GET UP! LIVIDSTARR JUST UPDATED THE CITY OF LOVE! WE ARE SO BACK!

𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚞𝚗𝚎 𝙱𝚢 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 "𝚁𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢, 𝚏𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎"

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚞𝚜 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕

𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎

𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙾𝚗𝚎

𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚠𝚘

𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚎 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙵𝚒𝚟𝚎 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚂𝚒𝚡 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚎𝚗

PAUSE HALF OF HIS LIFE?!?!?

alright, so reader is slowly remembering hate the fact that it’s a memory where yunho is mad

forget me not | vi

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x witch!Reader AU: non-idol | supernatural Summary: Yunho should be happy--he's got everything going for him and he's set to marry the love of his life! So why is he standing outside of your shop on the night of his engagement party? Word Count: 6.9K Warnings: swearing, mentions of missing persons, fluff

Fic Masterlist

Yunho lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling as the quiet sounds of the night settled around him. His mind, however, refused to follow suit. No matter how tired his body was, his thoughts spun endlessly, circling back to the shop—and more specifically, to you.

He was excited at the thought of seeing you again. It hadn’t been that long since he returned to Seoul, but the pull to visit the Emporium had been growing stronger with each passing day. He could already picture you behind the counter, scolding Wooyoung for his antics, before turning to greet him with that knowing smile, as if you had been expecting him all along. Whatever the reason, the thought of seeing you again filled him with a strange, almost giddy anticipation.

Still, there was a feeling he couldn't quite shake.The more he thought about it, the clearer it became—you were always there. It didn't seem strange at first. He had assumed it was just part of your role, that the shop was your domain. But now, it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Have you ever left?

Wooyoung could move freely, coming and going as he pleased, yet you seemed bound to that strange, magical space.

Yunho turned over, restless now, staring at the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. It bothered him more than he wanted to admit. The shop seemed to be both your sanctuary and your prison, and the realization gnawed at him, unsettling him more than anything else.

Why couldn’t you leave? What kind of magic was holding you there? 

His phone buzzed on the table, a faint vibration cutting through the silence. Without even glancing at the screen, Yunho already knew who it was. He sat up, grabbing it with a sigh as he swiped to answer.

“Hey,” Yunho greeted, tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder. 

“You see the news?” Gunho’s voice crackled through the line, more concerned than curious.

Yunho froze, his grip on the phone tightening as dread settled like a heavy weight in his chest. “What news?” 

Scrambling to his feet, he headed into the living room, nearly stumbling over the coffee table as he rushed to turn on the TV. The familiar black screen flickered to life, and there it was. The words scrolled across the bottom of the screen:

Family of Lee Y/N files for legal declaration of death after three years with no leads.

“Tonight, we bring you a heartbreaking update on the mysterious disappearance of Lee Y/N, a case that has gripped the nation for three agonizing years. With no trace, no leads, and no answers, her family has taken the devastating step of filing a formal request with the courts to have her legally declared deceased.”

“This move marks the conclusion of a relentless search that began with hope but has since dwindled to this painful reality. For her loved ones, it’s not just the end of an investigation—it’s the closing chapter on three years of desperate prayers and unanswered questions.”

“In a heartfelt written statement, the family conveyed the grief that has consumed them since Y/N’s disappearance and the painful decision they’ve made to file with the courts to have her declared legally deceased:

"Over the last three years, not a single day has passed where we didn’t hold on to hope, praying for Y/N’s return. But as time has gone by, we’ve had to face the heartbreaking reality that we may never get the closure we so desperately need.  This decision isn't about giving up on Y/N or what she means to us. It’s about finding a way to survive in a world that no longer includes her. 

We will always love our daughter. She will forever be a part of our lives, and this is something we will carry with us for the rest of our days. This is the hardest thing we’ve ever had to do, and is a step we need to take to begin the healing process—for her, and for us."

A heavy pause lingered between them before Gunho’s voice cut through the silence. 

“I didn’t think they’d go through with it…but I guess they couldn’t wait anymore.”

"Yeah," Yunho muttered, though his voice was hollow. His fists clenched, knuckles turning white. It wasn’t fair. You were alive, breathing, moving—existing in that shop. But no one would believe it if he told them. The world ran on facts, on things that could be touched, proven, explained—and the shop was none of those things. It wasn’t on any map, couldn’t be found by search parties or missing persons reports.

To everyone else, the shop didn’t exist. And even if he wanted to tell your parents, what would he say?

"Oh, by the way, your daughter is alive, just running a magical shop that only I can find. She doesn’t remember anything about her past life with you. But don’t worry, she’s doing just fine!" 

The thought made him sick. If he said it out loud, he’d be dismissed as crazy—or worse, cruel. 

The shop might have been magical, but it was also a prison. He saw that now. A beautiful, mysterious prison that kept you chained, hidden from the world. And no matter how much he wanted to free you, to bring you back to the life you once had, he couldn’t force you out. You were bound by something deeper than magic—bound by your own pain, and your decision to forget.

“Mom and Dad went over to their house after they came back from the courthouse,” Gunho interrupted, his voice softening with a layer of sympathy Yunho wasn’t sure he was ready to handle. “Mr. Lee couldn’t stop crying.”

Yunho’s heart ached with the impossibility of it all. Your father’s tears, your mother’s quiet grief, the hollowed-out home where life had once thrived—they deserved closure, peace. But the truth wouldn’t give them that. It would only raise more questions, more pain.

He remembered the first time he’d visited your parents’ house after you disappeared. The warm, inviting home he’d known all his life felt cold, lifeless. The laughter that once filled the rooms, the scent of your mom’s cooking, the familiar hum of conversation—all of it was gone. Instead, there was only silence. 

And then there was your father.

Your father had always been a man full of energy, always quick to joke, quick to offer a smile. But that day, it was as if your disappearance had drained the life out of him, leaving behind a shell of the man who once doted on his daughter. 

Yunho could still see the way your father’s shoulders slumped as he led him up to your room, barely uttering a word. He had commented on the plush Yunho picked up before retreating quietly, disappearing into the background like a ghost in his own home.

He clenched his jaw, the frustration bubbling up inside him. All he could do was carry the weight of the secret, knowing that no matter how much he wanted to fix it, some things were beyond his control. The shop had taken you, and in doing so, it had taken the light from your family as well.

“Can you tell them I’m…sorry. Just that I’m so sorry for everything.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Gunho asked, Yunho could hear the frown in his brother’s voice.

What was he even apologizing for? For disappearing from their lives when they needed him most? For not being able to protect you? The truth was, he didn’t know where to start. Every regret, every moment of helplessness, crushed him under a guilt he could never fully articulate.

He had been there that day—the day you vanished. He had argued with you, had seen the way your expression darkened, the way your eyes filled with sadness, and yet he didn’t stop. He thought you’d come back, that you just needed space after the argument. But when you didn’t, when the days stretched into weeks, then months…Yunho had no one to blame but himself.

Your parents had reached out, desperate, but he was just as lost as they were. They had looked to him for answers, for some kind of hope, and he had none to offer. He had failed them. And now, knowing where you were—what you had become—made it even worse.

“I should have done more,” Yunho muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should’ve been there for them. And…I don’t know how to do anything else, but the least I can do is apologize and let them know that I’m also…missing Y/N.”

Gunho exhaled deeply. "I'll tell them," he finally said. "But, Yunho…you can’t keep carrying this all by yourself. You can’t keep punishing yourself for something you couldn’t control."

There was a pause, the crackle of the phone line filling the space between them before Yunho’s voice came back, quieter this time, like he was holding onto his composure by a thread. 

“I know, but just…just tell them for me. Please.”

Gunho exhaled, pressing the phone harder against his ear as if it could bring him closer to Yunho in that moment. “I will,” he said, his voice softer, filled with understanding. 

"Before you go," Yunho started, the words faltering for a second, "I need you to do me a favor."

⋆

That night, Yunho's sleep was anything but peaceful.

He stood in a grand throne room, its towering pillars casting long, imposing shadows that stretched out in the throne room like hands. The crimson red robe he donned felt suffocating, the weight of it unfamiliar, as if it didn’t belong to him. The heavy crown pressed down on his brow, making every breath feel like a struggle. 

Before him, you knelt on the cold stone floor, your wrists bound by iron shackles that clinked softly with each subtle movement. You were a shadow of the person he once knew. Gone were the bright, flowing robes you once wore, replaced by tattered prisoner’s clothes, sullied with the grime of the dungeon from which you had been dragged. Yunho’s breath hitched in his throat as he watched you kneel before him. It felt wrong. All of this feels wrong.

“Lady Lee Y/N,” the herald intoned, his voice cold and unfeeling, “you stand accused of high treason for the poisoning of Queen Mina.”

Whispers broke out amongst the members of the court, eyes darting between you and the throne. Yunho’s fingers tightened around the throne’s armrests, his knuckles whitening under the pressure as a sharp pain coiled in his chest. Treason? His mind screamed, desperate to reject what he was hearing. 

He had been told it was you, that all the evidence pointed to you. But as he looked into your hollow gaze, every fiber of his being rejected it. You couldn’t have done this. You wouldn’t have.

You were framed. He knew it as surely as he knew his own name. But what choice did he have? The kingdom demanded justice, demanded blood. If he refused to follow the law, what would that mean for the throne he had been sworn to uphold?

“Your crime,” the herald continued, his voice carrying an almost sickening indifference, “has brought great shame to this kingdom and your family. For that, you have been sentenced to death by execution, to take place before the court in a fortnight.”

Yunho’s chest tightened. The herald’s words hung in the air like a death sentence for his own soul. He could feel the weight of every noble’s gaze on him, waiting for his verdict, waiting for him to condemn you. But his heart screamed in protest. His mind raced, searching for some way out, some way to save you. His pulse pounded in his ears as time seemed to stretch agonizingly slow.

You lifted your head slowly, your movements heavy as though the weight of the shackles was nothing compared to the sorrow in your heart. When your eyes finally met Yunho’s, the world seemed to stop. 

Your lips parted, as if you were about to speak. For a brief second, Yunho held his breath, hoping—praying—that you would plead your innocence, that you would give him a reason, any reason, to defy the sentence that had already been handed down. But no words came.

Instead, your eyes told him everything. They bore into him with a clarity that words never could, a silent plea that tore at his heart. They were filled with pain, but not the kind he expected—not the sorrow of a victim pleading for mercy. No, your gaze held a different kind of anguish, one that Yunho had not anticipated.

You weren’t asking him to save you. You weren’t asking for forgiveness.

You were asking him to let you go.

Yunho gasped, his chest heaving as he shot upright in bed. His heart pounded violently as his breath came in ragged bursts, the air thick in his lungs as if he was still trapped in the throne room.

He squeezed his eyes shut, willing the image of you—kneeling, broken, pleading silently for release—to fade. But it wouldn’t. It felt too real to be more than just a nightmare—it had felt like a memory, like something he was doomed to repeat over and over, and no matter how much he wanted to change it, the outcome would always be the same.

Yunho paced around the kitchen, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he struggled to figure out how he was going to find the emporium in Seoul. Every lap around the room seemed to bring him closer to a resolution, but it still eluded him.

He knew the emporium was no ordinary shop—its location obscured from anyone who didn’t truly need to find it. But Yunho needed to find it, more now than ever. The problem was, the shop didn’t care about urgency.

Wooyoung, lounging lazily on the kitchen counter, tracked Yunho’s movements with mild curiosity. His casual demeanor was a stark contrast to Yunho’s anxious pacing as he let out another yawn and preened his face. 

"You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up," Wooyoung finally said with a yawn.

Yunho stopped mid-step, standing at the edge of the kitchen, his shoulders tense. "Wooyoung," he began, his voice faltering slightly. He wasn’t used to this—asking for help, especially not from Wooyoung. But desperation gnawed at him, and he didn’t have the luxury of pride right now. 

"I...I need to ask you something."

Wooyoung’s ears perked up. He sat up on his haunches, his gray eyes gleaming with mischief as they locked onto Yunho. 

“This must be serious," he smirked, the teasing glint in his eyes only growing sharper, but Yunho didn’t back down.

"Y/N can’t leave the shop can she?”

Wooyoung paused, his eyes flicking to the floor before locking onto Yunho’s again. “Well...no. Wishes aren’t simple and they sometimes come with consequences.”

“Consequences?”

“She asked to be its keeper,” Wooyoung continued, his voice serious, without a trace of his usual playfulness. “And that’s not a simple role. The emporium is not just some shop. It’s alive, connected to realms and forces you can’t even begin to comprehend. For her to keep it running, for her to maintain its balance, she had to become part of it. And that meant binding her, not just magically but physically, to the shop.”

“Then I need to find the Emporium in Seoul,” Yunho said, his voice firm and resolute. But even as the words left his mouth, a shadow of doubt crept in. He hesitated for just a moment, and the question followed before he could stop it: “But...where do I even start?”

“Well… for starters, magic is all about feeling,” Wooyoung began, his tone light and almost mocking, as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

“What do you mean?”

"Let me ask you this," he said, voice dropping to a whisper. "Is your love for my master not enough?"

Yunho’s eyes widened, frustration and embarrassment written all over his face. “That’s not—!” His voice cracked before he caught himself, but the heat was already there, his cheeks flushing with anger. “Of course I love Y/N! How could you even say that?”

Wooyoung tilted his head, studying Yunho with a smug satisfaction, as if he had anticipated this exact reaction. "Then why are you so hesitant?" he asked.

"I’m not hesitant," Yunho said, his voice tinged with frustration. "I just don’t know what I did last time to summon the shop.”

Wooyoung sighed dramatically, hopping off the counter and landing gracefully at Yunho’s feet. 

“You’re so busy doing that you’ve forgotten to feel. If you know where your heart lies, the emporium will open itself to you. If you were really that connected to Y/N, maybe your love would be enough to guide you back. Without my help.”

Wooyoung’s words felt like a taunt, poking at insecurities Yunho hadn’t even been ready to admit. Was there something wrong with him? Was his love for you not enough? Had he been too caught up in the chaos of everything to feel what was right in front of him?

Yunho took a deep breath, letting the tension in his shoulders slowly unwind. His mind was still racing, but the sharp edges of his frustration dulled slightly. 

"So what do I do, then?" he asked, his voice quieter now, less defensive.

Wooyoung stretched out, jumping down from the counter to land at Yunho’s feet. "Trust your connection with Y/N. Stop trying to find it with your head," he said simply. "And start searching with your heart."

Yunho left his apartment with a determined stride, the weight of your journal tucked carefully under his arm. The familiar hum of the city surrounded him—cars honking, distant conversations, the faint sizzle of street food vendors still open at this late hour. But tonight, none of it registered in his mind. His focus was singular, every thought of you pulling him forward like a string tied to his heart.

As he wound through the narrow streets, his steps quickened. He didn’t have a map, not a physical one, at least. The journal he carried wasn’t a guide to the emporium, but it was the closest thing he had to your lifeline. Your drawings were there, etched on the pages, a snapshot to your life and the bond you shared with him. He could almost feel your presence with him as he walked.

With every turn, the pull toward you grew stronger, an invisible force guiding him. He didn’t know where he was going—only that he had to keep moving. Then, as he rounded a corner, a strange sense of familiarity washed over him. 

There was something about this path, this particular stretch of road…

His eyes widened in recognition as he stopped dead in his tracks. Ahead of them, just across the street, stood the entrance to where you both had attended university. Yunho’s breath caught in his throat. He hadn’t been back here in years—not since he graduated. 

Wooyoung, who had been trailing lazily behind him, stopped beside Yunho, his keen eyes picking up on the sudden shift in Yunho’s expression. He followed Yunho’s gaze, a slow smirk creeping onto his face as he glanced between Yunho and the familiar sight ahead. 

“Well, would you look at that,” he mused, his voice light but carrying a note of something deeper—something knowing. “Seems like you’ve got a better sense of direction than I thought.”

Wooyoung turned to Yunho, a familiar glint of mischief lighting up his eyes as he leaned against a lamppost. "So, what's the grand plan when you get there, huh?" he asked, his voice teasing, laced with amusement. "You planning to storm in like a hero and declare your undying love for my master? Sweep her off her feet?"

Yunho shook his head, his lips tightening into a thin line, his gaze firmly fixed on the path ahead. "N-No… not exactly," he muttered, his voice quiet but steady.

“I want to make my wish."

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, intrigued. The teasing smirk on his face softened ever so slightly, though the playfulness didn’t completely vanish. 

"A wish, huh? And what exactly would that be?" He knew Yunho too well to take him at face value. Something had shifted in Yunho—this wasn’t just about him anymore.

Yunho didn’t answer right away. As he stood there, in the quiet night of Seoul, with the lights of the city dimming behind them, the gravity of what he wanted finally settled in. It wasn’t just about seeing you again. It wasn’t about selfishly pulling you back into his world, forcing memories to resurface, or desperately trying to rekindle what once was.

No, Yunho wanted something deeper. He wanted something for you.

"I want her to be free," Yunho finally said, his voice breaking the silence between them. "I want Y/N to be free. Not bound to that place.”

Wooyoung studied him for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were reevaluating everything he thought he knew about Yunho’s intentions. He had expected him to want something else, something more...predictable. Like wanting you to remember him, to rekindle your past and continue where things left off. But this? This was different. And for the first time, Wooyoung found himself... impressed.

Yunho’s heart pounded in his chest as he approached the familiar door, nestled between the soba shop and the weathered bookshop that always seemed deserted. The floral overhang above the door swayed gently, an ethereal presence that almost seemed to hum in recognition of his arrival. The soft pull in his chest was undeniable now, a subtle but persistent thrumming, like a thread drawing him closer to the place beyond the door.

He exhaled slowly, trying to steady the nerves gnawing at him. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, gathering his resolve, before pushing down on the handle. The door gave way with a soft creak, opening into the emporium.

The shop felt alive, as if it was breathing. Every corner brimming with energy, the air thick with the hum of magic. And there you were, standing in the center of it all.

⋆

“Yunho!” you exclaimed, startled as you caught sight of him standing in the doorway. Your heart skipped a beat, and in your flustered state, you instinctively waved your hand, sending a flurry of objects soaring through the air with your magic. 

Books shuffled themselves back onto shelves, a teacup hovered briefly before floating to its proper place, and an assortment of crystals and trinkets rearranged themselves with an almost frantic energy.

Yunho blinked, his eyes wide with surprise, though a soft smile tugged at his lips. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the small whirlwind of chaos unfold around you.

You glanced back at Yunho, cheeks flushed as you tried to regain your composure. "I wasn’t expecting—uh, I didn’t think you’d be here so soon!" Your voice betrayed the nervous flutter in your chest as you hastily used your magic to smooth down your clothes, attempting to look more presentable.

“I didn’t mean to catch you off guard,” he said, his voice warm and a little teasing.

You forced a light laugh, waving your hand dismissively even as the warmth on your cheeks spread further.

“No, no, it’s fine. The shop usually isn’t this chaotic. It’s just…” You narrowed your eyes toward the mischievous figure who trotted past. “Someone decided to take a little vacation, leaving me to tend to the place alone.”

“I earned that vacation,” Wooyoung quipped, his voice carrying a hint of amusement as he hopped up onto a nearby shelf. He stretched leisurely, clearly unbothered by your pointed stare. 

“Besides, you’ve got it under control…mostly.”

"Mostly?" You turned back to Yunho, mortified that he’d arrived to find you in the middle of what probably looked like absolute chaos. Shelves were haphazardly filled, some items glowing faintly with residual magic as if they hadn’t quite settled into their places, and the air smelled faintly of incense mixed with…something else. Something you didn’t have time to figure out right now.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said quietly. “I didn’t come here expecting anything perfect, I’m just keeping to my word.”

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two, the room now still and quiet after the flurry of activity. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

Wooyoung cleared his throat dramatically from the shelf, breaking the tension in the room. “Well, since I’m obviously not needed here, I’ll be going on another vacation. You two have fun playing shopkeeper and traveler,” he teased with a wink before disappearing into a wisp of smoke. 

With Wooyoung gone, the shop fell into stillness. The warmth of Yunho’s presence closed in on you and somehow the absence of your feline companion made the space feel larger, yet somehow more intimate. Every breath, every heartbeat, seemed amplified in the silence that had settled over the shop. It was just you and Yunho.

"I’ve decided what to wish for."

Yunho's voice was soft but unwavering as he took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours. 

"O-Of course. What might that be?" you asked, your voice faltering slightly. You fought to keep it steady, but something in the way Yunho looked at you—the depth of his gaze, the quiet intensity—made your heart race faster than you cared to admit.

"Your freedom."

Two simple words, but they hit you like a storm. The world around you seemed to still, the very air filled with the magnitude of what he’d just said. Your freedom. The one thing you never thought anyone could give you, let alone offer so willingly. 

"Yunho..." 

“I want you to be able to come and go as you please, to live your life without the magic chaining you to this place." He stepped closer still, and now you could feel the warmth radiating from him. 

"I’m willing to offer half of my life in exchange if that’s what it takes."

You blinked, your breath catching as his words sank in. Half of his life? The enormity of his offer was staggering, and for a moment, you couldn’t even comprehend it. 

"Why would you..." you stammered, your voice shaking with disbelief. "Why would you do that for…me? That’s—"

"You deserve to be free, Y/N," he whispered, his voice tender but resolute. "And if this is the way to make that happen, then I’ll gladly pay the price."

The very atmosphere of the emporium shifted in response, as if the magic within its walls had taken notice of his declaration. The shop creaked ominously, its magic swelling as though it, too, was contemplating Yunho’s wish. The lanterns overhead flickered, casting erratic shadows across the room, and the flowers hanging from the sky garden above swayed in unison.

"Ahem!" came an exaggerated throat clearing. 

Both you and Yunho jumped, startled by the sudden intrusion. Hongjoong stood casually leaning against the frame, arms crossed, a single brow arched surrounded by wisps of glittering smoke curled lazily around him.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, the intensity of the moment broken by his nonchalant interruption. Yunho, on the other hand, remained frozen for a brief second, visibly caught off guard. His jaw tightened, but the initial shock melted into a look of mild exasperation, a heavy sigh slipping from his lips.

Hongjoong’s smirk deepened, thoroughly unbothered by the silent glares he was receiving. 

"You were about to do something reckless," he remarked, his voice light but edged with a knowing sharpness. 

Yunho’s brow furrowed, his voice tight with determination. “I know what I’m doing. This is my choice.”

“Half of your life?’” Hongjoong paused, casting a pointed glance at the both of you. 

Hongjoong wasn’t one to interfere without reason, but the way he spoke of the emporium’s magic made your stomach churn with unease. Yunho’s wish was far more dangerous than either of you had realized.

"Yunho’s wish—" you began, your voice barely a whisper, but Hongjoong cut you off with a swift raise of his hand.

“Is admirable,” he finished for you, his tone softening for only a fraction of a second before turning sharp again, “but dangerously naive.” 

“The magic here doesn’t bargain in simple terms,” Hongjoong continued, his voice dropping low, the gravity of his words pulling the room into silence. “You can’t just offer up half of your life and expect everything to fall neatly into place. There are rules, consequences—ones that don’t care about the nobility of your intentions.”

Yunho blinked, his brow furrowing. "What do you mean?"

“If you do this, you won’t just be giving up years of your life. You’ll be binding giving up your soul, your essence. The magic will take from you in ways you can’t predict or undo.”

Hongjoong’s faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a rare flicker of humor breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He straightened up, crossing his arms casually as he studied Yunho. 

“That’s Y/N’s journal, isn’t it?” Hongjoong asked, his voice soft yet deliberate. He didn’t need an answer—he already knew.

Yunho stiffened slightly, instinctively bringing a hand to his chest where a corner of something protruded from the edge of his jacket. The memories it contained, the emotions inscribed within its pages, were too personal, too sacred to be used as collateral for anything. The mere thought of it made him uneasy.

“You know,” Hongjoong began thoughtfully, “magic thrives on more than just time or years of your life.” His eyes flicked meaningfully toward the journal. “It craves something deeper—emotions, memories…the essence of who we are."

“What are you saying?” Yunho demanded.

“I’m saying you might want to reconsider the offer. Y/N’s journal—those memories, those emotions—it holds far more value than any number of years you could offer.”

Your pulse quickened. You didn’t remember anything about the journal, couldn’t recall the emotions or thoughts tied to the pages of ink. And yet, knowing that it carried fragments of your past—memories that could belong to you but were now lost—stirred something deep within you. 

"My…journal?" you asked, puzzled as you stared at the worn leather book in Yunho’s hands. It felt foreign, almost surreal, to see it again.

“I promised to tell you the truth about your past and…about us.” His voice faltered briefly as the enormity of that promise washed over him. “I brought this,” he continued, finally pulling the worn journal from his jacket, “because it was important to you. And I thought…maybe it could help you remember.”

Yunho’s fingers lightly brushed over the journal, his expression softening as he looked at it. “It’s full of your drawings. You used to sketch everything—places we went, people we met–everything. You captured things no one else noticed, things I didn’t notice until I saw them through your eyes.” He swallowed hard, his gaze shifting back to you. 

“You always saw me better than I saw myself.”

He handed you the journal, his hands steady but his heart pounding. "I thought if you saw your own art—saw what you felt, what you captured—maybe... maybe you'd remember something, even just a piece of who you were."

Your fingers trembled slightly as you took the journal, feeling the worn leather beneath your fingertips. This book had been with you through so much, carried pieces of you that even you didn’t remember anymore. You ran your thumb along the edge of the cover, trying to steady your breath. It felt strange—holding something that had once been so personal, and now, it was like holding a fragment of someone else's life.

"It feels strange," you admitted, quietly. "It’s like it belongs to someone else." 

"I know," he said quietly, his voice gentle yet unwavering. "But this is still you. The person in those pages—she’s still here." 

He reached out, his hand covering yours, and the warmth of his touch steadied you. The slight tremor in your fingers stilled as his presence grounded you, reminding you that, despite everything, you were not alone. You simply stood there, staring at the journal, a relic of a past that seemed unreachable. Was that person really still inside you? Could the pieces of the past be put back together, or had too much been lost?

“This...is the least I can do for you.” He looked down at the journal in your hands, a symbol of what he was about to give up. His eyes met yours, more intense than you’d ever seen. 

"I’m going to make my wish. I’ll give anything to set you free.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Yunho’s words carried a weight that both terrified and comforted you. He was ready to sacrifice something—perhaps everything—to break the chains that held you to the Emporium.

“I’ll grant the wish,” Hongjoong declared, his voice slicing through the heavy silence of the Emporium. His tone was casual, almost amused, but his eyes—sharp and knowing—held the gravity of what was about to happen.

“No, let me—” you began, stepping forward instinctively, but Hongjoong cut you off.

“Whatever that toy did to you, it weakened your magic. You can’t afford to take chances right now,” he explained softly. 

You had nearly forgotten about the plush toy in the chaos of recent events. But now, with Hongjoong's reminder, the faint sense of something missing from within you became impossible to ignore. Your magic had indeed felt dim, like a flame trying to burn under water. It left you feeling vulnerable. Unmoored.

You glanced at Yunho, who stood tall and resolute, though the slight tremble in his hands revealed the weight of his decision. The journal remained clutched tightly in his grip, as if he wasn’t quite ready to let go. The air around you began to buzz with energy, the edges of magic stirring, making your skin prickle.

Suddenly, the floor beneath Yunho lit up with a radiant glow. Intricate symbols—ancient runes and shimmering patterns of light—spread out from under his feet, forming a large, pulsating circle that expanded to the edges of the room. The energy in the air vibrated around you, and the ground beneath your feet hummed with power. The magic was alive, swirling and converging, ready to set the impossible in motion.

