Author: bratzkoo
Pairing: hoshi x reader (soonyoungiiie~)
Genre: fluff, angst, crack, dont take hoshi and woozi away from me.
Rating: PG-13
Note: slow updates, still haven't figure out the outline and plot. i just wanted to finish this before the tiger serves and slay in his military.
summary: After his bandmate and his now gf's success in WE GOT MARRIED, our resident horanghae lover gets his turn. But what if the girl end up being the person that broke his heart before he debuted. Will he get the same ending as his bandmate?
pre production
episode 1
episode 2
episode 3
episode 4
episode 5
episode 6
episode 7
episode 8
episode 9
last episode.
Seokmin/DK's WGM series masterlist
hi hello! this is my very first svt fic i’m releasing online, so i’m really hoping you enjoy!
synopsis : blue envelopes and a four year long crush who wears coca cola chapsticks and grapefruit cologne. god, kwon soonyoung is just a boy of everyone’s dreams.
genre : fluff and fluff and floofy fluff but disappointment warning at the end rip (femreader x soonyoung, highschool boy soonyoung, highschool girl reader)
word count : 3k
Dear Soonyoung,
I know you’re a pretty popular guy in our school. You’re way out of my league, and to be honest I can’t really tell if you like having me around at all. First day of freshman year of high school was when I first laid my eyes on you.
You were with your other equally good-looking and popular friends. And I actually wasn’t planning on approaching you at all at first. I was planning to talk to Wonwoo first if anything...but then when I nearly tripped while passing you by, you pulled me back and ended up falling yourself.
That was funny. But I still remember it, I mean how could I not? You started laughing so hard the entire hallway was looking at you all weird. I guess it started then. Your stupid head pats and hair ruffles, the chocolate you gave me on Valentines because everyone got some but I was the only one who didn’t.
I feel stupid confessing to you like this, acting like I’m special. I know you’re just a nice guy who likes doing nice things for others. But, it’s senior year now and even if I feel like a middle-schooler writing bullshit like this, I couldn’t stand saying all this to your face.
I have feelings for you, Soonyoung.
Sincerely, ___
You sigh.
It’s not the first time you’ve written a letter like this to your four year long crush. You have piles and piles of the same confession letters collecting dust in your drawer. It somehow doesn’t get boring though. Maybe it’s slightly enjoyable, or maybe it’s just that momentary satiation you get from finally saying your feelings out loud.
Just as you shove your umpteenth letter into your drawer, the bell of your house rings. With quick steps, you rush out of your room and make a beeline straight towards the front door. Thankfully, your room isn’t that far from the main entrance to have you running.
Through the small peephole of the door, you see Soonyoung in a plain, gray hoodie and wet hair that curtains down his forehead. As always, he looks good.
When you open the door, he casually slips in. Strangely enough, he hasn’t been to your house more than once, but he seems quite at home despite the fact. You and Soonyoung aren’t exceptionally close, but you’ve been invited to hang out with him and his friends a couple times.
And this time you got paired up for a project, so you suggested he visit your place to work on it together.
“Why didn’t you come after drying your hair? You’ll get sick.” You follow suit after his steps, nagging.
“Saves electricity and time. Besides, letting your hair air-dry is much healthier than using a blow dryer.” He shakes his hair in your face, droplets of water landing on your cheeks.
Once he realizes he reached the living room - a cozy, small space with a single couch and coffee table - he swings his backpack and lets it fall on the sofa. He claps, once, turning to face you.
“So,” he says.
Puzzled, “So…?” You parrot. He groans, plopping down onto the carpeted floor with a hard thump.
“You don’t think I came here to do the actual project, do you?” The question is rhetoric. Soonyoung sits cross-legged, while his elbows rest on the coffee table in front of him.
You tilt your head in confusion. “You didn’t?”
He gives a sassy roll of his eyes before hopping back up on his feet. Abruptly, he leans in closer, not that close, but close enough that you could feel a gentle breath fan your face. Still, the proximity has your heart skipping a couple beats.
“Nerd.” He laughs light-heartedly, pulling away. His fruity cologne wafts in the air with every movement. He always smells like grapefruits and cocktails on a summer night.
“What did you want to do, then?” You ask, genuinely curious. He shrugs his shoulders,
“I don’t know, hang out with you. Everyone else is kind of boring.” He says. His fingers timidly play with the hem of his hoodie, and his lips are pulled into a cute frown.
God, he just knows how to tug at your heartstrings. Your cheeks flush into a cherry red shade, and you silently will the sudden heat in your face to go away. You’re left speechless.
“Oh,” is all you manage. Attention averted from his rather uninteresting hoodie to you, his mood seems to turn slightly blue at your response.
“Never--nevermind, let’s just get started on the project then. I forget you’re top of the class sometimes.” There’s a tinge of rejection that tweaks his words, and you realize you’ve fucked up for the nth time in your life.
“Wait! It’s not that I don’t want to hang out with you,” you bite your cheek, “or anything...uh,”
His ears perk up, he hopes for a reciprocated response this time. If you ace this project, you don’t have to retake an exam you missed (for the first time in your life, because you were busy quarrelling with your sister in the morning).
But...you think you can retake that stupid test if it means you get to spend more time with Soonyoung. Fuck it, I guess.
“My room is just down the hall, first door to the right. Wait there and I’ll bring some snacks ‘round.” You instruct. You think a small bit of rebellious pride bubbles in your stomach, but you blame the feeling on the butterflies that never leave when Soonyoung’s around.
With a newfound joy, he clicks his tongue with a wink. “Yes ma’am.”
You can’t help but let out a small laugh as he navigates away to find your room. You take your time laying out different snacks (sweets, you have an unhealthy sugar addiction), bringing a full carton of orange juice with you since you couldn’t bother pulling cups out. The house is completely empty, your family members having promised they wouldn’t come back until late night.
When you enter your room with a full plate of some peppero, kancho, some mochi and homemade cookies, you find Soonyoung hovering over your desk.
Shit. Your fucking letters.
Your drawer stays unopened, but you’re still skeptical, even when Soonyoung snaps his attention away from the mess of notebooks on your desk. You mutely observe him. He looks normal. Unbothered.
Internally, you sigh in relief.
Shuffling to your desk, your hands quickly shove your belongings on it away to make some space. You set the plate down while Soonyoung simply intently watches you. It puts you at a slight unrest, as his gaze rakes over you intensely.
“Take a picture, it lasts longer.” You joke, moving to sit down on your bed. He finally stirs his eyes away from you, laughing lightly.
“I would.” Mumbles. You couldn’t hear it though. It’s not like he meant for you to hear, anyway.
He takes a seat on the bed beside you, leaning backwards on his palms. His eyes rove over your room. The space isn’t really big, he thinks. There’s a desk just next to your bed, with a closet on the other end of the room.
It’s decorated with some crystals on the shelves and succulents on the windowsill. He takes note that you like green and yellow, considering the large amount of plants and yellow accents. He’s pretty sure that the big plant pot in the corner of the room is a bonsai tree.
But he’s not big on nature, so he’s not sure.
“Nice room. Last time I came here it was all blue and stuff.” He says. You snort.
“I was fourteen when you were last here. Besides, I pretended to be obsessed with blue to impress yo--” Slip up. “Boys. To impress boys.”
You clear your throat.
He laughs. “Didn’t peg you to be the type that tries to impress boys or anything.”
“I didn’t really. It was just for someone specifically.” You say, shifting your attention to your fidgeting hands. Unconsciously, you find yourself biting your lip, a habit you haven’t been able to discard.
Small scars litter your bottom lip, swollen and red from the damage. There’s a moment of silence before you feel an unfamiliar finger on your lips. Eyes wide, you look up. Soonyoung gently pulls your lip away from the grasp of your teeth with the pad of his thumb.
