#like i always always always ALWAYS doubt if my friends or family like me and in my head they all secretly hate me

[https-lvesick]

RUNAWAY BRIDE ★ huang renjun

summary . . ♡ Just weeks before your wedding, doubts begin to creep in, and on the big day, you panic and make a break for it. Desperate and still in your bridal gown, you flag down a passing car driven by a friendly stranger. He offers to take you to safety, but what starts as a temporary stop turns into something much more. As you hide from the life you left behind, feelings grow, and the lovely stranger finds he doesn’t want you to leave.

pairing . . ♡ renjun x rich girl!reader

word count . . ♡ 23k

genre . . ♡ fluff, angst, smut, strangers to friends to lovers, love at first sight

content . . ♡ family issues, renjun is downbad since day one, reader used to be a good girl, but now she's a big girl, mentions of jeno x reader (briefly), minhyuk and hajoon are assholes the whole time, jealous renjun, other nct members and idols make appearance.

smut content . . ♡ a lot of kissing, unprotected sex, masturbation (both), fingering, cum eating, cunnilingus, humping, fellatio, reader compares renjun with minhyuk but in a good way, (mentions of) multiple rounds.

You stared at yourself in the mirror for the thousandth time. Your eyes traced every detail—the flawless hairstyle, the delicate diamond tiara, the long white dress with intricate lace sleeves, and the impeccable makeup. Pride swelled within you for reaching this milestone, for taking the first step in building your future family. But why? Why did you feel so heavy with dread? Why did every thought of a future with your fiancé fill you with unease instead of joy?

The door creaked open, and one of your bridesmaids—your best friend—entered the room. Her radiant smile was contagious, filled with pride and warmth. It almost made you believe in the illusion of a blissful future. Because this was the right thing to do.

Wasn’t it?

"Here’s your bouquet..." she said, placing the bundle of crimson roses in your hands. Red roses, the ultimate symbol of love, carefully adorned with tiny diamonds nestled between the blooms. Joy beamed with excitement, far more emotional than you felt. Her eyes drifted to your trembling hands, interpreting it as a case of perfectly reasonable wedding jitters.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, taking your hands in hers. You inhaled deeply, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

"Nervous," you admitted with a weak, insincere smile. Everything about this moment felt like a facade. "My heart’s racing faster than one of Sung’s monologues."

She chuckled, and for a fleeting second, the tension eased. Was the rapid beat of your heart merely pre-wedding anxiety? Or was it doubt?

"That’s perfectly normal," Joy reassured, her tone as light as if describing a fairytale. "I felt exactly the same on my wedding day. Trust me, the nerves disappear the moment you say ‘I do’ and seal it with a kiss."

For her, this was magic. It was supposed to be for you, too. You had always dreamed of this moment—finding the perfect man, getting married, building a life together, a house filled with love, children, the happiness you grew up surrounded by. You had always wanted to create that for yourself.

While Joy hums your favorite song, her voice light and soothing as she glides—almost dances—around the room, tidying up stray objects, you glance at the mirror once more. A deep breath fills your lungs as you close your eyes, trying to conjure a vision of a happy future with Minhyuk. But it’s the same as before: not the image of a fulfilled life, but of an unhappy woman trapped in her own story. Now, though, even that vision is gone. It’s as if... there is nothing after the ‘I do.’

Your eyes flutter open. Joy, still twirling around the room with a smile on her face, sings in that melodic voice that always brings you peace. You stare at your reflection again, knowing there’s still a chance—one fleeting chance—to make the right choice.

"Joy?" you call softly. Her attention snaps to you instantly, her warmth as comforting as always. "Could you get me some water? I think these nerves are really getting to me..." Your voice trembles just enough, sounding perfectly fragile—exactly like the version of yourself everyone expects. Joy giggles at your tone, unaware of anything unusual.

"Of course," she says cheerfully, excusing herself before slipping out the door.

You draw another deep breath, your heart thudding in your chest.

Better to regret doing too much than to regret doing nothing at all.

The words echo in your mind as you pull off your heels and set them aside. You remove the diamond tiara, placing it on the chair with care. Then, with your pulse racing, you open the door that leads to the garden where the celebration waits.

The moment your bare feet touch the grass, you run.

You run as fast as you can, ignoring the weight of the dress pulling you down, ignoring the stinging thoughts of what people will think, ignoring the consequences that tomorrow will bring. All that matters is getting out—escaping the cage before it locks you in forever.

When Joy returns to find the door ajar, the tiara and heels abandoned, the crystal glass slips from her fingers, shattering on the floor. Fear flashes across her face—fear of the uproar your family will unleash when they realize what’s happened. But she doesn’t chase after you. She lets you go.

"I hope you know what you’re doing..." Joy whispers to herself. She laughs in disbelief, shaking her head. She waits a moment, giving herself just enough time before putting on the perfect mask of panic for when the news breaks—the bride is gone.

It takes longer than you'd like to escape the mansion grounds, and even longer before anyone realizes the bride is missing. Minhyuk stands in stunned silence at first, refusing to believe it’s true. Then anger overtakes him, his fury mirrored by your father, whose mind is already racing with ways to punish you for disgracing the family.

When you finally reach the street, your legs burn and your lungs ache. You stop to catch your breath, heart pounding in your chest, knowing that by now, everyone is searching for you. The security team must already be mobilized. Finding you will be easy—too easy. After all, a bride running through the streets of Los Angeles isn’t exactly inconspicuous.

You take off again, pushing your legs to move faster, weaving through traffic, not waiting for the light to turn. The inevitable happens—a car screeches to a halt, clipping your side just enough to send you stumbling. The driver’s face is as terrified as yours.

“Help me,” you murmur, voice trembling as your eyes lock with his.

For a moment, he hesitates, his eyes darting between you and the road as horns blare and angry drivers shout behind him. His decision comes fast.

"Get in!" he shouts, leaning out of the window.

Without thinking, you yank open the door of the white car and slide into the back seat. The man wastes no time—the car surges forward as he presses the gas.

You finally exhale, eyes closing as a rush of emotions floods you. Tears begin to fall, quiet and unstoppable. The adrenaline still courses through your veins, but your mind clears just enough to fill with the images you’ve been running from—the glares of your parents, the disappointment of your former in-laws, the fury in Minhyuk’s eyes, and even the hurt expression of your brother.

You might be disowned. You might be cast out and cut off from your family forever.

But you refused to surrender your life to anyone else’s plans.

“Miss?” you hear the man call softly. Your eyes flutter open, and for a brief second, you meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. Then, you catch sight of your own reflection—your makeup mostly intact, though streaked with tears. You wipe them away with trembling hands, but they keep falling.

“Yes?” you respond, voice barely above a whisper. His eyes linger on you, filled with concern.

“Do you have somewhere I can take you?”

You pause, thinking. A hotel is out of the question—you have no money on you. Going back home is impossible—it’s ground zero for everyone you’re running from. And all of your friends? They’re at the wedding.

“No…” you mumble, shame creeping into your voice. Your eyes drop to your lap, fingers fidgeting nervously. “Just… please, get me far away from here. Anywhere. I’ll figure it out.”

You can feel his pity, an emotion so palpable it wraps around you like a heavy blanket. You don’t want to meet his gaze again—you already know what’s written in it. But how could you blame him? How could anyone leave a distraught woman in a wedding dress stranded in the middle of nowhere?

He sighs quietly, his voice careful but resolute. “Alright. How about this—I’ll take you to my place. You can shower, calm down, and maybe… call someone. Does that sound okay?”

Relief washes over you, and with no better options in mind, you nod. “Okay.”

He glances at you in the mirror again, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. “I’m Renjun, by the way.”

Despite everything, you manage a weak smile in return. “I’m…” You introduce yourself, your name feeling strange on your tongue, like a part of a life you just left behind.

The thought of making that call, of confronting the fallout from your grand escape, churns your stomach. But you push it aside. You can’t afford to think about it now. Instead, you stay quiet, unsure if Renjun wants to talk. You clutch your hands tightly together, focusing on the blur of the city outside, each passing streetlight pulling you further from a life you no longer wanted.

The drive felt agonizingly slow, each second stretching like an eternity. The upbeat song playing on the radio only made the suffocating tension worse. Renjun tried changing the station a few times, but nothing seemed to fit the mood, so he turned it off altogether—which only made the silence heavier. He wrestled with indecision, unsure whether to break the quiet and attempt a conversation to ease your discomfort or leave you alone with your tears. Never in his life did he imagine finding himself in this situation: a bride in distress, heartbroken and crying, in the backseat of his car.

As his car turned into a quiet suburban street, your teary gaze lifted. You took in the picturesque neighborhood with wide eyes. The houses stood in perfect uniformity, a row of identical designs—slate-gray siding, black-shingled roofs, and bright white doors and windows. It was nothing like what you were used to. The garage door opened with a soft hum, and Renjun pulled into the driveway, parking with precision.

“We’re here,” he said gently, turning the key to cut the engine. His eyes flicked back to you. “Shall we?”

You nodded, wordlessly stepping out of the car, feeling the cool pavement under your bare feet as you followed him inside.

With every step into his house, a sharp pain flared in your left foot. You ignored it. After all, you had just sprinted a marathon barefoot to escape a nightmare.

The scent of clean linen and fresh pine filled the air, wrapping you in an unexpected calm. The place was spotless, impeccably organized—a serene contrast to the storm inside you.

“I’ll grab something for you to wear,” Renjun offered kindly. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You sat on the pale, plush sofa, your feet dangling as you swayed them back and forth. But as the stillness settled over you once more, the weight of everything returned. The tears you had momentarily paused came rushing back, and the sorrow sat heavy in your chest, pressing down like an unforgiving hand.

Back at the mansion where the wedding was supposed to take place, chaos reigned. Tension hung thick in the air as your father stormed through the grand hall, his fury palpable. The rest of your family shared in his anger, but your brother remained the calmest, quietly observing the fallout. Your friends stood uncertain, hopeful that there might be a rational explanation for your sudden disappearance.

The guests had long departed, murmuring whispers of scandal and speculation as they left. Even Minhyuk and his family were gone, their pride wounded. Your phone had rung incessantly until one of your bridesmaids, Arin, noticed it—along with all your personal belongings—left behind in the bridal suite. The search for you began in earnest: through the garden, under the canopy of the gazebo, even into the winding hedges of the labyrinth. But there was no trace of you. Frustrated, your father ordered the security team to comb the streets.

“I will not rest until that ungrateful girl is back in this house!” he roared, his face red with rage as he shoved aside anyone offering comfort.

“Dad, blowing up like this isn’t going to help anything,” your brother Jungwoo said, folding his arms with a resigned sigh. He had seen this spectacle before and was already half out the door.

“If you’re not going to help, Jungwoo, then leave,” their father snapped, gesturing dismissively.

“As if I haven’t thought of that already,” Jungwoo muttered under his breath. Turning to face him fully, he added, “And don’t bother calling the police. She wasn’t kidnapped. She’s a grown woman making her own choices. The police won’t do anything about it.” He walked out, his steps steady, leaving behind a trail of truth no one wanted to hear.

“Uncle Kim, maybe you should sit down, take a breath, and think things through before making any rash decisions,” Joy ventured gently, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

Her words were met with a glare sharp enough to cut glass. “And you, Sooyoung,” he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her, “aren’t you supposed to be her best friend? Why don’t you know where she is? Or are you hiding her from us?”

“Of course not!” Joy retorted, her eyes flashing with defiance. “And you know what? Even if I did know, I wouldn’t tell you!” She grabbed her purse, slinging it over her shoulder. Her voice grew stronger, her conviction unshakable. “If she ran, it’s because she was unhappy with this whole charade of a wedding. I stand with her.” Without waiting for a response, she stormed out.

The silence left in her wake simmered with rage. In one swift, furious motion, Kim Hajoon seized a large vase of flowers and hurled it to the floor, the porcelain shattering into jagged fragments. “When I find that girl…” His voice dropped to a venomous whisper, his jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “She will be punished for disgracing this family.”

You had already taken a bath. The clothes Renjun lent you fit perfectly—a pair of black sweatpants that hugged you comfortably and a loose yellow T-shirt sporting the logo of a band you didn’t recognize. He had even provided a pair of slippers, slightly oversized but perfectly serviceable. During your shower, you discovered a shallow cut on your left foot from a shard of glass. Fortunately, a quick rummage through the bathroom drawers revealed tweezers, allowing you to carefully remove the fragments. The injury made walking painful, causing you to limp as you descended the stairs, using the walls and furniture for support.

In the living room, Renjun sat on the sofa, eyes focused on a movie playing on the TV. He seemed to be waiting for you. Two glass mugs rested on the coffee table, the rising steam hinting at freshly brewed tea. When he noticed your presence, his face lit up with a warm smile.

“I see the clothes fit.” His brows furrowed as he took in your posture, leaning heavily against the wall. “Did something happen?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “I mean… aside from… well, you know…”

“Do you have a first-aid kit?” You interrupted his fumbling words before he could tie himself into further knots.

“Uh… wait a second!” Renjun shot up and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a small white medical kit. He placed it on the coffee table, and when he saw you hobbling toward the couch, he quickly came to your side.

He wrapped one arm around you, his other hand lightly supporting the small of your back as he guided you to sit down effortlessly.

“What happened?” he asked as he settled beside you.

You lifted your leg, resting your ankle on your other knee. Gently peeling away a makeshift paper bandage, you revealed the small wound. “Glass cut. Guess running around barefoot isn’t the best idea…” you remarked with a soft laugh, prompting a smile from him.

“Were there shards?” Renjun opened the kit, pulling out gauze, antiseptic, and iodine. He was already puzzling over why you hadn’t mentioned the injury sooner—perhaps you hadn’t realized at first.

“There were, but I got them out. I cleaned your tweezers properly, I promise! They’re back where I found them.”

He chuckled, brushing the concern aside.

“All right. May I?” He gestured toward your foot, waiting for permission.

You nodded shyly and adjusted your posture, resting your foot across his legs.

Renjun dampened a piece of gauze with antiseptic, handling your foot with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. The sting of the solution made you hiss softly, drawing air between your teeth. He glanced at your expression, careful to remain as gentle as possible. After thoroughly cleaning the cut, he applied the iodine and secured a fresh gauze with adhesive tape.

“There we go,” he said, his tone light and reassuring. “Take it easy, okay? No more wandering the streets barefoot.” He closed the kit and set it aside. “I made tea for us. Hope… it’s to your taste…” His voice softened as he handed you a warm mug.

You accepted it with a grateful smile. “I’m sure it’ll be perfect. Thank you, Renjun.” You took a tentative sip, inhaling the aromatic steam. It wasn’t exactly your favorite flavor, but knowing the care behind it made it sweeter.

Your gaze began to drift across the room. Every detail—from the cozy furniture to the tasteful decor, the paintings, and even the muted tones of the walls—spoke of simplicity and warmth. It was all so different from the lavish grandeur you had grown up with. Renjun caught your curious exploration.

“Like the decor?” he asked, a playful lilt in his voice.

Your eyes widened, startled, as if you’d been caught peeking into a forbidden room.

“Uh, yes,” you murmured, taking another sip of tea to hide your embarrassment. “It’s beautiful. Different from what I’m used to…”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. You immediately regretted your words, worried they had sounded snobbish. You rushed to clarify, stumbling over your explanation.

“A good kind of different! It’s… lovely, really!”

Renjun burst into laughter, his eyes crinkling with delight as his head tipped back. His laughter filled the room, infectious and genuine. He nearly dropped his mug but recovered just in time. The sound of it, so full of life, made your heart flutter.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said, wiping away the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “But now you’ve got me curious. What’s so different? Do you live in a castle or something?”

His teasing tone made you smile, the tension melting away like morning fog.

“Almost… it was a mansion.” You used the past tense without thinking. You weren’t sure if you’d still be living there, but honestly, it wasn’t as though you wanted to. “It had two floors and covered… about six of your houses in size…” You let the memory linger for a moment. “The décor was extravagant. My mother always loved flaunting the family’s wealth. She made a smart choice marrying my father.”

Renjun took a small sip of tea, his fingers lightly brushing the warm glass. “Well, my humble little house definitely doesn’t compete with… that.” His voice carried a faint laugh, but his eyes flicked downward. Embarrassment? Insecurity? Even he didn’t quite know.

“Please, don’t think I’m bragging or rubbing it in,” you said quickly, your words tripping over themselves. “It’s just… I don’t even like it. All that luxury… it’s too much to look at, too much to keep up with, and in the end, none of it really matters. It’s all just… stuff.”

He murmured agreement, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, you have a point.”

With the conversation trailing off, your attention returned to the TV. You weren’t sure what movie was playing, couldn’t tell who the characters were or what the plot was about. But you kept your eyes fixed on the screen, pretending you were following along. Renjun finished his tea first, setting his mug on the table. You did the same soon after, inhaling deeply as you placed it down.

“Feeling better?” he asked, stretching out to grab his phone from the side table.

You rubbed your palms nervously over your thighs, nodding.

“Do you want to call a friend? Or family?”

Your heart skipped. A rush of panic swelled in your chest, making your breath come shallow and quick. You didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Here, in this small, cozy space, you felt safe—a world away from the consequences waiting for you outside. The mere thought of facing your parents made your skin crawl, the weight of their judgment already pressing on your shoulders.

He noticed your change in demeanor immediately. His eyes darkened with concern as he set his phone down. Leaning toward you, his hand found the small of your back while the other wrapped gently around your trembling fingers.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay,” he whispered soothingly. “You don’t have to do anything right now. You’re not being forced. I’m not going to pressure you. Not at all.”

You clenched your jaw, fighting the tears burning behind your eyes. You had to say it. You had to ask.

“I can’t go home, Renjun.”

He stiffened at the desperation in your voice, the way your words trembled on the edge of breaking.

