You were not supposed to be working on a Saturday.
It was supposed to be rest, recovery, maybe brunch on the balcony and a rewatch of something soft. But the last-minute campaign revision came with a pretty little urgent tag in your inbox Friday evening, and you knew you couldn’t rest until it was done.
So there you were—laptop balanced on your thighs, coffee growing cold on the nightstand, hair tied up messily and oversized tee slipping off one shoulder—as you sat cross-legged in the corner of the home gym. The plan? Watch Sunghoon work out while you work. Harmless, right?
Wrong.
So, so wrong.
Sunghoon was a menace.
First of all, he walked in shirtless, like it was normal. Just gym shorts hanging low on his hips and a towel slung across his neck like an afterthought. His hair was still a little damp from the shower earlier, sticking slightly to his forehead, and he had the audacity to wink at you like you were the one being distracting.
“Need anything, lolove?” he asked, voice low and playful.
You didn’t look up from your screen. “Just your silence.”
He chuckled under his breath and began stretching, giving you an uninterrupted view of his entire back—all muscle and movement and the occasional satisfied sigh when something cracked just right.
You tried to focus. Really, you did. But the sounds… the grunts while he lifted weights? The little growl when he pushed through that last rep?
You typed the same sentence three times before giving up entirely.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” you asked, glaring at him over the rim of your glasses.
He looked up, smirking as he wiped sweat from his jaw. “What, being hot? It’s not like I can turn it off.”
You rolled your eyes so hard they nearly left orbit. “I’m trying to meet a deadline, not develop a gym crush on my husband.”
“Oh, so you do have a crush on me,” he said, walking over, towel now resting on his shoulder, torso glistening from the overhead light.
You leaned back instinctively as he approached, laptop tilted dangerously. “Don’t even—”
He dropped to his knees in front of you, placing one hand on either side of your legs, effectively caging you in. His eyes sparkled, amused and shameless. “You look stressed.”
“I am stressed.”
“Want help relaxing?” he asked, leaning in like a damn predator.
You flattened your palm against his chest. “Sunghoon. If I miss this deadline, I’ll get a very professional scolding from the VP.”
He grinned. “I’ll protect you. I have great upper body strength, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” you grumbled, cheeks warm.
He kissed your cheek gently, his voice suddenly softer. “Okay, okay. I’ll leave you alone. Just… tell me when you’re done, and I’ll reward you with something better than coffee.”
Your eyes narrowed. “Is the reward dinner?”
He shrugged innocently. “It might be a massage. Might be me in a towel. Who knows.”
“You are the towel.”
He winked again and walked back to the weights, tossing a wink over his shoulder. “Now who’s distracted?”
You sighed, muttering under your breath. “Me. Obviously me.”
Still, somehow, the work got done—eventually. You slammed your laptop shut nearly an hour later, announcing, “Campaign submitted!” with the same energy of someone winning an Olympic medal.
He glanced over, wiping his face with his towel. “That’s my girl. Come here.”
“I’m sweaty,” you said, approaching anyway.
“So am I.”
He pulled you into his arms—muscles taut, heart pounding from the workout—and you melted into him like you hadn’t been pretending to be annoyed the entire time.
You tilted your head up to him. “Still think working from home is a good idea?”
He smirked, brushing his nose against yours. “Only if it means I get to be your favorite distraction.”
“You’re my only distraction,” you whispered.
“Good,” he murmured, and then kissed you—slow and proud, like you’d both won something today.
Which, honestly? You did.
Sunghoon’s kiss lingered like a spark. You could still feel the curve of his smirk when he whispered against your lips, “Come on, lolove. You’ve earned it.”
You raised a brow. “Earned what exactly?”
He straightened, a glint in his eyes as he tugged your hand gently. “Start with a hot shower. Then… you’ll see.”
You followed him upstairs, your fingers laced with his as water droplets still clung to his skin, his back flexing slightly every time he took a step. He glanced over his shoulder once with a knowing look—and you hated how easily your knees went weak.
The ensuite bathroom was already misting up by the time you stepped in. He adjusted the heat just the way you liked it—scalding, steamy, the kind that fogged mirrors and curled your hairline. You were still in your pajamas, watching him with wary amusement as he slipped out of his gym shorts and stepped into the glass shower.
He looked over his shoulder with a teasing smile. “You coming in? Or just gonna stare?”
You huffed. “You’re too cocky for someone who almost tripped over a dumbbell earlier.”
“And yet you still married me,” he called back, voice muffled by the hiss of water.
You peeled off your clothes, goosebumps forming from the air before the heat could touch you, and stepped in after him. The moment the water hit your skin, you sighed, muscles already unwinding.
Sunghoon reached for the body wash, pumping it into his palms before rubbing them together, his eyes locked on yours the whole time. His touch was slow, deliberate as he lathered it onto your shoulders, down your arms, along your back. You braced your hands against the tile as he smoothed the soap over your waist and hips, warm and slick beneath his fingers.
“You’re tense,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“I wonder why,” you breathed. “Couldn’t be the thirst trap working out five feet from me while I tried to concentrate.”
He chuckled, low and smug. “Guilty.”
You turned to face him, water cascading down your cheeks. “You said something about a massage?”
He leaned in, kissed the corner of your lips, then your jaw. “Towel off. Meet me in the bedroom. Face down.”
That made your breath hitch.
By the time you stepped out—fresh, flushed, wrapped in one of your fluffiest towels—Sunghoon had already set the scene. The lights were dimmed, curtains drawn. The bottle of lavender-scented oil you’d barely used sat on the nightstand, uncapped. He stood by the edge of the bed, shirtless (again), this time in loose, dark cotton pants. His hair was slightly damp, curls softening at the edges.
He motioned for you. “Lie down, lolove.”
You obeyed, heart thudding as you dropped your towel and climbed onto the bed, face down, skin still warm from the steam. He straddled your thighs, not putting his weight fully down—just enough to keep you grounded under his touch.
The oil was warm by the time it touched your back.
Sunghoon’s hands moved slow. Intentional. He started at your shoulders, thumbs kneading in small circles, working through the tension like he knew exactly where it lived. Every touch was fire and softness at once—dragging down your spine, across your lower back, his fingertips brushing the curve of your waist.
You gasped softly when his thumbs pressed into the knots beside your shoulder blades. He leaned forward, his chest just brushing your back as he whispered, “Too hard?”
“No,” you breathed. “Just… keep going.”
He chuckled softly, the sound a low hum against your skin. “My overworked, overachieving wife,” he murmured, dragging his lips across your shoulder blade. “You work so hard, and you still look like this…”
You let out a quiet whimper when his hands slid lower—over your hips, your thighs, his palms firm and slow as he squeezed gently, kneading, teasing, loving.
He leaned closer, voice like honey. “You want your reward now, baby?”
You turned your head just enough to meet his gaze over your shoulder. “Depends. Is this still part of the massage?”
He smirked. “Let’s just say… it’s the deep tissue part.”
You groaned, half exasperated, half breathless. “You’re the worst.”
“I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to your Saturday,” he corrected, hands already making good on his promise, warm and firm, slipping under the sheets.
The sheets rustled as Sunghoon slid lower under them, still wearing those loose, dark cotton pants. His hand moved between your thighs, two fingers sinking deep inside you with a wet sound that made your cheeks burn. He curled them slowly, spreading you open, making sure you felt every drag.
“God, lolove…” he whispered against your shoulder, his chest brushing your back as he fucked you lazily with his hand. “You’re dripping all over me. My wife’s little pussy so eager, just for my fingers.”
You whimpered, your walls fluttering around his knuckles, especially when his thumb pressed against your clit. He pumped steadily, scissoring you wider, and kissed your neck as you gasped into the pillow.
“Hoon—” your voice cracked, weak.
“Yeah,” he coaxed, curling his fingers harder until your hips jerked up. “That’s it. Moan for me, lolove. Let me hear how much you need me.”
Before you could answer, he slid down further under the sheets. You felt his hot breath against your inner thigh, goosebumps rising just before his tongue dragged a long, wet stripe up your slit.
“Fuck—Sunghoon!” you cried, thighs trembling.
He groaned, pulling his fingers free only to replace them with his mouth, lips sealing around your clit. His hands gripped your thighs, pushing them wider as he devoured you, tongue flicking, dipping inside, sucking you so hard you saw stars.
The wet sounds, the way he moaned like he was addicted to your taste—it was too much. Your fingers twisted in the sheets, your back arching helplessly.
He pulled back just long enough to smirk up at you from between your legs, chin glistening, voice rough. “Taste so fucking good. All mine.” Then he dove back in, sucking your clit until you cried his name brokenly, your orgasm tearing through you in waves.
You came hard against his mouth, thighs squeezing his head, but he didn’t stop until you pushed weakly at his hair, begging. He kissed your inner thigh, then crawled back up your body, his lips shiny, his pants damp from the mess he’d knelt in.
He kissed you deep, making you taste yourself, and you moaned into his mouth. When you pulled back, still trembling, you reached for the drawstring at his waistband. “Let me… suck you off, Hoon. Please.”
He caught your wrist gently, eyes soft but burning. “Next time, lolove,” he murmured, kissing your palm. “Tonight’s about you.”
That made your chest ache almost as much as your body throbbed for him.
He finally shoved the pants down, kicking them off carelessly before grinding his cock against your soaked entrance. The thick head slid through your folds, smearing your slick all over his length.
