#backseat boyz

[mulletcowboy]

TRENT ACID by WHACKS

[sugardunkerton]

A classic never dies. 🙏🏿

[epsileo]

conversation that my friend and i had that I, for one, thought was hilarious!

[astrae4]

HAN TAESAN | happy wife, happy life

pairings — idol!han dongmin x idol!reader

warnings — hanging joke, saying marriage but not actually married yet(?)

genre — FLUFF & romance hehe (wc. 789)

note — mentally not the best so im rlly inconsistent but it’s okay for now guys 😎👍 if u have any requests i’d be very happy to make it for u 😘😘 plspls like repost n follow 🙌

more works — navigation | bnd!masterlist

DING! DING! DING!

The buzzing notification sounds echoed loudly in a busy cafe, making some customers look at the victim responsible for these noises.

Said victim hurries to turn their notification sounds off, before checking his messages—only to see 6 missed calls and 14 messages from ‘manager 😫🔥’.

manager 😫🔥: WHERE ARE YOU???

manager 😫🔥: WE’RE THREE HOURS LATE ALREADY!!!!

you: im On the Way!

you: gimme a bit

manager 😫🔥: dont lie. I literally see your location and it isn’t moving AT ALL.

you: okay im actually almost done.

you: seriously, the line’s almost over

you: [picture attached]

manager 😫🔥: fine. Come back faster! We need to hurry up to isac bc u guys already missed the track comp.

you: 👍👍

“Order 1140, Mr. Woonhak!” Called a server.

Nobody reacted to that call for a few seconds, before the 180-ish-cm man jolted, remembering that he was supposedly Woonhak.

(Ever put a name in your order and forgot about it? Yeah, it happens to me all the time.)

“Here!” He replied, coming to the counter in a hurry.

“Matcha cake with pink frosting and custom lettering?” They asked to be sure.

“Yes, thank you so much!” Replied “Mr. Woonhak” as he takes the takeaway-boxed cake and hurried out the door.

He practically jumped in the car (gracefully though) with how fast he was going.

“Yah!” shouted Woonhak, “why’d you take so long!?”

“Don’t you see the line?” Replied Taesan, his eye rolling as he holds the cake with care.

“Yeah but why do we have to go get this cake? Just get it at any other bakery so we wouldn’t be late to ISAC—we already missed the track race!”

Someone (Leehan) suddenly sat up from the backseat, glasses crooked on his head as if he just woke up (he did), “That’s because it’s y/n’s favorite cake.”

“Yeah Woonhak,” butted another menace (jaehyun), “It’s their 2nd anniversary— but of course youuuu wouldn’t understand since you’ve never had a woman’s touch before other than your mom and sister.”

“YAH!” screamed Woonhak.

Thus, another bonekdo quarrel emerge.

(Woonhak lost once again. Give me a dab in the comments; one dab = one hp for our maknae’s patience)

EXCLUSIVE: BOYNEXTDOOR’S TAESAN MISTAKES ISAC FOR WE GOT MARRIED?

In the ISAC 2024, k-pop boy band BOYNEXTDOOR (under KOZ) arrives 5 hours late to the venue, earning some attention from netizens. Onedoors (Boynextdoor’s fans) called them hilarious, especially with that spectacular entrance, consisting of the members wearing sunglasses and strutting in the building as if they won the games (they will then lose really badly in archery) in a proud manner.

Despite the many games and groups competing in the games, what went most viral was surprisingly not sports-related, and we’re here to tell you the scoop!

Boynextdoor’s Taesan is widely known for dating [reader] of [group name] since the very beginning of their debuts. They also went trending many times for that—like a fresh breeze in the very tense atmosphere of idol-relationships. This time, it seems that Taesan decided to take it up a notch with his display of public affection and prove to everyone that romance is very much not dead!

Running in the building—and then sliding on his knees to stop in front of [reader]’s view—before procuring a bouquet of pink lilies for her all the while his very supportive members threw confetti at them!? Gosh, me when! After that, he also gave [reader] an exclusive cake from [reader’s favorite cake shop] to celebrate what seemed to be their 2nd year Anniversary.