There’s a lot of things Soonyoung’s bad at. He’s frankly horrible at math. But if you had to name something he’s good at, you could list a million things beyond school subjects.
Like, you. He’s good with you. Slightly gentler, slightly less loud and slightly more understanding. You don’t know why, but you appreciate it.
The finger grazes above the small dent your canines made, soothing it over. He sighs.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” He pouts, hand moving away. You nod, that cherry red returning back to your cheeks. It was probably that thumb of his at your lips just a second ago, but an odd sense of adrenaline rushes through you.
“Blue is your favourite color, right?” You find yourself asking, before you even have the time to register the question itself. A nod.
“Yeah, I guess. Why?” He rakes his hair with one hand, eyes sparkling. Somehow - you’re not really sure where you discovered the courage - you wordlessly stand up to open your drawer.
In it, there’s blue envelopes upon other blue envelopes, signed to be sent to Soonyoung. You pick up your most recent one in between your fingers. With a stroke of your inner prowess, you face the destination of the letter himself.
He tilts his head in question.
“Here. Read it when you get home. Only when you’re alone, okay?” You hand it to him, and he accepts it with humble hands.
“Okay.” He breathes.
It had been days since he went home with the blue envelope tucked in his pocket. He hadn’t spoken to you at all, even when you passed by him in the hallways or when you sat next to each other during English class. It’s not that you didn’t expect it.
You knew you kept your hopes too high. He had more than just you that he could turn to for company, girls swarmed around him every chance they got. Prettier girls. Girls who liked the things he did.
Another school day finished, chit chats with some classmates keeping your mind off things. Focusing on school would be the best, for now anyway. College is just around the corner, and you’d hate to lose your straight A streak because of some silly crush.
It’s about six in the evening when you complete studying the required chapters for an upcoming test. You’re now collecting some belongings from your locker to finally head home. You usually stay back at school to study in the library instead of going home. It helps you concentrate better, in a way. A yawn escapes you, tired. The school is empty for the most part, save a couple students walking around.
“How do you study so much?” A voice creeps up from behind, making you jump. Familiar, but not Soonyoung. Momentarily, you pause the act of shoving books into your bag. You crane your neck to meet the person, just to find that it’s,
“Seokmin,” you question, “what are you doing here so late?”
Seokmin is just another one of your classmates, he shares physics and chemistry classes with you. Someone who hangs around Soonyoung and Wonwoo a lot. Most students here know their name, pretty much everyone has seen them at least once in this entire building. He’s good-looking and most definitely humorous, you’ve shared some laughs with him.
“Waiting for you, kind of.” He says.
Huh? Seokmin? For you?
Almost like he could read your mind, “I have something to give you really quick but I didn’t want to disturb your studies, so,” he explains.
Your mouth forms the shape of an ‘o’. “What is it?”
An envelope is pulled out of one of his back pockets, and he sheepishly hands it to you. You only notice the sage green color of it once it’s in your own hands.
“Alright, I gotta run now. See you on Monday!” He waves, before he sprints off and down the hallway, disappearing behind the corner.
You huff, curiously exploring the envelope. Pastel yellow heart cut-outs glued onto the front and back of it, with wrinkled paper lines on the sides. A hand-made origami envelope. You giggle a little bit at the evident effort.
You pull out a folded piece of paper, which you open to be greeted by scribbly, messy handwriting. You recognize this handwriting.
Dear ___,
I’m going to be completely honest...I’ve never written anything remotely like this since 1st grade when we were writing thank you letters for Parent’s Day. But, I’ll try my best, since yours was so beautifully written. That day at your house, I actually opened one of these. I’m sorry for invading your privacy like that by the way. I saw my name on the receiver’s name and I couldn’t help it.
I was pretty surprised. It never crossed my mind that you thought of me that way, since you always seemed a little bit...indifferent? I swear I’m not trying to insult you or anything, I just don’t know how else to put it. I remember that day too, first day of freshman year. Your hair was in a ponytail and your backpack was huge.
I also remember I wanted to ask you out for the school dance in sophomore year so bad but I didn’t have the courage so I went with my friends instead. I never got to tell you how stunning you looked that day. I always observed you from afar, because I was afraid you wouldn’t like guys like me, loud and most definitely not smart. I guess I was wrong.
I’ve seriously liked you for the longest time ever. So like meet me in the janitor’s closet at 6:15 today?
I’ll be waiting. (just until 7 tho, I can’t be late for dinner or my mom will have my head)
Yours Truly, Kwon Soonyoung
Your cheeks are pulled up into one of your best smiles. At a rapid speed, you shove the letter back in the envelope, although carefully. Abandoning your backpack and all other clobber, you check the time.
6:12
Quickly - that was the only thing plaguing your mind as you steered along different halls, looking for that door with big ‘JANITORS CLOSET’ letters splayed across it. And it was there. In a haste, you opened the door to see a Soonyoung leaning against one of the steel shelves.
He looks up, a giddy grin on his lips.
“___,” He calls. You like the way your name rolls off his tongue. It makes you sound special, somewhat.
“Soonyoung, I-” Soonyoung doesn’t give you any more time before he grabs your wrist to pull you close. Chest to chest, knee to knee. He’s close, so so close.
Enough that you could count the sparkly flecks in those deep brown swirls of his if you wanted to. Proximately near that all you can smell is that fucking citrus cologne that he wears everyday, so addictive you want him this close all the time.
“Can I kiss you?” Soonyoung asks, hushed. Your nod is all he needs.
His soft lips meet yours, timid at first. Gentle and sweet, he tilts his head to get a better angle, and there it is, the taste of Coca Cola chapstick. Strangely, you find yourself not being able to get enough of it. Your arms move to wrap around his neck, but due to the lack of space, your back ends up bumping into some equipment.
“Ow,” you mumble against his lips. Momentum broken.
He laughs, pulling away. A little bit out of breath, you both take a couple seconds to catch it, foreheads against each other.
“You okay?” He exhales, minty breath fanning your cheeks.
With a giggle, you respond with a ‘yes’. You lean in for a soft peck. Everything was just so perfect, at the time.
;
Of course, it’s easy to say that things feel perfect. Because it’s true, at the given time, it really was. But after years pass, things change. Now that you sit at your high school reunion six years later, you realize that.
It’s a warm and cute cafe where the reunion is held. A juxtaposition next to the wintry weather just outside the glass windows. Here they all are.
Wonwoo, the dude you didn’t really know, but heard of in every hall, now sitting tall and quiet across you. Seokmin, a handsome funny kid, always loud in the halls, looking even better and just as loud as more than half a decade ago. Taehee, a girl you shared almost every single one of your classes with, someone you shared a lot of memories with.
A couple others whom you spent a fair-share of your high school years with.
And, Soonyoung. Your ever-so-good-looking high school boyfriend, a man you held most dear to your heart. Six years. Six years since that day you first got together. Funny how even though it’s been that long he didn’t change, at all. Apart from his features maturing to sculpt him just right, like a fossil, he’s almost the exact same.
They’re all laughing about something you vaguely heard was about graduation day, and how half of them didn’t know what was next. You observe them all, sipping on your coffee.
It’s so sweet it makes your teeth ache. You don’t like coffee, to be frank. There’s always that bitter aftertaste you can’t get rid of no matter how much sugar you stir into it.
“___, what happened to you and Soonyoung? You guys used to be all over each other.” Seokmin mentions, while chewing on some cake he ordered. You turn to look at Soonyoung.
He’s smiling at you, that smile you remember from years ago. Returning his twinkle with a smile of your own, you both shrug in unison.
“Not everything lasts, I guess.” Wonwoo mutters, tuning into the conversation.