“Why? What happened?” His eyes searched yours, wide and worried. “Do you need the police? Is that why you ran from your wedding?”

The shock on your face was answer enough. You shook your head fervently, gripping his hand tighter.

“No, no, no police, please,” you whispered. “I’ve already made enough trouble. I don’t want more.” You lowered your head, your voice growing small, fragile. “I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He watched you in silence, trying to piece together your story, to understand the fear etched into every word.

“Then…” He paused, hesitant but sincere. “Stay the night. You’re welcome here. But you need to tell me what’s going on. I can’t help you if I don’t know.”

His eyes held nothing but kindness, a warmth that radiated safety and trust. How could you not believe in someone who carried protection in every glance, in every gentle movement?

You hesitated, the words locked behind a wall of doubt. Could you really open up? Could you share what had brought you to this moment? You knew once you began, you wouldn’t be able to stop. But wasn’t that the least you owed him?

Sitting in his home, seeking refuge under his roof, didn’t he deserve to know?

You took a deep breath, still hoping—just maybe—that trusting a stranger could be the right thing after all.

There, you told him everything. From the very beginning of your relationship with Minhyuk to the complicated dynamics with your parents. You explained how, ever since your father learned that your ex-fiancé's family wanted to partner with his company, the engagement—and eventual wedding—felt more like a business deal than a union of love. The pressure to marry had crushed the affection you once felt. You also shared how, despite your parents being loving, they valued the family’s public image above all else. To outsiders, you were the picture-perfect family, even if you and your brother Jungwoo avoided media attention. You feared what facing them now would mean. After all, you had dishonored them, and the news had likely already hit the headlines.

After all, it wasn’t just any wedding that collapsed. It was a high-profile merger between two of the most powerful families across Asia and North America. Walking away from Minhyuk at the altar would surely be seen as more than a scandal—it would be a public humiliation and the collapse of a strategic alliance.

Renjun listened intently, his expression never wavering from one of understanding. He offered his home for as long as you needed, reassuring you that there was no rush to face your parents until you were ready. To break the tension that had thickened the air, he proposed a change of subject—something lighter.

“How about we get to know each other a little more?” he suggested with a smile. “Since we’ll be under the same roof for who knows how long.”

The hours melted away as you both shared pieces of your lives.

You learned he worked as a bridal gown designer for a renowned fashion house, dressing celebrities and socialites. His eyes sparkled with pride as he scrolled through pictures of his creations on his phone, and you fell in love with each one.

“When I get married… for real this time…” You laughed, your cheeks warming with a mix of nerves and humor. “Can I wear one of your dresses?”

“It would be an honor to dress you, Miss Kim,” he teased, bowing like a courtly gentleman presenting himself to royalty.

You also learned he was eager to adopt a dog, ever since falling in love with Daegal, a friend’s fluffy white puppy. Speaking of friends, he warned you that they would be visiting tomorrow.

The conversation meandered into trivial, delightful corners—how you both liked your eggs in the morning, and which way the toilet paper should hang (an intense debate you both thoroughly enjoyed). By the time the night stretched into the early morning, you found a friend in Renjun.

Somewhere between the stories and the laughter, sleep claimed you both. You woke hours later, still on opposite sides of the couch.

A delicious aroma drifted into the room, stirring you. Blinking, you took in the faint morning light seeping through curtains drawn closed for your comfort. Stretching, you inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of breakfast. You rubbed your eyes and rose to your feet, following the inviting smell into the kitchen.

Stopping in the doorway, you watched your new friend setting the table, carefully arranging two plates and pouring juice into glasses.

He noticed you immediately and broke into a grin. “Good morning!” he greeted cheerfully. “I set up the guest room for you. Fresh sheets, stocked the bathroom, even put a new toothbrush there.” He gestured at the plates. “Now, go wash your face, or I’m eating without you!”

A laugh bubbled up before you could stop it.

“Good morning, Renjun,” you said with warmth before turning away, a rare calm settling over you.

And for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were exactly where you needed to be.

At their parents' home, Jungwoo had come to check in on them. His father, as expected, was as implacable as ever. He hadn't even offered a polite good morning—just the same grim scowl that seemed carved into his face. His mother, on the other hand, at least acknowledged him with a nod. Though her fury matched her husband’s, she knew there was no point in unleashing it on her son.

“Have you heard from her, my son?” Katherine asked, dabbing at her mouth with a linen napkin.

“No, Mother. I came to see how you’re holding up. I don’t have any news.” He reached across the table, his hand covering hers as he traced small, soothing circles with his thumb. “But I would like to talk about what happened…” His words hung cautiously in the air. He knew this was treacherous ground—too soon, too raw. And if the news wasn’t already plastered across every major outlet, it was only a matter of time before it flooded every screen and headline.

“What’s there to talk about, Jungwoo?” His father’s voice sliced through the room, hard and cold. “You’ve made your choice. You sided with your sister—the irresponsible, selfish girl that she is.”

“What side, dad?” Jungwoo shot back, meeting his father’s tone head-on. “There are no sides. We’re a family!”

“A family?” Hajoon stood abruptly, his chair scraping harshly against the floor as he towered over his son. His eyes burned with rage. “She is not my family. That girl had everything. I gave her everything, and how does she repay me? She destroyed it all, Jungwoo! She is the shame of this family!”

Jungwoo rose to meet his father’s glare, his own anger boiling just beneath the surface. “And what will you do? Disown her? Cast her out because she didn’t follow your script?” His voice sharpened like steel. “Don’t forget, everything you gave her was your choice. You had children because you wanted to. Don’t act as if she owes you her life for that, Kim Hajoon.”

Between them stood Katherine. She remained seated, her eyes shifting between husband and son. Despite her own anger, the woman could not ignore the fierce pull of her maternal heart. Her daughter was still her child, a piece of her soul—a part of her that she could never abandon.

“Watch your tone, boy,” Hajoon growled, his voice rising to a full roar. “I am your father! And yes, that’s exactly what I’ll do. When you find your sister, you tell her she’s no longer part of this family.”

Jungwoo’s lips curled into a bitter smile. His next words came slowly, each syllable dripping with disdain. “Then be my guest. You don’t have children anymore.” He took a step back, chest heaving. “Find yourself another heir to fill your shoes when you’re gone. Maybe Minhyuk—your perfect son-in-law—can step in.”

He turned away, his steps heavy with hurt and defiance. He felt his father’s furious gaze searing into his back, but he didn’t look back.

“Get out of my house!” Hajoon bellowed after him, his voice thundering like a storm.

Jungwoo kept walking. The words, no matter how harsh or cutting, could not pierce the armor of truth he carried within him. Yet, deep down, each cruel utterance still weighed on his heart.

Because no matter how righteous the fight, no matter how strong his resolve, nothing cut quite as deeply as hearing those words from his own father.

“I’m here to collect my sister’s belongings,” Jungwoo said, his voice cold and clipped. “Don’t worry, Hajoon. Just documents—what she’s entitled to. Rest assured, when she comes back, I won’t let you lay so much as a finger on her.”

With that, he turned and strode toward the staircase, urgency propelling him forward. He didn’t need much—only her phone and papers—but the weight of his father’s presence made each step feel heavier.

Behind him, Katherine watched her son disappear up the stairs before fixing her gaze on her husband.

“You didn’t mean a word of that,” she said, her voice a knife hidden in silk.

“I did,” Hajoon snapped, though the crack in his voice betrayed him.

“No, you didn’t.” Her eyes darkened with resolve. “Hajoon, let me make one thing crystal clear—if any harm comes to our children because of one of your outbursts, I swear I’ll destroy you.”

The silence that followed was as sharp as broken glass. She wasn’t bluffing. He knew Katherine’s word was as unyielding as steel.

Moments later, Jungwoo descended the stairs, a small bag in hand. His jaw was set, his eyes stormy as he marched past his parents.

“Jungwoo—”

Her hand reached for his arm, a desperate attempt to keep him from leaving.

“Let me go, mom.”

“Please, my son—”

“Let me go,” he repeated, firmer this time, his patience fraying at the edges.

Reluctantly, her fingers loosened. She stood in silence as he walked out the front door without a backward glance. No goodbye. No hesitation.

Outside, the cool air bit at his skin. Jungwoo crossed the street to where his car waited, pulling out his phone and scrolling for a familiar number.

When Joy answered, he didn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Any news?”

“None,” she sighed.

“When she reaches out,” he said, his tone sharp with urgency, “don’t let her go home. Don’t let her call them—don’t even think about letting her contact our parents. I don’t care if she avoids me too, just let me know she’s safe. I’m bringing her things over. You’ll probably be the first person she tries to find.”

Before she could respond, he ended the call, gripping the phone tightly in his hand.

He slumped against the steering wheel, his breath heavy with frustration.

I hope you know what you’re doing, little sister…

After breakfast, Renjun stretched his arms, gathering the dishes to take them to the sink.

“I’m heading to the market,” he announced, turning on the faucet as water began to flow over the plates. “I need to grab a few things and get ready for my friends coming over later.”

You sat silently for a moment, your fingers absentmindedly rubbing your palms together.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?” He glanced over his shoulder, water running between his fingers as he scrubbed a dish.

“I’m sure.” Rising to your feet, you picked up a dish towel and began drying the plates as he handed them over. “I don’t want to risk being seen.”

Renjun shrugged, exhaling softly in understanding. The silence that followed was calm, broken only by the steady sound of water and the gentle swipes of fabric against ceramic.

“I…” Your voice faltered, hesitant. “I think I want to call Joy.”

He raised an eyebrow, curious but patient.

“Or maybe not,” you added quickly, averting your gaze. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter.”

He turned off the faucet and leaned back against the sink, watching you. “Your best friend?” When you nodded, his lips curved into a small smile. “Of course it matters. You should call her. Even if it’s just to let her know you’re safe… and maybe to find out what’s going on with your family. It might help.”

Your teeth worried your lower lip as you hesitated.

“You don’t have to tell her everything,” he continued. “Just enough.”

Your heartbeat quickened. It’s only Joy, you told yourself. She’s your best friend.

You inhaled deeply, steadying yourself. “Alright…”

“Great.” He handed you his phone with an easy grin. “Use mine. The passcode is 2303.”

He started to leave but paused at the doorway, glancing back with a playful wink. “I’m just going to change clothes. Holler if you need anything.”

Alone with the phone in your hand, you stared at it as if it carried a weight far beyond its physical form. Why? Why this hesitation to reach out to the one person who always had your back?

Just breathe.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you keyed in the passcode.

Moments later, the dial tone buzzed in your ear. You held your breath, the world shrinking to this single connection, until…

“Hello?”

The tension in your chest melted at the familiar voice, and a smile crept onto your face before you realized it.

“Joy.”

Relief poured into your words.

“Oh my God, it’s you!” Her voice burst with a mix of panic and joy. “Where have you been? Are you okay? Are you safe? Are you staying with someone? In a hotel? Do you even know what’s happening out here?”

Her rapid-fire questions shot out like arrows, sharp with urgency, but each one wrapped around you like a warm embrace—reassuring, grounding, reminding you that you had a refuge in her.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you no longer felt alone.

“Joy, I’m fine. I’m safe, staying at a… friend’s place. He’s taking good care of me, so don’t worry.” You hear her let out a heavy sigh of relief before you continue. “I called just to let you know I’m okay and, well… to find out how things are going over there.”

There’s a pause on her end, a hesitation that tells you everything you need to know: things aren’t going well. Which, honestly, was to be expected after yesterday’s spectacle.

“Your dad’s absolutely furious, but I’m sure you figured that out already,” Joy says, her voice lowering into a somber murmur. You hum in acknowledgment, anxiety building in your chest. “Jungwoo had it out with him. Told him they weren’t even part of the same family anymore.”

Your eyes widen. What? Jungwoo fought with dad? What does your brother have to do with this?

“I didn’t get all the details since he didn’t explain much, but…”

You barely catch her words as you notice Renjun descending the stairs. You murmur, “Hold on a sec, Joy,” then turn your attention to him.

“You’re talking to your friend?” he asks with a smile, and you nod, unable to stop a small grin from forming despite the tense conversation.

“Yeah.”

“Well… I won’t be too long. I should be back in about 40 minutes, give or take, depending on lines and traffic. Do you want anything from the market? Ask for anything you like!” His warm smile makes you feel at ease.

“Could you get some granola bars? I love snacking on those…” You ask timidly, feeling a bit shy about requesting something. But honestly, with everything going on, they’ve become your comfort food.

“Of course, silly.” You smile, telling him your favorite flavors and thanking him before he heads out.

When you return to the phone, Joy’s teasing voice immediately greets you.

“So… is he cute? That voice of his sounded dreamy.”

You nearly choke. Coughing a few times, you hear her giggle on the other end.

“Joy! That’s not something you ask!”

“Oh, come on! Just because you ran from a wedding doesn’t mean you can’t notice a handsome guy. So? Spill. Is he hot?”

You can’t help but laugh.

“Um… yeah, he’s pretty hot. And sweet! He’s honestly amazing, Joy,” you say, feeling warm as memories of the night before and this morning flood your mind. Renjun really was a gem. “But enough about him for now. Tell me what happened next!”

“Right, sorry!” Her tone shifts again. “Jungwoo came by earlier. He dropped off your documents, your phone, and a few clothes you left at his place. He knew you’d reach out to me first.”

You bite your lip, grateful for your brother’s intuition.

“But…” Her voice lowers, turning serious. “He said not to let you talk to your parents under any circumstances. Whatever’s going on, it’s bad. So please, don’t reach out to them until I figure out what’s really happening.”

Your stomach twists at her warning.

“Okay… If you find out more, tell me.” A thought occurs, and you add quickly, “Oh, and save this number! It’s Renjun’s phone—this is how we’ll keep in touch.”

“Got it,” she replies.

“And Minhyuk and his family… well, I haven’t heard much about them, but it’s safe to assume they’re just as furious as your father. Jooheon said Minhyuk didn’t say much after the wedding. He just left and hasn’t really kept in touch. He thinks Minhyuk is still processing everything, probably feeling disappointed. I just hope he doesn’t do anything stupid… You know how he can be—bitter and vengeful,” Joy says, her voice full of concern.

“Yeah… What I did to him was so unfair. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if he retaliated. I even thought about talking to him, explaining what made me do it, but… I don’t have the courage.” You exhale a soft, humorless laugh.

“And that’s totally understandable. I’ll reach out to the guys, see if anyone knows how he’s doing, and I’ll keep you updated on whatever I find out, okay?” Sooyoung’s tone turns lighter. “But now, tell me more about this Renjun guy I’ve never heard of! Come on, spill!”

“Well, actually, I just met him yesterday while… running away. I almost got hit by his car.” You chuckle at the memory, even though it was a close call.

“You’re staying at a guy’s house you met yesterday? And he almost ran you over? Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Her tone shifts from curious to stern. And she has every right to be concerned — what are you thinking, spending the night with a total stranger?

“Joy, I told you, it’s fine. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He didn’t push boundaries or make me feel uncomfortable. If he had, I wouldn’t still be here.” You try to justify your actions, but she scoffs in response.

“I still don’t like the sound of this,” she mutters.

The conversation flows from there, stretching into a good few minutes. You talk about everything — from the chaos of the wedding to what happened after your escape and your scattered thoughts about what comes next.

After more than half an hour on the call, you and Joy say your goodbyes. With nothing else to do, you decide to explore the house. Hopefully, there might be a task to keep you occupied until the Chinese boy returns. You get up, leaving your phone on the coffee table, and start with the living room console. There are a few picture frames there, each holding a photo.

You pick up the first one, which shows Renjun and a friend, seemingly on a climbing trip. The two are posing playfully on a massive rock, making you smile. You vividly recall what he told you about that day and how he recommended trying it—well, at least with someone experienced. The second frame holds a picture of him with three kittens, probably belonging to his friend. Two of the three fluffy white furballs are gazing at him adorably, as if mesmerized by the young man. The third frame contains a photo of him alone, with a brightly lit city at night as the backdrop. He’s leaning over what seems to be a bridge railing, wearing a brown trench coat and glasses, accompanied by that beautiful smile of his—the one that suits him so perfectly. You could swear that the first time you saw him smile, especially when he laughed, your world became a little more colorful.

You hear the sound of keys, and moments later, the door opens. Renjun steps in, carrying a few shopping bags. Instinctively, you go to meet him and help.

“Thanks. Wow, I think I took longer than I planned—jeez!” he complains, closing the door as the two of you head to the kitchen.

“Just a little…” you tease, glancing at the clock. The time he estimated had been exceeded by… about an hour and nine minutes.

“A guy’s car broke down in the middle of the avenue. A few of us had to help push it to the shoulder. That little adventure took about twenty minutes,” he explains, washing his hands at the sink. “Oh, and there were some new, unusual flavors of snack bars, so I got a few for you too. Hope you like them,” he adds shyly, glancing at the bags.

You offer him a sweet smile and a shy "thank you." He pulls the little boxes out of the bag, showing them to you. You examine each one with enthusiasm. Truly, you'd never seen them before—not even in advertisements. You felt happy that Renjun had thought about you and even happier knowing you’d get to try all those treats.

“I didn’t ask earlier—how’s your foot?” he asks, unloading the groceries and placing them on the counter.

“Oh, it’s fine. It still hurts a bit, and I definitely can’t put too much weight on it, but I think I’ll survive,” you joke with a smile.

“If you need me to clean it again, just let me know. The last thing I want is to have to take you to the hospital because your wound got infected, Miss Kim.” His shoulders drop slightly as he speaks. How is it that even his scolding sounds so gentle?

“Yes, Sir Huang!” you reply with a mock salute, making him laugh.

“How was your conversation with your friend?” he asks as you sit down on the stool with a sigh.

“The conversation was good, but the situation could be better…” He watches you with a worried expression, walking over and gently holding one of your hands. Your gaze drops to where your hands touch, and you can’t help but feel a warm, comforting sensation.