Other idols in the building such as ZEROBASEONE and THE BOYZ’s Younghoon gave their support by cheering on the couple—as well as many others. Later on, it was even said by Zerobaseone’s Gunwook jokingly in his group’s vlog that he was jealous of their relationship, haha!

When asked about it later on in a live, Taesan responded that it was simply because it was their anniversary, and he wanted to make it special for them. In addition, he said a catchphrase that went viral— saying “Happy wife, happy life”, despite them not being married yet. [reader’s group] have not yet responded to this statement.

Many netizens are reacting to this viral video, saying that it’s so fresh and sweet of them two—some even joking and saying that “I’m the guy h*nging in the lights behind them” (source) in Tiktok and Instagram. All in all, netizens seem to think that it’s extremely sweet and wishes them both to remain happy and strong in the relationship!

What do you think about it?

Comments (19.99) | open

More related searches… BOYNEXTDOOR comeback September 25 | Sungho’s so hot in the new concept photo: twenty ver.

TAGLIST @ja4hyvn @flwoie @sulkygyu @xiaoderrrr @ineedaherosavemeenow @lonewolfjinji @teddywonss @taerae-verse

NETWORKS @onedoornet @k-labels

© astrae4 2024 | please don’t copy, translate, or plagiarize my works on all platforms!

[rrxnjun]

dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck

pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader starring. uchinaga aeri genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos word count. 24k (24.047) a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3

playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor

there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.

✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲

If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.

See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.

And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man. 

The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase

Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.

you – what the fuck

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching

you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today

Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior. 

Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.

“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.

“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.

“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.

“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly. 

“Mhm! See you later!” 

Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.

The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.

What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure. 

So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.

“Don’t laugh.”

“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.

“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?” 

Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.

“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”

“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom). 

Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”

And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.

You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom. 

And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.

“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”

And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame? 

“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.

“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next. 

“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”

“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.

“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.

“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.

“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”

“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.

“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”

The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door. 

Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.

“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right

Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.

you – what do u want

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!! lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car 

Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.

you – yes 

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands

you – im sleeping

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request

Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…

you – what do u want hyuck its late

lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home

And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.

Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.

“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless. 

“Lee Donghyuck.”

“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.

“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion. 

There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”

Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”

“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”

“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?

“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”

“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”

“Y/N!”

The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.

You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.

Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off. 

The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there. 

And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.

So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year. 

Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.

“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.

“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”

“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap. 

“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.

“What do you mean, no?” 

Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”

Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”

“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.

“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”

Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.

Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.

“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.

“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.

“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.

He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing. 

“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”

There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”

“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.

“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”

“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”

“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.

“That was nothing–”

“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”

“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.

“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.

“Anything?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.

“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”

Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.

“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.

“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves. 

“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”

“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”

“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall. 

His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”

“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”

“No.”

“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.

“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging. 

“Why?”

“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.

“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”

“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.

“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.

You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried. 

“Why don’t you try something on?” 

“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.

“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.

“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.

“Separate–”

“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.

“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.

“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.

“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.

“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.

“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.

“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.

“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”

“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”

“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.

“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”

At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.

“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.

“Yeah,” still, you agree.

“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body. 

“Hey–”

“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp. 

He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”

“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.

“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.

“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.

“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.

Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.

“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.

“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”

“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.

“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.

“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”

“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”

“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.

“Are you even being serious right now–”

“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”

The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”

In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak. 

Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.

“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.

“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”

Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.

This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.

You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth. 

“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway. 

“Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”

The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”

“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.

“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.

“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male. 

“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”

“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”

“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.

“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”

“I would rather die than to marry him–”

“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”

The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly). 

“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.

“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”

“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”

“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”

“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.

“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”

“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.

“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.

“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.

“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”

That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.

“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.

“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”

“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”

“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.