Like the painful sweetness of this coffee, yours and Soonyoung’s love was like the weight of thousands of sugar cubes. But the bitterness at the end was inevitable. You both didn’t like the unpleasant tang it offered, but the sweetness was warm and fuzzy while it lasted.
It was like coffee. You and him.
---
thank you so much if you’ve read till the very end <3 feedback is always appreciated! please reblog if you liked it, it boosts my reach :)
part 1. crimson ties | seungcheol, jeonghan, mingyu
Author: bratzkoo
Pairing: mafia! svt x mafia! oc, basically. gyu x oc, seungcheol x oc, jeonghan x oc
Genre: angst, fluff
Rating: PG-15
Word count: 6.2k
Warnings/note: eck. cursing probably. loosely inspired by the yakuza boss' beloved.
summary: seungcheol is a businessman and a mafia boss. jeonghan is annoyed with gigi, and mingyu is a puppy.
crimson ties masterlist
The conference room on the forty-second floor of Celestial Enterprises was designed to intimidate. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Seoul's skyline, the morning sun casting sharp shadows across the obsidian table. Seungcheol sat at the head, fingers steepled, watching his core team settle in for the morning briefing.
Jeonghan arrived first, as always, settling into the chair at Seungcheol's right with a cup of coffee and that deceptively gentle smile that had fooled countless rivals into underestimating him. Joshua followed, impeccable in a navy suit, already reviewing notes on his tablet. Wonwoo slouched into his seat last, hoodie visible beneath his suit jacket, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Just the four of us this morning?" Joshua asked.
"Initial meeting only," Seungcheol confirmed. "I want to get a read on them first before we bring in the full team. If this partnership is as significant as it appears, I need to know who we're really dealing with."
"Paranoid," Wonwoo observed.
"Careful," Seungcheol corrected.
"The Delacroix account," Joshua began, pulling up a presentation on the screen, "represents our largest potential European partnership. They're looking to expand their luxury brand portfolio into Asian markets. Marie Delacroix herself is heading the negotiations."
"Delacroix?" Jeonghan's eyebrows rose. "As in the Delacroix luxury conglomerate?"
"The same family, yes. Though according to our research, Marie built her consulting career independently. Started her own firm at twenty-three, has been wildly successful."
Seungcheol studied the photo on the screen. Professional headshot, expensive suit, dark hair styled in soft waves, a smile that seemed genuine but gave nothing away. Something about her eyes caught his attention—sharp intelligence tempered with something else he couldn't quite name.
"Background check?" he asked.
Wonwoo tapped his tablet. "Clean. Almost suspiciously clean. No scandals, no debts, philanthropic work with children's hospitals, keeps a low public profile despite her family name. She's bringing two associates—Gigi Park and Ella Ricci. Park has some interesting gaps in her employment history—five years working in 'private security' in Europe before joining Delacroix's consulting firm. The kind of vague that usually means intelligence work."
"Surveillance footage from the hotel?"
"Got it this morning." Wonwoo pulled up a video. Even in the grainy footage, Gigi's movements were telling—the way she scanned rooms, positioned herself near exits, maintained awareness of everyone around her. "Yeah, that's intelligence training. She's good at hiding it, but it's there."
"And Ricci?" Seungcheol prompted.
"Assistant, apparently. But her background is even sketchier—only three years of verifiable history since she joined Delacroix's firm. Before that?" Wonwoo shrugged. "It's like she didn't exist. New identity, maybe. Witness protection. Or something else entirely."
"So we have a luxury heiress who built her own empire, a former spy playing business partner, and a ghost with a new identity." Jeonghan's smile widened. "This should be interesting."
"This should be profitable," Seungcheol corrected, though he had to admit his second-in-command had a point. "The deal is solid. The terms are fair. We negotiate, we sign, we expand into European markets. Simple."
The look Jeonghan gave him suggested he thought nothing about this would be simple.
"Car's downstairs," Wonwoo announced, checking his phone. "Their office is in Gangnam—the Delacroix Group's temporary Seoul headquarters. Fifteenth floor, private suite."
"They're making us come to them?" Joshua asked, surprised. Usually clients came to Celestial.
"Power move," Jeonghan noted. "Or a test."
"Or they're busy people who don't have time for corporate posturing," Wonwoo countered. "Some people actually believe in efficiency."
Seungcheol stood, buttoning his suit jacket. "Let's find out which one it is."
The Delacroix Group's temporary headquarters occupied the entire fifteenth floor of one of Gangnam's most prestigious buildings. The elevator opened directly into a reception area that managed to be both elegantly minimalist and obviously expensive—cream marble, strategic lighting, and what Seungcheol was fairly certain was an original Monet on the wall.
"Compensating for something?" Wonwoo murmured.
"That's a real Monet," Joshua said quietly. "Worth about forty million dollars."
"Definitely compensating."
A receptionist—immaculate, professional, probably trained in more than just answering phones—greeted them with a practiced smile. "Mr. Choi? Ms. Delacroix is expecting you. This way, please."
She led them down a hallway lined with art that probably cost more than most people's houses, past several closed doors, to a corner office with frosted glass walls. She knocked once, then opened the door.
"Mr. Choi and his associates, Ms. Delacroix."
"Thank you, Minji." The voice that responded was warm, rich with a slight accent—Italian underneath, smoothed by years of international business and careful cultivation.
Seungcheol stepped inside and found himself in an office that was somehow both professional and intimate. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Gangnam skyline, but the furniture was arranged to create conversation areas rather than emphasize corporate hierarchy. There was a negotiation table, yes, but also comfortable seating, bookshelves lined with what looked like actual books rather than props, and photographs that seemed personal rather than strategic.
And standing by the window, backlit by the morning sun, was Marie Delacroix.
The photos hadn't done her justice.
She turned as they entered, and Seungcheol felt the distinct sensation of being assessed and cataloged in the span of a heartbeat. She wore a white suit that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary, her dark hair falling in soft waves past her shoulders, and when she smiled—genuinely smiled, not the corporate version—it transformed her entire face.
"Mr. Choi," she said, crossing the space between them with a grace that suggested either dance training or something more dangerous. "Thank you for coming. I know it's unconventional to ask you to come to me, but I find I do my best work in my own space." She extended her hand. "Marie Delacroix."
Her handshake was firm and confident. He noted the calluses on her palm—shooting range, maybe, or martial arts. Not something you'd expect from a luxury consultant.
"Seungcheol Choi," he replied, then caught himself. "Though I suppose you already knew that."
"I did," she admitted with a hint of amusement. "But I appreciate the formal introduction nonetheless. It's the principle of the thing." She gestured to his companions. "Please, introduce me to your team."
"Yoon Jeonghan, my CFO and second-in-command."
Jeonghan stepped forward with his signature gentle smile, the one that made him look harmless right before he destroyed you in negotiations. "Ms. Delacroix. Your reputation precedes you."
"Does it?" She looked genuinely curious. "I do hope that's a compliment."
"It's a statement of fact," Jeonghan replied smoothly. "Though in this case, the facts are quite complimentary."
"Smooth," she said appreciatively. "I like that. Joshua Hong, yes? Director of International Relations?"
Joshua blinked, surprised she'd done her homework. "Yes, ma'am."
"Don't 'ma'am' me, I'm not that old yet." She laughed. "Your work on the Singapore expansion was brilliant. I used it as a case study for one of my clients."
Joshua's ears turned slightly pink. Seungcheol made a mental note—she'd researched them thoroughly, knew how to give specific compliments that would disarm and flatter. Dangerous.
"And you must be Wonwoo Jeon," she continued, turning to their CTO. "The tech genius who built Celestial's entire digital infrastructure from scratch."
Wonwoo, who rarely showed emotion, looked mildly impressed. "You did your homework."
"I always do." Her smile sharpened slightly. "I don't like surprises in business."
