planning for sometime in a week!)

tag list + perm tag list! :

@bluxjun @ki2rins @why-did-i-just-do-this @favoritten @lovialymisc @xylatox @vivimura @leehsngs @puma-riki @lezzleeferguson-120 @enhaprettystars @laurradoesloveu @sievenderz @somuchdard @kristynaah @hinryh @ltfirecracker @lov4hoon @fangirl125reader @0429jw @dreamy-carat @yuons @thestarinstarbucks @miszes @llearlert @ppeachyttae @hoomin10 @teddybeartaetae @tanisha2060 @therealmrsbahng @beomgyu-bears @ikeulove @jiyeons-closet @youngheejay

[bangtanshelves]

JJK Fanfic Recos

Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.

I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.

I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.

I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe

💓 - Fluff ❤‍🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

My Love is Here - @/solemnreads

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."

Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi

Completed ✅

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.

Close to you - @/muniimyg

Completed ✅ ⭐

genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.

Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.

Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.

Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.

Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae

Completed ✅ ⭐

Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: ❤‍🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut)  you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.

Mutual Help - @/personasintro

Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say)  in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

Way Back Home - @/solemnreads

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵

"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."

Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj

Ongoing... ✍

Genre: ❤‍🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.

The Right Choice - @/honeytae

Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.

Rainy Days - @/rklve

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.

High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77

Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet

SOJU - @/hoseoksluna

Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.

Lost & Found - @/kooktrash

Genre: ❤‍🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.

Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.

Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea

Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤‍🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...

Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.

Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣

Genre: ❤‍🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.

How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣

Genre: 💓, ❤‍🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?

[acrosstheujiverse]

Your Choice

【📂】 summary: wonwoo’s life is upended when his ex, jiyeon, reappears and demands answers to their unresolved past. struggling between his feelings for jiyeon and his commitment to you, he must decide if he can truly move on or if his history with jiyeon will tear apart his future. 【🖇️】 pairing: chef!wonwoo x gn!chef!reader. 【💿】 genre: romance, angst, fluff, based on movie. 【🧺】 tags: established relationship; ex-girlfriend coming back; implied cheating; unconditional love; forgiveness. 【📦】 w/c: *8.3k+

📬 — author’s note！this story is based on the filipino movie “starting over again.” (some lines are taken directly from the movie--so go watch it to have a better understanding). i admired patty’s mature view on love. she is the embodiment of unconditional love.

UPDATED 03/01/‘25*

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wonwoo had never expected it to be this way—heartbroken and alone after his five-year relationship ended so suddenly. his ex-girlfriend, jiyeon, left him without any explanation. no closure, no reasons. just an empty space where their future once seemed so certain. the pain of that loss had been suffocating, leaving him unsure about love for years. but then, you came into his life.

it wasn’t immediate. you started as friends—no expectations, no pressure. but over time, as you cooked together in the kitchen, spent late nights talking about food and life, and shared a small but steady bond, something deeper bloomed between you. slowly, he let his guard down, and before he knew it, he fell for you. six years later, you had built something solid.

during that time, wonwoo knew he was ready to take the next step. he was planning to propose to you. he had no doubts.

but life, as it often does, threw a curveball when jiyeon suddenly returned. seven years had passed since their breakup, but jiyeon was back in his life, and this time, she wanted something. as an architect, she had started working on the renovation of the shared restaurant that you and wonwoo owned, which brought her back into wonwoo's life. what seemed like an innocent project became a difficult reminder of a past that wonwoo thought he had long buried.

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jiyeon’s point of view. internal dialogue.

when i think back to those days, it’s as though i’m remembering a different version of myself—someone who believed in love so deeply that i thought it could last forever. wonwoo and i were young. we were each other’s first love, naïve and full of hope, ready to conquer the world together. we had dreams, and they were intertwined—like our fingers and hearts. it felt so natural, like we were meant to be. i never questioned it.

but somewhere along the way, i started to see changes in him. it was subtle at first—a slight dulling of his once-bright eyes, a lack of spark in his smile. and then it grew. he stopped talking about the things he was passionate about. he didn’t talk about his dreams anymore, or the things that used to excite him. it felt like he was fading—into something that felt too familiar. he became like my father, a man who lost his hopes, his drive, his sense of purpose.

i couldn’t stand it. i tried to hold on, comfort him, and remind him of the person he used to be, but it was like talking to a wall. i didn’t know how to fix it, and i realized i couldn’t save him if he didn’t want to save himself. he wasn’t the boy i fell in love with anymore. he was a shadow, and i was suffocating in the silence between us. i didn’t want to become like my mother, always staying in a place that drained me. i wasn’t ready to be stuck in a life like that, so i left.

i didn’t give him an explanation. i didn’t know how. the words wouldn’t come out, and part of me didn’t want him to hate me for leaving. i didn’t want him to feel like i was abandoning him, but the truth was, i couldn’t watch him spiral any further. i left without a word, hoping he’d understand, but knowing deep down that he wouldn’t. i thought it would be the only way to move on—without looking back.

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but jiyeon couldn’t let go of the past. she couldn’t accept that what they once had was over. every attempt to reach out to wonwoo, every pleading question—“do we still have a chance?” and “do you think our love story deserves a better ending?”—pushed him further into himself. the constant pressure, the relentless pursuit of answers he didn’t have, wore him down. 

one night, she cornered him in the restaurant’s quiet, her eyes filled with desperation and yearning. the weight of her words was too much for him to carry anymore. he had tried to move on, but she wouldn’t let him. when jiyeon kissed him, her lips demanding what she refused to give up, something inside him snapped. 

“is this what you wanted?” he muttered harshly, his breath ragged, before his hands gripped her and he kissed her back forcefully, the line between love and frustration blurring. 

in that charged moment, all the unresolved emotions—love, regret, anger, and longing—took over. what followed was a blur of need and bitterness, both searching for something neither could give: closure. the aftermath was a painful reminder of how far they had fallen.

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the bathroom was eerily quiet, save for the constant hiss of the bathtub faucet, water steadily rising in the porcelain tub. steam filled the air, curling in delicate wisps as it mingled with the coldness of wonwoo’s racing thoughts. he sat on the edge of the tub, hands clasped tightly in front of him, eyes fixed on the running water as if it could cleanse him and wash away the weight of what had just happened.

the sound of his breathing was loud in his ears, the air thick with regret and self-loathing. he could still feel jiyeon’s presence lingering in the space between them—how her touch, and desperation had burned him in ways he wasn’t ready to confront. he knew that things had gone too far. he’d given into something he shouldn’t have, and now everything felt broken beyond repair.

but he couldn't bring himself to face it.

outside the bathroom, the room was quiet. the faint light from the hallway filtered through the crack under the door, casting a soft glow on the darkened bedroom. wonwoo’s phone rested on the nightstand beside the bed, illuminated suddenly by an incoming call.

the screen flashed in the dim room. a contact photo appeared, glowing in the night, but the name—just out of reach, too far for wonwoo to see from the bathroom—flashed in and out of view, its meaning lost on him in his haze.

on the other side of the door, jiyeon stood motionless for a moment. she had heard the phone ring, seen the name. she knew exactly whose photo lit up the screen.

her chest tightened, a slow wave of confusion and sadness washing over her. her eyes lingered on the phone one last time before she turned, her movements slow and deliberate. her footsteps echoed softly in the hallway, the sound growing faint as she left the room.

the air in the bathroom felt heavier as wonwoo remained unaware, lost in his thoughts, the sound of the water still running, the steam fogging the mirrors, as he continued to sit in the quiet. the phone’s glow faded, the call unanswered, as jiyeon quietly slipped out of his life again.

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wonwoo couldn’t escape the image of jiyeon’s eyes—those eyes filled with desperation and longing—her touch lingering on his skin like a ghost. he had given in. he had allowed the past to creep back into his life when he knew better. he had promised himself he was over her, but that kiss had broken something inside of him that he didn’t even know was fragile.

he didn’t know how to fix it, or if it could even be fixed. he had ruined everything. his relationship with you and his future with you was now in jeopardy because of one impulsive moment of weakness. 

and now, more than ever, he needed to confess and tell you everything. but how could he? how could he look you in the eyes and explain the mess he had made?

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you had noticed the change in him these past few days. wonwoo had always been quiet, but now he seemed to be hovering around you more than usual. his touch lingered just a little too long when he reached for something or kissed your forehead. his presence felt overwhelming, yet there was something different in the way he was acting—a subtle shift you couldn’t quite place.

at first, you brushed it off, telling yourself it was because you had just returned from a short business trip. it had been only two days, but you could tell that he was clinging to you as if he was afraid of losing you, of something slipping away. you didn’t want to question it too much. after all, he had missed you, and that was understandable.

but there was something in his eyes, the ways he would look at you; there was something almost frantic that made your stomach turn in ways you couldn’t explain.

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you and wonwoo were in the kitchen at your friend's grand opening event, cooking for the occasion.

the kitchen was filled with the usual chaos of preparation—pans sizzling, knives chopping, the soft hum of staff moving around in organized frenzy. but amidst it all, there was a quiet, undeniable shift. 

wonwoo had been standing by the counter, his hands working absentmindedly, but his gaze constantly drifted to you, who were busy organizing ingredients. it had been like this for years—your connection, always strong, never needing words. but today, there was an added softness in the air, a shared understanding between you that made everything else disappear.

you glanced up, catching his gaze for a fleeting moment, your lips curving into a small, tender smile. something unspoken passed between you, and in that moment, the entire world seemed to still. without thinking, wonwoo moved toward you, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of you, his presence a calm contrast to the busyness of the kitchen.

without a word, he reached for you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. you looked up at him, your eyes reflecting the years you had shared—the struggles, the victories, and the deep, quiet love that had blossomed in your time together. and just like that, he leaned down and kissed you without hesitation. 

the kiss was slow, tender, like the comfort of returning home after a long journey. it was a kiss that said everything you’ve never needed to say, anchoring you to the present, to the certainty of your love. 

unbeknownst to you, from the corner of the room, through an open door, jiyeon watched. her breath caught in her throat as she stood frozen, her gaze fixed on you two. the warmth of the kitchen, the busy voices of the staff—it all seemed distant now. she could only focus the sight of you and wonwoo sharing such a quiet, intimate moment. her heart twisted, the sharp pang of jealousy gnawing at her chest. 

she had thought—no, she had hoped—that seeing wonwoo move on would be easier, and wouldn’t hurt this much. but the reality was crushing. she had walked away from him years ago, without an explanation, without giving him the chance to fight for their relationship. and now, seeing him so utterly content with you—seeing that love between you two—brought back memories she wasn’t ready to confront. she had been the one to walk away from wonwoo, after all. she had been the one who left without giving him any closure. now, seeing him with someone else, it was as though that pain was fresh again.

when the kiss ended, wonwoo pulled away, his face soft with affection. he didn’t notice jiyeon’s presence, nor did he care at that moment. but jiyeon couldn’t bear to watch any longer, so she turned and walked away, her footsteps firm and resolute as she stepped outside, seeking a moment of calm. 

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the evening passed, and wonwoo soon returned to your shared restaurant to check on things, leaving you alone in the kitchen to finish the last preparations. you focused on the task at hand—decorating a cake, carefully placing each delicate detail.

jiyeon walked in, her eyes locking onto you with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. she wasn’t here for the event or the food. no, she was here for one thing only—to confront the person who now shared a life with the man she had once loved.

you didn’t look up immediately when jiyeon entered the kitchen. you continued to work as if nothing had changed. but you had known, deep down, that this confrontation was inevitable. jiyeon had been watching you, and she would come for answers.

"i... i loved him first, (y/n)," jiyeon said, her voice barely above a whisper. there was no anger, no confrontation in her words. just the sound of someone holding on to something for too long. "i loved him when he didn’t know what love was. i loved him when he needed someone, and i gave him everything. everything."

you stopped for a moment, looking at her. your expression was steady, but your heart twisted. you felt sympathetic towards her. however, you didn’t respond. instead, you returned to the cake, placing the last finishing touches.

"how sure are you about him, (y/n)? i mean... really," jiyeon’s voice had changed, no longer just soft, but filled with a bitter kind of urgency. "if there’s any doubt in your heart, you need to ask yourself—why hold on? let him go. let him be with the one he truly wants."

you didn’t look at her again, just focused on your task. "are you okay, jiyeon?"

she laughed, but it was hollow. "do you even get it, (y/n)? it’s not about us anymore. it’s about him. if you're not certain about this, don’t make him stay. don't let him settle for something less."

she walked closer, her steps echoing in the silence. "you don’t even realize it, do you? if you let him go now, you could save the both of you from a future of regret. a life of ‘what ifs.’"

you couldn’t stop the pang that shot through you. you turned, your eyes narrowing. "are you sick, jiyeon?"

"come on," she snapped, shaking her head, "stop pretending like we can be nice about this. we both know better than that."

you stared at her, your voice steady but sharp, "and why’s that?"

"because i’m his past," jiyeon said, the words cutting like a knife. "i loved him first. i’ll always own a piece of him that you’ll never have. no matter what."

you pulled back slightly, retreating to the other side of the counter, trying to focus on anything else. but jiyeon wasn’t done. she wasn’t backing down.

"so what, (y/n)? you’re just going to act like it doesn’t matter?" her voice was louder now, more frantic. "don’t tell me you’ve never felt threatened by me. don’t tell me you’ve never wondered if i could still take him back."

her words hit hard, but you stood your ground, meeting her gaze steadily.

jiyeon took a step closer, desperation rising in her voice. "what if you’re just a rebound, huh? what if he’s just settling for you because he couldn’t have me anymore? you don’t think that’s a possibility?"

you met her challenge without flinching, your voice low but firm. "you let go of your chance, jiyeon."

tears welled in her eyes, and she spoke again, voice cracking with emotion. "but i still love him. and he still loves me. please, (y/n). let him go. just set him free."

the words burned. you stared at her, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. you spoke slowly, the quiet pain in your words evident. "shouldn't he be the one telling me this?"

jiyeon’s eyes blazed now, her voice sharp and fierce. "you know him better than that. he’s not the type to hurt anyone on purpose."

your heart ached, but you held firm, shaking your head slightly. "so how sure are you that he loves you more?"

her voice softened, a tinge of sadness in her words. "because i saw it in his eyes. i felt it when he touched me... when he held me... when he kissed me... that kiss... slowly, passionately. a kiss that tells you everything. a kiss that tells you that he feels the same."

your world stopped. for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. "do you mean…?"

"yes, (y/n)," jiyeon whispered, her words like daggers. "more than you think."

a sharp pain shot through you as her words hit. you froze, the air in your lungs thick and suffocating. you blinked quickly, trying to hold back the sting of tears. hearing it from her, so bluntly, felt like a blow to the chest. you tried to push past it, but you couldn’t ignore the tremble in your hands as you set the knife down. "you must have a really lonely life.”

you grabbed a tissue from the counter, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. "you know, jiyeon... wonwoo and i... we don’t have that kind of grand, epic love story. ours started quietly. as friends. our love may not be exciting, but it’s sure. it’s steady."

jiyeon’s lips trembled, but she wiped at her face quickly, trying to regain composure.

"you see," you continued, your voice growing steadier, "with the right amount of trust, respect, and room for mistakes... that’s what makes our love what it is."

you took a breath, letting the weight of your words settle for a second, before finally speaking again. "i love him, jiyeon," you said, your voice quieter but unwavering. "and in love, there is no fear. i hope one day you’ll find that, too."

with that, you opened the door and left the kitchen, stepping into the hallway, where the cool air felt like a stark contrast to the tension you’d just left behind. you leaned against the wall momentarily, trying to calm your racing heart, and only then did the tears come. you let them fall freely, the weight of everything finally hitting you.