“What happened?” Renjun’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, his eyes locked on your face. You don’t think he’s doing it on purpose—making you feel this way. This sense of safety, of being cared for. He’s just so naturally good at it.

“Uh… Well… Joy said Jungwoo had a fight with our father, and apparently, they’re no longer on speaking terms… And about Minhyuk, she hasn’t heard from him. I think he’s still shaken, you know? Being left at the altar… I feel a little guilty about it. I mean, he was so good to me…” You sigh, memories of happy times with your ex-fiancé flooding your mind.

“But you didn’t feel the same anymore. And that’s okay. You shouldn’t blame yourself for that. He might be hurt, maybe even angry, but if he truly loves you, I’m sure he’ll give you the chance to explain why you did what you did,” Renjun says, his voice calm and reassuring. You give him a faint smile in response.

“Thank you, Renjun. I think I’ll go back tomorrow. I’ll talk to Joy, Jungwoo, and, of course, try to speak with Minhyuk,” you say. Renjun’s soft smile makes your heart race. Silly heart, why are you doing this? Calm down!

“That’s a good idea. Joy might have already told them you’re okay, but there’s nothing like hearing it directly from you, right?” he says with a playful tone. “If you don’t want to do it alone, I can go with you,” he offers.

You’re tempted to accept—partly out of fear, especially of facing your parents and the Lee family, but also because you’ve come to love Huang’s company. Still, none of this has anything to do with him. The messy family drama, the unresolved emotions, the impulsive decisions—none of it should affect Renjun, even though being with him is already a conflict in itself.

“No need, Renjun. I think it’ll be better if I handle this on my own…” you say. He nods, still gazing intently at you. You smile awkwardly, noticing he hasn’t realized he’s still caressing your hand. “So… what’s for lunch? Can I help you?” you ask, pulling your hand away quickly to change the subject.

Renjun seems to snap back to reality, blinking a few times and clearing his throat before returning to what he was doing. “Ah, yeah… I was thinking of making jjamppong. And, of course, you can help! Just don’t stand up—stay seated right there, exactly as you are,” he responds, a bit shy.

You comply, staying seated as you watch him. Renjun washes the vegetables and hands them to you to chop. As you prepare the meal together, you chat about various things, mostly his friends, who are coming to visit in a few hours. He shares bits about them, wanting you to feel comfortable around them.

“Renjun, how am I supposed to meet your friends looking like this?” you exclaim, gesturing at yourself as you turn to him. He chuckles at your reaction.

“What’s wrong? My clothes fit you perfectly. It’s like a feminine, much prettier version of me,” he jokes, letting the compliment slip naturally, leaving you flustered and shy.

“W-what’s wrong is, have you seen how I usually dress casually?” you ask, exasperated.

“Of course not. I just met you yesterday, and I’m pretty sure your casual wardrobe doesn’t include a wedding dress,” he teases, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching you fuss.

“Nothing like an oversized men’s shirt or jersey shorts, seriously, Renjun?” you protest, trying to fix your hair at the very least.

He watches you, utterly captivated, a small smile lingering on his face. You had just come out of the shower, wearing his fresh clothes—a plain white shirt and gray jersey shorts. Renjun didn’t have anything remotely feminine in his wardrobe, which made sense since it wasn’t his style, nor did he have a sister to help out. This was the best he could manage. You tried folding the shirt and tying it to look more “presentable,” as you put it. He listened as you muttered complaints like, “I’d never go out in public like this” or “A slightly tighter, shorter shirt would make a huge difference.” But he couldn’t care less. You looked so effortlessly beautiful in his clothes.

“Well, I guess this will do,” you finally declare, snapping him out of his little reverie. You had done a simple half-up hairstyle and managed to adjust the shirt to your liking, tying it into a makeshift crop top. “Do you have any makeup around here?” you ask with a playful flutter of your eyelashes, and he obliges.

Renjun retrieves the kit he uses daily and hands it to you, resuming his quiet admiration.

“Some of it might not match your skin tone, so just stick with the eyeshadows, blush, and this brand-new lip balm,” he says, placing the products in front of you, along with a serum. “And can I ask why you’re going to all this trouble to get ready for my friends? You’d look fine to me, messy hair, no makeup, and wearing my clothes just the way they are.” Everything about his words radiates comfort and domesticity.

You can’t help but think of Minhyuk. He used to love you just as you were—completely disheveled, makeup-free, in wrinkled clothes, even with a bit of drool after a night’s sleep. A small, warm smile creeps onto your face at the comforting memory.

“Who said I’m getting ready for your friends?” you retort, raising an eyebrow mockingly. “For your information, I always have to look presentable, even when I’m sleeping. You never know when an emergency might happen in the middle of the night! What if I have to run out because the house catches fire? Or worse, what if I die in my sleep? My ghost is not going to wander around wearing a stained band T-shirt, ripped shorts, and ankle socks.” You explain this while applying the lip balm, your logic making Renjun burst out laughing. Once again, his laughter warms your heart, setting it beating in a way you’re all too familiar with.

The doorbell rings, and your eyes widen. Despite coming from a wealthy, famous, and highly sociable family, you’ve never been a social butterfly—that was always your brother’s role. You’ve preferred to stay in the background, keeping your social circle as small as possible. When necessary, you’d interact politely, of course—your upbringing wouldn’t allow rudeness. But the thought of meeting six new people, all men no less, was nerve-wracking.

Renjun helps you down the stairs, as he’s been adamant about minimizing the strain on your injured foot. One hand supports yours, while the other rests on your waist—now slightly exposed thanks to your tied-up shirt. His firm grip steadies you, and it’s only sheer willpower that stops him from carrying you straight to the sofa. He couldn’t quite understand why he felt so protective of you, but he knew he’d do anything to prevent you from getting hurt again.

“Sit here,” he says, guiding you toward the sofa, but you shake your head in refusal. “Don’t be stubborn.”

“I’m not being stubborn, Huang. But you don’t greet people while sitting down. I’m fine standing for a few minutes,” you explain, resolute. He sighs in defeat, though a soft smile soon tugs at his lips as he lets you be.

The doorbell rings again, this time more impatiently. Renjun strides toward the door, muttering, “Learn to wait, Chenle!” as he unlocks it. Three men come into view, and the one who seems to be Chenle strides in first, grumbling.

“If you were just a bit more efficient... It’s just a door,” he says with a dramatic roll of his eyes. He looks like he has more to say, but his gaze lands on you, standing beside the sofa, and he stops mid-sentence. “Oh, hello, gorgeous,” he says with a grin, stepping closer and extending his hand. “I’m Chenle.”

Shy, you shake his hand and introduce yourself.

“Renjun! You didn’t mention your friend was this pretty,” says the freckled boy—Haechan, apparently. His words make you duck your head, shyness spreading over you as you glance down.

“Shut up, Haechan, and behave, or I’ll throw you out,” Renjun warns, glaring at him. Haechan raises his hands in mock surrender before stepping closer to you and repeating Chenle’s greeting.

“That antisocial guy over there is Jisung,” Renjun says, gesturing toward a tall boy dressed entirely in black. You offer him a polite wave, and Jisung returns a friendly smile.

“And the others?” Renjun asks, watching as Haechan sprawls out on the sofa.

“Mark went to pick up Jeno and Jaemin, but one of his cats wasn’t feeling well, so he’s checking on it. Worst case, he’s bringing the three little troublemakers with him,” Chenle explains, flipping through TV channels. You gasp audibly at the mention of three kittens, and suddenly all eyes are on you. You shrink back slightly.

“Sorry, I just really like cats,” you mumble, which only makes the group chuckle in amusement. Renjun steps closer to you, gently touching your arm.

“You can sit down now. They’re going to take a while, and I don’t want you straining your foot,” he says softly, his tone full of care. It’s obvious he’s trying to divert your attention from the slightly overwhelming presence of the three men, having noticed your discomfort.

Meanwhile, Chenle, Haechan, and Jisung exchange knowing looks, their expressions oozing mischief. Haechan is the first to grab his phone and start typing furiously in their group chat, announcing “renjunnie’s girlfriend :(”. Predictably, the three absent members of the group explode with curiosity and excitement in the chat.

It’s not like Renjun hadn’t already told them what had happened yesterday afternoon. The issue was that he conveniently left out a few crucial details: the girl he almost ran over was now staying at his place, wearing his clothes, and about to have lunch with his friends.

Was this normal behavior for someone who’d just met another person yesterday?

“So, what’s for lunch, huh?” Chenle asks with a cheerful grin.

“Jjamppong. And be nice—she helped me make it,” Renjun replies as he sits beside you, carefully placing a cushion under your leg to keep your foot elevated.

“What’s the story there?” Haechan asks, eyes glinting with curiosity. Renjun shoots him a less-than-friendly look.

“Well, I was…” You hesitate, unsure if Renjun had already filled them in about your situation. You also don’t feel like telling complete strangers that you ran away from your own wedding, so you opt to downplay the story. “...running barefoot on the street and ended up cutting my foot. Definitely not my smartest idea.” You laugh lightly, trying to ease the awkwardness, though the three men exchange puzzled glances.

Once again, the doorbell rings, and Renjun gets up to answer it. He wasn’t expecting Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin to show up so soon—especially since Jaemin is famously attached to his cats and tends to hover over them when they’re unwell. What he wasn’t expecting even more was the sight of each of them carrying one of the cats in their arms.

“Weren’t they supposed to be sick?” Renjun whispers to Jeno as they step inside, visibly confused.

"Yeah, but he just gave them their medication and brought them along. Out of all of us, he’s definitely the most excited to meet your girlfriend." After Jeno’s comment, Renjun could almost swear he saw a question mark floating above his own head, like in a cartoon. But soon enough, he let out a sigh, already knowing who had spread the rumor.

As he closed the door and turned around, he noticed Jaemin standing right next to you, holding Luna in his arms. You looked absolutely delighted. Your love for cats was unmistakable, evident in the way your eyes sparkled as you gazed at the three of them together.

"Our dad never let us have a pet," you shared as Jaemin moved closer, stroking Luna and Luke gently.

“‘Us’?” Mark asked, curious.

"My older brother. When we were kids, he once tried to steal the neighbor’s puppy, but as you can imagine, it didn’t end well. She called the police on him, accusing him of theft, and he denied it to the bitter end, crying his eyes out, begging the officer not to arrest him." You all burst into laughter at the story. The memory was vivid in your mind. You could still picture Jungwoo trembling with fear, even wetting his pants at the thought of being arrested at the tender age of eight—but that part of the story didn’t need to be shared.

"And… how did you two meet?" Jaemin asked, his curiosity piqued. Renjun had given a brief explanation earlier, but Jaemin wanted to hear it from you. He found it hard to believe his friend could start dating someone in just a day. That was more of a Haechan move. Still, who was he to judge love? If Renjun felt it was right, then it was.

You glanced at Renjun, hesitant about how much to share, but he gave you a reassuring nod and a thumbs-up, silently encouraging you to continue. "Well, I was running down the street… barefoot..." you said with a laugh, lifting your injured foot as evidence. "I was so desperate that I didn’t notice the light was green and ended up throwing myself in front of Renjun’s car." You turned to him with a smile, which he returned.

"Good thing I’m an excellent driver with great reflexes," he said smugly, flashing a proud grin—until he noticed your expression.

"But isn’t that just the bare minimum for a driver?" you replied, arching an eyebrow. The room filled with laughter, and all the teasing eyes turned to Renjun, who sighed in defeat. Apparently, you had already joined the club.

"Looks like she got you there," Jeno quipped, laughing as he stretched his legs out on the coffee table. A habit Renjun absolutely despised but had long given up trying to correct after countless ignored requests.

"I refuse to let you join the ‘Renjun Hate Club’ with these degenerates," Renjun muttered, heading toward the kitchen while the others chuckled behind him. "Jisung, come help me!" he called out to the youngest, who groaned as he reluctantly followed.

"I can help—" you started to offer, but Renjun shot you a look that made you pause and blink, lowering your head sheepishly. "Never mind, I guess I can’t…" you murmured, and he gave you a soft, affectionate smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

During lunch, everything went smoothly. The boys made an effort to make you feel more comfortable by bringing up lighthearted topics, giving you plenty of opportunities to join in on the conversations. Even Jisung opened up and shared a few words, and you realized he was simply shy—much like you. He felt more at ease in the presence of close friends.

You also learned that Jeno was once part of the same world of media and wealth but had given it all up to live in anonymity, free from his family’s expectations and pressure. And he was absolutely right to do so; you were sure you’d follow his example after the whole wedding fiasco.

Amid the laughter and chatter, lunch came to an end. The meal was excessively praised which made you feel bashful, though in a good way. After all, if Renjun had been solely responsible for the meal, he would’ve been endlessly teased.

Now, everyone was debating what to watch. Renjun and Mark were voting for comedy, while Jeno and Jisung leaned toward action. Haechan and Chenle argued for suspense, and you threw in a random vote for romantic comedy, aligning with Jaemin. Honestly, you didn’t think the choice of movie mattered much since, from what little you’d seen of Renjun’s friends, they seemed like the type to talk over the whole thing anyway.

“It’s a tie…” Jisung stated the obvious.

“Why doesn’t Renjun decide? It’s his house, isn’t it?” you suggested, and everyone turned to you, though only two of them looked pleased.

“No,” Haechan shot back, making you laugh. “Let’s settle this with a wheel spin.” He pulled out an app on his phone and entered the genres into a digital roulette. Clearly, these disagreements happened often.

The TV was still tuned to a random news channel. Jeno had turned it on, thinking the guys might behave a bit better with you around. He was wrong.

You were completely distracted, stroking Luke, who was napping peacefully in your lap. You almost didn’t notice Minhyuk’s face appear on the screen. But when your eyes caught the image on the TV, you froze.

“Jeno, turn it up, please,” you asked, your tone suddenly serious, your gaze glued to the screen.

“Come on, are you seriously gonna watch the news—” Jeno joked, not giving it much thought.

“Jeno. Turn the damn volume up.” This time, you looked at him directly, and he swore a chill ran down his spine. He had never encountered a woman so… commanding, except maybe his mother. There was something in your expression and tone that left no room for argument.

“[...] And as I stood at the altar, waiting for the woman I thought was the love of my life, she abandoned me.” Your eyes widened. Something deep inside you told you this press conference would spell disaster for your reputation. “She ran away from the wedding, leaving everyone waiting and worried, while she ran off with her lover. And she hasn’t even shown up to explain herself.” Minhyuk’s voice was dripping with hatred. You could almost see the venom in his words.

Your jaw dropped instantly, and the boys around you exchanged worried glances. No, he’s not doing this.

“Do you know him?” Renjun, sitting beside you, asked cautiously. But you didn’t answer. Your focus remained entirely on the screen.

“That’s why I’m saying this here and now, to finally end this charade. Y/N Kim is not who you think she is. She’s manipulative, deceitful, and cruel. She fooled me for years without a shred of remorse…” At that moment, you stopped listening.

You couldn’t believe the man you once loved was capable of doing this to you—spreading lies just to ruin your reputation. Sure, your heart still carried guilt for leaving him at the altar, but this? This was too much.

Yet, you could feel the guilt and regret fading, replaced by anger and a thirst for vengeance. If he wanted an ex-fiancée who was manipulative and cruel, then that’s exactly what he would get.

“Renjun, give me your phone, please,” you said, extending your hand toward him, your voice calm but firm. Your gaze quickly flickered to the others in the room, taking note of the shock on each of their faces. But you weren’t intimidated. Taking the already-unlocked phone, you searched through the call history and dialed Joy.

The phone rang three times before Sooyoung’s voice came through. You didn’t even need to say anything before she spoke. “I’m watching the show too. Jooheon just told me about it—apparently, Minhyuk gathered everyone at the last minute, and even he didn’t know.”

You let out a dry laugh, your tongue pressing against the inside of your cheek as you kept your eyes fixed on the nonsense your ex-fiancé was spewing on TV. “I need you to come pick me up. Now,” you said curtly before hanging up.

You asked Renjun for the address, which he immediately provided. Typing it into a text, you sent it to your best friend.

Without missing a beat, Jeno turned off the TV, sparing you from any further torment. The room fell into an awkward silence. While Renjun watched you with concern, the other boys seemed more curious than anything else.

“Is it okay to ask?” Chenle finally muttered, only to receive a light smack from Mark, who promptly silenced him.

“You all asked how I hurt my foot…” you began, your voice carrying the weight of suppressed emotion. “I was running away from my wedding to that…” you paused, closing your eyes as anger surged through you. Words failed to capture just how furious you felt toward Lee Minhyuk. “Idiot. And no, I didn’t cheat on him—least of all with Renjun. I’ve only known him for a day,” you clarified quickly, eager to dispel any lingering doubts.

“I just… I wasn’t feeling right. It wasn’t what I wanted, and without thinking, I ran.” Your expression softened, tinged with melancholy. You felt truly disheartened, betrayed by someone you thought you knew so well. Years of what had seemed like a happy relationship had come crashing down, leaving behind a bitter taste you couldn’t ignore.

A familiar warmth enveloped you as Renjun pulled you into a hug. You looked up at him, offering a small, grateful smile, before leaning further into his embrace. He held you with care and kindness, making you feel secure in a way you hadn’t expected.

Tilting your head back to keep the tears at bay proved futile as emotion overwhelmed you. They spilled over, your fragile heart breaking under the weight of everything.

“And I don’t even want to think about how my dad’s feeling—if he’s watching this,” you choked out, your voice quivering with restrained sobs. A comforting hand rested on your shoulder, this time from Jaemin. “God, he’s going to kill me…” you murmured to yourself, curling further into Renjun’s chest for solace.

Part of you felt pathetic for crying in front of seven men you barely knew—especially over someone who hadn’t even given you the chance to explain your side before painting you as the villain. You knew your actions hadn’t been the most rational and that you should’ve at least talked to Minhyuk. But you’d been too desperate to think straight.