The magic began to rise, swirling around him like a gentle wind at first, then growing stronger, forming a cyclone of light and energy. The glow intensified, a brilliant vortex that seemed to pulsate with the power of the wish. The journal in his hands began to shine, its pages flickering as if they were coming alive.

You felt a sharp tug at your chest, your own magic reacting to the powerful forces being summoned in the room. It stirred weakly, echoing through your body, as though the emporium itself was waking up, aware of the monumental exchange taking place. The air hummed with a potency that both exhilarated and terrified you.

Then, as quickly as it had risen, the whirl of magic began to dissipate. The light faded, dimming until the room was left in a quiet stillness. The energy that had crackled and swirled just moments ago was gone, leaving only a faint ringing in your ears. Your breath came in shallow, uneven gulps as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. The intense force of the magic had vanished, but something inside you had shifted, changed.

You felt…lighter. The sensation was almost surreal, like a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying had suddenly been lifted from your shoulders. In that moment, something inside you broke—an invisible barrier you hadn’t even realized was there. 

Yunho stood in front of you, his eyes soft yet heavy with concern. He searched your face, as if trying to piece together the puzzle of what you might be feeling.

"How do you feel?" he asked, his voice low and tentative, as though he was afraid of the answer.

For a moment, you didn’t respond. You didn’t need to. You looked at him, the edges of a smile tugging at your lips, and before you even realized what you were doing, you reached out and poked him lightly on the chest. It was a simple, almost childish gesture, but it broke the tension that had settled over the room.

Yunho blinked, surprised at the sudden touch, but a soft chuckle escaped him. His shoulders eased just a little, and that warm, familiar glow returned to his eyes. 

That was all it took. 

Without thinking, you stepped forward, closing the distance between you and wrapped your arms around him. The embrace was instinctive, natural, as if it had been waiting for this moment. His arms encircled you, pulling you close, holding you as if you were something fragile, something he didn’t want to break. In his embrace, you felt a warmth that had been missing for so long.

As you buried your face in his chest, you heard a soft fluttering sound around you. It was faint at first, but then the sound grew louder, like wings beating in the air. You pulled back slightly and looked around the shop.

Pages. The journal—your journal—had burst open. Loose pages, filled with memories, sketches, and words, were now swirling through the air, carried by an invisible breeze. The pages brushed past you, each one holding pieces of your past that had been hidden for so long. Sketches of places you vaguely recognized, fragments of conversations you couldn’t quite place, and moments that had long since faded from your memory.

Hongjoong stood a little further away, his smile softening into something more tender. He looked on at you and Yunho, with a quiet contentment. His eyes gleamed with pride, not just in satisfaction with the outcome, but as if he had been waiting for this moment all along—for you to find your way back to Yunho.

The emporium, the magic, the chaos—it all led to this, and for the first time in a long while, he seemed genuinely at peace.

⋆

“Well, well, look at you,” Wooyoung’s playful tone rang out, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in the room. He padded in with his usual feline grace, tail flicking with amusement, his gray eyes gleaming mischievously as they zeroed in on you.

“Getting ready for your date with Yunho?” His voice carried that familiar lilt, half-teasing, half-genuine, that he knew would rile you up.

You shot him an unimpressed look, but the warmth creeping up your neck betrayed you, your cheeks turning pink despite your best efforts to appear unaffected.

“It’s not a date, just an outing.”

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “A weekend getaway to the beach isn’t an ‘outing,’ he quipped. “Come on, admit it—you’re looking forward to this.”

You paused, fingers toying with the sleeves of your cardigan. The truth was harder to hide now, and you couldn’t help but smile—just a little.

“Maybe. A little,” you admitted, the butterflies in your stomach betraying the downplay.

But before you could say anything more, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through your head. It came out of nowhere, sudden and intense, like someone had struck you from within. You winced, your hand immediately flying to your temple as the ache intensified. The pain spread like wildfire, spreading until it became almost unbearable.

"Master? Are you okay?" Wooyoung’s playful tone vanished instantly, replaced by genuine concern. He leapt onto your bed with nimble ease, his tail twitching anxiously, his eyes wide with worry.

But you couldn’t respond. Your world was spinning, and suddenly, it was as if someone had thrown open the floodgates in your mind. You were standing outside of an apartment complex, your heart pounding. Yunho was there too, looking at you with an expression you couldn’t quite place—he was…angry. He was saying something, his lips moving, but you were too distracted by the tears stinging your own eyes. 

“Master!” Wooyoung’s voice pierced through the chaos, pulling you back to the present. His paw gently pressed against your leg, trying to anchor you. “What’s happening, I’ll call for Jongho–”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, shaking your head despite the pulsating pain reverberating through your skull. You didn’t want to alarm Wooyoung further, didn’t want him summoning Jongho over a headache. You forced the words out, struggling to sound convincing.

“No, I’m fine. It’s just a migraine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not even close. That memory—Yunho standing there, his face twisted in anger—felt too real. It wasn’t just a fleeting moment or a dream. It was something that had actually happened, though you couldn’t recall why. You had forgotten it, buried it so deep that your mind hadn’t been able to access it until now. And with it came a flood of confusion and guilt. 

What had you done to make him look at you like that?

<< v | vii >>

taglist: @babymbbatinygirl @intowxnderland @hwasa28 @thedistractedwriter @beabatiny @lovelyglares @spenceatiny18 @tiny-apocalypse @sunnysidesins @heyitsmetonid @jwone @laurenwidjaja @potatos-on-clouds @xuchiya @syubseokie

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓆞 Jealousy Left Unwrapped - @freyaphoria yandere!matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Jenga And Jealousy - @hongjoongtime117 ot8 x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Little Accidents - @bombuni owners!matz x kitty!reader x kitty!wooyoung (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Light It Up! - @cybrsan matz x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Mark me as yours - @littlefireball dragon hybrid!yeosang x dragon hybrid!reader x dragon hybrid!seonghwa (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 How I Play - @tinyidle idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Important - @yunniverse bf!idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Intoxicating - @atzaurora idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Jealous Oppa~ - @mangomingus idol!hongjoong x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Kindergarten Love Story - @xomakara dad!kindergarten teacher!hongjoong x police officer!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓆞 Strange Tide - @jagibangbangchan pirate!seonghwa x siren!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Strawberry Cakes - @skrrts fiancé!non-idol!seonghwa x fiancé!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Take me to Paris... - @bvidzsoo mafia!seonghwa x single mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Take My Soul, Take My Heart - @itsbeeble pirate!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Taste Of You - @callmeagardengnome idol!seonghwa x mukbanger!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Day Off - @sweetiesicheng bf!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Guerrilla - @sorryimananti-romantic doctor!serial killer!yunho x writer!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Ok, Cowboy - @everyonewooeverywhere cowboy!mechanic!yunho x reader (series) 𓆞 𓆞 Video Game Lover - @crimsonbubble streamer!yunho x gn!reader (thoughts) 𓆞 𓆞 You Right  - @theyungihven bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Behind The Mask - @sweetblossomsss king!yeosang x servant!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Cotton Candy Skies - @shownusgfayoooo bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 The Doberman - @rems-writing bodyguard!yeosang x rapper!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Velvet Nights - @mingi-s-dimples angel!yeosang x angel!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Whispers In The Rain - @koyagifs idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 San Comes Home From Tour In The Middle Of The Night - @redzie02 idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Stargazers - @xuchiya non-idol!san x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 That's What I Like - @theyungihven millionaire bf!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Untitled - @songsanpotato idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Wonderland - @/goldendynastys yandere!san x reader (series) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Comfortable Lazy - @skrrts bf!non-idol!mingi x gn!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Unspoken Words - @koyagifs non-idol!mingi x reader ft.yeosang (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @dancinglikebutterflywings fiancee!mingi x fiancee!reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @everyonewooeverywhere non-idol!mingi x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Wanted Dead Or Alive - @xomakara cowboy!mingi x heiress!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Sleepover - @kitten4sannie wooyoung x reader ft.mingi (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 That's Not Your Food, Woo - @pettypuppy-jonghyun bf!idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 The Baby Bug - @xomakara dad!wooyoung x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 To Be The One - @cheeseceli idol!wooyoung x reader (thoughts) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @thelargefrye idol!wooyoung x ninth member!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Amusement Love - @koyagifs best friend!idol!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Inevitable Ending - @wwooyology prince!jongho x servant!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 I Wished For You - @nightbeforethend bf!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Surprise, Surprise - @dancinglikebutterflywings bf!non-idol!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Untitled - @bombuni bf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

This is so good! I can’t wait for the next part! <3

The CEO Collision - Part One

Pairing: CEO!Seonghwa x CEO! reader (f)

Warnings / content for Part One: Suggestive content, angsty, alcohol consumption. Please note that other than Ateez, all other character names used are fictional.

Word Count: 10.4k

Masterlist for The CEO Collision

“Congratulations, Ms. Y/N,” your secretary said when you entered your office after your last meeting for the day, and the week as it was a Friday. “The investors seemed impressed.”

“Thank you, Nari,” you replied with a grin, gathering your stuff to put it in your bag. “Shouldn’t you be heading out soon for your date?”

Nari blushed. “Yunho pushed our reservation by half an hour to give me some time to get ready.”

You nodded. “That’s sweet of him. Have fun tonight,” you said, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “And tell Yunho I said hi.”

“Will do,” Nari said with a grin. “You’re heading straight home?”

“That’s the plan,” you replied, glancing at your phone to check the time. “I’m long overdue for a quiet night in.”

Nari chuckled. “Knowing you, you’ll end up working from home anyway.”

You smirked. “Probably, but at least I’ll be in my pajamas.”

“Fair point,” she said, walking you to the elevator. “Drive safe, Ms. Y/N.”

“You too. And don’t let Yunho distract you too much from dinner,” you teased as the elevator doors opened.

Nari blushed again, laughing as she waved goodbye. “No promises.”

The elevator doors closed, leaving you alone for the descent to the parking garage. You leaned against the wall, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. The week had been productive but exhausting, and the promise of the weekend was the only thing that kept you going.

Once the elevator reached the basement, you stepped out and made your way to your car. The quiet hum of the nearly empty garage was oddly comforting as you unlocked the sleek black sedan that your father had insisted you drive.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, you tossed your bag onto the passenger side and started the engine. The low purr was satisfying, a reminder of all the hard work that had brought you here. As you pulled out of the parking lot, the city lights began to blur together in a comforting glow against the evening sky.

The drive home was uneventful, the streets gradually growing quieter as you moved away from the bustling business district. By the time you reached the gates of your family’s estate, the sun had dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and purple.

The gates opened automatically as you approached, and you drove down the winding driveway toward the sprawling mansion. Parking in your usual spot, you turned off the car and sat there for a moment, staring at the grand facade of your childhood home.

With a resigned sigh, you grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car, making your way to the front door. One of the house staff greeted you with a polite smile as you entered.

“Welcome home, Ms. Y/N. Dinner will be served shortly.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, slipping off your heels as you made your way inside. The comforting aroma of your mother’s cooking wafted through the air, and despite your exhaustion, a small part of you looked forward to the meal.

As you approached the dining room, you heard the faint hum of conversation and your twin brother’s unmistakable laughter.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” your twin, Hongjoong, teased without looking up.

Rolling your eyes, you walked over and ruffled his perfectly styled hair, earning a sharp protest.

“Ugh, stop that!” he grumbled, swatting your hand away.

“Can’t help it,” you replied with a smirk as you took your seat. “You look too polished. Someone has to keep you grounded.”

He huffed, running his fingers through his hair to fix it, muttering under his breath about how annoying you were.

“Kids, behave,” your mother said with a fond smile as the staff began serving dinner.

You glanced at the spread—steaming platters of food, perfectly arranged salads, and freshly baked buns. Despite the lavish meal, your mind was still buzzing with thoughts of work.

“How was your day, dear?” your mother asked, her tone warm while she watched you fill up your plate.

“It went really well,” you replied, a sense of pride creeping into your voice. “We had our investor meeting today for the new line of medical imaging devices, and they were impressed. They’ve agreed to back us for the next phase of development.”

“That’s wonderful news,” your father said, setting down his fork to look at you. “This could be a game-changer for your company.”

“It will be,” you said confidently, picking up your glass of water. “The potential applications are huge, and with their support, we’ll be able to expand production globally.”

Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought you’d be burnt out by now. You’ve been working on that pitch for weeks.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of water. “I won’t lie, it’s been exhausting. But seeing the results today made it worth it.”

“Hard work always pays off,” your father said approvingly. “You’ve done an excellent job, Y/N.”

Your mother beamed with pride. “I knew you’d pull it off. You’ve always had a knack for making things happen.”

“Well, let’s just hope the development phase goes as smoothly,” you said, though the smile on your face didn’t waver.

Dinner buzzed with lively conversation as the dishes were passed around. Stories from work, jokes, and plans for the weekend filled the air. You felt the week’s exhaustion slowly ebb away as the comfortable rhythm of family time took over.

“So, Joong,” your father said casually, turning to your brother. “Are you heading to Mingi’s bar later tonight? Seonghwa mentioned the two of you were planning to catch up over drinks.”

Hongjoong shrugged, chewing on a bite of salmon. “He brought it up earlier, but I haven’t decided yet. Why?”

Your father leaned back in his chair, his expression growing more serious. “I spoke with Seonghwa’s parents today.”

The mood at the table shifted subtly, your mother straightening her posture and Hongjoong setting down his fork.

“Oh?” your brother said cautiously. “What about?”

Your father hesitated for a moment, as though choosing his words carefully. Then, he said, “Their company has been struggling for a while now. They came to us with a… suggestion.”

“What kind of suggestion?” you asked, sensing where this might be headed but hoping you were wrong.

Your father looked directly at you. “They’ve asked for your hand in marriage, Y/N.”

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap.

“What?” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

Hongjoong gaped, clearly just as blindsided at hearing that his bestfriend would possibly marry his twin sister. “Wait, hold on. You’re joking, right?”

Your father shook his head. “They believe a marriage between you and Seonghwa would secure both families’ futures. It would strengthen the partnership and stabilize their company.”

“This is ridiculous,” you snapped, your appetite vanishing. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s not as bad as you think,” your mother interjected softly. “You and Seonghwa already know each other since high school. It wouldn’t be like starting from scratch.”

“That’s exactly the problem!” you exclaimed. “We know each other too well, and it’s not good!”

Well, your relationship with Seonghwa was complicated. In simpler words, you hated each other.

Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. Strongly dislike?

You and Seonghwa have history, though.  

And it hurts every time you see him.

“Y/N,” your father said firmly, “this is bigger than personal feelings. Sometimes, sacrifices need to be made for the greater good.”

Hongjoong was not amused, his voice rising. “You’re really going to force her into this? Without even discussing it with her first?”

“We’re discussing it now,” your father replied, his tone calm but unyielding.

You felt a wave of anger and disbelief crash over you. “Discussing? You’ve already decided, haven’t you?”

Your mother avoided your gaze, and your father’s silence was confirmation enough.

Hongjoong’s jaw clenched. “This is insane.”

“You’re being dramatic,” your father said. “This arrangement will benefit everyone.”

“I’m not doing it,” you said through gritted teeth, pushing your chair back. “You can’t make me.”

“Y/N—” your mother started, but you were already on your feet, your heart pounding with fury.

“I need some air,” you muttered before storming out of the dining room, leaving your stunned family behind.

The cool night air brushed against your skin as you stepped into the garden, the faint glow of lanterns lighting the cobblestone path. The neatly trimmed hedges and rows of blooming flowers framed the vast space, but your focus was on the gazebo ahead—a sanctuary of peace amid the chaos of the evening.

You made your way to it and sat down on the wooden bench inside. The gazebo overlooked the koi pond, its surface rippling gently under the moonlight. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging within you.

Marriage. To him.

The thought alone made your chest tighten. You pressed your hands against your lap, fingers gripping the fabric of your dress. Your mind, against your will, drifted to the past.

It was senior year of college, a warm night like this one, and a party full of red cups, blaring music, and friends urging you to drink. You and Seonghwa had both been there, circling each other with that same mix of irritation and curiosity that had always defined your relationship.

You remembered the alcohol-fueled courage that led to a heated argument in the kitchen, which somehow turned into shared laughter and then lips moving against each other, and then…

You shook your head, willing the memory to stop, but it continued. The two of you in his dimly lit bedroom, a tangle of limbs and whispers, hands all over each other, bare skin to bare skin, the lines of hatred blurring for a brief moment. And then, the next morning.

The hurt welled up as you recalled how he had acted like nothing had happened, brushing it off as though it had been meaningless. No acknowledgment, no apology—just an unspoken agreement to pretend it never occurred.

Your nails dug into your palms as the emotions swirled. Hurt. Anger. Resentment.

Because that wasn’t the first time you spent the night in Seonghwa’s bed. It happened one more time the same year.

And again three years later when you both started a masters degree in the same university.

He reacted the exact same way, acting like this was all a mistake.

A soft knock on the wooden pillar of the gazebo startled you, pulling you back to the present.

You turned, and there he was—Park Seonghwa.

His tall figure was illuminated by the soft garden lights, and his dark suit clung to him perfectly, as always. His expression was unreadable, his eyes steady as they met yours.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked, his voice calm, though you could sense the tension beneath it.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you masked it with a glare. “Do I have a choice?”

Seonghwa’s lips curved into the faintest smirk as he stepped into the gazebo, his presence filling the small space. “Not really.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Why are you here?”

“I came to pick up your brother,” he said, leaning against one of the pillars. “But it seems like I stumbled into a family meeting instead.”

“You knew,” you accused, your voice sharp.

His brows furrowed. “Knew what?”

“About this ridiculous arrangement,” you snapped, standing abruptly. “About our parents trying to marry us off like some business merger.”

Seonghwa’s expression hardened. “You think I had a say in this?”

“You always seem to have a say in everything,” you shot back, the years of resentment bubbling to the surface.

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I found out this afternoon, Y/N. I’m just as blindsided as you are.”

You searched his face for any sign of deception, but all you saw was the same frustration you felt. It caught you off guard, and you lowered your gaze, the fight draining out of you.

“I’m not doing it,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

Seonghwa’s voice softened slightly. “Neither am I. But you know how our families are. They won’t make this easy for us.”

You clenched your jaw, looking away. The weight of the situation pressed down on you, and for a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the garden’s serenity at odds with the turmoil in your hearts.

“I don’t want to marry you, Seonghwa,” you said finally, your voice trembling with honesty.

He hesitated, and when he spoke, his tone was quieter, almost resigned. “I know,” he murmured, loud enough for you to hear before he left you alone.

But for some reason, the way he said it didn’t bring you the relief you thought it would.

-x-x-x-

The soft clinking of cutlery and the murmur of polite conversation filled the sunlit dining room. The brunch spread before you was nothing short of extravagant, as was typical of any gathering hosted by your family. Freshly baked croissants, platters of fruit, and a variety of cheeses adorned the table, along with a selection of teas and juices.

Across from you sat Mr. and Mrs. Park, Seonghwa’s parents, their expressions warm despite the tension that lingered beneath the surface. Mrs. Park, ever elegant, wore a tailored pastel suit, her smile gentle as she sipped her tea. Mr. Park, though visibly tired, maintained his usual composed demeanor.

“Thank you for having us,” Mrs. Park said, glancing at you. “It’s always a pleasure to visit.”

“It’s always nice to see you, Mrs. Park,” you replied with a small smile, setting your cup down.

Your parents sat at the head of the table, exchanging pleasantries with the Parks, but the unspoken purpose of the brunch hung heavy in the air.

“How’s Seonghwa?” your mother asked casually, though there was a slight edge to her tone.

Mrs. Park hesitated, her smile faltering for a moment. “He… had a late night with Hongjoong and Mingi,” she said delicately. “He’s resting.”

You barely suppressed a scoff. Of course, he was. It wasn’t hard to imagine him nursing a hangover while his parents tried to salvage their family’s business.

“Oh yes,” your mother said, her expression neutral as she took a sip of her tea.

Mrs. Park quickly redirected the conversation. “Y/N, how is your work going? I heard about your recent success with the investors. That’s truly impressive.”

“Thank you,” you said, offering a polite smile. “It’s been a busy few weeks, but the results were worth it.”

“You’ve always been so driven,” Mrs. Park said fondly. “It’s one of the things I’ve always admired about you.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. Mrs. Park had always been kind to you, treating you almost like a second daughter. The thought of her struggling because of their company’s financial issues tugged at something in your chest.

As the conversation continued, Mr. Park cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “We won’t pretend this isn’t a difficult situation,” he said, his tone steady but tinged with exhaustion. “Our company… it’s been challenging, to say the least. We’ve explored every option we can think of this past two years, but this marriage proposal seemed like the best path forward—for both our families.”

Your father nodded, his expression serious. “It’s not ideal, but it’s a way to ensure stability.”

Mrs. Park turned to you, her gaze soft. “Y/N, I know this isn’t fair to you. If there were another way, we wouldn’t even consider asking this of you. But… we’re out of options.”

The vulnerability in her voice made your heart ache. You had known the Parks for years, and they had always treated you with warmth and respect. The thought of them losing everything felt deeply unfair.

“I understand,” you said quietly, your hands resting on your lap. “You and Mr. Park have always been kind to me, and I appreciate that more than I can say. If marrying Seonghwa is what it takes to help your family, then… I’ll consider it.” A silence fell over the table, broken only by the soft chirping of birds outside. “But…” you continued, “I would like to get to know Seonghwa a bit more first.”

Mrs. Park’s eyes filled with gratitude, and she reached out to place a hand over yours. “Thank you, Y/N. You have no idea what this means to us.”

Your father looked at you with a mix of surprise and approval, while your mother’s expression remained unreadable.

But as you sat there, a quiet determination settling over you, you couldn’t help but wonder how you would face Seonghwa after this—and whether he would ever understand why you made this choice.

You had a soft spot when it came to him. Perhaps that’s why it was so easy for you to at least agree to try?

Later in the day, you were sat on the plush couch in your room, a glass of wine in your hand as you recounted the whirlwind of the past 24 hours to your best friend. Across from you, Yeri was curled up in an armchair, her eyes wide with interest as you spoke.

When you finished, she let out a low whistle, her jaw dropping slightly. “So, let me get this straight,” she said, leaning forward. “You’re basically engaged to CEO Park Seonghwa?”

“Uh, no,” you replied with a sigh, twirling the stem of your wine glass between your fingers. “I asked to get to know him, Yeri. It’s… complicated.”

Yeri tilted her head thoughtfully, her expression surprisingly calm. “It doesn’t sound like you’re entirely against it, though. The idea of marrying him, I mean.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard. “You’re not going to yell at me about how unfair this is?”

She shrugged, offering you a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I think the whole ‘arranged marriage for the sake of business’ thing is ridiculous. But honestly, Y/N, it might not be the worst thing in the world.”

Your brows furrowed. “How can you say that? You know how I feel about him.”

Yeri sighed, setting her glass down on the coffee table. “I know Seonghwa’s a sore spot for you, and I know your history with him isn’t exactly… ideal. But it’s been nearly four years since the last time you were with him, you both are thirty years old, and his parents are struggling and this can help them. If your families think this is the best way to secure the future, it might be worth considering.”

You stared at her, unsure whether to feel betrayed or grateful. “You’re awfully calm about all this.”

“Because I know you,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You wouldn’t even be entertaining this idea if you didn’t care. You’ve always had a soft spot for people in need, poor or rich, and as much as you hate to admit it, you care about his family. Plus…” She paused, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “It’s not like Seonghwa’s hard to look at.”

“Yeri!” you exclaimed, throwing a pillow at her.

She laughed, dodging the pillow easily. “I’m just saying! If you have to be stuck in a marriage of convenience, at least it’s with someone who looks like him. You must admit, he speaks so eloquently too.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re too stubborn for your own good,” she shot back. “Look, I’m not saying this is going to be easy. But maybe it’s an opportunity to start fresh. You’ve spent so much energy hating him—maybe it’s time to let some of that go?”

You bit your lip, her words hitting closer to home than you wanted to admit. “It’s not that simple, Yeri.”

“I know it’s not,” she said gently. “But you’re one of the strongest people I know, and if anyone can make this work, it’s you.”

You let out a long sigh, setting your glass down. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Yeri leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with determination. “You start by surviving this engagement thing or getting to know him whatever-thing. And when the time comes, I’ll be there to make sure your wedding is the event of the century. Deal?”

A small laugh escaped you as you reached for your wine glass again. “Deal.”

“To new beginnings,” Yeri said, raising her glass in a toast.

“To surviving this mess,” you replied, clinking your glass against hers.

-x-x-x-

The hum of activity filled your office as you reviewed the latest reports from your team. The success of the investor meeting last week had set a positive tone, and you were determined to keep the momentum going.

Your phone buzzed against your desk, drawing your attention away from the document in front of you. Frowning slightly, you reached for it and saw a message from Seonghwa.

Seonghwa: Dinner tonight? Let’s talk.

Your breath hitched, your heart racing despite yourself. You hesitated, staring at the screen for a moment before typing a reply.

You: What time?

The response came almost immediately.

Seonghwa: 7 PM? I’ll pick you up.

You: Sounds good

You set your phone down, trying to focus on your work, but your thoughts were already elsewhere. The idea of sitting across from him at a dinner table was… unsettling. After years of tension, could the two of you even hold a decent conversation?

A knock on your office door pulled you from your thoughts. “Come in,” you called, smoothing your expression.

Nari walked in, holding a folder. “Here are the updated projections you asked for.”

“Thank you,” you said, taking the folder and setting it on your desk.

Nari hesitated for a moment, glancing at your phone. “Are you okay, Ms. Y/N? You seem… distracted.”

You managed a smile. “I’m fine, just a lot on my mind.”

She nodded, not pressing further. “If you need anything, let me know.”

As she left, you leaned back in your chair, letting out a long sigh. You knew why Seonghwa had reached out. You were both navigating uncharted territory, and like it or not, you needed to give this a chance—for your families, if nothing else.

When the clock struck five, you grabbed your coat and bag, leaving the office with a sense of apprehension. As you headed to your car, you checked your phone again, confirming the time.

7 PM. Dinner with CEO Park Seonghwa.

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened as you drove home to get ready. You weren’t sure if this dinner would bring any clarity, but one thing was certain: it was the start of a new chapter, whether you liked it or not.

---

You stood in front of your floor-length mirror, smoothing the fabric of your black silk dress. It clung to your figure perfectly, the sleek design exuding elegance while still being understated enough for a dinner meeting. Your matching pumps completed the look, and you reached for your favorite necklace—a delicate silver chain with a tiny diamond pendant—fastening it around your neck.

As you finished applying a touch of lipstick, there was a knock at your bedroom door.

“Come in,” you called, setting the tube down on your vanity.

The door creaked open, and Hongjoong’s familiar face appeared. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his sharp suit slightly wrinkled, likely from a long day at work.

“You look nice,” he said, his tone light but his eyes watchful.

“Thanks,” you replied, turning back to the mirror to check your hair one last time.

“So…” he began, stepping further into the room. “Dinner with Seonghwa, huh? He’s waiting downstairs.”

You let out a soft sigh, turning to face him. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not starting,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I just… wanted to check in.”

You arched a brow. “Check in? Since when do you ‘check in’?”

He smiled faintly, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. “Since my twin sister got roped into an engagement with my best friend, whom she’s barely been able to tolerate for the past decade.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the edge of your vanity. “I’ll survive, Joong. It’s just dinner.”

“I know,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. “But you’ve never told me why you and Seonghwa don’t get along. And now you’re supposed to marry him. I can’t help but worry about how this is going to work.”

You averted your gaze, focusing on the soft shimmer of your dress under the light. “It’s… complicated.” You couldn’t tell Hongjoong about the couple of times you slept with Seonghwa; he would be furious and you didn’t want any drama.