"Neither do we," Seungcheol said, and watched her eyes flick back to him, assessing.
"Then we should get along very well." She gestured to the seating area near the windows. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. My associates will join us in a moment—they're just finishing a call with our European office."
As if on cue, a door on the far side of the office opened, and two women entered.
The first was stunning in a way that literally made the air shift. Tall, with features that belonged on a magazine cover, dressed in a burgundy suit that somehow made her look both professional and devastatingly beautiful. The morning sunlight caught her hair, and for a moment, the room seemed to pause.
Joshua stopped mid-breath. Wonwoo's fingers froze over his tablet. Even Seungcheol, who prided himself on never being caught off guard, found himself understanding exactly why his team's background check had noted her as "memorable." She was the kind of beautiful that could stop traffic, start wars, make grown men forget their own names.
Attractive, he noted clinically, filing it away as relevant business information. The kind of attractive that would make negotiations interesting, especially with his full team. He could already predict Mingyu's reaction—the man would probably walk into a wall.
But it was her eyes—sharp, assessing, tracking every person and exit in the room with practiced ease—that marked her as far more than just a pretty face. Former intelligence, he thought. Definitely.
Beside him, Jeonghan's expression remained perfectly pleasant, but Seungcheol caught the slight tension in his jaw, the way his fingers tightened almost imperceptibly on his coffee cup.
"Gigi Park," Marie introduced, a hint of amusement in her voice—she'd clearly seen this reaction before. "My business partner and strategic director."
"Mr. Choi." Gigi's handshake was firm, her American accent crisp, her smile edged with something that might have been amusement at their obvious reactions. "I've heard a great deal about Celestial Enterprises."
"All good things, I hope," Jeonghan interjected smoothly, stepping forward with his practiced charm.
Their hands met, and Seungcheol watched something electric spark between them—not just attraction, but recognition. Two predators acknowledging each other across a watering hole. Two manipulators realizing they'd met their match.
"That depends," Gigi replied, her smile sharpening into something almost dangerous, "on your definition of good."
"I have a very flexible definition," Jeonghan said, his voice smooth as silk, his angelic smile perfectly in place.
"I'm sure you do." She held his gaze for a moment longer than necessary, something challenging flickering in her eyes. "Should be interesting to see it in action."
"Ms. Park," Joshua interjected, his usual diplomatic smoothness slightly strained, "it's a pleasure to meet you. Your work in European markets is impressive."
"Thank you, Mr. Hong." Gigi's smile softened fractionally. "I appreciate that."
"Stunning," Wonwoo muttered, so quietly that only Seungcheol heard him. Coming from their perpetually unflappable CTO, it was practically a declaration.
Seungcheol glanced at Jeonghan. His second-in-command's smile was still perfectly in place, but there was a tightness around his eyes that Seungcheol recognized—the look Jeonghan got when something was bothering him, but he was too stubborn to admit it.
Interesting, Seungcheol thought. Very interesting.
"I look forward to it." Jeonghan's smile never wavered, but Seungcheol could see the slight tension in his shoulders. His second-in-command had just been matched, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it.
"And this is Ella Ricci, my executive assistant," Marie continued, gesturing to the second woman.
Ella was a study in contrasts to her companions. Younger, softer somehow, with a sweet smile and an almost ditzy quality to the way she juggled her tablet and a stack of folders. But Seungcheol didn't miss the way her eyes had tracked every person in the room when she entered, or the careful distance she maintained that would give her room to move if needed.
"It's such an honor," Ella gushed, her English carrying a melodic Italian accent. "Celestial Enterprises is so impressive. And Mr. Choi, your reputation—Marie has told me so much!"
"All good things, I hope," Seungcheol echoed Jeonghan's earlier words with a slight smile.
"Oh yes! She says you're brilliant and strategic and—" Ella fumbled with her tablet, nearly dropping it. "Oh, clumsy me!"
Joshua caught it with smooth reflexes, offering it back with a gentle smile. "Careful. We wouldn't want anything broken before we've even started."
"You're so kind," Ella said gratefully, then switched to perfect Italian. "Grazie mille. Sei molto gentile."
"Prego," Joshua responded easily. "Il mio italiano non è perfetto, ma cerco."
"You speak Italian!" Ella's eyes widened with delight. "Oh, this is wonderful! How many languages do you speak?"
"Six," Joshua admitted.
"Six!" Ella looked at Marie. "Did you hear that? Six languages!"
"I heard," Marie said, her tone affectionate but amused. "Ella, why don't you prepare the presentation materials while we talk?"
"Of course!" Ella beamed, then switched back to Italian with Joshua. "Puoi aiutarmi? Alcuni di questi documenti sono pesanti."
"Certamente," Joshua replied, following her to a cabinet across the room.
Seungcheol watched the interaction with interest. Ella's "clumsiness" had allowed her to assess Joshua's reflexes and get him away from the main group. Her chattering had established her as harmless while simultaneously gathering information about their capabilities. Every movement was calculated to appear innocent while serving a purpose.
Very interesting.
"Please, sit," Marie invited, gesturing to the comfortable chairs arranged near the windows. "Can I offer you anything? Coffee, tea, water?"
"Coffee would be excellent," Seungcheol said.
"Espresso, if you have it," Jeonghan added.
"We're Italian," Gigi said dryly, moving to a sleek espresso machine in the corner—not the standard office model, but something that probably cost more than a used car. "Of course we have espresso. Mr. Jeon?"
"Just water, thanks," Wonwoo replied, already pulling out his tablet.
As Gigi prepared coffee with the efficiency of someone who'd done it a thousand times, Marie settled into a chair across from Seungcheol, crossing her legs elegantly. Jeonghan took the seat to his right, and Wonwoo claimed a spot where he could see the whole room—and, Seungcheol noted with amusement, where he had a clear view of Gigi at the espresso machine.
"So," Marie began, accepting an espresso cup from Gigi with a nod of thanks, "I appreciate you agreeing to this partnership discussion. I know Celestial could have its pick of European consulting firms."
Gigi delivered espresso to Jeonghan with a slight smile. He accepted it with his usual grace, but Seungcheol noticed the way his fingers tightened fractionally on the cup when Joshua commented quietly, "Ms. Park, that's an impressive espresso machine. Do you know much about Italian coffee culture?"
"I spent five years in Europe," Gigi replied smoothly. "You pick up a few things."
"She's being modest," Marie interjected. "Gigi is a certified barista. She could work at any cafe in Rome."
"Beautiful and talented," Wonwoo observed, his tone clinical but his meaning clear.
Jeonghan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Seungcheol filed that away for later teasing.
"And you could have your pick of Asian companies," Seungcheol countered. "Why us?"
"Direct. I like that." She leaned forward slightly, her expression growing more serious. "Your company has a reputation for integrity in an industry that often lacks it. You've built something sustainable, not just profitable. That matters to me more than you might think."
"Does it?" He studied her, looking for the angle, the hidden motivation.
"My family built their empire on tradition and legacy," she said carefully, something vulnerable flickering across her features. "Old ways, old rules, old expectations. But I believe in evolution. In finding new ways to honor the past while building something better for the future." She paused, her gaze intent. "The way you've modernized Celestial while maintaining its core values—that's not easy. Most people can't do both."
There was something in her tone, in the way she said "family empire" with the slightest edge, that suggested layers beneath layers. Seungcheol felt that familiar tug of curiosity, the same instinct that had kept him alive in both his worlds.
"You did your homework on us," he observed.
"Thoroughly." She took a sip of her espresso, and Seungcheol found himself momentarily distracted by the elegant movement. "I know about your expansion into Southeast Asia, your pivot to sustainable luxury markets, and your reputation for treating employees well even when it's not the profitable choice. I know you're someone who thinks long-term, not quarterly."