On the other hand, you couldn’t deny how comforted you felt in Renjun’s arms. You never thought you’d find solace in a stranger, but here you were. Feeling something so deep and reassuring, you dared to think that Minhyuk had never made you feel this way.

“I’m sorry, guys…” you mumbled, your voice muffled against Renjun’s chest but still loud enough for the others to hear.

"You don’t have to apologize. He was a complete jerk; it’s not your fault," Mark reassured you, sitting down on the floor beside you.

“It kind of is. I left him at the altar…” you lamented, sniffing as your eyes began to burn again, threatening another wave of relentless tears. Unable to hold it back, you buried your face in Renjun’s chest once more.

“Like you said yourself, you weren’t feeling good about it. You just did what you thought was best for you at the time. And you did the right thing. You don’t have to blame yourself for anything,” Jeno’s calm voice chimed in as he walked closer.

“Exactly. If he had any sense, he would’ve listened to you. Seriously, it’s been, what, a day? And he’s already pulling this ridiculous stunt?” Haechan added, placing a comforting hand on your back and rubbing it gently.

“Yeah… It’s almost like he’s trying to gain something out of all this…” Chenle speculated, suspicion evident in his tone.

Before you realized it, you were surrounded by all of them, each radiating care and concern.

“I’ve already told her she’s not to blame, but does she listen to me? Nope,” Renjun teased lightly, his fingers running through your hair. “Can we all agree now that he’s not worth it? Look at you—here you are, crying your heart out over a guy who doesn’t even deserve it.” His hand slipped down to cup your cheek, gently tilting your face up so he could meet your eyes. His gaze held you captive, and gradually, your tears began to subside.

“Yep. Men are trash,” Jisung quipped with a disdainful shrug.

“Hey, let’s not get carried away,” Jeno protested, feigning offense.

“What? I’m a man who doesn’t like men. And I’ll say this—I always support women in their rights and wrongs!” Jisung’s dramatic declaration earned a genuine laugh from you, breaking the trance Renjun’s gaze had put you in. Smiling, you buried your face back into his chest, feeling a little lighter.

“Are you rooting against your own team, you idiot?” Mark tossed a pillow at Jisung, who dodged it effortlessly.

“Oh, as if you don’t use that same line to flirt with girls,” Jisung shot back, smirking. Mark’s expression turned red, especially with you in the room. Without a word, he began chasing Jisung around the living room, carefully avoiding the cats scattered on the floor.

“Hey, I have a genuine question,” Jaemin called out, grabbing your attention. “Is it true that women like pathetic men?”

You burst out laughing at his so-called “genuine” question. “Not all, but yeah, a lot of them do,” you replied, resting your head against Renjun’s shoulder while glancing around. Mark had paused his pursuit of Jisung, looking intrigued by the conversation.

“Hmm… are you one of them?” Haechan asked slyly, clearly attempting to flirt. His comment made Renjun visibly flustered, prompting him to swat at Haechan in irritation.

“Alright, alright, my bad! Forgot she’s yours,” Haechan teased with a mischievous grin. The comment made Renjun’s eyes widen, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Yours?” you repeated, sitting up straight as you smirked. You weren’t offended at all; in fact, you found it amusing. Of course, you didn’t take the comment seriously, but you couldn’t resist playing along. “Am I yours?” you asked again, leaning closer to Renjun, watching as he became even more flustered.

The other boys were barely holding in their laughter, enjoying the sight of their friend practically melting into the couch.

“You know they’re just… messing around,” Renjun mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper, clearly embarrassed. Mentally, he vowed to get back at Donghyuck as soon as you left the room.

You turned your attention to Haechan, who still wore a mischievous smirk. Whatever comeback he was planning was cut short by the sound of the doorbell.

Startled, you stood up quickly, inadvertently putting too much pressure on your injured foot. Pain shot through your sole, causing you to wince sharply. The boys immediately noticed, their expressions shifting to concern. Before your legs could give out entirely, Jaemin stepped in, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

The doorbell rings again, and Mark is the one who goes to answer it. He barely has time to register who’s at the door before the man barges in, pushing the door—and whoever was behind it—aside, frantically looking for his younger sister, desperate for news about her. He scans the room, and the relief on his face is almost tangible.

“Oh my God, you’re okay!” he exclaims with a smile but quickly notices her pained expression. Jungwoo swiftly moves to kneel in front of you. His eyes catch Jaemin’s hand still resting on your waist, and he shoots him a deadly glare, making the younger man withdraw immediately. “What happened?” His tone and demeanor shift dramatically.

“I hurt my foot while running away from the wedding,” you explain quickly.

“Sorry about him; he was just worried,” Joy apologizes, still standing by the door. Mark invites her in, and she thanks him, stepping closer to the group. “I had to bring him. He was with me when you called,” she explains, feeling the need to clarify since she’d never intended to reveal your location to anyone.

“It’s fine, better here than… causing trouble,” you mutter, referring to someone who shouldn’t be mentioned now.

“I wasn’t going to cause trouble,” Jungwoo defends himself, stroking Lucy, who has found comfort resting against his legs. “I just wanted to have an honest conversation, you know, man-to-man.” Both Joy and you exchange tired looks.

“Even you don’t believe that,” she counters, shaking her head. “Anyway, I’m Joy, and this is Jungwoo. It’s a pleasure to meet you all,” she introduces herself warmly. Behind you, you hear a sigh and turn to see the smitten faces of Chenle and Haechan.

“You better not even get it started; she’s married,” you whisper, and their attention snaps back to you.

“To your brother?” Haechan asks curiously, still unable to take his eyes off the older woman. He doesn’t notice the disgusted face you make at the absurd suggestion.

“Who cares? It’s better to compete with one than with a hundred,” Chenle quips but quickly glances at his friend with mild disdain. “Or two…” Hearing this nonsense, you toss a pillow at the Chinese boy, though the older one is smart enough to dodge your attack.

“I’m Renjun,” Huang says, standing up and offering a handshake to both Joy and Jungwoo.

“Wow, you were right…” Joy glances at you but then focuses on the younger man in front of her. She studies his delicate and attractive features, smiling, which flusters Renjun.

Her comment makes you nervous too. Thank goodness she didn’t give any context!

“Well, I hope you don’t mind if we don’t stick around,” Jungwoo announces, getting to his feet. “We need to take you to the hospital, and missy, you’re staying at my place.” He helps you stand up.

“Hospital?” you ask, alarmed. You’ve always hated hospitals—they smell bad, are full of sick people, and worst of all, they hurt you more before they heal you.

“Yes, ma’am. Who knows what you stepped on?” Jungwoo says in a firm tone, making you pout. You always feel like a naughty child when he talks to you like that. It takes you back to the days when your father would scold you for every little thing you did as a child.

“Fine,” you agree reluctantly, though it’s not like you have much of a choice.

Before leaving, you grabbed the dress. You needed to return it to the designer. You weren’t going to wear that piece again—not when you were no longer marrying the man you once thought was right for you. As you looked at the dress, anger surged within you. Anger at having almost entrusted your life to someone who, at the first opportunity, threw you to the wolves. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what people were saying, what your family was thinking, and honestly, you didn’t want to. You had already punished yourself enough in the span of one day—you needed a break.

You said goodbye to Renjun, the boys, and, of course, the kittens, with a promise to return and spend much more time with them. They seemed to like you so much.

At the moment, Jungwoo was driving to Joy’s house because you refused to go to the hospital before changing clothes. Renjun’s clothes were comfortable, and you loved them, but they weren’t exactly suitable for being out in public. Joy sat beside you, scrolling through social media, looking for reactions to Minhyuk’s important statement. Her expression was unreadable, which only made you more uneasy.

Noticing your agitation, she spoke up: “Jungwoo, why don’t you explain to your sister why she can’t go back home?” Her attention shifted, now interested in what your older brother had to say.

“Earlier, I went to our parents’ house, and Hajoon was impossible.” His words startled you—not so much because of the situation, which you’d already expected, but because he referred to your father by his name.

“Hajoon…” you murmured, and Jungwoo glanced at you through the rearview mirror. “Why?”

Your father had always been stern and struggled to show affection to you and your brother, especially you. For some reason, you had always been very attached to him. You wanted him to host tea parties, play with your dolls, and even help you choose outfits on special occasions. But this often irritated him, as he came home exhausted from long days at work. You would still pester him, asking him to sit on the floor and pretend that the sink water was tea and that your dolls could talk.

Most times, he’d refuse, but after your insistence, he would grow even more irritated, leading to shouting matches. That’s when Jungwoo would step in—your protector, your knight in shining armor. Time and again, he argued with your father on your behalf. He had long ago accepted that your father wasn’t interested in spending time with you both. But you didn’t understand that and kept going back, hoping for more. Jungwoo was never particularly close to Hajoon, but he still respected him and always called him “Dad.”

Now, hearing Jungwoo refer to him by his name felt like a punch in the gut. What have I done…?

“He said he was going to disown you and kick you out of the family, so I disowned myself too,” Jungwoo said, smiling faintly as if to soften the blow.

“Jungwoo, this has nothing to do with you, for God’s sake,” you scolded, watching him pull a face.

“Of course it does. You’re my sister—I’ll stand by you anywhere, anytime.” You gave him a small smile, squeezing his shoulder. “And honestly, who even wants to be that man’s son? Let’s be real. If it weren’t for mom, we’d have spent our childhood in a boarding school. I couldn’t care less about giving up being a Kim,” he finished, turning his face away in a huff.

“You know you can’t change your brother’s mind,” Joy chimed in, still focused on her phone.

“Yeah… but it makes me think that in twenty-one years, he’s finally stopped pretending to care. He’s not even trying to fake it anymore…” You felt the tears welling up again. “I guess you were right—Minhyuk and Dad really do think the same way.”

Jungwoo’s heart clenched painfully. Why did you have to be so attached to a man who had never valued you? Why did you have to love him so deeply when he hadn’t returned even a fraction of that pure, boundless affection?

Joy wrapped her arms around you in a warm embrace, comforting you. She glanced forward, trying to read Jungwoo’s expression as he clenched his jaw and gripped the steering wheel tightly. If letting him near your father before was risky, now that Hajoon had made you cry, there was no way the two of them could be in the same room.

Against your brother’s protests about freshening up, the first thing you did upon arriving at his house was grab your phone and hurry to the bedroom—or at least move as quickly as you could with your injured foot. You had already asked Joy for Renjun’s number, and she gave it to you without hesitation.

And now, here you are: sitting on the bed, talking to Renjun.

“And how are you doing? I mean, with the whole situation, you know?”

“I’m still processing everything and… planning my revenge.”

“Revenge? Look, I know what he did was awful, and I’d definitely want to punch his face in, but revenge?”

“Renjun, in this world—even though I’m not exactly ‘public’—reputation still matters. And he destroyed mine. Of course, I’m going to get even! Now, enjoy yourself with the boys. I have to convince Jungwoo that I don’t need to go to the hospital. Take care.”

Without waiting for his response, you lock your phone and toss it onto the bed before standing. Just as you were about to leave the room, your brother appeared, knocking twice to announce himself before opening the door. You sighed and sat back down on the bed.

“Don’t be like that, little doll. I only want what’s best for you,” he said, crouching in front of you.

“I know, but I’m fine now. The cut isn’t deep, and Renjun took great care of it,” you explained, crossing your arms and watching as your brother’s expression turned curious.

“Why don’t you tell me more about this Renjun, huh?” Jungwoo stood, plopping down on the bed next to you and pulling you down to lie beside him. “You two seemed close. I mean, all of them did…” His gaze fell on you, eyebrows furrowed. “Was it them you—”

“No! Shut up, Jungwoo!” You slapped a hand over his mouth to silence him. “Actually, I only met him yesterday. He almost ran me over…” you said, smiling fondly at the memory of meeting the Chinese boy. You predicted your brother’s reaction and cut him off before he could begin a lecture, just like Joy had tried. “Save your breath. Renjun was incredibly kind and respectful to me. I know it was reckless… going to a stranger’s house, but I was desperate, and he seemed trustworthy.”

Jungwoo opened his mouth again, only for you to interrupt him once more. “And I was right! Don’t start with that either. I think I’m old enough to have learned my lesson, Woo.” You fixed your gaze on a spot on the ceiling.

“How do you do that?” he asked, horrified, looking at you strangely.

“I know you too well. And it’s not just that—you and Joy are like the same person. Seriously,” you teased, making him laugh as he folded his arms behind his head.

The room fell into silence, with both of you staring at the gray ceiling. You were both thinking about the same thing, though in different ways. You wanted to take down Minhyuk—subtly, little by little. This public fallout had already gone too far, and the last thing you wanted was to worsen the situation for your family. You couldn’t even bring yourself to check social media, too afraid of what people might be saying.

Jungwoo, on the other hand, had already asked Joy about it and knew things weren’t looking good. While a fair number of people were on your side, others were saying cruel things. He preferred to shield you from it. As for Minhyuk, it was best to keep him far away. If Jungwoo had the chance, he might send him to the hospital—and that would only escalate everything, especially for you.

“So… what do you plan to do now? About the… situation…” he asked gently, turning his head to look at you. He was trying to tread carefully, unsure of how much this had hurt you.

“I don’t know yet, but I’m dying to give him what he deserves,” you said, still staring at the same spot on the ceiling. “I just need some time and to see how much traction his idiotic speech is getting.” You sighed, sitting up and looking back at him. “I hope you brought my clothes.”

“There are some you left here. I didn’t grab anything from Mom’s house because Hajoon already blew up when I took your documents. Imagine if I walked out with a suitcase.” He sighed, mirroring yours. “But if you want, I can ask Joy to buy some more for you.”

“No, that’s fine, Woo. Thanks.” You stood, and so did he.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to talk to our parents, whether they like it or not,” you declared, heading to the bathroom. “I just need this foot to heal so I can wear my heels again. I hope I left a few pairs here,” you muttered to yourself, making your brother laugh at your priorities.

Soon after, he left the room to give you some privacy.

Downstairs, Jungwoo found Joy on the phone. The moment she noticed him, she abruptly ended the call, making him narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“What was that about?” he asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” she replied quickly, locking her phone and crossing her arms. “How is she?” Joy asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

Jungwoo hesitated, still suspicious of her sudden behavior.

“Come on, Jungwoo, it was just an unnecessary call. Don’t stress over it,” she pressed, raising a brow as if daring him to challenge her.

“Huh. She’s doing fine. And if I know her well, she’s already plotting something against that jerk. Honestly, I don’t blame her.” Jungwoo walked to the kitchen, grabbed a glass, and filled it with water. He offered it to Joy, but she declined. “Oh, and she said she’s planning to go to mom and Hajoon’s place tomorrow.” He caught himself mid-sentence, quickly correcting how he addressed his father, and took a big gulp of water, visibly restless.

“Jungwoo, you really need to stop worrying so much about her. She’s a grown woman now,” Joy said, her voice calm but firm.

“She might be grown, but she’s still, and always will be, my little sister, Joy. I’ll never stop worrying. I just need... to figure out how to adjust.” He refilled his glass and exhaled deeply.

It wasn’t that he thought Hajoon would harm you physically, but he couldn’t guarantee there wouldn’t be yelling or some harsh words thrown your way.

“Missing her already, lover boy?” Haechan’s teasing voice cut through the air, immediately getting under Renjun’s skin. He sighed loudly, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.

“Shut your mouth, Donghyuck, or I’ll throw this plate at your face,” Renjun snapped, making Haechan raise his hands in mock surrender while laughing. He went back to organizing the kitchen counter, but the grin never left his face.

Ever since you left, Renjun’s mood had noticeably shifted. He had grown quieter, barely engaging in conversations or reacting to jokes. It was obvious that something was bothering him, and Haechan, of course, couldn’t resist poking fun at it.

The only time Renjun seemed even remotely himself was when he looked at his phone. He had even smiled for a brief moment earlier. Jisung, ever the observer, caught a glimpse and quietly told the others that it was you he was texting. That small revelation earned knowing smiles from the group. However, as soon as the conversation ended, Renjun returned to his sulky demeanor.

“Come on, just admit it—you’re smitten with her, aren’t you?” Mark asked casually while drying the dishes.

“Is this what love at first sight looks like?” Jaemin chimed in from the living room, his voice dripping with mock curiosity.

“Oh, you’re one to talk about love, huh, Jaemin?” Renjun shot back irritably, referencing his friend’s own complicated situation. Jaemin muttered something inaudible, clearly embarrassed. “And no, I’m not smitten with her. I’m just worried. I’ve only known her for a day, but she’s my friend.”

“Damn, calling her ‘just a friend’ even stung me,” Haechan muttered under his breath, loud enough for Renjun to hear. In response, Renjun splashed water in his direction, silencing him.

“I’m serious. I’m just worried,” Renjun insisted. But even as he said it, his thoughts drifted to you. He couldn’t help but think about you, replaying every interaction in his mind. Was it possible to fall for someone so quickly? It didn’t make sense.

“Look at that—he’s thinking about her again,��� Mark whispered to Haechan, both of them chuckling under their breath.

Renjun spun around, his patience wearing thin. “Why is my love life suddenly your favorite topic? Shouldn’t you two be more worried about your own, Haechan and Jaemin?”

“Oh, mine’s doing just fine, thanks for asking,” Jaemin quipped as he strutted into the kitchen, one of the kittens trailing behind him. “I’m handling things like a pro.” He crossed his arms smugly, flashing a self-satisfied grin.

Everyone exchanged skeptical looks.

“What? Why are you all looking at me like that?” Jaemin asked, confused, as the kitten let out a soft meow — almost as if it, too, was judging him.