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before you and wonwoo had become what you were now, there had been a time when things were… uncertain. you could still remember that night so clearly—an evening filled with quiet sadness and unspoken words.

it had been a few weeks since wonwoo had started to pull away. his usual calm demeanor had shifted into something more fragile, like a delicate glass that could shatter at the slightest touch. you hadn’t known the full extent of his pain, not at first, but it was impossible to ignore the weight that seemed to hang around him. he had become quieter, withdrawn, and though he still laughed with you, his eyes no longer held the same spark they once had.

one evening, after closing up the restaurant, you found him sitting alone in the dim light of the back office, his gaze unfocused, staring at nothing. you hadn’t asked him about it right away. it was obvious that something was off, but you knew better than to press him when he wasn’t ready to talk.

instead, you had simply sat beside him in silence. time had passed, minutes or hours, it didn’t matter. the quiet between you was comfortable in a way—it was your way of letting him know that you were there, without needing to fill the space with words.

his eyes were cast downward, his fingers lightly gripping the edge of the chair as though he needed something solid to hold onto. and then, almost like a confession, he finally spoke, his voice raw with emotion.

"i don’t know who i am without her. i don’t even know how to let go."

it took a moment for you to process what he was saying. you had a feeling, but hearing the words—spoken so softly, yet so full of pain—shocked you to your core. wonwoo had never been one to speak of his past openly, especially not the parts that had clearly left scars.

he didn’t look up at you at first, his face twisted with emotion that he couldn’t quite control. you felt helpless, wanting to ease his pain but not knowing how. 

and then, finally, his eyes met yours.

his eyes were filled with a vulnerability you had never seen before. "i don’t know how to move on, (y/n). i don’t know how to let go of something that feels like it was supposed to be everything."

your heart broke for him at that moment. you wanted to take away his pain, to make everything okay again, but you knew it wasn’t that simple. sometimes, the things we had to let go of were the hardest to part with.

"i know it’s hard," you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. "but you can’t keep living in the past. you deserve to find peace, wonwoo. you deserve to be happy again."

the silence stretched on again, but this time, it was different. it wasn’t filled with sorrow. it was filled with understanding. he didn’t have to speak anymore; the two of you simply existed in the quiet presence of one another, both navigating the complexities of a world that seemed too big to manage alone.

that night, when you said your goodbyes, you left him with a small but genuine smile. you didn’t push him to open up further, but you left him with something more important: the understanding that, no matter how broken he felt, he didn’t have to face it by himself.

*

though you never pushed him to talk, you knew the weight of unspoken things, the quiet ache of carrying a broken heart. you had known that kind of pain before, in your own way, and you couldn’t let him bear it alone. you stayed close, offering him the space to grieve and process, but also ensuring he knew that he wasn’t isolated in his feelings. every step, every silent moment where he needed someone to just be there—that was what you were offering him. 

even if you didn’t fully understand the depth of his connection to his past, you could still empathize with the emotional struggle. you weren’t trying to take the pain away or fill the void left by what he had lost—you were simply offering him the one thing he needed most: the comfort of knowing that, no matter how dark it got, you wouldn’t let him face it alone. 

and as the days passed, your presence became a steady anchor for him, slowly helping him find his way back. you didn’t pressure him to let go of his past or tell him to forget; instead, you let him grieve in his own time, providing the kind of support that only someone who truly understood could offer. you knew exactly how he felt because, in your own way, you had felt that kind of emptiness, the feeling of being left behind. 

but you never wanted him to face that loneliness alone—just as you had never wanted to face your own.

and somewhere in the depths of his sadness, you had hoped that he would realize, in time, that he could find love again. but for now, you would just be there for him, quietly, patiently—because sometimes, that was all someone needed to start healing.

slowly, over time, you became his safe space, the person he could trust to stand by him, no matter what, through the pain and uncertainty. 

that was the bond between you two, built not on grand declarations or sweeping gestures but on the quiet, steadfast presence of someone who understood, who stayed—every single time.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

as you walked outside, still processing the weight of your conversation with jiyeon, you couldn’t shake the feeling of exhaustion that had settled deep in your bones. the confrontation had taken everything from you. you had never been one to lash out or let yourself be consumed by anger, but the weight of jiyeon’s desperation, her need for something that wasn’t hers anymore, left you defeated.

jiyeon, on the other hand, wasn’t ready to let go.

jiyeon couldn't bear the feeling of the weight of her actions pressed on her chest like a suffocating vice.

in a sudden, frantic moment of regret, jiyeon ran after you, her heart racing. "y/n, wait! please!" she called out, grabbing your arm with force, her fingers digging into your skin. "i’m sorry. i never meant to hurt you. i just... i just wanted him back. i was wrong."

your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to face jiyeon again. your heart was heavy with compassion for this woman who had been broken by her choices. yet, as much as you wanted to ease her pain, you couldn’t lose sight of your peace. 

"you’re not alone, jiyeon," you said, your voice quieter now. "but you can’t drag me down with you. let go."

jiyeon didn’t want to hear it. in a desperate attempt to make you listen, she held on harder, her grip tightening as she clung to you with all her might. the scaffolding above them, already unstable from the ongoing construction, groaned ominously under the weight of their struggle. neither one of you noticed the danger until it was too late.

the next moment, everything collapsed.

the scaffolding gave way with a deafening crash. metal and wood splintered, falling violently around them. the deafening sound of the collapse filled the air, and you and jiyeon were caught in the wreckage. 

you screamed as the debris hit you, and pain shot through her body like a wave of fire. jiyeon cried out too, but the chaos drowned her voice. the world spun into a blur of pain and confusion. both of you were pinned beneath the fallen structure, but you had taken the brunt of the impact. blood trickled from your forehead, and your breath came in shallow gasps.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

this wasn’t the first time you had found yourself in a life-or-death situation. you’d learned long ago that in moments of true danger, fear could cripple you if you let it. and you had learned not to let it.

years ago, you had been in a car accident—a wreck so violent that you had only vague memories of the impact. you remembered the screech of tires, the shattering of glass, and everything going dark. when you woke up, it was to the sterile white walls of a hospital room, your body battered, your mind foggy, but your heart somehow still beating.

the doctors had said you were lucky to be alive. but luck, in your experience, was something that often ran out. and so, after that accident, you learned to live with a quiet understanding of life’s fragility. you learned how to stay calm in the face of chaos, to keep your head when everything else around you was falling apart. you had seen the fragility of existence firsthand, making you resilient. the panic, the fear—those emotions were fleeting, useless. what mattered in those moments was action. what mattered was getting through it.

your love for wonwoo, the life you had built with him, and the bond you shared all came rushing to the forefront. this was what you were fighting for.

as you lay there, your body aching, the memory of your past experiences—the accident, the recovery, the time it had taken for you to heal both physically and emotionally—pushed through your foggy thoughts. you knew what it was like to fight for your life, to fight for the ones you loved. this moment, as painful and terrifying as it was, felt like a distant echo compared to that dark chapter.

you had been given a second chance then, and you were determined to make the most of it. that’s why you were here now, still fighting, still holding on—not just for your own sake, but for those you loved.

for wonwoo, for your future.

and even for jiyeon, whose broken heart you wished you could mend.

in the silence of your mind, amidst the wreckage and chaos, you held onto that resolve. you had been through worse—and you would get through this, too.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

wonwoo had barely processed the call when he was rushing through the hospital halls, panic rising with every step. you and jiyeon had been rushed in after an accident during the renovation, but the details were vague. his only concern was you, the person he had loved for six years.

when he arrived at the er (emergency room), his heart stopped. multiple nurses hurriedly pushed two stretchers, one carrying you and the other jiyeon.

jiyeon was closest to him, her face pale, her body bruised. 

she stirred slightly, but her eyes fluttered open only for a moment. "i’m sorry," she whispered, her voice weak. "i didn’t mean for this to happen."

wonwoo felt a stab of guilt, but there was no time for lingering. he stood up quickly, turning toward your stretcher. his heart broke when he saw you lying unconscious, your body battered and bruised from the fall. his world narrowed down to you—his thoughts centered on nothing but your safety. 

he moved to your side, his hand taking yours tightly. "(y/n)," he whispered, his voice desperate. "please, stay with me."

but you didn’t respond.

as time seemed to stretch, wonwoo stayed by your side, unable to leave. his heart ached with every passing second, the weight of his decisions pressing heavily on him. he hadn’t realized how much you had come to mean to him, how much you had become the center of his world.

and now, seeing you like this, so fragile, so vulnerable, he couldn’t imagine a life without you. the thought of losing you was more terrifying than any pain he had ever known.

"please," he whispered, tears threatening to fall. "i can’t lose you."

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

the soft glow of the evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue over the room. you and wonwoo lay in bed, your heads resting against the same pillow, the comforting silence of the space wrapping around you like a blanket. it had been a long, tiring week, but at this moment, lying beside him, everything felt peaceful.

you hadn’t realized how much you needed this—just to be close to him and feel his presence beside you after the chaos of everyday life. the quiet rhythm of his breathing was like a lullaby, grounding you, helping you to unwind.

“you know,” you began softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “i had a dream last night.”

wonwoo stirred beside you, turning his head toward you with a slight shift of his body. his fingers brushed gently over the back of your hand, an action so familiar it always comforted you. “what about?” he asked, his voice low and sleepy but still attentive.

you took a deep breath before you answered, your gaze shifting toward the ceiling as the memory of the dream replayed in your mind. “it was about you," you said quietly, your voice laced with hesitation. "i dreamed that you… you died.”

wonwoo’s body tensed slightly at the weight of your words. he shifted to face you more fully, concern flickering in his eyes. “really?” his voice was soft, but there was an edge to it, as if he was trying to understand why such a dream had come to you.

“i don’t know," you said, shaking your head slightly, your fingers picking at the blanket. "it felt so real. you were gone, and i couldn’t save you. i cried a lot, and it hurt so much, more than anything i’ve ever felt before.”

a quiet pause hung between you both as the weight of your words sank in. for a moment, the room felt heavier, as though the dream had cast a shadow over the both of you. you could feel wonwoo’s gaze on you, but he didn’t immediately speak. instead, his hand found yours under the covers, his touch warm and reassuring, as if silently offering comfort.

“i heard dreams like that symbolize good luck,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, trying to ease the tension. "it's a lucky dream, (y/n)."

you looked at him then, the weight of your dream still lingering, and you sighed. “i guess it’s just the fear of losing you,” you admitted, your voice steady but carrying the underlying vulnerability. “i’ve always known life is fragile. but the thought of losing you… i don’t know, it just scared me so much in that moment.”

wonwoo watched you with a quiet intensity, as if trying to understand the depth of your feelings. he ran his thumb gently over the back of your hand, his gaze softening as he spoke. “i’m not going anywhere, (y/n),” he said, his voice calm and filled with warmth. “you don’t have to be afraid of that.”

you let out a shaky breath, trying to brush the lingering discomfort away, but his words seemed to settle the weight on your chest. it wasn’t the first time you’d had a fear like this, and knowing he was there, that you didn’t have to face that fear alone, meant everything to you.

after a moment, he let out a small, almost teasing sigh, his lips curling into a faint smile as he spoke again. “thank you. i’m glad i have someone who'll cry when i die.”

you laughed softly at his attempt to lighten the mood, but you could hear the unspoken vulnerability in his voice. it was almost as if he was testing the waters, trying to make light of something he didn’t want to confront.

you turned to face him fully now, reaching out to gently cup his cheek. your thumb brushed over his skin, and your heart ached at how deeply he felt things, even when he tried to hide it behind humor. “what’s that supposed to mean?” you asked with a quiet smile, your voice tender.

he shrugged, his gaze shifting to the ceiling as he sighed softly. “i don’t know. life just feels… fragile sometimes. you never really know when it’s all going to end, and it’s hard not to think about it.”

you squeezed his hand softly, letting the silence linger for just a moment before responding. “wonwoo,” you said quietly, your voice steady and warm, “i’m not going anywhere. not if i can help it.”

he turned to face you, his eyes searching yours for something, maybe reassurance, maybe comfort, but when he spoke, there was a gentle sincerity in his voice. “you really think so?”

you nodded without hesitation, the certainty in your heart clear. “i do. i don’t care what happens, i’m not going to let you go through anything alone.”

for a long moment, wonwoo didn’t say anything. he simply looked at you, as if processing your words, before his lips finally curled into a soft, genuine smile. slowly, he leaned in and kissed your forehead—gentle, like a promise.

“you’re right,” he murmured, his voice soft with affection. “i wouldn’t want to go through anything without you.”

and in that simple, quiet moment, as you lay there beside him, everything felt right. you both knew life was fragile, uncertain, and full of unknowns, but as long as you had each other, you would face it all together. no matter what came your way, you would hold onto each other, never letting go.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

you woke in a sterile, quiet hospital room, the sound of beeping machines surrounding you. the sharp pain in your side made you wince, and you could feel the weight of the bandages wrapped around you. but when you opened my eyes, you saw him.

wonwoo was sitting beside you, holding my hand. his face was pale, his eyes wide with concern.

you winced faintly, though the pain still lingered. "wonwoo," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

he squeezed your hand tighter, the tears finally spilling over. "you’re here. you’re safe."

"why didn't you tell me?"

"i’m sorry," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "i'm sorry. i didn't know how to—"

"my love is greater than your failures, wonwoo, but don’t play with my feelings," you interrupted, your voice hoarse. "be fair. tell me your honest feelings because i can accept whatever your choice may be. if it’s me, then it’s me. if it’s her, then it’s her. but you have to make a choice."

wonwoo’s face contorted with guilt, but before he could say anything, you held up a hand. "i’m not asking for an answer now, wonwoo. i just need you to be honest with me, because i deserve that."

he looked at you, his eyes filled with pain, but you could see something else there, too. a recognition. a quiet realization of how far you've come together, and how much you've built.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

it was a warm summer day, and wonwoo and jiyeon were sitting on a park bench, the late afternoon sunlight casting long shadows over them. jiyeon’s laughter echoed through the park, carefree and light, but there was a quiet tension beneath the surface of the conversation.

wonwoo was looking at her, his eyes distant, as if he were searching for something in her words. he had never been one to openly share his thoughts, but something had been weighing on him for days. 

“ji, why do relationships fail?” wonwoo asked suddenly, his voice quiet but filled with curiosity. 

jiyeon turned to him with a bright, innocent smile. she didn’t seem to sense the weight of his question. “huh? why?” she asked, a hint of confusion in her tone.

“my best friend just got dumped by his girlfriend all of a sudden…” wonwoo trailed off, clearly trying to understand the reasons behind it. “they seemed perfect. so... why?”

jiyeon let out a short laugh, brushing her hair back and looking at him like the question was too simple. “oh, well, relationships fail because people get bored, right? or maybe they just don’t have the same level of commitment. you can’t just expect everything to stay the same forever, wonwoo.” she giggled, her voice light and carefree. “people change, things happen. that’s just how it is. nothing lasts forever, you know?”

wonwoo’s gaze softened as he processed her words, but something about her answer didn’t sit right with him. he couldn’t shake the feeling that relationships were more complicated than that—more fragile and nuanced than the simple, childlike reasoning jiyeon seemed to offer.

*

it was one of those quiet evenings where the world felt at peace—just the two of you. the soft glow of streetlights outside the window illuminated the cozy apartment, casting long shadows on the walls. you were sitting on the couch, your legs tucked underneath you, as wonwoo sat beside you, his hand resting on your knee. it was still early in your relationship, when you were both discovering the rhythms of each other’s lives, learning about each other’s pasts, and figuring out how to fit together in a way that felt right.

the conversation between you both had been lighthearted, filled with laughter and easy moments. but as always with him, there was a certain depth to his quietness, a thoughtful quality that lingered long after the jokes faded. he had been staring out the window for a few moments, deep in thought, when he suddenly turned toward you, catching your attention.

“(y/n),” wonwoo began, his voice softer than usual, as if he was testing the weight of the question in his mind before speaking it aloud. “why do relationships fail?”

you tilted your head slightly, surprised by the abruptness of the question, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes—the kind of quiet uncertainty that made you realize he was asking this more for himself than anything else. he wasn't looking for something flippant or simple.

you thought for a moment before answering. “i think… sometimes people forget how to communicate. they let small things build up until it feels like too much. or maybe they start taking each other for granted.” you paused, giving him a small smile. “i guess sometimes love just isn't enough when people stop trying.”

wonwoo absorbed your words, his gaze soft, contemplative. there was something so genuine in the way he was looking at you, like he was piecing together something important. then, after a beat of silence, he let out a small sigh and looked away, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“yeah,” he said quietly, his voice laced with the slightest trace of a bittersweet understanding. “i guess that makes sense.”

he seemed distant for a moment, as though his mind had drifted to somewhere far away. you could tell there was more behind his words, but you didn’t press him. instead, you reached out, gently nudging his shoulder, a reminder that you were here. "hey, you okay?" you asked, your voice soft, always attuned to the way he closed himself off when something troubled him.

he smiled faintly and nodded, though you could still see that flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "yeah, i’m just thinking."