“It always is with you two,” he said, exhaling a laugh. “But you know you can talk to me, right? If there’s something I should know, I’m here.”

The sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten, but you forced a small smile. “I know. Thanks, Joong.”

He studied you for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly. “You don’t have to do this, you know. If it’s too much—if it’s not what you want—mom and dad will understand.”

You shook your head, standing straighter. “It’s not about what I want. This is bigger than me, and you know it.”

Hongjoong sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I hate that you’re in this position. But if anyone can handle it, it’s you.”

You smiled faintly. “Thanks for the pep talk, coach.”

He grinned, standing and brushing invisible lint from his suit. “What are brothers for?”

As he reached the door, he paused, glancing back at you. “Be careful tonight, okay?”

“I will,” you promised, and with that, he left, leaving you alone with your thoughts once again.

You turned back to the mirror, taking a deep breath. Your reflection stared back at you, poised but uncertain. This dinner wasn’t just a meal—it was the first step in navigating a path you never thought you’d take.

You descended the grand staircase of your family’s mansion, the soft clicking of your heels echoing against the marble floor. Your fingers brushed lightly against the ornate railing, and you forced yourself to remain calm, despite the flutter of nerves in your chest.

At the base of the stairs, Seonghwa stood with your mother, engaged in polite conversation. His smooth voice carried up to you, though you couldn’t make out his words.

It wasn’t until you were halfway down that his gaze shifted, locking onto you. His conversation with your mother faltered for a brief second, his eyes trailing up your figure with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place.

You tried not to let his attention rattle you, but you couldn’t help noticing how sharp he looked tonight. He wore a silk white button-up shirt tucked neatly into tailored black slacks. The top button of his shirt was undone, revealing just enough of his collarbone to add an air of casual charm.

There was a reason why Park Seonghwa was frequently labeled the most handsome and eligible bachelor CEO in the country. And tonight, it was painfully obvious why.

As you reached the last step, your mother turned to you with a warm smile. “Ah, there you are, darling. You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Mom,” you said, offering her a small smile. Your gaze flicked briefly to Seonghwa, who was still watching you. His expression was unreadable, but the intensity of his stare made your skin heat.

“Seonghwa’s been keeping me company while you were getting ready,” your mother said, her tone light and conversational.

“Good to know he’s capable of that,” you replied, unable to resist a teasing jab.

Seonghwa’s lips quirked upward in a small smirk. “I aim to impress.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the faint twitch of amusement at the corners of your mouth.

“Well,” your mother said, clasping her hands together, “you two should get going. Don’t keep your reservation waiting. Drive safe, Seonghwa.”

“Of course,” Seonghwa said smoothly, nodding toward the front door.

You paused mid-step, turning to him with a raised brow. “You’re driving?”

“I always do,” he replied, already pulling the keys from his pocket. “Why? Unless you’d rather drive yourself?”

You huffed softly, walking past him toward the front door. “Just try not to kill us.”

“I’ll do my best,” he quipped, following you outside.

The chrome silver sports car parked in the driveway was unmistakably his—sleek, polished, and oozing with understated wealth, much like its owner.

Seonghwa stepped ahead to open the passenger door for you, a gentlemanly gesture that caught you off guard. You slid into the seat without comment, the faint scent of leather and his cologne enveloping you.

Moments later, he was in the driver’s seat, starting the car with a low purr of the engine.

“This should be interesting,” he murmured, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eyes before shifting the car into gear and pulling out of the driveway. The soft hum of the engine filled the car as Seonghwa drove, his hands relaxed on the steering wheel. You leaned against the window, watching as the glittering skyline of Seoul gradually faded into quieter roads and open spaces.

You frowned, glancing at him. “This doesn’t look like Gangnam or any of the other districts people like you usually frequent. Where are we going?”

He smirked, the faint glow of the dashboard highlighting his sharp profile. “Relax. You’ll like it.”

“Will I?” you shot back, your voice tinged with doubt. “CEOs like you go beyond Seoul?”

“You’re a CEO too,” Seonghwa chuckled, a low, amused sound that made you glance at him again. “Expensive doesn’t always mean good,” he said, his tone teasing. “Seems like the guys you’ve been with before just took you to the basics.”

You blinked, taken aback by his comment. “Excuse me?”

He shrugged, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “What? It’s not my fault if your standards have been... uninspired.”

“Uninspired?” you repeated, your voice incredulous.

“You’ll see what I mean,” he replied smoothly, clearly enjoying your reaction.

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’ll have you know, I’ve been to some of the best places in Seoul.”

“Good for you,” he said, his grin widening. “But tonight, I’m showing you something better.”

You bit back a retort, deciding it wasn’t worth the argument. Instead, you turned your attention back to the window as the car began winding up a steep hill.

Moments later, Seonghwa pulled into a small parking lot at the top. The restaurant in front of you was nothing like what you’d expected. It was simple yet elegant, with warm lanterns casting a golden glow on its wooden façade.

“This is where we’re eating?” you asked, unable to hide your surprise.

“One of my favorites,” he said, stepping out of the car. “Come on.”

You followed him inside, where the soft murmur of conversation and the faint aroma of freshly prepared dishes greeted you. The hostess bowed and led you down a quiet hallway to a private room at the end.

The room was intimate and tastefully decorated, with a low table surrounded by plush cushions. A large window stretched along one wall, offering a breathtaking view of Seoul’s twinkling lights below.

“Not bad, right?” Seonghwa said as he gestured for you to sit.

You hesitated for a moment before settling onto one of the cushions. “The view is… nice,” you admitted grudgingly.

He smirked, taking the seat opposite you. “I told you I know good places. You just had to trust me.”

A server arrived to pour tea and hand you both menus. As you glanced over the options, you couldn’t help stealing a glance at Seonghwa. He looked completely at ease, his sharp features softened by the warm glow of the room. For a brief moment, you wondered if there was more to him than the infuriating person you’d known for years.

As the server returned with the first round of dishes, you took a moment to admire the spread. The plates were elegantly arranged, and the aroma of fresh ingredients filled the room.

“This looks amazing,” you admitted, glancing at Seonghwa.

He smirked, leaning back against the cushion. “Told you I know good spots.”

You picked up your chopsticks and sampled one of the dishes, your eyes widening slightly at the burst of flavor. “Okay, I’ll give you this. The food is actually good.”

He chuckled, watching you with a satisfied expression. “You sound surprised.”

“Well, forgive me for underestimating someone who usually dines at places where the plates are more decorative than functional,” you quipped, a playful edge to your tone.

“Touché,” he replied, reaching for his glass of tea. “But I’ll have you know, I’ve always preferred places like this. The hype about fine dining is overrated.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re saying that after all the times you’ve been photographed at Michelin-starred restaurants?”

He smirked. “Appearances. You know how it is.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t argue. After all, you’d played the same game for the sake of business and image.

As the meal progressed, the conversation turned unexpectedly candid.

“So,” you said, setting your chopsticks down for a moment, “why did you agree to this? The engagement, I mean.”

He met your gaze, his expression calm but serious. “Do I really have a choice? My company’s struggling, and our families are… insistent.”

“You could’ve said no,” you countered, tilting your head slightly.

“And let my parents deal with the fallout?” he said with a dry chuckle. “You know how they are. Saying no wasn’t really an option.”

You sighed, swirling the tea in your cup. “Yeah, I get that. My parents were just as persistent.”

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again, his tone quieter. “What about you? Why didn’t you refuse?”

You hesitated, the memory of his parents’ heartfelt words at brunch flashing through your mind. “They’ve always been kind to me,” you admitted. “I couldn’t stand the thought of letting them down when they’re already dealing with so much.”

He studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. “You really care about them, huh?”

You shrugged, uncomfortable with the shift in the conversation. “They were always good to me. That’s all.”

The server returned with dessert, a delicate plate of mochi and a pot of freshly brewed tea. Seonghwa gestured toward the dish. “Try the matcha one. It’s their specialty.”

You picked one up and took a small bite, nodding in approval. “Not bad.”

He laughed softly. “Not bad is high praise coming from you.”

You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

As the meal wrapped up, Seonghwa glanced at the time and stood. “Ready to head back?”

You nodded, following him out to the car. The night air was crisp, and the stars were faintly visible against the dark sky.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you glanced at him as he adjusted the rearview mirror. “You didn’t drink tonight,” you noted.

He flashed a quick grin. “Someone had to drive.”

You smirked. “Responsible and considerate. Who knew?”

He chuckled as he pulled out of the parking lot, the car humming softly as it began the descent back down the hill. “Don’t get used to it.”

The drive was quiet but not unpleasant. You found yourself stealing glances at him, surprised by the unexpected side of Seonghwa you’d seen tonight. He seemed focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel, but his presence filled the quiet space between you.

“You’re awfully quiet,” he remarked after a while, glancing at you briefly before returning his attention to the road.

“Just… thinking,” you replied, shifting slightly in your seat.

He arched an eyebrow. “About what?”

You hesitated, unsure if you wanted to share your thoughts. “About tonight,” you said vaguely.

He chuckled softly, his lips curling into a small smile. “What about tonight? The food? The view? Or… me?”

You shot him a look, your cheeks warming slightly. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late,” he teased, the smirk not leaving his face.

Rolling your eyes, you turned your attention to the window, watching the city lights grow brighter as you neared Seoul. “I was just surprised, that’s all. Tonight wasn’t what I expected.”

“In a good way, I hope?” he asked, his tone suddenly less teasing and more curious.

You didn’t answer immediately, considering your words carefully. “It was… different. I’ll leave it at that.”

He let out a low laugh, shaking his head. “Always so guarded. You haven’t changed much.”

The comment made you stiffen slightly, your gaze snapping back to him. “And you think you know me so well?”

“I’ve known you for years, Y/N,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “Maybe not everything about you, but enough to know how you are.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, stirring memories you’d long tried to bury. Memories of the nights you’d spent together in college, and the way he’d brushed it off as though it meant nothing.

You looked away, your voice quiet. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

The silence that followed was thick with unspoken tension, but Seonghwa didn’t push further.

As the car turned onto your family’s driveway, the mansion loomed ahead, its windows glowing warmly against the night. He pulled to a smooth stop near the front entrance, cutting the engine.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said, your voice a little more composed as you unbuckled your seatbelt.

He nodded, leaning back in his seat. “Anytime.”

You reached for the door handle but paused, glancing back at him. “Why did you take me there?”

He looked at you, his gaze steady. “Because I thought you deserved a real dinner, not something staged for appearances.”

The sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, you weren’t sure how to respond.

“Goodnight, Seonghwa,” you said finally, stepping out of the car before he could say anything else.

As you walked toward the door, you could feel his gaze on you, lingering like a question you weren’t ready to answer.

-x-x-x-

The week flew by in a whirlwind of meetings and deadlines, and before you knew it, Friday evening had arrived. You found yourself standing in front of your closet, deliberating on what to wear to Yeosang’s 30th birthday party.

The party was being held at Mingi’s bar, a sleek and exclusive venue that was a favorite among your social circle. Yeosang, who you had known since he was still crawling around in diapers, had insisted on a lively celebration, and you weren’t about to miss it.

You finally settled on a fitted, navy cocktail dress with subtle sequins that shimmered under the light, pairing it with silver heels. After one final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your clutch and headed out.

When you arrived, the bar was already buzzing with energy. A live DJ played upbeat music, and laughter and chatter filled the air. The space had been reserved entirely for the party, with a section of tables arranged for gifts and a custom cake shaped like a stethoscope and a scalpel—a nod to Yeosang’s career. His family owned a chain of hospitals and he was a fourth year resident in neurosurgery. His mother was the doctor that took care of your mom’s pregnancy with you and your twin.

“Y/N!”

You turned to see Yeosang himself, looking dashing in a tailored suit. He greeted you with a wide smile, pulling you into a warm hug.

“Happy birthday, Yeosang,” you said, handing him a small, elegantly wrapped gift.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you!” He beamed, placing the gift on the table before turning back to you. “You look amazing, by the way. Are you planning to steal the spotlight from me tonight?”

You laughed. “Hardly. This is your night, doctor.”

As you exchanged a few more pleasantries, Hongjoong appeared beside you, his arm draped casually over your shoulder. “There you are,” he said. “I thought you’d back out last minute.”

“Not this time,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It’s Yeosang’s 30th. How could I miss it?”

“Good,” Yeosang said, grinning. “Now, go grab a drink and have fun. You work too much, Y/N.”

You chuckled, nodding as you made your way to the bar.

At the counter, you spotted Nari sitting beside Yunho, her cheeks flushed as she laughed at something he had said. Yunho caught sight of you and waved.

“Y/N!” he called out. “Join us!”

You smiled and approached, Nari immediately scooting over to make room.

“Hi, Ms. Y/N,” Nari said cheerfully, her tone more relaxed than usual. “Isn’t this place amazing?”

“It is,” you replied, ordering a drink. “Mingi always outdoes himself. You don’t need to use honorifics with me, Nari, we’re not at work.”

Nari nodded with a smile. “I’ll try.”

As you sipped your cocktail, a familiar voice behind you made you turn.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Seonghwa said, his tone teasing.

He was dressed sharply, as always, in a dark blazer and slacks that complemented his broad shoulders. His hair was slightly tousled, giving him a more casual yet polished look.

“Seonghwa,” you acknowledged coolly, raising your glass slightly. “Surprised you made it.”

“Why? Because I’m such a workaholic?” he replied, smirking. “Even I take breaks occasionally, Ms. CEO.”

“Rare, but good to know,” you said, turning your attention back to your drink.

Hongjoong appeared moments later, clapping Seonghwa on the back. “Come on, man. Let’s go grab a drink and join the others.”

Seonghwa gave you a lingering glance before following Hongjoong into the crowd.

As the night went on, the music grew louder, and the atmosphere became more spirited. You found yourself chatting with old friends and acquaintances, laughing and catching up. But every now and then, you felt Seonghwa’s gaze on you from across the room, a quiet intensity that was impossible to ignore.

The music pulsed through the bar, the crowd thickening as more guests arrived. You were just about to grab another drink when you noticed a familiar face making his way toward you. Jaehwan.

“Y/N,” he greeted you with a bright smile, his presence as confident as ever. “Long time no see.”

You tensed slightly but masked it with a smile, trying to keep things cordial. “Jaehwan. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Yeosang and I go way back, you know? We work together now,” he said with a casual shrug, his dark eyes glimmering with a hint of amusement. “And with you being here, it’s the perfect chance to catch up. Can I get you a drink?”

You didn’t particularly want to spend more time with him, but you couldn’t exactly brush him off. “I’m good, thanks.”

He raised an eyebrow at your response, clearly not used to being turned down. “Oh, come on. Just one drink. For old times’ sake?”

You hesitated. The history you shared with Jaehwan was complicated. You had been together for years, but it was always an exhausting cycle of breaking up and making up, seeing other people in the middle, until one day, you simply couldn’t do it anymore.

“Honestly, Jaehwan, I’m not interested in reminiscing right now,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light but firm. “I’m just here to enjoy the party.”

Jaehwan didn’t seem put off by your words. Instead, his grin only grew. “You’re still as beautiful as ever, you know?” He leaned in just a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. “I’ve seen you in the news and in interviews, but you’re even more stunning in person.”

Your eyes flicked away, trying to avoid the lingering gaze that made you uncomfortable. “Thanks,” you said, though you didn’t quite mean it. “I should get back to Yeosang.”

Before you could step away, Jaehwan reached out, gently placing a hand on your arm. “You know, I never understood why we ended things. We were so good together, Y/N.” His voice was soft, almost coaxing, as though trying to reopen a door you had carefully shut.

You stiffened, feeling your chest tighten. “We weren’t good together. Not in the long run.”

Jaehwan’s expression faltered slightly, but only for a second. “You’re still holding onto that, huh?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and frustration. “I thought we were past it. You never gave me a real chance to explain.”

You looked him square in the eyes, your heart racing. “There’s nothing to explain, Jaehwan. We both know how it ended. And why.”

His face softened for a moment, the charm slipping, replaced by something more genuine. “I was an idiot, Y/N. I know that now. I shouldn’t have played with your feelings like I did.” He paused, searching your face as if trying to read you. “But I’m here now. If you want to talk, start fresh... I’m open to it.”

You exhaled slowly, feeling your frustration rise again. You’d put so much energy into moving on from him, and here he was, trying to pull you back into his orbit. “I don’t want to start fresh, Jaehwan. I’ve moved on. I’m not interested in going backwards.”

His face tightened, though his smile never completely disappeared. “That’s a shame. I always thought we had something special.”

You shook your head, stepping back slightly, creating some distance. “We did. But that was a long time ago.”

As you took a step back to leave the conversation behind, Jaehwan called out, his voice softer than before. “I’ll always be here if you change your mind, Y/N. Don’t forget that.”

You turned on your heel, walking toward the other side of the bar, not wanting to hear any more. It had been a long time since you’d seen him, but the feelings his presence stirred up were all too familiar—frustration, confusion, and that lingering sense of unresolved tension. But you reminded yourself that it was okay. It was okay to feel whatever you felt. Six years of being with someone is a long time.

Meanwhile, across the bar, Seonghwa had noticed the exchange from a distance. He stood talking to Mingi, San, and Jongho, but his eyes kept flicking over to where you were conversing with Jaehwan.

“Who was that guy with Y/N? Seems familiar.” Seonghwa asked casually, though there was a slight edge to his tone.

Mingi followed his gaze. “Oh, that’s Jaehwan. He’s a doctor, works with Yeosang. He and Y/N used to date... for a long time, actually.”

Seonghwa’s lips tightened. “Oh. That was the guy?” He knew you were dating someone previously, but he didn’t really ask Hongjoong for any details before, and Hongjoong never told him anything about it. You kept your relationship strictly private, so there were no articles about this either,

San, ever the one to offer the juicy details, spoke up. “Yeah, they were on and off for years. Six years, I think. But they finally broke up for good. Y/N’s pretty done with him.”

Seonghwa’s gaze darkened as he watched Jaehwan take a step closer to you to talk to you again, leaning in just a bit too much for his liking. “I see. And he thinks he has a chance?”

Jongho raised an eyebrow, surprised by the fact that Seonghwa was concerned about you. “Sounds like it. But I wouldn’t worry too much, Seonghwa. Y/N doesn’t seem interested in going back down that road.”

Seonghwa didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still trained on you, the lines of his jaw tightening ever so slightly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” he muttered under his breath, his focus now entirely on the conversation unfolding between you and Jaehwan.

You were trying to shake off the lingering tension from your conversation with Jaehwan when you turned to the bartender and ordered a blowjob shot, hoping the sweet, creamy taste would ease your nerves.

Jaehwan, however, wasn’t finished. He leaned in again, the subtle scent of cologne still lingering around him. "I still don't understand, Y/N," he said with a low chuckle. "You and I could make it work again. I mean, we've always had chemistry, right?"

You gave him a tight smile, the first sip of the shot barely numbing the irritation bubbling in your chest. "Jaehwan, I told you already. I don’t think this is going to work out. Let’s just leave it at that."

But Jaehwan wasn't ready to let go. "Come on, you can’t just throw away everything we had. I know you still feel something, Y/N." His hand brushed your arm, a touch too familiar, and you fought the urge to pull away.

Seonghwa had enough, and he made his way through the crowd. He moved with purpose, his sharp gaze landing on you and Jaehwan, his posture stiff with a quiet authority that demanded attention.

Jaehwan, oblivious to Seonghwa's growing irritation, smiled as he leaned a little closer to you. "I know you and I had our issues, but—"

Seonghwa’s voice interrupted him, smooth yet firm. "I think you’ve had enough time with my fiancée."

You froze, Jaehwan blinking in surprise. “Fiancée?” He glanced from Seonghwa to you, confusion and curiosity in his eyes. “Wait, since when are you two—”

Without waiting for a response, Seonghwa took a step forward, his eyes never leaving Jaehwan. But it was his attention on you that made your heart skip a beat. As you took another sip of the shot, a small smear of whipped cream lingered on your bottom lip.

Seonghwa noticed, and before you could react, he reached forward, his thumb gently brushing against your lower lip to wipe away the cream. His touch was tender but purposeful, his gaze never leaving yours.

Jaehwan’s eyes widened in disbelief, clearly caught off guard by the intimate gesture. "What the hell?" he muttered under his breath, his posture stiffening as he tried to regain some control of the situation. “Who are you, again?”

Seonghwa’s voice was cool, yet there was a hint of something protective behind it. "I’m Park Seonghwa. Y/N’s fiancé." He didn’t give Jaehwan a chance to respond before adding, "We haven’t made our relationship public yet."

Jaehwan’s gaze flicked to your hand, taking note of the lack of a ring. "But… there’s no ring," he remarked, his voice edged with confusion. "Is this some kind of… business arrangement?"

Seonghwa’s lips curved into a slight smirk, the tension between them almost palpable. "Like I said, our relationship isn’t public yet," he said coolly, his eyes flicking to you for a moment before returning to Jaehwan. "We’re keeping things under wraps for now."

Jaehwan stood there, stunned and silent, his gaze shifting from Seonghwa back to you, as if trying to piece together the situation. He clearly hadn’t expected this turn of events, and his earlier confidence had evaporated, replaced by a mix of surprise and frustration.

You, on the other hand, found yourself caught in a strange moment of both relief and discomfort. Seonghwa’s intervention had put an end to Jaehwan’s persistence, but it also dragged you into a deeper web of lies you weren’t sure you were ready to untangle.

"Well," Jaehwan said after a long pause, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, "I’ll let you two be, then. Enjoy the party, Y/N." With that, he turned and walked off, leaving you and Seonghwa alone once again.

The atmosphere between you and Seonghwa felt heavy, and as much as you wanted to keep a cool, composed exterior, you couldn’t shake the tension in the air. Seonghwa had taken control of the situation, but now, it seemed like there were even more unspoken words hanging between you two.

Seonghwa didn’t immediately speak, but when he did, his voice was quieter, almost amused. "You’re welcome."

You shot him a look, not sure whether you should thank him or be frustrated. "What was that all about?"

Seonghwa shrugged, his expression unreadable. "He was getting too comfortable. You shouldn’t have to deal with that."

You couldn’t argue with that, though it still left a bad taste in your mouth. "You didn’t have to step in like that."

He tilted his head, his eyes softening for a brief moment. "I know, but I wanted to. And I’ll do it again if I have to."

You let out a small sigh, your heart fluttering in a way that confused you. The night wasn’t what you expected, but somehow, you weren’t sure you minded it as much as you thought you would.

Seonghwa turned toward the bar, signaling for another drink. "Come on, you need to enjoy the rest of the party. And besides, you can’t have your ex running around ruining your night."

Two shots later, followed by a series of light-hearted conversations with various people, and the buzz from the alcohol was finally starting to set in. The warmth spread through your body, making your head feel lighter, the edges of your thoughts blurring slightly. You leaned back in your seat, your laughter ringing a little louder than you intended, but for once, you didn’t mind. You could feel the weight of the night slowly drifting away, the constant tension easing off your shoulders.

Realizing you needed a break, you excused yourself from the crowd and made your way to the restroom. The cool air of the bar’s hallway seemed to clear your head for a moment, and when you returned, you didn’t feel quite as dizzy as before. You spotted the balcony just ahead, where a few people were gathered, some leaning over the railing, smoking and chatting. The fresh air felt good against your skin, and you welcomed the solitude, a brief reprieve from the noise inside.

You pulled out your phone, unlocking it and glancing at the screen. Yeri’s message was waiting for you.

Yeri: How’s everything going? Are you okay?

You couldn’t help but smile at her caring tone. You quickly typed your response:

You: I’m good. Just needed some air. It’s been a lot tonight, but I’m managing. I'll tell you everything later.

After sending the message, you leaned against the railing, letting the cool breeze calm your senses. The bustling sounds from the bar seemed far away, and you closed your eyes for a moment, letting the moment of peace sink in.

But of course, peace never lasted long.

You heard footsteps approaching, and before you could turn around, Seonghwa’s voice reached you, smooth and just a little concerned. "You okay out here?"

You opened your eyes and glanced at him. He stood just behind you, his posture relaxed but his eyes watching you closely, as though taking stock of your every movement. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or just the sheer intensity of the situation, but you felt suddenly bold—bold in a way you hadn’t felt in a while.

"Yeah, just needed a break from all the...," you trailed off, glancing back towards the loud, crowded bar. "Everything." You laughed softly, then, almost to yourself. "It’s kind of overwhelming."

Seonghwa nodded, stepping closer, the space between you narrowing slightly. "I get it. But you should be careful. You’ve had a few drinks tonight." His voice was softer now, gentler, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes.

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze directly, a flicker of challenge lighting your chest. "What, you think I can’t handle a couple of drinks?" The words were a little sharper than you intended, but the alcohol had given you the courage to tease him in a way you wouldn't normally do.

He smirked, his lips curving upward in that way that made your heart skip. "I’m not worried about you handling them," he replied, voice low and laced with something unreadable. "I’m just worried you might get too comfortable."

Your breath caught for a moment. It wasn’t the first time you had noticed how close he was now, his presence almost tangible, like he was becoming a part of the space you occupied. The air between you seemed to thicken, and for a moment, it was just the two of you, the buzz of the party a distant hum.

"Too comfortable?" you repeated, feeling the boldness rise within you like a wave. You took a step closer to him, unconsciously closing the distance, your eyes scanning his face, trying to decipher the sudden shift in his expression. "And why would that be a problem?"

Seonghwa’s eyes flickered down to your lips before returning to meet your gaze. The tension between you two felt palpable, like an invisible thread pulling you closer despite the divide you tried to maintain. He didn’t answer immediately, his silence only making the moment more charged, more electric.

"You’re a lot different when you’re not all business," he said quietly, the playful edge of his voice barely masking the undercurrent of something else. "Maybe I’m starting to see the real you, Y/N."

Your heart raced at the comment, and you felt your breath hitch in your chest. The alcohol had loosened your inhibitions, but there was something about the way Seonghwa spoke, something about the way he was looking at you, that made you forget for a moment why you were supposed to stay guarded.

You leaned in slightly, your eyes locked with his, and a teasing smile spread across your face. "Maybe you like what you’re seeing."

The words came out almost too easily, the playful challenge in your tone not entirely fake. You could feel your pulse quickening, the thrill of the moment swirling around you.

Seonghwa's eyes darkened just a shade, his lips curling into a smile that was both amused and intrigued. "I think you're right," he said, his voice low, as though he was daring you to take the next step, to push the boundaries further.

For a heartbeat, you two stood there, neither of you moving, the tension thick and humming between you. You had no idea where this was going, no clue what would happen next, but you knew one thing for sure: you were no longer just playing along. Tonight felt different. And the way Seonghwa was looking at you—it seemed like he felt it too.

The moment hung in the air, electric and heady, as the rest of the world seemed to fade into the background.  You were suddenly aware of how close Seonghwa was, how much you could feel the heat of his body, the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled deeply. Without thinking, you moved, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer until there was barely any space between the two of you. His breath hitched slightly at the closeness, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.

"Why are we always in this situation when we've had a couple of drinks?" you asked, your voice quieter now, a bit more vulnerable. You could feel the weight of your words, the tension that had been building between you and him finally reaching its peak.

Seonghwa took a deep breath, his hands resting gently on your waist, and you felt a surge of something stronger—something that made you tilt your head just slightly, brushing your lips against his. "You're not going to want me if I make a move," you said, your voice lower, almost a warning.

"I've always wanted you," he whispered against your mouth.

For a moment, everything seemed to stand still—the world, the music, the people inside the bar—all faded away, leaving only the two of you standing in the cool night air. But then, just as quickly, you pulled back, your breath unsteady, your heart pounding harder than it had a moment ago.