“Seriously? ‘Handling it well?’ You break up with your girlfriend, and the first thing you do is go after her best friend?” Chenle asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“The girl’s cool, and honestly, it’s just an unfortunate coincidence that she happens to be my ex’s best friend. Everything’s fine, though, guys,” Jaemin replied smoothly, but his laid-back attitude only earned more mocking looks from his friends.

“When Lyla finds out, she’ll probably cut the girl’s throat,” Jeno chimed in, joining the conversation.

“That’s the thing—she already knows, and she’s fine with it,” Jaemin explained confidently. Jeno raised a skeptical brow.

“I’m serious. Everything’s good,” Jaemin added with a casual shrug.

“Anyway, what about you, Haechan? Hooking up with your ex’s enemy?” The attention shifted to the younger Lee after Renjun pointed at him.

“Okay, I admit it wasn’t my most mature decision,” Haechan conceded, almost giving Renjun a point. “But she’s hot, and we’re having a lot of fun,” he added with a mischievous laugh, causing Mark, Jeno, Renjun, and Jisung to sigh in unison. The others, however, couldn’t help but laugh along, clearly enjoying the chaos.

“You’re all a bunch of idiots,” Renjun muttered under his breath, turning back to finish washing the dishes.

Standing in front of the mansion, you hesitated. You mentally replayed everything you planned to say, going over every possible reaction your parents might have when they saw you. It had been a day since Minhyuk’s infamous press conference, and, as promised, here you were—at your parents’ residence.

Taking a deep breath, you called out to the security guard.

“Miss Kim,” he greeted politely, and you gave him a brief, tight smile. You weren’t in the mood for pleasantries, but you weren’t going to be rude either. Making your way to the front door, you raised a hand to knock, but before you could, the door opened, revealing your mother.

You braced yourself. You expected her to yell, to reprimand you, and only then to offer comfort. But to your surprise, the moment her eyes landed on you, she pulled you into a warm embrace.

Katherine seemed eerily calm, and that unnerved you.

“Come in, sweetheart,” she said gently, guiding you into the house with a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “When we didn’t hear from you yesterday, I was worried sick. I feared the worst,” she confessed, stopping in front of you to cradle your face in her hands. “You can’t imagine the relief I felt when Joy told me you were okay.”

Joy. Of course, she had called your mother. You wanted to be annoyed, or at least curious, but deep down, you knew she had done it out of concern for your well-being.

“I thought you’d be angry,” you murmured softly, sadness lacing your voice. Katherine smiled faintly.

“Oh, my darling, I was,” she admitted, her tone firm for a moment, making you glance at her warily. But then it softened again, washing away your anxiety. “But when Joy explained what happened... I understood. And I’m so sorry, Peanut,” she said, using your childhood nickname and brushing your cheek with the back of her hand. “I admit, when Minhyuk’s parents proposed the idea, I agreed without much thought. I didn’t think you’d feel pressured, especially since Minhyuk seemed to agree so readily. I thought you two were on the same page.”

You frowned, confusion clouding your expression.

“What do you mean? He knew about it from the start?” you asked, shocked. You had only found out about the whole arrangement—the merger of families and businesses—after the wedding.

“Yes…?” Your mother looked just as confused. “He was at the meeting. He said he’d discussed it with you and that you only weren’t there because you had plans with your friends.”

That was the last straw. Anger surged through you, your expression hardening.

“It’s fine, Mom,” you said curtly, ending the topic. “Thanks for worrying, but as you can see, I’m fine. I didn’t come here to talk about this. I’m guessing you already know what I want to discuss.”

Katherine sighed, straightening her posture and nodding.

“Is dad home?”

“In his office.” You turned to leave, but she grabbed your wrist, stopping you.

“Sweetheart, your father is furious, especially after Minhyuk’s press conference. Are you sure you want to do this today?” she asked, her eyes searching yours.

“Before I share my side of the story, I need to talk to both of you. I’m not putting this off. My image is being destroyed because of your ‘golden boy,’ and I don’t care if dad’s mad. Believe me, I’m much angrier.”

You pulled your arm free from her grasp and marched toward your father’s office, determination blazing in your every step.

The dark doors burst open with a sudden force, cutting Hajoon's phone call short. He immediately ended the call as soon as his ungrateful daughter appeared in his office. Behind you was your mother, following closely, though she didn’t seem angry at all—her calm demeanor puzzled Hajoon.

“What are you doing in this house? You are not welcome here,” he snapped, rising from his seat. Your father was an imposing figure—his height, stern face, and booming voice could intimidate anyone. But you didn’t flinch. You were tired.

Katherine quickly moved to his side, trying to calm him down. She could see his rage building and wanted to prevent things from escalating.

“I just came to grab a few things and ask your opinion, dear father, about that sleazy Lee’s speech. And, of course, I’d like to know how you manage to be so… miserable, rejecting your children the way you do,” you retorted, your tone dripping with mockery. The bitter taste of rejection filled your mouth. You wanted to say more, to hurl years’ worth of pain at him, but you restrained yourself. Being painted as the traitor was bad enough; you didn’t need to be the hysterical one too.

“Reject? My behavior is proportional to yours!” His voice grew louder. “I gave you everything, girl. To you and your brother! And this is how you repay me? First, you run away from the marriage I invested money, partnerships, and countless hours planning, only to have you throw it all away. Then, I find out—on national television—that you’ve been cheating on Minhyuk all along?” His tone was mocking, incredulous at the allegations. “And your brother? He made his choice when he sided with you. You are the disgrace of this family, Kim Y/N!” he roared, the final sentence echoing like a thunderclap.

“Disgrace? Because we didn’t bend to your whims?” you shouted back, matching his intensity. Both your father and mother looked stunned.

It wasn’t like you to yell or confront him. That role was usually reserved for Jungwoo. You had always been the obedient daughter—the good girl who caused no trouble, accepted everything without complaint, and kept her head down. But not anymore. Being the perfect daughter had gotten you nowhere.

“I’ve had enough,” you said, your voice calmer but no less firm. You stood tall, meeting his glare. “I’m done being the good little girl you always wanted me to be. You’re not worth it.”

He opened his mouth to respond, furious, but you cut him off.

“Shut up. I’m not finished,” you snapped, and both your parents’ eyes widened at your audacity. Hajoon’s fury only deepened.

“I’m done chasing after you, begging for scraps of love from the father I once adored. Look at me—where did being the perfect daughter, always silent, always obedient, get me? I said shut up!” You were beyond caring now. To hell with hysteria, to hell with family unity, to hell with Hajoon and his oppressive control.

“When have I ever done something for myself? Ballet, friendships, schools, even college—it was all for you. I’ve always obeyed, and this is how you treat me? My happiness has never mattered to you, Hajoon. To you, Jungwoo and I were never more than heirs to your empire. And now, the moment I do something for myself—fight for my happiness—I’m suddenly the disgrace of the family?” You laughed bitterly, running a hand through your hair, your blood boiling with rage.

“And you think, because you gave me ‘everything,’ including an amazing mother—one of the only things I can thank you for—you know me so well? You should know I’d never betray someone.”

“Funny you say that. That argument died the moment you walked out of this house two days ago. What guarantee do I have that you’re not just a slut who’ll sleep with anyone?”

The sharp crack of your hand across his face echoed through the room. His eyes widened in disbelief at what just happened.

“You will never speak to her like that again, Hajoon,” your mother’s voice broke the tense silence. Her eyes burned with a fury you had never seen, not even when Jungwoo and you accidentally ruined her expensive painting. Katherine’s breathing was ragged, her anger barely contained.

“Not only are you questioning my daughter’s character, but you’re also insulting my worth as a mother. If you ever say something like that again, I swear I’ll do something I’ll regret,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Enough. You are not my father. You never were. Jungwoo was right to abandon you at the first opportunity. You’re lucky to still have Mom, because as far as your children are concerned, you have none,” you declared, turning your back on him. “Not that you wanted us anyway, right?” you added bitterly, storming out of the room.

Your mother called after you, her voice pleading, but you ignored her, quickening your pace to leave the house. You had even given up on retrieving your belongings. You wanted nothing from that man—not his money, not his name, not his legacy.

It had been hours since you left your parents’ house, and the sun was beginning to set.

Since walking out, you had wandered the streets, lost in thought. Memories flooded your mind—everything that had happened before the wedding, during the preparations, and everything that had led to your current situation.

A soft knock on your bedroom door broke your reverie. You were finishing getting ready, spritzing on perfume and checking your bag one last time.

Katherine entered after you gave her permission, stepping inside with a proud smile.

“Minhyuk is waiting for you in the living room,” she announced warmly. She was proud of you, proud that you were taking steps to focus on your life and find clarity—even in your relationships.

Unlike Jungwoo, who buried himself in work and showed no interest in any of the daughters of the family’s business partners, you had decided to give Minhyuk a chance. You had met him at one of the many charity events his father hosted. As usual, you and Jungwoo were dragged to these events to present the image of a happy, business-minded family, destined to inherit the empire.

At the start of the evening, you and Jungwoo greeted the hosts before being promptly abandoned by your parents, who left to socialize and discuss business with other guests. Jungwoo wanted to catch up with a friend but hesitated to leave you alone. Only after you assured him it was fine did he finally leave, while you wandered off to distract yourself with the appetizers at the party since you weren’t allowed to drink yet.

“You might like this one; the dough is made from potatoes,” a male voice interrupted your thoughts. You turned to see who it was. You recognized him—he was the son of one of your father’s friends.

“Thank you...” you murmured shyly, feeling slightly uneasy under his persistent gaze.

“I’m Minhyuk. It’s a pleasure,” he introduced himself, extending his hand. When you hesitantly offered yours, he brought it to his lips, leaving a soft kiss on your delicate skin.

Later, you asked your mother to clasp the necklace around your neck, and she happily obliged. As you looked up from your purse to the mirror, you caught sight of her face beaming with pride.

“I’m so proud of you, you know?” she said, resting her chin on your shoulder and gently adjusting your hair. “It makes me happy to see you giving someone from our circle a chance. Do you think he can make you happy?”

You hesitated for a moment. It was too soon to tell—after all, you had only met him two weeks ago, and tonight was your first official date. But if he continued behaving as he had been, you were sure the answer would be yes.

“I think so, mom…” you replied, smiling.

“Good. That’s all that matters,” she said, brushing your arms affectionately. “Now go, don’t keep him waiting!” Katherine encouraged you, handing you your purse before ushering you out.

As you descended the stairs, you could hear two male voices, which you quickly identified as your father and Minhyuk. The moment they noticed your presence, both turned to face you with smiles. Lee Minhyuk always had a certain sparkle in his eyes whenever you were the center of his attention, but tonight... it felt even more intense. His gaze glimmered like that of a tiger.

But you weren’t happy. Far from it.

You couldn’t believe you had trusted that man. Fury surged through you as you abruptly stood from the bench, slinging your purse over your shoulder. With purposeful strides, your heels clicked loudly against the floor, echoing your growing anger.

“Y/N?” A familiar male voice called out. Turning around, you saw Jeno approaching, his smile widening as he recognized you. “Oh, wow, you look… different,” he remarked, gesturing to your outfit.

You were wearing a sleeveless white dress with a V-neckline, paired with white high heels, a light blue purse, and a matching headband that swept your hair back. It was nothing like the casual clothes you had worn the day you first met.

“Yeah, I look less... Renjun,” you said with a smile. Though the mention of the Chinese boy brought a genuine smile to your face, the scowl on your features remained evident, prompting Jeno to frown slightly.

“Is everything okay? You seem upset. Is this about your... ex-fiancé?” he asked cautiously. But the mere mention of Minhyuk made you roll your eyes.

“I think so...” you muttered with a pout before resuming your stride, expecting him to follow.

“It’s just... the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced this was Minhyuk’s plan all along,” you whispered. With every passing thought, the pieces fell into place.

“Jeno!” you suddenly stopped, startling the boy as you grabbed his shoulders and locked eyes with him. “Will you help me?” Your gaze was full of hope, but Jeno averted his eyes, sighing.

“Why is it always me...” he muttered in defeat.

You squealed, throwing your arms around his neck. Instinctively, he wrapped his arms around your waist, silently agreeing to assist you. For a fleeting moment, Jeno thought he heard the faint click of a camera shutter, but he dismissed it.

Later that day, you were getting ready to visit Arin’s house. You needed to explain everything to her. After Joy, she was your closest friend. Following your conversation with Jeno and the partial formulation of your plan, you felt a glimmer of hope. Jeno would gather evidence against Minhyuk, you would hold a press conference to clear your name, and everything would fall into place. You’d prove your innocence to everyone—including your parents, though you hardly cared about their opinion—and finally, this ordeal would end.

Or so you thought, until the intercom buzzed.

Picking up the receiver, you heard the doorman’s voice. “Miss Kim, the young man from yesterday is here again. Shall I let him up?” You immediately agreed, knowing the only “young man” from yesterday was Jeno. Placing the receiver back down, you headed to the living room. A few moments later, a knock sounded at the door. Opening it, you found Jeno, looking flustered and out of breath.

“Oh no, what happened?” you asked, equal parts concerned and irritated.

“Have you seen the news?” he asked, pulling his phone from his pocket and scrolling to find what he wanted to show you.

“No, I don’t use social media, and I turned off my phone after leaving my parents’ house,” you admitted, your tone laced with anxiety. You rushed to retrieve your phone from the apartment.

When the screen lit up, it displayed a barrage of missed calls and messages—from your mother, father, Joy, Jungwoo, Jisung, Changbin, Arin, Minhyuk, and... Renjun? Ignoring the others, you opened Renjun’s chat, the crease between your brows deepening.

“You never told me you knew Jeno... or that you were with him after that day. I just hope your ex-fiancé isn’t right about you. If he is... I’ll hate myself for helping a traitor, especially with one of my best friends. What a mess...”

It was clear he was upset. Not that he had any right to meddle in your life, but still, you had considered him a friend. Didn’t he feel the same? And what was he even talking about?

Swallowing hard, you turned to Jeno, who sighed and handed you his phone.

“It seems the heiress of the Kim Group—the cosmetics giant—was indeed having an affair during her engagement to Minhyuk Lee. And the alleged lover? None other than Jeno Lee, the former heir to another enormous brand—”

You stopped reading. Your head throbbed. You couldn’t believe this was happening. The barrage of calls and messages from your parents and Minhyuk already worried you, but now, knowing the potential cause, you were furious. You hadn’t even realized the article was from yesterday, shortly after you had hugged Jeno to solidify your plan.

“I knew I shouldn’t have ignored that sound…” Jeno muttered, running a hand down his face in frustration. “Even my parents called me. My parents, who haven’t spoken to me since I gave up the inheritance,” he added bitterly. “And they congratulated me...” He continued ranting, oblivious to your simmering rage.

All you could feel was hatred. The world around you blurred, and Jeno’s words became distant noise. Nothing mattered except resolving this mess. You weren’t going to wait any longer. If Minhyuk wanted a showdown, you’d give him one.

“Forget the plan. Forget everything. I’ll handle this myself,” you declared, your voice trembling with anger. You didn’t even bother finishing your makeup or applying perfume. Instead, you grabbed your bag and keys, storming out, with Jeno scrambling to keep up.

“What are you planning to do? Hey, slow down!” he called, squeezing into the elevator beside you.

“I’m going straight to Minhyuk. If his goal was to infuriate me, congratulations to him—he succeeded. I’m not going to let him destroy what’s left of my reputation. One question, Jeno—do you have your car?” He nods hesitantly, swallowing hard. As the elevator doors open, you stride into the parking lot with determined, forceful steps, not even knowing which car belongs to Jeno.

“Over here,” he calls from the opposite direction. “God… please don’t let this woman make me crash my car…” he mutters under his breath, eyes closed, opening the passenger door for you.

At the bridal shop where Renjun worked, his melancholic mood was impossible to miss, even for Hyunjin, his coworker and friend. Renjun had been so out of sorts that he couldn’t even tend to customers properly and was relegated to handling the cash register.

“All right, what’s going on?” Hyunjin asked directly, taking advantage of the quiet lull in the shop, where it was just the two of them for the moment.

“Nothing.” Renjun kept his response short, still scribbling idly in his sketchbook. Hyunjin let out an incredulous laugh and snatched the notebook from his hands.

“Listen here, Huang Renjun. Your sulking is dragging down your energy and the whole vibe of the shop. You’re supposed to be the charming designer who makes brides feel excited about their special day, but instead, you’re spreading your dark cloud of misery everywhere.” He wagged a finger in mock reprimand, while Renjun pouted in annoyance. “Look at this!” Hyunjin gestured dramatically at the small flower pot on the counter. “Even the flowers are wilting!”

“It’s just a bad day, Hyunjin. Leave me alone,” Renjun muttered, stretching his hand out to retrieve the sketchbook, but Hyunjin held it out of reach.

“Give it back, Hyunjin.”

“Nope,” Hyunjin replied smugly, tilting his head as he kept the notebook away.

Just as Renjun moved to chase after his friend, the door to the shop opened. He froze in surprise as Mark and Jaemin walked in, both holding coffee cups.

“What are you two doing here?” Renjun asked, perplexed.

“We were nearby and decided to check on you,” Jaemin explained, handing an extra coffee to Renjun, while Mark offered his to Hyunjin.

“You guys really need to stop treating me like some kid who needs constant babysitting,” Renjun grumbled as he sipped his drink.

“So, you’re not upset about the news involving her?” Mark asked, raising an eyebrow. Hyunjin’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

“Ooh, who’s ‘her’?” he teased, earning a deadly glare from Renjun as he snatched his notebook back. “Rude,” Hyunjin muttered.

“She’s Renjun’s girlfriend,” Jaemin announced with a grin, making Renjun’s face flush instantly.

“You never told me you had a girlfriend!” Hyunjin gasped in mock offense.