"That's publicly available information."
"Is it?" Her smile turned knowing. "Some of it, yes. But the way you restructured your supply chain to eliminate exploitative labor practices three years ago—that wasn't publicized. The fact that you personally fund education programs for your employees' children—that's not in your annual reports. The way you've quietly shut down competitors who engage in unethical practices—" She tilted her head. "That takes research."
Beside him, Jeonghan shifted almost imperceptibly. Seungcheol kept his expression neutral.
"You dig deep," he said.
"I like to know who I'm working with." Marie's gaze didn't waver. "And I think you're the same way. Which is why you're probably wondering why I really chose Celestial."
"The thought had crossed my mind."
"Because I need partners I can trust," she said simply. "And trust in this business is rare. You have a reputation for keeping your word, for protecting your people, for building something that lasts. That's what I need."
"And what exactly do you need it for?"
Marie's smile returned, but there was something sad in it. "To build something that will outlast me. To create a legacy that's mine, not just my family's name attached to someone else's empire."
Seungcheol understood that feeling more than she could know. The weight of building something meaningful while carrying a family name. The pressure to honor the past while creating a different future.
"Your strategic director is former intelligence," he said, changing tactics slightly.
"Yes." Marie didn't even blink. "Gigi worked in private security in Europe before joining my firm. Her background makes her excellent at assessing risk and reading people." She paused. "Is that a problem?"
"Should it be?"
"That depends on whether you have things you'd prefer she didn't see." Marie's smile was slight, knowing. "But then, every successful company has secrets, don't they?"
"Your assistant isn't really an assistant," Seungcheol countered.
"Ella?" Marie's tone was carefully neutral, but he caught the flicker of approval in her eyes. "What makes you say that?"
"The way she moves. The way she assessed the room when she entered. The fact that someone with her skill set wouldn't fumble a tablet unless she wanted to test Joshua's reflexes."
"You're observant."
"It's kept me alive this long."
Marie laughed—a real laugh, bright and unguarded. "Fair enough. Yes, Ella is more than she appears. She's been with me for eight years, and I trust her with my life. Literally."
The admission was startling in its honesty. Seungcheol found himself reassessing everything about this meeting. Marie wasn't playing the typical corporate games. She was laying cards on the table, testing to see if he'd do the same.
"You're different from what I expected," he said.
"How so?"
"Most consultants spend meetings telling me how great they are. You spent the first fifteen minutes proving you know exactly who I am and what I'm capable of. That's either confidence or strategy."
"Can't it be both?" Marie's smile widened. "I find games boring, Seungcheol. If we're going to work together, I'd rather we both know where we stand."
His name in her mouth sent an unexpected jolt through him. Professional, he reminded himself. This is professional.
"Even if where we stand is on uncertain ground?" he asked.
"Especially then." She leaned back in her chair, studying him with open curiosity. "Most men in your position would have pretended not to notice my associates' backgrounds, or would have gotten defensive about being read so easily. You just laid it out there. Asked directly."
"And you answered honestly. Mostly."
"Mostly," she agreed with a slight smile. "Some secrets take longer to share."
"I can respect that."
"Can you?" The question wasn't flirtatious, but it felt intimate somehow. "In my experience, men who run empires don't like not knowing everything."
"Then your experience has been with the wrong men."
Something flashed in her eyes—surprise, pleasure, something else he couldn't quite name. "Perhaps it has."
Across the room, Gigi appeared with fresh espresso. She set cups in front of Jeonghan and Seungcheol with practiced efficiency, and Joshua couldn't help but comment, "You really do make excellent coffee. That crema is perfect."
"Thank you," Gigi said, a genuine smile crossing her face—not the professional one, but something warmer.
"She's quite something," Joshua added to the group, his tone appreciative. "Skilled in so many areas."
Wonwoo nodded in agreement. "Elegant," he said simply, which, coming from him was practically poetry.
Jeonghan's expression remained pleasant, but Seungcheol caught the slight twitch near his eye, the way his fingers drummed once against his thigh before he forced them still. His second-in-command was being very carefully neutral about Gigi Park, which meant he was absolutely not neutral about her at all.
Gigi settled into a chair with her own cup, tablet balanced on her knee, seemingly oblivious to the effect she'd had on the room. Or perhaps not oblivious—there was something knowing in the glance she shot Jeonghan, something that suggested she was entirely aware of every reaction and finding it amusing.
"Shall we talk specifics?" she suggested, her tone professional but her eyes still sparking with that same challenging energy she'd directed at Jeonghan earlier.
For the next two hours, they worked through the partnership framework with intense focus. Marie was brilliant—anticipating objections, presenting data with clarity, pivoting when needed without appearing to retreat. Gigi interjected with strategic insights that proved her intelligence background had given her an uncanny ability to predict market movements.
"That's a fascinating analysis," Joshua said at one point, leaning forward with genuine interest. "The way you've mapped the consumer behavior patterns—it's quite brilliant."
"Ms. Park clearly has a gift for reading people," Wonwoo added, his tone dry but complimentary.
"I had excellent teachers," Gigi replied with a slight smile.
Jeonghan had been uncharacteristically quiet for the past twenty minutes, his contribution limited to pointed questions and strategic observations. Seungcheol noticed he was gripping his pen with slightly more force than necessary.
When Gigi presented a particularly complex market projection, complete with risk assessments that showcased her obvious expertise, even Seungcheol had to admit, "That's impressive work, Ms. Park. Your strategic thinking is exceptional."
"Truly exceptional," Joshua agreed warmly.
Jeonghan's pen made a small cracking sound. Everyone glanced at him.
"Apologies," he said smoothly, setting down the slightly damaged writing instrument. "These cheap pens. Continue, please."
That was not a cheap pen, Seungcheol thought with amusement. That was Jeonghan's favorite Montblanc.
Even Ella, when she stopped playing ditzy, contributed analysis that was sharp and incisive, her Italian accent somehow becoming more pronounced when she was making particularly cutting observations.
Jeonghan matched them point for point, his gentle demeanor hiding the steel underneath. Wonwoo flagged technical concerns with his usual bluntness. Joshua smoothed over potential friction points with diplomatic expertise, occasionally translating idioms between English and Italian when Ella got particularly animated.
And through it all, Seungcheol found himself watching Marie—the way she listened as much as she spoke, the way she made notes in the margins of documents, the way she smiled when someone made a good point even if it complicated her position. The way she absently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear when she was thinking, or how her eyes lit up when a solution clicked into place.
"Your leadership intensity is remarkable," she said quietly during a brief break while Ella refreshed their coffee. They'd moved to the window, looking out over Gangnam, and her voice was low enough that only he could hear. "It must be exhausting, maintaining that level of control over such a large organization."
"Someone has to keep the ship steady," he replied, thinking of his team back at Celestial—his full team, all twelve of them with their chaos and loyalty and complicated dynamics.
"Do they know how much you carry for them?" Her eyes searched his face. "The people who work for you?"
"They know enough."
"But not everything."
"No one can know everything," Seungcheol said. "Some burdens are meant to be carried alone."
"That sounds lonely."
"It is." The admission surprised him. He didn't usually share that kind of vulnerability, especially not with someone he'd just met.
But Marie just nodded, understanding in her eyes. "I know what that's like. Being the one everyone looks to, having to be strong even when you're not sure yourself. Having to make decisions that affect hundreds of people while knowing one wrong move could destroy everything you've built."
"Is that what it's like for you?" he asked. "Running your consulting firm?"
Something shadowed her expression. "Among other things."
Before he could press further, Gigi called them back to the table. "I have some questions about the Asian market penetration strategy."
The work resumed, but Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling that Marie had been about to say something important. Something that might explain the sadness he sometimes glimpsed behind her professional mask.