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

the next day, wonwoo held the flowers carefully in his hands, his steps slow as he approached the door.

wonwoo sat quietly beside jiyeon’s hospital bed, the room dimly lit. the soft beeping of the machines was the only sound that filled the silence between them. he held the bouquet in his hands, almost as if unsure of what to do with them.

jiyeon’s gaze flickered up, her eyes searching for reassurance. "how are they?"

"they're okay... it's just going to take time for them to heal."

her expression softened, a mix of regret and sorrow clouding her features. "i'm really sorry."

his eyes lingered on jiyeon for a long moment before he finally spoke, his voice steady but filled with something deeper—something raw.

"i know this might be difficult for you to hear," he said, choosing his words carefully, "but every time i think about everything that happened... i always end up thinking about them. about (y/n)."

jiyeon’s eyes flickered to him, her gaze sharpening slightly, almost as if she was testing his sincerity.

he took a deep breath, his eyes drifting to the floor for a moment. "back then, i thought i had everything with you. i thought we were going to be together forever. but when you left... you left without a word, jiyeon. without any explanation. no reason. it just... happened. and i was left behind, questioning everything. i wanted to hold on, to fight for us, but you just... you walked away."

his voice caught briefly, a painful silence filling the space between them. he swallowed hard, gathering himself before continuing.

"i don’t think i’ve ever told you this before, but when you left, it felt like a part of me died, jiyeon. i was empty. i didn’t know how to move forward. you were the person i thought i’d spend my life with, and you just... vanished. i couldn’t understand it. and for a long time, i carried that weight—wondering if i could have done something differently. wondering if i missed something. but you never gave me the chance to know, and that’s something i’ve had to live with."

wonwoo’s grip tightened around the bouquet, his knuckles whitening.

"but then i met (y/n)," he continued, his voice growing steadier, the weight of his words anchoring him in truth. "and for the first time in a long time, i felt like i wasn’t broken anymore. (y/n) was there when i was at my lowest. they didn’t walk away. they didn’t leave me to figure things out on my own. they helped me rebuild myself—not by telling me everything would be okay, but by showing me how to heal."

he let out a breath, his eyes locked with jiyeon’s now, a fierce, unwavering resolve behind them. "that’s why i’m here now, jiyeon. not because i need closure from you, but because i need you to understand that what we had is gone. when i look at (y/n), i don’t just see a person i’m in love with. i see my future. they're the one i want to grow old with. they're the one who taught me what real love looks like. and now... when i think about losing them? i can’t even begin to imagine it. the thought of losing them—it would feel like dying a second time. i wouldn’t survive that, jiyeon. not after everything we’ve been through together. not after everything they've done for me."

his voice softened, but there was no mistaking the conviction in it.

"(y/n) has become my everything. they're the person who makes me feel like i’m enough, even on my worst days. and i realized something—true love isn’t about clinging to something that’s already fallen apart. it’s about being willing to let go of what doesn’t serve you anymore, and choosing the person who brings out the best in you, who builds with you, who loves you even when you’re at your worst. that person is (y/n)."

he took another deep breath before continuing, his tone quieter now, but resolute. "for that reason, jiyeon, i’m sorry. i’m sorry for how things ended between us, but i’m not going back. i’m not going to turn away from the life i’ve built with them. i’ve made my choice. and that choice is (y/n)."

for a long moment, jiyeon remained silent. the faintest flicker of something—perhaps a trace of regret—passed over her face, but she didn’t say anything. she only looked away, her eyes welling up with tears that she quickly blinked away. maybe she had expected this. maybe part of her had known all along that this day would come.

wonwoo stood up, his legs stiff from sitting so long, and carefully placed the bouquet on the side table. he didn’t look back at jiyeon as he turned to leave the room. 

before he reached the door, jiyeon’s voice broke through the quiet, barely audible but filled with emotion. "wonwoo..." she said, trembling slightly. "i... i hope you’re happy with them."

wonwoo paused for a moment, his hand resting on the doorframe. his heart ached for her, but there was no uncertainty in him. he had decided. 

"i am," he said quietly, his voice resolute, but with a trace of gentleness. "i really am."

for the first time in a long while, wonwoo realized something that brought him a profound sense of peace: healing wasn’t about forgetting; it was about embracing the scars, the memories, and choosing to love despite them. true love, he understood, was never about perfection. it was about fighting for something worth holding onto, day after day. love wasn’t defined by who loved first or who loved more. it was about the daily decision to choose each other. and as long as that choice was made, nothing else mattered.

with his heart at ease, he stepped into a new chapter, ready to continue writing his story—not as a man defined by the past, but as one who had found his way forward, not by looking back, but by moving on.

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

it had been some time since the accident, and you were healing—physically, emotionally, and mentally. the scars left from that day were not just on your body, but deep within your soul. yet, every step of recovery had been made easier with wonwoo by your side. he had never left you. not even when the past had come calling, and not when he was facing the hardest decisions of his life. 

life after your hospital discharge was slow, but steady. the quiet days were spent together, learning to rediscover each other without the weight of past regrets hanging over you both. you could see it—the way he looked at you with a newfound softness, the way his actions spoke louder than words ever could. wonwoo had chosen you, and that was all that mattered. there were no more questions, no more lingering doubts.

one morning, as you both sat at the kitchen table, drinking coffee and talking about the mundane things in life, you noticed something different. wonwoo was sitting a little taller, his gaze a little steadier. 

"you know," he said, almost as if he was speaking to himself, but you knew he wanted you to hear it too. "i never really understood how much of me was tied up in the past... until i met you. until i realized that none of it mattered anymore. not with you in my life."

you looked up at him, a soft smile on your lips. "i know," you said quietly. "you’ve been through a lot. but you’re not that man anymore, wonwoo. you’ve shown me what love can really be. i’m proud of you."

he smiled back, his hand reaching across the table to find yours. "i’m just trying to be the man you deserve," he said, squeezing your fingers gently. "i’m still learning, but i’m committed to being better for you. every day. i’m not running from the past anymore. i’m not letting it control me. i’m focused on us, on the future."

you felt warmth bloom in your chest, the sincerity in his words something that made you believe in him all over again. this wasn’t just the man who had been lost in a web of unresolved feelings for jiyeon. this was the man who had walked through fire and come out the other side, determined to create something real and lasting with you.

you had both grown together, and the future now seemed like an open road. 

୨:୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ · · ┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨:୧

wonwoo was on his knee, looking up at you with eyes full of quiet determination.

"will you marry me?" he asked, his voice steady, yet his eyes shimmered with emotion so raw it left you breathless. his hands, slightly trembling, held out the ring to you as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

your heart skipped a beat, and the world around you seemed to fall away into a serene silence. all that mattered was him—the man who had been your strength, your comfort, your home. the man you had chosen to love, no matter the hurdles life had thrown your way.

"yes." the word came out as a soft whisper, but it carried a weight that filled the room with warmth. overcome with joy, you cupped his face in your hands, searching his eyes for the countless moments of love he'd given you, the depth of everything you'd shared. and then, without hesitation, you kissed him—soft at first, but filled with all the love you had been holding onto. your lips, a promise of forever.

— fin.

[orimuraa]

── ⋆⋅ ໒꒱ིྀ༝⁺ Baby, boo, my sweetie, darling, think i love you more - OT7 𝜗𝜚 earth, wind & fire - boynextdoor

꒰ 𝔖𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 ꒱┆adopting a child with enhypen ⨾

۶ৎ husband!enhypen x fem!reader┆too much fluff┆kissing, petnames, mentions of adoptions┆wc

⤷ 𝐲𝐞𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: thank you to the sweet anon who requested this! i hope it’s okay and to your liking!!

꒰ঌ ℬℴℴ𝓀𝓈𝒽ℯ𝓁𝒻 ໒꒱

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

as jiyeon was softly curled up in your lap, you couldn’t help but smile at her. she was so precious and you were so lucky to now have her in your life. “she’s adorable, isn’t she?” you speak softly to your husband—heeseung. you look over at him to see his eyes full of love and a tender look on his face. “that she is. and a family we are,” heeseung smiles, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. family. that’s what you are.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

“jay!! i have a proposal!!!” you exclaim, rushing into the living room where your husband was sat on the sofa, reading some novel. “yes darling?” he asks, setting his book aside and taking off his reading glasses. “ok..so, i was at the orphanage and i think we should adopt one of the little boys there. we’ve been wanting this for so long! and he was so cute and sweet!” you smile, recalling how dohoon kept on engaging with you and showing off his toys. “that sounds amazing, love. how about we go tomorrow and see from there,” jay says softly. your smile immediately grows and you run over to hug jay. you’ll finally have the family you dreamed of.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

“look at her..she’s gorgeous..” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips. yusu—the baby you and jake just adopted—was finally in her forever home, sleeping soundly. “she really is..and so are you,” jake chuckles, kissing your cheek and pulling you into his embrace with one arm. “is it everything you ever dreamed of? to be a beautiful mother now?” he asks, kissing you head as he sways the two of you side to side. “oh it’s so much more.”

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

“oh hoon he’s perfect,” you say, feeling tears prick at your eyes. after years of paperwork and documents, you finally were able to adopt and bring home the baby boy of your dreams. gyuwan was such a soft hearted boy who loved to smile and laugh. you and sunghoon immediately fell for his laughter and ever since then, you two have worked so hard to bring him home. “indeed he is angel. he’ll really brighten up the house, huh,” sunghoon smiles, his fangs peeking through. now you were a family of three.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

when you had first brought up the idea of adopting a child a couple years ago, sunoo immediately knew that it was a great idea. he lived the idea of starting a family with you and being able to have a little one to look after. so, fast forward 2 years and here she was. a sweet 3 year old girl named jiyu who’s smile was just so infectious that you and sunoo immediately knew that she was the one. now, she was in her forever home with you and sunoo, playing around with sunoo’s hair as you watched with a smile on your face. you couldn’t think of any other scenario more perfect than this.

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

the minute your eyes locked with the sweet little girl, you knew she was the perfect one. “won, look at her..she’s so precious..” you pouted, staring longingly at the little girl lying on the ground in star pose. “maybe she’s the one then..looks like she would fit right in with the cats,” he smiles playfully, admiring her as well. “then what are we waiting for? let’s go meet her!!” you cheer excitedly as your husband just chuckles and follows after you.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

“little love?” riki’s voice calls out to you before he pokes his head into the living room where you and your new adopted baby boy were sitting. both of your heads spin to look at your husband, causing riki to let out a chuckle. “guess i have two little loves now, huh?” he teases. “which one’s the favorite?…” he ponders jokingly before seeing your glare and surrendering. “i love you both equally as much.”

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ✉︎ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ 𝐉𝐢𝐣𝐢’𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy, @hyukabean, @annybah, @ijustwannareadstuff20, @chaeneu, @17ericas, @firstclassjaylee, @riribelle, @right-person-wrong-time, @cheruphic, @woniefication

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ MOONSTRUCK

❛ 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬. 𝘰𝘩, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺. 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺. 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘭𝘰𝘸— 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯 𝘦𝘤𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘺. ❜

timeline: 2022

synopsis: Jeonghan’s life had always been filled with quiet realizations about Luna— the way he loved her, the way she changed him— but nothing struck him harder than the moment he knew, with unwavering certainty, that he wanted to marry her.

warnings: heavy narrations!, cursing, fluff, slight angst?, established relationship, slight suggestiveness, pda, flirting, lovey dovey type shit, Jeonghan the simp, Jeonghan’s pov, realizations, fluff, fluffiness galore, Luna through Jeonghan’s eyes, tooth-rotting fluff, prepare to feel single

there will be references to my one-shots If Only, Can I Be Him?, Talking To The Moon & His English Love Affair. so if you haven’t read those yet, i advice you do so in that order to understand certain references. just a heads up, this one-shot in general is narration heavy— so if you are not into that then this is not for you. happy reading, my loves 💛

wrote this in a plane btw so i was lowkey out of it 😖 anywho… i am currently in nyc with the fam for a little vacay moment!! (where are all my nyc babies?). but do not worry i will still be updating you, my lovelies 💕💕💕

also— Moonstruck has to be one of my favorite enhypen song, so please listen to it whilst reading 😩

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Yoon Jeonghan had a lot of realizations in his life.

Some came quietly, like the way water gradually soaks into dry earth— soft, subtle, and almost imperceptible. Others hit him with the force of a summer storm, striking through him like lightning until he was left with no choice but to accept whatever truth had settled into his bones.

And as he looked back over the years, he realized that most of these moments, these slow burns and sudden epiphanies, had something to do with her.

Luna.

Or perhaps he should say Bae Jiyeon, the name he had first known her by, the girl who had once been nothing more than a fleeting, half-formed thought in his mind, an image that lingered for days on end, until it somehow grew into something far more potent than he could have ever anticipated.

He could still remember that first day, as if he were sixteen again and stepping into the PLEDIS practice room. It was the place where dreams were shaped and shattered, where sweat and sore muscles were the only constants in a world of shifting goals and ambitions.

He’d barely been a trainee himself for long, only beginning to understand the rigor and relentlessness that defined their lives. But then, she walked in— young, pale, her figure petite yet carrying an unexpected intensity that captured his attention before he even realized he’d been looking.

At first glance, she seemed worlds apart from everyone else.

The other trainees around him had a raw eagerness, a nervous energy that crackled in the air, almost tangible as they lined up, shuffled from one end of the room to the other, and followed orders.

But she…she was different.

She wore all black, from her fitted pants to the leather jacket draped over her shoulders like armor. Her long black hair cascaded down her back, catching the light as it swayed with her every movement, and her gaze was fixed straight ahead, cool and detached.

There was something fierce in the way she held herself, head high and shoulders squared, as though she were bracing against an invisible force. She looked strong, resilient, like she had already fought battles the rest of them couldn’t even imagine.

But there was something else, too— something Jeonghan noticed as he studied her face more closely.

Beneath that hardened exterior, there was a glimmer of uncertainty in her eyes, a subtle flicker of doubt that softened the edges of her seemingly unbreakable facade.

It was a vulnerability he hadn’t expected, and somehow, it made her even more striking.

Jeonghan remembered feeling oddly compelled, even captivated, by the sight of her. He didn’t know her name, didn’t know anything about her, but there was something about her presence that lingered with him throughout the day, like the haunting melody of a song he couldn’t quite remember.

Later, as he stood off to the side with Joshua, he found himself mentioning her in an offhanded way, trying to sound casual, even though his mind had been drifting back to her constantly since she’d arrived. “I met a pretty girl today,” he’d said, almost as if the words slipped out before he could hold them back.

He remembered the slight grin Joshua gave him, the amused raise of his eyebrow, the way he nudged him teasingly. But Jeonghan had only shrugged, though his heart beat a little faster just thinking about her.

“I still don’t know her name. I’ve seen her a few times… she’s really pretty,” he admitted, not even fully understanding what that meant yet.

He didn’t know her name, her story, or anything that made up the person she was, but he felt an unexplainable urge to be near her, to talk to her, to unravel the mystery she seemed to embody. He’d even mentioned wanting to sing a song for her— an impulsive thought, one that made Joshua laugh, but Jeonghan had meant it.

It was as if his heart had started composing its own melody, one that was meant just for her, even though he barely knew her.

Looking back, Jeonghan realized he had a crush.

Something innocent and admiring, a quiet kind of admiration that made him feel like he was sixteen and stumbling over emotions he hadn’t quite figured out yet. He wasn’t sure if it was her strength or that flicker of vulnerability she tried so hard to hide, but something about her had him captivated from the very first day.