“You ready for me?” he asked, kissing your jaw, your temple, grinding slow so you felt how hard he was.
“Please, Hoon,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist.
He lined himself up and pushed in, inch by inch, until he was buried fully inside you. Both of you moaned, the stretch making your toes curl.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned into your neck. “So fucking tight. My wife takes me so well. Always so perfect for me.”
He started slow, each thrust deep and unhurried, lips ghosting over your jaw. His pace was steady, deliberate, making sure you felt every vein, every inch dragging against your walls. “Could stay like this forever, lolove,” he whispered, kissing your ear. “Just you and me. Nothing else.”
You moaned, nails raking down his back as his rhythm grew stronger, his hips snapping harder, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the dim room.
The tenderness blurred into something rough, primal. He hitched your leg higher around his waist, pounding into you deeper, groaning curses in your ear.
“Say it,” he demanded, his voice breaking. “Say you’re mine.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, clenching tight around him. “Always yours, Hoon.”
He growled, thrusting harder, each snap of his hips making the bed rock. You were incoherent, sobbing his name, your body unraveling around his cock.
When your walls fluttered and tightened, dragging him with you, he cursed into your skin. “Gonna cum in you—fuck—gonna fill you up so good—”
“Yes—please, baby—cum in me,” you begged, nails clawing his shoulders.
He buried himself deep, hips grinding as he spilled inside you with a guttural moan of your name. The warmth of him filled you, thick and hot, his body trembling against yours.
For a while, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the sheets damp, his cock still inside you, keeping it all in.
Sunghoon kissed you softly, lazily, his hand stroking your side. “My perfect wife,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “My lolove. You take me so good. Always do.”
You laughed breathlessly against his lips. “You’re insane.”
He chuckled, pulling out slowly, watching his cum drip from you before tucking you against his chest. “Insanely in love with you,” he corrected, holding you tight.
You melted into him, too spent to argue. His arms were strong around you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, keeping you grounded.
“Rest, lolove,” he whispered, kissing your forehead. “I’ll clean you up in a minute. Tonight was about you. Always about you.”
And you believed him, every inch of your body aching and loved, wrapped up in the warmth of the only distraction you’d ever want.
💌: hi!! bringing lolove couple back slowly since uni will be over in a couple of weeks~ i have already written a lot of acts since last year and i hope you guys will look forward ~ suggestion are highly appreciated too~ LIKE,COMMENT,AND REBLOG to show love~
At work, things were different.
Not cold, not distant—just… professional. Respectful. Carefully measured in a way that made the edges of your shared reality feel like a secret only the two of you truly understood.
You worked in marketing, on the 14th floor. Sunghoon was one floor below in finance, buried under spreadsheets and budget approvals most of the day. The entire office knew you were married—your wedding photos were public, and you’d both attended the company dinner a few months back hand-in-hand—but the novelty had worn off quickly. People smiled, teased lightly, called you the “golden couple,” but otherwise? It was back to business.
Still, there were moments.
Like when your phone buzzed during a tedious brand meeting with a message from him:
The finance team is boring without you. Wanna fake a budget crisis and come down? 🙄
Or when you’d sneak into the elevator just as the doors were closing, catching his surprised grin before he immediately reached out to press the emergency hold button.
“Missed you,” he’d say quietly, like it wasn’t the first time he’d seen you that day.
You’d fix his collar or steal a quick peck on the cheek when no one was looking. Then the doors would open, and you’d step out like coworkers again—two people on different floors, different departments, different rhythms.
But not really.
Sometimes, after a long day, you’d catch each other in passing—him walking into the break room just as you were leaving it, coffee mug in hand.
“Hey,” he’d say casually, hand brushing lightly against yours as he passed.
You’d glance back, barely hiding a smile. “Hi.”
That one word carried so much. Hi, I missed you. Hi, we still have dinner plans. Hi, I packed your lunch this morning with the extra sauce you like. Hi, I’m counting down the minutes until I get to go home with you.
One particularly bad Monday, you were swamped—meetings stacked back-to-back, edits due, deadlines crashing into one another. You hadn’t had lunch, hadn’t looked at your phone in two hours, and you were this close to crying over a corrupted file when someone knocked on your office door.
It was Sunghoon’s intern, grinning.
“He said you forgot to eat. And to take a breath.”
You blinked, confused, until she held up the small brown bag. Inside was your favorite takeout order and a folded napkin that simply said in his handwriting:
My wife doesn’t skip meals. Love you. Floor 13’s watching. Be cool. 😎
You laughed quietly, biting back a tear.
Later, as you made your way to the elevator, you stopped on the 13th floor, peeked into the finance bullpen, and caught him at his desk—headphones on, brows furrowed over numbers.
You left a sticky note on his monitor before slipping back upstairs.
You’re annoyingly thoughtful. See you at home, lolove. 💌
On Fridays, there was always a little extra buzz in the building. Casual day. Shorter hours. Afternoon coffee runs.
You usually coordinated those with Yeji, who had an internship in HR now and was still getting used to the office pace. But some days, Sunghoon would text you just before 3PM:
Coffee? You, me, corner of the building, five minutes.
It was the only place in the building with the wide floor-to-ceiling windows and just enough foot traffic to feel normal—yet quiet enough to steal a moment.
He’d be there waiting, holding your drink exactly how you liked it.
You’d lean beside him, not too close, sipping your coffee and watching the skyline stretch past the glass.
“Big meeting?” he’d ask.
“Presentation went well,” you’d nod.
“Did you wear the lipstick I like?” he’d tease softly.
You’d nudge him with your elbow, grinning. “You noticed?”
“Always.”
At the end of the day, when the sun dipped lower behind the city and the building emptied out in waves, you’d sometimes bump into each other near the elevators again—this time with no reason to hold back.
You’d let your fingers intertwine, wedding rings brushing, both of you exhaling at the same time.
“No work talk on the way home,” you’d warn playfully.
He’d kiss the side of your head. “Agreed. Just us now.”
Because at work, you were colleagues. Independent. Grounded. Busy.
But at home, you were each other’s peace. And even though your floors were different, your hearts always walked the same hallway.
It was a Tuesday when the office felt especially sluggish. The kind where the air-conditioning hit too hard, the printer jammed twice, and everything you touched seemed to need one more revision. You were deep into reviewing a campaign deck when your phone buzzed beside your mouse.
Sunghoon [13F]:
Just sent in the quarterly reports. Want to reward me with a five-minute break and your face?
You stared at the message for a moment, smirking as you typed back.
You [14F]:
Only if you meet me in the hallway near the vending machines. No witnesses. No spreadsheets.
Exactly three minutes later, you stepped out of your floor and leaned casually by the vending machines, pretending to browse snacks. The hum of conversation and footsteps faded as most people were still tucked away in their cubicles.
Then he appeared around the corner, tie a little loose, expression a little smug.
You turned toward the machine. “This is such a covert mission.”
Sunghoon leaned close enough for his voice to tickle your ear. “I live for secret snack rendezvous with my wife.”
You tried to fight a grin. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You say that like I didn’t just do a deep dive into forecast models to make sure your budget proposal gets cleared.”
You blinked. “Wait, what?”
He smiled, all casual. “Told the finance director to ease up on marketing’s numbers next quarter. You’ve got a rollout planned. You didn’t think I was just sipping coffee all day, did you?”
Your heart swelled before you could hide it. “Park Sunghoon. You really love me.”
He feigned innocence. “That’s not new info.”
You reached up, smoothed down the stubborn curl of his hair that always stuck out when he was tired. “I owe you cookies.”
“Or a reward I can’t say out loud in an office building.”
“Sunghoon—!”
He laughed, soft and boyish. Then his voice dropped just slightly. “You’re working hard, lolove. I see it. Even when it feels like no one else does.”
That one sentence wrapped around your ribs like a hug.
You squeezed his hand once—quick, quiet—and stepped back. “I need to get back. My team’s waiting on the updated slides.”
He nodded, but not before stealing one more look at you. “Dinner on me tonight?”
“You sure you want to eat with someone who hogs the blankets and stress-eats matcha mochi at 1 a.m.?”
He leaned in and kissed your forehead, gentle and fast. “Always.”
You disappeared back upstairs, heart lighter than when you left.
By the time 6:45 PM rolled around, you were powering through the last edits of the day when a knock came at your office door. You looked up to find Sunghoon, dressed down in his soft grey hoodie and jeans, holding two bento boxes from your favorite spot.
“I figured I’d bring dinner here,” he said casually. “We could have a desk date. Floor 14 edition.”
You blinked, touched. “You seriously carried food up for me?”
“You married me,” he deadpanned. “You signed up for this level of husband service.”
You snorted and stood to grab the boxes, peeking at the contents. “You even got the spicy tofu one.”
He tapped your chin affectionately. “I listen. And I love you.”
You smiled, heart full as you both sat side by side on your couch—your office briefly transforming into a little pocket of home.
There were still reports. Still meetings. Still long hours.
But somewhere between the fluorescent lighting, mismatched schedules, and elevator kisses, love still bloomed—quietly, constantly, just a floor apart.