By the time they wrapped up—nearly four hours after they'd started—Seungcheol felt like he'd run a marathon. Marie had systematically charmed and challenged his entire team, dancing between warmth and steel with the grace of someone who'd been trained in both.
"We've made excellent progress," Marie said as they gathered materials. She glanced at her watch. "It's nearly two. Have you eaten?"
"Not since breakfast," Joshua admitted.
"There's a excellent place nearby—" Marie began.
"Actually," Seungcheol interrupted, an idea forming, "there's a restaurant I'd like to take you to. Tonight, if you're available. I want you to meet my full team—see what Celestial really is beyond just the four of us."
Marie's eyebrows rose slightly. "The full team?"
"All of them. My entire inner circle." He met her gaze steadily. "You've shown me yours. Fair's fair."
"That's quite an offer." Marie exchanged glances with Gigi and Ella. "We accept. Though I should warn you—Gigi gets more sarcastic with wine, and Ella becomes exponentially more Italian."
"My team includes someone who thinks he's a tiger, someone who will absolutely start a chair race down the hallway if not supervised, and someone who's been trying to hack your financial records since we sat down," Seungcheol replied.
"Hey," Wonwoo protested mildly.
"Am I wrong?"
"...No."
Marie laughed. "Then we should get along very well. Seven o'clock?"
"Seven," Seungcheol confirmed. "There's a private room, excellent food, wine list that would make even the most discerning sommelier weep with joy."
"You're very confident I have a sommelier," Marie teased.
"Don't you?"
"I do, actually. Paulo. He's very particular about his wines. He once made a grown man cry over a bottle of Barolo."
Seungcheol found himself smiling—really smiling, not his CEO mask. "I'll send a car."
"We'll meet you there," Marie countered immediately. "I like to know my own exits."
Smart woman, he thought. Always planning escape routes. He wondered again if that was just good business sense or something more.
"As you prefer," he said. "I'll text you the address."
They exchanged numbers, and Seungcheol was acutely aware that this small gesture felt more significant than it should. Professional contact information that somehow felt intimate.
As they moved toward the door, Ella suddenly pressed something into Joshua's hand. "My card," she said sweetly. "In case you need help with Italian translations. For business purposes, of course."
"She's shameless," Gigi murmured to Jeonghan as they passed. "Fair warning for tonight."
"Should I be warned about you as well?" Jeonghan asked, his voice light but his eyes intent.
"Absolutely." Gigi's smile was dangerous. "I'm the worst one."
Seungcheol watched Jeonghan's expression carefully. His second-in-command looked intrigued, challenged, and slightly off-balance—a combination he'd rarely seen on his friend's face.
At the elevator, Marie offered her hand to Seungcheol. "Thank you for coming today. And for the honest conversation."
"Thank you for the honesty," he replied. "Mostly."
"Mostly," she agreed, her eyes dancing. "I look forward to tonight, Seungcheol."
"Marie," he said, testing her name on his tongue.
Her expression softened. "Yes?"
"Tonight should be interesting."
"That's what your CFO said this morning, wasn't it?" She smiled. "I'm beginning to think that's a good thing."
Gigi appeared beside Marie, her presence somehow drawing everyone's attention again. "Looking forward to meeting the rest of your team, Mr. Choi. I'm sure they're as impressive as these three."
"I'm sure." Gigi's eyes flicked to Jeonghan with a hint of challenge. "See you tonight, Mr. Yoon."
"Ms. Park," Jeonghan replied, his smile angelic and his tone perfectly pleasant.
The elevator doors closed on them, and for a moment, the four men stood in the hallway in silence.
"So," Jeonghan said lightly as they walked back to their car, his voice carefully controlled, "that went well."
"It did."
"The deal, I mean. The deal went well. Very professional. Very business-focused. Excellent negotiations all around."
"Yes."
"Nothing at all to do with you want to," Gigi said knowingly. "Don't you?"
Marie looked back out the window, at the Seoul skyline, at the city that was supposed to be a temporary stop on her way to somewhere—anywhere—else. A place to hide, to build something new, to escape the weight of her family name and everything it represented.
She'd never expected to find someone who might actually understand.
"Maybe," she whispered again. "Maybe I do."
"Sarà un problema," Ella said quietly, her tone more serious now. "If your father finds out. If your family finds out you're interested in someone outside the organization."
"I know." Marie's reflection in the glass looked tired, the weight of her real life pressing down on her professional mask. "But tonight, just for tonight, I'm not La Principessa. I'm just Marie Delacroix, consultant. And maybe that's enough."
Gigi squeezed her shoulder. "For what it's worth, I think he's good for you. Even if his CFO is insufferable."
"You liked the CFO," Marie accused.
"I absolutely did not."
"You smiled at him. A real smile, not your professional one."
"I was being polite."
"You're never polite. You're sarcastic, you're sharp, you're challenging—but you're not polite."
Gigi opened her mouth to argue, then closed it. "He's infuriating."
"Which means you noticed him," Ella pointed out gleefully. "Oh, this is going to be fun. Both of you, falling for Korean men who have no idea what they're walking into."
"I am not falling," Marie protested.
"Neither am I," Gigi added.
"Bugiarde," Ella sang. "Liars, both of you. But that's fine. Tonight will be very, very interesting."
Marie couldn't argue with that. Tonight, she'd meet the rest of Seungcheol's team—the people he trusted enough to call his inner circle. She'd see the full picture of Celestial Enterprises and get a better sense of whether this partnership could work.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd figure out if Seungcheol Choi was someone she could trust with more than just business.
The thought terrified and excited her in equal measure.h the way you smiled—actually smiled, not your scary CEO smile—when she called you by your name."
"Jeonghan—"
"You're completely gone for her, aren't you?"
Seungcheol glared at him. Jeonghan just smiled serenely, examining his perfectly manicured nails.
"The Park woman is very attractive," Wonwoo observed from the backseat as their driver pulled into traffic. "Objectively speaking. Like, statistically, probably in the top percentile of human beauty."
"Is she?" Jeonghan's voice was carefully neutral. "I hadn't noticed."
"You spent ten minutes discussing market analysis with her," Joshua pointed out. "You definitely noticed."
"I was being professional."
"You were being something," Wonwoo muttered. "Also, she's remarkably intelligent. The strategic assessments she provided were genuinely impressive. Beautiful and brilliant—that's a rare combination."
"Fascinating," Jeonghan said flatly. "Thank you for that analysis, Wonwoo."
"Just making observations," Wonwoo replied innocently. "It's what you pay me for."
"I pay you for technology, not commentary on—" Jeonghan stopped himself.
"On what?" Seungcheol asked, fighting a smile.
"Nothing. Never mind."
"She seemed to like you," Joshua added helpfully. "Ms. Park, I mean. There was definitely something there."
"There was nothing there."
"That challenging look she gave you—"
"Was her being professionally engaged in the discussion."
"Right," Wonwoo said. "Professional. That's what we're calling it."
Jeonghan's jaw tightened. "Can we please focus on the actual business implications of this partnership?"
"Oh, we are," Seungcheol said, his smile widening. "I'm very focused on the implications. All of them."
Seungcheol's phone buzzed. A text from Marie: Looking forward to meeting the rest of your circus. Try not to let them scare us off before we sign the contracts.
He typed back: No promises. But they're mostly house-trained.
Her response was immediate: Mostly?
You'll see.
Another buzz. This time from an unknown number: This is Gigi. Marie gave me your number. Fair warning—if your team stares as much as your inner circle did, I'm charging an appearance fee. - GP
Seungcheol snorted. He showed the message to Jeonghan.
"She's..." Jeonghan paused, clearly searching for words. "Bold."
"You mean insufferable," Wonwoo supplied helpfully.