She had an aura of defiance, a spark that made him want to get to know her, to be the one who could see past her armor and find the person beneath.

That day, he remembered mustering up the courage to approach her. It wasn’t like him to be shy, but something about her made his pulse race, his heart hammering in his chest as he rehearsed a casual greeting over and over in his head.

Jeonghan remembered telling himself it was no big deal, that he just wanted to be friendly, but he couldn’t ignore the way his hands felt a little clammy or the way his stomach twisted in anticipation. He walked up to her, each step making him feel strangely vulnerable, and when she looked up, her eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting anyone to approach her, least of all him.

“Hi,” he’d said, his voice somehow steady despite the nerves buzzing under his skin as he extended his hand to her. "I'm Jeonghan. What's your name?"

She looked at him, still wide-eyed, and for a brief moment, he thought she might brush him off or walk away. But then she spoke, her voice low and soft, and it was the first time he heard her name slip from her lips— Jiyeon.

"I... I'm Jiyeon," she had managed to say, her voice uncharacteristically small but she added, almost as an afterthought, “Or Luna... you can also call me Luna."

"Jiyeon or Luna," Jeonghan repeated, his smile widening. "Welcome. If you need anything, just let me know."

And with that, she became more than just a pretty girl in black.

She was Luna.

Jeonghan had never forgotten that first meeting.

There was something about it that had lodged itself deep in his memory, a tiny fragment of time that somehow held more weight than it should have.

And from that moment on, Jeonghan knew he wanted her as a friend.

It wasn’t just a fleeting infatuation or a passing interest. He wanted to get to know her, to unravel the layers she hid behind, to be the one who could make her smile, who could coax out that side of her that didn’t need to be so guarded.

She intrigued him in a way he couldn’t quite understand, but he was certain of one thing— he wanted her in his life, and he remembered wanting to do whatever it took to make that happen.

Then years later came Luna’s drunken confession.

Jeonghan remembered that night with a clarity that was almost painful, the kind of memory that stuck to the walls of his mind, refusing to fade even as the years slipped by.

He’d never thought that a single night could shift the axis of his world, could take everything he thought he understood about himself and turn it upside down. But there it was— a confession, raw and unguarded, slipping from her lips in a haze of intoxicated vulnerability.

Luna, now his best friend, his closest confidante, the girl who had once been a stranger in a leather jacket with her chin held high, had confessed her feelings for him, and it had felt like a bolt of lightning splitting the sky.

His heart had leapt in his chest, a sudden surge of warmth spreading through him, leaving him feeling almost weightless in the moment. It was as though every small, quiet feeling he’d harbored for her over the years was suddenly brought to the surface, illuminated by her words in a way he could no longer deny.

She wanted him.

Her— Luna, fierce and proud, the girl who held her own in every room she walked into, the girl who was now his bandmate, his partner in this shared dream that they were slowly but surely achieving.

The joy he felt was electric, sharp and consuming, wrapping around him like a second heartbeat. He’d wanted her for so long, in ways he’d never fully let himself acknowledge. She was his best friend, yes, but she had become something more, slipping past every defense he’d tried to put up.

Yet, beneath that happiness, there was a clawing fear, an insidious weight pressing down on him, trying to bring him back to reality.

This was dangerous— they were dangerous.

They weren’t just Jeonghan and Luna anymore, two kids fumbling through their feelings. They were bandmates, members of the same group striving for the same goals, reaching heights together that they had once only dreamed about.

Everything they had worked for, everything they had sacrificed, was now intricately bound up in one another, in the success of the team, the harmony of the group.

If Jeonghan let himself want her, if he gave in to the feelings he had, it wasn’t just his heart at stake— it was all of them. It was the future they were building.

And the thought of jeopardizing that for his own selfish desire felt almost reckless.

Jeonghan remembered the way she’d looked at him that night, her expression raw and open, her guard completely down. He’d never seen her like that before, vulnerable in a way that made his chest ache.

And then, as the days passed, he noticed her pulling back, withdrawing in a way that felt almost calculated.

At every music show, every practice session, she managed to dodge him, carefully positioning herself on the opposite side of the room, turning her focus to anyone but him. She laughed with the others, exchanged inside jokes and friendly nudges, but when it came to him, there was a distance, a wall he could almost see growing between them. Her laughter never quite reached him, her gaze skimming over him as though he were nothing more than an afterthought.

It tore at him, that silence, the sudden shift from the closeness they’d shared to this careful, almost surgical separation. And it was in those quiet, lonely moments, watching her slip further away from him, that he realized he was willing to wait for her.

Jeonghan didn’t know how long it would take, or what it would mean for them, but he understood then that he couldn’t let her go completely. She had become too much a part of him, ingrained in his life in ways he couldn’t easily unravel.

So he held back, giving her the space she seemed to need, hoping that, in time, they would find their way back to each other.

Then came that night in the elevator, a memory that felt like a scar, a moment he would come to regret.

It was just the two of them, the air thick with an unspoken tension, the weight of their silence pressing in from all sides. He had wanted to tell her everything, to let her know that he felt it too, that he cared for her in ways that went beyond friendship, beyond the boundaries they’d so carefully constructed.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Instead, Jeonghan remembered hearing himself politely turning her down, saying things he didn’t fully believe but felt obligated to voice for the sake of professionalism, for the team, for the dream they were all chasing together.

He remembered watching as her expression shifted, her eyes widening in hurt before she blinked it away, forcing herself to remain composed.

In that small, confined space, he remembered seeing the walls going up around her, the protective armor slipping back into place.

Luna’s face was calm, expressionless, but he could see the way she clenched her fists, the slight tremor in her jaw as she forced herself to act unaffected. She gave him a nod, brushed it off as though it meant nothing, but he could see the effort it took her to hold it together. And then, as the elevator doors slid open, she bolted out, practically running down the hallway to her apartment, which was just next to his.

Jeonghan remembered standing there, frozen, watching her go, his heart sinking as he realized the magnitude of what he’d done.

Jeonghan remembered hurting her, far deeper than he’d intended, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

The next day, her eyes were red and swollen, the evidence of a night spent crying she tried to brush off with a smile, claiming it was the result of an emotional book she’d been reading. She laughed it off with the members, shrugging away their concern, but Jeonghan could see the truth in her gaze, the shadow of the pain he’d inflicted.

She avoided looking at him, her smile never quite reaching her eyes, and he felt a cold, sickening guilt settle in his chest. He had wanted to protect her, to keep their friendship intact, but instead, he’d left her hurt and alone.

It took Jeonghan a year to come to terms with it, a year of distance and polite indifference, a year of watching her laugh and live her life without him. But in that time, he realized something profound, something that had been there all along, buried under fear and caution.

Jeonghan realized he didn’t want this.

He didn’t want to keep pretending, to continue living his life as though she hadn’t become an irreplaceable part of him. She was there in his thoughts, his dreams, lingering in every quiet moment, every small ache that reminded him of what he’d let slip away.

He was done holding back, done letting his fears dictate the course of his life. He wanted her, wanted her laughter and her fire, her strength and her vulnerability. He wanted all of it, and for once, he didn’t care about the risks.

In that moment, he made a decision, one that felt as inevitable as the pull of the moon itself. He was going to make it right. He was going to show her that the feelings she had confessed, the feelings he’d once denied, were mutual.

Jeonghan was done pretending.

And with that realization, as clear and unyielding as the moonlight spilling through his window, Jeonghan realized that he loved her.

He was in love with her.

It was as simple, and as complicated, as that.

Jeonghan remembered the night they both finally snapped.

Jeonghan could remember every detail of that night, as though it had been etched into his memory with a fine-pointed needle.

The air had carried an electric charge from the start, a spark that simmered quietly beneath the laughter and celebration at Wonwoo’s birthday party. All fourteen of them were there, gathered together, lost in the rare joy of unwinding without the pressures of rehearsals, schedules, or the carefully curated masks they wore in public.

It was just them, SEVENTEEN, each one a distinct voice in a familiar chorus, but Jeonghan’s focus that night was singular— anchored on Luna.

He remembered watching her from across the room, how she moved in and out of conversations, her laughter ringing out like music against the low hum of the party.

There was something mesmerizing about the way she threw herself into the moment, like she could forget everything except the happiness of right then and there. She sang with a carefree abandon when the music started playing, her voice dipping into laughter as she pretended to hold a microphone, her eyes shining under the dim, warm glow of the lights.

Jeonghan watched her dance, free and unrestrained, her body swaying to the beat as though she were in her own world. She had this undeniable energy about her, something that seemed to draw everyone in and hold them captive, but for him, it was more than admiration.

It was longing— a deep, aching pull that seemed to only grow with each glance.

Jeonghan felt the tension winding tight in his chest as he watched her that night. She looked carefree, radiant in a way that made his heart clench, as if reminding him of every moment he’d denied himself the luxury of wanting her.

And as the night stretched on, as the party began to wind down and the others drifted off in groups or pairs, he found himself stepping forward, offering to take her home.

It wasn’t unusual— he was used to looking after her in little ways, making sure she got back safely, but this time, something felt different.

Jeonghan remembered how the air between them was charged, thick with a tension neither of them acknowledged but both seemed acutely aware of.

The car ride was quiet at first, the city lights flashing by as he drove, illuminating her face in quick bursts of neon and streetlamp glow. But beneath the silence, there was a simmering intensity, an unspoken anticipation hanging in the air.

Luna was close— closer than she’d been in what felt like an eternity, and he could feel her gaze flicking toward him, the barest hint of a smile playing on her lips. He matched her look, his eyes glinting with the same spark, the teasing edge of banter slipping naturally between them.

There was a flirtation in the air, a playful exchange that held layers beneath the surface, words that hinted at things they’d left unsaid for too long.

Jeonghan remembered feeling his restraint slipping, his usual control fraying with each passing moment. He’d spent so long keeping his feelings locked away, buried beneath friendship and professionalism, but now, sitting beside her with only the hum of the car engine and the quiet pulse of her presence, he could feel himself unraveling.

Luna was right there, just a breath away, her eyes daring him to cross the line they’d both been dancing around. His heart hammered in his chest, a steady, insistent rhythm urging him forward, and before he knew it, he was leaning in, drawn by a magnetic pull he could no longer resist.

Jeonghan remembered when their lips met, it was like a spark igniting a fuse. He remembered the sensation vividly— the warmth of her mouth against his, the softness of her lips, the way she tasted like a mixture of the wine she’d sipped, the lollipop she had been toying in her mouth, and something indescribably, unmistakably her.

It was dizzying, the kiss slow and lingering at first, each second stretching into something that felt endless.

But then, something shifted, a hunger building between them that neither seemed able to hold back. It was as if every emotion they’d kept bottled up over the years was spilling out in that one kiss, a flood of passion and longing that overwhelmed them both.

Jeonghan could feel his heart pounding, a fierce, wild beat that echoed in his ears as he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss with a desperation he hadn’t known he possessed. He felt as though he were finally breathing after holding his breath for too long, each touch, each press of her lips grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

In that moment, he knew, with a clarity that was almost frightening, that he never wanted this to end. He wanted to kiss her for the rest of his life, to keep her close, to feel her warmth and the undeniable spark that existed between them.

The night unfolded in a blur of whispered confessions and stolen touches, the passion between them growing with every passing moment.

They barely made it inside his apartment before they were caught up in each other again, tangled in an embrace that felt both exhilarating and terrifying in its intensity. Every touch, every look, was charged, as if they were rediscovering each other in a new, profound way.

The barriers they’d once built crumbled, leaving only raw emotion in their wake. That night, Jeonghan felt something shift within him, a realization settling deep in his chest as they finally allowed themselves to be honest about the feelings they’d both been hiding.

He remembered the way her fingers trailed along his skin, the warmth of her breath against his neck, the softness of her voice in the darkened room as they shared secrets, hopes, and fears that had once been too frightening to voice. And with each passing hour, as the night gave way to the first hints of dawn, he felt his heart bind itself to hers in a way that felt irrevocable.

By the time they fell asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jeonghan knew that this wasn’t something he could ever let go of.

She was his, and he was hers.

The line had been crossed, and there was no going back.

In the quiet morning light, as he lay beside her, watching her breathe, Jeonghan felt the weight of his feelings settle over him with a certainty that was both comforting and terrifying.

Jeonghan realized, in that stillness, that he was irrevocably in love with her.

Bae Jiyeon.

Luna.

The girl who had been his best friend, his confidante, the one he’d fought so hard to deny, had become everything to him. And as he looked at her, peaceful and unguarded beside him, he knew with absolute certainty that he wanted this— wanted her.

Jeonghan had always been a man of quiet revelations, but none had struck him so powerfully as the realization that he was irrevocably in love with Luna.

It was a truth that hit him like a bolt of lightning— sudden, fierce, and undeniable.

In that instant, he understood that every fleeting moment spent admiring her, every stolen glance and every silent wish, had been building toward this overwhelming desire.

For years, he had found himself captivated by the way Luna existed in her own world, lost in thought or immersed in the simple pleasures of life, and he had admired her fiercely. He had admired her since the day they met, a silent observer of her unguarded moments, and in each one he discovered something new that only deepened his affection. Her presence was like a soft melody that played constantly in the background of his life, familiar yet always capable of stirring his soul.

That realization, though, was only the beginning.

Jeonghan recalled a night that had forever changed the course of his heart— it wasn’t a grand, orchestrated moment in a fancy setting that had brought this realization upon him— it was something far simpler and infinitely more… them.

It was in the quiet hours of the early morning, when the world was hushed and the only sounds were the occasional murmur of a movie and the soft clatter of utensils. Jeonghan remembered admiring Luna in her pajamas, not adorned in the usual splendor of stage makeup and designer outfits, but in her most natural state— bare-faced, her long black hair loosely cascading over her shoulders, and her features soft with sleep. She sat on the edge of the sofa, her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her lips puckered in a habitual pout as she muttered under her breath something about the movie they were watching.

Luna was absorbed in her own world, minding her business and enjoying a late-night snack as they watched a movie together at around three in the morning.

As Luna reached for a dumpling she’d made— a small, humble morsel meant to satisfy a midnight craving— Jeonghan, true to his mischievous nature, swooped in and took the dumpling for himself.

The act was playful, yet in that unexpected moment, as Luna paused mid-bite and glared at him with a look that combined exasperation with an undeniable hint of affection, he felt something surge within him.

Her pouted expression, the slight scrunch of her nose, the way her eyes flickered with both annoyance and longing— it was all etched into his heart like a sacred memory.

Jeonghan watched as she scolded him silently with her gaze, and even though he could not hear her words clearly over the soft hum of the TV, he knew exactly what she was saying. Luna never minded sharing food as long as she was asked; it was the abrupt, uninvited gesture that annoyed her. And yet, even as he delighted in her feigned irritation, he was overwhelmed by the sudden clarity that these simple, everyday moments— these playful battles over a single dumpling— were the very things that made him want to spend his life with her.

In that instant, as he saw the fierce, protective spark in her eyes and felt the soft pressure of her hands as she retorted silently with her gaze, Jeonghan’s heart pounded harder than ever before. He felt both physically and emotionally electrified— his pulse racing, his thoughts spiraling into a realization he could no longer ignore.

Yoon Jeonghan wanted to marry Bae Jiyeon.

Not because they were in a fancy date or a glamorous event, but because in that quiet, unguarded moment, as he watched Luna in her most authentic state, he recognized that her presence was his anchor. Her very existence, with all its flaws and beauty, was something he wanted to cherish forever.

The realization was as sudden as it was profound, a mixture of joy and a hint of self-mockery at his own spontaneity. He chuckled inwardly, marveling at how unexpectedly his heart had leaped from one simple, unadorned moment to the clarity of knowing he loved her.

It was in those vulnerable, ordinary moments— when she was just Luna, not the dazzling idol on stage— that he saw the raw truth of their bond. He knew then, unequivocally, that her soft, pouted expressions, her effortless ways of being both strong and delicate, were everything to him.

That night, as the movie played on in the background, long forgotten, Jeonghan lay with Luna curled up against his chest, her body rising and falling in the rhythm of deep, peaceful sleep. The dim glow of the television cast soft shadows across the room, flickering faintly over her face.