~
TOBIOSBBYGHORL 2026
series taglist: (open) @iboughtnjz @rikidaze @pocketzlocket t @jaerisdiction @ijustwannareadstuff20 @doririsstuff whateveridontcarsheesh @rikifever @firstclassjaylee @jayhoonvroom @heekolazz
The morning sun streamed through the curtains, golden rays casting warmth over the room as you stirred awake. Your heart pounded gently against your ribcage, a mixture of nerves and excitement settling in.
Today was the day. The day you became Mrs. Park.
Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you weren’t surprised to see a notification waiting for you.
Lolove: Morning, my Lolove. Last time waking up without you beside me.
You grinned, fingers flying over the keyboard.
You: Morning, fiancé. Not for long.
The reply came almost instantly.
Lolove: I already miss you. Eat breakfast, okay? No fainting at the altar, or I’m carrying you through the vows.
A soft laugh escaped your lips, warmth spreading in your chest. He knew you too well.
Pushing aside the nerves, you climbed out of bed and joined your bridesmaids—Yejin, Karina, Hyein, Yujin, and Yeji—who were waiting downstairs in their silk robes, sipping mimosas with excitement.
“Finally, the bride emerges!” Karina teased, passing you a glass.
“You didn’t even drink last night, and you still overslept?” Hyein smirked.
“I was savoring my last night as an unmarried woman,” you joked, plopping down next to Yujin.
Yejin eyed you knowingly. “Sunghoon texted, didn’t he?”
You hummed, cheeks warming. “Told me to eat so I don’t faint at the altar.”
“A man who knows his priorities,” Yeji laughed.
As you ate, your nerves settled into a buzzing anticipation, the morning slipping by in a flurry of preparations.
Your bridal suite was filled with soft music and excited chatter as the hair and makeup team worked their magic. The photographer moved around, capturing every moment—the gentle swipes of blush on your cheeks, the delicate way your hair was styled into a soft, elegant updo with pearl accents, and the moment you slipped into your gown.
The dress was everything you had dreamed of—an airy, ethereal masterpiece with intricate lace detailing and a flowing train. The moment you saw yourself in the mirror, your breath caught. This was real.
“You’re stunning,” Yujin whispered, eyes shining.
“You look like you belong in a fairytale,” Karina added, hands clasped over her heart.
“You are going to make Sunghoon cry,” Yejin grinned.
Hyein snickered. “If he isn’t already crying, that is.”
A knock on the door interrupted the moment. The wedding planner peeked in. “It’s time for the first look.”
Your heart skipped a beat.
⸻
Sunghoon stood with his back turned, hands clasped in front of him, his shoulders rising and falling in anticipation. The photographers whispered instructions, ensuring the perfect capture of this intimate moment.
Taking a deep breath, you stepped forward, the delicate fabric of your gown brushing against the ground. You reached out, gently tapping his shoulder.
The second he turned, the world seemed to slow.
His breath hitched, eyes widening as they took you in. His mouth parted slightly, as if struggling to find words, and then, without thinking, he reached out, fingers brushing over yours before gripping them tightly.
“Wow,” he whispered, voice thick with emotion. “You’re… breathtaking.”
Tears pricked at your eyes. “You’re not so bad yourself, Mr. Park.”
A shaky laugh escaped him as he took in every detail—your dress, your hair, the way your eyes shimmered just for him. “I think I might cry before the ceremony even starts.”
“You better not,” you teased, though your own voice was unsteady.
But when the ceremony began, and the curtains finally drew back to reveal you, all of Sunghoon’s composure crumbled.
A hush fell over the guests as the soft melody of Can’t Help Falling in Love began to play. The venue was transformed into an ethereal dream—soft, flowing fabrics, delicate floral arrangements in shades of champagne and ivory, and golden sunlight filtering through the open-air setting.
Sunghoon stood at the altar, hands clasped in front of him, his jaw tightening as he tried to steady his emotions.
Then, the grand doors slowly opened.
A collective gasp echoed through the crowd.
And there you were.
Bathed in soft golden light, you stepped forward, your gown flowing around you like a dream. The delicate lace shimmered subtly under the sunlight, and for a moment, it felt like time itself paused.
Sunghoon’s breath left him in a shaky exhale. His vision blurred, his hands trembling slightly. Jake, standing beside him, patted his back with a teasing but fond smile. “Breathe, man.”
But how could he, when you looked like that? Like you were crafted from every wish he had ever made?
Your father held onto your arm, his grip steady and warm. “Ready?” he murmured.
You nodded, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. The moment felt surreal—the soft melody, the murmurs of admiration from your loved ones, and most of all, the way Sunghoon was looking at you.
His eyes, filled with nothing but love.
As you walked closer, step by step, Sunghoon swallowed thickly, blinking rapidly to stop the tears from spilling over. His fingers twitched at his sides, desperate to reach for you.
When you finally reached him, your father squeezed your hand before placing it in Sunghoon’s.
“Take care of her,” he said softly.
Sunghoon, voice thick with emotion, nodded. “Always.”
Your fingers intertwined, a silent promise exchanged in that touch alone.
This was it.
Your forever was beginning.
A gentle breeze carried the faint scent of flowers through the air as the officiant stepped forward, smiling warmly at the two of you. The guests had settled, the soft rustling of fabric and hushed whispers fading into an anticipatory silence.
Sunghoon still hadn’t let go of your hand. His grip was firm yet gentle, as if grounding himself in the moment, ensuring this wasn’t some beautiful dream he would wake up from. You squeezed his fingers lightly, offering him a smile that nearly knocked the air from his lungs.
“You may all be seated,” the officiant announced.
A soft murmur spread through the guests as they took their seats, but neither you nor Sunghoon looked away from each other. His eyes were glassy, his jaw clenched in an attempt to hold himself together.
The officiant cleared his throat, his voice warm and full of joy. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Y/N and Sunghoon in marriage. A love that began with an accidental coffee theft has blossomed into a partnership built on laughter, unwavering support, and the kind of devotion that turns ordinary moments into extraordinary memories.”
A ripple of chuckles passed through the crowd, especially from your friends and coworkers who knew the infamous café story all too well. Sunghoon let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking his head.
The officiant continued, “Marriage is more than just the union of two people. It is a promise, a lifelong commitment to choose one another every single day. It is waking up each morning and deciding that no matter what, you will face everything—joys, hardships, and everything in between—together.”
Sunghoon’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, a silent vow of its own.
The officiant smiled. “Before we proceed with the vows, let us take a moment to reflect on what brings us here today—the love between these two individuals, a love that has grown through shared dreams, unwavering trust, and the undeniable spark that has been there since the very beginning.”
Sunghoon exhaled shakily. The undeniable spark. He felt it even now, stronger than ever.
The officiant turned to him. “Sunghoon, you may now share your vows.”
Sunghoon let out a small laugh, running a hand through his neatly styled hair before taking a steadying breath. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket, but one look at you had him shaking his head with a soft chuckle.
“I wrote something down, but…” He exhaled, looking at you like you were his entire world. “I don’t think anything I put into words could ever fully capture how much I love you.”
A soft gasp rippled through the guests.
Sunghoon swallowed hard, his voice thick with emotion. “Y/N, you are my best friend, my greatest Lolove, and my home. From the moment I stole your coffee—” another round of laughter, “—I should have known my life was about to change. But I never could have imagined just how much.”
He took a deep breath. “You challenge me, you ground me, and you love me in a way that makes me want to be a better man every single day. You are my first thought when I wake up and my last thought before I sleep. You are my heart.”
Your vision blurred with tears.
“There is no one else I would rather laugh with, dream with, or grow old with. I promise to love you fiercely, to stand beside you in every storm, and to choose you, over and over again, for the rest of my life.”
A single tear escaped down your cheek, and Sunghoon reached up, brushing it away with the softest touch.
A sniffle from behind you revealed that at least three of your bridesmaids were crying.
The officiant smiled warmly. “Y/N, you may now share your vows.”
You inhaled deeply, blinking away the tears threatening to spill. Your hands trembled slightly as you held onto Sunghoon’s, his warmth steadying you.
“Sunghoon, from the very first day we met, you have surprised me, challenged me, and made me laugh like no one else ever has.” You let out a soft chuckle. “Even if our first conversation was me calling you a thief.”
The guests laughed, but you could only see Sunghoon, his lips curled into a tender smile.
“You have been my safest place, my greatest adventure, and the love I never saw coming, the love I prayed for. You are the person who sees me, truly sees me, in ways no one else ever has. You make ordinary days feel special and special days feel magical.”
Sunghoon’s grip on your hands tightened, his chest rising and falling with slow, measured breaths.
“I promise to always support your dreams, just as you support mine. I promise to be your best friend, your biggest fan, and your partner in all of life’s chaos. I promise to fight for us, to stand by your side no matter what, and to choose you, every single day, for the rest of my life.”
Tears clung to your lashes as you whispered, “You are my home, Sunghoon. And I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”
Sunghoon let out a shaky exhale, his expression completely undone.
The officiant beamed. “And now, the rings.”
Jake stepped forward, handing Sunghoon the small velvet box. Sunghoon took the ring, his fingers brushing over the band he had so carefully chosen.
Sliding it onto your finger, he spoke softly, his voice laced with reverence. “With this ring, I give you my heart, my love, and my promise to stand by you always.”
You swallowed thickly, accepting the second ring from Karina. With steady hands, you slid it onto Sunghoon’s finger, your voice unwavering despite the emotions brimming in your chest. “With this ring, I give you my love, my devotion, and my promise to stand beside you, always.”