“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”

Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”

“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.

“Hm?”

“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.

“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.

Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”

“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap. 

“How do you know that I have seen it already?”

“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.

Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways… 

But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.

Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.

But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.

He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.

What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact. 

He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.

He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.

A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.

“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep. 

“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.

dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds

you – well hello to you too you – no.

dongfuck – >:( dongfuck – please

you – its 2am dude

dongfuck – your point..?

Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair. 

“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.

“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.

Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”

“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”

“Who said I’m paying?”

“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance. 

“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.

“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought. 

Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.

After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.

You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger. 

Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”

“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?” 

“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”

“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.

“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well. 

“Now what?” he asks.

“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.

“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.

“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.

“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”

Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”

“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong? 

So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.

“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”

“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”

“I can.”

“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.

“Positive.”

“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems  absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.

“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.” 

“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.

“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”

“Oh. My. God.” 

“Don’t panic!”

“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.

“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.

His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”

“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.

Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.

“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.

“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual. 

The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.

Do you really need to drive a fucking manual? 

hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8

Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.

“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.

“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.

“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”

“I so did not–”

“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.

“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.

“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.

“When did I say that? When did I say that!” 

“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.” 

“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.

“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.” 

Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.

you – can’t

He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.

hyuck – why

you – cuz im going you – and i wanna drink you – so i cant drive

hyuck – ok that changes things then hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose hyuck – see you there ;)

Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.

“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”

“Ay ay, captain!”

The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house. 

When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.

Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.

But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.

You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.

And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.

The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.

This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game. 

“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.

“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”

She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game. 

“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.

“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”

“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.

Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will. 

This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game. 

Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.

Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares. 

“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend. 

“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”

“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.

“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.” 

The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth. 

“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.

You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.

“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?” 

You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.

Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.

But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.

Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer. 

“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident. 

“Yeah, no-”

“Oh, come on-” 

“That’s a lie-”

Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.

“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.  

“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him. 

“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.

“That’s a cop out!”

“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.

“Not even Hyuck?” 

Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one. 

You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.

“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.

“Was that my name I heard?” 

And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.

Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will–  you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.

“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears. 

“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.

“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.

“You don’t seem amused.”

“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.

“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”

An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable. 

Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car. 

Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.

To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now. 

You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.

“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”

You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you. 

You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated. 

You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.

You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening. 

hyuck – drive me to a date hyuck – please ig 

Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.

It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there. 

And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.

you – ok text me when you’re ready 

After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.

“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.

“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”

Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.

“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.

“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself. 

“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.

Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.

The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.

“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his. 

“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”

“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”

“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.

“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now. 

“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there. 

And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems. 

Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”

“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”

He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.

“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view. 

The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.

Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”

“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself. 

This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”

“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–” 

You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.

“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.

“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”

“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.

“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”

“Would you go if I asked, then?”

“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself. 

“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension. 

Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”

He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.

Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.

And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.

His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.

He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms. 

You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.

“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.

“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?” 

Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.

Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation. 

“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face. 

“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).

“Make me,” he challenges.

“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.

“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.

Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.

You’ll worry about the consequences later.

“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.

“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.

“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.

“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?

“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.

You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.

Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.

And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity? 

Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.

And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse. 

“Are we done here?” 

“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t. 

“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester. 

A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all. 

You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.

“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.

“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.

“Why?” he asks.

Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.

“Hear what?”

“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.

“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.

“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.

“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”

Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.

Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.

Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.

There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen. 

A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful. 

Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?

There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later. 

There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library. 

There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage. 

The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.

Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more. 

There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?

If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?

“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”

You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.

“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”

“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.

“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.

“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.

“How does that roadtrip sound right now?” 

“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note. 

“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.

Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH4] PICK UP THE PHONE!

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST] [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

very slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this chapter; none

chapter wc: 9.5k / comment on this post for taglist!

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unable to tag: @jenojenoyes

[a/n]: merry early christy mass

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.

.

“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.