Even in slumber, she was breathtaking.

His arms were wrapped around her, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the fabric of her oversized pajama top, and his heart— still hammering from the realization that had struck him like a tidal wave only hours before— was struggling to calm itself.

He felt warm.

Not just in the physical sense, from the way her body pressed into his, but in the way that reached down into his very soul.

The kind of warmth that settled in his chest and refused to leave.

The kind that whispered of forever.

His thoughts were relentless, swirling around in a fervent, chaotic mess of emotions, excitement, and impatience.

He wanted to marry her.

He wanted to slip a ring onto her finger and promise her forever.

The notion should have been terrifying— the weight of such a commitment, the irreversible nature of it— but it wasn’t.

It was the easiest decision he’d ever made.

He had never been so sure of anything in his entire life. And now that he had acknowledged it, truly let it sink into his bones, he felt almost foolish for not realizing it sooner.

Of course, it had always been Luna.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Jeonghan shifted slightly, reaching out to grab his phone from the coffee table. His movements were slow, practiced, barely disrupting the cocoon of warmth they had created together.

The screen lit up, the brightness making his eyes squint momentarily as he adjusted to the harsh glow. Without hesitation, he opened his messages, his fingers flying across the screen with a sense of urgency that had his heart racing all over again.

He created a new group chat with the members, ensuring that Luna was not included. A smirk played on his lips as he stared at the name he had given the group, amused at his own wit, but there was no time to dwell on it. His fingers moved swiftly, typing out the message that would set everything in motion.

The words stared back at him, illuminated in the soft glow of his screen, a simple sentence that carried the weight of his entire future.

There was no turning back now, not that he wanted to.

He pressed send, his heart giving an erratic thump as the message disappeared into the ether.

The thought of what was to come filled him with a strange mix of anticipation and serenity. It was only a matter of time now. A matter of time before he found the perfect ring. Before he planned the perfect moment. Before he knelt before Luna with his heart laid bare and asked the only question that had ever truly mattered.

It was only a matter of time before Jeonghan made her his forever.

Jeonghan, who Luna had once taught to talk to the moon, used to whisper to it about her— about the girl who had turned his world on its axis, about the love that had bloomed in his heart like an unstoppable force.

Night after night, the biggest little thing in the sky had been his silent witness, watching as he reached for the stars, for her. And now, as he lay beside her, his future crystallizing in his mind, he realized the stars had always been reaching back.

Because the moon, in all its quiet brilliance, had given him a piece of its own light— Luna.

His Luna.

The one who had become his universe.

ೃ⁀➷ comment or message me to be added to the tag list :)

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: ̗̀➛ requests are always open ♡ - lunaఌ

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[blueberry3241]

★彡 Bts reaction to their S/O having a child from a past relationship

↷ Pairing : bts x reader ↷ Genre : Fluff, Angst,Comfort ↷ word count : 2,440 words

↳ Disclaimer : This is an original work of fiction. All characters, settings, and story elements are my own creation. Any resemblance to real people, places, or events is purely coincidental. Please do not reproduce, distribute, or adapt this work without my explicit permission.

↝Namjoon

Namjoon sat across from you at the small café, his fingers wrapped around his coffee mug as he listened intently. You had been dating for a few months now, and everything was going well. However, there was something you hadn’t told him yet—something that you were terrified would change the way he saw you.

Taking a deep breath, you finally confessed, “Namjoon… there’s something you should know. I have a child from a previous relationship.”

Namjoon blinked, clearly surprised, but he didn’t say anything right away. He leaned back in his chair, processing your words.

“How old is your child?” he asked softly, his voice free of judgment.

Relief washed over you at his calm response. “She’s five… her name is Hana.”

Namjoon smiled, the dimples you loved appearing on his cheeks. “That’s a beautiful name.”

You searched his face for any hint of discomfort or hesitation. “I understand if this changes things between us. I should have told you earlier, but—”

Namjoon reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “Why would it change anything? If anything, I admire you more. Being a parent is no easy task, and yet, here you are.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “You really mean that?”

He nodded. “Of course. I’d love to meet Hana whenever you’re ready. But even if it takes time, know that this doesn’t scare me away. If I’m dating you, I’m also accepting every part of your life, including her.”

At that moment, you knew Namjoon was someone you could truly trust.

↝Jin

Jin nearly choked on his food when you blurted out your confession over dinner. “You have a what?!”

You flinched at his volume, looking down at your plate. “A son. His name is Minho… he’s six.”

Jin blinked rapidly, his mouth opening and closing. “Wait, hold on—why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“I was scared,” you admitted. “Scared you wouldn’t want to be with someone who already has a child.”

Jin let out a deep sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “I… I won’t lie, I’m a little shocked. But not because it’s a bad thing. Just… I didn’t expect it.”

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. “I understand if this is too much.”

Jin frowned and reached across the table to take your hand. “Hey, don’t say that. I just need some time to wrap my head around it. But if you think I’d leave you just because you have a kid, you clearly don’t know how stubborn I am.”

You laughed weakly, the tension easing.

“I mean,” Jin continued, smirking, “if he likes dad jokes, I think we’ll get along just fine.”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out.

↝Yoongi

Yoongi sat in silence after you told him. He wasn’t angry or upset, just deep in thought.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. “How old is your kid?”

“Three,” you said softly. “Her name is Jiyeon.”

Yoongi nodded, then leaned back against the couch. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was scared you’d leave.”

Yoongi sighed, rubbing his temples. “Do you really think so little of me?”

Your heart clenched. “No! It’s just… a lot of people wouldn’t want to date someone with a child.”

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “That’s bullshit. If I like you, I like all of you. That includes Jiyeon.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “So… you don’t mind?”

Yoongi scoffed. “Why would I? If anything, I respect you even more. Raising a child isn’t easy, and you’re doing it.”

You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.

Yoongi smirked slightly. “Though… I should warn you, I’m not great with kids.”

You chuckled. “Don’t worry, she’s good at making people fall for her.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like mother, like daughter, huh?”

You blushed, but you knew—this was Yoongi’s way of saying he was here to stay.

↝Jhope

You sat across from Hoseok in your small living room, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

Hoseok noticed your nervousness and placed his hand over yours. “Y/N, what’s wrong? You’ve been so tense lately.”

You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand. “Hobi… there’s something I need to tell you.”

He nodded, his expression soft. “You can tell me anything.”

You hesitated, then finally spoke. “I have a son. His name is Minjae, and he’s four years old.”

Silence. Hoseok blinked, as if processing your words. His grip on your hand never loosened, but you couldn’t read his expression.

“You… you have a kid?” His voice was quiet, uncertain.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “Yes. I should have told you sooner, but I was afraid. Not everyone is willing to date someone who already has a child.”

Hoseok suddenly let out a breath, and then—he laughed. It wasn’t mocking, but rather full of warmth and joy. You stared at him, confused.

“Oh my god, Y/N, you had me so scared! I thought you were about to break up with me or something!”

Your eyes widened. “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Hoseok grinned. “Y/N, this is amazing! I love kids! And now I get to love you and your son? This is the best news ever!”

Your breath hitched. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do!” He beamed, eyes sparkling. “Minjae, huh? Oh, I bet he’s adorable! When can I meet him?”

Tears welled in your eyes. “You… you really want to meet him?”

Hoseok took both your hands in his, squeezing them gently. “Y/N, I’m serious about you. That means I’m serious about Minjae, too. I want to be part of your lives, if you’ll let me.”

At that moment, you knew—Hoseok was truly someone special.

↝Jimin

Jimin hummed softly as he stirred his tea, his eyes on you. “You’ve been acting a little distant lately, Y/N. What’s on your mind?”

You opened your mouth but hesitated. How could you tell him? What if he thought you were too much trouble?

Sensing your hesitation, Jimin reached for your hand. “Hey,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You can tell me anything.”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “Jimin… I have a daughter. Her name is Ara, and she’s four.”

Jimin’s hand froze around his mug, his lips parting in surprise. His eyes widened slightly, but there was no judgment in them—just quiet shock.

“A daughter?” he repeated, as if making sure he heard correctly.

You nodded, heart hammering. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but I was scared. I didn’t know how you’d react.”

Jimin set his mug down and turned to face you fully. “Y/N… I won’t lie, this is unexpected.”

Your stomach clenched. Here it comes—the rejection.

But instead, Jimin reached up, cupping your cheek gently. “But why would you think I’d leave because of that?”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Because not everyone wants to take on something like this.”

Jimin’s gaze softened. “Y/N… I love you. And that means I love all of you—including Ara.”

Your breath hitched. “You really mean that?”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Of course. If she’s anything like you, I already know she’s the most precious thing in the world.”

Tears spilled over as you clung to him. “You’re really not scared?”

Jimin chuckled, rubbing your back. “Maybe a little. But I’d be honored to get to know her.”

At that moment, you knew—you and Ara had just gained someone truly special.

↝Taehyung

Taehyung sat beside you on your couch, his arm lazily draped over your shoulders. He was humming a song, completely unaware of the internal battle raging inside you.

“Taehyung… there’s something I need to tell you.”

He turned to you immediately, his eyes filled with curiosity. “What is it, love?”

You swallowed, gripping your hands together. “I… I have a son. His name is Daehyun. He’s five.”

Taehyung froze. His usual playful expression shifted into something unreadable. For a moment, you panicked. Was he upset?

Then, suddenly, he gasped.

“You have a kid?!” His voice was full of excitement, not anger.

Your eyes widened. “Uh… yes?”

Taehyung’s entire face lit up. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?! This is amazing!”

You blinked. “You… you think so?”

He nodded vigorously. “Of course! Kids are incredible! And if he’s anything like you, I already know he’s amazing.”

Your heart swelled. “I was scared you’d leave.”

Taehyung frowned, grabbing both your hands. “Y/N, don’t ever think that. If I love you, I love all of you. And that includes Daehyun.”

Tears welled in your eyes. “You really mean that?”

Taehyung nodded, grinning. “Yes! Can I meet him soon? I wanna be the cool parent.”

You laughed through your tears, your heart finally feeling at peace.

↝Jungkook

Jungkook fidgeted with his sleeves, glancing at you curiously. “Y/N, you’ve been acting kinda off lately. Is something wrong?”

You hesitated, your heart hammering in your chest. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

Jungkook sat up straight. “Okay… I’m listening.”

Taking a deep breath, you finally spoke. “I have a son. His name is Jisoo, and he’s three.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened. His lips parted slightly, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything.

Your stomach twisted. “I understand if this is too much for you.”

Jungkook shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I’m just… surprised.”

You bit your lip, waiting for his next words.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I won’t lie, this is new to me. I don’t know much about kids, and I don’t know if I’d be good at this.”

Your chest ached. “I understand.”

“But,” Jungkook continued firmly, “I want to try.”

Your eyes widened. “You… do?”

He nodded, determination burning in his gaze. “I really like you, Y/N. And if Jisoo is part of your life, then I want to be part of his, too.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he interrupted, squeezing your hands. “I might mess up. I might be awkward. But I promise, I’ll do my best.”

You threw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

He held you close, whispering, “I’m not going anywhere.”

At that moment, you knew—you and Jisoo had just gained someone who would love you both unconditionally.

[thedensworld]

Logical Project | C.Sc

Genre: fluff, humour, backstreet au

Summary: Illogical project dismissed! Now, Seungcheol had to face a new problem, Jiyeon and Jeonghan.

Read the first part here

Tomorrow is my first day working at a new place! Wish me luck (and won't get any treatment like Y/n)

“That’s it?” Seungcheol’s voice cut through the silence, snapping you out of the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head. You blinked up at him, taken aback by the question. That’s it? What else was there to say when someone just confessed their feelings out of nowhere?

Do a cartwheel?

Definitely not.

“Do you… want to come inside?” The words slipped out before you could stop yourself.

Wait, what? Panic flared in your chest. You mentally slapped yourself. Why did you say that? You glanced back at your apartment, suddenly remembering the chaotic mess you’d left behind. The dishes were still piled up in the sink, and cooking equipment was strewn across the kitchen counter from your failed attempt to make breakfast earlier. The last thing Seungcheol needed to see after baring his soul was the state of your post-breakdown kitchen.

“I—I mean,” you stammered, desperate to recover from your blunder. “We could go to a nearby café instead… Or—if you’re more comfortable—we can talk in my… living room?” You cringed inwardly, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks as you realized you’d just invited him inside again. Twice. As if you were trying to send some sort of signal.

Get it together, Y/N.

“Sure,” Seungcheol replied with a casual nod, as if you hadn’t just awkwardly fumbled your way through an invitation to your personal space. He didn’t look the least bit phased by your internal meltdown.

“Uh—great!” You cleared your throat, feeling your face flush. What kind of person invites their boss—well, former boss—into their messy apartment right after he drops a confession like that?

You spun around and led the way back into the building, too afraid to turn around and see the expression on his face. You could only imagine what he must be thinking. Maybe he was silently judging the disarray of your life, or worse—contemplating running for the hills before he got dragged into your chaos.

Is this really okay? you wondered as you fumbled with your keys, forcing yourself to unlock the door to your apartment. When the door swung open, you hesitated, peering into the living room as if expecting to find an even bigger mess than you remembered.

“So… I didn’t exactly get around to cleaning up,” you mumbled as a way of apology. Seungcheol stepped in beside you, taking in the sight of scattered notebooks and the remnants of an unfinished dinner on the coffee table.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his tone light, as if you’d just invited him into a pristine penthouse suite instead of an apartment that looked like a mild hurricane had swept through. “It’s not as bad as you think.”

You scoffed softly, shaking your head. “Are you sure? Because I’m pretty sure even the couch is giving me a look of judgment right now.”

He chuckled—a deep, genuine sound that took you by surprise. “Well, if the couch starts talking, then I’ll be worried.”

A snort escaped you before you could stop it, and you quickly clamped a hand over your mouth. This entire situation was surreal. Here you were, standing in your barely-presentable living room with the Choi Seungcheol, exchanging banter like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Let’s just… sit,” you suggested weakly, gesturing to the slightly cluttered couch.

You both settled down, the cushions sinking under the weight of unspoken words. Seungcheol leaned back, glancing around your place before his gaze landed on you.

“So… what now?” he asked softly, his eyes never leaving your face.

You swallowed, suddenly aware of the intensity in his gaze. “I don’t know,” you murmured honestly. “I didn’t really… expect any of this.”

Seungcheol smiled slightly, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his expression. “Me neither.”

You both lapsed into silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts. The awkwardness from earlier hadn’t entirely disappeared, but now there was something else—something tentative and hopeful—hovering between you.

No, maybe inviting him in wasn't a good idea after all.

*

Your clothes were neatly pressed, your hair smelled faintly of some overpriced conditioner that probably didn’t work any better than regular shampoo, and your smile? Absolutely radiant. You practically glowed as you approached the front entrance of the towering office building.

This was it. You were back in the workforce, and nothing—absolutely nothing—was going to ruin your mood today.

You swiped your shiny new ID card through the scanner and watched the security gate slide open with a satisfying click. Ah, that sound.

You flashed the security guard a broad smile, even though he looked slightly alarmed by your level of enthusiasm so early in the morning. With a cheerful nod, you made your way to the elevator and squeezed inside with the rush-hour crowd.

As more people piled in, you found yourself gradually nudged to the back of the elevator, squished up against the corner like a sardine in a tin can. You stood there, beaming, as someone’s elbow jabbed into your side, and another person’s backpack thumped against your shoulder.

It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. I’m working again! I have a job! I have an income!

The elevator finally reached your floor, and you stepped out with a polite nod to everyone else crammed in the space. Walking into the office with your head held high, you approached the reception area and introduced yourself.

“Everyone, please meet Ji Y/N,” Mr. Kim, your supervisor, motioning toward you with a grand flourish that felt a bit too theatrical. “She’ll be joining us as the new staff.”

You turned to the team, offering them your best smile and a small wave. A few people returned the gesture, while others exchanged knowing looks.