“She’s not my girlfriend! She’s just a friend—I’ve told you a thousand times,” Renjun snapped, clearly irritated, not just with their intrusion into his workplace but with the reminder of the tabloid article showing you and Jeno hugging. That photo. The way Jeno’s hands rested on your waist. Almost as if he were holding you in a way that was… intimate. Just thinking about it made Renjun’s blood boil. And the worst part? He didn’t even know why.

“Renjun,” Mark began, “you got upset when you saw her with Jeno. You were down when she left your house.”

“And, out of twenty thoughts you have a day, twenty of them are about her,” Jaemin chimed in. “You think we didn’t notice how soft and caring you were with her? Just admit it—love at first sight is real, and you miss her because you like her.”

Renjun blinked, the words hitting him harder than he expected, but he shook his head. “I refuse to take relationship advice from either of you… or Haechan.” He sighed, grabbing his coffee and notebook as he stood. “Hyunjin, take over the register—I’m taking my lunch break.”

“Hey! Of all of us, I had the longest relationship!” Jaemin shouted after him.

“That doesn’t count if she was crazy!” Renjun retorted. “And I’ve said it before—you two have the most messed-up love lives of all seven of us.”

Jaemin turned to Mark and Hyunjin, offended. “Did you hear that? I don’t have a messed-up love life…”

“Oh sure,” Mark smirked. “Breaking up with your girlfriend so you could date her best friend? Totally healthy.”

“I broke up with her,” Jaemin said as if it were obvious. “Better than cheating—I still have my principles!”

“Sure, Jaemin. We’ll revisit this tomorrow.” Mark sighed, turning to leave.

“And no one’s going to tell me about Renjun’s girl?” Hyunjin complained.

Mark and Jaemin exchanged a glance and grinned.

“Mind your own business, Hyunjin,” Mark said, walking out.

“A man with too much time on his hands…” Jaemin muttered, chuckling as Hyunjin’s grumbled curses followed them out.

After navigating Jeno’s car with hurried directions and nearly causing a crash, you both arrived at your family’s company. Predictably, Minhyuk was with Hajoon.

The guards blocked you at the entrance.

“Excuse me?” you asked, incredulous.

“Apologies, ma’am. We have explicit orders not to let you in,” one of them said firmly.

Jeno placed a hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, we should leave.”

You shook him off. “If you don’t let me in, I’ll cause a scene that’ll cost both of you your jobs. I may be disinherited, but my mother—who owns half of this company—would love to hear about this.”

The guards hesitated, fear flashing in their eyes, but they held their ground. Just as you inhaled to raise your voice, a familiar voice cut in.

“Stop this nonsense. Let them through.”

Amy—your father’s assistant—had always been kind. Like your mother, she never bought into Minhyuk’s lies.

“But, ma’am—” one guard began, but she silenced him.

“Do as I said. Mr. Kim is expecting them.”

As the guards stepped aside, you hurried to Amy’s side.

“You’re here for Minhyuk, aren’t you?” she asked as you moved toward the elevator.

“‘Here for’ is putting it lightly,” you muttered.

“She’s joking,” Jeno cut in quickly. “No hitting anyone today.”

Amy chuckled. “A good choice in company,” she teased, making both of you flush.

“We’re just—”

“Friends,” you both said simultaneously.

Ah, young love, Amy thought, smiling knowingly.

The silence between you was almost deafening, broken only by the soft background music that played in the room. As soon as the doors opened, Amy spoke up, her eyes wide with disbelief.

“He’s in your brother’s old office.”

“What?” Your frustration with Minhyuk had already been simmering from everything happening in your life, but now… your anger extended to your father as well.

“After your brother stepped down, he gave the office to... him. I’m sorry…” Amy trailed off. You didn’t respond, simply reached into your bag for your phone and marched straight toward the office.

Throwing the doors open with force, you startled Minhyuk, causing a few papers to flutter to the ground. He was reading over some contracts.

“Are you out of your mind?” he snapped, hurriedly gathering the documents before standing up.

“No, but you must be, testing the limits of my patience like this.” You weren’t one to raise your voice or pick fights. Confrontations had never been your style—until you rebelled against your father. And if you could go head-to-head with him, dealing with someone like Minhyuk was child’s play.

“Quite the audacity, don’t you think?” Minhyuk sneered, circling his desk to approach you, but Jeno swiftly stepped in front of him. “Ah, so now you’ve got a guard dog too?” He laughed mockingly. “You barge into my office with your little lover in tow... truly lacking decorum.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. You needed a moment to process his words. The tension between Jeno and Minhyuk thickened, the air practically vibrating with animosity. Then your laughter rang out, shattering the quiet. Both men turned to you, confused.

“Do you really think slandering me will get you what you want, Minhyuk? The company? Hajoon’s share? Because, let me assure you, my mother’s portion isn’t up for grabs.” Your smile didn’t waver. “I’ve figured out your plan, ever since my mother told me you attended the family meeting about the marriage and claimed I was on board with everything. Frankly, Minhyuk…” you sighed. “But this smear campaign? I’m curious—what’s your angle? Surely you’re not trying to turn the public against me for no reason… or are you?” You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with amusement as they locked onto his. “Are you really that pathetic, trying to ruin a woman’s reputation just because she didn’t marry you?”

Jeno watched, perplexed, as you calmly dismantled Minhyuk’s facade. He didn’t fully understand your tactics, but one thing was certain—he wasn’t leaving you alone with this man. He barely knew him and wasn’t about to take chances.

“You think I’d let you walk away, all radiant and triumphant, after humiliating me like that?” Minhyuk’s voice quivered with barely controlled rage, his smirk gone. “You destroyed my career, my carefully laid plans. But if I destroy your reputation—turn everyone, even your parents, against you—I’ll get what I want. Your brother abandoned his post. You’d be disowned. It was the perfect plan. I didn’t expect you’d actually be cheating, though. Points for me—just look at who’s here.” He gestured at Jeno, who stood with arms crossed.

“Hey, jerk, keep running your mouth and I’ll make sure you end up in a hospital,” Jeno growled for the first time since entering the room. Minhyuk’s response was another derisive chuckle.

“Minhyuk,” you interrupted before the tension escalated further. A fight could wait — Jeno could send him to the hospital later if needed. “It doesn’t matter what you do. My mother controls most of the business, and guess what? She’s on my side.” You grabbed Jeno’s arm, leading him out. With a playful smirk, you blew Minhyuk a kiss. “I’d brace for a headline-worthy scandal this week!” you teased, winking before walking out.

“Care to explain?” Jeno asked as the elevator arrived.

You pulled your phone from your open bag, stopping the recording. “This, Jeno, is how I clean my name.” Your sly smile deepened as you bit your lower lip. The elevator doors closed, and you pressed the button for the ground floor. “A few months ago, I would have done nothing. I’d have waited for my mother or Jungwoo to handle it, as always.” You sighed, weariness weighing your voice. “But I’m done living like that. After this, I’m walking away. I’ll give up my inheritance, finish my degree, and leave this mess behind.” Bitterness lingered on your tongue as you spoke. The decision had barely settled in your mind, and already regret nipped at the edges of your resolve. How could you stay? How could you leave?

The car ride back was quiet until you reached for your phone, dialing Arin’s number.

“Finally, you’re alive! I had to call Joy to check if you were okay!” Her voice was a mix of relief and irritation, and you couldn’t blame her.

“Sorry, Arin. Everything exploded after the wedding. I’ve barely talked to anyone—just family, and now Minhyuk…” You rolled your eyes at the mention of his name.

“I saw his press conference online. What a psycho. Good thing you escaped. When I see him, though, I swear—”

You cut her off with a laugh. “I’m fine now. More than fine. But I called for a reason. I have an audio clip I need you to release. An article would be better, but a leak will do. Just make sure it hits the internet.” You sent her the file. “It’ll need some editing.”

Arin, a dedicated journalist for a respected firm, specialized in professional reporting. She’d climbed the ranks with sheer determination, earning her own column. Still, bending the rules for a friend didn’t hurt, right?

You heard her sharp intake of breath before she spoke again. “I can’t believe that scumbag.”

“And he won’t get away with it. Can you release it by the end of the week?” You knew it was a lot to ask—she was busy, and this wasn’t exactly her beat—but desperation called for boldness.

“Girl, I’ll get it out today!” The sound of furious typing reached your ears, filling you with hope. “I’m on it. But don’t think you’re getting away—I want the whole story later!” She hung up before you could even say goodbye. Honestly, how wasn’t she working for a gossip column?

Jeno glanced at your radiant smile. “I take it things went well?”

“They did,” you said, satisfaction lacing your voice as the car sped down the road.

"Yes! Arin is my friend, a journalist. She’s going to publish the audio along with a story. She said it might be out by today." Your enthusiasm was contagious.

"So, in the end, you didn’t even need me." He murmured playfully, feigning offense. His light-heartedness made you laugh as you squeezed his shoulder in gratitude.

"Oh, stop it. You were a huge help. If it weren’t for you, I might not have seen the article. And how else would I have confronted that weasel?" You smiled warmly at him, your eyes full of sincerity.

Night had fallen, bringing with it a weight of worry for Renjun. You hadn’t answered his messages, which was understandable given the accusations he had thrown at you—but Jeno wasn’t responding either. None of the guys, for that matter, and that only heightened his concern. The last update they had about Jeno was from that disastrous article, and it wasn’t like him to simply vanish.

A knock on the door made Renjun’s heart leap with hope, silently praying it was his friend. But nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

"I… came to return your clothes…" you murmured, lifting the bag. "And… maybe talk." You sounded far more timid than usual.

Renjun’s eyes didn’t leave you. Your style perfectly suited your figure, matching your personality in ways that had always mesmerized him. A smile tugged at his lips, and he stepped aside to invite you in.

"Look, I was a jerk in that message. I want to apologize." He closed the door behind you, his words rushed with guilt. "I didn’t mean to offend you like that. I was just… frustrated. I don’t even know why..."

You set the bag on a nearby shelf and approached him, a gentle smile on your face.

"I think I know why..." Your hand cupped his cheek in a soft, tender touch filled with warmth. "But… let me show you something first."

Reaching into your bag, you retrieved your phone, unlocked it, and turned it toward him.

It was Arin’s article. Published barely an hour ago, it was already going viral. Of course, your name, Jeno’s, and Minhyuk’s were at the heart of the buzz. Your lips curved into a proud smile—not just for yourself, but for your friend, who had pulled off this exposé in record time.

"See? He was lying. I’m not a traitor. I never even met Jeno before that day here."

Renjun’s gaze shifted from the screen to meet your eyes.

"I needed to show you, I—"

You were cut off as he pulled you into a tight embrace, his arms circling you with fierce protectiveness.

"I believe you," he murmured against your neck, his voice low and muffled. "I just got so upset because..." He pulled back, his eyes searching yours. "The thought of you with him… with anyone else, it tore me apart. And it’s crazy. I’m falling for you after only a day. I’m sorry." His voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes. "I’ve never been a romantic, but… Jaemin said something about love at first sight. And now I feel like a fool."

You cupped his face, your thumbs brushing gently over his cheekbones. Drawing closer, you rubbed your nose affectionately against his cheek.

"Jun…" you whispered, his name dripping with tenderness, making his heart swell. "Jeno talked to me, too. I think he and Jaemin might be on the same wavelength." You giggled softly, running your fingers through his soft hair. "He told me about love at first sight, too. Opened my eyes. And he said a certain someone got all pouty after I left..."

You sang the words with teasing delight as you pulled away.

Renjun watched you with wonder, his lips curling into a shy, almost bashful smile as his cheeks flushed pink. That timid grin made your heart flutter, a sigh escaping your lips.

Unable to hold back any longer, you threw your arms around him once more, drawing his delicate face toward yours and pressing your lips against his.

For a moment, he was too stunned to react, but when it finally hit him, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush together. The kiss was delicate, deliberate. Your fingers caressed the back of his neck as your lips moved in slow, perfect harmony with his. His hands slid beneath the hem of your short top, finding your bare skin. The warmth of his touch made you gasp softly.

"Jun..." you breathed his name, your voice trembling as his lips grazed your neck in slow, lingering kisses, each touch igniting a deeper burn beneath your skin. Your eyes remained shut, surrendering to the heat spreading through your body. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor you as your knees turned weak beneath the onslaught of sensation.

"Don’t make me stop... please," he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and uneven as he inhaled your intoxicating scent. You tugged at his hair, and a groan rumbled low in his throat, sending a shiver straight to your core.

"Then take me to bed... your windows aren’t covered," you teased, your voice low and dripping with playful temptation. His lips curved into a wicked smile as his teeth grazed your pulse point, making your body shudder.

Renjun didn’t wait. He guided you with unsteady steps toward the guest bedroom—his own was too far, and he wouldn’t risk losing another moment. His hands roamed freely over you, sliding your blazer from your shoulders with unrestrained hunger, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Your fingers traced the hard planes of his chest, reveling in the heat of his skin, before tugging impatiently at his shirt. He tore it off in one swift motion, baring himself to you, his gaze dark and full of desire.

You melted into the mattress beneath him as he lowered you down, his lips claiming yours again in a kiss that was raw, urgent, and unrelenting. His hand slipped beneath your skirt, gliding up your thigh with deliberate slowness, teasing you until his fingers brushed the damp heat between your legs.

"Are you sure I can?" His voice was hoarse, trembling with restraint as his eyes searched yours, wide and vulnerable, his lips swollen from your kisses. His hair fell messily across his forehead, making him heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Yes, Jun... I want you," you whispered without hesitation, your voice trembling with longing as your eyes stayed locked on his.

A soft curse fell from his lips as he slid his fingers beneath your panties, his touch finding you already slick with need. A groan of satisfaction escaped him as he felt your wetness, his fingers circling your swollen clit before slipping inside with aching precision. You gasped, arching into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he worked you with practiced care, his hand moving with a rhythm designed to unravel you.

You rocked your hips into his hand, your body begging for more. He understood—oh, he understood perfectly—and his pace quickened, thrusting his fingers deeper, curling them just right. Pleasure coiled low in your belly, sharp and consuming, as your moans filled the room, each one pushing him higher with pride and lust.

The sound of your pleasure was everything. He had never felt so intoxicated, so lost in the power of making someone fall apart for him. You were his, and he would prove it over and over again, all night if he had to—until there was nothing left but the sound of his name on your lips.

Just as your orgasm hovered at the edge, his fingers withdrew. The sudden emptiness made you whimper in frustration, your body trembling, your eyes heavy with need. Renjun grinned, wicked and full of mischief, as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. His eyes never left yours as he tasted you, his tongue swirling around his fingertips with a hum of pure pleasure.

"Perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with reverence. You were his perfect indulgence, the sweetest addiction he’d ever known.

He made quick work of your shirt and panties, his gaze darkening as he took in your bare body. Heat crept into your cheeks, a flicker of shyness in your chest, but Renjun left no room for shame. His touch worshiped you, his eyes devoured you like you were a vision made for him alone.

He knelt between your thighs, spreading them gently but firmly. A sigh escaped him—deep, reverent—as he pressed a kiss to your pubic bone, savoring the moment before lowering himself further.

Then his mouth was on you.

His tongue licked a long, slow path through your folds, tasting every inch of you as though you were the rarest, most exquisite thing he had ever had the privilege of devouring. Your breath caught, and your fingers twitched in his hair, but you were too weak to hold on.

When he sucked your clit, just hard enough, your back arched, a cry ripping from your throat as your body convulsed. His name spilled from your lips, again and again, a chant, a prayer, a plea.

Renjun was relentless. The world faded. There was no time, no thought—only him, only pleasure, only the stars bursting behind your eyes as he unraveled you completely, again and again.

Your body trembled as the pressure within you built higher, the crest of your orgasm drawing nearer with every flick and swirl of his tongue. A desperate prayer echoed in your mind—please don’t stop, not again. He seemed to hear your unspoken plea. His tongue thrust deep inside you, curling, stroking with languid, deliberate intensity that made you whimper and moan in pure abandon.

The tension shattered, a wave of release crashing over you as bliss and calmness flooded every nerve. You cried out softly, your body melting into the mattress as the world dissolved into sensation. Renjun groaned against you, his tongue savoring the sweet, sticky essence of your pleasure. His lips and tongue worked meticulously, devouring you until there wasn’t a trace left, kissing the delicate skin of your thighs like a man utterly intoxicated.

He kissed his way upward, his mouth mapping a trail of reverent worship—across your trembling stomach, the curve of your breasts, until finally capturing your lips in a kiss so deep it stole your breath. The taste of yourself on his tongue only heightened the heat between you, making the kiss more intimate, more forbidden, more perfect.

“I don’t think I can live like before now that I’ve tasted you,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

A weak, breathless giggle escaped you as you basked in the afterglow. “You’ve made me your addiction.”

He chuckled, nipping at your neck, his lips brushing over your shoulders, leaving trails of warmth in his wake.

Your hands, still trembling, rested on his chest, feeling the rapid thrum of his heartbeat. With a playful push, you rolled him beneath you, straddling him. The spark in his eyes ignited, a mixture of amusement and pure, unfiltered desire lighting his face. The sight made your heart race—Renjun, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so yours.

You let your body tease you both, dragging your sore, sensitive core slowly over the hard ridge of his clothed arousal. The friction was electric, drawing a shared, shuddering moan from your lips as his hips bucked instinctively beneath you.

“God, you’re perfect,” he groaned, his voice heavy with need as his hands gripped your hips. He held you firmly but reverently, as if you were both fragile and the only thing keeping him tethered to earth.

Every movement of your body sent shockwaves through him, yet he refused to close his eyes. He couldn’t bear to miss a single second—the sight of your flushed, glowing skin, your parted lips still swollen from his kisses, and the way you writhed above him, utterly lost in your shared pleasure.

You moved together, lost in each other, and the world beyond you ceased to exist. There was only this—only him, only you, only the endless rhythm of need and passion and love.

