vanilladollette

[vanilladollette]

Pip Fitz-Amobi

ROMANTIC

Love, Eventually

[vanilladollette]

Hi! Could u do a jaejun x platonic daughter!reader, where they both mock and insult eachother often, but they both enjoy it and find the banter fun?

Thanks !!

- Jae-Joon and platonic daughter!reader, who enjoy mocking and insulting eachother

Your relationship with Jae-joon is 40% eye rolls, 30% sarcastic jabs, 20% dramatic roasts, and 10% actual affection—though neither of you would ever admit that last part out loud.

Jae-joon picks you up from school and the first thing he says is, “Did your face always look like that, or did something tragic happen today?”

You: “Yeah, I was cursed at birth. What’s your excuse?”

He likes to call you “brat” or “gremlin,” especially when you’re being extra sassy. You, in turn, call him “midlife crisis on legs” or “Korean Patrick Bateman.”

You two have a daily ritual of trading sarcastic comments over breakfast.

Him: “You planning to wear that out in public?”

You: “No, I was hoping to borrow one of your tacky polo shirts for maximum humiliation.”

If someone overheard your conversations, they’d think you hate each other. But you both live for the banter. It’s basically your love language.

He’ll proudly insult you in front of his employees like, “This is my daughter. Unfortunately, she inherited my looks but none of my charm.”

You immediately shoot back: “That’s a blessing. One more ounce of your ego and I’d need therapy.”

He’s weirdly competitive about comebacks. If you manage to roast him so good he has no reply, he’ll silently nod in respect like, “Touché.”

Jae-joon spoils you more than he’d admit. You’ll say things like, “I need a new phone. Mine's lagging like your common sense,” and somehow a new phone shows up the next day.

On the rare occasion you say something genuine like, “Thanks, Dad,” he’ll go awkward and say, “Ew, get out. Be mean again, I liked you better that way.”

When things get rough emotionally, the banter doesn’t stop—it just softens.

“You okay?”

“Define ‘okay’ without sounding like a motivational poster.”

“So, no. Got it.”

Underneath all the teasing, he’s fiercely protective. You’re his pride, even if he expresses it by calling you “menace” while buying you designer sneakers.

[vanilladollette]

hiiii!! saw your post for the agggtm requests thing and i wanted to request pip x trans male reader ♪(´▽｀) - something cute and fluffy, like their meeting and getting together or something like that C: love to see what you can come up with <3

Love, Eventually

Pairing: Pip Fitz-Amobi x Trans! Male Reader

Summary: A quiet library study partnership between you and Pip blossoms into a sweet, supportive romance filled with shared laughter and color-coded notes.

Warnings: none . . . ?

Author's note: I don't think this turned out well :⁠-⁠\

The library at Kilton Grammar was quiet, save for the scratch of pens and the occasional hum of a printer. You sat at your usual corner table, textbooks open like wings, a rainbow of highlighters scattered across the surface. Today’s focus: biology. Or at least, it was supposed to be.

Your brain was somewhere between mitochondria and “why does this diagram look like a smiling potato” when a soft cough pulled your attention.

Standing a little awkwardly at the edge of the table was Pip Fitz-Amobi—tight ponytail, slight frown like she was solving a puzzle even when she wasn’t, and a tote bag crammed full of notebooks.

“Hi,” she said, voice kind but slightly rushed. “You’re Y/N, right? Mrs. Chapman said you might be able to help me catch up on some bio notes. She said you were one of the best.”

Your cheeks warmed. You weren’t used to compliments, especially not from someone like Pip, who practically radiated capability. “Uh, yeah. Sure. Take a seat.”

Pip smiled, pulling out the chair opposite you. As she unpacked her things, you tried not to think about how nice her handwriting looked in the margin of her folder—or how your stomach fluttered a bit when she looked up to meet your eyes.

“So,” you began, clicking your green highlighter, “what part are you stuck on?”

She groaned playfully, flopping a page open. “Where do I begin?”

You leaned in, a small grin tugging at your lips. “Let’s start with photosynthesis and work our way up to the horror of cell respiration.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” she said, laughing.

“Only if you forget to color-code it.”

Over the next few weeks, study sessions became a regular thing.

Every Tuesday and Thursday after class, you’d find yourselves tucked into your library nook. Sometimes you brought snacks. Pip brought sarcasm and murder trivia.

What started as biology notes quickly expanded—history quiz prep, debates about Shakespeare, and your long-standing disagreement on whether cereal was soup.

She made you laugh in a way that caught you off guard, and not just with her surprisingly terrible impressions of your science teacher.

You noticed the little things too: how she took her tea with exactly one and a half sugars, how she hummed softly when she concentrated, and how she always, always made sure you were comfortable. She never called attention to it. Just subtle, quiet respect that felt like safety.

As winter crept in and the sun dipped earlier each day, you found yourself looking forward to those study sessions for more than just academics.

There was something comforting about sharing a table with Pip. About how she always remembered what snacks you liked. About how she never stumbled on your name or pronouns—not once—and how, if someone else did, she handled it so smoothly that you didn’t have to.

One particularly cold afternoon, you walked in to find her already waiting, two steaming takeaway cups on the table.

“Got you a hot chocolate,” she said, nudging it toward you with a slight smile. “Thought you might need it today.”

You wrapped your hands around the cup, grateful for the warmth. “You’re psychic.”

She grinned. “Just observant.”

Later, as you both buried yourselves in chemistry, she leaned over your notebook.

“You always make these little doodles next to the formulas,” she said, smiling. “Like, tiny smiley atoms. It’s cute.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “I—what—no, they’re just visual aids!”

“Sure they are,” Pip said, laughing.

But she looked at them a little longer than necessary before going back to her notes.

The week before winter break was a blur of stress and half-slept nights. Everyone was frantically trying to wrap up assignments, submit essays, and mentally escape the bitter cold.

You were tucked in your usual spot with Pip, both of you slightly more chaotic than usual. Your table looked like a paper explosion: notebooks, pens, crumpled wrappers from those cursed but addictive vending machine cookies.

Pip was rereading a section in the textbook when she misread “organism” in a very unfortunate way.

You snorted. “Did you just say—”

“Don’t,” she groaned, face bright red as she buried it in her hands. “I hate everything.”

You were laughing too hard to stop. “That’s… incredible.”

She peeked through her fingers, mock-glowering at you. “One day, I’m going to misread something not embarrassing, and you’ll be sorry.”

“Promise?”

She flicked a highlighter cap at you.

The laughter settled into soft giggles, and Pip took a sip of her hot chocolate, now only lukewarm. She set it down, then suddenly looked more serious than she had all week.

“Y/N?”

You looked up from your textbook. “Yeah?”

“Do you maybe wanna—” She paused, fiddling with her pen cap. “I mean, I know we’re both nerds and all, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go out sometime? Like… not just to study. More like, um… a date?”

You froze. Not because you were upset. Not even close.

Your heart thudded once, hard. Then again. And again.

You opened your mouth, closed it, then finally managed, “I thought you'd never ask.”

Pip’s eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled, all nerves fading in a second. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a very enthusiastic yes,” you said, grinning so wide your cheeks hurt. “But only if you bring your highlighters.”

“Oh, obviously,” she said. “What’s a date without color-coded notes?”

A few days later, your first official non-study date was something small. Casual. Cozy.

You met at a little café tucked into the corner of the high street—fairy lights strung across the windows, a chalkboard menu that changed daily, and tables barely big enough for two.

Pip arrived wearing a scarf that matched her eyes, a tote bag over her shoulder, and a stack of pastel highlighters peeking out the top.

“Told you I’d bring them,” she said, a little smug.

You laughed. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

As you talked, the nerves melted away. You already knew how to be around each other. The only difference now was the way your knees brushed under the table and neither of you moved away. The way her gaze lingered on you a little longer. The way your hands inched closer and closer until her pinky brushed yours—and stayed there.

“I was so scared you didn’t feel the same,” she admitted, her voice soft beneath the buzz of the café.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been doodling hearts in the margins of my chem notes for a month.”

“Wait, that’s what those were?” Pip teased. “I thought they were abstract mitochondria.”

You both laughed, and just like that, something settled between you—something warm and easy and so, so real.

Later, as she walked you to the bus stop, your hands brushed again. You didn’t pull away.

“I’m really glad Mrs. Chapman told me to ask you for help,” Pip said quietly.

You smiled. “I’m really glad you listened.”

She hesitated, then gently reached for your hand. “So… second date? After break?”

“Only if it includes more bio puns.”

Pip groaned. “I should’ve known that was a dealbreaker.”

And you stood there, fingers intertwined in the cold, your breath visible in the air—and everything felt light.

[vanilladollette]

A Good Girl's Guide To Murder

Soooo I kinda want to write for A Good Girl's Guide To Murder.

I don't know which characters I will write for, but I guess I will decide once people send in their requests.

[vanilladollette]

helloo!

do u think u can a make a head canon on how the glory characters would react or do when they found out that the reader has a terminal illness and only has a few months left to live?? to make it more dramatic they're involve with the reader and could u also make them the aftermath when reader died?? thank you:D

- The Glory characters with terminal ill reader

Warnings: Grief, huge angst, details of being sick and death.

Author's note: none . . . ?

Moon Dong-eun

When she finds out:

Immediately goes into “fix it” mode—researching treatments, clinical trials, even illegal methods.

Tries to stay calm for your sake, but you catch her staring at you with watery eyes when she thinks you’re asleep.

Becomes incredibly protective, shielding you from stress or anyone who might upset you.

Starts writing letters to you, but never gives them. She’s terrified of saying goodbye.

After your death:

Withdraws from everyone. She disappears from the public eye.

Keeps your favorite book by her bedside and rereads it constantly.

Visits your grave in the rain, sitting in silence for hours.

Uses the grief to drive herself harder, never letting your memory fade into vengeance.

Park Yeon-jin

When she finds out:

At first, she refuses to believe it, thinking it’s a manipulation or a cruel joke.

When the truth hits, she becomes frantic—offering money, favors, flying in specialists.

Tells you that you can’t leave her, because she doesn’t know how to be alone.

Shows real vulnerability for the first time, pleading, “Please don’t leave me.”

After your death:

Shuts down emotionally. Cold, sharp, and bitter toward everyone.

Keeps your photo on her vanity but never speaks your name again.

Occasionally breaks down alone in the shower or in her car, punching the steering wheel in rage.

Secretly wears the ring or accessory you gave her under her clothes every day.

Lee Sa-ra

When she finds out:

Laughs nervously at first, high out of her mind, thinking you’re joking.

When reality hits, she crashes hard—quits drugs (briefly) to be present for you.

Tries to get as much paintings of you as she can—portraits, abstract pieces, dream-like scenes

Sleeps beside your hospital bed.