“It’s nice to meet you all. I’m excited to work with everyone,” you said brightly, trying not to sound too eager. But for some reason, the room was oddly quiet.

Just then, Mr. Kim cleared his throat and continued, “Oh, and, uh, a quick note: I think it’s fair to mention that Ms. Ji is… well, she’s related to our CEO.”

A murmur of recognition rippled through the group, and you suddenly found yourself at the center of what felt like a mini gossip fest.

Oh no, oh no, oh no, you chanted internally, feeling your earlier excitement waver. You blinked at Mr. Kim, a polite, confused smile plastered on your face as you struggled to process what he’d just said.

“Related?” someone whispered. “Isn’t that a bit of an understatement?”

“She’s the CEO’s sister,” another voice added helpfully.

Well, that’s one way to let the cat out of the bag.

You forced a laugh, though it sounded more like a strangled cough. “Yes, well… It’s not really—”

But the damage was done. The team’s expressions shifted from curious to knowing, and a few eyebrows arched in interest.

“So, you’re our boss’s little sister, huh?” one of them asked, his tone light but laced with something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Must be nice to have connections,” someone else muttered, though it was low enough that you could pretend not to hear it.

You opened your mouth to respond but couldn’t come up with anything that didn’t sound defensive or self-deprecating.

“Um, yeah,” you managed awkwardly, shooting a glance at Mr. Kim, who looked like he was one second away from shrinking into the carpet. “I just… I’m really looking forward to contributing and learning, and—”

“—and working for your brother?” another voice teased, and you nearly groaned out loud.

You swallowed hard, keeping that tight smile in place as you nodded. “Exactly! Working… like, all of you. Just… like you all are.”

Mr. Kim let out a nervous chuckle. “Alright, everyone. Let’s welcome Ms. Ji and give her some space to settle in. I’m sure she’s eager to get started.”

As you turned to follow Mr. Kim to your desk, you tried to shake off the lingering embarrassment. You took a deep breath, pasting your earlier smile back on. So what if they know? It doesn’t matter! You’re here to work, and that’s what matters!

*

You stepped out of the office building with a small sigh of relief. It had been a long day—no, scratch that—an agonizingly long day of trying to prove yourself to people who were convinced you were only there because of your brother.

Your gaze landed on the sleek black car parked discreetly at the end of the street. The sight of it made you smile, if only for a moment, before you quickened your pace and slipped into the passenger seat.

As soon as the door closed, you sank back into the leather seat, letting out a dramatic sigh. Seungcheol glanced over from the driver’s seat, his expression a mix of amusement and concern as he watched you pout.

“You look absolutely exhausted,” he remarked softly. His eyes traced your features—the drooping eyelids, the slight frown, the way your lips were pressed into a tight line. All in stark contrast to the cheerful, lively voice note you’d sent him that morning, declaring how excited you were for your first official day on the job.

“Drive before my brother sees your car.” Your voice came out grumbly, the weariness apparent as you glanced around.

Seungcheol chuckled softly. “Alright, princess,” he murmured, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips as he turned the ignition.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye as he pulled out into the street, the soft hum of the car filling the silence between you.

“Bad day?” he asked gently, not pushing, just offering you a chance to vent if you needed to.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest like a sulking child. “More like an ‘everybody’s-still-staring-at-me-like-I’m-a-spoiled-brat-who-got-hired-because-of-my-brother’ day.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow,“I’m sure you did great,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “You always do.”

You gave him a sideways glance, your lips twitching slightly. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr. CEO. You don’t have to deal with your brother’s employees eyeing you like you’re about to break into a spoiled tantrum every time you say something.”

He let out a low laugh, the sound wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. “True, but I do know how hard you work, Y/N. You don’t need to prove yourself to them. They’ll see it eventually.”

His confidence in you was touching, but it only made you sigh. “Yeah, well, it’d be a lot easier if a certain someone hadn’t barged into the office, grinning like a Cheshire cat and announcing to everyone that I was his precious little sister.”

Seungcheol’s grin widened as he glanced at you again. “Jeonghan really said that?”

“Basically, yes,” you muttered, the memory of your brother’s teasing smile flashing through your mind. “He might as well have held up a giant banner saying, ‘She’s here because of me, everyone!’”

Seungcheol snickered, shaking his head slightly. “Your brother does have a flair for the dramatic.”

“Understatement of the century,” you grumbled, but there was a small smile tugging at your lips now.

Silence settled between you, a comfortable one this time. The kind that only came when you were with someone who knew you well enough not to fill the quiet with meaningless chatter.

It had been like this between you and Seungcheol ever since he’d shown up at your apartment that night and confessed—awkward and unexpected, but somehow, so undeniably right. From there, things had developed naturally. Texts became calls, calls became late-night coffee runs, and soon, he was sneaking you out for lunches and dinners, or showing up at your place just to talk.

But your brother? He still had no idea. And considering how protective Jeonghan was, he’d probably lock you in a tower if he knew you were dating his best friend.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungcheol’s voice broke through your thoughts, his eyes glancing at you with that familiar, gentle look that always made your heart flutter.

“Just… us,” you admitted quietly, resting your head against the seat as you looked at him. “I like this. Being with you like this. Even if we have to keep it a secret.”

Seungcheol’s gaze softened, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as he turned down a quieter road, away from the main streets. “I like it too. More than I thought I would, actually.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You mean you didn’t expect to like sneaking around with me?”

“Not exactly what I meant,” he replied with a laugh. “But I didn’t expect to feel this… happy. With you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart skip a beat. You looked at him for a long moment, taking in the way his hair fell softly over his forehead, the way his jaw tightened slightly whenever he was thinking hard about something.

“Cheol…” you began, but the words died in your throat. What were you supposed to say? That you were falling for him? That you’d fallen long before he’d confessed? That the thought of him made everything else bearable?

Before you could find the right words, Seungcheol slowed the car to a stop. You glanced outside and realized he’d pulled over to a small, quiet park. There was no one else around—just the two of you.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “I know it’s not easy, keeping this from Jeonghan. But I promise, when the time’s right, we’ll tell him.”

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around your bag. “And what if he doesn’t accept it?”

Seungcheol’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then I’ll keep fighting for us until he does.”

His words hung in the air between you, the weight of them sinking into your heart and settling there.

You smiled then, a real smile this time, and leaned over, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “Alright, Mr. Choi. Let’s see how long we can keep this up before my brother catches on.”

Seungcheol chuckled, his hand reaching over to take yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Challenge accepted, princess.”

*

Seungcheol looked up from his computer screen when his office door swung open without warning. He leaned back in his chair, watching as Jiyeon stormed inside, her steps frantic, shoulders tense. It wasn’t hard to guess who had set her off like this. With a subtle sigh, he shifted his attention fully to her.

“Jiyeon,” he greeted her, his voice calm in contrast to the energy she was emitting. “You look... restless.”

“Restless?” she snapped, stopping right in front of his desk. “More like infuriated!”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, not looking particularly surprised. “I’m guessing this has something to do with Jeonghan?”

Jiyeon’s mouth opened and closed, a mixture of frustration and disbelief flashing across her face. “He just canceled our lunch date—again. No warning, no apology, just a brief message saying he’s busy.” She took a deep breath, and for a moment, Seungcheol thought she might scream. “He’s always busy, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk, the corners of his lips lifting into an amused smile. “What did you expect? It’s Jeonghan we’re talking about.”

“Not this!” Jiyeon exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “It’s been two years, Seungcheol. Two years since we got engaged, and not once has he shown even a shred of genuine interest in me. "

Seungcheol listened to Jiyeon ranting on and on about Jeonghan, but he couldn’t help his mind from drifting elsewhere. He kept nodding at the right moments, offering occasional comments when she paused for breath, but a part of him was completely distracted.

“I thought things would change after the accident, you know?” Jiyeon’s voice was strained, on the verge of breaking.

Seungcheol blinked, his gaze refocusing on her face. “Jeonghan… he’s always been good at playing his part, hasn’t he?”

Jiyeon stared at him, her lips tightening. “You’re making it sound like a game, Seungcheol.”

“It’s not a game,” he said softly. “But you know how Jeonghan is. He compartmentalizes things. This engagement was always about business for him, nothing more.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Business… Everything in our lives seems to come back to that, doesn’t it?”

Seungcheol didn’t answer. He watched her, a faint furrow forming between his brows. He could see how much the engagement weighed on her, the toll it had taken over the past two years.

Part of him wanted to offer her some comfort, to give her some sort of answer that could make this all easier. But another part—the one that had become more prominent ever since he confessed to you—kept whispering something else. Something selfish.

If Jiyeon and Jeonghan finally called it quits… It would benefit him, wouldn’t it?

It would give Seungcheol the space to focus on his relationship with you without constantly looking over his shoulder.

Because if anyone found out about you and him… Well, the repercussions wouldn’t be small. He knew that better than anyone.

“Why do you keep putting yourself through this?” he asked, his voice softer now, a touch of genuine concern in it. “If it’s hurting you this much, why not just call off the engagement?”

Jiyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Seungcheol knew she was scrutinizing him, searching for any ulterior motives. He kept his expression open, neutral, but inside, his thoughts were spinning.

Did this make him a terrible person? Maybe. But then, wasn’t it Jeonghan’s fault for treating Jiyeon like a mere business obligation in the first place? And wasn’t it Jiyeon’s fault for allowing herself to be strung along like this?

And wasn’t it his right to be a little selfish, after everything?

“Call it off?” Jiyeon echoed, her voice small and disbelieving. “You’ve never been this supportive of me calling it off before. Why the sudden change of heart?”

Seungcheol watched her, feeling the weight of the question. He should have expected this; Jiyeon was sharp—sharper than people often gave her credit for.

He took a deep breath and offered her a small, wry smile. “People change. Perspectives change. You’re my cousin, Jiyeon, and if this engagement is making you miserable, I don’t see the point of dragging it out.”

Jiyeon’s gaze narrowed further, suspicion glimmering in her eyes. “You’ve never cared this much about my happiness before, Seungcheol.”

Ouch. He had to give it to her—she didn’t hold back when she sensed something was off. But Seungcheol didn’t flinch. Instead, he shrugged lightly.

“Maybe I’ve just gotten soft.” He tilted his head slightly, letting a hint of a smile touch his lips. “Or maybe I’ve started to realize how pointless it is to force people to stay in places they don’t belong.”

Jiyeon continued to stare at him, her gaze calculating. “Are you… seeing someone?”

The question hit him harder than he expected, but he managed to keep his face composed.

“Jiyeon, my personal life isn’t what’s important right now.”

“Oh, it is important if you’re seeing someone, and that’s why you’re pushing me to call off my engagement,” she pressed, voice lower now, more intense. “If this is about someone else, then I deserve to know.”

Seungcheol sighed, shaking his head slowly. “It’s not about me,” he murmured. “It’s about you. And what you want, Jiyeon. Jeonghan’s my friend, but you’re also my family. I don’t want you stuck in something that’s not going anywhere, no matter what’s happening in my life.”

There was a flicker of something in Jiyeon’s eyes—hesitation, maybe. Uncertainty. She held his gaze for a long, tense moment, then finally exhaled, shoulders slumping slightly.

“Fine,” she muttered, rubbing her temples as if trying to soothe a headache. “But I’m not done with this conversation.”

Seungcheol’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I didn’t expect you to be.”

*

You sat across from Jeonghan at the bustling barbecue joint, poking at the sizzling meat on the grill with a pout. This wasn’t exactly what you had in mind when he texted you about dinner. You’d envisioned fine dining, A5 Wagyu steak, and maybe a glass of an expensive, aged wine. It would have been a perfect way to celebrate one month of officially working at your brother’s company.

Instead, here you were, in a casual barbecue restaurant with loud chatter all around, the smell of grilled meat clinging to your clothes. Though, you had to admit—maybe reluctantly—the food did look good. And Jeonghan had been thoughtful enough to order all your favorites.

“Eat up,” he said, flipping a piece of pork belly onto your plate. “You’ve lost weight.”

You shrugged, choosing to ignore his comment. Of course, you had. You’d been strict about your diet lately. You didn’t want to show up in front of Seungcheol looking like a stuffed dumpling on a random day. But that didn’t mean you were going to deny yourself a good meal tonight. If nothing else, you’d at least get something out of this dinner.

Jeonghan glanced at you, probably noticing your half-hearted expression. “I heard you’ve been doing well at work,” he said, his tone light but watchful.

You raised an eyebrow, giving him a look. “You’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

He smiled, unbothered. “Of course. I had to make sure my little sister wasn’t causing trouble for the marketing team.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a bite of the pork belly. Despite your initial annoyance, you couldn’t help but appreciate his support.

“Everything good with you and Jiyeon?” you asked suddenly, steering the conversation away from yourself. It had been months since you last saw Jiyeon ever since the car accident.

Jeonghan’s shoulders tensed slightly, but he nodded. “Yeah… we’re good.”

His words were casual, but you noticed the way his gaze dropped to the grill, avoiding yours. You tilted your head, watching him intently. “The feelings still the same?” you pressed gently, knowing you were treading on delicate ground.

Jeonghan took a deep breath, lifting his eyes slowly. His lips twitched, a shadow of his usual confident smirk appearing and then disappearing just as quickly.

He looked up, meeting your gaze squarely. “Jiyeon’s… pretty,” he said, almost to himself. “She’s smart, driven. She’d make a great partner for anyone.”

A bitter laugh escaped him. He glanced down at his hands, shaking his head slightly. “It’s just… there’s something inside me that stops me from falling for her. And I can’t put it into words.”

The frustration in his voice was palpable. It made your chest ache for him, this man who’d always been so sure of himself, now struggling to grasp his own emotions.

“It’s alright, Jeonghan,” you murmured, your voice soft, comforting. “You don’t have to force yourself to feel something that isn’t there.”

Jeonghan didn’t respond, his eyes drifting away as if searching for answers in the smoke curling up from the grill. The silence between you was heavy, filled with words unspoken and pain unaddressed. He’d been there for Jiyeon, done everything a good fiancé would do. But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was only playing the role of a fiancé—not really living it.

And as you sat there, you couldn’t help but think back to Seungcheol’s words from earlier that day.

“If Jeonghan and Jiyeon finally decide to call it off… it wouldn’t be the end of the world, you know?”

You hadn’t understood what he meant at the time. But now, looking at Jeonghan’s weary expression, the way he forced himself to be the person Jiyeon needed, you began to see it.

Maybe, just maybe, calling it off would be the best thing—for everyone involved. Including Seungcheol, who’d seemed a little too relieved at the thought of the engagement ending.

You shook your head, trying to push away the unsettling thought. No, it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about what Seungcheol and you might gain. It was about your brother’s happiness.

You sighed, turning your attention back to the grill. The meat was starting to char at the edges, and you quickly flipped it over, frowning at the burnt bits.

Maybe Seungcheol was right. Maybe some things weren’t meant to be fixed, but to be set free.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for Jeonghan to let go of the life he thought he was supposed to live… and find one where he could finally be happy.

*

Jeonghan removed his engagement ring and placed it on the table in front of Jiyeon’s parents. The sound of the metal touching the wooden surface seemed to echo in the otherwise silent room. Jiyeon’s parents stared at the ring, disbelief etched across their faces as they looked back and forth between their daughter and Jeonghan. Jiyeon remained silent beside him, her gaze fixed on the table as if she could avoid the weight of the moment entirely.

Before her parents could voice their outrage, Jiyeon took off her own ring and set it beside his, an unspoken affirmation that this decision had been made together. The rings, once symbols of a future they were supposed to build, now lay side by side, abandoned.

“I realized that I’m not ready to settle,” Jeonghan said, his voice steady but soft. He looked directly at Jiyeon’s father. “My priority right now is my sister. I don’t want to keep hurting Jiyeon by holding on to something I can’t fully commit to.”

Jiyeon’s father, a man usually composed and measured, narrowed his eyes. “And you’re prepared for the consequences of this?” he asked, voice low with an edge of warning.

Jeonghan met his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes, I’ve thought it through. I’m aware of what this means for both our families, and I’m sorry for how this will affect our businesses. But it’s the right thing to do.”

