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Late-Night Mischief (l.dh)

015. Pushing TheLuck (FINAL)

w.count: 935

The store was quieter than it had been in weeks, the lingering hum of energy from the event slowly giving way to the usual late-night stillness. Y/n stood at the counter, scanning through the reports on her tablet. Sales had surged, and the numbers were better than she could have ever hoped. She still couldn’t believe it—they’d actually saved the store.

“Not bad, huh?”

She looked up to see Haechan leaning against the doorway, his ever-present grin accompanied by a slightly smug tilt of his head. His brown hair was messy, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, and the sequined jacket he’d been wearing all night was now slung over his shoulder.

“Not bad?” she echoed, shaking her head with a smile. “This was your crazy idea, remember? I should be asking how you feel about it.”

“I feel,” he said, crossing the room to stand beside her, “like we made history.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t deny the warmth his confidence brought her. “Well, the manager was impressed. I might actually get a raise for this.”

“Finally,” Haechan said, his tone light but his eyes sincere. “You deserve it.”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, the door to the breakroom swung open, and the manager walked in.

He rarely stayed this late, but tonight was different.

“Y/n,” he said, his expression uncharacteristically warm. “I just finished looking over the numbers. You did an incredible job. The store wouldn’t have made it without your hard work.”

She blinked, surprised by the compliment. “Thank you. But it wasn’t just me—”

“No, it was you,” the manager interrupted. “You kept this place running through everything. I’m lucky to have you on the team.”

Y/n felt a rush of pride, but before she could respond, Haechan clapped his hands dramatically. “Alright, alright, enough about Y/n. We all know she’s amazing. Can we focus on the unsung hero here? Me.”

The manager chuckled before nodding toward the door. “I’ll leave you two to clean up. Great work, Y/n. And Haechan, thanks for… whatever it is you did.”

“Hey, I’ll take it,” Haechan said as the manager left, leaving the two of them alone.

They worked in comfortable silence for a while, cleaning up the last remnants of the event. Haechan swept the floor with exaggerated flair, spinning the broom like a baton, while Y/n wiped down the counters.

“Do you ever stop showing off?” she asked, laughing despite herself.

“Not when there’s an audience,” he replied, winking at her.

Eventually, the cleaning was done, and the two of them stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against their faces. The store’s neon sign flickered above them, its red and blue glow casting soft shadows on the sidewalk.

“Feels weird, doesn’t it?” Haechan said, leaning against the wall. “Knowing we actually pulled it off.”

“Yeah,” Y/n admitted, crossing her arms. “I thought I’d feel relieved, but now it’s like… what’s next?”

Haechan turned to face her, his usual playfulness replaced by something quieter. “Well, I know what’s next for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He hesitated for a moment, his hands fidgeting in his jacket pockets.

“Y/n… the store wasn’t the only reason I kept coming back, you know.”

Her heart skipped a beat, but she kept her voice steady. “What do you mean?”

He took a step closer, his gaze meeting hers. “At first, yeah, I just came in for snacks and to kill time. But then I got to know you. And the more I saw how hard you worked, how much you cared… I realized I wasn’t just showing up for the store. I was showing up for you.”

Y/n stared at him, her chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice. She wasn’t used to people being this honest with her, and it left her momentarily speechless.

“I know I’m not exactly… serious all the time,” he continued, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “But I’m serious about this. About you.”

She felt a lump rise in her throat, but she managed a small smile. “Haechan…”

He held up a hand. “If you don’t feel the same, it’s fine. I’ll still come by and annoy you every night. But I had to tell you.”

For a moment, the only sound was the faint buzzing of the neon sign above them. Then, Y/n took a step forward, closing the space between them.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said softly, her voice tinged with affection.

“Yeah, but you like it,” he replied, his grin returning as his confidence flickered back.

She didn’t respond—not with words, at least. Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft and tentative at first, but quickly deepened as they both let go of the hesitation they’d been carrying for weeks.

When they finally pulled apart, Haechan’s grin was brighter than ever. “So… does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

Y/n laughed, her cheeks flushing. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Too late,” he said, lacing his fingers with hers. “I’m pushing all the luck I’ve got.”

As they stood there under the flickering neon sign, the city moving quietly around them, Y/n felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time: hope.

The store was safe, her hard work had finally been recognized, and for the first time, she allowed herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, she deserved a little happiness too.

And with Haechan by her side, she had a feeling the late nights were only just beginning.