"I'm not falling for that," you said, your voice strained, almost harsh, as if you were trying to distance yourself from the vulnerability that had crept in.

Seonghwa’s expression faltered slightly, and he reached out to touch your arm, as if trying to stop you from pulling away further. But you were already taking a step back, and you could see the hurt flash in his eyes, the confusion.

"I don’t want to resent you more," you whispered, your voice small, almost fragile. The words were like a knife to your chest, and as soon as they left your lips, you regretted saying them. The hurt was suddenly evident in your eyes, and the alcohol that had fueled your boldness before was now making everything seem more raw, more real.

Seonghwa’s eyes widened, and his lips parted as if he wanted to say something. But no words came, just the heavy silence that fell between you two. For a moment, you thought he might try to reach for you again, but you turned away, already feeling the sting of regret that followed your confession.

You didn’t wait for him to speak. You just turned and left him standing there, the cool night air around you suddenly feeling colder than it had before. You didn’t know what you expected from him, but what you knew for sure was that you needed to get away from this—away from the tension, the confusion, and the feelings that had begun to resurface.

You quickly made your way back to the entrance of the bar, trying to keep your composure. As you stepped inside, you spotted Hongjoong in the crowd, chatting with a few people near the bar. The moment he saw you, his eyes softened with concern.

"Ready to go?" he asked, his voice gentle.

You nodded, trying to mask the storm of emotions swirling inside you. "Yeah. Let's go home," you said, your voice quieter than usual. You didn’t look back at Seonghwa, though you could feel his presence lingering in the back of your mind, heavy and unrelenting.

As you and Hongjoong made your way out of the bar after saying your goodbyes to your friends, you tried to shake off the weight of what had just happened. You didn’t know how to feel about Seonghwa anymore, nor about the admission that had slipped from your lips.

-x-x-x-

End of Part One.

THIS IS SO GOOD! I CAN’T WAIT FOR THE NEXT PART! <3

Shadows Behind Shelves (PART 1)

SUMMARY | You, a literature professor turned governess, is settling into your role at the Jeong castle and developing feelings for both the lord, Yunho, and his cousin, Jongho.  You soon learn that the castle is haunted by a spirit who desires to be resurrected and take over your body.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Reader x Jongho

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

GENRE |  Smut, historical fantasy au, paranormal, dark academia, fluff, angst, drama

CONTENT/WARNINGS |  mentions of death/curses/resurrection, a creepy ghost, fingering, clothes ripping, oral sex, unprotective sex (wrap it up!), lovemaking instead of fucking (more to come in part 2)

LENGTH | 15,012 words

TAGLIST |  --

NETWORKS |  @ksmutsociety @illusionnet @cromernet @wonderlandnet @k-vanity @othersideoutlawsnetwork

AUTHOR’S NOTE |  Soooooooo… This is for @ksmutsociety network's The Velvet Vault event! I'm looking forward to reading all the participant's fics since we all worked so hard for this. It was nice to work with everyone and hype each other and exchange ideas. Love you folks!

Here's part 1 of this 2-part fic lol. It was getting too long (and the brain stopped braining at some point). I hope it's engaging enough that you return for part 2, which is in the works! And yes, more smut in part 2 (for Jongho and maybe a threesome LOL)

Thank you @cheolism for the beautiful banner, @hobeemin for the amazing moodboard (below) to keep my inspo in check and @lovetaroandtaemin for the beta-read as always! You guys are amazing folk!

Please like, comment, reblog. I love you all 💚

“Well, I’m finally here,” you mutter as you look at the enormous castle that looms overhead. 

You had been traveling to get here for some time and your body ached from the long journey. However, now that you were in the presence of the magnificent building, you felt like you couldn’t stop and rest just yet. You thought it was weird when a reclusive lord wrote to you, a professor at a prestigious university, and requested that you be his children’s governess. He must’ve thought you were qualified because you were a literature professor and had read a lot of books, which were important for teaching children. However, there were no references, and no one had heard of the family or this lord that was writing the letter. Yet, you decided to take the job for your own personal reasons.

You were leaving your life from the modern world and everything that was associated with it.

It wasn’t hard for you to leave everything behind. You didn’t have friends, and no one would come to look for you if you disappeared. When you were not teaching students, you spent your life in the company of books. They were the only thing that made you happy and the only things that had stayed constant throughout your life. That was the main reason you agreed to work for this strange lord, because you had heard that his castle was filled with the greatest works of literature.

As you approached the front doors, you noticed how the windows were dark, no light was coming through. Was everyone asleep? The castle seemed eerie in the night, and you had a nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. You tried to shake those feelings away, knowing that this was not the time to get spooked. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to sleep.

Upon arriving at the front door, you knocked and patiently awaited a response. Your heart raced, anticipation gnawing at you. After no one answered, you tried again, knocking louder this time. You wouldn’t have traveled this far without wanting an answer. On the verge of quitting and finding rest, the door, as if beckoning, slowly opened, urging you to enter. You paused, torn between entering and leaving, ultimately deciding that it was rude to depart without a word.

“Hello, is anyone home?” You shouted as you walked inside, hoping someone would answer.

No one came to greet you, but the sound of the wind echoed in the empty halls. There was no need to be scared. You were hardly scared of things that you didn’t understand, but this place had an air of mystery that made you uneasy. It felt like there was someone else in the house, watching your every move. The only lights came from the torches along the wall, but their light did little to ease the darkness.

“Lord Jeong, are you here?” You called out. You knew it was late, and he might be asleep, but you needed someone to answer you. “My name is Y/N. I am the new governess that you hired.”

Again, no one answered you, and you felt a chill run down your spine. You had hoped that someone would’ve met you, but the lack of answers and the emptiness of the castle made you uneasy. You made your way down the hall to see if there was anyone awake. Maybe the servants were still awake, doing last-minute chores before going to bed. You hoped to find someone that could tell you where you could sleep.

You didn’t have a plan or anywhere else to go.

As you walked through the hallways, you noticed how the walls were lined with portraits. The people in the paintings all looked so beautiful, even if they were old and dust had covered their faces. However, it was odd that the portraits seemed to stretch out endlessly, even though the hallway was not very long. You thought about wiping the dust off to see the faces, but you decided not to since they were not yours.

Your eyes wandered down and saw the many artifacts that were also lined up on the walls. There were old swords, shields, and even some strange-looking guns. As a literature professor, you couldn’t help but be curious about what those weapons were used for. The stories of these things would make for interesting research.

You were so distracted by the many relics on the walls that you didn’t notice a figure moving swiftly towards you until it was too late. Something cold grabbed onto your arm and you turned to see a pale hand gripping you. You screamed and tried to break free, but the grip was so strong, it was almost as if it was draining the life from your body. You turned and saw the face of a beautiful man, who looked at you with wide eyes.

“You’re not supposed to be here. The doors should’ve been locked,” he said, his voice raspy and low. He had a stern face, his sharp eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you. He wore a fancy suit and looked to be in his late twenties, but his age didn’t match his youthful features.

“I-I’m sorry! I’m the new governess, and the doors just opened by themselves!” You cried. 

The man let go of you and you stepped back, trying to get away from him. You could tell that he was the master of the house, and you didn’t want to anger him. You were not the kind of person to yell at others, especially your employer, but his sudden appearance and tight grip were enough to make anyone lose their composure.

“I’m sorry, Miss. I’m Jeong Yunho, the lord of the castle,” he apologized, his face softening. He seemed to be the kind of person who didn’t speak often, and you found his voice comforting. “It is very late, and I was just startled. I didn’t expect anyone to come to the door at this hour. Please, forgive me for frightening you.”

“It’s fine. I am just a little shaken up,” you said, trying to calm down. You didn’t want to admit it, but his sudden appearance had frightened you. And that said a lot since you were scarcely afraid of anything.

“Come, let’s get you settled,” he gestured to follow him. “I will take you to your room.”

You followed him, still wondering what had just happened. The house was dark, no light was coming from the rooms. You wondered why the lord would keep the lights off at this hour. You also noticed how silent it was. There were no voices, no sounds at all. You didn’t think you had traveled far enough for this place to be abandoned, but it certainly felt that way.

Yunho stopped at a door and opened it. “This will be your room while you are here.”

The room was very elegant, decorated in various shades of blue. There was a large four-poster bed with a canopy, a dresser, a vanity, and a bookshelf. The shelves were full of books, just like the ones you had read. You were relieved to know that there would be something familiar for you to do.

“Please get some sleep,” Yunho nodded at you slowly. “Tomorrow we’ll tour the castle and introduce you to the staff and the children.”

“Thank you, Lord Jeong. Goodnight,” you curtsied and he closed the door behind him, leaving you alone.

You were exhausted, so you quickly took off your shoes and laid down on the bed. The sheets were soft and smelled nice, like fresh laundry. It had been a long day, and you couldn’t wait to fall asleep. As you lay there, you thought about the castle, the servants, and the children. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

As you drifted off to sleep, you could’ve sworn you heard the sound of whispering, as if the voices were coming from the walls themselves.

The next morning, you woke up early, eager to start the day. The first thing you did was get dressed and head downstairs to the dining hall. When you arrived, the servants were already bustling around, preparing the table and setting out the food. They were all wearing the same outfit: black uniforms with white aprons, their hair neatly combed back.

The table was set, and you sat down, waiting for the rest of the household to arrive. Soon, you were joined by Yunho, who greeted you politely. The man was dressed in a black suit, and his hair was perfectly styled. He looked so regal, but his face was emotionless, his mouth pulled into a straight line. He had dark circles under his eyes, making him look older than he was.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. How are you feeling?” He asked. His voice was deep and commanding, but there was no hint of malice in it.

“Good morning, Lord Jeong. I’m well,” you answered. “Is the rest of the household going to join us?”

“They are busy with their own duties,” Yunho responded. “We will tour the castle later today, but I would like to discuss the duties you will have while you are here. First, your primary task will be the education and care of the children. They have not had a governess for a few months and they are at the age where they should learn and be educated.”

“Of course. As a professor of the literary arts, I will make sure to teach them everything they need to know,” you responded. You were excited to have a chance to teach someone, especially young minds. “Will I also be in charge of their daily routines?”

“Yes, their daily routine and their discipline as well,” he continued. “You will have your own schedule and free time, so do not feel as if you are confined to this castle. You are welcome to go out and explore the town or the grounds. There are plenty of beautiful places for you to see. In the meantime, the staff will continue their duties and will help you with anything you need. If you have questions, please do not hesitate to ask.”

“I will, thank you, Lord Jeong,” you said, trying not to let the excitement show in your voice.

“Just call me Yunho,” he said, his face softening a bit.

“Yunho,” you said, testing his name out. You liked the way it sounded.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, let’s begin the tour,” he stood up and led you out of the dining room.

As the two of you walked through the halls, Yunho pointed out different rooms, explaining what they were used for. You saw a drawing room, a sitting room, a parlor, and even a billiard room. There were other rooms as well, but you couldn’t remember what they were. You tried to listen carefully to everything that Yunho was telling you, but your mind was elsewhere. The castle was so grand, and the interior was so intricate.

You had never seen anything like it.

You were shown the ballroom, a music room, and even an observatory. Everything was so grand and it all overwhelmed you. Yunho told you more about his family and the history of the castle. 

You learned that the castle had been built a hundred years ago, when Yunho’s ancestors had moved to this land. The estate had been passed down through generations and was the source of pride for the Jeongs. However, the family had lost many members, and the last one was Yunho’s late wife.

“And this is the grand library,” Yunho said, standing in front of the double doors. The doors were massive, carved with intricate designs. You couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them.

“I can’t wait to see what’s inside,” you said, stepping forward and grabbing the handle.

“No!” Yunho yelled, grabbing your hand and pulling it away from the door. “No one is allowed in the grand library.”

“Why not?” You asked, confused. You were curious about the books and wanted to explore the grand library.

“Those books are too dangerous. They are filled with stories and tales that could corrupt the mind and the soul,” Yunho replied, his tone serious. “They are the reason my late wife is dead.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. How could books be dangerous? You knew there were some books that could be scary, but those were fiction. These were books, not demons or monsters. You didn’t understand why they were kept locked away.

“Please, Miss Y/N. Don’t ask me to open the doors. I’ve lost too much already,” Yunho begged. His eyes were pleading with you.

You didn’t know what to do. You were a scholar of literature, and the idea of being banned from reading books was painful. It was in your nature to be curious, and you wanted to find out why the library was locked. But you didn’t want to upset Yunho or lose the job that you haven’t even started yet.

“There is a smaller library for you to use with the children,” Yunho assured you. “You can read anything in there. Just please, don’t ask me to open these doors again.”

You nodded your head in understanding, and Yunho seemed to relax. You wished you could’ve said something, but it was pointless to argue with him. The mystery of the grand library would remain unknown to you. Still, your mind raced with curiosity. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you needed to see the forbidden books. Perhaps it was because you were a scholar, but you needed to understand. You needed to learn the truth, no matter what the cost.

“Thank you, Yunho. I will keep your advice in mind,” you replied. Your heart raced with thoughts about the library and the possibility of learning the secrets that were hidden behind those doors. As long as you were here, there would be no escaping the desire to learn more. You knew that would get you into trouble someday. That was just a part of who you were.

After finishing the tour, Yunho led you to the children who were outside in the courtyard playing. As you neared the children, you noticed a man in casual clothes who appeared to be a groundskeeper or something of the sort. You noted his appearance, thinking he looked handsome. As you and Yunho entered the courtyard, the children came running to greet him, calling out ‘Daddy!’. Despite his age, Yunho lifted all three children as they tried to hug him and spin them around in his arms. His gaze softened as he embraced each child. His stern demeanor was nowhere to be seen. 

When he put them down, Yunho introduced you as the new governess. The children hid behind their father, whispering to him about how pretty you were. You giggled slightly, finding their reaction endearing, and it made you less nervous about taking the job. Yunho chastised the children, and they soon came out of their hiding, shyly offering you their introductions. Yunho introduced you first to his son, Yujin, who had turned five, then to his daughters, four-year-old Suyeon and three-year-old Sujin. You kneeled and greeted them politely. The children immediately attached themselves to you, clutching to you and introducing themselves. While this wasn’t a simple task for you as someone new, you could feel their excitement as they began to speak to you about their interests and their favorite toys.

Yunho sent them off to play once more after confirming when their lessons would start the following morning. The man you assumed to be a groundskeeper watched the interaction between you, the kids, and Yunho. As the children ran off and resumed their playing, the young man stepped forward, offering you a friendly smile. You watched curiously, noticing his youthful appearance. He couldn’t have been that much older than yourself.

“Welcome, miss,” he said. “I’m Choi Jongho, the lord’s cousin and the groundskeeper here. Though I help out with other matters within the castle as well.”

“Nice to meet you, Jongho,” you smiled, extending a hand out which the young man took firmly, shaking it. You couldn’t imagine that a man of his age could maintain a property as extensive as the Jeong castle. “I hope we will get to spend some time together since I’m the new governess for the Jeong children. Are you their only groundskeeper?”

Jongho released your hand with a small chuckle. “I suppose I am. It’s not a simple job, but someone has to take care of things here, am I right? Besides, the estate means everything to Mr. Jeong, and I care deeply about it as well. He trusts me fully, and that’s a blessing.”

The young man’s tone was genuine and laced with kindness. Jongho carried himself with an ease that reassured you as well. Something about the young man felt safe.

“He’s very nice and has already been treating me quite well,” you mentioned as Yunho joined you two, the children having returned to their previous activities, oblivious to the world around them.

“The staff here all admire and respect Lord Yunho, as he deserves,” Jongho said. “The children are fortunate to have a father so dedicated to them.”

You glanced at the lord who held a similar expression to Jongho, the two staring back at the children, no doubt sharing the same thoughts. You would be lying if you didn’t admit the warmth spreading in your chest from the image. Yunho was gentle with the children, and it made you feel good about taking the job despite the secrets locked within the castle. You still didn’t quite understand what the books could contain, but chose to ignore the curiosity for the time being. Yunho already trusted you enough to open up, revealing some of his past, even if it did spark more questions than answers.

The three of you remained in the courtyard watching the children until they came running toward you again, nearly jumping into their father’s arms. Yunho spun them in circles before lifting Sujin and carrying her back towards the house.

“I better start getting Sujin cleaned for her supper,” he said to the remaining party. “Come on, children.”

Sujin was quick to wiggle in her father’s grasp, as she clearly wanted to walk. “Papa! Down!” she giggled as Yunho lowered her and followed her and the children back inside the castle.

Jongho and you watched as the Jeongs walked off, chuckling slightly in the wake of the energetic kids and Yunho. When Yunho’s silhouette had disappeared, you looked back at Jongho with a bright smile on your face, admiring how the sun hit his skin to accentuate his handsome features. The young man was incredibly attractive, and you hoped you’d get to spend more time with him while working at the castle.

“Well then,” Jongho rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and shifted his stance, “I will go back to tending the grounds. If you need me for anything, you just have to ask. It’s nice to meet you, Miss Y/N. I really hope we get to spend some time together in the future. Take care of yourself.”

Before you had the chance to respond, Jongho placed his hat on his head and promptly headed for the gardens. There was a skip in his steps, something you couldn’t help but notice as you watched him make his way through the expansive yard. For a man that was around your age and appearance, you expected him to be a little less excited about his chores and duties, especially given the size and maintenance requirements. You almost expected him to have complained a little about being a servant, but he didn’t appear to have any issue with it. This intrigued you even more, giving you reason to pay him more attention in the coming days.

As the last rays of sunlight faded, the maids began setting tables for dinner. With Yunho preoccupied with the children and Jongho busy elsewhere, you decided to explore the grounds for some fresh air. The castle grounds were spacious, and it was important to take some time to explore the vast space. Besides, if you were going to be staying at the castle for some time, it was good to familiarize yourself with everything. You didn’t want to get lost in the castle, since you would no doubt become easily disoriented among the winding halls. The grounds also would be the best place to familiarize yourself. You should have started earlier since now the sun was fading and darkness was settling into place. You hoped to be back within an hour as dinnertime was approaching fast.

Despite the castle being eerily ominous and quite frightening when you saw it last night, it looked gorgeous bathed in sunlight during the day. You couldn’t resist letting your imagination roam about as you strolled around the premises. You imagined a heroine escaping through the open space while wearing a beautiful silk dress. You envisioned her making her way across a stone pathway and into an emerald garden filled with vivid plants and flowers. This reminded you that the castle did seem out of place for being located in a dense forest in the mountains, isolated by many miles. It was fascinating and beautiful in the daytime. Now that the sun had fallen below the horizon, and you couldn’t enjoy the sights, it gave the castle a darker feeling.

On your explorations around the castle, you heard noises that sounded like muffled conversations. However, when you’d check, nothing and nobody would be there. Peeking in the windows and circling around the grounds, you heard these strange noises coming from the castle itself. Maybe this wasn’t the best time to explore on your own.

You made your way towards one bench on the property to catch your breath. You were starting to wonder whether the noises you had heard before were perhaps nothing more than simple tricks of the mind or maybe a nearby village. You sat back on the wooden bench with a heavy sigh escaping your chest.

The sounds coming from the castle continued to grow louder. Soon, there would be nothing but utter silence surrounding it again. You thought about making your way back towards the entrance. Yet the mystery of the unknown voices calling out to you kept drawing you back in. You wanted to discover the truth about them. Was there someone or something lingering behind these walls? Was it just an old building creating these peculiar noises? Or had the wind simply picked up slightly to produce such abnormal vibrations? There was no way of telling what had been causing it and you were beginning to wish you hadn’t even considered searching. The only thing left was for you to leave without learning a thing and return safely inside the castle to enjoy the warm fires of the dining area. You stood up but were startled by the sight of a figure that appeared next to the gates and your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Ah!” you gasped in surprise, quickly jumping backwards to avoid falling to the ground. 

You blinked several times, trying to clear away the blurriness from your eyes. Surely, there couldn’t be any person standing there, right? You looked over at the gates again, but there was no one there. You scanned the area for any movement or sign of a living being but could see nothing besides the trees, rocks, and bushes.

This was starting to freak you out. Sure, you knew that this was a possibility when you took the job, but you didn’t think that anything scary could’ve actually occurred at this location. And why were you getting such a creepy vibe from this part of the castle’s property? Something just seemed different about it somehow.

With a firm shake of your head, you straightened your posture and cleared your mind before heading back inside the castle to take your seat for supper. If you were to do any more exploring, it would be done on the next day with a proper guide. Perhaps asking Jongho to tour the entire grounds would not be a bad idea, since he would undoubtedly be more familiar with the details and stories surrounding the castle. For now, you’d eat dinner, bathe yourself and retire to sleep. This was already enough of a scary encounter, but you wouldn’t let it keep you awake at night, especially on the first evening you arrived.

It had been a few weeks since you’ve become a governess for the children. The kids woke you up in a cheerful mood and eager for lessons. You found yourself sitting in the garden again as you read stories with the kids and watched their natural curiosity shining brightly. Yujin and Suyeon seemed excited but also overwhelmed by the amount of information in the books. For now, you preferred keeping the story to short tales, careful to stick to the knowledge level and time frame necessary to keep them interested. There’d be time later to teach them more complex ideas.

It felt good teaching the children and guiding them. They were quick learners and always happy. The weather was perfect and sunny. The roses and the wildflowers that lined the path leading towards the garden swayed softly in the gentle wind. The smell of nature surrounded you as it filled the air with its sweet fragrance. Birds chirped happily, flitting through the trees above the children. All three of them had their gazes pointed towards the book as if they were focused intensely. After you finished the first reading, the three began discussing amongst themselves about what story they would ask for next. You sat quietly with a grin stretched across your lips.

What adorable little devils.

Their enthusiasm inspired you further to be the best teacher you possibly could, determined to always bring out their best traits and encourage their development. Every bit of work counted towards reaching that goal. Once the day’s lesson ended, they skipped back inside the castle and up towards their rooms. You turned around in the direction from which the footsteps had come and watched Yunho’s face as he walked closer towards you; the sun glistening off the gold buttons and linings in his attire. His eyes focused solely upon you.

“How was today’s class?” The question slipped from his lips smoothly.

“Perfect,” you responded. “These kids are so brilliant. I can tell their excitement was genuine.”

“Is that so?” Yunho asked. “Do you enjoy teaching them?”

You nodded quickly. “I definitely do. It’s definitely different teaching children compared to adult students, but I enjoy both. It’s refreshing. When my lessons finish, I look forward to their little questions. It makes the entire process worth it.”

Yunho hummed his response as the sound echoed around the two of you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you and you noticed the corners of his mouth curve slightly upwards. A faint blush formed on his cheeks and you blushed at the realization that he was staring back at you, holding your gaze.

“Would you like to join me in my study?” Yunho asked. “Since we are both professors, you in literature and I in art, perhaps I might entertain you with tales of art and literature from times long forgotten and stories you have yet to hear.”  

A tingle ran down your spine from the seductive tone in which he spoke. Never had you heard Yunho sound like this before, but it seemed as if he was offering an invitation you could not refuse. Not that you would have declined it, either. With an eager nod, you rose and allowed yourself to be escorted towards his study.

As you followed him into the massive room and the double-door was shut behind you, Yunho lit the fireplace, which immediately filled the space with heat. The flame reflected off his glasses, his eyes twinkling in the light. When your attention shifted to the room’s furnishings, you found yourself gazing at the stunning fireplace and intricate gold filigree work. It was breathtaking. You turned back toward him, wanting to ask him about its design and purpose in his home.

His fingers danced gracefully across the leather-bound book that he had retrieved and placed before him on a polished oak table, running the tips of them over the smooth texture. It must have been quite old. Probably there’d be hundreds of pieces of knowledge written inside of that volume which could answer questions, solve problems or even make predictions.

“This book has been handed down through generations in the Jeong line and is very precious. Many members of the Jeongs have read it and learned its contents, adding to its importance.” With a satisfied smile, he slowly lifted his gaze back up towards you, speaking. “Would you like to read some?”

“I would love to,” you whispered breathlessly, barely containing yourself.

Yunho laughed deeply at how eager you sounded. He slid the book towards you and watched as you held onto the book with the care that only a well-loved treasure receives. “Well then, Miss Y/N, I would like to share its contents with you. It’s important to understand its origins and meanings in order to fully appreciate it.”

You examined the worn pages, observing the parchment-colored paper. It was bound with thin leather strips on both sides, revealing intricate designs etched into each page and carefully outlined. This wasn’t just an ordinary journal. It was a journal passed down by the Jeongs from generation to generation and filled with their histories and traditions.

You flipped through the pages carefully, noticing that every single piece contained drawings or diagrams with accompanying text describing their purpose. The picture of a traveler leaving his hometown followed a section entitled ‘Journey’. He stopped in front of an enormous mountain and stared straight ahead into nothingness, while standing still for the longest time. Finally, after a momentary pause, he moved forward and disappeared over the horizon. Under the picture, two simple lines had been inscribed: ‘To journey is to live’.

Then the traveler appeared again on another page; this time he appeared to be riding on the back of a horse. The caption read: ‘Traveling is to expand your horizons’ and under it there were more words in small font size: ‘He who sees the world differently is no stranger, but a friend.’ You chuckled slightly, finding a kindred spirit with those lines written in cursive. It reminded you of your own experiences in college and the fact that everyone saw the world through a different lens.

“What do you think?” Yunho leaned forward a bit and smiled at you with interest, curiosity and an open heart.

“I love it,” you confessed earnestly. Your gaze lowered back towards the open book and its contents while you gently stroked its edges with one hand. “Thank you so much for allowing me the pleasure.”

As soon as you said those words, Yunho laughed again in a sweet tone that warmed your soul and brought a smile to your lips.

“Perhaps you’ll join me again sometime,” his invitation rang clearly in the air as he motioned towards a stack of papers to his left. You couldn’t deny that the prospect made you feel quite excited, and you enthusiastically agreed. You needed no more encouragement, eagerly scanning the book once more before placing it gently upon his table.

“Yunho... are there any more journals you could let me read through?” you questioned carefully as his body relaxed against the leather seat, stretching out and closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

“Possibly,” Yunho replied.

“Please? I promise I won’t go too far into your family secrets,” you joked lightly, causing him to grin widely while shaking his head in amusement.

“We all have our own histories and secrets. Though, you may be free to go through all journals that I possess if it will please you,” he teased playfully as his brown eyes glittered. The smile adorning his handsome face showed affection and perhaps even a hint of a hope that maybe one day you’d want to learn about all of his own hidden desires and passions. But for now, you contented yourself with merely exploring the knowledge held within these priceless volumes.

Before you realized it, an hour had flown by. The sounds outside grew quieter as dusk fell, yet neither you nor Yunho dared to stir. Both lost in thoughts about the history of the Jeongs and their stories, it took you by surprise when the door swung wide open, revealing Jongho in a state of clear discomfort. The corners of his usually bright eyes crinkled up nervously, but, he managed to speak without faltering.

“I... I need to talk to the Lord for a moment,” his voice was hoarse and his speech slower than usual. You could almost feel his anxiety and worry radiating through the room.

“I understand,” you politely excused yourself while leaving the book where it laid before standing up to exit his office. “Thank you again, Yunho. For showing me some of the journals.”

“Certainly,” Yunho replied. He appeared relieved, seemingly happy about being able to assist you. “I hope it will provide enjoyment during the upcoming days.”

With one last appreciative glance, you exited and closed the door.

“You showed her the journals?” Jongho asked once he was certain that you’d be out of earshot, staring at his boss intently. He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Yunho, are you sure-“

“I couldn’t help it,” Yunho muttered. His face darkened briefly, a hint of sadness slipping through the cracks of his typically cheery mask. “I had to. She looks too much like...”