A heavy silence settled in the room. Jiyeon’s mother let out a soft, almost inaudible sigh, while her father’s stern expression remained unchanged. They knew what Jeonghan was referring to—the contracts and collaborations between the two families that would likely dissolve now that the engagement was off. But none of it mattered anymore. Not when Jiyeon’s empty gaze mirrored Jeonghan’s.

Jeonghan’s lips twitched, offering a small, remorseful smile. “I apologize once again,” he murmured, bowing his head. It was a gesture not just of respect, but of finality.

The drive home felt like a blur. The city lights outside the car window blended into a sea of color as he navigated through Seoul’s busy streets. He should’ve felt lighter, relieved even. But all he felt was a hollow emptiness, a void where expectations and duty used to reside.

When he finally stepped into the house, he was greeted by the quiet stillness that came with being alone. The maid offered a polite smile and a nod before retreating, leaving him in the large, empty living room. His eyes wandered to the framed family photo on the wall—the one taken two days before everything changed.

A little you, perched on your father’s lap, smiling brightly at the camera. His younger self stood beside your mother, his expression carefree, with no trace of the weight he’d eventually carry. That picture captured a moment frozen in time—before the car accident that took your parents, before the responsibilities of the family business fell on his shoulders.

He’d been so young, barely an adult himself. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t prepared for the endless days and sleepless nights that followed, learning how to run a business while grieving. But he had to be ready. For you, for the legacy left behind. He pushed himself harder than anyone could imagine, hoping that if he tried hard enough, he’d find happiness at the end of it all.

But it never came. He never found it.

Until you came back to Seoul after graduation.

You’d breezed into his life like a whirlwind, bringing color and laughter back into a world that had been gray for too long. Your presence reminded him of what it felt like to be happy again. He cherished seeing you smile, watching you rediscover life with the kind of enthusiasm he’d long since buried.

Then he saw you, smiling at Seungcheol at the Heidos Group Anniversary. It was the first time he noticed that familiar spark in your eyes. The same one you’d had back in college, when he’d shown you a photo of his roommate and you’d teased him with a mischievous grin.

“Wow, you have a handsome friend. Why don’t you introduce us?” you’d joked.

He remembered the look on his face back then—the way he’d sworn he’d never let you two meet. Your crush on Seungcheol was a topic he never took lightly, though he’d played it off as an overprotective brother act. He hated it, seeing that giddy, admiring look on your face, even if he’d never said a word.

And then, he watched you grow up, choosing paths that always seemed to lead back to Seungcheol—whether it was working at Heidos Food or insisting on attending the same events. When you’d finally landed a job at Heidos Food, the excitement in your voice had made his chest tighten with something close to fear.

“The time has come,” he’d thought bitterly.

Jeonghan knew he couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t stand in the way of fate, no matter how much he wanted to. Because if there was anyone who could give you the kind of love and happiness he couldn’t, it was Seungcheol.

The day when he saw Seungcheol’s car parked in front of your house, he realized he’d been right all along. He’d sensed that whatever it was between you and Seungcheol was finally unfolding, blooming into something he couldn’t control.

And now, as he stood in the dimly lit hallway of his house, staring at that old family photo, he felt a strange sense of peace. Letting go of Jiyeon, refusing to force himself into a life he didn’t want, had been the right decision.

Because he couldn’t stand to see you unhappy. And if Seungcheol could bring you joy, then everything—letting go of his engagement, enduring the aftermath—would be worth it.

Jeonghan turned away from the photo, his gaze lingering on the empty, silent house. Yes, he thought, his heart aching but resolute. Letting go was never easy, but some things needed to be set free so that something new could begin.

And maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to start letting go of the life he thought he should lead… and find one where he could finally just be.

*

The early morning light peeked through the sheer curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. Seungcheol shifted slightly, careful not to wake you as he looked down at the sight that had become his favorite—your peaceful face resting against his chest, hair slightly mussed from sleep.

You’d stayed the night, and now, as he watched the rise and fall of your breathing, he couldn’t help but smile. This moment, the quiet intimacy of waking up with you in his arms, felt almost too perfect to be real. He’d often catch himself wondering how he got lucky enough to have you here, tangled up with him in sheets that were no longer cold and empty.

Slowly, as if sensing his gaze, your eyes fluttered open. You blinked, squinting against the morning light before looking up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

You shifted, stretching slightly but not moving away from his hold. “Morning… I should probably get going, though,” you mumbled, glancing around as if remembering where you were. “I don’t have any clothes here.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t need to rush off so soon. The lady who cleans the house brought over a bunch of women’s clothes the other day. Said she thought they might come in handy.”

Your eyes widened a fraction. “Wait, seriously? Why would she do that?”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm in the quiet room. “I might have mentioned something about a ‘guest’ staying over occasionally. Ever since then, she’s been pampering me with questions and insisting on stocking up on things.”

You groaned softly, burying your face back into his chest. “Seungcheol…”

“What?” He pretended to look offended, though his grin only widened. “I didn’t exactly ask her to do it, but I have to say, she’s been very thoughtful.”

“Still… it’s embarrassing,” you muttered.

He let out a low hum, running his fingers gently through your hair. “I like it,” he admitted softly. “I like having you around. Everything just… feels better when you’re here.”

You lifted your head slightly, meeting his gaze. There was something in his eyes, a softness and sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. He was serious. Everything was better with you.

Reluctantly, you nodded. “Alright. I’ll stay for breakfast, but I’m going home after that.”

“Deal,” he agreed easily, pressing a light kiss to your forehead before you finally untangled yourself from his arms.

A little while later, you were sitting across from Seungcheol at his kitchen table, the two of you sharing a simple breakfast. Despite the everyday setting, something about it felt special. The clink of utensils against plates, the smell of coffee filling the air—it was a scene you could get used to.

Seungcheol watched you from over his cup, unable to stop the smile that crept onto his face. Eating breakfast alone was something he’d grown accustomed to, but with you here, everything was different. The eggs tasted richer, the toast more buttery, and even the morning sunlight seemed warmer.

“I could get used to this,” he mused aloud, his voice light but with a hint of something deeper.

You glanced up, eyebrows raised. “Breakfast?”

“Breakfast. Mornings. Everything,” he said, leaning back slightly as he took in the sight of you. “When you’re here, the food tastes better, the air feels fresher… even the cold water in the shower isn’t as bad.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Such a sweet talker, Seungcheol.”

“I’m serious,” he murmured, reaching over to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You make everything better.”

Your cheeks warmed at the intensity of his gaze, but before you could respond, he was already standing up and gathering the empty dishes. You moved to help, but he waved you off.

“Stay. I’ll do the dishes,” he said firmly.

“You cooked,” you protested. “It’s only fair I help.”

He hesitated, then sighed, relenting. “Alright, fine. But I’m drying.”

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm at the sink. You washed, and he dried, his presence close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from his body. Every so often, his arm would brush against yours, sending tiny sparks up your skin.

It was just the two of you, sharing a simple, quiet moment in his kitchen. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Seungcheol’s arms suddenly wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You squealed softly in surprise, your soapy hands hovering awkwardly over the sink as you turned your head to look at him.

“Seungcheol, what are you doing?” you asked, your voice a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“I just… needed to hold you for a second,” he murmured, resting his chin on your shoulder. His hands splayed across your stomach, holding you close as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “You’re always so busy, and I just wanted a bit more of you before you go.”

Your heart melted at his words. He sounded almost childlike, his usual confident demeanor slipping away to reveal the vulnerability underneath.

You turned slightly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You know I’m not going anywhere, right?”

His gaze softened, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. The kiss was slow, lingering, as if he was savoring every second. You sighed against his mouth, your hands reaching up to wind around his neck.

One kiss turned into another, then another, each one deeper than the last. The dishes were forgotten, the only sound in the room the soft hum of the fridge and the ragged breaths you both shared.

“Seungcheol…” you breathed out as his mouth trailed down your jaw, leaving a hot path of kisses along your neck. His hands gripped the edge of the counter, trapping you in place as he pulled you closer.

But before things could go any further, the front door swung open.

You both froze, heads snapping toward the sound. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, drawing closer. Panic seized you, your heart racing as you looked up at Seungcheol with wide eyes.

“Who could that be?” you whispered frantically.

“I—I don’t know,” he stammered, releasing you and stepping back hastily.

The footsteps stopped, and a familiar figure appeared at the entrance to the kitchen.

“Jiyeon?” Seungcheol blurted out, his voice a mixture of shock and confusion.

Jiyeon’s eyes widened as she took in the scene—your flushed face, Seungcheol’s disheveled hair, the obvious tension lingering in the air.

For a moment, no one spoke.

“Uh… hi?” you offered weakly, your voice sounding embarrassingly small.

Jiyeon raised an eyebrow, looking between the two of you with a knowing smirk. “Did I… interrupt something?”

Seungcheol cleared his throat, scrambling to regain his composure. “What are you doing here?”

Jiyeon shrugged casually. “I came to talk. But it seems like you’re… busy.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, and you could see the teasing smile threatening to break through.

Seungcheol let out a long, exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair. “Right. Let’s… talk.”

You shifted awkwardly, glancing at Seungcheol. “I should probably—”

“No,” Seungcheol interrupted firmly, taking your hand. “Stay. Whatever she has to say, she can say it in front of you.”

Jiyeon’s smirk widened. “Well, this should be interesting,” she murmured, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe, clearly enjoying the situation a bit too much.

As Seungcheol’s grip on your hand tightened, you couldn’t help but feel that whatever was coming, you’d face it together.

*

The brunch spot you’d chosen was a cozy little café downtown, known for its long queues on weekends. You glanced around nervously, feeling a bit guilty for dragging Seungcheol out here on a Sunday morning. He’d already spent the night taking care of you, and now he was stuck in line with you, waiting for pastries and coffee.

“I’m sorry for making you wait around like this,” you murmured, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I know you probably had better things to do than—”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, cutting you off with a gentle nudge. “Stop apologizing. I’m happy to be here. Besides,” he leaned in closer, his breath tickling your ear, “I’d rather spend a few hours queuing with you than not see you at all.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, and you looked away, pretending to be overly interested in the menu board. “Still… I feel bad that I’ve been so busy. It’s like everyone at work just dumped all their projects on me.”

“Maybe you should start messing with their work,” he suggested with a cheeky grin.

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “As tempting as that sounds, Jeonghan would not be happy about it.”

Seungcheol’s smile faltered a little at the mention of your brother. “Your brother needs to cut you some slack,” he muttered. “You’re doing more than enough for that company.”

“Speaking of which…” You glanced up at the counter where the bakery display was set up. “I think I should get more almond croissants. Just in case Jeonghan decides to visit my place.”

Seungcheol’s frown deepened. “He should stop visiting your place so often. Doesn’t he have anything else to do?”

You tried to stifle a laugh. “No, he only has me.”

“Ugh,” Seungcheol groaned, rubbing his temples dramatically. “Right, I forgot. Your brother’s territorial complex. I don’t think he’s ready to share you yet.”

“Not at all,” you teased lightly. “Which is why you’re right—we should probably wait until our second anniversary to tell him, not the first.”

He sighed, a smile tugging at his lips despite his grumbling. “You’re going to make me wait even longer, huh?”

“Just a little bit,” you hummed, flashing him a playful smile.

It didn’t take much longer for the line to move forward, and soon enough, you were walking out with a bag full of fresh pastries and two cups of coffee. Seungcheol insisted on carrying everything, his hand lightly brushing yours every so often as you walked back to his car.

The ride back to your place was filled with easy chatter and laughter. Seungcheol had this way of making even the most mundane moments feel special, his presence so warm and comforting that you found yourself wishing you could stay with him all day. But you knew you couldn’t; there was still a mountain of work waiting for you at home.

When you finally reached your building, Seungcheol parked the car and turned to you, a small, reluctant smile on his face. “I’ll walk you up.”

“You don’t have to,” you protested lightly, though you secretly loved that he was always so considerate.

“I want to,” he insisted. He carried the pastry bag and followed you to your door, his hand finding its way to your lower back as you fished for your keys.

The second you unlocked the door, Seungcheol pulled you into a gentle hug, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Promise me you’ll take breaks while working,” he murmured softly.

You closed your eyes, savoring the warmth of his embrace. “I will,” you whispered, your arms tightening around him.

“And text me when you’re done, alright?” he added, tilting your face up so he could press a lingering kiss to your lips. “I want to know when I can steal you away again.”

You nodded, smiling against his mouth. “Okay, I’ll text you.”

But before you could say anything else, the door behind you swung open, startling both of you. You turned around, eyes widening in shock as you found yourself face-to-face with Jeonghan.

His gaze shifting between you and Seungcheol. His eyes narrowed, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he processed what he was seeing—his little sister standing on the doorstep with Seungcheol, lips a bit too swollen and hair a bit too messy to be innocent.

“What’s this?” Jeonghan demanded, his tone icy as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Care to explain?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Seungcheol beat you to it. He took a step forward, positioning himself slightly in front of you, as if shielding you from Jeonghan’s cold glare.

“I can explain,” Seungcheol said calmly. “I know this looks… unexpected, but I can assure you that everything is fine. We’re fine.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Fine?” he repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “You’re standing outside my sister’s apartment looking like you’ve been making out for hours, and you’re telling me everything is fine?”

You winced, but Seungcheol remained unflinching. “Yes, because that’s exactly what happened.”

Your eyes widened at Seungcheol’s boldness. He shot you a quick, reassuring glance before turning back to face Jeonghan, his shoulders squared confidently.

“I like her,” Seungcheol stated firmly, his voice unwavering. “I’ve liked her for a long time. And I’d like to keep liking her—with your permission, of course.”

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily caught off guard by Seungcheol’s directness. He glanced at you, his gaze softening slightly before he looked back at Seungcheol.

“You like her?” he echoed, as if testing the words on his tongue. “Since when?”

Seungcheol hesitated, his jaw clenching slightly. “Since… well, since before I knew I wasn’t supposed to.”

Jeonghan’s eyes narrowed, but there was no malice in his gaze, only a protective wariness. “And you,” he turned to you, his voice softer now. “Is this what you want?”

You swallowed, meeting Jeonghan’s gaze squarely. “Yes. I want this,” you said quietly but firmly. “I want to be with him.”

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air, the tension almost palpable. Then, slowly, Jeonghan let out a long breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

“Well… I guess I can’t really stop you,” he muttered, his lips quirking up in a reluctant smile. “But I swear, if you hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice filled with quiet determination. “I promise, I won’t.”

Jeonghan eyed him for a long moment, then nodded, a small sigh escaping him. “Alright. But don’t think I’m going to make it easy for you.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Seungcheol replied with a grin.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching up. He turned to you, his expression softening. “And you—don’t think this gets you out of our lunch plans tomorrow.”

You laughed softly, relief flooding through you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Jeonghan shook his head, muttering something under his breath about troublesome siblings before stepping back inside. “Just… behave yourselves, okay?”

You nodded, smiling as you watched him retreat into the apartment.

Once the door clicked shut, Seungcheol let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He turned to you, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and amusement.

“Well, that went better than expected,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms again.

“Yeah,” you agreed, leaning into his embrace. “Way better.”

“Now,” he whispered against your hair, “let’s finish that kiss properly, hmm?”

You laughed, tilting your head up to meet his lips again, this time with no interruptions, no worries—just the sweet, undeniable feeling of being exactly where you belonged.

*

It was well past midnight, and your living room was dimly lit by the soft glow of your laptop screen. Papers were strewn across the coffee table, along with empty coffee cups and a half-eaten sandwich you’d forgotten about hours ago. You sat hunched over your work, typing furiously, as if sheer speed could somehow help you finish everything your colleagues had dumped on you.

Seungcheol sat quietly beside you on the couch, his presence a steadying comfort. He had come over a few hours ago after seeing your “busy” message and the growing bags under your eyes during your video call. You didn’t ask him to stay, but you didn’t have to—Seungcheol knew you too well to leave you alone on a night like this.

He glanced at you, his brows furrowing slightly in concern as you groaned softly and ran a hand through your hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

“I swear, I won’t work there anymore—even in my next life,” you muttered under your breath, your eyes glued to the screen.