The officiant smiled brightly. “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
A beat of silence.
And then—
“Sunghoon,” the officiant teased, “you may now kiss your bride.”
A grin spread across Sunghoon’s face before he pulled you in, cupping your cheeks as he kissed you—soft and lingering at first, then deeper, as if trying to pour every ounce of love into that one moment.
The guests erupted into cheers, applause echoing around you.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and laughing, Sunghoon whispered against your lips, “You’re mine, Mrs. Park.”
You smiled. “Forever.”
And just like that, your forever began.
The cheers and applause still echoed in the air as you and Sunghoon stood at the altar, foreheads touching, grinning like two people who had just won the greatest prize in the world. Because in a way, you had—you had won each other.
The officiant stepped aside, signaling the musicians, and the first joyful notes of Can’t Help Falling in Love began to play, performed in a dreamy, instrumental arrangement.
Sunghoon took a deep breath, his hand never leaving yours. He looked at you like he was still processing that this was real—that you were his wife. His eyes glistened with emotion, but his smile was nothing short of pure joy.
“Ready, Mrs. Park?” he whispered, squeezing your fingers.
Your heart fluttered at the name. You nodded, cheeks aching from how much you had been smiling. “With you? Always.”
And with that, the officiant lifted his arms. “Ladies and gentlemen, for the very first time, I present to you… Mr. and Mrs. Park Sunghoon!”
A new wave of cheers erupted as Sunghoon gently pulled you forward, leading you down the aisle. Rose petals fluttered through the air, thrown by the bridesmaids and guests, creating a cascade of soft colors around you. The warm sunlight made everything feel even more magical, catching on the delicate shimmer of your dress and the golden band now sitting on your ring finger.
Sunghoon couldn’t stop smiling. He kept glancing at you, his grip firm yet gentle, his steps unhurried as if he wanted to savor this moment for as long as possible.
Halfway down the aisle, he suddenly stopped.
Before you could ask why, he turned to you, his hands cupping your face, and kissed you again—this time with all the excitement, love, and triumph bursting inside him.
The guests erupted into louder cheers and laughter, Jake and Jay whistling obnoxiously from the front row while your bridesmaids squealed. Even the photographers scrambled to capture the moment, their cameras clicking rapidly.
When Sunghoon pulled away, his eyes twinkled with mischief. “Just making sure this is properly documented,” he murmured against your lips.
You giggled, lightly smacking his chest before tugging him forward. “Come on, Mr. Park, we have a reception to get to.”
Hand in hand, you both stepped out into your future, surrounded by love, laughter, and the promise of forever.
The guests had settled in their seats, the atmosphere humming with excitement and warmth as the golden glow of fairy lights cast a dreamy ambiance over the venue. The soft chatter of friends and family filled the air, glasses clinking as servers moved gracefully between tables, offering drinks. Everyone waited eagerly for the moment when the newlyweds would finally make their grand entrance as husband and wife.
Then, the music swelled—the unmistakable melody of Forevermore playing through the speakers, and the anticipation peaked.
A hush fell over the crowd as the double doors at the entrance slowly swung open, revealing Sunghoon and Y/N standing hand in hand. A collective sigh of admiration rippled through the room.
Dressed in their wedding attire, they looked like they had stepped right out of a fairytale. Sunghoon, in his white suit, looked at his bride with pure adoration, while Y/N, radiant in her elegant gown, beamed at him. The moment held its breath as they took their first step forward together.
And then, with a playful grin, Sunghoon twirled Y/N in the middle of the dance floor, the movement causing the layers of her dress to float around her like a cloud. As she landed gracefully in his arms, he dipped her slightly, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, whistles and claps filling the air.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome, for the first time as husband and wife, Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N!” the emcee announced, amplifying the excitement in the room.
Sunghoon took Y/N’s hand once more, leading her to the head table as the reception officially began.
With glasses filled and the room glowing with warmth, the first toast of the evening was given. After a heartfelt message of love and gratitude from the couple, the emcee invited Y/N’s sister, Yejin, and Sunghoon’s best man, Jake, to share a few words.
Yejin took a deep breath before stepping up to the mic, glancing at Y/N with a teasing glint in her eyes.
“So, growing up with Y/N Unnie, I can tell you one thing for sure—she’s always been a hopeless romantic,” Yejin started, making the room chuckle as Y/N rolled her eyes with a laugh.
“She’d sigh dramatically while watching rom-coms, swearing she’d never find someone who loved her like that. And trust me, there were many nights when she complained about being single while eating an entire tub of ice cream.” Yejin smirked at her sister, who buried her face in her hands in embarrassment.
“But then, this guy happened.” She motioned to Sunghoon, her tone softening. “And suddenly, my sister wasn’t just dreaming about love—she was living it. I saw her happiest when she was with you, Sunghoon Oppa. And if anyone deserves to be loved endlessly, it’s her. Though I must say, she’s as competitive in love as she is in everything else. I mean, proposing right after getting proposed to? That’s my sister.”
The room burst into laughter, and Sunghoon smirked at Y/N, who was laughing with her face in her hands.
“But in all seriousness,” Yejin continued, her voice laced with emotion, “watching you two together is like watching the kind of love stories Unnie always dreamed of. And as her sister, all I could ever want is for her to be truly loved, cherished, and happy. Oppa, thank you for giving her that.”
A collective “aww” echoed through the crowd as Y/N’s eyes shimmered with tears. She reached for Yejin’s hand, squeezing it in gratitude.
Next, Jake took the mic, and a knowing smirk played on his lips.
“Alright, let’s be honest. When I first met Sunghoon, I didn’t think anyone could handle his nonchalant personality. He was the guy who barely reacted to anything, who didn’t care about romantic stuff, who always acted like he was too cool for love,” Jake said, making Sunghoon roll his eyes as laughter filled the room.
“But then, one day, he comes up to me—completely out of character—and starts complaining about this girl at a café,” Jake said, raising his brows.
Sunghoon groaned, shaking his head as realization hit. “No way—”
“Oh, yes way.” Jake grinned. “He goes, ‘Jake, this girl at the café is so annoying. She called me a thief because I accidentally took her order.’”
The entire room erupted into laughter as Y/N gasped in realization, pointing at Sunghoon. “Wait—you talked about that?!”
“Oh, absolutely,” Jake nodded, biting back a laugh. “Little did I know, that annoying girl was going to be the love of his life.”
Sunghoon groaned again, but the amused smile tugging at his lips gave him away.
“But in all seriousness,” Jake continued, his voice growing softer, “I’ve never seen Sunghoon look at anyone the way he looks at Y/N. And as someone who’s known him for years, it’s obvious—this guy loves you, Y/N. With everything he has. He even adopts her personality now!”
Sunghoon turned to Y/N then, their eyes locking in a gaze full of love and warmth.
“And if there’s one thing I know about Sunghoon,” Jake added, “it’s that when he loves, he loves with his whole heart. So, Y/N, congratulations—because you didn’t just marry him. You married a man who will love you with everything he’s got.”
The crowd cooed, and Y/N blinked back the happy tears forming in her eyes as Sunghoon leaned over to squeeze her hand.
“Now, enough of the sentimental stuff—let’s get back to the party!” Jake declared, raising his glass. “To Sunghoon and Y/N!”
“TO SUNGHOON AND Y/N!” the crowd echoed, lifting their glasses high before taking a sip.
With the speeches done, the bridesmaids and groomsmen took the floor for a surprise dance number—something fun, high-energy, and completely unexpected.
Jake and Yejin led the routine, hyping up the guests while Heeseung, Minseok, Karina, Hyein, and Yeji joined in, executing their choreographed moves flawlessly. Even Sunghoon, usually one to stay in his seat, was nodding along in appreciation.
By the end, the whole room was clapping and cheering, the energy infectious.
“That was amazing,” Y/N laughed, shaking her head in delight.
Sunghoon smirked. “Yeah, but good luck getting them to stop talking about it for the next decade.”
Hand in hand, Sunghoon and Y/N approached their elegantly designed wedding cake. With Sunghoon standing behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, they held the knife together and made the first cut, laughter and cheers surrounding them.
Rather than the traditional frosting-smearing battle, they opted for a sweet, playful moment—Sunghoon offering Y/N the first bite with a teasing smile, while Y/N fed him a piece in return.
Then, the lights dimmed slightly, signaling the beginning of their first dance. The soft melody of their chosen song filled the air, and Sunghoon gently led Y/N onto the dance floor.
Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, Sunghoon holding her close, whispering little words only meant for her. As the song reached its final notes, he twirled her one last time before pulling her into a soft, loving kiss.
Applause and dreamy sighs filled the room.
The energy shifted to something playful when the single ladies gathered for the bouquet toss. With a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, Y/N playfully faked a throw before launching it over her shoulder—straight into Karina’s hands.
As the laughter and chatter from the bouquet toss settled, the atmosphere shifted to something a little more playful, a little more teasing. The emcee grinned, clapping his hands together as he announced,
“Alright, gentlemen, it’s your turn now! Single men, gather around—it’s time for the garter toss!”
The men groaned, but they still made their way forward, laughing and nudging each other. Meanwhile, the women in the audience were already giggling, excited for what was about to unfold.
Sunghoon turned to Y/N, who was perched on a chair in the middle of the dance floor. She was already blushing, her hands fidgeting in her lap. He stepped toward her slowly, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
“You nervous, Mrs. Park?” he murmured, his voice low enough for only her to hear.