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angie’s note: HE DID ITTTT! HE FINALLY DID IT! WAR IS OVER!

taglist: @thegracerammy@yewshi@haefelt@pjsteroid @kodasity @minkyuncutie @hypneosis@yukisroom97

Hidden Notes (mk.l)

019. Spotlight

The night was electric. The venue was packed, the crowd a sea of faces lit by the soft glow of stage lights. Mark stood at the front of the stage, his guitar in hand, scanning the audience with a mix of nerves and excitement. His heart was pounding, but he knew that this moment—this performance—was the culmination of everything he had worked for.

Y/n sat near the front, her eyes fixed on him. She had been there for every step of his journey, through the late-night rehearsals, the doubts, the breakthroughs. But tonight, it was different. Tonight, Mark was about to perform not just for himself, but for everyone who had believed in him, for everyone who had supported him when he had almost given up. And she was right there, the person who had been his constant, watching him take this final step into the light.

The lights dimmed slightly, and a hush fell over the crowd as Mark stepped forward, his fingers gently strumming the opening chords of the song they had written together. The familiar melody filled the air, its rhythm steady and reassuring. The lyrics flowed with the same raw emotion that had first inspired them, but now, they carried a new weight—one shaped by the journey Mark had taken to get here.

Y/n’s heart swelled as she listened to Mark’s voice fill the room. She had always known how much he had to offer, how his music could touch people. But now, hearing it in front of a crowd—his crowd—felt like the realization of something more, something she had believed in from the very beginning.

Mark’s gaze flickered to her in the audience, and for a split second, the connection between them felt electric, like an unspoken conversation carried on the wings of the music. He wasn’t just performing for the crowd—he was performing for her, too.

As he reached the bridge of the song, Mark paused, his fingers resting on the guitar strings. The crowd waited, breathless. He stepped up to the microphone, his voice cutting through the silence.

“I want to take a moment before I finish this song,” he began, his tone filled with quiet sincerity. “This next part of my journey wouldn’t have been possible without one person. There’s someone here tonight who inspired me to keep going, someone who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself.”

The audience murmured, intrigued by the unexpected pause in the performance. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in surprise as Mark’s gaze locked with hers.

“This song,” he continued, “the one you’re about to hear, was born out of something old, something I thought was lost forever. It’s a story about rediscovering who you are and finding the courage to move forward. And I owe it to Y/n, who brought me back to my music when I had forgotten why it mattered in the first place.”

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the crowd erupted into applause. She felt her cheeks flush, but there was no mistaking the warmth that spread through her chest. Mark had just publicly credited her—his inspiration, his muse—for everything he had accomplished.

His voice softened, his gaze never leaving hers. “This song is for you, Y/n. For everything you’ve given me.”

A lump formed in Y/n’s throat, and she swallowed hard, her heart swelling with pride. She had never expected this, but hearing those words coming from him—coming from someone whose music had meant so much—was more than she could have imagined.

Mark continued, his fingers beginning to move again as the melody swelled. He played the final verse with a passion that was raw and unapologetic, every word a testament to his journey, to the trust they had built together.

The crowd cheered as the song came to an end, their applause reverberating through the venue. Mark stood there, his chest rising and falling with the emotion of the performance. For a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the sound of their appreciation, but his eyes were still on Y/n, a silent thank-you passing between them.

When the noise died down, Mark spoke again, his voice thick with emotion. “I wouldn’t be here without you, Y/n. You helped me rewrite the story I thought was finished. And I’m not done yet.”

Y/n felt a tear slip down her cheek, but she didn’t wipe it away. She was overwhelmed, not just by his words, but by the sheer depth of what they meant. He wasn’t just talking about the music. He was talking about everything—the way they had both grown, the way they had helped each other heal. They had both come to life again, in different ways, and they had done it together.

Mark lowered his guitar and gave her one last smile before he turned back to the microphone. “Thank you, everyone. This night is special to me, and I hope you’ll keep listening.”

The crowd cheered once more, but Y/n’s heart was still with the words he had spoken to her. He had finally found his place on that stage, and in doing so, he had given her something she would never forget.

As Mark exited the stage to a chorus of applause, he made his way directly toward Y/n, his expression soft but filled with purpose. He didn’t speak as he reached her; instead, he simply took her hand, his fingers warm and steady.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice low.

Y/n nodded, her emotions overwhelming her in the best way. “Yeah. I’m more than okay. I’m proud of you.”

Mark’s smile deepened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

They stood there for a moment, just the two of them, surrounded by the cheers and the noise of the crowd. But in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of them—two people who had helped each other find their way back to something they loved.

Y/n realized, as Mark’s hand gently squeezed hers, that this was just the beginning. Not just for Mark, but for both of them. They had rewritten the story of their lives, together, and nothing could change the bond they shared now.