His statement trailed off abruptly, but the implication was crystal clear to everyone within hearing distance. They knew what had been running through his mind. The young woman resembled so much of his dead lover. She was a spitting image, reminding him of those few precious days in which he was young and naïve, inexperienced in life and its cruelty, and thought love could overcome anything.

“I’m surprised that Miss Y/N looks like her,” Jongho whispered softly. “How is it possible?”

“I’m sure that her soul is back now to stay,” Yunho breathed deeply and stared straight ahead, his hands fidgeting. “No longer would we have to hear her restless soul wander and whisper among us, crying out our names.”

“You can’t possibly think of bringing her back. It’s too dangerous, not to mention it will be her end,” Jongho argued. “What if things go wrong and she never becomes alive? Are you going to sit idly by and wait forever? For something that could take place never? And if the spell is successful, do you expect Miss Y/N to walk alongside you without questions? You’re thinking of trading another soul to bring back your wife. Would she not end up suffering the same fate, if not worse?”

Yunho looked up at Jongho coldly. “Do you not understand how much it means to me to have her alive again? Even if only for a short period. She deserved it. We could have been so happy if not for everything else.”

“So you’re willing to hurt someone else in exchange for the woman you loved, hoping that maybe things will go back to the way things used to be,” Jongho continued his plea, “the late lady is gone. Miss Y/N deserves the opportunity of a complete life, free of any attachments from the past and all the horrible memories attached to them. You can’t expect to use those forbidden books to bring her back to life.” 

“I cannot continue on without her,” Yunho hissed. His brows knit together furiously as he fought against the rising anger within him. “Our children need their mother, my family and our legacy needs their daughter-in-law, and most importantly, I need my true love to return to me.”

“Think for a second, Yunho. Do you seriously believe the spirits of your children’s mother would be okay with sacrificing an innocent person to resurrect their dead mother?”

“You know what her ghost wants, Jongho,” Yunho groaned, dropping his hands to his sides in defeat.

“Miss Y/N isn’t Lady Ara,” Jongho reminded him. “Lady Ara and Miss Y/N have completely different backgrounds, interests and personalities. Even if they share physical appearances, that is all.”

“I am aware. Believe me,” Yunho looked away with frustration evident in his voice. “I know that my wife is gone and that Miss Y/N is alive and well...”

“Yunho, why don’t you just fall for Miss Y/N instead and start over instead of hurting an innocent and beautiful person? Lady Ara’s soul may be gone, but that does not mean that you cannot find happiness without her again,” Jongho added quietly. “The children seem to love her, the staff love her. And I─”

He trailed off and shook his head slowly. Silence stretched between them as they considered everything before them.

“Yunho,” Jongho muttered eventually. “Think this through again before making any decisions. Even the dead are allowed a proper resting place. Is resurrecting their late mother really the best thing to do, especially if they cannot see or feel their mother, anyway? At least Miss Y/N is a breathing person that’s right in front of you.”

“I-I know,” Yunho’s gaze dropped to the ground. He tried to collect his scattered thoughts. A part of him already believed Jongho’s words. A bigger part, however, wanted his wife and only his wife. He could still vividly imagine his late wife’s soft smile and laughter, her warmth against his chest and kisses that reminded him of sunrises. Nothing compared to the love and affection she showed him and their little family. Everything in him ached with longing for her touch, her kiss, and her embrace again. If his spells worked successfully, she’d come back to him whole again and to spend the remaining years of his life together with him in bliss.

Yet another quiet voice in his head warned him against those foolish notions and dreams. How could it possibly be wrong when a pure soul was sacrificed to bring back the woman that was the cause for his and his children’s sorrows? Then again, was he truly sure he would gain exactly the results he desired and hoped for? Was bringing his dead wife back really the answer? Could it really fix their broken household? Or would he be nothing but a monster, bringing pain to others again?

“Does her ghost still haunt you?” Jongho probed as his friend remained deep in thought, hands interlocked before him.

“Yes, of course. All day long, I hear her pleas and whimpers,” the expression on Yunho’s face fell entirely at Jongho’s response. He sounded terribly drained. “Even after these three years? I’m glad that the staff can’t see her but the children... I’m sure they’re so scared.”

“Oh, she won’t go after the children, would she?” Jongho questioned worriedly. “Surely not.”

“Yes. You know, the only way that we can appease her and put her soul to rest,” Yunho mumbled. His eyes filled with regret as he sighed. “She... She won’t leave us alone unless we get her back.”

“Give yourself more time and think about things properly again. If nothing works, then so be it. If anything, let Lady Ara’s soul have peace and find its way towards eternal rest,” Jongho reminded him as kindly as he could. “I’ll look through the forbidden books again and write up a report for you.”

Yunho blinked at him blankly for a second. Slowly, understanding began dawning on him. Perhaps he really was overreacting slightly. Maybe his desire had caused him to temporarily lose his sanity. The idea of having her back, the ideal outcome for him, overwhelmed his entire being. Perhaps Jongho’s suggestion would lead him in the right direction. He needed to make a decision soon. For his own sake and his family’s sake.

“Okay,” he finally managed to say. “Okay.”

Jongho gave him another quick glance, almost hesitant before eventually saying his farewell. He wanted to lighten up the mood again, at the same time aware that it was pointless and the lord would most likely shut himself off until tomorrow morning. If there’s anything, he would help. Until then, he’d give the man some space.

As the heavy wooden door swung shut, Yunho slouched into the chair. A loud sigh escaped him. His mind still raced about a way of resurrecting her but also contemplated on the fact that maybe, just maybe, Jongho might have had a point. A faint glimmer of hope sparked within him. Maybe the feelings weren’t totally gone or completely destroyed after all.

He could start over. The opportunity of getting to know and falling for Miss Y/N did cross his mind more than once and her kind and soft personality was a contrast to that of Ara, though he couldn’t deny the way she could brighten the children’s days, as well as the staff’s and even his in such a short time was already refreshing. A bitter chuckle sounded, immediately drowned by the crackling sounds of the dying fire in front of him.

Jongho sighed, unable to hide his concerns. Not wanting the staff to sense something was off, he put on a straight face, ready to head out on another duty. Before leaving, he made sure to leave a small vase of fresh white roses, picked from his own garden and lovingly trimmed in an attempt to brighten Yunho’s room.

Only Jongho had seen through the dark magic he’s dabbled and accidentally cursed himself with, much to their horror, because the once sweet and optimistic lord, blinded by his obsession and desperate feelings towards his deceased wife had used forbidden knowledge no human should dare meddle in, only for it to bring tragedy and heartache upon himself. Yunho never expected the resurrection spell he chanted with so much optimism would end up turning the mansion upside down, that all of them, especially him, would end up experiencing agony so great and unending, until all that remained were only broken memories of his late wife.

The household went into mourning for many months after the spell. Everyone who met Yunho’s former wife adored her, and it had been so difficult seeing Yunho and his children suffer alone with her death. The staff tried to console them and reassure them that even the deepest wounds heal, but the way he fell into darkness left everyone speechless, even Jongho.

The previous three tutors resigned or retired prematurely because of stress and other concerns. None of them could ever reach out to their children enough to make a connection, and even when they did, they still had not figured out the dynamics well enough to work effectively with them. But ever since Miss Y/N had become the new governess of his beloved cousin’s children, his hope in them blossomed, watching their eyes slowly grow brighter with happiness and affection as the days went by.

To Jongho, Miss Y/N felt right for the job, from her enthusiasm when interacting with the young heirs of the Jeong family, to her eagerness to learn about everything regarding the Castle and surrounding area, especially the histories surrounding its location. He watched from the corners of the grounds and various windows to check up on the new governess during her daily routines, the way she seemed to enjoy teaching the children every bit of her knowledge while still allowing time to allow their innocence to flourish and their free spirits to grow and develop, how Miss Y/N willingly included them into discussions or other activities even if it seemed uninteresting to them, yet never forced the kids to do things they didn’t like, always encouraging. He cherished every smile on her sweet and gentle face.

Someday... perhaps... Jongho’s eyes lowered. Deep in his chest, something had changed. He couldn’t quite pinpoint what that was. Did his heart start beating differently? Did his breathing become shallower? Jongho shook his head, shaking the strange feelings away, even as the sense that something had already shifted, and would shift more. He pushed back his self-doubt and closed his eyes. There was no way that he could harbor feelings like these when his station would never allow him to have someone. Especially a woman of her standing.

Jongho brought a hand to his face, running it over his tired features.

“Damnit,” he cursed under his breath. He thought his life was perfectly normal and steady. Until recently, there wasn’t anyone who seemed to capture his attention. He felt conflicted, but resolved that the feelings would surely vanish if he didn’t let himself think about them.

Jongho huffed and shook the feelings away. He knew there was no hope whatsoever, especially not at the moment when the lord’s future and reputation is in danger, where all hopes for him to recover are placed on the very governess he’s admired ever since she first arrived here, because she reminded him of the missing piece of Yunho’s broken puzzle: his dead wife.

“Dear god,” Jongho massaged his temples slowly with a deep sigh, unable to shake the image of her smile from his mind. He wondered whether he’d ever stop thinking about her. It’s not even been a week, and she’s already crept up inside his head. The possibilities worried him and sent shivers through his entire body. Why do these feelings exist inside him? Where did they come from and why now of all times when he has to put his life on the line for his boss?

A thousand and one worries ran rampant within him, but nothing prepared him for the day that she suddenly became the focus of his life. Was it because she had turned everything in their lives into something entirely new? She brought light and warmth everywhere she went. She gave new meaning and purpose to his dull existence. He wanted to protect her. Jongho clutched his fists tight at the thought of anyone or anything putting her in harm’s way or seeing her cry. How did this happen? Why couldn’t he control what’s going on inside his head or heart? All of his training, all of his efforts to be rational, completely overthrown by Miss Y/N.

For the longest time, Jongho stared ahead into the darkness. In his heart, a seed had been planted, waiting for its chance to burst open. A dream, a possibility for something bigger than the two of them. What if... What if she felt the same?

He wanted her. That much he was certain of, and although he had never thought it possible that his life would turn into what it’s turned into, it did. No doubt. But the biggest issue with everything: what does Miss Y/N want? Would she like a future by his side? A life with a mere servant, when she could easily marry into the aristocracy instead and obtain riches?

Jongho paused and slumped deeper into the pillows. None of these were questions he had an answer for, nor could he form any sort of speculation for at least in the foreseeable future, unless she showed him something else. The only thing he’s sure of right now is that, for as long as it takes, for as long as the chances of her loving him remained uncertain, Jongho would hold on and treasure every smile, every laugh and every giggle that makes him wish to have his own smiles and laughs with her.

And for the first time in a while, he realized what had brought such joy into his previously monotonous life and now, what he will never, ever, give up no matter what.

Even if it meant going against Yunho.

“Miss Y/N!” a sweet, cheery voice chimed happily as you settled into a chair.

The children had become comfortable enough to act so comfortably in your presence, not hesitating to pull themselves up by you for their morning meal. Every time you saw them in their cute outfits, smiles bright and glowing, and chatting happily away, a warm sense of fulfillment spread through your entire body. What were the odds that a few weeks ago you would have thought nothing like this would be possible, and yet, everything in front of you showed otherwise?

“What are we learning today, Miss Y/N?” Yujin asked, mouth half-full with some cut up pieces of apples.

“Slowly, dears,” you instructed patiently, gently tapping a napkin to his lip. “We are learning more about literature and art appreciation.”

“Is it the boring kind like those dumb books in Daddy’s study?” Suyeon wrinkled her nose distastefully.

You giggled as a certain fondness washed over you. The precious little girl’s blunt opinions and personality never failed to amuse and delight you. Even if they might not like a particular activity, both she and Yujin would sit dutifully next to you and pay attention.

“These are different kinds of books, I promise,” you winked, earning delighted gasps from the two children.

Sujin, being only three, clapped along with the excitement, watching her older siblings. Despite her babbling, there were some basic words of gratitude and greeting she recognized and had begun uttering for each member of the staff, which warmed everyone’s hearts. As you taught the two older children, Sujin would happily be in your lap or clinging to your skirt. She definitely liked following and was quieter, preferring to listen to you speak more than try to recite herself.

“Alright. Let’s go,” you picked Sujin up.

With the children in tow, you entered the room, where several books lined the shelves neatly in organized rows. The previous tutors were highly experienced individuals; well read, knowledgeable and proper. Although Yunho gave his children the luxury of many learning opportunities and experiences, there was something to be desired in that they would not relate well to the children’s age. Children’s education needed to be adjusted according to their growth, development, interests and abilities in order for them to retain their lessons and information better.

Although you taught adults during your time as a professor in a college, being able to teach little children was an entirely new world of its own. But seeing their adorable little faces lighting up with their eyes gleaming whenever you started telling them a story, seeing Sujin clapping her chubby hands or watching them lean forward as they listened intently, hearing them ask questions, and interacting with them. Everything about their childhood was a rare treat. You could tell the children enjoyed themselves tremendously. Their innocent smiles and their wide, sparkling gazes filled with curiosity and wonder were more than enough payment to last a lifetime.

“So,” you began, getting up from the table to approach the wooden cabinet against the wall. As usual, you scanned over its contents briefly, deciding on what to pull out, before turning your focus back to the children, who patiently waited. “I know Suyeon doesn’t like the books in their father’s study, but perhaps she may prefer some paintings.”

“Like pretty ladies sitting on swings or walking near water fountains?” Yujin asked. His sweet question made you chuckle as his interest was also shown.

“There are also plenty of pictures like that too, although most of them will probably show landscapes,” you mused, bringing up a large, bound folio. “How about we try this one together?”

Your suggestion was met with their excited agreement. Once the book was laid flat on the wooden tabletop, you flipped past the first few pages. You didn’t have to say much about the cover or title, as it didn’t take long for the kids to recognize what the subjects of these works were. Suyeon stared curiously, barely able to read the words scrolled upon its cover.

“Are you ready to learn more about the artists behind some of these lovely images?” Your question resulted in an enthusiastic cheer.

While the kids sat with their legs dangling as they carefully examined the pictures before them, you opened another folder containing a brief passage of information that served as an introductory background on the person who painted each work. It would have taken many times the amount of energy to fully explain or discuss each painting itself, much less explain the various aspects of brush strokes, textures, color schemes and so on. Instead, a simplified overview of each artist’s lives would have to be enough until the children can sit and learn without feeling bored.

“What are we learning today?” Yunho asked with a raised eyebrow and a soft grin as he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“Art. Artists,” Suyeon waved her hands around excitedly. “It’s so cool, daddy!”

“Daddy. Look!” Yujin held up an oil pastel drawing with two rabbits. The sight of him pointing proudly to his art and holding it out made you crack a fond smile.

“I figured today we delve into the arts since you’re an art professor yourself, my lord,” you remarked gently, watching the kids jump about and start on their respective drawings, though Sujin needed more of your assistance. “We could branch out into more literary sections starting later, and of course, I’ll include plenty of reading time.”

“What great ideas. I think the children love it,” he offered up a quiet hum.

“They do have talent,” you added happily. The young master and lady were exceptional at drawing and painting, though not without their moments of struggle in between, to be expected from children of their ages.

“Now, now, my young lord and ladies,” you said calmly, stepping over with the stack of paper and paints, “we don’t want to paint our beautiful clothes, do we?”

Picking up Sujin, her chubby hands filled with green and orange smudges, you rubbed them lightly over a tissue before depositing her on your hip, making the younger Jeong squeal with delight, smacking her tiny palms against your cheek and staining it. Laughing at her behavior, you handed her to the nanny as she came to pick her up. Yujin and Suyeon joined them for a moment.

“Please make sure the children get cleaned up and dressed as well, Miss Kim,” Yunho told the nanny as you organized the scattered materials into their neat piles. The children were adamant at spending every spare second with you and constantly begging you to stay a little longer, regardless of the fact that it was nap time and you needed a break too. “Miss Y/N must also rest.”

You thanked the nanny quietly and bade farewell to the kids with the promise that you will continue your studies together with them after naptime. Just as you were about to head upstairs for a quick catnap, Yunho gently took hold of your shoulder, making you glance at him in surprise.

“You have paint on your face,” he murmured, pulling a clean, soft handkerchief out of his pocket. Before you could respond, the cloth ran softly over the corners of your lips and across one side of your cheek. Your entire face tingled and burned. A sudden warmth enveloped your entire body despite how soft the delicate cloth felt against your skin.

His gaze and expression were softer than usual. Kind eyes that radiated heat, along with an enigmatic smile you couldn’t decipher. Unconsciously, your teeth dug into the inside of your lip and an inaudible sigh slipped through your parted lips. Yunho stopped a moment and surveyed you closely, still smiling with that indescribable grin as his gaze dipped lower briefly.

“Do not think too much,” he added with a low chuckle. You became uncomfortably aware of his fingers gliding smoothly across your skin as he wiped off the extra paint left behind by the children’s sticky fingers, then you watched him refold the handkerchief neatly before stuffing it into his pocket.

It took you another moment to remember to breathe. His proximity still affected you greatly. Thankfully, he stepped back and headed away, leaving you alone to deal with the growing feeling in your heart and mind. How is it even possible, you wondered as your gaze remained fixated upon the dark head of hair until the figure disappeared down the hallway and turned to the corner, when his mere smile and touches were enough to make you lose composure and act shy in front of him? And the thoughts of him touching you, looking at you, thinking about you...just you, in the privacy of his chambers. 

You buried your hot face in your hands.

Being around the man, his charming aura and enigmatic smiles, made you question and yearn for the chance to be held in his arms and in his affections. You sighed deeply, knowing fully well that, although nothing could ever happen, at least the feelings could only fizzle out with time. Surely, this entire episode will pass soon and everything can return to normal again.

To distract yourself, you decided to get some hot tea and snacks from the kitchen. You found Jongho in the kitchens already, nibbling a snack of his own. When he noticed you, he shifted so his seat would give you enough space to sit and dine on the delicious and soothing sweets.

“What kinds of books do you usually read, Miss Y/N?” Jongho suddenly asked, catching you completely off-guard.

“Oh, me?” you hesitated a little, lowering the cup to the table with a quiet, timid chuckle.

“Yes. I was curious and wanted to see whether your likes and preferences are similar.” he gave a hopeful, toothy grin. “Are there any other books or topics you are interested in?”

“Of course. I absolutely love history, literature and language, and art, of course,” you explained, ignoring the thudding of your racing heart, cheeks growing pinker. “Oh, and cooking, sewing, gardening and painting, too. Anything that will allow me to unwind after work, really.”

“What about romance?” Jongho continued, making you grow hot.

“R-romance?” Your brows furrowed, nearly choking on the dessert.

“It’s one of the most popular genres in our town’s library,” he nodded his head enthusiastically. “But you seem to like reading history.”

Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Well, I enjoy all forms of literature. So, there’s that,” you giggled nervously. You didn’t have time to explain your obsession and love with the subject. “To answer your question, yes, I do enjoy the occasional romance novels too, although it depends. They should contain elements that spark the interest of the readers.”

“And what interests you?” Jongho’s smile widened even more as he asked the simple question, turning to you again and making your heart do a backflip.

For a moment, your head was a total mess. Of course, you enjoyed reading historical novels and occasionally light romantic ones, but most of it, you used to read them as an outlet for the day’s stress or when your heart ached from loneliness. As you grew into a fully grown adult and understood your body’s needs, a different craving for literature developed. The contents became dirtier and explicit.

That didn’t mean, however, that you were shameless enough to mention these types of works to anyone. Your eyes looked around briefly, scanning the area, making sure no one could catch sight of how flustered you’d become. Jongho was handsome, that much you could acknowledge as a fact. And in the time that you’ve known him and had been working in the mansion, a faint seedling of some sort of respect, admiration, and desire for something bloomed. The fact that you could imagine him holding you so intimately that you had started looking at his built figure, thinking of his lips over yours, his fingers trailing softly over every inch of your body.

Jongho followed your gaze to find it landed on the servants. To others, they were chatting and conversing with each other and working about the area while preparing to serve tea for afternoon refreshments. It was simply them going about doing their duties. “Miss?”

“Hm?” you uttered. “Yes?”

Jongho shifted towards you, leaning forward and casually adjusting his legs while sliding his hands closer to where yours rested on the table. His height caused his shoulder to hunch forward slightly, so his breath wafted across your cheeks, warm and soft. His handsome features, his neatly slicked hair, his gentle expressions, you could stare at his gorgeous features for hours and not grow bored with taking everything in. “Are you okay? You seem to be quite flustered.”

“Oh? Flustered?” A high-pitched noise escaped your lips, sounding more like a broken screech. “Me? I was just thinking that─”

You quickly cupped the cup with a nervous smile and drank more of the refreshing lemon drink. Your throat was tight. Was it getting warm? The way you shifted in the seat revealed the discomfort in between your thighs that continued to grow worse. Jongho had somehow affected your hormones without realizing.

“I-it’s nothing. Nope! Just me and my silly thoughts.” you swallowed thickly, fanning your heated face with your free hand.

You couldn’t understand why you started feeling this way for both Yunho and Jongho. These feelings weren’t like the kind that you’d had experienced before with anyone else. You’ve had your fair share of men, though folks would call you promiscuous because they didn’t believe any good woman would associate themselves with those kinds of folks. But with Yunho and Jongho, there was this unfamiliar sensation in how you reacted whenever you saw them. And if you were being completely honest with yourself, you liked this. A lot. You loved feeling the butterflies in your stomach. 

This sweet, new thing.

“Your face is pink,” Jongho noted casually. There was no hint of teasing. It was spoken with genuine, quiet worry that caused an oncoming headache, coupled with the dryness in your throat. “Perhaps you should lay down.”

Your lips tightened and pursed. “I will, I think.”

You dabbed at the corner of your mouth and then left the servant to clean up in order to exit to your bedroom to lie down. However, instead of a long and dreamless nap, your mind became filled with dreams and fantasies of what could be. Of Jongho and your fingers entwined, him leaning closer to steal a kiss, his lips so tender upon your own and his body flushed to yours, skin tingling with need. Of Yunho’s powerful arms around you, shielding you, and his breath hot and husky as he murmurs his affections, kissing you deeply with a passionate neediness. The images made you sigh heavily into the bedsheets, letting out all the tension that you had no other place for.

And deep down, you felt almost certain that there might be a place for both men within your heart.

The thoughts surrounding Yunho’s mind as he slept that night were those of Miss Y/N, whom he was growing more accustomed to seeing and thinking of each passing day. Every time, when she walked past him and greeted him or when she lingered near, he would breathe her in, notice every little detail like the crinkle near her mouth when she laughed and the light in her beautiful eyes. And just when he thought that she would be ingrained in his mind, her figure would change to that of his late wife, the curves, the colors and her voice would change into her tone.

Her face appeared a lot clearer than it has been for years. Almost as if she was here beside him, lying next to him with one arm and her head draped lazily across his chest as she fell asleep to him, running his fingers gently through her smooth locks. Even her touch, her sweet smell. It felt so real, as if it was not the first time he’d had her in his arms.

With a quick inhale and a shift of his head, his hand dropped limply onto the soft covers, and the rest of her figure faded from his mind. Her memory would always linger with a bit of uncertainty that threatened to spoil his mood. How strange, Yunho thought to himself as his eyes reopened to see the soft, plush bedding covering his bare chest. In the distant corner, moonlight continued to filter into the large room, bathing all the furniture in a silver glow. For the longest while, he remained motionless and stared at the ceiling. The cold sheets caressed him lovingly as he curled against his pillow.

He heard the whispers, the voices, coming from the walls, filling his brain, filling his very being. Was he becoming crazy? Every night, it grew stronger; the voices, her, trying to draw him into an ever-growing darkness.

“Yunho,” the whispers, the dead hiss came, causing him to clutch his pillow with white-knuckle strength, nails digging into the silky material as he clutched his head with his other hand.

They were always there; waiting for him, waiting for him to do... something.

“Yunho,” her breath, her breath was against his ear now.

“Yunho,” she hissed. “Yunho, Yunho, Yunho. Don’t you want me, Yunho? Do you not want me? Yunho? Yunho!”

He closed his eyes, gripping the blankets in both fists, feeling her invisible touch on the backs of his shoulders. “No,” he whimpered, “not anymore, not anymore!”

The feel of her icy fingers on his chest sent ice into his heart. It felt like death in his ears, in his chest, in his mouth. Yunho squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he felt a hard shudder overcome his entire form.

“Give. Me. What. You. Promised.” Her voice grew louder, a silent roar, and louder, her words growing indistinguishable as he sat in silence, a tremor overtaking his body. Yunho could feel her fingernails drawing small circles and spirals upon his bare skin, and her mouth was cold upon his ear, her breath harsh and wet. “You promised me eternal life. Give it to me.”

He opened his eyes, staring at the ghostly apparition of his late wife who still continued to hover before him, grinning and chanting in that harsh, otherworldly voice. “I can’t... Not when the body you want is a breathing, living thing!” Yunho gritted through clenched teeth.

“Don’t you love me?” She snarled. “Don’t you miss me?”

He stiffened, not wanting to reply, as the sight of his former, most beloved person standing before him with such unabashed cruelty was too much. He kept silent, hearing his heart beat faster as the cold spread in his chest, like frost burning up the core of him.

“Tell me, dear,” her voice lowered, cooing and breathless in his ear, “do you still love me, after everything that happened, Yunho?”

He didn’t know how to reply. So many mixed emotions rose and threatened to overflow. The coldness in his bones and her heavy weight, the dread, the dread all sinking down upon him until he finally whispered,

“Yes...” Yunho looked at her, unflinching. His resolve held for this one second as the memories, the old fears, the hatred flooded him all the same.

She smiled, eyes glittering darkly in the candlelight.

“Do you wish you had me by your side, again?” She cooed and reached forward. “She looks like me, you know. You can have us both. Tell me, tell me.”

Yunho closed his eyes, shaking them, wanting to rid himself of the ghost before his eyes, his ghost, the vision before him, and then he cried aloud, “NO!”

And when he felt the warm hand that touched his arm gently, Yunho flinched away with a heavy gasp.

“My lord?” the quiet voice came. Yunho opened his eyes, the ghost of his late wife, nowhere to be seen. In her place stood his very real, breathing person.

You looked down at his sweat drenched body, a clear sign he was either having fever or having a nightmare. You head the sounds coming from his bedroom and dashed towards him to investigate the situation. Now, standing at the bedside and examining his poor sleeping figure and seeing how he tossed and turned.

“Are you alright?” you asked hesitantly, not caring that you were just in a thin layer of chemise that barely concealed all of your most intimate areas, or that he was naked from the waist up.

“Mmhm,” his throat muscles bobbed. It was all Yunho could manage through the overwhelming need and desire. You. He needed you. He needed someone else. Anyone other than her. She would not haunt him for long, not when he had a mind and will of his own. Not when he had you.

“I-I....” the man shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment before letting them flutter open. He grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him so that you lay flat on the bed, his body hovering over you.

The blanket had moved aside and fell completely from his torso to the mattress, showing off the stunning upper body, tousled and messed hair, and a glint in his half-closed gaze. You exhaled shakily, still unmoving.

“Please. I... just want you. Just tonight,” he breathed, looking up from your cleavage. He captured your lips with his own, leaving you speechless and breathless. “Stay with me tonight.”

The gentleness, his words, and his touch seemed to burn into your skin. His hands moved up your arms, pinning them above your head as he devoured your mouth and your neck. His knee settled nicely between your legs. With every word, his teeth, tongue and lips trailed over the tender skin of your exposed throat and collarbone.

It felt right; his firm, warm body pressed to your own, the gentle tugs of his hands upon the flimsy chemise, the slow drag of his thumb across your lips, the feather-light brushes and caresses, his mouth upon yours, exploring, dominating, yet coaxing out your desire. The soft noises you make and the whimpers of his name urged him forward, spurring his hunger.