She rolled her eyes at his teasing tone but couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. “You wish.”
“Oh, I don’t wish, sweetheart,” he chuckled, taking his place in front of her. “I know.”
The emcee hyped up the crowd, his voice booming over the microphone.
“Now, tradition states that the groom must retrieve the garter without using his hands!”
A loud ooh rippled through the guests, mixed with whistles and playful screams.
Y/N swallowed, feeling her face grow warmer as Sunghoon slowly sank to his knees in front of her. His hands traced a light path along her ankles, a teasing touch that made her shiver, before he finally slid them up to her calves, gently parting her knees to make room for himself.
She let out a breath, heart pounding wildly.
Sunghoon was in no rush. He took his sweet time, his fingers grazing her skin just enough to send tingles up her spine. His eyes flickered up to hers, a devilish glint in them as he dipped his head down.
The moment his lips brushed against her thigh, the room erupted.
“Oh my god!”
“He’s really taking his time, huh?”
“Damn, okay, Sunghoon!”
Laughter and cheers filled the air as Sunghoon, still maintaining eye contact with Y/N, took the garter between his teeth and began to slowly slide it down her leg. Y/N bit her lip, torn between giggling and hiding her face in embarrassment.
“Lolove,” she hissed, nudging him with her knee. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
He smirked against her skin before finally pulling the garter free with his teeth. Standing up, he shot her a wink before turning back to the waiting crowd, twirling the garter around his finger.
The single men groaned, knowing they were about to be dragged into the next part of the tradition.
“Alright, gentlemen!” The emcee laughed. “You know the drill—whoever catches the garter is next to get married!”
The men exchanged wary looks, but before any of them could react, Sunghoon had already flung the garter high into the air.
It arced beautifully before landing—right in Jake’s hands.
The room exploded.
“Ohhh, Jake!”
“Man, you’re done for!”
Jake blinked, looking down at the garter in disbelief while his friends pounded on his back, laughing hysterically.
“Bro, I wasn’t even trying to catch it!” he protested.
Sunghoon only grinned, slinging an arm around his best friend’s shoulders. “Guess that means you’re next, bud.”
Jake groaned, but the playful grin tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement.
Y/N, still recovering from the teasing Sunghoon had put her through, shook her head with a laugh.
And just like that, another unforgettable moment was added to the night—one filled with laughter, teasing, and just a little bit of mischief.
As the night began to wind down, the energy in the room softened into something warm and heartfelt. The music had shifted to a gentle melody, and the guests—now full from dinner, exhausted from dancing, and maybe a little tipsy from the champagne—gathered closer, their faces glowing with happiness.
The emcee took the microphone once again, smiling warmly. “Before we officially end this unforgettable night, our bride and groom have something they’d like to say.”
Sunghoon and Y/N stood together at the center of the dance floor, hand in hand. Y/N, still glowing from the magic of the evening, glanced up at her husband—her husband—and felt her heart swell with emotions she couldn’t even put into words.
Sunghoon squeezed her hand gently before bringing the mic up to his lips.
“First of all, thank you all for being here tonight,” he began, his voice steady yet filled with sincerity. “It honestly means the world to us that we could celebrate with the people who have been by our sides through everything. Whether you’ve known us for years or just recently became a part of our lives, each of you has made an impact, and we’re so grateful.”
He paused for a moment, his gaze flickering to Y/N before continuing.
“To our friends—thank you for always supporting us, hyping us up, and occasionally making fun of us when we deserved it.” A chuckle rippled through the room. “Your friendships mean everything to us, and we wouldn’t be standing here today without all the moments we’ve shared.”
He turned toward their families next, his expression softening.
“To our families… there aren’t enough words to express how much we love you. Thank you for raising us, for guiding us, and for always being our home, no matter where we are in life. Thank you for supporting us in this new chapter—we hope we’ll make you proud.”
The emotion in his voice was undeniable. Y/N felt his grip on her hand tighten just slightly, grounding himself.
Then, he glanced at her, the smallest smile tugging at his lips.
“And of course, to my wife,” he said, his tone turning impossibly soft.
A few dramatic gasps and teasing awws could be heard from the crowd, making Y/N laugh under her breath.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” Sunghoon continued. “You are my greatest love, my best friend, my peace, and my daily dose of chaos. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Y/N playfully nudged him at the “chaos” comment, making the guests laugh.
Sunghoon chuckled before turning to her fully. “Thank you for choosing me. Every day, I will choose you, too.”
The applause that followed was filled with warmth, and Y/N, blinking back the prickle of tears, took the mic next.
“First of all,” she started, eyes sparkling mischievously, “I’d like to say that I had a speech planned, but after that, I might just hand the mic back to Sunghoon and let him keep talking.”
Laughter erupted, and Sunghoon shook his head with an amused grin.
Y/N took a deep breath, looking out at the sea of loved ones before her.
“This night… this entire journey with Sunghoon… has been nothing short of incredible. And the fact that we get to share it with all of you makes it even more special. Thank you for being part of our story.”
She turned to Sunghoon, eyes filled with love
“I’ve always believed that love should feel like home. And with you, I know I’ve found mine.”
Sunghoon exhaled, his free hand reaching up to brush away a stray tear that slipped down her cheek.
“I can’t wait for forever with you,” she whispered, just for him to hear.
The crowd erupted into cheers, and the emcee took over once again.
“Alright, let’s send these two off with all the love and energy we’ve got left!”
With that, the farewell procession began.
As Sunghoon and Y/N made their way through the crowd, the guests waved sparklers in the air, creating a dazzling tunnel of light. The couple took their time, stopping to hug friends and family one last time, exchanging whispered goodbyes, laughter, and endless well-wishes.
“Don’t forget to send us pictures from the honeymoon!” Karina called out.
Jake gave Sunghoon a dramatic salute. “You better take care of her, man.”
Yeji and Yejin both had tears in their eyes as they hugged Y/N tightly. “We love you so much,” Yejin murmured.
“We’ll see you soon,” Heeseung added with a grin, patting Sunghoon on the back.
Finally, as they reached the end of the glowing pathway, Sunghoon took Y/N’s hand in his and pulled her in for one last twirl—mirroring their entrance at the reception.
Only this time, when he dipped her, the kiss he pressed to her lips was slow and deep, the kind that promised forever.
The guests erupted into applause, and with their hearts full, Y/N and Sunghoon turned toward their getaway car, ready to step into the next chapter of their love story.
As the doors closed behind them, Sunghoon laced his fingers through hers, bringing their joined hands to his lips.
a/n: ITS HERE!! i really cried writing this part— like my babies are not babies anymore:(( anyways i hope you like and love this act as much as i did and leave a FEEDBACK and RB!! ILY and see you next acts🙂↕️💗
You knew something was wrong the second Sunghoon didn’t text you good morning.
It was a small thing—maybe even trivial—but Sunghoon, for all his nonchalant ways, never forgot. He always sent a quick, lazy “morning” with some dry joke about how he hated waking up.
But today?
Nothing.
At first, you brushed it off. Maybe he was just busy or had overslept. But when you saw him at uni, leaning against his locker, scrolling through his phone like he had all the time in the world—without so much as glancing your way—your stomach dropped.
Your steps slowed, uncertainty creeping up your spine.
Did I do something?
You wracked your brain, trying to recall if you’d said or done anything wrong. Yesterday had been normal—laughing over dinner, his hand casually resting on your thigh under the table, him walking you home like usual.
So what changed?
You mustered the courage to approach him. “Hey, Hoon.”
He barely looked up, just giving you a flat, “Hey.”
That’s when you knew.
Something was wrong.
Your smile faltered. “Are we still hanging out later?”
A pause.
Then, without looking at you, he said, “Can’t. I’m busy.”
It was the way he said it—detached, uninterested, as if you were just some casual acquaintance instead of the person he kissed breathless just two nights ago.
Your chest tightened.
“Hoon,” you said softly, searching his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
Another short, clipped answer.
Frustration bubbled in your chest. “Okay, obviously something’s wrong, because you’re acting weird—”
“I said nothing’s wrong, Y/N.”
Your breath hitched.
He had never used that tone with you before. Cold. Sharp. Distant.
Sunghoon didn’t yell—he didn’t have to. His indifference cut deeper than any raised voice ever could.
For the first time since you started dating, he looked at you like you were just another person in his life.
And it hurt.
“…Fine,” you said quietly, swallowing the lump in your throat. “If you don’t want to talk to me, I won’t force you.”
You turned on your heel and walked away, refusing to let him see the way your fingers trembled.
The next two days were pure torture.
Sunghoon wasn’t just distant—he was silent.
No texts. No calls. No stopping by your usual lunch spot.
You’d see him in passing—walking through the halls, chatting with his friends, laughing at something stupid—but every time your eyes met, he’d look right past you, like you weren’t even there.
Like you didn’t matter.
And it was driving you insane.
By the third day, you’d had enough.
You stormed up to him after class, grabbing his wrist before he could slip away.
“Okay, seriously—what is going on?”
He turned, finally looking at you, but his expression was unreadable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Your blood boiled. “Hoon, don’t do that. Don’t act like I’m imagining things when you’ve been ignoring me for days.”
His jaw tightened. “Maybe I just needed space.”