"I didn't say that."
"You were thinking it."
"I was thinking she's very confident."
"That's what insufferable people usually are," Joshua added with a smile.
Jeonghan's expression suggested he was regretting bringing any of them to the meeting. "Can we please discuss the actual contract terms?"
"Oh, we will," Seungcheol said, pocketing his phone. "Right after we discuss how you broke your favorite pen when Joshua complimented her strategic thinking."
"That was— the pen was— it was already damaged," Jeonghan sputtered, which was so unlike his usual smooth composure that Seungcheol couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Wonwoo said. "Both of you. Completely gone."
"I am not—" both Seungcheol and Jeonghan started at the same time, then stopped, glaring at each other.
Joshua was practically crying with suppressed laughter in the front seat.
Seungcheol leaned back in his seat, already mentally preparing for the chaos of introducing Marie to his full team. Mingyu would probably fall over himself trying to impress Ella. Soonyoung would inevitably say something about Gigi being a goddess. Seungkwan would have opinions. Many, many opinions.
And Jeonghan would have to endure seven more people commenting on Gigi Park's obvious beauty.
The thought made Seungcheol smile.
"What?" Jeonghan demanded, catching the expression.
"Nothing," Seungcheol replied innocently. "Just thinking about tonight. About how the rest of the team will react to our new partners."
"Professionally, I'm sure."
"Oh yes. Very professionally. I'm sure Soonyoung will be completely restrained in his observations."
Jeonghan's expression suggested he knew exactly what was coming and was already dreading it. "If anyone starts—"
"Starts what? Noticing that Ms. Park is exceptionally attractive? I think that ship has sailed."
"I hate all of you," Jeonghan muttered.
"No, you don't," Joshua said cheerfully. "You love us. That's why you're so annoyed—because you can't even be properly irritated without us calling you out on it."
"I'm going to reassign all of you to the Busan office."
"We don't have a Busan office," Wonwoo pointed out.
"I'll open one. Just to send you there."
The car filled with laughter, and despite himself, despite the upcoming chaos and the secrets he could sense lurking beneath Marie's polished surface, Seungcheol found himself looking forward to tonight.
It was going to be a disaster.
He couldn't wait.
Back in the Gangnam office, Marie stood by the window, watching the Celestial Enterprises car disappear into traffic.
"He's handsome," Ella said, coming to stand beside her, dropping the ditzy act now that they were alone. Her voice was sharper, more precise. "And smart. I like him."
"He's perceptive," Gigi added from where she was closing her laptop, her professional mask also slipping away. "Figured out our backgrounds in under an hour. Didn't even blink."
"Is that a problem?" Marie asked, though she knew the answer.
"That depends." Gigi came to join them at the window. "Are we going to tell him the rest? The part about who you really are? About what we're really running from?"
Marie was quiet for a long moment, thinking about Seungcheol's direct questions, his lack of pretense, the way he'd looked at her like he was seeing her—really seeing her—for the first time in years.
"Not yet," she said finally. "Let's see how dinner goes first. Let's see if he and his team are really as trustworthy as they appear."
"And if he digs deeper?" Ella asked, switching to Italian now. "Se il suo genio tecnologico trova quello che stai nascondendo?"
"Then we'll deal with it." Marie turned away from the window. "Ma qualcosa mi dice che Seungcheol Choi ha i suoi segreti. Forse più di quanto si renda conto che posso vedere."
"Ti piace," Gigi observed, also switching to Italian. "You like him."
Marie didn't answer immediately. She thought about the way Seungcheol had admitted to loneliness, the way he'd understood what she meant about carrying burdens alone. The way he'd smiled—really smiled—when she'd teased him about his sommelier.
"Maybe," she admitted softly in English. "Maybe I do."
"La principessa è innamorata," Ella teased, her voice sing-song.
"I am not in love," Marie protested. "I barely know him."
"Bugiarde," Ella sang. "Liars, both of you. But that's fine. Tonight will be very, very interesting."
Marie couldn't argue with that. Tonight, she'd meet the rest of Seungcheol's team—the people he trusted enough to call his inner circle. She'd see the full picture of Celestial Enterprises, get a better sense of whether this partnership could work.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd figure out if Seungcheol Choi was someone she could trust with more than just business.
The thought terrified and excited her in equal measure.
Author: bratzkoo
Pairing: hoshi x reader (soonyoungiiie~)
Genre: fluff, angst, crack, dont take hoshi and woozi away from me.
Rating: PG-13
Note: slow updates, still haven't figure out the outline and plot. i just wanted to finish this before the tiger serves and slay in his military. written in episode vibes, so uhm sorry?
IT WILL BE CRINGEY AND I WILL NOT APOLOGIZE !
summary: After his bandmate and his now gf's success in WE GOT MARRIED, our resident horanghae lover gets his turn. But what if the girl end up being the person that broke his heart before he debuted. Will he get the same ending as his bandmate?
taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): - @sumzysworld
requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist
series masterlist
SETTING: A neutral meeting room at MBC studios, designed to look like a comfortable café. Two cameras are positioned to capture both individual reactions and the couple's interaction. The PD sits off to the side with a clipboard.
TIME: 2:00 PM on a Tuesday afternoon
Hoshi bounces into the room at 1:50 PM, ten minutes early as always. He's wearing a casual but stylish outfit—black jeans, a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and his signature bright smile. His hair is styled in soft waves, and he's carrying a small bouquet of sunflowers. There's a small tiger keychain hanging from his phone case that's visible in his back pocket.Hoshi bowed and waved to the camera, “Annyeonghaseyo! I’m Seventeen’s Hoshi. I’m here for my first meeting with my…wife?” he laughed nervously, “This is strange. I brought flowers because my eomma always said to bring flowers when meeting someone important.”
He made his horanghae claws with his hands, “Horanghae! I hope she likes tigers… wait, should I not lead with the tiger thing? What is she’s scared of tigers?”
He sits down, fidgeting with the flowers and checking his phone. His leg bounces under the table—a nervous habit he's had since trainee days.
"I'm really nervous, actually. After seeing how well things worked out for Seokmin-hyung... there's pressure, you know? What if we don't have chemistry? What if she doesn't like tigers?" he grinned and made the horanghae sign again. "Actually, not kidding about the tigers. That might be a dealbreaker. I mean, I'm literally a tiger! Horanghae!" "Okay, maybe I should tone down the tiger thing for the first meeting..."
He practices different ways to introduce himself, muttering under his breath
At exactly 2:00 PM, Y/N enters the room. She's dressed in a chic black midi dress with white sneakers, her hair in a sleek ponytail. She carries herself with the confident grace of someone used to being watched, but there's something in her posture that seems slightly more tense than usual.
The moment she sees Hoshi, she stops mid-step. Her eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and her hand instinctively moves to her collarbone—a nervous habit she developed years ago. For a split second, her composed mask slips.
"Oh..." she says, barely audible.
Hoshi looks up from his flowers and freezes. The bright smile falters for just a moment as something flickers across his face—confusion, recognition, something he can't quite place. His "10:10" eyes narrow slightly as he studies her face.
"You're... you're my..." Hoshi stands up too quickly, forgetting about the flowers.
They stare at each other for a beat too long. The room feels charged with an energy that neither the cameras nor the production team can quite understand.
Y/N recovers first, her professional training kicking in. She forces a bright smile and steps forward, bowing politely."Annyeonghaseyo! I'm Y/N from Xenon. It's nice to meet you, Hoshi-ssi."
Her voice is steady, but there's something in her tone—too formal, too careful. She extends her hand for a handshake rather than going for the casual familiarity that might be expected.
Hoshi blinks, the moment of whatever-that-was passing. He grins widely and takes her hand, but doesn't let go immediately.