After your death:

Spirals back into addiction, haunted by your memory.

Talks to you while high, believing you’re still with her.

Keeps one of your scarves tied around her wrist like a security blanket.

Jeon Jae-joon

When he finds out:

Immediately denies it, yelling at the doctors, accusing them of lying.

Rages behind closed doors but softens completely when he’s with you.

Spends a fortune trying to prolong your life, even bribing shady clinics.

Holds you like you’re porcelain, constantly saying, “Don’t go. I’ll give you anything.”

After your death:

Becomes colder, more dangerous—angrier at the world.

Keeps your perfume bottle in his drawer and wears your ring on a chain.

Stops dating entirely, saying no one compares to you.

Can’t sleep in the bed you two shared—starts sleeping on the couch, or not at all.

Choi Hye-jeong

When she finds out:

Falls apart immediately, crying hysterically, asking why this is happening to you and not her.

Tries to be everything you need—supportive, cheerful, doting—while clearly cracking inside.

Plans a “bucket list” of silly and sweet things to do together before time runs out.

Constantly says, “I love you” like it’s a shield against fate.

After your death:

Posts tributes on social media constantly, sometimes talking to you in the captions.

Keeps every message, photo, and voicemail. Plays your voice at night when she can’t sleep.

Wears your favorite clothes, mimics your mannerisms unconsciously.

Tries to live like you’d want her to, but often stares blankly into space for hours.

Son Myeong-oh

When he finds out:

Goes silent. Doesn’t react at first—like the news didn’t compute.

Then becomes impulsive—starting fights, picking up dangerous gigs, acting like nothing matters.

Only softens when you cry. That’s when he breaks, holding you like he’ll break too.

Sleeps by your hospital bed, holding your hand tightly even when you’re unconscious.

After your death:

Vanishes for weeks. No calls. No trace.

Returns with hollow eyes, thinner, and quieter.

Gets your name tattooed on his chest or over his heart.

Keeps your sweater. Never washes it. Sleeps with it every night.

Joo Yeo-jeong

When he finds out:

Takes it the hardest emotionally but hides it well in front of you.

Stays by your side for every appointment, every sleepless night, holding your hand.

Tries to make you laugh even when his voice trembles.

Tells you he’d trade places with you if he could, every single day.

After your death:

Becomes a shell of himself—still gentle, but somber.

Starts volunteering at the hospice center where you passed, comforting others in your name.

Writes letters to you weekly and leaves them at your grave.

Keeps your stethoscope (if applicable) or something small and meaningful in his pocket.

Ha Do-yeong

When he finds out:

Tries to stay rational. Quietly hires the best specialists and makes arrangements.

Doesn’t show emotion until you ask him if he’s scared—then he breaks, just once, in private.

Brings you flowers daily. Holds your hand like you’re already fading.

Tells you you’ve changed him, that he never knew love until you.

After your death:

Withdraws from his company temporarily.

Keeps your photo on his desk and looks at it before every decision.

Reads your favorite book to Ye-sol and says, “They loved this one too.”

Never takes off the ring or bracelet you gave him. Still sets a seat for you at dinner sometimes.

[vanilladollette]

hii can you make a doc or a short fic where everyone is a yandere for reader, but reader is a student council president which makes them a little hard to spend time with reader together. also the reason why yeonjin and the others bullies dong-eun is bc they knows that reader will always come to the gym to help dong-run and thats one of a way that they could get reader's attention

All I Want Is You

Pairing: Yandere Bullies x Student Council Fem Reader

Summary: Desperate for your attention, Yeon-jin and her friends turned to tormenting Dong-eun, finding twisted satisfaction in the fleeting moments when your anger and concern finally focused on them, even if only briefly.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning: Yandere behavior, bullying.

Author's note: The point of view switches between reader's pov and the bullies. I'm not sure if it will be easy to tell.

When you're involved in something as demanding as Student Council, you quickly realize how much of your time and energy it consumes. It is the one thing often requires you to prioritize meetings, events, and responsibilities over your personal life. You can’t just show up and expect things to run smoothly. Behind every successful school event, every well-organized fundraiser, and every decision made for the student body, there are countless hours of planning, discussions, problem-solving, and sometimes even conflict resolution.

Despite how time-consuming it is, you can’t deny that you enjoy being a part of it. There’s something fulfilling about knowing you’re involved in shaping the student experience, that your voice has influence, and that the work you’re doing is making a difference—even if it's behind the scenes. You get to be the bridge between students and faculty, the organizer of spirit weeks, the one helping to coordinate dances, sports events, and school-wide initiatives. It’s exciting, energizing, and—at times—completely overwhelming.

Your days start early and end late. Between balancing your academic workload and your responsibilities on the council, you barely have time to catch your breath. Lunch breaks turn into planning sessions, and free periods are often filled with committee meetings or catching up on emails. Weekends, once reserved for rest or hanging out with friends, are now used for setting up events, designing posters, or running errands for upcoming activities. There are moments when it feels like you’re running on autopilot, just trying to get through everything on your to-do list.

But even in those exhausting moments, there’s a sense of pride that comes with being part of something bigger than yourself. You learn how to lead, how to listen, how to work with people who see things differently than you do. You discover strengths you didn’t know you had—like staying calm under pressure, speaking confidently in front of a crowd, or handling last-minute changes with a cool head. The growth is constant, and the lessons you learn often extend far beyond the school walls.

Still, the pressure can be intense. There are times when you feel like you’re missing out—on spontaneous plans with friends, on quiet evenings at home, on simple things like taking a nap or binge-watching your favorite show. There’s always something demanding your attention, and time for yourself becomes rare and precious.

But at the end of the day, you remind yourself why you joined in the first place. Because you care. Because you wanted to be involved. Because you believed you could make a difference—and in many ways, you already have. And even though the work is never-ending and the pace rarely slows down, there’s a kind of joy that comes with the chaos. A sense of purpose. And for now, that’s enough to keep you going.

Student Council.

That was the only thing standing between you and them, the single obligation that kept your time stretched thin and your schedule packed. While they lingered in the hallway waiting for lunch to start, or strolled through campus carefree after classes ended, you were buried in meeting minutes, event planning, and chasing down teachers for approvals. Student council wasn’t just an after-school activity—it was practically your whole life.

And they noticed. How could they not? You were always there but never really with them. A smile in passing, a wave across the courtyard, a quick apology for missing another hangout. They said they understood, but sometimes you caught the flicker of disappointment in their eyes.

They never joined student council. Why would they?. It demanded too much of your time, and they didn’t want to lose themselves in it the way you had. They didn’t have the patience for long debates or the interest in school functions. They wanted to spend time with you, not become another reason you were too busy.

Still, sometimes they wondered. If being a part of it meant being closer to you, should they try? Could they survive the early morning meetings and late-night prep just to steal a few more hours at your side?

But they never asked. And you never offered.

So you remained on separate paths—yours paved with duty and theirs with longing. The space between you filled with unspoken feelings and missed chances, all because of student council.

And yet, despite it all, they always waited—just in case you had five minutes to spare.

Despite it sounding easier said than done, it was not easy to grab your attention when so many other people demanded it too. You were always surrounded—by classmates needing help with assignments, teachers asking for updates on school events, and council members scrambling for decisions only you could make. Your name echoed constantly in the hallways, followed by a request, a question, or a plea. You were everywhere, yet never still long enough for anyone to truly reach you.

And yet, somehow, you always seemed to have time for Moon Dong-eun.

It didn’t matter what you were doing—reviewing budgets, setting up decorations, or speaking with the principal. The moment she appeared, your attention shifted as if the world itself paused to make room for her. The subtle softening of your expression when she spoke, the way you leaned in just slightly closer, how you always managed to smile despite your exhaustion—it didn’t go unnoticed.

They saw it all.

They saw how you’d brush off exhaustion for her. How your patience stretched longer, your tone turned gentler. You didn’t treat her like just another person pulling at your time. She wasn’t another obligation. She was something else—something different. And that hurt more than they cared to admit.

Because they had been trying. Trying to catch your eye, to be part of your day in more than passing moments. They offered to help, stayed late to support you, found excuses to linger after meetings. But none of it seemed to matter. Your gaze always wandered past them, searching for someone else—her.

They told themselves it was jealousy. That it was childish to want your attention when you were clearly busy. They weren’t entitled to your time. They knew that.

But it still stung every time you dropped everything to walk beside Dong-eun, every time your phone lit up with her name and you answered before the first ring finished. You said you were just friends. You said she needed help. You said it was nothing.

But it was something.

To everyone else, it was obvious. To them, it was undeniable.

And they started to wonder if they had been foolish from the beginning. Thinking they could be someone special to you when someone else already was. Thinking their quiet presence would ever mean as much as her whispered words.

Still, they kept showing up. Kept watching from the sidelines. Kept hoping, somehow, that one day you’d look at them the way you looked at her.

But with every passing moment, it felt more like a losing game.

Because no matter what you were doing, no matter how chaotic your world became, you always seemed to have time for Moon Dong-eun.

However, it was not a total loss when they figured out that bullying Dong-eun meant grabbing your attention. It may not have been the most ideal or moral way to do it, but for them, it worked. For the first time, you actually looked their way. You didn’t just pass by or smile politely—you reacted. Maybe you were angry, maybe you were disappointed, but you noticed. And for them, that was everything. They had lived in your shadow for so long, desperate for even a flicker of your gaze, and suddenly, through something cruel and twisted, they found a way to keep you looking.

It wasn’t right. It wasn’t justified. But it was effective.

They didn’t care that it hurt Dong-eun—she was simply the means to an end. What mattered was the attention they finally earned. Because no matter how many times they tried to impress you, be like you, or win your affection, it never lasted. But this? This got a reaction. This kept you engaged. Even if you scolded them, even if you were disgusted by them, it was still the longest stretch of time you had ever focused on them. And to someone starved for your approval, that was worth everything.

You always stayed later than the other students at school because of your responsibilities with the student council. On average, you were at school one or two hours after the final bell rang—just one of the many things that came with the role. It wasn't something you minded much; the quiet halls and empty classrooms gave you a sense of calm. Fortunately, today’s meeting had been brief, and you were heading out just an hour later.

As you made your way through the hallway, the silence was interrupted by faint but frantic yelling. It was coming from the direction of the gym. That was odd—the gym was supposed to be locked after school hours. No sports clubs were active today, and any scheduled practices had ended well before your meeting.

Curious and a little concerned, you approached the gym doors. The cries for help grew louder as you got closer. Your heart sank.

You pushed open the door.

Inside, your eyes immediately landed on the familiar faces of Yeon-jin and her clique. Surrounding them was Dong-eun, cornered, bruised, and clearly terrified. It wasn’t hard to piece together what was going on.