Your heart squeezed. “Space? From me?”
He didn’t say anything.
And that silence—that awful, heavy silence—was somehow worse than any argument you could’ve had.
You forced yourself to take a breath. “Sunghoon, I don’t know what I did wrong, but can we please just talk? You shutting me out like this—”
“It’s not just about you, Y/N.”
The words were cold, final.
You froze.
“Not everything has to be a big, dramatic conversation.” His voice was eerily calm, but you saw the tension in his shoulders. “I just needed time to think.”
Your lips parted, but you had no idea what to say to that.
Time to think? About what?
About you? About this relationship?
Your stomach twisted. “Do you—” You hesitated, heart pounding. “Do you still want to be with me?”
For the first time since this started, Sunghoon’s mask cracked.
His brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly, as if your question had completely thrown him off.
“What?” His voice dropped, softer now.
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I don’t know what I did to make you shut me out like this, but if you’re—if you’re having doubts, if you don’t want this anymore, just tell me.”
Something in his expression shifted.
Then, before you could react, his hand cupped your face, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him.
“…You really think that?” His voice was quieter now, but there was something raw beneath it. “You think I don’t want you?”
You blinked rapidly, caught off guard by the sudden change in his demeanor.
“I don’t—” Your voice cracked. “I don’t know what to think, Sunghoon. You shut me out, you didn’t even tell me why, and I—” You exhaled shakily. “I hate fighting with you.”
A long pause.
Then, finally, Sunghoon sighed, his thumb brushing over your cheek.
“…I got jealous.”
Your breath caught.
What?
He looked away, exhaling through his nose. “The other day. When you were laughing with that guy in class—Jaemin, or whatever his name is.” His grip on your waist tightened slightly. “You didn’t even notice how close he was to you.”
You stared.
That’s what this was about?
Sunghoon let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “It was stupid, I know. But it pissed me off, and instead of just saying something like a normal person, I—” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I handled it like an idiot.”
Your heart ached at the guilt in his voice.
“Hoon,” you whispered. “You could’ve just told me.”
“I know.” His shoulders sagged slightly. “I didn’t mean to make you think I didn’t want you.” His gaze softened. “That’s the last thing I want.”
Silence settled between you.
Then, before he could react, you punched him in the arm.
“Ow—what the hell?!”
“That’s for ignoring me for three days, dumbass!”
Sunghoon let out a pained laugh, rubbing his arm. “Yeah, okay. I probably deserved that.”
You huffed, crossing your arms. “Damn right, you did.”
Another pause.
Then, a little more hesitantly—
“…Are we good?”
You sighed, your frustration slowly melting into something softer. “You’re still on thin ice, Park.”
His lips quirked up. “Fair enough.”
“…But yeah. We’re good.”
Sunghoon let out a relieved breath, then—without warning—wrapped you in his arms.
You stiffened for half a second before melting into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent.
“I missed you,” he murmured against your hair.
Your lips twitched. “Maybe don’t ignore me for three days next time, and you won’t have to miss me.”
He groaned. “Okay, okay. I get it.”
You smirked. “Do you, though?”
“…I’ll make it up to you.”
You pulled back slightly, raising a brow. “How?”
Sunghoon smirked, leaning in.
“I have a few ideas.”
Four months in, and this was your first real, full-blown fight.
Not the petty bickering or stubborn silent treatments like before.
This was loud, heated, and ugly.
You didn’t even remember how it started. Something small—probably insignificant in hindsight—but it had spiraled so fast neither of you could stop it.
“You’re being ridiculous, Y/N!” Sunghoon’s voice was sharper than you’d ever heard it, his jaw clenched as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
You scoffed, crossing your arms tightly. “Oh, I’m ridiculous? Maybe if you actually listened to me for once, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!”
He let out a sharp exhale, eyes flashing with irritation. “I do listen to you, but sometimes you just blow things way out of proportion!”
You felt something snap inside you. “Oh, so now I’m just overreacting? You know what, Sunghoon? If you actually cared, you wouldn’t brush me off like I’m some dramatic idiot!”
His expression darkened. “I never said that.”
“You didn’t have to.” Your voice was quieter now, but cutting. “It’s obvious you think I’m just some annoying girlfriend who makes a big deal out of nothing.”
Sunghoon’s fingers curled into fists. “Do you even hear yourself right now? I put up with your mood swings, your dramatics, your constant need for attention—”
Your chest ached.
Put up with?
You felt your throat tighten, but your pride refused to let you back down. “Well, if I’m such a burden to you, maybe you should just break up with me.”
Sunghoon’s eyes flashed, his breath hitching slightly.
The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them.
But his face hardened.
His next words came out like a cold slap.
“Maybe I should.”
Silence.
It rang louder than your shouts ever could.
Your lips parted slightly, but nothing came out.
Sunghoon stared at you, his own chest rising and falling sharply, as if he hadn’t meant to say it either.
For the first time since this started, you saw hurt flicker in his expression.
But instead of fixing it, instead of taking it back—
He walked away.
And you let him.
The fight left a bitter taste in your mouth.
Sunghoon didn’t text. Didn’t call.
And for the first time since you started dating, he didn’t come looking for you.
You told yourself you didn’t care.
But the way your eyes kept darting to your phone? The way your chest tightened every time you passed his usual spots on campus?
You cared.
The worst part was the what-ifs.
What if he really meant it? What if he really thought you were too much? What if this was the fight that actually ended things?
Three days passed in radio silence.
By the fourth day, you couldn’t take it anymore.
You found him in the library, headphones on, eyes glued to his laptop.
The sight made your stomach twist—he looked perfectly fine. Like your fight hadn’t even happened.
Like he didn’t miss you at all.
The thought stung.
You didn’t even bother lowering your voice. “Are we just not talking now?”
Sunghoon blinked up at you, slowly pulling out his headphones.
“…What?”
You crossed your arms. “You heard me. Are we seriously just going to ignore each other forever?”
His gaze flickered to the side. “I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.”
Your fingers clenched. “Are you kidding me? You literally walked away first.”
He exhaled through his nose, shutting his laptop. “I was pissed, Y/N. You said—” He hesitated. “You said I should just break up with you.”
Your breath caught.
“…And you said maybe you should.”
His jaw tightened. “You think I meant that?”
“I don’t know, Sunghoon. Did you?”
His brows furrowed, like the idea alone irritated him. “No. I didn’t.”
A pause.
Then, softer—
“Did you?”
Your lips parted slightly, realization crashing over you. “No,” you admitted. “I didn’t.”
Sunghoon sighed, running a hand down his face. “Then why the hell did we let this go on for four days?”
You swallowed hard. “Because we’re both stupid?”
For the first time in days, his lips twitched slightly.
Then he shook his head, exhaling. “I hate fighting with you.”
Your chest ached.
“…Me too.”
Sunghoon studied you for a moment, then reached out—pulling you into his arms, right there in the middle of the library.
You stiffened for half a second before melting into his warmth, inhaling his familiar scent.
“I didn’t mean it,” he murmured against your hair. “Any of it.”
With the major pieces already in place, you and Sunghoon spent your first week back from the honeymoon filling in the little things that would make your house a home.
Together, you wandered through furniture showrooms and home decor shops—arguing over bar stool heights, testing throw pillows like they were mattresses, debating over which type of coasters didn’t ruin the “aesthetic.” Sunghoon tried to convince you that a “robot vacuum” was an essential item while you insisted that your hands would fall off if you didn’t get the exact shade of cream curtains you’d pinned months ago.
But somehow, you always met in the middle.
You chose a plush rug for the living room together—a creamy beige with golden undertones—and spent a whole afternoon arranging the bookshelves just right (which really meant rearranging them five times until it “felt balanced”). The hallway got subtle accent lighting, and the kitchen counter now held a tiny herb garden that Sunghoon swore he’d remember to water. Your vanity area was set up just the way you liked it, your infamous curler finally found and given its own drawer.
“Remind me again why you need three different types of throw blankets for one couch?” he teased one evening, watching you fluff the corners of the last one.
“Because it’s called texture, lolove,” you replied without missing a beat, earning a grin and a back hug as he rested his chin on your shoulder.
Every night felt like a sleepover with your best friend—except it was your real life. You cooked together, burned toast together, danced in your socks on the newly polished floors, and fell asleep each night with limbs tangled and hearts full.
But soon, real life called.
Your first day back at work as Mrs. Park started deceptively normal.
You wore your usual soft-toned blouse and pressed trousers, hair pinned back neatly, and a faint glow still lingered from your honeymoon tan. The elevator ride up to the 14th floor was smooth, your coffee was hot, and the office looked just as chaotic and gray as you remembered.
But something had shifted.
The second you stepped into the marketing bullpen, heads turned. Smiles spread. A few co-workers clapped—gently, teasingly.
“Look who’s back!”
“She’s glowing.”
“Oh, it’s Mrs. Park now, right?”
You smiled, cheeks already warming. “Technically, yes.”
“And how’s Mr. Park doing down on 13?” your desk neighbor winked, nudging your arm.
“Still allergic to Slack notifications,” you deadpanned, which got a laugh.
You hadn’t even taken off your coat before someone was asking to see the ring again, and before you could answer, your phone buzzed.
Lolove💍:
heard the mrs. park thing already huh
you okay or should I sneak you a donut for courage
You smiled to yourself and replied:
i’m surviving. you’re next.