“Do you want me? Tell me you want me,” he pleaded. His mouth was so close that you felt his hot breath washing over your wet lips, making you shiver. “Please.”

“I want you,” you gasped, overwhelmed by your desires and needs and unable to say more. Your lips yearned for him. For his taste and his scent. You wanted nothing more but him.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, trying to catch his breath as he reached down with one hand to press a finger to your slick sex, dragging it upwards, sending your hips bucking and arching from the pleasurable shock that ripped through you. “Yunho....”

“I...” his breath quivered. “Is it alright?”

He was hard, unbelievably hard against your thigh and his tent was already apparent in the loose trousers he was wearing. Even so, his kind nature urged him to be respectful. “Is it?”

He glanced up and down at your bare and quivering form, taking in the curves of your soft, lush skin and the dips between. His gaze lingered on your full and luscious breasts with its stiffened peaks, so tantalizingly inviting and luring. You wiggled one of your hands free, grasping the hand that was on your sex, squeezing it as you smiled tenderly.

“Yes,” you breathed softly, and his eyes bore back at you in shock. “I am willing.”

After hearing your words of consent, he inserted a long finger inside you. You gasped loudly and arched your back as his mouth latched onto one hardened bud, taking your breast into his mouth, sucking greedily and harshly. He added another finger and began to slide his fingers in and out, allowing the tip of his fingers to run across that spot he knew would have you writhing in pleasure.

You bucked your hips again to meet the pace of his fingers, as you tried your best not to moan louder and louder. “P-please... Oh! Yunho, please.”

It felt as if every nerve ending in your body was alight and ready for his touch, to feel his heat wash over every inch of your exposed skin, even his soft breathing. As he pressed his body flat and covered your entire form with his own, the entire room seemed to dim, your hearing and vision a mess, every sound muted and faraway as you succumbed to the feel of Yunho’s hands and the press of his weight over you, which somehow reassured you.

“Hush now,” his low voice tickled your ear, making your entire body shake with anticipation and need. “Let me take care of you. I’ll make you feel good. So good.”

You found yourself moaning from his husky and thick voice alone. He rolled his hips to emphasise the point, dragging the hardened bulge against the inside of your thigh. He removed his hand from you only to rip your chemise cleanly down the middle.

“I’ll get you another one,” he chuckled when he saw your surprised face.

“How am I supposed to go back to my bedroom?” you managed between huffs.

“You don’t,” Yunho murmured, taking hold of both your hands in one grip again, pinning them together. “I intend to keep you all night long until the sun rises. We’ll see if you are not absolutely spent by then.”

Before you could utter another word, Yunho trailed, kissed down the valley between your breasts and all the way to your stomach, dipping the tip of his tongue in the tiny curve where the muscles in the belly are. Your senses were over flooded from every lick and stroke, each graze of his teeth, his hands and his mouth, kissing you, kneading you, stroking you, anywhere and everywhere.

Suddenly, there was an empty feeling in the pit of your stomach when you noticed Yunho rising. His hands made quick work of undoing the cord that kept his pants tied in place.

“Open your legs,” Yunho’s hot breath fanned over your cheeks as he breathed raggedly. He urged, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh lightly. “Wider.”

Slowly and agonizingly, he crawled down your body, his fingers all the way to the inner part of your thighs, pulling and spreading them apart for him. Without a warning, his tongue laved at your damp opening, drinking your essence greedily as you writhed and moaned beneath him. A firm hand went to your stomach, preventing you from moving too much as Yunho’s lips covered your swollen folds. You pulled on the silken strands of his hair, earning a growl of approval, and moaned softly at the sensation of his warm breaths fanned over your clit. His tongue swirled over your entrance, driving you absolutely mad.

With his talented and torturous mouth, Yunho didn’t take much longer until your release spasmed throughout your entire being, shattering your every thought and coherency. Yunho didn’t relent and continued devouring you, prolonging your release until you were forced to use your free hand to push his head away. When your breathing finally evened out, you felt Yunho shift, his weight above your pelvis, and his solid erection laid heavily between the apex of your thighs.

“Y/N,” his hands moved to your wrists once again. And, as you felt him enter your walls and slide deliciously along your soaking, moist flesh, he took your lips in a kiss, claiming your mouth and drawing a breathless gasp from you as his length filled you and stretched you most deliciously, stealing your breath away. The two of you settled into a delicious rhythm with his cock stroking in and out and with the thrust of his hips in perfect sync with your rocking. “You feel so good.”

The deep grunts that followed had you burying your nails into his skin, the need for him increasing as you could almost hear the thudding of your heart as Yunho’s movements got quicker, causing you to arch against his chest. There were no thoughts in your mind and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that escaped your lips. With his hand guiding your leg around him and the other supporting him, Yunho sank his length deeper inside you.

“So warm,” he shuddered in disbelief as his breathing became more ragged, the scent of his cologne and arousal hitting you directly, along with the droplets of sweat that began to form on his back. You moaned and whispered his name repeatedly like it was a spell, knowing that he needed more than just your words.

His low growls were so close to your ear, urging you to continue chanting his name with every movement until a small whimper broke from you, a soft, “oh.”

“Look at me,” his lips grazed your earlobe as you mewled and jerked your hips to meet his deep thrust. He needed to see the look of complete surrender on your face when he finished you. He wanted to see every detail.

“Yunho,” you let out a soft moan.

“Now,” he whispered in a commanding tone that sent shivers down your spine, drawing a gasp from you as he snapped his hips, embedding himself to the hilt. “Come for me.”

A cry, sweet and wanting, was forced from his lips, as Yunho wrapped his hands around your throat, capturing the moan in another kiss, making you feel the warmth radiating between your connected bodies. He breathed heavily and groaned at the contact of his throbbing erection in your heat. As if responding to your need, he squeezed the globes of your rear gently before continuing his rough and hurried strokes.

When the tension and pressure grew too great, Yunho couldn’t control himself. He climaxed with a deep grunt and your name. All his strength seemed to abandon him and his weight toppled over, leaning on you. Immediately, he shifted and placed a kiss at the top of your forehead, gathering you close to his sweat slicked skin with your head nestled under his chin.

Your hands roamed all over the expanse of Yunho’s broad, warm chest as his heartbeat started to slow. One hand pushed a stray strand away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks, moist and slightly swollen lips, and tousled hair. Yunho looked gorgeous and absolutely stunning underneath the pale moon that continued to provide its illuminating light.

His eyelids fluttered open to look directly into yours. With his right hand, he drew your face towards him. Your breath hitched as Yunho rested his forehead upon yours, his thumb grazing across your lips. He sucked in a deep breath and whispered something in a tone that you could not catch. Afterward, he moved downwards and connected his mouth to yours, kissing your lips fervently, relishing every little moan you emitted.

“You’re beautiful,” he uttered in the brief pauses between kisses, making you chuckle. “Are you alright?”

“I should be asking you that,” you said. “What happened to you earlier?”

With a furrowed expression, you witnessed the dark look that crossed Yunho’s handsome features. The way he carried himself, the quiet elegance he always displayed. It was all still the same, but there was also something hidden and tucked behind his person. Like he carried a heavy burden on his shoulders. Yunho shook his head. “There’s... a lot of things that’s happened, Y/N. It’ll take a long time to explain.”

“Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you replied quietly, brushing a thumb against his cheek.

Yunho merely looked at you, studying every minute detail of your face, committing everything to memory. At that moment, there was nothing else but you and Yunho. Nothing and no one could have this. And the way you spoke, the way your gentle hands moved across his skin as you spoke, the very fact that he was talking about something he hadn’t touched upon in the years of your company, caused him to think. Maybe you weren’t going anywhere, after all.

“If there’s a reason,” you murmured slowly and cautiously as you rested a hand upon his naked chest, “a reason that has prevented you to open up and talk, I hope that in time, you’ll be willing to tell me what troubles you, Yunho.”

With a smile tugging his lips upwards, a genuine smile, Yunho held you close. For the first time in years, there was a spark of hope and warmth he could feel and it was not a hallucination, no.

It was very real.

One month passed by relatively fast.

You were standing next to Jongho, waving at the departing carriage that Yunho and the children had departed in. Yunho and the children were heading to the capital for the holidays, as was the custom for nobles to do. Sujin was clinging on to you for dear life and refused to leave, wailing and screaming in anguish, holding you tight in her embrace while the other two children joined her in their wails. Their loud sobs drowned out all the noise of the bustling servants and horses.

“You’ll be back before you know it,” you muttered, rubbing the child’s back soothingly and in a voice loud enough to be heard amongst the chaos. The toddler buried her face further into your chest, nodding slowly while sobbing quietly. “It’s only for a few weeks.”

Yunho sighed and walked up behind, gently peeling off Sujin from her iron grip.

“You have to let go, baby,” he soothed and smiled comfortingly.

“Papa, no!” she wailed, digging her face against Yunho’s chest with a new set of sobs. The older gentleman gave you a helpless look and sighed. You only offered a supportive smile in response.

“The sooner you let go, the sooner we can return and you can see Miss Y/N again,” Yunho cajoled with the toddler, still not relenting her hold on his shirt.

Yunho waited patiently as Sujin processed his statement and pulled her face back, still sniffling and sobbing and hiccupping. She nodded vigorously. “Uh, huh.”

“Alright. Say goodbye, now,” Yunho said sternly. The toddler pouted with tears dripping down her red face.

“Bye-bye mama,” she cried. “Bye-bye!!”

You stood there frozen and startled beyond belief. The children and everyone around them went still with astonishment as a sudden awkward silence washed over everyone and they stared back and forth. Your mind went blank and unresponsive, incapable of forming any thought and even a simple word as the small and fragile girl wrapped her arms around your neck once again, causing the spell to break.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” not bothering to correct the toddler. You embraced the little girl, taking in the smell of her soft baby hairs. With one final cry, the toddler released you. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Jongho, keep Miss Y/N and the rest of the staff well,” the nobleman addressed to the younger man with a slight blush dusted over his cheekbones. He offered an apologetic grin before sending a knowing look your way and nodded, retreating inside his carriage with the crying kids trailing behind. The carriage shook roughly and then, with the sound of rattling wheels, was off.

“Mama, huh?” One maid let out a teasing grin. “Seems like the little lady has already taken a liking to you, Miss Y/N.”

“What do you expect? Miss Y/N is the closest to a mother figure that the young lord and ladies have.” The house steward, old and grizzled as he was, merely hummed in thought, stroking his beard in contemplation as he watched the retreating carriage fade in the distant hills.

“I don’t mind it at all,” you laughed. “Sujin is three, after all. She doesn’t understand much.”

“Just wait, Miss Y/N. In no time, all three children will start calling you mama. That would be adorable,” one of the kitchen maids added. Everyone began to chat animatedly. “The master already has affection towards you. It’s only a matter of time until those adorable tykes start picking up on his feelings.”

“What are you all saying?! That would never happen!” You blushed bright red as everyone burst out laughing.

Jongho chuckled. “Now, now. Let’s all get back to our duties. The sooner we all finish, the sooner we can finally relax!”

With Jongho’s cheerful remark, the atmosphere turned jubilant. The servants immediately scattered back to their stations and went back to their responsibilities. However, Jongho stood next to you. “You know he cares about you.”

“He-we’re not together!” You protested loudly, waving your hands frantically in front of you. “There’s no way he can like a woman of my stature.”

“Are you blind?” He laughed, patting your shoulder with a wide grin. “Everyone in this entire mansion and even the children have taken to you. You’ve fit right in like you were always a member here.”

“And you? Did you like having me around here as well, Mister Jongho?” You looked at him. You teased, a grin on your lips. 

“More than you know. To me,” Jongho beamed, a look of pure relief overcoming his entire form. The burden that he had carried seemed to have evaporated. He nodded toward the large estate and the shrubbery in the garden. “To me, it’s almost like you were here to watch over all of us. Because, if anything, there was no one that has loved us like the way you did.”

“Jongho....” Your chest tightened. There was something about his eyes. Something about the way they took you and held you with utmost trust and admiration that brought joy into your heart.

“I know that, like all humans, Lord Yunho had his share of tragedies in the past,” the groundskeeper began quietly, as his gaze wandered to the green hills and to the morning sun, bathing him in a soft glow and accentuating his firm jaw and soft, brown hair.

“Can you tell me... about what happened?” you asked. “No, never mind,” you added quickly. “You don’t have to if-“  

“No. It’s alright. You need to know,” he gave a strained laugh and gestured you to follow him. You and him walked down a path in the enormous garden, Jongho taking extra time to make sure all the shrubbery were in check and that the plants looked neat, pruned, and trimmed to his liking. The both of you stood underneath a small pavilion and sat at a table facing the fountain.

“What happened to her?” You asked him in a soft whisper.

“You mean Lady Ara?” His gaze lingered upon the lilies floating peacefully along the surface of the pond. He clenched his fingers tightly. “You look like her, you know. She was so vibrant, warm, gentle, and beautiful. But during the last few months of being pregnant with Miss Sujin, her health and strength began to wane.”

Your face showed concern. “How?”

“The grand library,” Jongho didn’t bother to meet your gaze. Instead, his eyes followed a lone dove that alighted near one lily. Its wings fluttered against the cool wind and the breeze blew through his locks softly. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “Three months prior to little Sujin being born, Lady Ara was reading a book that wasn’t meant to be read.”

“What were they about?” You questioned quietly and carefully as the younger man’s brow furrowed.

“Old magic,” Jongho hesitated. He was visibly nervous and when you reached out to squeeze his hand, he didn’t stop you. Instead, he grasped onto your hand with such a hard grip, his face contorting and crinkling in pain and horror that you almost feared he had broken a bone or two in his hand. “And with old magic, came a price.”

He swallowed and continued in a low, shaking whisper. “Her life.”

Silence was the only answer he received. So, he continued.

“Thank the goddess that little Sujin was spared the curse that was bestowed upon Lady Ara, but....” A bitter, defeated chuckle was heard as he stood from the bench. He picked up the clippers that laid upon the ground and snipped a tiny branch. “It would only be a matter of time before the curse took Lady Ara’s life. She didn’t make it through and now her ghost haunts the castle.”

“Ghost?” you asked.

“Haven’t you heard whispers? Chilling voices down the halls sometimes at night?” Jongho asked.

“So I’m not going crazy,” you whispered. “No wonder I hear these voices.”

“The staff and the children can’t hear or see her,” Jongho finally finished as he took his seat again. The old and withering rose bush branches were shedding their petals at a rapid pace as he pruned the branches and pulled at the weak buds. “But Yunho and I still do. Ever since her death, she’s been plaguing and tormenting both of us in different ways.”

You chewed at the insides of your bottom lip. “Why her?”

“Because her ghost is tied with that old book she read,” Jongho said.  

“Can’t Yunho burn the book?” you asked. “I’m certain that would set her spirit free.”

“We tried, many times.” Jongho merely shrugged with a helpless look. He stabbed his clippers on the wooden bench with a sigh. “When the first two tries failed, it got worse. Whenever Yunho attempted to do such a thing, Lady Ara’s ghost would wail so loud and horribly. Yunho and I would find ourselves being paralyzed, unable to move or speak. And when we asked her what she wanted, she hissed that she didn’t want to go. That she wanted eternal life.”

“Jongho,” you said.

He snorted a little and turned his head away in shame, not meeting your worried and alarmed expression.

“What’s going on?” you asked.  

“You. She wants you, Y/N.” Jongho pressed a trembling hand against his temple. “She wants to take over your body.”

TO BE CONTINUED

I felt so sad when reader was talking to mingi in the hospital knowing he was at yeosang’s house, talking about his feelings too. *sobs*

This chapter was so good and I can’t wait for the next one! <3

strangers by nature | iii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 4.9K Warnings: just a little angst but we're finally on a lighter, fluffier chapter

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As you pulled into the parking lot of an unfamiliar apartment complex, Mingi’s ears perked up, his dark, expressive eyes widening with what could only be described as alarm. He’d been unusually fussy this morning, darting away every time you reached out to put his collar on, his little legs scurrying under the grand piano. And when you crouched down to coax him with chicken, he bolted under the couch, telling you that you’d never catch him. 

“Maro, guess what! You’re going to have a sleepover with Hetmon!” you announced, patting him gently. The words slipped out with casual enthusiasm, thinking it’d be fun for him to spend a night with someone who’s growing so fond of him.

As a human, Mingi wouldn’t have cared. He would have come and gone as he pleased, slipping through life without a second thought. Back then, you were just a fleeting presence—someone whose affection he had easily shrugged off. He never thought twice about the way you looked at him or how you cared in your own quiet way.

But things were different now.

You had become the one constant in his new world. The way you fussed over him, made sure he was fed, safe, and warm—it was something he hadn’t realized he needed until it was gone. The thought of being without you, even for one night, filled him with a fear he didn’t fully understand. What if you didn’t come back? What if you left him behind for good?

He let out a soft whine, his eyes flicking to you as if trying to convey the thoughts swirling in his mind: Don’t leave me. Not like this. Mingi squirmed under your touch, his soft fur slipping through your fingers as he wiggled in his seat. His gaze darted to the complex in front of you, his ears twitching at every sound, the unfamiliarity of it all clearly overwhelming.

When you opened the car door, he hesitated, his small paws stiff against your hands as you gently lifted him from the seat. Holding him close, you pressed your cheek into his soft fur.

“It’s going to be alright,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the ache tightening in your chest. “I’m going to miss you.”

With every step up to Yeosang’s door, Mingi clung to you, his gaze darting between you and the unfamiliar entryway. When Yeosang opened the door, his gentle smile eased some of the tension. Kneeling down to greet Mingi, Yeosang reached out, offering a reassuring presence to the uneasy figure in your arms.

"Hey, Maro! We’re going to have so much fun! I know Hetmon can’t wait to play with you! We have tons of treats and toys, and we can stay up as late as we want!”

Mingi burrowed deeper into your hold, his nose pressing against the crook of your arm as though trying to shield himself from the unfamiliarity of the moment. You could feel his heart racing, a rhythm that matched your own.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said softly, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. He didn’t pull away this time, but the tremble in his little body didn’t fade.

"I love you," you whispered gently, feeling the words catch in your throat. "I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?" 

Mingi blinked up at you, momentarily pulled from his anxious thoughts. You love me? The words settled over him, unexpected and profound. His tail gave a faint wag before drooping again.

There was something almost unbearable about the way you said it—so soft, so certain. As if he mattered. As if he was worth loving. He wanted to cling to his anger, to the bitterness he’d nurtured, to all the reasons he convinced himself to hate you. It was safer that way.

But in this moment, with your arms around him, his resolve began to falter under the quiet strength of your love. A lump formed in his throat as he let himself feel the ache of wanting to believe you. Slowly, he pressed himself into your chest, seeking refuge in your scent, in the fragile, fleeting comfort of your presence.

“Have fun, okay? I'll be back before you know it',” you promised, setting him down after one last hug. 

Mingi wanted to believe you—to believe that you’d come back, that this wasn’t just another moment where he’d be left behind. But the fear was louder, whispering cruelly that once you were gone, you might never return.

When the door finally clicked shut behind you, an ache settled in his chest. He wanted to hate you for leaving him, for making him feel so vulnerable, so helplessly tethered to you. Anger and resentment would have been easier to bear than the raw, twisting pain inside him.

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the way you held him—the way your arms had felt so steady, the way your lips had pressed gently to his head. And those words. I love you.

Did you mean them? Could they be real? Did he even deserve them? 

As he was left to contemplate on his own, Hetmon plopped down with a soft thud, his large frame settling next to Mingi’s much smaller one. The doberman nudged him gently with his snout, his warm brown eyes filled with quiet sympathy. 

“It’s okay to feel sad,” Hetmon said quietly. “It’s scary at first but then you get lots of snacks and snuggles! And I have lots of toys you can play with!”

But Mingi barely reacted, his tiny body stiff and unmoving, his gaze fixed on the door as though sheer willpower could bring you back. The sound of your footsteps fading down the hall felt like an unbearable loss, each step tugging at a string inside him he hadn’t even known was there.

“Maro,” Yeosang said gently. His voice was soothing, though it didn’t carry the same comfort yours did. “Why don’t we go into the living room? It’s more comfortable there.”

Mingi sprawled on the floor in his fluffy, sulking form, letting out a deep, reluctant sigh. His big puppy eyes darted toward Hetmon and then to Yeosang, filled with quiet resignation.

Yeosang didn’t push him, simply standing back and letting the puppy sulk in his own time. As a human, Mingi had always been used to getting his way. Pampered and spoiled, he’d rarely had to ask for what he wanted—everything had been handed to him, either out of obligation or fear of his temper. People didn’t treat him with kindness because they cared; they catered to him because it was easier than dealing with his tantrums.

But Yeosang and Hetmon were different–they were giving him something he didn’t quite know how to handle: genuine care and patience. They didn’t push, didn’t try to force him into compliance. It wasn’t about control or convenience—it was about seeing him, even when he was at his most vulnerable.

Yeosang exchanged a look with Hetmon, as if the two were silently agreeing on what to do next. 

“Alright, let’s make this space cozy,” Yeosang said, his tone gentle but upbeat. “Something just for you and Hetmon.

Curious but still sulking, Mingi tilted his head as the living room was a flurry of motion. Yeosang draped blankets over the back of the couch and anchored them with cushions, creating a cozy little den. Hetmon grabbed a toy, carrying it over and dropping it right next to Mingi with a proud wag of his tail.

“There we go,” Yeosang said, standing back to admire the setup. The blanket fort was simple but warm, with soft lighting spilling through the gaps. He knelt down, peeking inside. 

“What do you think, Maro? A place just for you and Hetmon.”

Mingi hesitated, his small paws inching forward as he sniffed cautiously at the fort. The structure, carefully built, carried faint traces of Yeosang and Hetmon’s familiar scents. Pausing at the entrance, his big, round eyes scanned the space nervously before retreating slightly, his posture low to the floor.

Yeosang settled beside the fort, keeping a respectful distance as he offered a reassuring smile. “You’ll be okay, Maro,” he said gently. “I promise we’ll take good care of you until Y/N comes back.”

⋆

You lay on the couch in the private suite, staring blankly at the ceiling as the low hum of the machines filled the silence. Your gaze drifted instinctively to Mingi, his frail form nestled amidst a series of wires and tubes. His chest rose and fell in steady intervals, yet the sight brought little comfort. He seemed so small, so fragile, swallowed by the sterile hospital bedding and the weight of his condition.

A shaky breath escaped you, uneven and strained in the stillness of the room. Part of you yearned to reach out, despite knowing he wouldn’t feel it. But the other part held you back, paralyzed by the thought that crossing that line would tear apart the fragile distance that had shielded you for so long.

Instead, you let yourself collapse further into the sofa, its cushions swallowing you whole. Your body sagged under the weight of exhaustion and grief, the kind that lingered in the pit of your stomach, making it hard to breathe.

“Hey,” you murmured softly, the word catching in your throat as though it could break the suffocating silence in the room. Your voice sounded foreign to your own ears, hoarse and uncertain, but the need to fill the stillness outweighed your discomfort.

“Do you dream of anything?” you asked quietly, your gaze flicking to his still form. “I mean, I hope it’s something good. Something better than this.”

Your fingers toyed with the edge of the blanket draped over you, the repetitive motion grounding you just enough to keep going. 

“You know, I read somewhere that people in comas can hear things. I don’t know if that’s true, but if it is, you’re probably thinking, Why won’t Y/N shut up?” You let out a shaky laugh, the sound bitter, more like a defense mechanism than actual amusement.

You shifted again, resting your head against the arm of the sofa, your gaze never leaving him. "Oh, uh, I got a dog," you said, the words coming out almost hesitant, like a confession.

"I found him outside of the hospital at 5 AM. It was after you were brought into the ICU. His name’s Maro. Cutest little thing ever. He’s really fluffy, kind of like a Pomeranian, except he has one floppy ear."

The corners of your mouth twitched into the faintest smile at the memory, but it disappeared just as quickly. Had he always seemed this small? Or was it the weight of his vulnerability now that forced you to see him differently? 

You clenched your fists, willing yourself not to cry. Was it pity, guilt, or something else entirely? You weren’t sure if you were mourning the man you never got to know—or the one you never had the chance to leave behind.

"What am I doing?" you sighed to yourself, the words escaping in a combination of frustration and sadness. 

You were talking to him. Hoping, somehow, that he could hear you. That even in the liminal space between life and the unknown, he might sense your presence. That he might know, even if you’d been so far apart in life, you weren’t going to leave him alone in this.

“I hate hospitals,” you admitted, your voice cracking slightly as you glanced at the stark white walls. 

“And now here I am again. Back in a place I never wanted to see again. And you’re the one lying there, hooked up to machines.” Your voice caught, and you swallowed hard, fighting the lump rising in your throat. 

“And I hate it just as much as I did back then. Maybe more.”

You hesitated, your gaze dropping to your hands as you fidgeted with your sleeves. “I talked to your mom,” you began softly, your voice heavy with unspoken frustration.

“I tried to convince your parents to take turns staying overnight,” you continued, your voice cracking slightly. 

“I thought maybe...maybe it’d be an opportunity to bring you closer together. That this—” you gestured faintly to the machines, “—would wake them up. But it’s like...nothing’s changed.” 

The room fell silent again, save for the steady, monotonous beeping of the machines, a sound that felt almost mocking in its rhythm. You looked at Mingi’s face, so peaceful it made your chest ache. It felt unfair—like the calm didn’t belong here, not with everything unsaid hanging in the air.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words catching in your throat. 

“They don’t deserve you, Mingi. I just...I just wanted them to see you. Really see you. Not the version of you they’ve made up in their heads.” You exhaled shakily, your gaze dropping again to your hands. 

“You’re more than that. You’re just Mingi,” you said quietly. “And that’s enough. You’re enough.”

Your words drifted into the stillness of the room, fading into the hum of the machines. You pulled the thin hospital blanket closer, wrapping it tightly around yourself like a fragile shield against the cold. Closing your eyes, you told yourself you wouldn’t sleep—but the weight of exhaustion crept in, relentless and unyielding, until it finally pulled you under.

And in the quiet of your dreams, it felt as if he were also reaching out for you too.

Mingi laid on his belly, eyes fixed on the front door, refusing to move. After dinner, despite Yeosang arranging a cozy pile of blankets by the couch and Hetmon checking in persistently, Mingi remained rooted in place. 

Hetmon was fast asleep in the blanket fort, while Yeosang lay stretched out on the floor next to it, his head propped up on one arm. The faint glow of the moonlight spilled through the curtains, bathing the room in silvery light.

"You must really love Y/N," Yeosang observed quietly, his voice barely louder than a whisper. He turned his gaze toward Mingi, who sat a short distance away.

Mingi had never waited for you before, not like this. He had never looked forward to your presence, never longed to see your smile or hear your voice. But his heart ached in a way that he couldn’t explain. He could barely remember the last time he’d truly listened when you spoke to him, let alone considered that you might see something in him worth loving.

What could you possibly love about him? The man he had been was callous, dismissive, too caught up in his own bitterness to care about the hurt he caused. But you didn’t deserve any of it. He had been too proud, too angry to see that then. 

But now, stripped of his humanity, stripped of his defenses, Mingi saw everything clearly. No walls to hide behind, no excuses to shield him from the truth. He couldn’t help but wonder whether it was too late to try and make things right.

Yeosang offered him a small smile, the kind that was patient and unwavering. 

“Y/N loves you so much. You’ve become her whole world, even if you don’t realize it.”

Mingi’s ears flicked at the words, a pang resonating deep in his chest.