You knew exactly where this was headed.

Yeon-jin and her friends had a reputation. They were the kind of girls who tormented others for sport, and they got away with it. Their parents were powerful—wealthy, well-connected, untouchable. It was unfair, infuriating even, how often their behavior was overlooked, excused, or swept under the rug.

But now, you had seen it with your own eyes. And this time, they couldn't talk their way out of it. Not with you here. Not with someone who actually gave a damn.

You took a step forward, your voice steady.

“What the hell is going on here?”

Your voice echoed sharply against the gym’s high ceilings, slicing through the cruel laughter. Dong-eun flinched at the sound, pressing her back harder against the wall, as if trying to disappear. Yeon-jin turned to you slowly, her expression shifting from surprise to something far more familiar—calculated confidence.

“Oh,” she said with a smirk, flipping her perfectly styled hair over her shoulder. “Didn’t see you there.”

“I bet you didn’t.” You took a step closer, your eyes flicking to Dong-eun briefly—checking for serious injuries, making sure she was still standing. She looked shaken, scared, but not broken. Not yet. Not while you were here.

Yeon-jin crossed her arms. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” you said, raising a brow. “Because it looks a lot like six people cornering a defenseless girl in a locked gym after school. Do enlighten me if I’m wrong.”

“We were just playing around. It was a joke.” Jae-Joon laughed.

“A joke?” you repeated, your voice cold now. “Then why was she screaming for help?”

You walked past them and went straight to Dong-eun. She stiffened as you approached, clearly unsure of your intentions. You crouched down slowly, gently, keeping your hands where she could see them.

“Dong-eun,” you said softly. “Are you okay?”

She hesitated, her lips parting but no words coming out. Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears. You didn’t press her for an answer. Instead, you stood up and turned back to Yeon-jin and her entourage, your expression steely.

You left the gym with Dong-eun by your side, your hand gently resting on her back to guide her forward. Neither of you looked back.

Yeon-jin and the others stood frozen in the gym, watching as you walked away with Dong-eun. The door closed behind you with a quiet click, but the silence that followed was deafening. No more laughter. No more taunts. Just the sting of realization and the weight of something unfamiliar—powerlessness.

They hated it. Hated that in the end, it was always Dong-eun who got your attention. No matter what they did, no matter how loudly they laughed or how cruelly they played their games, it was her you looked at with concern. Her you reached for. Her you protected.

But even as that bitterness settled in their chests, they couldn’t deny the fleeting satisfaction they felt—because for one moment, even if it was brief, you looked at them. You spoke directly to them. You saw them. Maybe it wasn’t the admiration they wanted. Maybe it came with anger, disappointment, even disgust. But it was something.

And that something was worth more than they’d ever admit out loud.

So they watched you go, silent and unmoving, clinging to the hope that maybe next time—next confrontation, next outburst, next scene—they’d manage to capture more than just a glance. Maybe next time, it wouldn’t be Dong-eun you rushed to help. Maybe next time, it would be them who had your full attention.

Because underneath the cruelty, the privilege, and the pride, there was something deeper—desperation. A hunger not just for power or control, but for validation. For acknowledgment. For you.

And if that meant tormenting someone like Dong-eun, if it meant pushing boundaries and crossing lines, then so be it.

Because for one single minute, you looked at them.

And that minute was everything.

[vanilladollette]

Beneath The Surface

[vanilladollette]

Hey bae

This isn't much but can you write more about yandere Jae-jun x female reader

Yandere father Jae-Joon x Daughter Reader headcanons

A/n: I hope you don't mind that I made it an Yandere Jae-Joon x daughter reader!

The moment you were born, Jae-Joon became fixated. Holding you in his arms for the first time, he felt like you were the only person who could never betray him.

He swore to himself right then and there—he’d be the perfect father. Not out of duty, but because you were his entire world.

After everything fell apart—his ruined reputation, broken relationships, the loss of his “status”—you were the only thing he clung to.

His love for you evolved into something possessive. Something that grew twisted in the silence of his empty home.

He says things like:

“I don’t need anyone else. As long as I have you, I’m complete.”

“Other people leave. But you wouldn’t leave Appa, right?”

He picks your clothes (“That skirt is too short. I’ll choose something better for you.”)

He filters your media, blocks numbers from your phone, and installs cameras in your room, saying it’s for “safety.”

You’re homeschooled or transferred constantly—he doesn’t want anyone to influence you.

If you ever question him, he shuts it down with:

“You don’t know what the world is like. I do. You’re still just a child.”

He wants to keep you dependent on him forever. Even if you’re a teenager or older, he’ll still treat you like you’re five.

Calls you pet names like “baby,” “princess,” or “daddy’s girl.”

Feeds you, dresses you, brushes your hair—anything to keep you close.

Gets upset when you try to do things on your own:

“You don’t need to grow up so fast. Why rush? Stay little for just a bit longer—for Appa.”

If you make new friends, try to go out, or express interest in leaving home, his tone changes.

He won’t yell. He’ll sigh. Withdraw. Act deeply hurt.

“I guess you don’t need me anymore.”

“All I’ve done… and now you want to run away like your mother did?”

And the worst part? You end up apologizing to him.

Keeps your baby clothes. Has a box of every art project you ever made.

Has videos of you playing as a child that he watches late at night.

“Everything about you is precious. I could never throw anything of yours away.”

The moment he senses you're pulling away—emotionally or physically—he’ll act.

Whether that’s faking illness to make you stay, sabotaging your plans, or even threatening others who get too close, he’ll stop at nothing.

And if all else fails, he’ll take you somewhere remote.

“No more school. No more strangers. Just you and Appa. Isn’t that perfect?”

To him, it’s not wrong.

You’re his daughter. His only family. His everything. And keeping you safe—keeping you his—is an act of love.

He doesn’t see his behavior as sick. He sees it as devotion.

“You might hate me now, but one day you’ll understand. No one in the world could ever love you more than I do.”

[vanilladollette]

Could you please write doyeong (non yandere) falling for reader (either as yesol's nanny or his assistant depends on you 😊) . As yesol's nanny she became a motherly figure for her and she loves her like her own daughter. And as his assistant she sometimes babysat yesol and took care of her like a mother would. So doyeong started to fall in love with her after seeing how kind, loving and loyal she is (total opposite of yeonjin).

Falling In Love With You

Pairing: Ha Do-yeong x Nanny female reader

Summary: Do-yeong gradually falls in love with his daughter Ye-sol’s nanny, whose warmth, devotion, and maternal care transform their home and bring light into both his and Ye-sol’s lives.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warning: none

Author's note: none

Do-yeong remembers when you were first hired. It had been Yeon-jin’s decision—after two long years at home with Ye-sol, she was ready to return to work. As much as she adored her daughter, the walls of the house had started to feel like they were closing in. She needed a break, needed to feel like more than just a mother. So, she interviewed nannies, carefully choosing someone she believed would care for Ye-sol the way she would.

That someone was you.

Your job was simple on paper: take care of Ye-sol. She was still too young for kindergarten, so there were no school runs or busy schedules. Just days spent playing, feeding her, napping, and keeping her safe. You came in with a quiet warmth, and it didn’t take long for Ye-sol to take to you. She followed you around like a shadow, laughed more, and grew more confident with each passing day.

Do-yeong noticed the difference almost immediately.

He hadn’t been around much during the first week you were hired. Between board meetings and client dinners, he’d only caught glimpses of you in the mornings or late evenings. But the first time he truly saw you was a rainy Wednesday afternoon.

He’d come home early from work, soaked and exhausted. The living room was quiet, save for soft music playing in the background. He shrugged off his coat and shoes and stepped into the room, and that’s when he saw it—Ye-sol asleep on the couch, her head resting on your lap while you gently combed your fingers through her hair.

You didn’t notice him right away. You were humming a soft lullaby, eyes on the little girl curled up beside you. You looked peaceful, content.

And Do-yeong, for reasons he couldn’t yet understand, felt something shift inside him.

He cleared his throat to announce his presence, and you looked up, startled at first. Then you smiled—polite, warm, and just a little tired.

“Welcome home, Mr. Ha,” you whispered, careful not to wake Ye-sol.

He nodded. “She’s asleep?”

“She was playing all morning. I think the rain made her drowsy.”

He sat across from you, watching the way you shifted slightly to make Ye-sol more comfortable. Your movements were instinctive, thoughtful. And when you looked down at her again, your eyes softened with something almost maternal.

“She really likes you,” he said quietly.

You looked up at him again, a little smile tugging at your lips. “I really like her too.”

That had been the beginning.

Over the months that followed, Do-yeong began to notice more and more. The way Ye-sol ran into your arms in the mornings, beaming from ear to ear. The way you carried her on your hip as you hummed through household chores, always mindful to teach her something new—a word, a song, a gentle lesson. You treated her like your own child, even though she wasn’t.

And slowly, that wall around Do-yeong’s heart—one he didn’t even realize he’d built—began to crack.

He wasn’t blind to his wife’s limitations. Yeon-jin loved their daughter, yes, but there was always a distance to it, a curated tenderness that never quite reached the heart. Do-yeong had learned to ignore it, to convince himself that this was just the way things were. He’d accepted that maybe some parents were simply less hands-on. But then you came along.

You weren’t flashy or loud. You didn’t try to prove yourself or ask for recognition. You just were—present, steady, dependable. You stayed late without complaint, soothed Ye-sol through fevers and nightmares, showed up early when you knew Yeon-jin had a meeting. You remembered the little things: Ye-sol’s favorite snacks, her bedtime stories, the way she liked her blanket tucked just so.

More than once, Do-yeong found himself watching you when you weren’t looking. He’d be reading a report at the kitchen table while you sat cross-legged on the rug, guiding Ye-sol’s tiny hands as she painted. Or he’d return home to the sound of laughter echoing down the hall, only to find you both dancing clumsily in your socks, lost in your own little world.

It was in those moments that he felt it again—that quiet pull in his chest, the one he tried so hard to ignore.

One evening, Do-yeong arrived home later than usual. The house was dark, save for the soft light in the living room. He expected everyone to be asleep, but as he stepped inside, he heard low voices.

Curious, he followed the sound.

You were sitting on the floor beside the couch, your arm draped protectively around a drowsy Ye-sol, who clung to you like a koala. Her eyes were barely open, but she was speaking in a sleepy mumble.

“Do you have a daughter too?” she asked, her words slurred.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “No, sweetheart. Just you.”

“But you act like my mommy.”

Your expression faltered, just for a second. “I guess I love you like a mommy would.”

Ye-sol’s eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”

Do-yeong’s heart clenched.

You hadn’t seen him, and he didn’t want to interrupt. He backed away, slipping into the hallway. That night, he sat in his office long after the lights were off, staring blankly at the wall.