Sure enough, just one floor below, Sunghoon’s morning wasn’t much quieter.
He stepped into the finance floor with a fresh haircut and a not-so-subtle spring in his step. His desk had a small bouquet of fake roses someone had taped a sticky note to:
For Mr. Married now. – Finance Squad
“Mr. Park!” one of the senior analysts called out. “How’s married life treating you?”
He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Peaceful. Efficient. Full of her stealing my snacks.”
“And how’s Mrs. Park?” another coworker teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
Sunghoon’s ears turned red. “She’s fine,” he said, trying to sound casual—but the smile tugging at his lips gave him away completely.
“Oh my god,” one of the interns whispered under her breath, watching him walk to the coffee machine. “He’s, like, smug in love.”
“I heard he made a spreadsheet for their honeymoon budget.”
Sunghoon returned to his desk with a new mug that read “Husband Era”—a gift from Yeji—and a text from you.
people are saying you look smug
pls stop looking like you just won the lottery
He smirked and typed back:
i did tho. mrs. park = jackpot.
😌💍
Later in the afternoon, you had to head down to the finance floor for a quick interdepartmental budget meeting. As you stepped into the room, Sunghoon was already seated with his team—tie loosened just slightly, fingers tapping against his tablet.
He looked up. His gaze softened the second he saw you.
The room fell quiet for just a beat too long.
One of the junior staffers broke the silence with a grin.
“So, should we start or are you two gonna pretend this is a romcom boardroom moment?”
You rolled your eyes, stifling a laugh. “Can we please be normal for ten minutes?”
“Impossible,” Sunghoon murmured with a small smirk, then pulled out the extra chair beside him without a word.
You sat. Your knees touched. Everyone noticed.
The meeting went smoothly—punctuated by a few side glances, a lot of smirking, and one point where someone absolutely fake-coughed the word “honeymoon” when Sunghoon said the word “expenses.”
Afterward, as everyone trickled out, you turned to him, arms crossed.
“You’re eating this up.”
He held up his hands in faux innocence. “I haven’t said a word.”
“But you look like you’re internally monologuing ‘that’s right, she’s my wife’ every five minutes.”
He tilted his head, smiling at you. “Maybe I am. What’re you gonna do about it, Mrs. Park?”
You narrowed your eyes. “Nothing right now.”
“But later?” he asked, playful and low.
You leaned in close, brushing your lips near his ear just enough to make him freeze.
“Later… I’m stealing all your strawberry yogurt.”
He blinked. “…Cruel woman.”
You winked and walked out, leaving him grinning at his desk, ears flushed pink, heart very, very full.
It was the first day back—but somehow, with the teasing coworkers, the soft smiles in passing, and the feeling of simply existing near each other, it already felt like the beginning of something even more grounded, more fun, more real.
Married life hadn’t just followed you to the office. It made everything sweeter.
It had been a long week of deadlines and late nights at the office, so when your best friends planned a much-needed girls’ day out, Sunghoon practically shoved you out the door.
“You haven’t had a day to yourself in forever,” he said that morning, tying your hair back for you like he always did when you were running late. “Go. Eat, drink, laugh, be loud. I’ll clean up around here and wait for you.”
And you did.
Lunch turned into bottomless wine.
Laughter turned into wild dancing.
And by the time the driver dropped you off at the house that night, your phone had 8 unread messages from Sunghoon, all variations of:
“You alive?”
“Don’t climb into any fountains.”
“Send me a pic so I know you’re still hot.”
“I miss your face. Come home.”
You giggled to yourself as you stumbled up the porch, keys jingling before you gave up and just knocked on the door like a drunk raccoon.
He opened it instantly, like he’d been standing right there. Hair damp, wearing his navy pajama pants and a white tank top, eyes blinking at your slightly swaying figure.
You beamed. “Hiiii, lolove.”
He blinked. “Oh boy.”
You stepped inside dramatically, tossing your bag somewhere vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack. “I feel so good, Sunghooonie. The wine? It tasted like…grapes, but sexy.”
“You are grapes right now,” he muttered under his breath, catching you as you bumped into the wall.
“I missed youuu,” you slurred, throwing your arms around his neck. “Why’re you so handsome? That should be illegal.”
He chuckled, holding you steady. “You’re very drunk.”
“Drunk in love,” you sighed, kissing his jaw. “Beyoncé would be proud.”
He shook his head fondly and scooped you up bridal style before you could even react. “Alright, Mrs. Beyoncé. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
The lights in the bathroom were low and warm, a candle already lit—he always did that when you were out late. Just in case you needed comfort coming home.
He helped you out of your clothes gently, careful not to make you feel too exposed. You clung to him anyway, your forehead resting on his shoulder.
“You smell like perfume and sangria,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “And trouble.”
You whined. “M’not trouble. I’m precious.”
“Yes, precious and dehydrated,” he said, lowering you slowly into the warm bath. “Sit. Relax. I’ll be right back.”
You dunked your arms in dramatically. “It’s like soup. I’m the noodle.”
He snorted as he walked away, only to return with water and a couple of pills. “Drink first. Noodles need electrolytes.”
You stuck your tongue out at him but obeyed, letting him tip the glass to your lips. After the meds, he knelt beside the tub and dipped a washcloth into the water, gently wiping your face, your neck, your shoulders.
You looked at him through fluttery lashes. “How are you so gentle?”
He smiled softly. “Because you’re my whole world. Why wouldn’t I be?”
Later, wrapped in a fresh towel and wobbling slightly, you sat on the edge of the bed while he gently blow-dried your hair. You blinked sleepily at your reflection in the mirror, watching him behind you—focused, careful, fingers threading through your hair like silk.
“You’re good at this,” you mumbled.
“I’ve had practice,” he replied, smoothing a section down. “You drool on me in your sleep, and I still love you. Blow-drying is nothing.”
You giggled and swayed slightly. “I really missed you today.”
He looked at you in the mirror. “Even with your girls?”
“Especially then,” you whispered, quieter now. “It was fun. But I kept thinking about you. And how I get to come home to you. That’s the best part.”
His hand slowed, gaze softening.
“Do you know how much I love you?” you asked, turning around to face him fully now, damp hair framing your face like a halo.
He set the dryer down and cupped your face gently. “I know. But tell me anyway.”
You leaned into his touch, voice slurred but honest. “I love you stupid. Like… embarrassing love. Like want-to-hold-your-hand-during-conference-calls love.”
Sunghoon laughed under his breath. “You’re gonna regret admitting that when you’re sober.”
You grinned. “Maybe. But it’s still true.”
He kissed you—slow and sure and full of quiet promise. Then pulled the comforter back and tucked you in like a delicate little burrito, your hair dry, skin clean, heart full.
As he turned off the light and climbed in beside you, you found his hand beneath the covers and whispered sleepily:
“Best. Husband. Ever.”
And he squeezed your fingers, smiling into the dark.
“Drunk or not… still my favorite version of you.”
You woke up to the smell of garlic rice and eggs—and the faint, mocking sound of your own voice from last night echoing in your head:
“I love you stupid… like conference-call hand-holding love.”
You groaned, face buried deep into the pillow.
Sunghoon was already up. Of course he was. Probably wearing another tank top and acting like he hadn’t just carried you like a tipsy noodle into the bathtub twelve hours ago.
The bedroom door creaked open.
“I hear signs of life,” he called, cheery and evil.
You grumbled without lifting your head. “Leave me in peace.”
“Nope. You made a vow, remember? Through hangovers and questionable karaoke decisions.”
You peeked up at him—hair damp, towel slung around his shoulders, skin still glowing annoyingly post-shower.
He held up a plate like an offering. “Made your favorite. Breakfast rice, eggs, spam hearts. Coffee in a cute mug.”
You blinked at the heart-shaped spam. “You really love me, huh.”
He set the plate on the nightstand, grinning. “Well, I did. Before you tried to climb into the fridge last night claiming it was a ‘cool, emotional cave.’”
You dropped your head back to the pillow, groaning into the mattress. “Please delete me.”
He laughed and sat beside you, reaching out to gently stroke your hair. “Sorry. No take-backs. I’m keeping you—dramatic wine brain and all.”
You cracked one eye open. “Did I say anything else embarrassing?”
He pretended to think, lips twitching. “Just that you wanted me to ‘blow-dry your soul.’”
“Oh my God.”
“Honestly? Poetic. I might get it tattooed.”
You smacked his thigh weakly.
Then you sat up, finally accepting the plate, and took a bite. He watched you with that lovesick husband gaze, chin on his palm, all dreamy and amused.
“You’re being suspiciously nice,” you said through a mouthful of egg.
He shrugged. “You took care of me for months when I had that flu. It’s my turn now. Plus, drunk you gave me at least six compliments in under two minutes. I’m riding the high.”
You sipped the coffee, eyes narrowing. “…What compliments?”
He leaned in and kissed your cheek. “You said I was your husband nightlight.”
“That’s not even a thing.”
“It is now,” he whispered proudly.
Eventually, you made your way downstairs—showered, teeth brushed, hair in a clip—where Sunghoon was already cleaning up in the kitchen, music humming low from the speaker.
You hugged him from behind, arms slipping around his waist.
He paused mid-dishwashing and smiled. “You sure you’re feeling better? No emotional fridge caves today?”
You groaned into his back. “Stop bringing it up.”