“Honestly,” Yeosang continued, “I’ve never seen anyone dote on a dog the way she does you. She keeps saying you’re special, you know? That you’re not like other dogs. And the way she looks at you—it’s like you’ve hung the moon.” He chuckled softly, his expression tender.

“I don’t think she’s wrong, though. There’s something about you.”

Mingi’s ears twitched again, and his eyes slid closed as a wave of bittersweet warmth washed over him. Yeosang had no idea how close to the truth he was. He didn’t know that the little dog lying here was the same Mingi who had spent years pushing you away, too afraid to let you in.

The weight of those thoughts grew unbearable, and Mingi slowly got to his feet, his small frame shivering slightly. He padded softly toward the pillow fort, and didn’t hesitate as he nudged his way inside, his nose brushing against Hetmon’s side.

“Hey,” Mingi murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he crouched next to Hetmon. “You’re a good listener, right?”

Hetmon perked up immediately, tail wagging in eager agreement. “The best listener! Try me!” he chirped, his eyes bright and inviting.

“Remember when I told you…that I got turned into a dog because I did some…bad things? And you said you’d help?”

Hetmon tilted his head, his dark eyes softening as he let out a quiet, supportive huff. The playful glint usually present in his gaze gave way to something warmer, deeper—a promise that he was here.

Mingi swallowed hard, his ears lowering as his voice faltered. “Well I need your help…listening. I—I don’t even know where to start. I just…” His words trailed off, and he stared down at his paws as though they held the answers he was too afraid to find. 

“I…I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want Y/N to leave me here, I want her to come back. I think…because I’m always used to being left behind.”

His gaze dropped, as if the weight of his words were too heavy to carry for his little form. “When I was a kid, my parents weren’t around much. My dad worked all the time, and my mom…she didn’t know what to do with me. I wasn’t easy—loud, stubborn. I broke rules just to see if they’d notice. And when they did, it was only because I made them look bad. That was the only time I felt…seen.”

Hetmon nudged closer, his nose pressing gently against Mingi’s side in quiet support.

“I just wanted their attention,” Mingi whispered. “For them to be proud of me, to love me for something good. But it never felt like enough. I only existed to them when I was a problem. Whatever it took to remind them I was there. And eventually, it wasn’t an act anymore. I just…became that person.”

“I wanted everything on my terms. Most people just gave me what I wanted because it was easier than dealing with me.” He paused, the next words catching in his throat before spilling out. 

“Except for the engagement.”

He glanced away, unable to meet Hetmon’s gaze. “I accepted it because I thought it would make my parents proud,” he admitted quietly.

“I thought if I did this one big thing, if I played the role they wanted me to, I’d finally be enough for them. But it wasn’t what I wanted—it was never what I wanted.”

“I thought it would earn their approval, but all I did was hurt everyone—especially Y/N.”

Mingi curled in on himself, his nails digging into the cushion as his voice dropped to a whisper. “I made her life miserable because it was easier than letting her in. I couldn't be vulnerable with her.”

“She was the only one who ever stood up to me. And that scared me. Not because she made me feel small, but because…” His voice faltered. “Because she made me feel like I wasn’t in control. Like she could see the real me. Some spoiled kid desperate for someone to care.”

He stared down at his paws, uncertainty clouding his gaze. The enormity of his mistakes felt insurmountable. Would you even want to hear him out? Could he find the right words to make you understand how sorry he was?

He thought about the way you cared for him—not just the way you fed him or ensured he was comfortable, but the way you spoke to him softly, as if he were the most important thing in the world. The way your eyes lit up with genuine affection every time you saw him. You loved freely, without conditions or reservations, and he saw it in every small act, every moment you cared for him. It wasn’t just something he noticed once—it was unyielding.

And it made him realize just how deeply he’d failed you.

“I don’t know what it’ll take to turn back,” he murmured, “but I know I have to fix things. I owe her that much.”

For a moment, Hetmon didn’t move, as if processing the words. Then, with a cheerful wag of his tail, he shuffled closer, his dark eyes warm with encouragement.

“I’m glad you told me all that!” Hetmon chirped, his voice bright and unburdened. “It means we’re friends now, right? Real friends!”

Mingi blinked, taken aback by the simplicity of Hetmon’s declaration. He turned to look at him, his tail swishing lightly against the floor as Hetmon beamed up at him.

“Yeah…I guess we are,” he replied softly with a small smile.

“I don’t really know what ‘vulnerable’ means,” Hetmon admitted, his head tilting curiously, “but it sounds like sharing your favorite toy with someone, even if you don’t really want to! Because… you’re nice!”

A quiet chuckle escaped Mingi, and for the first time in a long while, the heavy knot in his chest loosened. “Yeah,” he said, his voice lighter, “it’s kind of like that.”

“Well, I’ll always share my toys with you,” Hetmon said, his tail wagging faintly. He paused, tilting his head thoughtfully before continuing, “Maybe you should share your toys with Y/N. You know, to show her how much you care.”

Mingi blinked, startled by the simplicity of the suggestion, but the earnestness in Hetmon’s voice made something inside him soften.

“We’re gonna go to the park tomorrow, so we need to save our energy to play chase… and maybe fetch too. Gotta make sure we’re ready. And then…” He trailed off for a moment, his breathing slowing as though on the verge of sleep, before murmuring, “And then we can think of ways to help make you human again.”

Mingi glanced up at the dog pressed against him. He’d never thought much about companionship before, but Hetmon’s unwavering optimism and warmth chipped away at the walls he’d built around himself.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “I’d like that too.”

Unbeknownst to Mingi and Hetmon, Yeosang sat quietly outside the fort. The sight of them—Hetmon nestled snugly against Mingi, both looking so peaceful brought a smile to his lips and a sense of relief. Maro was finally settling in. With a soft click, he snapped a photo, capturing the unexpected tranquility of the moment before shooting you a quick text.

“How do you know when you’re done with a task?” Hetmon asked, as his long legs carried him easily down the path to the dog park. The sleek doberman slowed his pace so Mingi could keep up.

“I don’t know,” Mingi muttered, his fluffy tail wagging in uncertainty. “Maybe… when it feels right?”

“That’s not an answer! What does ‘feels right’ even mean? Like when your belly’s full after eating?”

“Well…no. There’s something about my transformation that I didn’t tell you about. There was a man…he referred to himself as The Judge. I think I have to find him.”

Hetmon tilted his head curiously, moving gracefully beside Mingi. “Like an adventure? Are we going on a really long walk?” His tail wagged once, and he nudged Mingi playfully. 

“What’s a judge, anyway?”

Mingi let out an exaggerated huff, his fluffy body bouncing slightly as Yeosang unleashed him. “A judge is, like…someone who decides stuff. Big stuff. Like who’s right, who’s wrong, and what happens next.”

“Oh, like my dad?”

“Not exactly.” Mingi frowned, struggling to explain. “A judge is about…being fair.” He paused, his small ears twitching as dogs of all shapes and sizes zoomed past. Mingi barely noticed them, lost in thought. 

“The Judge decides if you’ve been bad or good,” he said, his tone growing quieter. “And if you deserve a second chance.”

Hetmon slowed his pace, glancing down at Mingi as they weaved through a bustling cluster of dogs sniffing at a water fountain. “So, what does he do if you don’t?”

Mingi froze, his fluffy tail stiffening as the unsettling atmosphere settled around them. The playful barks and chatter of the park faded, replaced by an eerie silence that made his hackles stand. Hetmon’s sharp ears swiveled forward, his nose twitching as he scanned their surroundings.

“Do you feel that?” he asked, his voice lowering to a cautious rumble.

Before Mingi could respond, a new presence entered their field of vision. A black cat perched atop a nearby bench, its eyes glinting with an unsettling intensity. It was a small thing, lithe and elegant, yet its presence carried an almost tangible weight. Its tail swished lazily, but there was nothing casual about the way it stared at them.

“Surprised to see me, Maro?” the cat purred, its voice smooth and taunting as it stretched languidly. Without breaking eye contact, it hopped down from the bench with a graceful leap and began to saunter toward them, its paws making no sound against the ground.

“You’re looking...lighter. Did someone have a little emotional breakthrough last night?”

Mingi’s ears flattened against his head, and his nose scrunched in irritation. “Who are you?”

Hetmon’s tail wagged excitedly, oblivious to the tension. “Hey, it’s a cat! Are you here to play too?”

The black cat let out a soft laugh, the sound equal parts amusement and condescension. “Oh, I’m always here to play,” it said, its tone dripping with mock sincerity. Its piercing eyes slid back to Mingi, a playful glint in them. 

“But I don’t expect you to remember me in this form. You know, considering the state you were in last time we spoke.”

Mingi blinked, confusion spreading across his puppy face as he studied the cat more closely, trying to make sense of the situation. “The last time?” He squinted, his nose twitching as he sniffed the air, piecing the puzzle together.

“You’re the Judge.”

“In the flesh,” Wooyoung said, with an exaggerated bow. “Though, this is only one of the many forms I can take.”

“Why are you here?” Mingi growled, his nerves beginning to fray. There was something unnervingly calm about the cat’s presence.

“I was in the neighborhood,” Wooyoung replied casually, his voice light but carrying an underlying warmth. “And I couldn’t resist seeing how our dear Maro is holding up. Word is, someone’s been dabbling in a bit of self-reflection.” 

He circled Mingi, his movements more curious than menacing. Mingi, however, wasn’t taking any chances. He scowled, puffing up his hackles instinctively, his narrowed eyes following Wooyoung’s every move.

“Imagine my shock when I heard whispers about you sharing your feelings and letting others in.”

Mingi’s fluffy tail gave an involuntary twitch, and his ears flattened against his head. If dogs could blush, he would’ve been beet red. “And what about it?” he barked, his voice rising in embarrassed frustration.

“Aw, don’t be shy,” Wooyoung teased, his grin spreading wide and sharp, though his eyes sparkled with something closer to amusement than malice. “It’s adorable, really.”

Hetmon, ever the optimist, wagged his tail harder. “Sounds like you’re doing great! Even the kitty thinks so.”

“But I give credit where it’s due,” Wooyoung said, pausing mid-step to preen his face.

“You completed your first task, and it looks good on you. Dare I say, you might actually be growing as a person.” He let the compliment linger before flicking his gaze to Mingi’s fluffy form. “Or… dog. Whatever.”

“Uh… thanks, I guess?” Mingi muttered, his defensive posture softening slightly, though his tail still twitched with lingering unease.

“Don’t let it go to your head, fluffball,” he said, his grin returning, but now it was less sharp, almost fond. “You’ve still got a ways to go. But…” He tilted his head, his golden eyes glinting in the soft light. 

“I suppose I’ll be watching with mild interest.”

For all of Wooyoung’s teasing, there was an odd comfort in the knowledge that someone—however mischievous—was paying attention to his journey.

“Maro!”

Mingi’s ears perked up instantly, his heart leaping at the sound of your voice. His head whipped around, and there you were, jogging toward him, grinning ear to ear. He didn’t think—he just bolted toward you, his excitement erupting in a series of joyous barks that echoed through the park.

Before you could even brace yourself, he launched himself into your arms. You stumbled slightly under the force of his leap, but your laughter bubbled out, ruffling his furn in that perfect way that always made him melt.

“I missed you so much!” you said, your voice warm and full of affection. You leaned your cheek against his head, holding him like you never wanted to let go. 

“Looks like you had fun while I was gone.”

Fun? Sure, the dog park was fine. Hetmon was great. Even the bizarre encounter with Wooyoung had been…something. But none of it compared to this. None of it compared to you.

Mingi leaned his fluffy body into you, letting out a soft whine as his eyes closed. Your touch, your voice, your laugh—it was everything he didn’t know he needed until now. He’d missed you more than he could say, more than this form would allow him to show.

His mind wandered, as it often did, to a future where he wasn’t just a dog but himself again. Would you see him differently? Would you understand how much he cared, how much he’d changed? Would you give him a chance?

Maybe, just maybe, you’d look at him the way you did now—with a warmth that made him feel like the center of your world. The thought sent a spark of hope blooming in his chest, as bright and fragile as the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

Your arms tightened around him slightly, pulling him back to the present. And for now, that was enough. Mingi let out a soft, contented huff, nuzzling into you as if to say, I missed you, too.

“What’s gotten into you?” you teased.

Yeosang trotted over with Hetmon by his side. “He was a champ while you were gone,” he said, “but I think someone’s been counting the minutes until you came back.”

You laughed again, running your hand over Mingi’s head as he leaned into your touch. “Is that true, Maro? Were you waiting for me?”

Mingi barked softly in response, his tail wagging furiously now. In this moment, everything felt perfect. There was so much he wanted to say, words that his current form couldn’t fully express. But he would wait. He would wait for you, no matter how long it took. 

<< ii | iv >>

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𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐? 𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙱𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚎

𝙽𝚘𝚠 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙴𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙱𝚢 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 "𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝙰𝚑, 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎 (𝚊𝚑𝚊𝚑𝚊)"

𝚈𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚗 𝙲𝚘𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚎 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜

𝙻𝚎𝚝'𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝'𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎

𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚟𝚎 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙵𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙵𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚂𝚒𝚡𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚂𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙴𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝙽𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗 𓆉 𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚜 𝙴𝚙. 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢

I love this series so for and I can’t wait to read more! <3

strangers by nature | ii

Pairing: heir!Song Mingi x heir!Reader AU: non-idol | arranged marriage | enemies to lovers Genre: angst, humor, fluff in future chapters Summary: After a life-altering car accident, Mingi is given one final shot at redemption—reborn as a fuzzy little puppy. To earn a second chance at life, he must complete three tasks or risk being doomed to the afterlife forever. Word Count: 6.4K Warnings: mingi being a mean brat, puppy antics, swearing, hints of infidelity, slight angst

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A hollow laugh escaped Mingi as he sped through the empty streets, the night blurring around him. The bitter sound echoed in the car, mirroring the anger swirling inside him. He could still see the look on your face, that fierce, unyielding defiance in your eyes as you’d confronted him without a trace of hesitation.

"Maybe you should have fought harder against your parents instead of just rolling over every time they threw you a command. Including this marriage.”

You hadn’t raised your voice, hadn’t even looked angry. But the certainty in your words had cut deeper than anything he could remember. You’d said it so effortlessly, without a shred of remorse or regret, like you hadn’t given his ego a second thought.

And it infuriated him. 

Mingi was accustomed to people bending to his will, not challenging it. His life had always been cushioned by entitlement; his family’s wealth and influence ensured that. People smiled, nodded, and let him have his way—whether it was his colleagues, teachers, or anyone who understood the weight of the Song name. When he wanted something, he got it; when he didn't want something, someone else made it disappear. Life was simple, easy. Predictable.

He’d assumed you’d be no different. The arrangement your parents had orchestrated was supposed to be convenient, uncomplicated. You’d go along with it quietly, play your part, and leave him to live as he pleased.

But he’d been wrong. Terribly, wrong.

From the moment you entered his life, you were a force to be reckoned with—unyielding and resolute, unafraid to show how little you cared for the life planned for you. 

News of your attempted escape had reached him before he even saw you. You’d made it as far as the airport, ticket in hand, your heart set on a life free from the restraints of duty. But then, your parents intervened, having anticipated your plans. They’d sent the authorities to intercept you at the gate, dragging you back home just as freedom was within reach.

You argued, you bargained, and you did everything short of bolting a second time as they walked you into that boardroom on your wedding day. Mingi had been there, watching as you approached, and even in that moment, you’d made it clear through your narrowed gaze and rigid posture that you were entering this marriage under protest.

Though you resisted the marriage and all it represented, you held a deep sense of empathy for him, understanding that he too was bound by this fate. Your efforts to extend an olive branch and build some semblance of a friendship, only served as a reminder of how deeply entangled your lives had become against his will.

And Mingi always made it clear that no matter how much you tried to extend kindness or bridge the distance, he was set on tearing it down.

When your parents organized a small birthday dinner for you, Mingi didn’t even bother to show. He didn’t call, didn’t text—he simply forgot. The sting of his absence felt like a gut punch, even if it was hardly surprising. His indifference when you mentioned it later was almost worse. 

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” he shrugged, barely glancing up from his phone, his tone cool, unaffected. The casual dismissal in his voice, the complete lack of apology, was almost worse than his absence itself. 

The implication was clear: your birthday, and by extension, you, were not significant enough to be remembered.

It wasn’t until later, when meeting your cousin Jongho for lunch, that the truth hit even harder. Apparently, he’d heard from a friend of a friend that Ahri had posted on social media about her “spontaneous Tokyo getaway” with Mingi, complete with photos of their cozy seats on a private plane and playful captions flaunting their lavish trip. 

Then, there was the night San hosted his charity art auction, one of the biggest events of the year. It was the kind of evening meant to bring people together for a good cause, filled with artists and patrons, all of them dedicated to supporting the community. 

But Mingi had a different idea in mind. He arrived with Ahri, both of them looking effortlessly stunning and either blissfully unaware or fully conscious of the painful message they conveyed. Your in-laws were mortified, apologizing to you profusely, trying to smooth over the spectacle their son had created.

“When will you grow up and stop making a mockery of our family?” Mr. Song fumed through gritted teeth. 

"I thought we had a deal," Mingi replied coldly. "All I had to do was agree to this arrangement, and I could still have Ahri and live my life however I wanted."

Mr. Song’s face tightened with rage, his voice a low growl as he struggled to keep it down. 

“What I meant, Mingi, was for you to show some tact! Not to flaunt Ahri around and humiliate your spouse in front of everyone. It’s childish, and it reflects poorly on you. The least you can do is respect Y/N!”

“Respect Y/N?” Mingi scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “Respecting her would mean pretending it’s something real. But we all know why this is happening—more money and more power for you. None of this has anything to do with me or what I want.”

“You may resent it, but you are benefiting from it all the same. And that means you owe Y/N some basic decency, if nothing else.”

“This arrangement took my choices away. It trapped me in a life I never wanted. And now you’re telling me to be grateful for it? To pretend that this marriage means something to me?”

“When will you stop being selfish and think about others for once? Consider that Y/N never asked for this either.”

As if disregarding you in private wasn’t enough, Mingi took every chance to publicly humiliate you, constantly reminding you of your place—always on the outside, looking in.

The situation reached a boiling point at last year’s Gold Gala when he arrived completely drunk, blatantly reinforcing that your feelings and the event's social grace meant nothing to him.

As he staggered through the hall, his laugh rang out too loudly, drawing stares from guests who exchanged uncomfortable glances. His gestures grew more careless and exaggerated with every passing moment, completely oblivious to the hurt on your face, tainting one of the most important nights of your life.

“No, I’m not much into charity—though I guess marrying Ms. Choi counts.”

“I’m not here to support her, she begged me to be here. Begged me to care. Pathetic, right?”

By the time you arrived home, the tension was suffocating. You could still feel the embarrassment, lingering on you like a second skin you couldn’t escape.

“Don’t kid yourself into thinking this arrangement means anything. You're nobody to me.”

"Of course I know that!” The words flew out before you could stop yourself, raw and jagged. “All I asked was for you to be there because this event meant everything to me. Everything!" 

"I thought we could at least be civil, Mingi.”

“Civil?” He raised an eyebrow, his tone dripping with disdain. "You’re so desperate to play house, to fool yourself into thinking I’ll somehow feel something for you? By begging for it?" 

His gaze was cold, dismissive, as if you were nothing more than a stranger who had intruded into his life, uninvited.

Your jaw dropped at the sheer audacity of his words. Who was this pompous prick, standing here acting as if you’d imposed your existence on him? The last thread holding your patience snapped, and before you knew it, a dry, humorless laugh escaped you.

“Feel something?” you spat, unable to hold back the fury building in your chest. 

“Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re a catch either. Think whatever you want,” you shot back, your voice sharp and unwavering, “but I’m not the one who needs someone else to validate my worth!”

He blinked, momentarily stunned, his expression shifting as he tried to brush off your words with a sneer. But you could tell that something you’d said had struck a nerve.

“You’ve never cared about anything, Mingi. You don’t even know what it means to care about someone or something—because you’ve always had everything handed to you. There’s nothing that’s ever been meaningful to you because you’ve never had to fight for it!”

It infuriated Mingi—the way you exposed all the things he hated most about himself, holding a mirror up to the person he tried so hard to ignore. And that was something he couldn’t allow. He needed to keep you at a distance, to shut you down. 

Because if he didn't, he feared you might penetrate his defenses entirely—and he couldn't risk that.

As he sat in the warm, soapy water, Mingi’s tiny paws barely poked out from beneath a cloud of bubbles. He lifted a paw, watching droplets fall into the water, creating soft ripples that lapped against his sides. It was surreal. He had once scoffed at the very idea of being anything less than in control, of ever letting himself be so openly…helpless.

Everything looked bigger, more intimidating from down here and he felt smaller, more than he ever had.

Your gentle laughter pulled him back as you poured a bit more soap into the bath, sending a fresh wave of bubbles his way. You dipped your hand into the water, playfully scooping up the suds and sprinkling them over his head. 

He wiggled, instinctively shaking his head as the bubbles landed, but they clung stubbornly to his nose and ears, making him sneeze. The tiny sneeze seemed to amuse you even more, your laughter ringing out, warm and unguarded.

“We’ll find something for you to eat after this. Do you like chicken?” you cooed, your voice warm and sweet as you continued fussing over him. “That reminds me, we need to stop by the pet store.”

Mingi blinked up at you, the sound of your voice oddly comforting, even as it filled him with a peculiar ache he didn’t quite know what to do with. Here you were, utterly unaware that this tiny, scruffy puppy was your own husband, yet you treated him with a care and tenderness he felt he didn't deserve.

“I should probably think of a name for you,” you murmured thoughtfully, rinsing away the last bits of sudsy bubbles. 

His little face scrunched up as he shook his head, sending droplets flying. You grabbed the softest towel, bundling him up so that only his nose and eyes peeked out. Placing him on the bathroom counter, you noticed how his tiny body almost disappeared within the towel’s folds, leaving just a pair of adoring eyes staring up at you.

“You’re so tiny, you might get blown away!” you teased, testing the warmth of the hair dryer on your wrist. His expression turned into the cutest scowl imaginable, as if he was about to bark out a protest.

I’m not little! Mingi gritted, scrunching his tiny brows and squirming as if to show you he was tougher than he looked. He let out a bark, to prove you wrong.

“Alright, sorry, I didn’t mean it,” you giggled. 

You began to gently dry him, moving the warm air over his fur. His eyelids started to droop, each puff of warm air lulling him into a sleepy daze. 

“Pom Pom’s a cute name. What do you think?” you mused with a laugh, scratching him behind his tiny ear. Mingi managed to huff out a small whimper in protest in an attempt to communicate that you certainly were not to call him by that name. 

“Fine, fine. How about…Maro? You’re white and fluffy like a marshmallow?” You tilted your head, smiling as you gently tapped the tip of his nose.

Mingi grumbled, feeling his pride melt under the sheer humiliation, but he went along with the name. Despite his desire to resist, he couldn’t deny the comfort of being doted on—even if it meant accepting his temporary fate as your “Maro.”

Mingi stirred awake, feeling an unfamiliar warmth against his tiny body, the soft texture of grass beneath him. Blinking his eyes open, he was met with a new world—everything was…bigger. The trees stretched toward the sky, and the distant hum of city life felt overwhelming. Disoriented, he tried to make sense of his surroundings, his mind struggling to adjust to this small, delicate form.

Everything smelled sharper, richer: the earthy scent of wet grass, a faint whiff of antiseptic, and…something achingly familiar, pulling him forward as if his paws moved on their own accord.

Guided by the scent, he scrambled over roots and pushed through damp bushes, his little body squeezing through the brambles. As he finally emerged on the other side, he froze. Just a few feet away, sitting alone on a bench, was the source of the familiar scent—Y/N?

His wife sat there, hands clasped tightly, her gaze distant and tired, as if the weight of the world rested on her shoulders. But just as he took another small step forward, her eyes lifted and fell upon him. Her expression brightened, and the faintest hint of a smile warmed her face as she crouched down, reaching out to him.

“Puppy!” she gasped with an excitement that Mingi could feel down to his little paws. She beckoned him closer, and he trotted toward her, heart racing, wondering if somehow, even in this form, she could recognize him.

You held him close as you left the hospital, your hand gently supporting his back as he rested against your chest. Once you reached the car, you eased into the driver’s seat and settled him in your lap, feeling his soft fur beneath your fingers as you stroked him reassuringly.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you scrolled through your contacts until you reached your mother-in-law’s number. Taking a steadying breath, you hit the call button, hoping she’d understand your exit.

"Hello? Everything alright, Y/N?"

“I just wanted to let you know I’m heading home,” you replied, keeping your tone light. “There are a few things I need to take care of, but I’ll make sure to call later to check in.”

There was a brief pause on her end before she answered, “Of course, dear. Take your time, I’ll talk to you later.”

As you ended the call, Mingi blinked up at you, feeling strangely vulnerable in your arms. Being held and cherished like this was both comforting and overwhelming, a rare moment of intimacy that left him feeling exposed. The realization that someone could care for him so deeply stirred something inside him—a reminder of just how unfamiliar this feeling was, and how unsettling it felt to let someone in.

“Ready to go home?”

On the drive back, you hummed a quiet tune, the same one you always sang absentmindedly when you thought no one was listening. As he nestled into your lap, he felt himself relax, leaving behind a sense of peace he hadn’t felt in ages.

The bell above the pet store door jingled as you stepped inside, your eyes scanning aisles lined with every kind of pet accessory imaginable.

You wandered the aisles in a daze as Mingi, in his puppy form, bounced excitedly, his tiny tail whipping back and forth with unrestrained enthusiasm. His instincts urged him to sniff and mouth every item you tossed into the cart—toys, treats, leashes, a bed, and a sweater.

For a moment, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disbelief—shopping for puppy supplies while your husband’s life was hanging by a thread was surreal.

“Your puppy’s really cute.”

You turned to see a man holding onto the leash of a doberman that looked every bit as sharp as its owner. The dog sat obediently by his side, dark eyes focused and alert, muscles taut beneath its sleek coat. The man’s presence was striking, especially with his stoic demeanor that made him appear almost statuesque.

“Thanks!” you nodded, smiling. “He’s really sweet, even if he’s got a bit of an attitude.” Your eyes drifted to the gentle way his hand stroked between the doberman’s ears. 

“You look like you know what you’re doing, though.”

The man chuckled. “Thanks, he’s actually my first dog. I adopted him when his previous owner passed away. His name is Hetmon.”

Your expression softened. “I’m so sorry to hear that,” you replied sympathetically, kneeling down to greet him. 

“Can I say hi?” you asked, extending your hand for Hetmon to sniff.

The doberman’s wet nose pressed against your palm, and he let out a soft huff before nuzzling his head into your hand. You laughed, scratching him behind his ear, marveling at his calm and steady temperament. 

Now, hold on! Mingi’s eyes snapped up as he watched you fawning over this stranger’s dog. His little heart thudded, an unfamiliar surge of irritation bubbling up inside him. 

Why are you smiling like that? Why are you speaking to another man? Get away from him!

He let out a little growl, then puffed up his tiny chest and erupted into a string of yappy barks, standing tall on his hind legs in the cart. His little nose scrunched up as he tried to look intimidating, but it was more endearing than anything else. You glanced over, bemused, as he glowered with all the fierceness his tiny form could muster.

“I think your puppy is upset,” the man pointed out with a chuckle.

“Aww, don’t worry, Maro,” you cooed, “you’re still my favorite.” 

You scooped him up, planting a kiss right between his ears, which sent his little tail wagging against his will. You set him down gently on the floor, letting him meet Hetmon face-to-face. Mingi’s bravado wavered slightly as he looked up at the towering Doberman, but he squared his tiny shoulders, refusing to back down.

“Is Hetmon good with other dogs?” you asked, watching them carefully.