How was it possible for someone else to love his daughter so effortlessly? So naturally?

And how had he never realized just how much he’d wanted that—for both of them?

The shift in his feelings was slow, like the changing of the seasons. There wasn’t one grand moment of realization, no dramatic epiphany. Just a collection of small things.

The way his mornings felt lighter when you greeted him with a soft smile and a cup of tea.

The way he found himself looking forward to weekends, knowing you’d be around for at least part of the day.

The way his heart raced when you laughed, even if the joke wasn’t that funny.

The way Ye-sol looked at you, like you hung the moon.

And maybe that’s what truly did it—seeing his daughter thrive under your care. She was happier, more open. She laughed more, cried less. She was growing into herself, and you were the one guiding her.

It was impossible not to love the person responsible for that kind of joy.

He never told Yeon-jin. There wasn’t a point. Things between them had been strained for a while, and she was too busy climbing the next rung of her career to notice the subtle changes in him.

But you noticed.

One afternoon, he caught you staring at him from across the dining room, a curious expression on your face.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly.

He hesitated. Then nodded. “Yes. Just… thinking.”

You tilted your head, not quite convinced. “You’ve been quieter lately.”

He shrugged. “Work.”

You didn’t push. Instead, you offered him a small smile and went back to helping Ye-sol with her snack. But that night, he found himself lying awake in bed, your words echoing in his head.

You saw him. Really saw him.

And it scared him.

It was Ye-sol who broke the silence between you.

She was sitting on the floor one afternoon, scribbling in a notebook with great determination. When Do-yeong peeked over her shoulder, he saw the words “My Family” scrawled at the top of the page, surrounded by crude stick figures.

There was one for him—tall, with glasses.

One for Yeon-jin—complete with high heels.

And then there was one for you.

She had drawn a heart between you and herself.

Do-yeong pointed to it. “Who’s that?”

“That’s [Your Name],” she said proudly.

“And the heart?”

“She’s my real mommy,” she whispered. “Not just pretend.”

Do-yeong’s throat tightened. He crouched beside her, gently pulling her into his arms.

“She’s very special, huh?”

Ye-sol nodded against his shoulder. “She loves me all the time.”

He found you in the kitchen a little later, packing up your things. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway until you noticed him.

He found you in the kitchen a little later, packing up your things. He hovered awkwardly in the doorway until you noticed him.

You glanced up, startled. “Oh—Mr. Ha. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” he said softly. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

You gave him a small smile and turned back to your tote, tucking Ye-sol’s drawings inside the folder you always kept for her. “Everything alright?”

Do-yeong hesitated. There were a thousand things he wanted to say, but none of them felt right in the stillness of that moment. So instead, he asked, “Do you have a moment?”

You paused, sensing the weight behind the question. “Of course.”

He gestured to the breakfast nook, and the two of you sat, the air between you thick with something unspoken. From the hallway, the distant sound of Ye-sol singing to herself in the bathtub drifted toward you, soft and off-key.

“She really loves you,” he said after a beat, his voice low.

You looked down, your fingers folding and unfolding a corner of the napkin on the table. “I love her too,” you said quietly. “I know I’m not her mom… but sometimes, it feels like I am.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” he replied gently.

“I try not to overstep.”

“You haven’t.”

You lifted your eyes to his, surprised by the certainty in his voice. He leaned back in his seat, his gaze steady.

“She’s happier since you came,” he continued. “She smiles more. Talks more. She’s… softer.”

You let out a breath. “She’s an easy child to love. But I always worry Yeon-jin might think I’m—”

“She doesn’t see it,” he interrupted. “She doesn’t see a lot of things.”

There was a beat of silence between you. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. Instead, you waited. Watched.

Do-yeong leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table. “I see it, though. I see the way you are with her. The way you remember the little things. The way you hold her when she’s scared. I notice… everything.”

Your heart thudded quietly in your chest.

“She drew you in a picture today,” he said after a moment. “Wrote ‘My Family’ on the top.”

You swallowed. “She told me she was working on something special, but she didn’t show me.”

“She drew a heart between you and her. When I asked, she said…” He paused, looking down. “She said you’re her real mommy. Not just pretend.”

You blinked back the sudden sting in your eyes. “She said that?”

Do-yeong nodded. “And I realized something. I’ve spent a long time thinking that family was something you’re born into. But maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s something you build—with time and trust and kindness.”

You didn’t speak, afraid your voice might crack.

“I don’t know when it happened,” he said softly. “But somewhere along the way, I stopped seeing you as just Ye-sol’s nanny.”

You met his gaze. “Then how do you see me?”

He exhaled slowly, as if the words had been lodged inside him for far too long. “As someone I care about. Deeply. As someone who’s given my daughter more love than I ever knew she was missing.”

Your breath caught.

“She looks at you like you hung the stars,” he added. “And I think… I might be starting to do the same.”

For a moment, the world stood still.

You felt the warmth of his words settle in your chest, spreading like sunlight. You had always tried to keep your role professional, respectful of the boundaries of their marriage, even when the cracks in it had become more and more visible. But you weren’t blind. You saw the way he lingered in the doorways, the way he smiled when you laughed, the way his eyes softened when you held his daughter.

You had just never let yourself hope.

“I don’t want to make things complicated,” you said carefully. “I would never want to hurt Yeon-jin or disrupt your family.”

“I understand,” he said. “And I’m not asking for anything you’re not ready for. I just… needed you to know. Because watching you care for Ye-sol has made me realize what real love looks like.”

You looked at him then—not as your employer, not as the man married to someone else, but as the father of a little girl who adored you, and as someone who had quietly started to matter to you too.

“I care about you, too,” you said softly. “More than I probably should.”

He didn’t touch you. Didn’t cross the space between you. But the look in his eyes was enough—it was full of longing and relief and something fragile, like hope.

That night, when you said goodbye and he walked you to the door, there was a pause just before you stepped outside. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, uncertain.

You smiled gently. “Goodnight, Do-yeong.”

His name sounded different on your tongue—softer. Closer.

“Goodnight,” he echoed.

You left with your heart fluttering.

The next few weeks were a careful dance—soft looks exchanged across the kitchen, quiet conversations in the living room after Ye-sol went to bed. Neither of you rushed. Neither of you said too much.

But things changed.

He started making time—coming home earlier, joining you and Ye-sol for dinner, offering to help wash the dishes even when you insisted you had it handled.

He started asking about your life. Not just polite questions, but real ones—your family, your dreams, what made you laugh. You caught him watching you sometimes, a small smile tugging at his lips like he was memorizing you.

And slowly, you began to let yourself want.

One Sunday morning, you were sitting in the backyard with Ye-sol, blowing bubbles and watching them float lazily through the spring air. She was giggling, chasing them with tiny hands, when Do-yeong stepped outside with two cups of coffee.

He handed you one and sat beside you, silent for a moment.

“She asked if we could all live together one day,” he said.

You looked at him, startled.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he continued. “But I think… I want that too.”

Your heart stuttered. “What about—?”

“Yeon-jin’s been traveling more. Working more. We’ve barely spoken outside of logistics.” He looked down at his cup. “We’re living in separate worlds. And I think we both know it.”

You said nothing. You couldn’t.

But he turned to you then, his expression soft. “I’m not rushing this. I just want you to know… that whatever this is between us, it’s real for me.”

You felt the truth in his words. And when Ye-sol crawled into your lap minutes later, breathless and smiling, you wrapped your arms around her instinctively—like she was already yours.

Maybe, in all the ways that mattered, she was.

And maybe—just maybe—he was too.

[vanilladollette]

Stalker!Dong-eun

Stalker!Dong-eun who memorized your routine down to the minute. The way you stir your coffee twice before drinking. The way your eyes flick toward the door every time someone enters, like you're waiting for something—or someone. She knows which mornings you leave in a rush, forgetting your keys, and which nights you stay up too late, light still on at 2:17 a.m. She doesn’t need to guess your mood; she reads it in the slump of your shoulders, the tap of your fingers on your cup.

Stalker!Dong-eun who, at night, watches your window from across the street. Your shadow dances behind the curtain. You never draw it fully closed. Maybe it’s carelessness. Or maybe, deep down, some part of you wants to be seen. And she sees you—every flicker of movement, every lonely breath. You’re her ritual now. Her obsession. Her quiet, methodical purpose. And one day, she’ll stop watching.

She’ll come knocking.

[vanilladollette]

Hi,I rarely write messages like this, but I can't help expressing my gratitude for Beneath The Surface. This is a story that doesn’t just narrate—it makes you analyze, feel the depth of the characters, and search for hidden meanings between the lines. Nothing in it feels accidental—everything is interconnected, logical, and well thought out, which is something I truly appreciate.Every detail, every emotion is conveyed in a way that makes you reflect on motives, consequences, and human nature. This story has balance—between tension and calm, between darkness and glimpses of light, between logic and emotion. It’s neither overwhelming nor shallow. It offers exactly the level of immersion that commands respect for the author's work.That’s why I sincerely hope you’ll continue. Not because you have to, but because stories like this are rare. They deserve to be developed, and you deserve recognition for your skillful storytelling. Thank you for creating such an atmosphere and for giving us a story that is truly worth following.

Thank you for your thoughts on the story! I'm glad that you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I really try to put effort into the story and not just another x reader where the reader isn't added and doesn't change the plot of the show.

Anyway, I'm glad that you enjoy it!

[vanilladollette]

Hello!

Can you write about jae-jun x female reader who just find out that he has a daughter that isn't biologically hers and she confronts jae-jun about it, lashing out on him.

Female reader is worried that he must've been cheating on her with Yeon-Jin.

Basically just like how Do- yeong confronted Yeon-Jin

Very angst please ..

(Take your time and I wanna say that I love your writing so much that it's unhealthy 😭 ♡)

The Secrets Kept Hidden

Pairing: Jeon Jae-Joon x Female reader

Summary: Your world is shattered when you receive a late-night call revealing your husband’s long-hidden affair and secret child, forcing you to confront his betrayal and walk away from the life you once trusted.

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's note: Thank you!! I'm glad you love my writing!

It never once crossed your mind that Jae-joon would betray you.

Your marriage, though not perfect, had always felt steady—solid in a way that made you believe nothing could shake its foundation. You weren’t naïve; you knew that love, no matter how strong, required effort. There were arguments, moments of cold silence, and the occasional doubt that crept into your thoughts during the late hours of the night. But through it all, you had never questioned his loyalty. Never once had you allowed yourself to think that Jae-joon could be the kind of man who would break his vows, who would look you in the eyes and lie without hesitation. You trusted him completely. You built your life around that trust.

Then the phone call came.