The hidden notes, the unfinished lyrics, the doubts and the struggles—they had all led them here, to this moment of truth, of connection. And as they walked off into the night, hand in hand, Y/n knew one thing for certain: whatever came next, they would face it together.

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angie’s note: that shoutouttt my gawd!!!

taglist: @thegracerammy@kittydollzz@nmlee@haluenx

kitchen nightmares (s.jn)

023. cornered W.C: 912

The restaurant felt like a pressure cooker, with everyone trapped inside, sweating under the heat. Each shift dragged heavier than the last, and the looming shadow of the shiny new competitor down the block hung over them like a thundercloud. The steady stream of customers had become a trickle, and the tension in the kitchen was suffocating, ready to boil over at any second.

For Johnny, it already had.

Y/n could see it in the way his shoulders were constantly tense, in the clipped tone of his voice, and in the sharp, icy edges of his words. He wasn’t just snapping at her; he was snapping at everyone. But somehow, when she tried to help, to take even a fraction of the weight off his back, he shoved her away like her presence was only making things worse.

And those words of his—they stuck.
“You don’t understand what’s at stake. You can’t.”

She replayed them more times than she cared to admit, their sting burrowing into her thoughts long after they’d been said. It wasn’t just the frustration in his voice—it was something deeper, rawer. And even though she knew the words were laced with fear, they still cut her.

That afternoon, she found refuge in the break room. Karina, Haechan, and Jeno were already there, each unwinding in their own way. Karina, as always, was the first to pick up on Y/n’s red-rimmed eyes and the tight line of her shoulders.

“Okay,” Karina said, putting her phone down and turning her full attention to Y/n. “Spill. What’s going on?”

Y/n sank into the chair with a heavy sigh, gratefully accepting the cup of tea Karina handed her. “It’s just… impossible. I get that he’s stressed and all, but it’s like everything I do is wrong. I tried to help, and he basically called me useless.”

Karina’s brows knit together, her protective instincts flaring up. “He said that?”

“Not in those exact words,” Y/n admitted, swirling her tea, “but… close enough.”

Haechan, ever the investigator, leaned back in his chair with a sly smirk. “Sounds like someone’s overthinking. Maybe he’s losing his mind because he knows you’re right.”

“Haechan,” Karina scolded in her best mom voice, but Jeno nodded thoughtfully.

“He’s scared,” Jeno said simply, his quiet tone carrying weight. “The way he’s acting? It’s not about you, Y/n. It’s because he feels like he’s failing.”

Y/n frowned, letting his words sink in. “Then why push everyone away? Why make it harder than it already is?”

“Pride,” Karina said, crossing her arms over her chest. “He’s always been like this. But Jeno’s right—he’s scared. Still doesn’t excuse him, though.”

“Maybe he’s afraid if he apologizes, he’ll start crying,” Haechan quipped, dramatically pretending to sniffle.

Karina shot him a withering glare, but Y/n let out a small, weak laugh, feeling some of the tension in her chest ease just a little.

Meanwhile, in the quiet kitchen, Leeteuk and Heechul had cornered Johnny. His arms were crossed, his face set in a hard line.

“Johnny,” Leeteuk began, his voice steady.

“Whatever you’re doing,” Heechul cut in sharply, “stop.”

Johnny turned away, his jaw tightening. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know exactly what the fuck we are talking about,” Heechul countered, his tone sharp as a knife.

Leeteuk placed a calming hand on Heechul’s shoulder before stepping forward. “You’re snapping at everyone, shutting people out, and now you’re taking it out on Y/n.”

At her name, Johnny’s shoulders went stiff, but he stayed silent.

“Do you really think you’re the only one who cares about this place?” Leeteuk pressed, his voice firm but calm. “Pushing people away isn’t going to solve anything.“

“Newsflash: it’s making things worse. And if you keep this up,” Heechul added harshly, meeting Johnny’s eyes with a steady glare, “you’ll lose more than this restaurant. And you’ll deserve it.”

Johnny’s head snapped up at that, a mix of guilt and defiance flashing across his face.

Leeteuk softened his tone as he stepped closer. “Talk to her, Johnny. She’s not your enemy. None of us are.”

Johnny didn’t respond, but their words lingered, carving deep into his thoughts. He wasn’t sure which fear gripped him harder: losing the restaurant or losing the one person who still mattered to him.

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angie’s note: hiiiiiii, please don’t kill me for being absent :(((((

taglist: @thegracerammy@neocupidd@pjsteroid@peterm4rker @pandagirl753 (lemme know it you’d like to be tagged <3)

Next week will be full of updates and a new fic 👀👀👀