The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”

“All of what,” Jaemin asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”

Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”

For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere. Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later at Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed. 

If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted. 

“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”

“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Her truth or drink question. To be specific.”

Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d properly seen you in nearly a year. He’d shown up at Mark’s parents house with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room he used to spend every afternoon in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and your brother to come down.

And he’s not proud of this, but. Well.

Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, finding his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d been expecting a bigger reaction. 

He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in high school you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him. 

And he remembers being… confused.

That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.

“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”

“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin says. The uneasy beat that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno wholeheartedly preferred the silence over actually listening to this conversation. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”

“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”

“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin replies sharply. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right? It’s hard to imagine—”

“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”

Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”

Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut short. “Is Y/N a human being to you?”

A stunned second passes.

“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own fucking apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”

Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. Mark’s little sister. It hits Jeno like a punch; his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt. Guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother. 

That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently chided. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”

“I know that,” Jaemin says quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”

They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs. 

“She found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time,” he supplies, unable to ignore Donghyuck’s scolded pouting. “Sometime while you guys were off getting wood for the campfire.” 

Perking up a little in the backseat, Donghyuck tentatively asks, “At… At the lake house?” 

And, having foolishly assumed the reprimand would've ended this conversation, Jeno almost wants to slam his head against the headrest when Jaemin nods and he realizes they're not done talking about you. He feels raw; sensitive and uncomfortable and combative. It's residual from what just happened with you, he knows that, and he also knows saying something will probably just draw attention he does not want, but he still can't help but blurt; “Do you really need to hear the details, man?” 

He’s not sure who he surprises more by the edge in his voice: himself or the other two. Both turn to look at Jeno like he’s just magically appeared in the vehicle.

Donghyuck is so caught off guard by the distaste that he actually rocks back a little bit in his seat.

“I’m not asking for those kinds of details!” he exclaims, scandalized. “I just want to know how it went down beforehand, because as far as I remember, they were the perfect picture of normalcy on that trip! Jaemin was a little sulkier than normal because of the whole girlfriend-breaking-up-with-him thing, but he perked up after, like…”

Donghyuck trails off. Then after a very long second he gasps, sounding almost appalled, forgetting Jeno again immediately.

“When we came back from camping because it started raining, you were like a totally different person. It was then, wasn’t it? You and her stayed back. I remember being worried that you were going to bore her to death if she ever came out of her room. Holy shit, dude, don’t tell me you guys planned—”

Jaemin whirls around. “Do you think I’m completely crazy?”

“Well how am I supposed to know, when you won’t tell us anything?!”

“You really want to know so badly?” Jaemin says, fed up. No, Jeno thinks uselessly.

“Earlier in the afternoon Y/N heard me on the phone with Jurin and figured something was wrong. She came over to talk to me about it and I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, so we tried to make each other feel better— Verbally," Jaemin tells, pointedly adding the last word when Donghyuck's eyebrows jump in scandal. "The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”

“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”

Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. Hyuck nearly topples out of his seat.

“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”

“Pothole,” Jeno bites. 

He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort.

“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”

“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”

Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand me, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”

“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”

“I’m serious,” Jaemin continues darkly. “You can laugh about it all you want, but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out and I am not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating. Keep your mouth shut.”

Donghyuck is still muttering to himself, rubbing bitterly at the spot where Jaemin sniped him.

He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. Or maybe that’s just what Jeno hopes he’s doing, because a younger him could have used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt. 

But Donghyuck simply says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death if he finds out you slept with his sister.”

And on that very positive note, Jeno flicks his turn signal on and coasts into the lane that’ll take him right back to SNU.

It’s four days later, Jeno hasn’t seen you once in that span of time, and he’s beginning to think it’s driving him a little insane, because he’s been staring pathetically at a photo of you on Mark’s fridge for the last five minutes. You’re mid-laugh and you’ve got one arm tight around Mark’s neck— you’re both on the beach, jeans rolled up to your knees, and your hair is a startling, bright red.