It was late, the kind of late that made you hesitate before answering. The number was unfamiliar, but something about the way the phone rang—sharp, insistent—sent an unease slithering through your veins. You stood frozen for a moment, your thumb hovering over the screen, torn between ignoring it and picking up. Eventually, curiosity—or perhaps some deep, unspoken fear—won out. You answered.

"Hello?"

For a second, there was only silence, just the soft crackle of the line, and then a woman’s voice. Calm. Collected. But beneath that composure, you could hear the weight of something heavier.

"Is this Jae-joon’s wife?"

A chill spread down your spine. The words didn’t register at first, not fully, but something inside you instinctively recoiled. Your grip on the phone tightened.

"Who is this?" you asked, voice wary, stomach twisting with an unnameable dread.

"My name is Moon Dong-eun," she said, her tone slow and deliberate, as if she were choosing her words carefully. "I have something to tell you about your husband. I thought you should hear the truth."

The truth. The way she said it made your skin prickle.

A dozen thoughts rushed through your mind at once. Who was this woman? Why was she calling you? Was this some kind of scam? A cruel joke? But beneath all of those thoughts, something darker lingered—a whisper of fear, of knowing, before you even had the words for it.

"Why should I believe you?" you asked, keeping your voice steady despite the way your pulse pounded.

Dong-eun sighed, and for a moment, you thought she might change her mind, that she might decide to keep whatever knowledge she held to herself. But then she spoke again.

"Because this is something your husband would never tell you himself."

And then she said the words that made your world crack open.

"Your husband had an affair."

The breath left your lungs. The world around you stilled, everything fading into the background except for the sound of your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

"You’re lying," you whispered, but the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

"I wish I were," Dong-eun said. "But there’s more. He didn’t just cheat on you. He had a child."

The words barely made sense.

"Her name is Ha Ye-sol," she continued, pressing the knife deeper. "Her mother is Park Yeon-jin."

Something inside you shattered.

You knew that name. Everyone did. Yeon-jin, the beautiful and untouchable newscaster, the woman whose face graced television screens across the country, the woman who always seemed to be perfect, polished, admired. She was the kind of person you saw from afar, someone who existed in a different world—one of cameras and flashing lights, of tailored dresses and practiced smiles. Never, not even in your worst nightmares, did you think she would be tied to your husband in a way that made your entire existence feel like a lie.

"They were close in high school," Dong-eun said, filling in the missing pieces to a puzzle you had never even realized existed. "I don’t know if they’re still involved. But what I do know is that Ye-sol is his daughter. And she was born during your marriage."

The room tilted. Your stomach lurched.

A child.

Jae-joon had a child with another woman.

And he had kept it from you.

The betrayal settled into your chest like a heavy stone, dragging you down into an ocean of confusion and grief. How long had he been lying to you? How many times had he kissed you, held you, whispered that he loved you, while knowing the entire time that he was hiding something so monumental?

"I’m sorry," Dong-eun said, her voice softer now. "I know this is a lot. But you needed to hear it from someone."

Your throat felt tight, like it was closing in on itself. "Why are you telling me this?"

There was a pause. Then, Dong-eun’s voice came through, steady and unyielding.

"Because you need to know who you’re married to."

The line went dead.

But the words lingered.

---

When Jae-joon came home that night, you were already waiting.

You heard the front door open, the sound of keys hitting the glass tray near the entrance. His footsteps were light, unhurried, as if this was just another night, as if nothing had changed. He walked into the living room and saw you standing there, unmoving, your arms crossed tightly over your chest.

His eyes flickered with something—confusion, concern—but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t the panic you wanted to see.

"What’s wrong?" he asked, his voice calm, like he hadn’t just shattered your entire life.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "That’s what you’re going with? ‘What’s wrong?’"

His expression darkened slightly. "I don’t understand—"

"Don’t." Your voice cut through the air, sharp and laced with fury. You stepped closer, your hands curling into fists at your sides. "Don’t stand there and pretend you don’t know."

For a second, just a second, hesitation flickered across his face. And that was all the confirmation you needed.

"How long?" Your voice wavered, but the anger kept it steady. "How long were you going to keep this from me? Or did you just think I’d never find out?"

Jae-joon exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Stop lying to me!" you snapped, stepping forward until there was barely any space between you. "I know about Yeon-jin. I know about Ha Ye-sol."

Silence.

Something shifted in his expression—something unreadable, something dangerous.

"Who told you?" he asked, his voice quieter now, more cautious.

"Does it matter?" You let out a bitter laugh, your vision blurring. "Because it sure as hell wasn’t you. Were you ever planning to tell me, or was I just supposed to spend the rest of my life as the fool you made me into?"

His jaw tightened. "It’s not what you think."

"Oh, really? Then tell me what it is, because from where I’m standing, it looks like you cheated on me and had a child with another woman."

Silence again.

And in that silence, you had your answer.

Jae-joon reached for you, but you jerked away. His touch—the same touch that once made you feel safe—now felt like poison.

"I don’t even know who you are anymore," you whispered.

And then you walked away, leaving behind the man who had already left you long ago.

[vanilladollette]

Do you accept request for sfw alphabet? Can you please write it for yeojeong, doyeong, jaejoon?

SFW Alphabet

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Yeo-jeong is incredibly affectionate, both physically and emotionally. He’s the type to shower his partner with loving words, gentle touches, and spontaneous hugs. He’s very expressive, often looking for ways to make his affection known, whether through small gifts, thoughtful gestures, or simply checking in to make sure you're okay.

Jae-joon is possessive and intense with his affection. He’s not overly verbal, but he shows it through protective gestures, expensive gifts, and physical closeness.

Do-yeong isn’t overly affectionate in public, but he expresses love through actions rather than words. He’ll ensure your comfort, anticipate your needs, and show up when it matters most. In private, he’s more physically affectionate—soft touches, forehead kisses, and lingering glances that speak volumes.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

As a best friend, Yeo-jeong is warm, supportive, and always ready to lend a listening ear. The friendship would likely start in a lighthearted way—maybe through a shared joke or him offering to help you with something. He’s the type of friend who encourages you to chase your dreams and is always up for deep conversations.

As a best friend, Jae-Joon the type to tease you relentlessly, but if anyone else tries it? He’s immediately defensive. Your friendship likely starts through mutual acquaintances or an unexpected moment where he realizes you’re someone worth keeping around. He may act cocky, but he’s loyal to those he truly trusts.

As a best friend, Do-yeong is dependable, intelligent, and a great conversationalist. Your friendship likely starts through a mutual interest or a professional connection, gradually growing into something deeper. He’s the type to offer sound advice, support your ambitions, and be a quiet but steady presence in your life.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Loves cuddling. He prefers holding you close, resting his chin on your head, and occasionally running his fingers through your hair. Yeo-jeong enjoys being the big spoon but wouldn’t mind switching if it makes you feel more comfortable.

Jae-joon enjoys cuddling, but only when he’s in the mood. He prefers having you in his lap or lying beside him with his arm draped over your waist. He likes the feeling of control and knowing you’re close.

Do-yeong enjoys cuddling, but it’s not something he initiates often. When he does, he prefers to hold you close, resting his chin on your head or having you lean against his chest while he absentmindedly runs a hand through your hair.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Yeo-Jeong dreams of settling down and creating a warm, loving home. He’s surprisingly good at cooking and enjoys making comfort food for his partner. Cleaning isn’t his strong suit, but he’ll do his part, especially if it means making you happy.

Settling down isn’t something Jae-Joon thinks about immediately, but with the right person, he’d consider it. As for cooking and cleaning? He has the money to hire people for that, and he prefers it that way. However, if you ever asked him to help, he’d (grudgingly) do it—just don’t expect gourmet meals.

Do-yeong is very capable when it comes to domestic life. He appreciates a well-maintained home and will do his part, though he likely delegates tasks or hires help for efficiency. Cooking? He’s skilled at simple, elegant meals but prefers dining out.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

If Yeo-Jeong had to break up with his partner, he would do it gently and honestly, making sure to explain his reasons and give them closure. He’s not one to ghost or leave things unresolved, and he would likely struggle with hurting the other person.

If Jae-Joon had to break up, it wouldn’t be clean or easy. He’s not the type to let go easily, and even if he’s the one ending it, he’d still check up on you and find excuses to stay in your life. If you left him? He’d struggle to accept it and might act out in petty ways to get your attention.

If Do-yeong had to break up, he would do it with dignity and respect. He’d sit you down for an honest conversation, ensuring you had closure and understanding rather than leaving things unresolved.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Yeo-jeong values commitment and sees marriage as something beautiful. He wouldn’t rush into it, but if he’s sure about you, he would want to take that next step sooner rather than later.

Commitment is tricky for Jae-joon. He likes the idea of having someone that’s his, but marriage feels like a big step. He’d need time to be fully convinced, but once he is, he’ll go all in. Expect a flashy proposal—he wants you (and everyone else) to know he won.

Commitment isn’t something Do-yeong takes lightly. He needs to be absolutely certain before proposing, but once he does, he’s all in. He values stability and would plan the marriage meticulously.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Yeo-Jeong is extremely gentle in both his words and touch. He knows how to be playful, but when it comes to emotions, he’s always careful not to hurt his partner.

Physically, Jae-Joon can be rough around the edges, but when it comes to you, he knows how to be gentle—especially when you need comfort. Emotionally, he struggles with expressing vulnerability, but he does care deeply.

Do-yeong is emotionally composed and physically careful with his touch. His gentleness is most evident in the way he listens to you, making sure you feel valued and understood.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Yeo-Jeong loves hugs and will initiate them often. He prefers long, warm embraces that make you feel completely safe in his arms.

Jae-joon enjoys hugs, but only on his terms. He’s the type to pull you into his chest, resting his chin on your head while holding you tightly. Surprise hugs? He might act annoyed, but secretly, he loves them.

Do-yeong doesn’t hug often, but when he does, it’s firm and grounding. He’ll wrap his arms around you protectively, making you feel safe and cherished.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He says it when he feels it, which could be pretty early in the relationship. Yeo-jeong isn’t afraid of his emotions, so once he realizes he loves you, he won’t hold back from expressing it.

He doesn’t say "I love you" quickly or easily. He’d show it first—through gestures, gifts, and protectiveness. When he does finally say it, it’ll be a little awkward, but genuine.

Do-yeong takes his time with deep emotional confessions. He wants to be sure of his feelings before saying "I love you," but when he does, it’s meaningful and said with full conviction.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Yeo-Jeong gets jealous, but he tries to handle it maturely. He won’t lash out, but he might subtly hold you closer or become more affectionate as a way to remind you that you’re his.

Extremely jealous. Jae-joon doesn’t like seeing you with anyone he deems a threat, and he won’t hesitate to make his presence known. He’d wrap an arm around your waist, glare at whoever’s making him uncomfortable, or outright confront them.