“Never,” he said, turning and kissing your forehead.
He poured you another cup of coffee, then gestured toward the sunny backyard. “You wanna eat the rest outside? Or you want to stay in and finish recovering while I continue being your human spa?”
You grinned, already plopping into one of the stools. “Stay in. Maybe later we can nap. Or rewatch our wedding video. Or reorganize the spice rack. Who knows.”
He leaned on the counter across from you, eyes warm. “I love this version of us.”
“Which part? Hungover and vulnerable?”
“No,” he said softly. “Home. Morning after. Coffee. Knowing you love me stupid, even when your head’s pounding.”
You laughed, cheeks pink. “Still true. I love you like… forehead kisses during meetings love.”
He reached for your hand. “I love you like… folding your laundry but pretending I hate it love.”
You smiled back. “That’s a lot of love.”
He kissed your knuckles. “And we’ve got a lifetime more of it.”
Sunghoon sat on the bathroom counter, arms crossed as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He rubbed his jaw, where the slight stubble had started to grow in.
“I think I’ll shave it off,” he muttered.
You, standing next to him, tilted your head. “I don’t mind it.”
He gave you a look. “You said it was scratching you the other night.”
You grinned. “That’s because you were rubbing your face against mine like a cat.”
Sunghoon scoffed but didn’t deny it. “Still, I think it’s time. Help me?”
You perked up, immediately grabbing the shaving cream. “Sit still, Mr. Park.”
His lips twitched at the formal tone, but he obediently stayed in place as you lathered the cream onto his jawline. His eyes remained on you, watching how carefully you spread it across his skin.
“You’re taking this seriously,” he mused.
“Of course. Your face is my favorite thing to look at.”
Sunghoon bit the inside of his cheek to hide a smile.
As you picked up the razor, you met his gaze in the mirror. “I swear, if you move and I accidentally cut you, I’m going to laugh first before I help.”
He sighed dramatically. “How reassuring.”
Carefully, you started shaving, gently tilting his face when needed. Sunghoon closed his eyes, completely trusting you. The intimacy of the moment made your heart swell—just you and him, in your shared home, doing something as simple as this.
When you finished, you wiped away the excess cream with a warm towel, admiring your work. “There. My handsome fiancé is back.”
Sunghoon smirked. “Was I not handsome before?”
You rolled your eyes and playfully flicked his forehead. “You know what I mean.”
He chuckled, leaning forward to press a quick kiss against your lips.
But before he could escape, you grabbed a brow razor. “Wait. Your brows need a little cleaning up too.”
Sunghoon groaned. “Again? Didn’t you do them last time?”
“Yes, but they grow back. Come on, let me make you prettier.”
“I’m already pretty.”
You laughed. “Just sit still, pretty boy.”
Sunghoon grumbled under his breath but let you work. His fingers absentmindedly traced small patterns against your waist while you trimmed his brows.
As you moved on to applying skincare, gently patting serum onto his face, he sighed in contentment.
“We should set a date soon,” he murmured, voice soft.
You paused, looking at him. “For the wedding?”
He nodded, eyes fluttering open. “I know we wanted to take our time, but I think I’m just excited.”
Your heart melted. “Me too.”
Sunghoon smiled, catching your wrist and pressing a kiss to your palm. “Then let’s start planning properly. I want it to be perfect.”
You cupped his cheek, thumb brushing against his smooth skin. “It already will be. Because it’s us.”
Sunghoon exhaled through his nose, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you between his legs. “I love you.”
You smiled, pressing your forehead against his. “I love you more.”
Sunghoon hummed, squeezing you tighter. “Debatable.”
Sunghoon sat on the couch, his laptop open with multiple tabs of wedding venues, themes, and planners. You were curled up beside him, scrolling through Pinterest boards on your phone, eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Okay,” Sunghoon started, rubbing his temple. “So, we need to decide on a date first. That way, we can start booking everything else.”
You looked up, tilting your head in thought. “Do we want a spring wedding? Summer? Winter?”
Sunghoon hummed. “Spring seems nice. Not too hot, not too cold. And flowers will be in full bloom.”
You beamed. “I like that. Maybe mid-April?”
“April,” he repeated, nodding. “That gives us time to plan everything properly.”
You both high-fived, pleased with your first major decision.
“Now, the venue,” you said, flipping your phone screen to show him. “I found a few options—some near the city and a few outside of it. Do we want something elegant and grand, or something more intimate?”
Sunghoon scrolled through the options. “I want whatever makes you happy.”
You rolled your eyes, nudging him. “No, really. I want it to be something we both love.”
He smirked. “Then how about a mix? Something elegant but not too overwhelming. I like this one,” he pointed to a venue by the countryside, surrounded by gardens and an open space for an outdoor ceremony. “It’s private, peaceful, and the scenery is perfect.”
You softened, imagining it already. “It’s beautiful. And we can decorate it however we want.”
Sunghoon nodded. “Should we book a visit this weekend?”
“Absolutely.”
With the date and venue settled, you moved on to themes.
“I was thinking of something timeless,” you mused. “Soft colors, lots of lights, an ethereal feel—kind of like a fairytale.”
Sunghoon grinned. “Like a princess wedding?”
“More like a ‘this-is-the-most-beautiful-love-story-ever’ wedding.”
He chuckled. “That does sound like us.”
But as you continued browsing, you realized something—planning a wedding, even just the basics, was a lot. And that was only the beginning.
Sunghoon must’ve sensed your growing stress because he gently took your phone and set it down. “You know… we could hire a planner.”
You sighed. “I know, but I wanted to handle everything myself.”
“And I love that about you, but I don’t want you overwhelmed. I did some research,” he said, opening a new tab. “There’s this wedding planner that everyone swears by. She’s the best of the best, and she makes every couple’s vision come to life.”
Curious, you leaned closer, reading through the reviews. Every single one was glowing.
“…Okay, let’s meet with her.”
Sunghoon smiled, kissing your temple. “Good. Because I already booked a consultation.”
You stared at him. “You what?”
“I knew you’d agree eventually,” he said smugly.
You playfully smacked his arm. “You sneaky little—”
Sunghoon laughed, catching your hand and intertwining your fingers. “Come on, my loloves. Let’s plan the wedding of our dreams.”
And with that, the real preparations began.
The following weekend, you and Sunghoon arrived at the office of Choi Hana, the highly recommended wedding planner he had booked. The place was stunning—modern yet cozy, with soft floral arrangements decorating the reception area. It was exactly the kind of elegance you envisioned for your wedding.
A cheerful assistant welcomed you both before leading you into Hana’s office. The woman herself was poised, exuding an air of quiet confidence. She stood to greet you with a warm smile.
“Park Sunghoon and Y/N, it’s lovely to meet you. I’ve heard quite a bit about you two.”
Sunghoon raised a brow, smirking. “Oh? Hopefully, only good things.”
Hana chuckled. “Nothing but praise. I was told you wanted something timeless and romantic?”
You nodded excitedly. “Yes! We were thinking of an outdoor ceremony, something soft and dreamy but not too extravagant.”
Sunghoon added, “Something elegant, but intimate enough to feel personal.”
Hana clasped her hands together. “That’s a wonderful direction. Do you have a color palette in mind?”
You glanced at Sunghoon, and he gestured for you to answer.
“Soft pastels, maybe a champagne or ivory base? Something airy and ethereal, like a fairytale but modern.”
Hana smiled approvingly. “That sounds beautiful. And for the reception—would you prefer an outdoor or indoor setting?”
Sunghoon tilted his head. “Indoor. If we do the ceremony outside, I think having the dinner and party inside would balance things out.”
You nodded. “That makes sense. A ballroom with big windows overlooking the garden would be perfect.”
Hana jotted down notes. “I have just the venue in mind. It fits your vision, and the reviews are outstanding. I’ll set up a tour for next week.”
You squeezed Sunghoon’s hand under the table, excitement bubbling inside you. Everything was coming together.
Over the next few weeks, the wedding preparations kicked into full gear.
• Venue visits: You and Sunghoon toured multiple locations before ultimately settling on the one Hana recommended—a breathtaking estate with a sprawling garden and a grand ballroom. The moment you stepped in, you knew it was the one.
• Dress and suit fittings: You brought your closest friends to your bridal boutique appointments while Sunghoon and Minjae went for his custom tuxedo fitting. He refused to let you see his suit, teasing, “You’ll just have to wait and see, my loloves.”
• Guest list discussions: You debated over who to invite, making sure it was an intimate yet meaningful crowd. Sunghoon, of course, insisted Minseok had to be there just so he could gloat about being right all along.
• Food tastings: This was easily Sunghoon’s favorite part. He took it very seriously, commenting on every dish like he was a professional food critic.
Through it all, Sunghoon made sure you weren’t overwhelmed, handling whatever tasks he could.
One night, after a long day of planning, you collapsed onto the couch, groaning. “How do people plan a whole wedding without losing their minds?”
Sunghoon chuckled, sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms. “That’s why I hired Hana. I know you like to do things yourself, but I also want you to enjoy this process.”
You softened, burying your face into his chest. “You’re right… as usual.”
He smirked. “You should say that more often.”
You flicked his forehead. “Don’t push it.”
He laughed, leaning in to kiss your temple. “We’ve got this, lolove. It’s going to be perfect.”
And deep down, you knew it would be—because you were doing it together.