“Oh, yeah. He’s a total softie,” the man reassured you. “He may look tough, but he loves making new friends.”

As if on cue, Hetmon dipped into a playful bow. Mingi froze, watching the giant dog before him as he lowered his head in an exaggerated invitation to play. For a moment, the puppy tried to keep his air of superiority, giving a tiny huff as if he wasn’t the least bit interested.

But then he gave a low, friendly woof and Mingi’s puppy instincts kicked in. He took a tentative step forward, then another, his own tail starting to sway. Before he knew it, he pounced forward with his little paws outstretched, mimicking Hetmon’s play bow.

“Maro, you made a friend!” you cheered, watching in delight as the puppy bounced around with the older dog. Pulling out your phone, you couldn’t resist capturing the moment, captivated by the unlikely friendship forming before you.

“Looks like opposites attract,” Hetmon’s owner mused as he watched the two dogs circle each other, darting forward and bouncing back and forth.

“I’m Yeosang, by the way,” he added, turning to you with a friendly smile.

“Y/N,” you replied. “Nice to meet you. Do you live around here?”

“Yeah, actually, just a couple of streets over,” Yeosang said with a nod. He looked down at Hetmon, who was now reclining on his back, seemingly unfazed by the puppy climbing on him. 

“What about you?”

You smiled, watching the scene with amusement. “Same. Maro’s also my first dog, so I’ve been figuring things out as I go.”

Yeosang’s expression softened, his smile encouraging. “I remember that feeling. It’s a little overwhelming at first, but you get the hang of it. If you ever need any advice or a friendly ear, just reach out. There’s a park nearby that’s dog-friendly. I usually go there in the mornings if you’d like to join sometime.”

“I’d really like that. Thanks.”

Yeosang's easygoing grin faltered as he felt a tug at his shoelace. He looked down to see the tiny pup gnawing determinedly, jaws snapping at the string.

How dare you speak to her so casually! She’s a married woman! Mingi seethed internally, giving the string another sharp tug. Why did it bother him so much to see Yeosang chatting with you? He hadn't cared much about you before, but seeing you smile at another man so naturally baffled him.

What is wrong with me? He let out a low growl—though intended to be intimidating—would have been menacing if he weren’t so tiny. Right now, all he wanted was for Yeosang to take a step back, to stop talking to you like you belonged to anyone else but him—even though he couldn't say why.

“Maro, what are you up to?” you laughed, crouching down to pick him up. You slipped your hands beneath his belly, lifting him gently. But Mingi wasn’t done making his point. 

Nestled in your arms, Mingi twisted slightly, nudging your left hand insistently with his head. He pressed his nose right against your ring, his puppy eyes wide with urgency. 

See this? She’s taken! He gave a little huff and looked back at Yeosang with the tiniest scowl he could manage.

Yeosang, oblivious to the true intentions behind the pup’s actions, chuckled softly. “Looks like he’s tired. Puppies need lots of sleep, you know.”

“Sounds like someone needs a nap,” you agreed, gently setting the little ball of jealousy back into the cart.

"Oh, before I go," Yeosang continued, reaching into his pocket, "here's my number."

Mingi’s ears perked up, and his tail stopped wagging immediately. If he could talk, he’d be grumbling a thousand complaints. But instead, he glared up at Yeosang, hoping his intense puppy stare would get his message across: Back off.

⋆

The last twenty-four hours had been nothing short of a whirlwind: the accident, waking up in a completely different form, and now trying to adjust to this strange new reality. He was still Mingi, still aware of his responsibilities and tasks, but now he had to figure out how to accomplish them…as a puppy.

He padded around the penthouse, his tiny paws making soft clicks on the polished floor as he aimlessly wandered, bored out of his mind now that you were both back from the pet store. The excitement of the outing had quickly worn off, and now all he could do was sulk in the silence of the house.

His little tail swished back and forth as he circled the living room, kitchen, your piano, and the second floor of the penthouse. Finally, his gaze landed on the door to his room. A mischievous gleam appeared in his eyes, and with a determined wag of his tail, he marched toward it.

You paced around the living room, contemplating how to propose your idea to your mother-in-law: staying overnight once a week with Mingi. The thought of him spending nights alone in the suite, surrounded only by machines, unsettled you. He wasn't exactly your biggest fan—he’d made it clear where his heart truly lay, and it wasn’t with you. Yet, the notion of someone always being there, watching over him, brought you a small measure of comfort amid the uncertainty.

As the worry gnawed at you, you knew you had to act. Taking a deep breath, you picked up the phone and dialed your mother-in-law.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s me,” you said, doing your best to sound composed. “I just got back from running errands and wanted to propose something.”

Her voice carried that usual guarded curiosity. “What are you suggesting?”

You respected your mother-in-law’s loyalty to her family, even if her protectiveness sometimes blinded her to Mingi’s faults. She had always been gracious to you, maintaining a sense of decorum that made you feel welcome but not entirely at ease. 

“I thought we could work out a schedule to stay overnight with Mingi at the hospital.”

There was a brief pause before she spoke, her voice carefully polite. “You’re very thoughtful, dear,” she began, “but…maybe it’s not necessary to stay all night. The nurses are attentive, and they promised to call us if anything changes.”

You glanced around the penthouse, searching for Maro, who had slipped away at some point. The quiet absence of the dog only added to the heavy silence, making the place feel even emptier.

“I have full confidence in his care team,” you replied, forcing each word into a polite, measured tone. 

“But I think Mingi would feel more supported if someone were there with him, at least some of the time. I was thinking I could stay overnight once or twice a week? Just so he doesn’t feel…forgotten.”

Mrs. Song paused just a moment, enough for you to feel that familiar flicker of hope—maybe she’d feel the same worry, feel something for her son that went deeper than surface-level appearances. 

But when she spoke, her words rang hollow. “Are you sure?” She hesitated, as if weighing how much emotion to offer before she could close herself off again. “I don’t want you to burn yourself out.”

“I’m sure. And I’ll take care of myself, I promise,” you replied, careful to keep any bitterness out of your voice.

“It’s the least I can do.”

“Well, I suppose there’s no one he’d be happier to see than you when he wakes up.”

You let the comment hang in the air, refraining from answering. The truth was far more complicated—it wasn’t about who Mingi wanted to see. It was about reminding him he wasn’t completely abandoned, despite how much he’d tried to push you away.

Murmuring a quick goodbye, you ended the call and let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, feeling a strange relief as the line clicked dead.

Standing in the quiet of the penthouse, you wondered how it was possible to care so deeply and feel so estranged at the same time. You exhaled slowly, taking a moment to let the frustration settle before setting off to find Maro, hoping the small presence of the dog might be the comfort you needed.

Mingi paused in front of the door, cocking his head and giving it a long, assessing look. The handle was far out of reach, far higher than any normal dog could ever hope to reach. 

With a huff, he pressed his tiny front paws against the door, trying to push and pull with all his might. When that failed, he gave up entirely on the handle and decided on a new strategy: digging.

He squatted down, wiggling his little rear end before he thrust his paws forward in an exaggerated motion, trying to dig under the door. His tiny claws scrabbled uselessly at the polished floor, making little scratching noises that seemed comically futile against the sleek, smooth surface.

He stopped for a moment, eyes narrowing in concentration, before he gave it another go—this time, with more vigor, his body wriggling in earnest as though the door might just give way if he showed it enough determination.

“Maro? What are you doing?” you asked, catching sight of the fluffball nosing determinedly at Mingi’s bedroom door.

He froze, glancing back at you with wide, innocent eyes, but his resolve didn’t waver. He turned back to the door, his eyes narrowing as if silently pleading with it to just open. 

You stifled a laugh at his antics. “Sorry, baby boy, but that room’s off limits.”

Your life with Mingi had been defined by boundaries—drawn lines, quiet distances, and spaces kept respectfully separate. Separate rooms, separate lives, and a marriage in name only. The closed door was a boundary, one you’d both agreed to uphold.

But it’s my room! He insisted with a bark of protest, his frustration evident. He didn’t want the carefully arranged, supposedly comfortable dog bed that sat innocently by the window. He wanted his own room, his own bed, and his own space.

“I don’t think Mingi would appreciate it if I let you in there,” you added wistfully.

Mingi could sense something in your voice—a sadness buried beneath your usual composed demeanor. His ears perked as he tilted his head, studying the way your shoulders slumped just slightly, the way your eyes lingered on the closed door before looking away. 

In that moment, he recognized that despite the walls between you, you were still here, trying to make the best of a life shaped by distance.

Letting out a small, resigned huff, he slowly padded over to the dog bed by the window, casting one last longing look at the door. Then, in a dramatic display, he flopped onto his back with a sigh, his little paws stretching up into the air, his fluffy belly exposed, hoping it might coax even the smallest smile from you.

Mingi wasn’t thrilled about giving up his room, but he figured if he could cheer you up—even a little—it was worth it. Because he knew, perhaps more than he wanted to admit, how lonely it must be for you, living in a world of closed doors.

"Thanks so much for meeting us here!" you greeted Yeosang warmly, handing him a cup of hot chocolate. His eyes lit up with a grateful smile as he accepted it, glancing down at Hetmon, who was already bouncing in place with excitement.

“No worries at all! I did say I’d be happy to answer any questions about dogs,” Yeosang replied, his gaze shifting to Maro, who sat at your feet, fixated on what would come next in your conversation.

You knelt down, scratching Maro gently behind his ears as the weight of your question settled in your chest. A tightness formed in your throat, and you hesitated, glancing up at Yeosang.

“Actually, I was hoping to talk to you about something…a little more serious, if that’s okay.”

Yeosang’s face softened, his usual bright energy shifting to a gentle calm as he took in your expression. His caring demeanor radiated warmth, an almost tangible reassurance that everything would be alright. 

“Of course,” he replied, his voice soft but encouraging. “I’m here for whatever you need.”

You unhooked Mingi from the leash, giving him a gentle nudge forward. “Go on, Maro,” you encouraged, motioning toward Hetmon, who was practically vibrating, his tail whipping the air behind him like a propeller.

"Hey, do you wanna play chase?" Hetmon asked eagerly, prancing in a tight circle around Mingi.

"We can also play fetch! My dad brought my favorite ball!"

But Mingi sat firmly in place, his tiny body angled away from Hetmon, focused entirely on your conversation with Yeosang. He narrowed his eyes, stubbornly ignoring the playful advances. As far as he was concerned, Yeosang’s angelic demeanor deserved the highest level of suspicion.

“No,” the puppy pouted, his voice stubborn and unmoving.

Undeterred, Hetmon scooted closer, nudging Mingi’s side with his nose. "Come on, just one game! I’ll even let you catch me!" He bounced in front of Mingi, crouching low in an exaggerated play bow, his tail wagging furiously.

Mingi huffed, his small body stiffening as he resisted the pull of Hetmon’s enthusiasm. He cast the doberman a sidelong glare that would’ve been intimidating—if he were anything bigger than a fluffball.

"No, I want to stay here," Mingi grumbled. "Your father is trying to hit on my wife."

Hetmon tilted his head, blinking with wide-eyed innocence. "That can’t be your wife; she’s not a dog. She’s your mom."

Mingi’s tiny temper flared, but he reminded himself he was dealing with someone with the mental equivalent of a toddler.

"Look, I don’t expect you to understand, but she’s my wife. If I tell you what happened, would you leave me alone?"

Hetmon sat back, pausing thoughtfully, his tail still wagging. "Okay, I’ll listen!”

Mingi sighed, rolling his eyes as if explaining was a chore. "Alright, so before I got...uh, transformed," he said, waving a paw at his small, fluffy body with obvious disdain, 

"I was married to Y/N. Then I got into a car accident."

Hetmon’s eyes went wide with awe, tail wagging in anticipation. "So… you died and became a dog?"

"No!" Mingi barked, his chest puffed. "I was transformed into one because I did bad things.” The words came out quietly, almost like a confession, and he glanced away, embarrassed. 

“I have three months to complete three tasks, or else I’m stuck like this… forever."

Hetmon tilted his head, his big eyes full of innocent curiosity as he tried to wrap his mind around Mingi’s words. He watched Mingi for a moment, then his tail gave a tentative wag.

“What do you have to do? Can I help?” Hetmon asked eagerly. 

“My dad says we always have to help friends!”

Friends. The word stung more than Mingi expected, a sudden reminder of how few people he truly trusted or felt close to. Yunho was really his only friend, the one person he could count on without question. 

He shifted uncomfortably, his thoughts drifting to the tight circle of people he called acquaintances: the other Choi’s, the son of Park Enterprises… all hand-picked connections meant to strengthen his family’s standing, but none of those relationships had ever felt genuine. 

Had he done this on purpose? Had he pushed people away to keep himself safe, to avoid the risk of betrayal or disappointment? Maybe he’d chosen solitude to protect himself from the sting of being left behind—but he hadn’t expected it to feel so empty now, as he sat here realizing that even a dog like Hetmon was willing to reach out with kindness.

“Okay, well...I guess,” Mingi sighed. 

You swallowed hard, fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup as you fought to steady yourself. The sunlight hit your wedding ring, casting a soft glow over the diamonds—a gleaming, constant reminder of the life you were bound to. In a way, it felt more like a chain. Taking a deep breath, you chose your words carefully. 

“My…husband was in a really bad car wreck the other night. He’s in a coma right now,” you said, the words thick and heavy, as if each one were being forced out. 

The reality of it all settled in the air between you and Yeosang, and you could feel his compassion in the way he listened to you. His brow creased with concern as he took in your words, his quiet presence urging you to press on.

“I’ve made arrangements to spend at least one night a week at the hospital,” you continued, forcing yourself to look down at your cup rather than meet his eyes. 

“It’s hard to explain, but I guess I don’t want him to be…alone, even if he can’t really tell.”

Your voice trailed off as a feeling of helplessness welled up within you. You wanted to believe that Mingi could somehow sense your presence, that maybe your being there would make even a small difference. But at the same time, you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that your visits might mean more to you than they did to him.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s a lot to carry. I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for you. But you’re doing your best to be there for him, even when it’s painful.”

You felt a slight relief in his understanding, in the way he didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. “Thank you,” you whispered, feeling the weight of Yeosang’s empathy. 

“I also don’t mean to impose but…would you mind letting Maro stay over just one night a week? Until I figure things out?” you asked sheepishly. “He’s still so little, and I don’t want him to feel abandoned while I’m gone.”

“Of course, Y/N, don't feel bad for asking!” Yeosang nodded enthusiastically.

“Maro will be in great hands, I promise. I know Hetmon would love having him over! It’ll be like…boys' night, and I can build a fort for them, we can eat snacks…”

Yeosang’s eyes sparkled with genuine excitement as he spoke, his infectious energy making you smile despite your concerns. He had a knack for making the most mundane plans sound like grand adventures, and his lighthearted spirit was always a comforting presence.

The unexpected kindness caught you off guard, causing your shoulders to relax.

“Really?” you murmured, struggling to believe that someone truly understood and wanted to help in such a straightforward yet meaningful way.

“You're dealing with so much right now. I'm glad to help, even if it's small.” For a moment, you felt a lump rise in your throat, the weight of his words grounding you in a world that often felt chaotic and uncertain.

“You don’t have to face all this on your own,” Yeosang added, his words carrying a depth that felt like a lifeline. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hetmon barreling across the grassy field, with Maro bounding right behind him as they zig-zagged through the park. The sight of the two playing together made you smile.

“Hetmon, come have some water!” Yeosang called out. 

The doberman’s ears perked up, and he shifted course, galloping toward his owner, excited for his water break. Maro, bounded after him, and hopped up onto your lap, nuzzling into your arms.

“Maro, guess what! You’re going to have a sleepover with Hetmon!” you announced, patting him gently. The words slipped out with casual enthusiasm, thinking it’d be fun for him to spend a night with someone who’s growing so fond of him.

What!?

Mingi’s gaze darted from you to Yeosang, then to Hetmon, who was still wagging his tail, blissfully unaware of the turmoil stirring inside him.

Despite his best efforts to stay aloof and independent, he had come to rely on your presence—the warmth, the comfort, and the steady sense of grounding you brought to his strange new world. The thought of being without that, even for just a night, filled him with something he was unwilling to admit to himself: fear.

<< i | iii >>

a/n: ughhh my taglist is ugly, I can't tag more than 5 blogs to a line now, so forgive me for the formatting

taglist: @syubseokie @koyagifs @sunnysidesins @thedistractedwriter @notevenheretbh1

@molberto @litolmochi @intowxnderland @yn-reincarnate @lemonkait00

@corgilover20 @randomgworlypop @taegi1016 @almondtofu006 @ateezaddict24

@desi2go @beabatiny @sangilov-r @roomsofangel @symmieangela

@dumplingsyum @etaerealboy @fairylover68 @foxinnie8

@yoonrixx @jean-swolo @silent-potato @jiwoongsblondehair @sanriomilk

@sanniesbum

𓇼 𝘈𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘻 𝘍𝘪𝘤 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘌𝘱.𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳! 𓇼 𓆞 𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𓆞 𓇼 𝘔𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴/𝘈𝘨𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴/𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘉𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𓇼 𓇼 𝘰𝘵8/𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘪𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 A Cup Of Care - @woncon poly!woosan x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Ad Astra per Aspera - @alxtiny pirate!ot8 x navigator!reader (series) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Ateez as Disney Princes - @edenesth disney prince!ot8 x disney princess!reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ateez Meeting Single Mom Reader [Part One] [Part Two] - @reallychaoticwoo ot8 x single mom!reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Ateez When Their S/o Gives Them Cuteness Aggression - @elllisaaa ot8 x reader (scenarios) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘬𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘫𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Anything You Could Do, I Could Do Better! - @pyeonghongrie teacher!hongjoong x teacher!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Back Off! I’m Married - @solaris-amethyst non-idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Behind Closed Doors - @domm1etae idol!hongjoong x idol!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Boy With The Pearl Necklace - @hongjoongtime117 idol!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Day & Night - @youngies-bae predebut!hongjoong x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘸𝘢 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 16.51 - @itstheghostofmypast bf!university student!seonghwa x university student!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 [23.27] - @yizhou-time non-idol!seonghwa x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Beneath The Candlelight - @atzaurora bf!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Breakfast - @littlefireball bf!seonghwa x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Dirty My Ride - @starminzoo rider!seonghwa x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Boyfriend - @notsoverymerry bf!yunho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Communion - @kitten4sannie priest!yunho x nun!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Did You Like Her In The Morning?, Yunho | Die With A Smile, Yunho - @halaboyz bf!yunho x reader (two povs) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Don’t Smile - @tyungelic ex!yunho x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Drunk - @sweetiesicheng non-idol!yunho x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸

𓇼 𝘬𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘦𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 Behind The Eyes - @srslyscary non-idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Chicken Date - @augustbutwinter non-idol!yeosang x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Don't Forget About Me - @idyllic-ghost idol!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Fever - @beenbaanbuun bf!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Jennifer’s Body!Yeosang - @justaaveragereader jennifer!yeosang x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 3:03 am - @323cutie bf!san x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Baby, Love Me Lights Out - @hongjoongspoetry idol!san x reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Choi San As Associate Professor - @melsvt associate professor!fiancee!san x reader (drabble) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Crimson - @hwaslayer non-idol!san x stripper!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Destined To Be A Girl Dad - @makeitmingi dad!san x mom!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘪 𓇼 𓈒𓏸 3:07am - @/cheryrri bf!mingi x reader (timestamp) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Broken Doll - @freyaphoria yandere!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Cold Red Iron - @bvidzsoo iron man!mingi x secretary!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Dinner Table - @mingi-s-dimples bf!non-idol!mingi x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Friends To Lovers With Mingi - @lxvemaze friend!idol!mingi x reader (texts) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘫𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘰𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𓇼 𓆞 Almost Home - @shadowkoo bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Better Make This Quick - @xosannie non-idol!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 Craving The Storm - @atzaurora bf!wooyoung x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Crown Heist - @srslyscary thief!wooyoung x queen!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓈒𓏸 Cyberpunk's Bartender - @rems-writing bartender!wooyoung x gn!reader (one-shot) 𓈒𓏸 𓇼 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘫𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘩𝘰 𓇼 𓆞 Back From The Dead - @essenteez vampire!jongho x reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Finding Our Way Back - @03jyh23 ex-bf!idol!jongho x ex-gf!single-mom!reader (series) 𓈒𓏸 𓆞 Mr. CEO - @/milkandhwaney ceo!jongho x employee!reader (one-shot) 𓆞 𓆞 My Comfort Is You - @crimsonbubble dilf!jongho x reader (drabble) 𓆞 𓈒𓏸 Punk Jongho Headcanon - @rems-writing punk!jongho × sweetheart!reader (headcanon) 𓈒𓏸

WE GOT ONE!!!!! THANK YOU!!!!

This was really good! Love the angst and the ending too. <3

You’re My Dream

౨ৎ PAIRING— rockstar!jeong yunho x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— fluff, ended relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 1.4k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you broke up because he was too focused on his music dream, but maybe you and love were the real dream all along.

౨ৎ A/N— i saw a lot of people saying they wanted a oneshot with the concept photos from the 2025 seasons greetings, so i made one! i hope you like it, even though it isn’t quite as angsty as you probably wanted :( still, feedback is appreciated and thanks for reading, lovelies! <3 (i’ll tag a few people who said they were interested if someone wrote one: @beabatiny, @goldendynastys, @kibs-and-bits)

Staring at the fire crackling, you try to hold back the tears that threaten to escape. When had it all gone so wrong?

Just last year, you had been enjoying your boyfriend’s Christmas show with his rock band, and now you’re sitting alone, the night before Christmas.

The crackling of the fire adds to your melancholy, the harsh cold winds blowing outside creating a gloomy atmosphere. You know you should forget like he has, but you can’t throw away two years of your life that easily.

The memories of last Christmas come flooding back to you, even as you try to suppress them. Memories of sitting beside the fire with Yunho, cuddling as you watched a cheesy Christmas movie. Or baking Christmas cookies together at his apartment, laughing as you threw flour at each other.

Turning to the remote controller, you press the power button, not expecting to see him on the screen. His band is playing, and you immediately feel a pang in your chest at the sight of him, his fingers dashing across the keyboard.

Even though he’s the keyboard player and not the lead singer, he has an air about him that draws you in, making it unable to look away, even as you know you should. Why is he still having this effect on you?

The song is one you recognize. “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call,” by Bleachers.

It’s a song he’d introduced to you last Christmas, and, even though it’s sad, it had been a source of joy for you in a way last year, because you remember dancing to the song with him, smiling and laughing.

Now, it really is sad.

When he gets up at the end of the song, leaning into the microphone, you furrow your eyebrows, listening.

“That song goes out to someone I lost a year ago today.” He looks right at the camera, his brown eyes sparkling with unshed tears. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish it had been different, but know that I never really stopped loving you.”

You gasp, only momentarily questioning if he’s really talking to you, before you jump up, now determined to make things right for some reason. You know it’ll probably end in more heartache, but you have to try.

Grabbing your keys and coat, you hurry out the door into the winter storm, unlocking your car before hopping in.

Even though the roads are horrible tonight, you know the way to his apartment like the back of your hand, only slowing because of the snow.

About twenty minutes later, you arrive at his apartment complex, hurrying out of the car, through the blinding snow, and into the lobby of the building.

You try to calm yourself down, stepping into the elevator and pressing the button to the fourth floor.

When you get to the floor, you walk down the hall, slowing to a stop in front of his door. Taking a deep breath, you knock.

It takes about two minutes, but the door opens, revealing a messy-haired Yunho, a few locks of his dark blue hair having fallen in front of his brown eyes, which widen at the sight of you.

“Y/N?” he whispers, his hand clutching the doorknob so tight you think he might break it. “What are you doing here?”

“I saw the program.”

“Oh.”

With a sigh, you rub your arm, biting your lip, really starting to wonder what you’re really doing here yourself. “H-How have you been?”

“Is that really what you’re going to ask?” Yunho asks, giving you a half-smile.

“What else would I say?” you question softly, suddenly feeling stupid for coming to see him. “I can’t just say Merry Christmas or something stupid like I’ve missed you—“

“Can’t you?” he asks, his dark eyes searching yours. “Because I’ve missed you.”

Sighing, you frown slightly, “This can’t be happening. I don’t know what I was thinking. Let me just—“

He grabs your wrist as you turn to leave, making your gaze snap back to his. “Every day without you has been torture. You came to see me for a reason. Do you feel the same?”

“Yunho, it doesn’t matter how we feel. It can’t work now anymore than it did then. We have different goals.”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, almost desperately. “I can’t give up the band if that’s what you want. You were upset it took up so much of my time? I’ll quit.”

Your eyes widen as you shake your head, “Yunho, the reason you couldn’t give it up for me before is because it’s what you love to do. I can’t take that away from you. I can’t make you live without it.”

“Well, I can’t live without you.”

His words hang heavy in the air, making you suck in a sharp breath, “Yunho…”

“Don’t say anything,” Yunho tells you, taking a single step closer. “Just tell me…”

“Tell you what?” you ask, your eyebrows furrowing.

“What do you feel?” he asks, just before he leans in, his face inches from yours. Your heartbeat quickens as his warm breath fans across your lips. “If you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone.”

You’re torn between wanting to close the distance and knowing you shouldn’t.

You don’t have to wait for long.

It feels like the world stops when his soft lips brush against yours for the first time in months. It isn’t like an electric shock, with fireworks exploding, rather it’s like coming home after a long time away. Like warmth and softness and… love.

It only takes a few seconds for you to melt into him, the kiss deepening as he lifts his hands to cup your face, your hands finding his chest, his heartbeat quickens beneath yours fingertips.

After a few moments, he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours as he pants softly, waiting for you to respond.

“I wish I could say I felt nothing,” you whisper, feeling a little helpless against your emotions. “But I can’t. I’ve never been able to.”

“Then give us another chance,” Yunho pleads, his thumbs brushing across your cheekbones. “I meant what I said during the program. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“But what about the band? What about all the reasons we broke up months ago?”

“You and I both know we were being petty then. And I can quit the band, like I said,” Yunho replies, his tone serious.

“I don’t want you to,” you respond quietly, making him furrow his eyebrows.

“What?” he asks slowly, confusion etched into his features.

“I don’t want you to quit what you love,” you clarify. “That’s what ended things between us before. We quit on our love, and I won’t let you quit on the band now. I was stupid to think you loved me any less because of your passion for music. Please don’t stop playing, Yun.”

“Are you sure?” he asks slowly. “It’ll still take up as much time as it did before, maybe more, since we’ve grown a little more popular now.”

“I don’t care,” you smile softly. “All I care about is being with you again. And I won’t let my jealousy over your time get in the way again… as long as you let me come to your shows.”

“Every single one.”

With a small laugh, you lean forward, pressing another soft kiss to his lips before burying your face in his neck, inhaling his calming scent you’ve missed so much.

“Maybe we should get out of the hallway?” Yunho chuckles, tugging your hand, guiding you into his apartment. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”

You smile shyly, nodding, as you let him close the door behind you both.

Three months later, you’re cheering for Yunho and his band as he performs, smiling widely when he finally comes backstage, his arms open as you laugh, throwing yourself into his arms for a hug. “You did so well, Yunnie,” you whisper in his ear.

He grins, nuzzling his nose into your hair, “Thank you, baby. You’re always the best cheerleader.”

“Can’t say I don’t like the fake tattoos on your hands either,” you tell him wryly, tracing the markings with your finger.

“Oh?” he asks, chuckling softly, his eyes sparking with mischief. “Maybe I’ll leave them on for a little while. And I’ll be sure to tell the stylist you like them.”

“Good,” you grin. “I’m good with anything now as long as you never tell me ‘please don’t call’ like you did last winter ever again.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”