When your movements stilled, Renjun let out a soft, frustrated whimper, his brows furrowing in need. But as he realized what you intended, his expression shifted—desire darkened his eyes as he lifted his hips to help you strip away the last barrier between you. His pants and underwear hit the floor with a soft thud, leaving him gloriously bare before you.

Your breath caught.

Renjun lay there, his chest heaving with shallow breaths, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat that only heightened his beauty. Your gaze drifted lower, following the lines of his stomach until it settled on him—his cock, flushed and needy, the swollen tip already glistening with arousal. A bead of it pooled just above his navel, and the sight alone made your mouth water.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, part awe, part hunger.

You climbed onto the bed, your hands trembling slightly as they wrapped around his length, feeling the heat of him against your palm. He twitched at your touch, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth. Slowly, reverently, you leaned down, your tongue darting out to catch the trail of arousal that had dripped onto his skin. The taste of him sent a shiver down your spine—salty, heady, intoxicating.

You flicked your gaze upward, watching his face as you took him into your mouth. His eyes fluttered closed, his lips parting in a silent gasp. His fists clenched the sheets beneath him, his knuckles whitening as he fought to keep still when the tip of his cock brushed the back of your throat. The restraint, the tenderness, the pure, unselfish desire to never cause you harm made your heart thud wildly.

And then, unbidden, thoughts of Minhyuk crept into your mind—how selfish he had been, how little he had cared for your pleasure. The contrast was stark, almost cruel. Renjun’s passion, his overwhelming affection, his every action was a testament to how deeply he cherished you. The realization tightened your chest, and without meaning to, your eyes welled with tears.

You blinked them away quickly, grateful that he was too lost in bliss to notice.

Focusing once more, you hollowed your cheeks, your head bobbing in a steady rhythm that left him gasping. You cupped his balls, heavy and full, rolling them gently in your hand while your tongue danced along the underside of his cock. His hips twitched involuntarily, and a strangled groan escaped him.

The sounds he made—the breathless whimpers, the way he chanted your name like a prayer—were a symphony of raw, unfiltered need.

You felt him pulse against your tongue, the telltale quiver of impending release. With a final swirl around his sensitive head, you sucked him deep, teasing the slit with your tongue. His body went taut, and a shuddered cry of your name tore from his lips as he spilled into your mouth. The heat, the salty rush of him filled you, and you swallowed without hesitation, relishing how he writhed beneath you.

As his orgasm ebbed, his eyes found yours. He chuckled softly, watching the little grimace that flitted across your face at the bitter taste.

“Cute,” he murmured, his voice still thick with pleasure.

His hand reached for you, and you crawled into his embrace, straddling him once more. The heat between your bodies lingered, and as he pulled you down into a slow, searing kiss, there was no room for anything but him. His passion consumed you, and you gave yourself to it completely.

"Are you tired?" you whispered, your fingers brushing gently over his cheek as he pressed soft kisses to your knuckles, his lips lingering like a lover’s vow.

"Not even close, love," he murmured, a slow, teasing smile curving his mouth. His eyes glimmered with warmth, and you felt your heart race as he drew you in deeper. "We have all night… I’m definitely not worried."

His words, low and sultry, sent a spark of heat through you, and a soft laugh bubbled from your lips just as he rolled you beneath him. His body hovered over yours, his presence surrounding you, intoxicating and irresistible.

Then his lips found yours again—hungry, tender, and overwhelming. The kiss was more than a touch; it was a confession, an unspoken declaration of love and need. Your tongues tangled, a slow and fevered dance that left you breathless, your desire simmering like wildfire between you. His hands roamed your body as though committing every inch to memory, and with every stroke of his lips, every caress, you melted further into the sheer ecstasy of him.

did you enjoy your reading? why don’t reblog, like or leave a comment? this way i know you liked what i wrote and surely will keep up with the good content! 𖹭 masterlist | series masterlist

🏷 @jungaji @spacejip @lyvhie @sinisxtea @jirsungs @polarisjisung @chenlezip @ayukas @leleszn @mystverse @prologue-ae @lovesuhng @haechanahceah67 @jeonghansshitester @hyusun @ncthoe69 @dawntyun @snowyseungs @bunnysoonie @aracgio @rubiiisyeon @t-102 @yesohhsehun @lovesuhng @kookssecret @richachaslide @nanawrlds @imlonelydontsendhelp @taeflwr @peanutbutterjam505 @heavenjae @lillotus @lotushoto

[voidsuites]

MULTI BOT RELEASE !!! (1/31/25) ⌢ ✨ .ᐟ

art donaldson ・゜゜・．noid. tennis has given art everything anyone could ever want— a fulfilling career, you and lily, and countless influential titles and wins— and with him getting closer to becoming a household name, art’s more than aware of his luck. he’s beyond grateful. however, fame’s a double-edged sword and it’s getting harder to both play into the paparazzi and their mind-games and also protect his family, so it’s not a surprise that art loses his temper when those lines finally get crossed. (based off “noid” by tyler the creator!)

bruce wayne・゜゜・．billie bossa nova. underneath all the sneaking around hotel rooms and charity galas, both you and bruce long to be understood for more than just your family names and your money. whatever’s going on between the two of you is merely putting a band-aid on a niger issue, you’re aware, but there’s something about bruce that helps you rationalize the less-than-ideal circumstances. a lot can change in twenty seconds… a lot can happen in the dark. (based off “billie bossa nova” by billie eilish!)

jim hopper ・゜゜・．you’re a fighter. in one moment, all hop had to worry about was you slowly growing more independent and mike wheeler’s insufferable attitude, but now the mind flayer’s set its sights on you and you’ve seemingly lost your powers. setting the mess with the russians beneath starcourt mall aside, hopper’s main priority is making sure you’re safe and away from any more danger. you may be a fighter, but you’re his kid first. (based off “you’re a fighter” by kyle dixon and michael stein!)

joel miller ・゜゜・．western nights. joel knows you’re not supportive of the violent ways he provides for you, but in a post-apocalyptic world morals are put on the back burner while he concerns himself with keeping you both fed, housed, and taken care of. you’re stubborn, he’s stubborn, but you’d never think of taking off and leaving him behind. this time’s no different. (based off “western nights” by ethel cain!)

patrick zweig ・゜゜・．part of your world. mermaids were nothing but a mere children's bedtime story— they weren't real. that’s what patrick’s father had told him since he'd been a boy; that the wondrous creatures he believed in with all his heart were nothing but tall tales meant to put the children of new rochelle to bed with little fight. that’s proven to be false when you rescue him from swimming with the fishes for eternity, and now that he knows your kind is real, patrick just has to learn more. he’ll bring you as many human trinkets for your collection as you’d like if you’d let him be part of your world for a moment. (based off “part of your world” by jodi benson and disney!)

tashi duncan ・゜゜・．bodyguard. wlw. tashi’s always been protective of you since you started seeing each other, but it’s always amusing to see just how worked-up she gets when you’re the center of attention. stanford’s hosting a concert in the park, art and patrick are nowhere to be found, and tashi’s left to keep herself in control lest she “accidentally” scare people off because they’ve looked at you too long. she’ll protect you in the mosh pit, no doubt— but she’s still working on keeping that territorial nature of hers in check. (based off “bodyguard” by beyoncé!)

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 10.4K! so excited to get started on my celebration requests— you guys once again are the BEST!!!! i hope all of these are to your liking… but do forgive me if joel is a little too ooc lol i’ve only seen bits of tlou but i tried to capture him right. hehe. i also made a tumblr community for all things voidsuites-oriented 🤭 join yap city if you dare (i’m still figuring out what i’ll post on there but think of it as a communal close friends story on ig haha) anyways i love these characters and i love these songs and i love you all!!!! thank you for making this so much fun for me i’m so grateful <3

[alastxrs]

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?

Gojo Satoru X Male!Reader

Gojo Satoru, the King of Ithica had been away from his home for twenty long years. Until finally, he arrived home and his first thought is his family after...(EPIC THE MUSICAL AU)

Twenty Years.

Twenty long years for him to return to Ithica only to see unwanted guests planning to hurt his son and his husband.

Satoru Gojo made examples out of them.

Nobody was going to get away with plotting to kill and hurt his family. He had been gone for so long, there was no doubt they had been planning to hurt his family for so many years.

They wouldn't dare anymore now that he was back.

"Father?"

"Son..."

The white-haired man slowly turned around to see his son, Yuji standing before him.

His son.

Yuji was grown now and stood proud before him, a small smile formed on his lips as he took in his son. He missed his whole life but he wouldn't miss anymore now.

"My son, I'm finally home!"

Home, home....

Satoru managed to have his arms out before his son almost tackled him into a hug, this moment meant the world to the two of them.

The young man couldn't believe that he was with his father at long last. "Father, how I've longed to see you!"

Home, home....

This moment could go on for hours and they had all the time in the world to catch up yet it was time for him to see his beloved.

He pulled away from the younger man as a soft smile filled their faces. "Go, tell your dad I'm home, I'll be there in a moment of course.." The pink-haired man nodded as he pulled away from his father before he went to tell Y/N that his husband was home.

The man quickly fixed his hair because he wanted to make himself look SOMEWHAT nice for his beloved husband.

Make his hair look decent at least.

Shit, he had blood on his hands.

He was finally home.

His time on that dreadful island with that dreadful God was something he would be glad to forget about.

"Father? He's waiting for you."

Satoru turned to his son before he walked past him to their bedroom door, he took a deep sigh. "Y/N..." he muttered before he opened the doors to see his beloved husband.

There, stood the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on.

His (E/C) eyes stared at him with disbelief that his husband was home. "Is it you? Have my prayers been answered?" He spoke softly as he approached Satoru slowly. "Is it really you standing there, or am I dreaming once more?"

"You look different," His lover tilted his head as he looked at him up and down. "Your eyes look tired..."

A small frown on his beautiful partner's lips as he looked at his appearance. "Your frame is lighter...." His eyes went to his lips. "...Your smile torn.."

"Is it really you, my love?"

The white-haired male sighed in relief when he felt the gentle touch of his lover's hand on his cheek, Y/N's touch always relaxed him. "I am not the man you fell in love with..." he responded, he placed his own hand on top of Y/N's hand. "....I am not the man you once adored."

The two knew what he was saying was a lie but it is what he thought.

"I am not your kind and gentle husband.." Satoru said as he pulled back slowly from the touch as he backed up. "And I am not the love you knew before.

Their eyes never looked away from his each other.

"Would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done?" He asked his lover with a pained expression on his face. "The things I cannot change, would you love me all the same? I know that you've been waiting, waiting for love."

The (H/C) haired male was quiet for a moment before he asked. "What kind of things did you do?" Satoru looked down as he looked at his own hands.

"Left a trail of red on every island as I traded friends like objects I could use..." He answered before he looked back at him. "hurt more lives than I can count on my hands but all of that was to bring me back to you!"

"So tell me, would you fall in love with me again if you knew all I've done?" He asked again. "The things I can't undo, I am not the man you knew! I know that you've been waiting, waiting..."

Y/N didn't believe what his lover was telling him, he was a man of Sparta.

He sighed as he kept a hand to his chest. "If that's true, could you do me a favor?" The (H/C) haired male kept his eyes on him, afraid if he looked away that his husband would disappear again. "Just a moment of labor that would bring me some peace."

The taller male nodded his head. "Of course!"

Y/N gestured over to their bed. "See that wedding bed? Could you carry it over?" he asked, he knew this was impossible for any man to do. "Lift it high on your shoulders and take it far away from here."

"....How could you say this?"

The feeling in the white-haired males chest ached with pain at the mere thought of his husband wanting him to remove their wedding bed. "I had built that wedding bed with my blood and sweat, carved it into the olive tree where we first met!" He made his way over to their bed though as he looked at it with a pained expression. "A symbol of our love everlasting..."

He turned his head over to the smaller male. "Do you realize what you have asked?" he asked his partner. "The only way to move it is to cut it from it's roots!"

"Only my husband knew that, so I guess that makes it you!"

A surprised expression formed on his face as he stared at the other man.

"Y/n..."

A serious expression laid on his beautiful face as he glared a Satoru. "I will fall in love with you over and over again!" he stated as he pointed to him. "I don't care how, where, or when! No matter how long it's been, your mine!"

"Don't tell me you're not the same person." Y/N's fist clenched into first as he stepped closer to the other man. "You're always my husband and I've been waiting, waiting..."

Y/N, waiting, waiting (Y/N)

WAITING, WAITING

"Waiting, oh!" Y/N gently caressed his cheek as he looked at his husband with a small smile on his face. "For.....you-"

The two men leaned forward as their lips pressed against each other.

The two stayed pressed against one another as they let their emotions take over, it was perfect after so long the two had been apart.

Clothes started getting removed as the two moved on top of their bed, the (H/C) haired male pinned his husband against the bed as their clothes disappeared onto the floor.

They didn't know how long they had been in bed for yet the two men wanted to be with each other, they were definitely going to be attached to the hip.

The lovers were happy to finally lay in bed together once again.

After a while, the two laid in bed and Satoru buried his face in his neck as they stayed quiet for a few more minutes just to bask in each other's warmth.

"How long has it been?"

"Twenty years..."

Y/N and Satoru looked at each other again with a soft expression resting on their tired faces.

"I love you." Both men whispered as they kissed again.

EXTRA CONTENT

"How dare you think I wouldn't love you!!" Y/N lectured his husband as he scoffed while drying the white-haired males hair, the two had finished taking a bath (and having anothter steamy session). "I'm a man of Sparta, did you forget that?! I swear being off at sea for twenty years has made you stupid."

Satoru chuckled as he smiled while his lover took care of him, the (H/C) haired male had been gentle with every scar he had.

"I'm sorry it's been years! I thought you wouldn't like-"

"I don't care what you thought!! Hearing you slaughter all those men was attractive, I thought it was attractive!! Not disgusting!!"

Y/N muttered something under his breathe about how he had an idiot for a husband.

"Your humor has gotten worse hasn't it..."

"I have so much jokes to tell! I need to catch up!"

The smaller male sighed with an irritated expression. "You are lucky I am madly in love with you or I swear, you would be joining those suitors at the bottom of the sea."

Satoru smiled brightly as the other man leaned down to kiss him.

It was good to be back.

[jqmalikhsgib]

multiverse

one

note: this idea just came to be at 2:30 am so here i am writing another aaron hotchner fic. wtf am i doing?!?!

derek was the first to notice the girl. she looked no older than sixteen. she had beautiful curly dark hair, she stood about five seven, she was wearing blue jeans and what seems to be some kind of band t-shirt. she looked around confused. derek tapped emily on the shoulder and pointed.

she looked equally confused before the girl noticed and begins to walk towards them.

“excuse me, is there an aaron hotchner here?”

suddenly she had emily, derek’s, jj, and spencer’s attention. “uh—he’s upstairs.” spencer states. she thanked them quickly before walking over to where spencer pointed.

they knew she couldn’t have ben a danger considering that she got past security. they still had no idea who she was or what she wanted with their stoic boss. the curious and nosy co workers just stared as she knocks on hotch’ door before opening it.

aaron looks up from his paper work expecting one of the members of his team. instead he was shocked to see a teenage girl. aaron stares at her confused. she immediately picks up a picture of his family.

“excuse me. who are you?”

when she doesn’t answer aaron begins to get a tad bit frustrated. who was the girl and what was she doing in his office? what was she doing in this building? how did she get in? when she begins to open up her backpack he instantly got nervous.

his instantly put his hand on his gun before she pulled out a picture. she hands it to him and he was even more confused.

his heart starts to skip a beat as he looks at a photo of him and the woman he loved years ago. the one he left to be with haley.

aaron thought he was making the right decision at the time. haley was his high school sweetheart. they had decided to split up when they went off to two different colleges. that’s when aaron met her.

she was beautiful. everything about her was perfect. her smile, her laugh, her hair, her beauty. she made aaron feel free. something he had never felt before in his life.

they dated for two beautiful years. but when he visited home, ran into haley, he couldn’t help but feel like she was the one. all those memories they shared. haley was his first love. he had to give her a chance. they decided to do long distance. when aaron went back to university he broke the news to her. she was devastated.

she cursed him out, yelled, screamed, cried, and suddenly she just disappeared. it was a big school but they were both law students. they would always run into each other. he ran into one of her friends and all she told him was she transferred. that was the last time he saw her.

“sixteen years ago you and a woman named yn yln were dating. she ended up leaving the university you attended together because you broke her heart.”

aaron just stares at the girl before she continues. “she was very angry at you for so many reasons. but the main one was because she had huge news to tell you the night she came back. she never got the opportunity to tell you. that woman there was pregnant with your child. i am that child.”

aaron eyes widened. he shakes his head in disbelief before the girl pulls out a photo of the woman in question, pregnant and glowing.

she also pulls out a big orange envelope. aaron looks at her before opening it. sure enough it was proof that aaron hotchner was a match.

“how did you—”

“get your dna sample? ive been kinda following you for a bit. you um—i saw you and your wife and son at an ice cream parlor where you threw away a water bottle. i took it and—well you know.”

aaron clears his throat. “does your mom know you’re here?”

“she doesn’t know ive been looking for you. i just—ive been wanting to know who my dad was for the longest. my mom would tell me she doesn’t know much about him all my life. but knowing who my mom is, i doubt she’d have many partners to the point of not knowing. one night, when she was away, i snooped into her room, found an old shoe box, and saw multiple photos of you and her. i also found an old necklace with the initials ‘ah.’ on them and this photo in particular that has your full name on the back.”

aaron turns the photo over. there it was. ‘aaron hotchner. forevermore.’

“im sorry to be—i guess ruining your life. i know you have a family of your own. your wife is pretty. i just—i had to know who you are. ive been wondering my whole life.”

“no. it’s—it’s okay. listen, why don’t we go out? there is a sandwich shop across the street from here.”