Back in highschool, when you were a junior and he was a senior, you’d had a short lived obsession with dying your hair. Mark had mentioned it to him in passing, recalling the half a dozen conversations he’d witnessed of you trying to convince your parents to let you bleach it, but he hadn’t really thought about it too seriously until he was over at Mark’s house to work on a project a few weeks later. Your brother, who’s brain stopped working properly when he was hungry, tapped out after about fifteen minutes to hit the convenience store a few blocks away for a pint of ice cream and a few energy drinks. 

It was only after the front door slammed shut that Jeno even realized you were home; he was slouched in Mark’s desk chair scrolling listlessly through his phone when he heard the bedroom door creak open, and turned around expecting your brother. It was not your brother.

It was you. Standing in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights as your eyes met, dressed in a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top, hair slicked down to your head with cherry red dye— it was all over your hands, splattered down your neck, an artful blob on the tip of your nose.

The two of you stared at each other for what felt like minutes. He hadn’t seen you this close for a few weeks now, since this was around the time that you’d started hanging out with your friends more and were rarely ever home. That was what he blamed for the way his brain seemed to start buffering at the sight of you.

“Are you okay?” he finally asked.

You stood up straight and hid your hands behind your back like he hadn’t already seen them in all their bloody glory, and said, “I thought you… Left. Just now. With Mark.”

“I didn’t,” he replied. You stared at each other some more. Then, because he wasn’t quite sure what else to do and he’s never really been good at reading a room, he said,“You missed a bit, there. On the top.”

You stiffened, and then your whole body slumped like he’d cut your strings with those eight words alone. “I know. Mark has a little mirror in here somewhere that I was going to steal while he was gone, because I didn’t realize until it was too late that I couldn't see the back of my own head.”

And somehow this ended up with Jeno standing behind you in your bathroom, dutifully brushing red goo into your scalp as you fidgeted and twitched and tried to pretend you weren’t staring at him in the mirror, even though it was very obvious that you were. Jeno pretended, like he’d been doing for the last three years, that he didn’t notice— even if he was finding it a little harder than normal to not stare right back.

Back then, he chalked up his jitters to all of the physical things that were happening in that moment. He credited his desire to stand a little closer to you than necessary to the pleasant scent of cherry coming from the dye in your hair, and blamed the uneven straps on your tank top for the reason his eyes kept drifting to the curve of your shoulders. He was hyper-focusing on the tiny beauty mark below your ear not because he found it fascinating, but because it was easier to keep his eyes trained on that than to risk forgetting what he was doing and finding your eyes in the mirror.

When the dye ran out and your head was sufficiently gooped, he’d been gearing up to ask if you needed help washing it out too, when the sound of the garage door opening whispered through the house and you stiffened. In an instant you were plucking the empty dye bowl from his hands and then herding him out of your bathroom— startled, he turned around to mention his sweater, only to find it flying at his chest with enough force to knock him back against the hallway wall. Your eyes were huge as you stood in the bathroom doorway, hand already on the door as if already positioning to slam it shut.

“Don’t tell Mark you helped me,” you said quickly, before blinking very hard a few times, “And— Thank you? This probably would have turned out like shit if you didn’t offer to help me. Thanks.”

Downstairs, the front door opened. Jeno stood there with his balled up sweatshirt in his hands suddenly feeling very odd. Only later did he realize that feeling was hesitance. He didn’t want to go yet. “Why can’t I tell him?” he asked.

“Because Mark’s going to freak out when he sees me, and I don’t want him to get mad at you too for, like, being an accessory to my crime.”

“An accessory to your what?”

“Oh,” you said belatedly. Then you raised your eyebrows at him, lip quirking into an innocent smile that felt like anything but, and his stomach twisted. “Might’ve said too much.”

Your brother's voice rang up the stairs and Jeno made the mistake of turning towards the landing. By the time he turned back to you, mouth opening to speak— even though he wasn’t even sure what he was planning to say— he only caught the last glimpse of your red stained hand through the shutting the door.