Do-yeong is not overly jealous, but he’s definitely territorial. If someone oversteps, he won’t make a scene, but he’ll assert his presence in a way that leaves no doubts about where you belong.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Soft and lingering. Yeo-Jeong loves forehead kisses, but his favorite place to kiss you is your hands—especially when he wants to be romantic.

His kisses are deep, slow, and possessive. He loves kissing your neck and jaw, anywhere that leaves a mark. As for being kissed? He likes it when you kiss his lips softly or run your fingers through his hair while doing it.

His kisses are slow, deliberate, and intimate. Do-yeong prefers kissing you on the temple, the back of your hand, or the corner of your lips—subtle but powerful gestures of love

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Yeo-Jeong great with children. He’s patient, playful, and knows how to make kids laugh. He would be an amazing father, always involved and making sure his kids feel loved.

Jae-joon has a soft spot for kids, though he doesn’t always know how to express it. He’d be the cool, somewhat reckless dad who spoils his child but struggles with emotional conversations. He’d try to be better, though, especially if it’s important to you.

Do-yeong is a natural around children—patient, attentive, and protective. He enjoys teaching and guiding kids, ensuring they grow up with strong values and a sense of security.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Mornings with Yeo-jeong are peaceful. He likes waking up slowly, cuddling for a while, and making you breakfast before starting the day.

Mornings with Jae-joon depend on his mood. If he’s in a good mood, he’ll tease you, steal kisses, and stay in bed longer just to mess with you. If he’s grumpy, he’ll groan about waking up and refuse to move until absolutely necessary.

Mornings with Do-yeong are structured yet peaceful. He wakes up early, drinks coffee while reading, and enjoys a quiet moment before starting the day. If you’re still asleep, he’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before heading out.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Nights with Yeo-Jeong are full of quiet conversations, shared laughter, and him holding you close as you fall asleep.

Nights with him are relaxed. He enjoys unwinding with a drink, watching something together, or just lying in bed talking (or doing something else). He likes the intimacy of nighttime.

Nights with Do-yeong are calm and intimate. He prefers unwinding with you, whether it’s watching something together, discussing the day, or simply lying beside you in comfortable silence.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Yeo-Jeong is pretty open from the start, though there are some deeper things he reveals only when he fully trusts you.

Jae-joon isn’t the most open person at first. He reveals things over time, usually through offhanded comments. He doesn’t like feeling vulnerable, but if he trusts you, he’ll eventually share more.

Do-yeong reveals himself gradually. He doesn’t dump all his emotions at once but lets you in over time, sharing deeper thoughts when he trusts you completely.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

Very patient. It takes a lot to truly anger Yeo-jeong though he does have limits when it comes to people hurting those he loves.

He has zero patience. He gets irritated quickly, especially when things don’t go his way. However, with you, he tries to be more patient—though you might have to calm him down sometimes.

Do-yeong has an incredible amount of patience, especially in professional settings. However, when provoked or when his loved ones are threatened, he can be firm and unyielding.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Remembers almost everything about you—especially the little things you might not even remember telling Yeo-Jeong.

Surprisingly, he remembers a lot about you. Even things you mention in passing—your favorite snack, the way you like your coffee, that one thing you wanted but didn’t buy. He’ll act like it’s no big deal, but he definitely pays attention.

Do-yeong remembers important details about you—your favorite things, how you take your coffee, what makes you smile. He won’t always verbalize it, but his actions will show that he’s paying attention.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

His favorite moment would be the first time you comforted him when he was the one struggling. He’s used to being the caretaker, but that moment made him feel deeply loved and understood.

Jae-Joon's favorite moment in your relationship would be the first time he realized he couldn’t imagine life without you—maybe a small, intimate moment where you took care of him or made him feel truly seen.

Do-yeong's favorite moment in your relationship would be a quiet, intimate one—maybe the first time you fell asleep in his arms or when you shared a personal dream with him, making him realize how deeply he cared for you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is very protective but not possessive. He makes sure you feel safe emotionally and physically. If anyone ever tries to hurt you, he won’t hesitate to step in. He doesn’t need protection in a physical sense, but emotionally, he needs reassurance that he’s enough for you.

Jae-joon is very protective. If anyone even looks at you the wrong way, he’ll have something to say about it. He’d do whatever it takes to make sure you’re safe. In return, he doesn’t like feeling weak—he wants to know that you’ll stay by his side no matter what.

Do-yeong is protective in a quiet, strategic way. He doesn’t act impulsively but instead ensures your safety with careful planning and awareness. He provides financial security, makes sure you’re comfortable, and subtly shields you from harm—whether it’s steering you away from a shady situation or using his influence to handle problems before they reach you. However, he values independence and wouldn’t want you to feel suffocated. In return, he appreciates emotional protection; knowing he has a safe space with you where he can be vulnerable means the world to him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts in a lot of effort! He’s the type to plan thoughtful dates and always makes anniversaries special. Even everyday tasks—he makes sure you feel appreciated and loved in small ways, whether it’s helping you with chores or just checking in on you.

Jae-Joon puts effort into things that matter to you. Anniversaries, dates, gifts—if he knows it’s important to you, he’ll go all out. He’s the type to buy extravagant gifts or plan something memorable, just to see your reaction.

He approaches relationships with the same precision he applies to business. Every anniversary, date, or special moment is thoughtfully planned—he doesn’t do anything halfheartedly. He prefers quality over quantity, meaning his gestures are grand yet deeply personal. Whether it’s an intimate dinner at a high-end restaurant or a rare piece of art that reminds him of you, he ensures that everything he does carries meaning.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His bad habit is overextending himself. He’s a people-pleaser at heart and sometimes takes on too much, exhausting himself in the process. He also tends to hide his pain behind a smile, not wanting to worry others.

Some bad habits? His temper, his arrogance, and his tendency to act possessive. Jae-Joon can be stubborn and refuses to admit when he’s wrong.

A bad habit of his is overworking himself. He’s used to high-pressure environments and often prioritizes work over rest, sometimes neglecting his own needs (and yours if he’s too caught up). Additionally, he can be emotionally reserved, making it difficult to read his true feelings unless you know him well.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

He cares about his appearance but isn’t obsessive. He knows how to dress well and take care of himself, but he doesn’t let vanity dictate his actions. He prefers looking effortlessly handsome rather than overly polished.

Very concerned with his looks. Jae-Joon takes pride in his appearance and enjoys being admired. He expects you to appreciate his efforts too.

Do-yeong takes great pride in his appearance. He is always well-dressed, well-groomed, and effortlessly sophisticated. While he isn’t vain in an arrogant way, he knows the importance of presentation, especially in his line of work. He expects a certain level of refinement in both himself and his surroundings.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes, he would feel incomplete without you. Yeo-jeong is someone who gives his whole heart in love, so losing you would deeply affect him. He would struggle to move on and might never fully recover emotionally.

Jae-Joon hates the idea of losing you. Even if he doesn’t always express it in words, you’re one of the few people who make him feel whole. Without you, he’d be lost—though he’d never admit it.

He wouldn’t easily admit it, but yes—he would feel incomplete without you. Do-yeong is used to controlling every aspect of his life, so when he truly lets someone in, they become an irreplaceable part of his world. Losing you would leave a deep, quiet void that he might never fully recover from, though he’d do everything to appear composed on the surface.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Yeo-Jeong secretly enjoys romantic dramas and would totally watch them with you.

Jae-Joon has a habit of buying things for you without asking. If he sees something that reminds him of you, he’ll get it—whether it’s designer clothes, jewelry, or something small but meaningful.

Do-yeong secretly enjoys games of strategy—whether chess, poker, or business negotiations. He likes testing his mind against challenges.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He dislikes cruelty, dishonesty, and arrogance. He has zero tolerance for people who treat others poorly. In a partner, he wouldn’t like someone who belittles him or disregards his emotions.

Jae-Joon hates being ignored or feeling like he’s not a priority. He also dislikes fake people and those who try too hard to impress others.

He dislikes dishonesty, especially in a partner. He values integrity and directness, so manipulation or deceit would be immediate deal-breakers. He also dislikes recklessness—he’s a calculated man, and he wouldn’t appreciate someone who constantly acts without thinking.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

Sleeps best when cuddling you, but Yeo-Jeong can also fall asleep anywhere when exhausted from work.

Jae-joon sleeps deeply when he’s comfortable. He likes sleeping with an arm draped over you, keeping you close. He’s also the type to grumble in his sleep if you try to move away.

Do-yeong sleeps lightly, often waking at the slightest disturbance. However, if he’s comfortable with you, he’ll sleep more deeply, knowing he’s in a safe space.

[vanilladollette]

Hey Nillian !

Can you write the bullies and Moon Dong-eun x ex bully female reader. while the bullies never changed, female reader has become more better and genuinely sweet, respectful, matured and she doesn't get punished by Dong-eun but instead they became friends, leaving the bullies are jealous and confused.

A Change Of Heart

Pairing: Moon Dong-eun x Ex-bully Fem! Reader, Bullies x Fem! Reader

Summary: A former bully seeks redemption, befriends Moon Dong-eun, and leaves her unrepentant old friends behind, making them realize they are the ones being left behind.

Author's note: none

You didn’t know what was wrong with you back in high school. Maybe it was peer pressure, maybe it was something uglier—either way, the truth was undeniable. You were a bully. Not just someone who went along with it, not just a passive bystander. You actively participated in making people miserable.

Looking back, it disgusts you. The things you said, the things you did. At the time, it all felt so easy, so insignificant. But now, as an adult, you see it for what it was—cruelty. Mindless, senseless cruelty. And the worst part? You can’t take it back.

You wish you could apologize to every single person you hurt. But you know apologies don’t fix everything. If they told you to go to hell, you wouldn’t blame them. You’d accept it. Because no matter how much you’ve changed, the past doesn’t just disappear.

The first step toward becoming a better person was cutting ties with them—your old friends, the ones who never changed. It wasn’t easy. They mocked you, called you weak, a traitor. But you knew the truth. They weren’t your friends. Not really.

It took years to unlearn the person you used to be. Years of self-reflection, of making amends where you could, of learning how to be kind without expecting anything in return.

You won’t ask for forgiveness. You don’t deserve it. But you’ll keep trying to be better anyway. Because it’s the only thing you can do.

Though it was easier said than done now that you came face to face with Moon Dong-eun.

You had to admit—you were scared to say anything. You knew an apology wouldn’t simply do. It wasn’t just about the words; it was about the years of suffering she endured, the irreversible damage that had been done.

Her gaze was cold, calculating, and for a split second, you braced yourself for the worst. Would she humiliate you? Would she destroy you the way she had destroyed the others? You wouldn’t fight it if she did.