“i probably shouldn’t—”

“you came all the way down here to meet me. hiding by the bus pass i saw on the side of your backpack, you probably don’t live anywhere near the city.”

the girl hums. “took me four bus rides just to get here.”

“then it’s the least i could do. i just—i need to make a stop somewhere first. you can wait right here.”

she hums before sitting down in one of his chairs. aaron leaves his office and walks towards penelope’s.

“oh, sir. hi.”

“can you give me a phone number, please?”

“sure. may i ask who for?”

“a yn yln.” he gives her a bit of information on her before penelope begins typing before finding her quickly. aaron thanks her before dialing her number.

“who is this?! please tell me its an update on my daughter?! oh god?”

“ma’am, calm down.”

“no offense officer but please do not tell me to calm down. my child is missing!”

“he’s right you know? you should calm down. it’s not good to stress in these situations.”

aaron heard exactly how he sounded. he regretted saying those words instantly.

“aaron?”

“yeah. i—she’s here. she came down this way to meet me.”

he hears her sigh in relief. “thank god. im—im on my way!”

aaron hears his phone beep. he immediately text her the address on where to meet them before he walks back into his office and spots his teenage daughter. he still couldn’t believe it. he was a dad to a teenager. aaron was just starting to get use to be a dad to a preteen. now he had a teenager on his hands.

he had no idea how to tell jack. he didn’t know what to tell haley. sure they’d ben divorce for a long time but, it was still something he had to discuss with her.

and beth. he didn’t want to think about any of that. right now he wanted to take the daughter he hadn’t known about just twenty minutes ago, out to lunch.

“you ready?”

she nods her head as she grabs her backpack. aaron walks right behind her. as they got in the elevator he noticed his team giving him a confused look. he shakes his head to himself before the elevator doors closed.

when they arrived at the sandwich shop and ordered their food, aaron couldn’t help but stare. she looked like a perfect combination of him and yn. she had his brown eyes but yn smile, she had his hair color but it was as curly as her moms, she had his nose but her ears. she was beautiful.

he suddenly realized he didn’t know her name. kicking himself he finally asked.

“it’s jules. juliet technically. or juju. whatever’s fine.”

juliet. that was what he always wanted to name his daughter if he had one. he couldn’t believe yn decided to give her a piece of him. after all he put her through.

“so, aaron. what’s your deal?”

aaron eyes furrowed. “my deal?”

jules nods her head. “yeah. i read that you use to be this badass prosecutors. you made people cry on a daily. suddenly you just decided to change careers. and im assuming the fbi doesn’t pay you half as much as a law firm. why the sudden change of heart?”

he shrugs his shoulders. “just—felt like i could do more. maybe save some lives, you know? always felt like i was too late by the time the cases reached my desk.”

“makes sense. mom feels the same. but she puts her energy and making sure the evil, sadistic, psychopath gets locked away for the rest of their lives.”

he smirks. it sounded exactly like yn. he remembers her being equally as ruthless back in college. before everything changed.

suddenly the father/daughter duo feels a presence. they turn and see yn walking over. jules gets up nervously as her mother hugs her tightly.

when she pulls away she glares at jules. “do not do that again?! i nearly had a heart attack when the principal said you left and never returned.”

“im sorry, mom. i just—i had to meet him.” jules pointed to aaron.

yn looks over and sees the man who her daughter resembled. she never thought she’d see his face again. after leaving she swore she wouldn’t allow this man to hurt her or her child for as long as she lived.

“go wait in the car. we’ll discuss this when we get home.”

jules hesitated before she runs off when her mother gives her the infamous stern look. yn turns to aaron and shakes her head.

“i apologize for her bombarding you. thanks for feeding her lunch.” yn opens her purse and pulls out her wallet. she hands him cash before he shakes his head.

“it’s the least i could do. you don’t owe me a thing. i do however want to talk.”

“what is there to talk about mister hotchner?”

aaron winced. he wasn’t expecting her to address him by his last name. “jules.”

“it’s juliet.”

“right, juliet.”

“we don’t need to do this. we can pretend this never happened and you could go back to whatever it is you do and i can take care of my daughter.”

“yn—”

“we were fine for sixteen years without you. we’ll be fine again. i don’t need nor do i want your help, aaron.” yn glares at him.

aaron was trying to stay calm and be rational. he knew he’d hurt her but this was different. she hide a child from him for sixteen years. that’s sixteen years of not getting to know his daughter. not witnessing her birth, her crying at an ungodly hour, feeding her, her crawling or walking for the first time, her first words, her first tooth, her first christmas. sixteen years of not being there for his child. aaron missed all the major zones in his child’s life. it was taken from him and he felt many emotions. mostly anger.

aaron glares at her. “i don’t think that’s for you to decide anymore. you took away my daughter, yn. you robbed me of a chance in being her father.”

yn laughs comically. “you cheated on me, aaron! you promised me that you were over her. you swore that i was the girl for you before you left and came back to tell me you fucked your ex girlfriend and you wanted to be with her instead. i wanted nothing but to tell you i was pregnant with our child. that opportunity got ripped away from me when i found out i was just some token trophy you bragged about to all your friends!”

aaron frowns at her. he didn’t know what she was getting at but he didn’t want to argue in front of customers at a sandwich shop.

“could we please discuss this somewhere more private?”

yn shakes her head. “i think we’re done here. don’t contact me, please? goodbye aaron.” yn walks away quickly. aaron sets money down on the table before following her outside. she hops in her car quickly before driving off. aaron watches as the woman he never stopped loving disappeared again. this time will a child he finally knew about. his child.

when you get home you immediately tell jules she’s grounded. she shakes her head before storming into her room. you didn’t want deal with anymore drama tonight.

instead you grabbed a glass, poured you some wine, and plopped down on your couch. you sigh as you think about everything that led you here.

you were still very livid with how things turned out. you were upset that aaron used you. you still felt disgusted today. how could he pretend that he was innocent? you’re adults now. you’re forty-six and you have no time for games.

your main priority was jules. she deserves all the love in the world. you weren’t gonna let her heart be broken like yours was sixteen years ago. jules didn’t deserve that.

you sigh when you suddenly hear her footsteps. you turned to see your daughter looking directly at you.

“just because you don’t like him—for whatever reason—doesn’t mean you have to punish me. i deserve to know who my father is.”

“jules—”

“since i was little you’ve been honest with me, mom. the only time you’ve hidden something from me was with my father. i finally found him and i want to know more about him and where i come from.”

you sigh deeply. you gesture for your daughter to come sit beside you. when she does you wrap your arms around her as she leans into your shoulders.

you’ve always had a great relationship with your daughter. she’d been your rock the moment you gave birth to her. you promised yourself you’d have a better relationship with her than you did with your own mother. you never wanted to disappoint her like your mother disappointed you.

“im sorry ive been hiding your dad from you. it wasn’t—isn’t right that you don’t know your father. i guess i was protecting myself and being totally selfish when it comes to you.”

“why did you hide him for so long?”

you weren’t gonna tell her the story. she didn’t need to know. you simply shake your head and shrugged. “he just—he broke my heart a long time ago and i guess i didn’t want him to do the same to you, baby. im sorry.”

“i want to at least get to know him, mom. he’s my dad.” she whispers.

you kissed the top of her head before nodding. “okay, baby. let me talk to him first. discuss everything and then we can probably meet him, yeah? this time without you stalking him and skipping school.”

jules nods her head. you kissed the top of it once more before she runs upstairs to her room. you sigh as you grab your phone and call aaron.

“hello?”

“we need to talk. meet me at that sandwich shop tomorrow afternoon!”

“yeah. sure.”

“goodbye, aaron.”

“good—”

you ended the call before he could finish. you just wanted to get this over with.

[thebestjjenthusiast]

carolina’s children

introducing:

the band

❛ ah yes, mike. the band’s lead singer, a raging narcissist- since he’s fully aware of his good appearance. his voice is average to good, but no one minds since our choice of songs are not too challenging. would really help if he decided to value mine and the band’s time and not think that the audience was there only to see him. ❜

❛ pope! our beloved bassist. a friend of mine that magically agreed to join my band idea. he’s really great on the bass, when we cover a song youll never catch him making a mistake. just like in our friend group, where he’s the brain of it, he’s the brain of the band. he knows when and where we need to perform, how to open the gig and all that stuff. he really is a variable of the band. ❜

❛ our talented drummer, chris. we couldn’t have done it without him, of course, but it feels like hes just not into this anymore. maybe he feels like his punk rock-edgy style isn’t compatible with ours, or maybe he thinks he’s wasting his potential on us. maybe his love for music has faded away, but that’s something i highly doubt. ❜

❛ and last but not least, me. the band’s founder and establisher, also known as the guitarist. my bandmates know better than to piss me off when it comes to band matters. i am always the one to suggest songs to play, encourage my bandmates to practice and come to practice and give a speech whenever we have to. ❜

❛ and that pretty much sums up each member of our little group. now, if you combine all four of us, what you get is pretty much a mess. but not in a bad way- mess is necessary. mess means creativity, mess means a lot of different ideas and personalities colliding with each other and forming in the end, something beautiful. mess is balance, and when the balance is uneven, then things start going south. ❜

the friends

a friendly shout out to our supporters, our family.

a shout out to our friend, John B, who encouraged me and pope to listen to that faint voice in our heads that was whispering to us to start a band, follow our dreams.

a shout out to our friend, Kiara, who was the one to teach me how to play the guitar when i was little, and stay up with pope to help him with the bass

a shout out to our friend, Sarah, who never misses a show and is very audible screaming whenever we perform. the one who always wants to listen to our demos and is always very honest with her opinions on them.

a shout out to our friend, JJ, who hates our singer, but loves the rest of us. the one who always drives us to chris’ house to practice and the one who whistles loudly whenever we perform

a shout out to our friend, Cleo, and Pope’s girlfriend who supports me as much as she supports him. she never once has complained about our loud instruments in pope’s house, that often make her lose sleep.

and lastly, a shout out to our friend, Rafe, who was the one to buy us our instruments. he never told us a proper reason to gift them to us, and also never gave us time to thank him.

im being very sincere when i say that we couldn’t have done that without our friends being here for us and love us this warmly.

masterlist | 01

taglist: @rafeysworldim19 , @amteratsu , @bee-43

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[ellie-shy]

I get it. I understand Lucanis now. I understand him. So. Much.

I just finished his quest Inner Demons and locked into his romance. And I cried. I legit cried while doing his personal quest. Because I felt it. It felt so personal, to Lucanis, and to myself.

I'm gonna pour my heart out under the cut because Lucanis has just ranked up so high into one of my favourite fictional characters ever. And that means a lot to me.

When I played my first playthrough (and of course avoiding spoilers) I saved Minrathous. And I was devasted to see how Treviso looked in the aftermath. Then, Lucanis was hardened. I know that there will be consequences with Luc's arc but I was not sure what it will be. So, after finishing the other companions' personal quest and getting the Hero of Veilguard for everyone... except Lucanis. I really thought after defeating Illario I would get the Hero status with him, but nooooo. Only after finishing the main quest, I got it. But, I felt something was... missing. Something was missing with Luc's arc, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Thus, I finished my first playthrough.

Understandable, I did hardened Lucanis. But it got me so curious... what was it that's missing in Lucanis's personal questline?

Then I made my dear dwarven Grey Warden warrior Rook : Juliet Thorne, to romance him.

And I finally got to the Inner Demons quest, a quest that I never done before (and also tried so hard to avoid spoilers before doing it 😂).

Hold my hand while I confess this. I cried. I really cried when doing Inner Demons. This is what I was missing in my first playthrough?? Helping Lucanis escaped from his inner prison???

Inner Demons felt so personal. Like deeply personal. My Rook is actively involving herself into Lucanis's deep and personal thoughts. And you know what made me cry even more? This quest felt personal to me too.

I also understand Spite now!!! Why he wants OUT!! He didn't just want to go out in the world through Lucanis, he can't even go out of the Ossuary that Lucanis has made for himself, his own turmoil and guilt 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I get it now 😭 Oh God do I get it now (still crying btw).

Spite wanted to go out and it knows that they aren't in the Ossuary anymore, but why does Spite keep seeing the Ossuary? That is what made Spite so frustrated! Until Spite was desperate enough to ask for Rook's help because Spite knows, Rook "opens doors, never closing them" 😭 Spite knows the only way to get through Lucanis, is through Rook.

Lucanis, has made a giant wall to protect himself from everyone. Including Spite. He self-isolates, to the point of pushing Rook away. But he didn't mean it. Lucanis has a heart of gold. He is kind, he remembers my Rook's chocolate drink, he cooks for everyone, he considers Emmrich's vegetarian preferences, he buys things for the team, he isolates himself in the pantry because he doesn't want to cause trouble to anyone. He is a selfless bastard that's willing to sacrifice his happiness and comfort for everyone around him. Why? Because he thinks he doesn't deserve it. 😭 This mindset has developed after years of trauma. Years of training and torture... so he can be perfect. If he can't be perfect (which is the very high standard and expectation that he has set for himself), then he can never have happiness. At least that's what he thought. And I get it, because I have this trauma too.

This is why he punished himself so much. He was rescued by Rook and lived, but has a demon inside him. His city is saved, but at the cost of Neve's city. He made a god bleed, but didn't kill the god as per the contract. He killed Zara, his abuser, but he was devastated that Illario, his family, was involved. Every single time, everytime Lucanis thought he had a moment of victory/happiness, it will be at the cost of another he cared for. And he punished himself again, and again. Trying so hard to solve his own problems without involving anyone, and never asking for help. And that's why he pushed Rook away, he can't lose another person he cared for. Because he is such a selfless man!

I felt this, his trauma, fear and anxiety, I can relate with Lucanis. This feeling will eat you from the inside. It will make you develop a sense of self-hate, low self-esteem, not being satisfied with everything you have done and etc etc. It will drown you, literally, within your own spiral of self-hate. I cried while playing the Inner Demons quest, because it felt so personal to me too, as if I'm drowning again. But visualizing it with Lucanis this time. And hey, the Ossuary is an underwater prison. Lucanis is drowning.

And it's hard, you know. Because you will feel like no one is gonna help you other than yourself. Yet, you can't even save yourself. Lucanis couldn't save himself.

Until Rook.

The way that Lucanis just kept pushing her away, but my Rook just kept breaking down every single wall he built. Reassuring him, acknowledging him, supporting him, validating him, every step of the way. Rook didn't give up on him. Rook cares for him, so deeply. And nothing can stop her from reaching to Lucanis. Lucanis was so scared to lose Rook, or something would happen -- but Rook knows, it's gonna be okay.

I cried again because... to have someone like Rook, who willingly bring down every wall you make, carefully guiding you out of the place that's drowning you... that's special. That's very special. Rook is so special to Lucanis. Whether he was romanced or not, Rook is special. I was so happy for Lucanis, he has found someone, that will bring down his walls, that rescued him from drowning, that reassures him that he is enough. Because he is enough. And he will be okay.

This quest is so personal to me. Lucanis is a fictional character that resonates with me, so deeply. I understand him better now, because I see myself in Lucanis, and the experience he has been through are so similar with mine irl (minus being possessed ofc haha). It felt so validating, knowing that I am not alone. But don't worry about me, I'm in my own healing journey too <3 The moment I bawled my eyes out was when reading his thoughts fragments. My actual thoughts that time was "why does these thoughts sound so much like mine?".

Now I finally understand what was missing in my 1st playthrough. Knowing Lucanis, he built a wall to Rook, because he just lost his city. He has to put his guard up to Rook because he knows, no one will save him. Eventhough, in the end, he does trusts Rook, but not enough to bring his walls down. And that's valid, because I would do the same.

This is what makes his romance so meaningful and deep. He is vulnerable to a romanced Rook. He trusts Rook wholeheartedly. Literally, placing his heart on his hands and presenting it to them. Rook freed him from his inner demon (which was actually, himself), and guess what happens next? Lucanis would literally worship the ground Rook walks on. Let me tell you something, to achieve this level of trust in a relationship with someone like Lucanis, is otherworldly. I can't explain how meaningful Rook is to Lucanis. Perhaps even Rook wouldn't know how important they are to Lucanis. Only Lucanis knows how much Rook means to him. And me, the player.

Lucanis is a man that's going to treat you right. He would cook for you, he would take care of you, he would waste his time with you, he would do anything you ask. He would live for you, he would die for you, he would kill any gods you ask to keep you safe. His words and actions carry weight. Lucanis is indeed a passionate man, but his passion is only for the person that deserves it... a romanced Rook.

This is such an emotional post, but I just want to express how this short 'outing' quest means a lot to me. I won't go into detail on how much similarities I have with him. Just let me say this, I see myself in Lucanis Dellamorte, and I'm happy that I'm not alone going through the journey of healing my inner self.

Let me be hopeful, that one day, I will find my own Rook <3

[phagodyke]

wanted to go to the gym social tn but as I was getting my stuff together to go out, a friend said smth that rly pissed me off and now I'm too fucking angry to go out. fucks sake man

[blujayonthewing]

I'm really glad elyss came several years before melliwyk, because mel's alignment shift from chaotic neutral to chaotic good sometimes feels a little embarrassing in an 'I can't keep my own feelings to myself for the sake of committing to the bit' sort of way, but the counterpoint to that is that elyss, steadfastly true neutral, just simply Does Not Care about anyone other than her own loved ones or anything outside her own immediate interest no matter how much I sometimes wish she would

[bibleofficial]

i was literally crying more than my auntie at her only child’s wedding like ‘i never thought id live to see the day’ as if im fucking 75

[cat-tranzer]

ugh i kinda wanna get back on tumblr and rot my brain out some more

[mutalune]

hey siri how do I stop feeling gutwrenchingly anxious in the guilt way for using the treatment methods available to me to not be in constant misery

[whenthegoldrays]

🩷

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[713-4th-ward-g]

.

[yeyayeya]

I was today years old when I found out the proper name for pen in Spanish is “bolígrafo”