Thundercloud Rainstorm
Author
CaesimPublisher
OmO fictionsBackground
Contemporary
East-Asian
Workplace
Content
First-Love
Cohabit
Contract
Status-Gap
Angst
Top
HandsomeT
ImmatureT
StrongT
RomanticT
BrattyT
ForcefulT
ChaebolT
CrankyT
CrybabyT
DevotedT
TrashT
RegretT
Bottom
HurtB
PushoverB
SufferingB
TimidB
AffectionateB
Strong-insideB
Pure-loveB
HandsomeB
DevotedB
RunawayB
One-sided-loveB
Last Update
Dec 20, 2025Editors
Beans / Cozywulfe / SJWarningThis work contains elements of dubious non-con relationship, pseudo-incest, violence, and explicit sexual content intended for adult readers only.
Overview
Jeonghan has always held the upper hand. So when he reunites with his cousin Iljo—impoverished and shunned—at his uncle’s funeral, he offers him a place to stay out of pity. But one night, Jeonghan wakes to find Iljo leaning in for a kiss. And just like that, everything starts to unravel. What began as pity soon begins to blur—and before Jeonghan realizes it, he’s the one who can’t let go.
Main Characters
Top: Seo Jeonghan Always composed, always in control. Jeonghan grew up with everything—looks, privilege, and the quiet arrogance of someone who’s never had to ask for help. Offering Iljo a place to stay was meant to be a temporary favor, a gesture of pity. But the more Iljo clings, the more Jeonghan’s possessiveness grows, testing the limits of how far that affection will go. Unwilling to name what he feels, Jeonghan takes and takes—until he realizes too late what it’s cost them both. Bottom: Kim Iljo The illegitimate son no one wanted. Ostracized by family and left with nothing after his father’s death, Iljo has known only misfortune. Quiet and easily dismissed, he seems fragile on the outside—but beneath the timid surface is someone who never hides what he feels. He falls for Jeonghan quickly, without pride or pretense. Even knowing he might get hurt, Iljo clings to the one person who looked his way. Because for Iljo, love has never been safe—but it’s the only thing he’s ever truly wanted.
Memorable Quote
Perhaps, someday, when Iljo finally saved up enough from his part-time jobs to put down a deposit and move out, we might have raised our glasses one last time, saying, "We got along pretty well, didn't we?" Over drinks, we would have smoothed over whatever small conflicts had piled up from living together. I probably would have offered to drive him to his new place in my car. With feelings very different from the day he first stepped into our house, I would have waved him off and parted ways, changing how I thought of the person named Lee Iljo. He could have become just another person that passed by in my life. But that never happened—and the reason was Lee Iljo. "What are you doing right now?" When I suddenly opened my eyes at the faint, lukewarm sensation pressing against my lips, Iljo was right there, his face far too close, stiff with guilt. His expression said it all. He couldn't even attempt to lie—caught red-handed kissing me while I slept.
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