But instead, she simply looked at you.

And you—standing there, not as the cruel teenager you once were, but as the woman who had spent years trying to change—held her gaze and did something none of your old friends would have ever done.

You bowed.

A deep, sincere bow, one of regret, of acknowledgment. "I don’t expect anything from you," you said quietly, your voice steady despite the nervous knot in your stomach. "I won’t waste your time with excuses or empty apologies. But I need you to know that I’m sorry. And I’ve spent years trying to be better. Not for forgiveness. Just… because I should."

Silence stretched between you. The old you would have been terrified of it, would have filled it with nervous laughter or empty justifications. But you stood your ground.

Finally, Dong-eun sighed. She studied you, her sharp eyes searching for something—perhaps insincerity, perhaps weakness. When she found neither, she nodded, almost imperceptibly.

And to your utter surprise, instead of walking away or something worse, she said, "Let’s get some coffee."

The news that you and Moon Dong-eun were on speaking terms spread faster than wildfire.

Your old "friends"—if you could still call them that—were the most affected.

"What the hell is this?" Yeon-jin sneered, arms crossed as she glared at you. "Did she break you so bad you’re licking her boots now?"

You sighed, exhaustion settling in. "Believe it or not, not everything is about revenge, Yeon-jin."

"Then what is it about?" Sa-ra scoffed, barely looking up from her nails. "You think playing nice will erase everything?"

"No," you admitted. "Nothing erases the past. But I can choose who I am now."

Hye-jeong rolled her eyes. "God, you sound so pathetic."

Maybe to them, you did. But as you thought of the quiet conversations over coffee with Dong-eun, of the moments where she almost smiled, of the way she seemed to accept—not forgive, but accept—that you were no longer the same person… you realized something.

You didn’t care what they thought.

And judging by the way Yeon-jin’s forced smile twitched, how Sa-ra’s indifference faltered, and how Hye-jeong’s voice held an edge of insecurity—maybe they knew that, too.

Maybe, for the first time, they were the ones feeling left behind.

[vanilladollette]

Hii! Could you make a fic where fem!reader is a new doctor that came to work in the same hospital where Yeo-jeong works and he slowly starts to fall for her? Maybe she somehow found out about arrangement between Dong-eun and Yeo-jeong and she wants to help them and maybe three of them enter poly relationship later (if you're okay with that, if not, then just Yeo-jeong and reader).

Revenge Is Sweet But Love Is Sweeter

Pairing: Moon Dong-eun x female reader, Joo Yeo-Jeong x reader, Poly Dong-eun x reader x Yeo-Jeong

Summary: A dedicated neurosurgeon, drawn to the intricacies of the human brain, finds herself entangled in a complex and quiet relationship with a brilliant plastic surgeon, Yeo-jeong, and his mysterious partner, Dong-eun.

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's note: I was thinking about writing a Poly Dong-eun x reader x Yeo-Jeong. You came at the right time XD Also, I'm not very familiar with Medical stuff. I just googled things so don't came at me pls 😭🙏🏻

As a child, I had a clear sense of direction about what I wanted to be when I grew up. The idea of becoming a doctor captivated me from an early age, not just because of the opportunity to help others, but because of my fascination with the intricacies of the human body. I became especially drawn to neurosurgery, a field that seemed to combine precision, science, and problem-solving in a way that was both challenging and profoundly rewarding. The idea of being able to make a difference by performing delicate surgeries on the brain or spinal cord fascinated me endlessly.

I remember vividly the first time I saw a documentary about neurosurgery, watching in awe as skilled surgeons navigated complex brain structures with such care and expertise. The more I learned, the more I was fascinated by the brain's complexity and the way even the smallest mistake could have such significant consequences. This mixture of high stakes, incredible responsibility, and the possibility of saving or improving someone’s life made neurosurgery feel like the perfect path for me.

I spent hours reading about the brain, watching medical shows, and talking to doctors, always seeking more information. The idea of understanding how the brain works, diagnosing conditions, and performing surgeries to treat them became my dream. It was clear to me that this was more than just a childhood aspiration—it was a passion that ignited a deep curiosity about the world of medicine and the human body. I knew that one day, I wanted to be in the operating room, making life-changing decisions, and helping people through some of the most difficult moments of their lives.

When I began medical school, the reality of becoming a neurosurgeon hit me. The long hours, the exhausting rotations, the never-ending studying—each moment felt like a test of my endurance. But every time I walked into the operating room, the adrenaline would hit, and I would remember why I was there. Even after countless nights of little sleep, I never lost sight of my goal. It wasn’t just about performing surgery; it was about saving lives, offering patients a second chance, and showing them the potential of their own recovery.

My journey wasn’t without its challenges. There were moments of self-doubt, especially when I saw my colleagues excel or when I stumbled through a procedure, unsure of my next move. The pressure of the profession is immense. Every decision you make could determine the course of someone’s life, and the weight of that responsibility is unlike anything you experience in other fields. Yet, as time passed, I began to gain more confidence, not just in my abilities, but in my calling. I started to trust my instincts and approach problems with a level of calm that was necessary in surgery. It was a quiet confidence, earned through countless hours of practice, observation, and mentorship.

Eventually, I reached the point where I was no longer just observing surgeries—I was performing them myself. The first time I was handed a scalpel during a procedure, my hands shook. It was the culmination of years of training, but at that moment, it felt like all of my hard work had finally come to fruition. I was responsible for someone’s life, and the weight of that was immense. But as the surgery progressed and I felt the rhythm of the operation, I knew this was where I was meant to be.

I soon started working at Seoul Joo General Hospital. It was there that I met Dr. Yeo-jeong.

At first, he was a name I had only heard in passing—a brilliant plastic surgeon with a reputation for being both meticulous and compassionate. What intrigued me most about him, however, wasn’t just his skill—it was the quiet depth in his eyes. Beneath his easy smile and warm demeanor.

We first crossed paths when I was assisting on a case that required both neurosurgical and reconstructive expertise. Watching him work up close, I was struck by his precision—each movement purposeful, his mind always three steps ahead. He had a way of speaking to patients that instantly put them at ease, as if he truly saw them, not just their injuries.

Our conversations started off clinical, strictly professional. But as time passed, I found myself drawn to him in ways I hadn’t expected. There was a gentleness in him, a kindness that felt rare in a field where detachment often became a survival mechanism.

Though Yeo-Jeong wasn't the only person I began to notice. I started to notice Yeo-Jeong sneaking off to speak with a woman with light skin, dark brown eyes with double eyelids and sleek, straight bobbed black hair, that she usually wears loose, she has a thin figure and is of average height.

It wasn't that Yeo-Jeong was talking to a woman, it was that he seemed to be doing something suspicious with her.

The first time I truly took notice of the woman, it was late in the evening. Most of the hospital had settled into its usual nighttime rhythm—dimmed lights, hushed voices, and the ever-present hum of monitors. I had been reviewing post-op scans when I saw Yeo-jeong slipping out of the staff lounge, his posture subtly tense in a way that felt out of character for someone so effortlessly composed.

He met the woman near the end of the hallway, in the shadows between the vending machines and an emergency exit. Their conversation was quiet, but the intensity in their body language was undeniable. She had a stillness about her, a careful control that felt measured, as if every movement was calculated. Yeo-jeong, on the other hand, carried a weight in his eyes—one I recognized only because I had seen it before in patients who bore wounds too deep for sutures to mend.

Something about their exchange unsettled me.

At first, I told myself it wasn’t my business. Everyone had their secrets, even doctors who seemed to have it all together. But then, the next day, I saw them again. And the day after that. Each time, their voices were hushed, their gazes heavy with meaning. The curiosity gnawed at me.

One evening, after finishing a particularly grueling surgery, I found myself walking toward the hospital’s rooftop for some air. I hadn’t expected to see anyone there, let alone Yeo-jeong and the woman standing at the edge, their conversation just low enough that I couldn’t make out the words. But I saw the way she placed a hand on his arm, the way his jaw clenched before he finally nodded.

It was then that I knew—this wasn’t just a friendship. This was something far more complicated.

I wasn’t reckless. I knew better than to pry into things that weren’t my business. But the next time I worked alongside Yeo-jeong in the operating room, I couldn’t stop myself from stealing glances at him between incisions, watching the way his hands moved with precision even when his mind seemed distant.

When we finally finished and were scrubbing out, I broke the silence.

"You've been distracted lately." My tone was casual, but the weight behind my words was anything but.

Yeo-jeong paused mid-motion, his fingers still slick with soap. For a moment, I thought he might deflect, offer a charming smile and change the subject. Instead, he sighed, his expression shifting into something more guarded.

"It’s complicated," he finally admitted.

"I’m a neurosurgeon," I replied, rinsing my hands. "Complicated is what I do."

He let out a quiet laugh, but there was no real humor in it. He dried his hands, then turned to face me fully. "It’s not something I can explain in a few words. But she—Dong-eun—is someone I owe a lot to. And I made a promise to help her."

There was a heaviness in his voice, a history I wasn’t yet privy to. But I had seen enough to know that this wasn’t a simple matter of old friends reconnecting. There was something deeper—something painful.

"If you trust me," I said carefully, "I want to help. Not just with whatever this is, but with you."

He studied me for a long moment, as if trying to decide whether letting me in was a mistake. Then, finally, he nodded.

"Alright," he murmured. "But if you step into this, there's no turning back."

The words hung between us like a thin wire stretched too tight, trembling under the weight of something unspoken.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t waver. I met Yeo-jeong’s gaze with steady resolve, even as a quiet storm brewed in his eyes.

“I’m not the type to turn back,” I said simply, drying my hands on a towel before tossing it aside.

For a moment, he only studied me, his expression unreadable. Then, with a quiet exhale, he nodded, a silent acknowledgment that I had just crossed an invisible threshold.

I didn't press him for details right away. Trust, especially in a place like this, was a delicate thing—built slowly, piece by piece. And though I had caught glimpses of something shadowed beneath his usual warmth, I knew better than to demand answers before he was ready to give them.

Instead, I did what I did best: I observed.

I watched the way his fingers tensed when his phone buzzed in the middle of rounds. The way his smile, so effortless around patients, sometimes faltered when he thought no one was looking. The way he always excused himself at the same time every night, vanishing for long stretches, only to return with a quiet, unsettled air about him.

I didn’t need to be a neurosurgeon to recognize the signs of a man carrying a burden too heavy for one person to bear.

And so, I waited.

It wasn’t until nearly a week later—late at night, long after most of the hospital had emptied—that he finally spoke.

We had just finished assisting on an emergency case, our scrubs still damp with sweat, adrenaline still lingering in our veins. Sitting side by side on a bench in the on-call room, he rolled his shoulders back, exhaling slowly before turning to me.