"Annyeonghaseyo! I'm Hoshi from SEVENTEEN! These are for you." he offered the sunflowers while still holding her hand. "You seem... familiar somehow. Have we met before? Also, horanghae!" (makes a quick tiger claw gesture with his free hand)
Y/N's breath catches slightly—but not just from the recognition. She stares at his horanghae gesture, and for a moment, there's something almost fond in her expression.
"Thank you, they're beautiful. And no, I don't think we've met officially. Though I've seen SEVENTEEN's performances, of course. You're an incredible dancer." she paused and made the horanghae sign. "And... horanghae to you too."
Hoshi's eyes widen in surprise and delight.
"You know horanghae?! Wait, you're not just saying that to be polite, are you? Do you actually like tigers?" he said too excitedly, "You too! I mean, I've watched Xenon's stages. Your dance break in “Maybe it is” was insane. The way you hit that final pose..." he has to demonstrate the move. "I tried to learn it but could never get the timing right."
Y/N's eyes widen. That choreography was something she'd developed during her trainee days and had incorporated into the song. Very few people would have noticed the specific technique.
Y/N's expression shifts slightly—there's something almost melancholic about her smile now.
"I... I've always found tigers fascinating. They're powerful but also... lonely creatures, aren't they? Always having to be strong."
Hoshi stops mid-bounce, struck by her words. It's such a specific way to describe tigers, and it hits deeper than his usual playful tiger persona.
"That's... that's exactly right. Most people just think tigers are fierce, but they're actually... they're complex. They can be playful and protective and vulnerable all at once."
Y/N nods, her fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the sunflower petals.
"Someone once told me that tigers are the most beautiful when they're just being themselves. Not performing, not roaring for others. Just... existing."
The room falls silent. Hoshi stares at her, something flickering in his memory.
"Did someone... did someone you know say that?"
Y/N realized she said too much. "I just... I read it somewhere. Online probably."
Sure! Here's your beautifully written scene restructured into a flowing, seamless narrative with natural dialogue pacing and emotional buildup, preserving all the nuances and emotional depth:
The PD gestures for them to sit, and they settle across from each other at a small table. A vase of sunflowers sits between them like a quiet barrier.
PD (off-camera): "So, first impressions?"
Hoshi scratches the back of his neck, a shy smile tugging at his lips.
“She’s… not what I expected,” he says. “I mean, she’s beautiful, obviously. But there’s something about her that feels… comfortable? Like I don’t have to try so hard to be entertaining.”
Without realizing it, he does the horanghae gesture again.
“And she didn’t run away when I did horanghae!”
Across from him, Y/N smiles, her voice soft but steady.
“He’s exactly what I expected from watching him on variety shows—energetic, sincere, very expressive.” She pauses. “But also… his tiger thing isn’t just a concept, is it? It’s really part of who he is.”
Hoshi’s eyes light up.
“She gets it!” he exclaims, leaning forward. “You actually get the tiger thing! Do you know how rare that is?”
He laughs and finally stops bouncing.
“Sorry,” he says, sheepishly. “I do that when I’m nervous. Or excited. Or thinking. Actually, I do it a lot. The tiger thing too, apparently.” He mimics tiger claws with his hands. “My members say I’m 96% tiger, 4% human.”
Y/N chuckles.
“The tiger gestures are endearing. They’re very... you. Natural.”
Hoshi pauses mid-gesture, visibly touched.
“You really think so? Some people think it’s too much…”
“The right person would never think you’re too much,” she replies. “They’d love your tiger side especially.”
A beat of silence falls between them. Hoshi’s expression softens.
“That’s… really nice to hear. Thank you.”
PD: “Any concerns about the show?”
Y/N shifts slightly in her seat.
“Just… I hope we can be natural with each other. Sometimes on camera, people try too hard to create moments instead of just letting them happen.”
“Exactly!” Hoshi nods, animated again. “I want us to be real with each other. Life’s too short for pretense, you know?”
At those words, Y/N's expression flickers. Life’s too short—he used to say that during their trainee days.
PD: “Before we wrap up, how about a little dance challenge? Just to break the ice.”
Their eyes meet, immediately brightening.
“What kind of challenge?” Hoshi asks.
“Teach each other a move from your groups,” the PD explains. “See how quickly you can learn it.”
Y/N grins. “I’ll teach you the ‘Maybe It Is’ move you mentioned.”
“And I’ll teach you the killing part from ‘God of Music.’”
They move to the center of the room. Y/N demonstrates her move slowly. Hoshi watches intently and mirrors her movement—about 80% correct, but his hand placement is slightly off.
“Here, let me…” she steps closer, gently adjusting his arm. “Your hand should be more… like this.”
The moment she touches him, both freeze. The gesture is familiar. Too familiar. Hoshi looks at her like he’s remembering something.
“You’re a really good teacher,” he murmurs. “Natural. Like you’ve done this before.”
“I just… I’m good at reading movement,” Y/N says quickly, stepping back.
Hoshi nods slowly, but something in his expression says he’s not convinced.
“My turn,” he says. “This move is all about attitude, so you have to really commit.”
He demonstrates the move, and Y/N picks it up almost instantly—too perfectly. She nails the style, flair, even his exact rhythm, like she’s seen him do it a hundred times.
“Wow,” Hoshi breathes. “You got that really fast. Are you sure you haven’t learned this before?”
“I just… I watch a lot of dance videos. For research,” she replies, flustered.
They stand there for a moment, catching their breath, hearts racing—not just from dancing.
PD: “That’s a wrap for today! You’ll see each other again next week for your first official date.”
They bow to the production crew and begin gathering their things. As they reach the door, Hoshi hesitates.
“Y/N-ssi…” he calls out. She turns slightly.
“This might sound weird, but… do you ever feel like you’ve lived a moment before? Like déjà vu but… stronger?”
Y/N’s fingers tighten on her bag strap.
“Sometimes,” she answers softly. “Usually when I’m dancing. Why?”
“No reason. Just… today felt like that. Like I’ve danced with you before.”
They hold each other’s gaze. Y/N seems like she’s about to say something, but then thinks better of it.
“I’ll see you next week, Hoshi-ssi.”
“See you next week… Y/N-ssi.”
She turns to leave. But under his breath, Hoshi mutters, almost unconsciously—
“…See you next week… my tiger…”
He blinks, confused. Why did I say that?
“Wait! Y/N-ssi!” he calls out louder. “Horanghae!”
Y/N freezes at the whispered words, hand flying to her mouth. She turns back slowly, eyes shimmering.
“Horanghae, Hoshi-ssi,” she says softly.
She makes a small tiger claw gesture—not exaggerated like on TV, but soft, intimate. Then she quickly hurries away.
Hoshi stands there, stunned, pressing his hand over his chest.
“…My tiger?” he whispers. “Why did I… where did that come from?”
-
HOSHI (in interview): "She's... there's something about her. I felt like I knew her immediately, which is crazy because we just met. But when we were dancing together, it felt like muscle memory. Like we'd done this dance a hundred times before." (makes unconscious tiger gesture) "And the way she responded to horanghae... it wasn't just politeness. She understood it. She understood me. That never happens." (pauses, confused) "I called her 'my tiger' when she was leaving. I don't know why I said that. It just... came out."
Y/N (in interview): "He's exactly like I remembered— I mean, like I expected. From watching him on TV." (catches herself) "The tiger thing... I thought it might be overwhelming, but it's actually... it's beautiful. The way he lights up when he talks about tigers, the way he sees the world through that lens... it's pure." (voice gets quieter) "Someone once told me that tigers are most beautiful when they're just being themselves. I think... I think he's the most beautiful tiger I've ever seen."
FINAL SHOT: The empty meeting room, sunflowers still on the table, two empty chairs that somehow seem to be waiting for their return.