Seungcheol’s lips curled up into a small smile. He shifted closer, one arm wrapping around your waist as the other began to gently rub circles on your back. His touch was warm and soothing, slowly melting away some of the tension that had built up in your shoulders.

“You’ve been saying that for months, you know?” he teased softly, his hand moving up to trace comforting patterns across your tummy. “Yet here you are, still working your ass off.”

You sighed, leaning back against him slightly, grateful for his quiet support. “This is why I hate nepotism. It never works fairly! It’s either you become the evil one, or you get eviled.”

Seungcheol pressed a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment. “It’s unfair,” he agreed softly. “And I hate that you have to go through this. But you’re strong—you’ll get through it, like you always do.”

“Only because you’re here,” you murmured, turning your head to look at him. “You know, I could’ve accepted your offer to go back to Heidos, but…” You trailed off, shaking your head. “But I chose this. I chose to stay with my brother’s company. Maybe this is my karma—maybe I deserve all this headache and exhaustion for turning down your offer.”

Seungcheol’s expression softened, his gaze filled with nothing but love and understanding. He shifted slightly, cupping your cheek with one hand as he leaned in closer. “Hey, none of this is your fault,” he murmured gently. “You don’t deserve any of this stress. And just because you chose to help your brother doesn’t mean you have to keep suffering like this.”

Before you could respond, Seungcheol kissed you softly, his lips brushing against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache in the best way. He pulled back just enough to speak, his forehead resting against yours.

“I can make you feel better, though,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing as his thumb caressed your cheek. Then, without waiting for your answer, he kissed you again—deeper this time, slow and lingering, like he was trying to pour all his love and support into that one kiss.

You sighed into the kiss, your shoulders relaxing for the first time that night as you melted against him. All the stress, the exhaustion, and the frustration seemed to fade away, replaced by the warm comfort of being in Seungcheol’s arms.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his lips when you finally pulled away, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Seungcheol smiled, his hand sliding up to tangle gently in your hair. “You don’t have to worry about that, because I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured. “I’ll always be here—for every late night, for every breakdown, for everything. I’m with you, always.”

And in that quiet, intimate moment, you knew—no matter how tough things got, no matter how much work was thrown your way, as long as you had Seungcheol by your side, you could get through anything.

The night stretched on, but with Seungcheol’s arms around you and his comforting presence beside you, the workload didn’t seem so daunting. You could finish it, you would finish it. And when you finally shut your laptop hours later, you curled up against Seungcheol’s chest, his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

The last thing you heard before drifting off was his soft whisper in your ear.

“I love you.”

:)

[nochukoo97]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - teaser

pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x childhoodfriend!oc

summary: you and jungkook have been friends since birth, and as you both grow into teenagers, you can’t help but have some sorr of longing feeling towards him. but after a turn of events, you move away from your home town, growing apart from the boy you onced were close to. almost a decade later when you decide to move back, there’s someone familiar yet unfamiliar waiting for your arrival… was this the universe giving you a sign about him?

warnings/tags: story starts off when the both of them are children, but most of the plot is when they are adults :)), eventual: kissing, an emotional rollercoaster 🥲, they’re stuck in a ‘what are we’ moment, playing a waiting game of who confesses first, a little bit of angst, smut, but fluff too hehe

a/n: IM BACK 🥲 after being in writers block sighhh but i am back hehehe hope u r excited for this!! anyways this is just an intro for the actual fic, its more of what happened before the present which will be in the main part hehehe

TAGLIST OPEN!!

(this is the introduction, the main part is coming soon :)))

MASTERLIST

23 July 2007

You’re currently wedged between two bookshelves in the living room of your house, eyes trained on the words in your book, giggling to yourself when the plot takes a funny turn. Meanwhile in the background, Jungkook and your brother Taehyung, both a year older than you, the two ten year old boys play fighting in your parents backyard, their game was way too rough for you to even watch, you decided.

That’s always the way it’s been since you were young, Jungkook’s mum dropping him off at your parents place as he spent time with your brother, mostly roughhousing like they are now, and you, at nine years old, simply tucking yourself in another fairytale, which to you seemed like a much better way to past time.

You never truly spent a lot of time with the two of them when Jungkook would come over, besides the once-in-a-while moments where your parents would make you guys bond a little through board games or card games which the two elder boys would never take seriously, the games always ending in them either throwing the board game pieces at each other or stacking the cards into a pyramid.

When it came to school, you tried your best to stay away from bumping into your brother at school, but you’d always end up being teased in front of your friends by him and Jungkook, making fun of your two pigtails or your very glittery pink bag you had just gotten as a birthday gift, but you were used to it anyways, having grown up with a brother.

12 August 2011

Four years go by and now you’re finally completing your last year in middle school, Jungkook and your brother having moved on to high school, and as expected, they end up attending the same school, as they have done their whole life.

But since four years ago, a lot has changed. You’ve grown much closer to Jungkook, having gone on quite a few trips with his family, and you could even consider him a close friend. Most importantly, he’d grown from being a kid to a teenager, even though he was only a year older than you, the 14 year old boy suddenly became someone you always wanted to hang out with. To you, you saw him as someone cool. Instead of teasing you along with your brother, he now would defend you from your brother’s teasing, treat you to ice cream on the weekends and even teach you the video games he played with your brother.

“And then he let me get as many toppings as I wanted,” You tell your friends, clicking the buttons on your phone to show them the picture of your ice cream, filled to the brim with all sorts of toppings because Jungkook said you could.

“You’re so lucky, I wish I had a boyfriend like that,” Jiyeon sighs, pouting her lips as she sulks.

Your face turns red, tip of your ears warm as you quickly deny, “He isn’t my boyfriend! Just a friend… In fact he was my brother’s friend first,” No, you couldn’t even begin to try and imagine Jungkook as someone more than your friend!

“Well, but you should definitely confess to him on valentine’s day, it’s in like six months,” Yuji twirls her hair, nudging your leg slightly as she giggled.

To the three of you, as 13 year old girls, having a valentine was a big deal, especially since the whole idea of a crush and all was new to you guys as teenage girls.

“No! I don’t have feelings for him! He’s just nice to me I guess,” You frown at Yuji, just because she confessed to her crush and now apparently has a boyfriend, doesn’t mean you need to do it too, you decided.

You didn’t have a crush on Jungkook right?

You push away the thought quickly, this whole topic was so taboo to you, it made you feel squirmy thinking about it. No, you didn’t have any sort of feelings towards the older boy, never.

-

So that day when you arrived back at home, spotting Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the table and doing their homework, you decide to take a seat away from the certain boy.

“Huh? Why are you sitting all the way there? Come back here,” Jungkook hums, pulling out his earphones in bewilderment, you had always sat next to him whilst the three of you would do homework together after school, nudging him here and there to ask for help with a math problem.

“I- okay,” You scooch towards the chair next to him, dragging your books along the table as you avoid eye contact. Your cheeks heating up again as you remember your conversation with your friends in school earlier, it made you feel all tingly inside, but why were you being so weird in front of him?

“You’ve been staring at that math problem for ages, need help?”

You jump up in surprise at Jungkook’s voice , letting out a small yelp as your brother snickers at you from across the table, you kick his shin in response, sending his hands flailing to the injury, mumbling some cuss word you don’t understand.

“Yeah,” You only muster out a whisper, handing over your pencil to the boy, who finds your behaviour a little off but nonetheless, doesn’t comment on it.

And while he explains the solution and working to find the value of X, you can only notice his eyes, his nose, the mole under his lips, the scar on his cheek from when he fought with your brother years ago, his lips.

And then you for yourself to snap out of your daydream when his eyes lock with yours in confusion as to why you’re staring at him instead of your workbook.

03 January 2012

But then five months later, opportunity for valentine’s day didn’t even come for you anyways, as you pack your bags to move miles away from the place you once called home, since your father had been posted to a new country for his work.

The whole idea of leaving your life behind and all the people you’ve ever known since young was such an overwhelming feeling that you didn’t even think once about your feelings for Jungkook anymore, or maybe you did once, but it didn’t matter.

So when you tugged your luggage and watch your brother sadly hug his best friend goodbye at the airport, reality struck, you wouldn’t ever get a chance to even properly assess your feelings for Jungkook anyways, so you simply wave him goodbye, not looking back so you don’t think further than a goodbye.

He did make sure to exchange his Instagram and Facebook with you, promising you and your brother to keep in touch, which you agreed to. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to cling onto the idea of him, but you didn’t let yourself believe that anyways.

[seventeenreasonswhy]

Same Team! A YJH Office Romance Pt. 3

Idol!Jeonghan x ProductionStaff!Reader

You’re serious about your job, but not as serious as Yoon Jeonghan is about flirting.

~1.4k words

Read Part 1 and Part 2

Series Content: slooowwwwww burn, fluff!, cute flirting!, will-they-won’t-they vibes!, tension!!, office crushes, office romance, appearances by all of the members, reader is shy and gets flustered easily!, jeonghan is jeonghan-ing!

My Masterlist

Author’s Note: Thank you all for reading! I’m having so much fun writing this. MC is so shy, and Jeonghan is so direct! My favorite dynamic!! Also, Jiyeon and Daein are completely fictional/not based on any idols! Jiyeon is kind of a stock mean-girl character, sorry! I’m looking forward to writing steamier interactions between Jeonghan and MC soon! <3

Taglist: @yeoberryx (lmk if you want to be added to my taglist!)

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

“Y/N-shi.” One of the producers in the room said your name, bringing you out of your daydreaming.

You were in a scheduling meeting to arrange staff for several of the members’ upcoming overseas commitments. You were hopeful that you’d get to travel, though you doubted it. You weren’t exactly experienced, but you did have the fluent-in-English thing going for you. You’d mentioned that you could get by with pretty decent French and Italian, too. So, of course, you were imagining a... business trip with Jeonghan...

“Yes!” you said quickly.

“How do you feel about traveling?”

“Traveling where?”

“Paris.”

“I feel good about it!” You answered politely—and super eagerly, eliciting some chuckles from the room.

“She’s so cute,” Daein said. You and Daein had gotten to know each other better, and when she wasn’t around Jiyeon she was much nicer to you. Still, you felt embarrassed for being overly eager.

“We wanted someone who could speak English and French well,” the producer added, “It’s Fashion Week.”

“Who’s attending this year?” someone asked.

“Mingyu-shi, Jun-shi, Joshua-shi,” another producer at the other end of the room looked through her list, “and Jeonghan-shi.”

You felt your face start to flush immediately.

“Mingyu-shi, Joshua-shi, and Jeonghan-shi will be booked on the same flight,” someone said, your heart pounding harder each time his name was mentioned, “Jun-shi will fly separately, directly from China.”

As the staff continued to fill you in on details... where you’d meet, what time you needed to be there, what to expect from CARATs gathered at the airport...

“The talent will have their own security,” another staff member assured you, “There’ll be a separate security check for us—to get to the gate faster. Most of the fans are perfectly respectful, but don’t hesitate to alert security if anything rings alarms or makes you uncomfortable.”

“Thank you,” you replied politely. “I’ll do my best.”

It had only taken a couple of months working with SEVENTEEN to really hit home that being famous was actually quite difficult. Everywhere they went, their fans seemed to be waiting. Even shoot locations that you knew weren’t made public—a few of them would show up no matter what. The members seemed to handle it graciously. At least, more graciously than you would have been in their position. Some of the fans were pretty intense, and didn’t seem to respect the members’ privacy. But it was a very small number. You’d only seen or heard any of the members get slightly annoyed at most, and only a handful of times.

But if Mingyu was on your flight, you knew the airport was going to be chaotic. He was very popular. And you understood why. He was extremely tall, gorgeous, not to mention very personable. He was easy to talk to, even though you were slightly intimidated at first. He enjoyed speaking English with you, which was nice.

“Y/N-shi,” the head coordinator was assigning details to each member, “you’ll be with Jeonghan-shi.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’ll be on his team of staff—each member will have their manager with them, two other staff for extra footage or vlog shooting, and their own security. You’ll be with Jeonghan-ah’s crew. Understood?”

“Yes!”

...What the hell? Was this really happening? Had you performed some saintly act in a past life? Why were you being bestowed with this kind of luck!?

“Great, we’ll send a car to pick you up at 4:00 AM that Thursday,” the coordinator in charge continued, “be sure you have your passport and at least two cocktail dresses—you’ll be attending the Yves Saint Laurent opening event on Friday, plus the runway show and afterparty on Saturday, so you’ll need appropriate attire. We can offer you a stipend to rent something when you get there if you don’t have anything.”

“Thank you!” and you bowed deeply. The other staff in the room chuckled.

“We’re counting on you,” the coordinator smiled at you.

-

The weeks seemed to drag on. You were so anxious and excited about the trip to Paris that you could hardly concentrate on anything else. You carried out your tasks with your usual efficiency, but your colleagues could tell you were just excited about getting to go to Fashion Week.

“I can’t understand why someone with such poor taste is going on this trip,” Jiyeon sneered as you were packing up equipment in the practice room. The members were gathering their things, sweaty from filming a dance practice video. Some of them were off in various corners doing other TikTok challenges. You were amazed at how quickly they could pick up choreography. You’d worked in entertainment for a long time, but it never stopped amazing you how fast good dancers were at that kind of thing. You hardly took notice of Jiyeon’s tone; you were so busy fantasizing about getting to spend so much time with Jeonghan.

“Hey!” she raised her voice just enough to get your attention, but not so much that it registered with the other staff or the members. You turned to her, trying to focus on whatever it is she needed to say, but still unable to contain your giddiness.

“Ugh,” she said, giving you a disgusted look, “don’t let Jeonghan-shi see you being so weird about this.”

“I don’t think she’s being weird.”

There he was, standing right behind Jiyeon. How had he gotten over here? Were you seriously so wrapped up in your own thoughts you hadn’t even seen him walk over to where you and Jiyeon were packing up?

Jiyeon looked like she was about to pass out, and you froze on the spot. Jeonghan was looking right at you, as always. His gaze never wavered when he was looking at you. You always loved it, even though it flustered you, but right now you were so ecstatic that he’d overheard her that it felt like you were floating above the ground.

“Ah! Jeonghan-shi!” Jiyeon put on her best smile, laughing off his remark. “Y/N-shi is always a little weird, we were just joking! Right, Y/N-shi?” You noted that it was the first time she’d bothered using honorifics with you. You didn’t really care, since honorifics weren’t really a thing at the companies you’d worked for in the past, and just not a huge deal in the U.S. at all. But you knew that her dropping them was technically a slight toward you.

“Right,” you said, putting on your best polite smile. You didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. Jiyeon was rude, but she wasn’t anything you couldn’t handle. Also, maybe you were being too weird about this trip. It was purely business... you were probably getting a little carried away. You couldn’t help but look down, worried now that you would creep him out.

“I’d never want to work with someone who wasn’t at least as weird as nuna,” Jeonghan said straightforwardly.

Your heart jumped into your throat.

“Ah, that’s Jeonghan-shi for you!” Jiyeon let out a strained laugh and went back to helping move the equipment, being sure to send you a pointed glare on her way toward the door.

You were left standing there with Jeonghan. You paused, and then bowed toward him.

“Thank you for saying that,” you said in the most formal voice possible. You were so flustered; you didn’t know what to say.

“What are you doing after this?” he asked. His voice was low and direct. 

“What?”

“Are you free right now?”

“...What?”

“I thought your Korean was supposed to be good, nuna.”

You stared at him. He was smiling softly. His gaze was gentle, but there was something mischievous in it. You felt as if your brain had force quit on you.

“Sorry, I... I don’t...” you were lost for words.

“Well, if you’re free after this, Joshua, Dino, and I are going to get some dinner,” he said, running a hand through his long hair. You imagined what it would feel like to run your own hand through it. While peeking up to look at his hair up close—a thing you rarely did, even though you’d had plenty of opportunities by now—your eyes met for a second, and for some reason you steeled yourself and held his gaze.

“Do you want to come?”

“Yes.” You said it without thinking, but the smile on his face nearly knocked you out.

“Good.”