"You really want to help?" His voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it. A final chance to walk away.

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Something in him shifted then. A slow unraveling of whatever had been keeping him silent.

And so, he told me.

Not all of it—not yet. But enough.

Enough to understand that the woman I had seen him with, Dong-eun, wasn’t just some acquaintance. She was someone he had sworn to protect, someone whose pain ran deeper than any wound a scalpel could mend.

Enough to realize that this wasn’t just about him. That whatever battle he was fighting, it wasn’t over.

And that if I wanted to be a part of it, I needed to be sure.

After that night, things changed.

Yeo-jeong didn’t shut me out anymore. He didn’t keep his distance. If anything, he seemed to seek me out more often—whether it was a quiet nod in the hallway, a brush of his arm against mine during surgery, or the way his gaze lingered just a second too long when he thought I wasn’t looking.

And then there were the nights.

The stolen conversations in the dimly lit stairwells. The moments of quiet honesty between shifts, where he would let his guard slip just enough for me to see the exhaustion beneath.

It wasn’t just attraction—not in the fleeting, surface-level way I had once assumed. It was something deeper, something built on trust and understanding.

And maybe that’s what scared me the most.

Because the closer I got, the more I found myself drawn into the gravity of him—of them.

Dong-eun remained a mystery, always just out of reach. But I saw the way she looked at Yeo-jeong when she thought no one was watching. The way he softened around her, in a way I had never seen him do with anyone else.

There was love there.

A complicated, tangled kind of love.

And yet, when Yeo-jeong looked at me, I couldn’t ignore the way my chest tightened, the way my own feelings had begun to shift into something I wasn’t ready to name.

It was past midnight when it happened.

A brutal, hours-long surgery had left us drained, our bodies heavy with exhaustion as we stumbled out of the OR.

We should have gone home.

Instead, we found ourselves in the empty rooftop garden, the city stretched out in glowing lights beneath us.

Yeo-jeong leaned against the railing, rubbing a hand over his face before exhaling sharply.

“She wants to meet you.”

I blinked. “Dong-eun?”

He nodded. “She doesn’t trust easily. But she knows I do.”

Something in my chest tightened.

This was more than just an introduction. It was an invitation—into something neither of us fully understood yet.

"Okay," I said.

His lips twitched, almost like he was surprised I hadn’t hesitated. "You don’t even know what you’re agreeing to."

I stepped closer. "I know enough."

For the first time that night, he smiled. A real smile—soft, almost disbelieving.

"You’re something else," he murmured.

And then, before I could second-guess it, I reached out, my fingers brushing against his wrist. A test. A question.

He didn’t pull away.

Instead, he turned his hand over, palm up, letting my fingers slip against his.

A choice.

A beginning.

Meeting Dong-eun was like stepping into another world.

She was everything I had imagined—sharp, observant, carrying an aura of quiet intensity that made it clear she had spent years learning how to survive in a world that had never been kind to her.

She didn’t trust me. Not yet.

But she trusted Yeo-jeong.

And for now, that was enough.

The three of us fell into something unspoken, something fragile yet unbreakable.

Late nights in the hospital turned into stolen hours outside of it. Quiet conversations over coffee. Moments where lines blurred between friendship and something deeper.

I could feel it in the way Yeo-jeong's hand would linger on mine just a second too long. The way Dong-eun’s gaze would soften when she saw the way I looked at him.

We never spoke about it—not directly.

But I could feel it, thrumming beneath the surface.

A choice waiting to be made.

A step waiting to be taken.

It wasn’t a grand declaration. It wasn’t some dramatic, life-altering moment.

It was quiet. Subtle.

A late night at Yeo-jeong’s apartment, exhaustion heavy in our limbs, the space between us shrinking until there was no space left at all.

Dong-eun sat across from me, studying me with those sharp, knowing eyes before finally exhaling.

“You really want this?”

She wasn’t just asking about him.

She was asking about us.

I met her gaze, unflinching. “Yes.”

Yeo-jeong let out a quiet breath, his fingers brushing against mine where they rested on the table. Dong-eun looked at him, then back at me.

And for the first time since I had met her, she smiled.

It was small. Almost imperceptible.

But it was there.

A beginning.

And this time, there really was no turning back.

[vanilladollette]

Dating Jeon Jae-Joon would include . . . .

Jae-Joon is all about showing off his wealth, and that extends to his girlfriend.

He buys you designer clothes, expensive jewelry, and whatever catches your eye.

If he sees you admiring something, it’s yours.

Jae-Joon doesn’t share.

He has a sharp eye, and if he catches anyone looking at you the wrong way, he makes it clear that you’re his.

Expect glares, snide remarks, and sometimes even physical intimidation if someone oversteps.

He may be arrogant with others, but with you, he softens.

You’re the only one who gets to see his rare, genuine smiles and the way his tone changes when he speaks to you.

He’s affectionate in private but reserved in public.

He enjoys keeping people guessing about his true feelings, though he subtly makes it clear that you’re untouchable.

Jae-Joon isn’t the easiest man to be with.

His arrogance can be frustrating, and he doesn’t like being challenged.

But if he sees that he’s hurt you, he’ll come back in his own way—sometimes with gifts, sometimes with a gruff apology.

If anyone speaks badly about you, they’re done.

Jae-Joon doesn’t tolerate disrespect toward his woman, whether from strangers or people close to him.

Intense arguments, even more intense make-ups – When you fight, it’s fiery.

His temper flares, but so does his passion.

He can’t stay mad at you for long, and making up is always worth it.

While he’s ruthless with others, he’s different with you.

He’ll listen to your complaints, let you run your fingers through his hair when he’s stressed, and even rest his head on your lap when he’s exhausted.

Dating Jae-Joon isn’t for the faint of heart. He loves deeply, possessively, and obsessively. If you’re his, you’re his completely—there’s no in-between.

Taglist: @petersasteria

[vanilladollette]

NSFW🔞 Alphabet

A = Aftercare

Jae-joon isn’t the type to be overly soft, but he does take care of you in his own way. He’ll run a hand down your back, keep you close for a while, and maybe offer you water if he’s feeling considerate. If he really likes you, he’ll grumble about getting a warm towel but won’t admit that he enjoys taking care of you afterward.

B = Body part

On himself, he’s obsessed with his arms—his toned biceps and forearms, which flex when he grips you. On you, he loves your thighs. Whether they’re thick or slender, he loves gripping them, spreading them, or resting his head between them.

C = Cum

Jae-joon is territorial. If he can finish inside, he will—he loves the idea of claiming you in that way. If not, he prefers marking your stomach or thighs, watching the mess he made.

D = Dirty secret

He has a jealousy problem. He might act confident, but if he sees someone looking at you the wrong way, he’s thinking about taking you home and making sure you know exactly who you belong to.

E = Experience

Highly experienced. He’s had his fair share of partners, but he only bothers putting in effort when he actually wants to impress. With you, he makes sure you feel everything—he knows how to get a reaction out of you and takes his time doing it.

F = Favorite position

Face-to-face positions where he can watch your expressions—missionary, cowgirl, or even against a mirror.

From behind when he’s feeling rougher—gripping your hips, pulling your hair, and making sure you feel him deep.

G = Goofy

Not the type to crack jokes, but he’ll smirk if you’re flustered. If you try to tease him, he’ll turn it around on you—“What, you think that’s cute? You’re about to regret that.”

H = Hair

Very well-groomed. He keeps everything trimmed and neat, but he’s not completely bare. He takes pride in his appearance, so that extends everywhere. And yes, the carpet matches the drapes.

I = Intimacy

Jae-joon isn’t always the most openly affectionate, but when he’s with someone he really wants, there’s undeniable intensity. His way of being intimate is through eye contact, possessive touches, and making you feel like the only person in the world when he’s with you.

J = Jack off

He won’t admit it, but he does it more often than he should—especially when he’s frustrated. If you’re not around, he’ll do it while thinking about you, probably with something of yours nearby.

K = Kink

Possessiveness/Marking – He likes leaving hickeys, gripping too hard, and making sure you remember who you belong to.

Hair pulling – Whether it’s gripping yours or having you pull his, he loves the control shift.

Praise & Degradation – He’ll go back and forth between calling you good and wrecking you with filthy words.

Public/Semi-Public – The thrill of getting caught turns him on way more than it should.

L = Location

The bedroom is too basic for him all the time. He loves risky locations—his car, his store, the bathroom at a high-end restaurant, or anywhere he can bend you over and have his way.

M = Motivation

Jealousy. If he sees someone flirting with you, he’ll make sure you remember who you belong to later. Also, confidence—if you challenge him, he’ll take it as an invitation to ruin you.

N = No

He doesn’t like feeling out of control, so anything that puts him in a completely submissive position is a no-go. Also, he’s territorial—he’s not into sharing you with anyone else.

O = Oral

Giving? He’s cocky about it, but he’s good. He enjoys the power of making you squirm, using his tongue and fingers until you can’t take it.

Receiving? He loves it. He likes watching you work for it, especially if you look up at him while doing it.

P = Pace

Usually rough and deep—he likes making sure you feel every inch of him. If he’s feeling more affectionate, he’ll slow it down just to watch your reactions.

Q = Quickie

He’s always down for a quickie, especially if you tease him in public. He’ll pull you into a secluded spot, handle business, and act like nothing happened—except for the smirk on his face.

R = Risk

Very into risk. He enjoys the idea of getting caught, especially if it means you’re flustered and trying to act normal afterward. He lives for the thrill of it.

S = Stamina

High stamina. He can go multiple rounds, especially if he’s in the mood to prove a point. He’s not the type to stop until you’re fully satisfied—or until you physically can’t handle any more.

T = Toys

He doesn’t own many himself, but if you’re into it, he’s open to using them on you—especially if it means teasing you until you’re begging.

U = Unfair

Jae-joon is extremely unfair. He’ll tease you until you’re a mess, whispering dirty things in your ear and pulling back at the last second just to hear you beg.

V = Volume

He’s not the loudest, but he groans deep in his chest and lets out gritty curses when he’s really into it. If he’s close, expect a sharp gasp and a deep growl of your name.

W = Wild card

He loves mirrors. If he can watch you fall apart while seeing his reflection behind you, it turns him on ten times more.

X = X-ray

Above average—about 7.5 inches, AND thick. He knows how to use it, and the cocky smirk on his face when he catches you staring says it all.

Y = Yearning

High sex drive. If he wants you, he’ll make it known immediately—a firm grip on your waist, a low whisper in your ear, or a heated look that tells you exactly what’s about to happen.

Z = Zzz

He doesn’t fall asleep right away. He’ll lay back, catch his breath, and pull you into his chest. If he’s feeling smug, he’ll whisper something dirty about how good you were before finally dozing off.

Taglist: @petersasteria