Mark returned a few moments later to find Jeno sitting back in the desk chair, back to peering into his phone, but what he probably didn’t notice was that Jeno was really staring at the little, cherry colored splotch on his palm.

Back then he hadn’t known yet, just what he was feeling. He didn’t put two and two together to realize why whenever he’d see the color red in the corner of his eye at school after that, he’d turn around in the middle of a conversation to see if you were passing by; why, when the school strong-armed you into dying it back to its natural color a few days later, the missing cherry red had bothered him more than he could justify. It took him another few months to really get it.

“No-Jam! Dude, did you get lost in there or something? The cola is in the little—The bin thing! In the back!”

Mark’s voice pitches over the rest of his friends' muffled bickering and right through the memory he’s sunk into, and he tears his eyes away from the fridge to remember who he is and what he’s supposed to be doing right now. 

It’s movie night. He’s been put in charge of drinks now that the take-out has arrived, and yet he’s malingering in the kitchen like some kind of sad voyeur. Right. 

He snatches the cans and shuts the door a little harder than necessary, if only to get away from that photo of you faster. The conversation he returns to isn’t much different than the one he’d left; initially it was Chucky versus Annabelle, now when he sits the rack of soda on the coffee table and sinks back down between Jaemin and Jisung, it’s Jason versus Michael. Hyuck is ripping his hair out trying to explain that Michael is a borderline mutant and therefore obviously the winner in this bracket, and per usual, Chenle is completely unbothered and arguing the opposite solely to raise their friend’s blood pressure.

This would usually be Jeno’s pre-movie entertainment, chiming in with the occasional fact check to keep the sides even, but tonight he can’t focus on their debate. Instead, his eyes drift towards the clock on Mark’s TV stand. 

7:06. He frowns. 

“Where is Little Lee, by the way? Out getting into trouble?”

It’s embarrassing how quickly Jeno snaps back to attention at the sound of your nickname.

Mark shrugs in response, completely unbothered, even though Jeno is almost boring holes into the side of Mark’s head waiting for an answer to Renjun's question. “She’s at dance practice. Been at it all week for her showcase, and it goes real late. She should be back in about an hour if you’re looking for her.”

“Not looking,” Renjun says, “Only noticed she hasn’t been around. What showcase?”

“Goodness,” Jaemin coos. “My hard worker. Saw her this morning on my way to chem, looked a little like death, eyes all dark and broody. I guess that's why?”

“She leaves in the morning before I do, too. Probably dead tired.”

Mark tries to return to scrolling through Netflix’s catalog but Renjun, not satiated, flaps his hand in front of his face. “Wait, but what showcase, though? I didn’t even know anything was coming up. The school is hosting something?”

“Not the school,” Jisung offers instead. He sounds oddly eager to talk about it, and for a second Jeno is rattled by the idea of Jisung paying enough attention to you to know the intricacies of your schedule, until he realizes it’s the topic he’s excited about. “It’s this thing called the Aegon Showcase, a big competition for unknown hip-hop dancers. It’s a nationwide thing so it’s broken up into different showcases in every province, and there technically aren’t supposed to be favorites, because talent is like, everywhere, but pretty much everyone knows that the Seoul competition is the most popular. It’s pretty difficult to get chosen for Seoul, and yet Y/N’s team got in. They even air it on TV.”

Chenle whistles. “I knew about the competition, but I didn’t know all that. That sounds like a big deal.”

He remembers how sheepish you’d been when Somi told them in his car; the awfully shy look he’d caught on your face when your eye met in the mirror. 

“It is a big deal!” Jisung declares, sounding proud. “Yonsei hasn’t been on the roster since 2016, so the guys in my hip-hop class are pretty excited about it. There’s posters up in all the hallways of the performance building and noona’s name is all over them. Jeongsob nearly knocked my head off when he found out I had a ticket to see it live, and I didn’t even tell him it was center house because I thought he’d really hit me.”

“A ticket?” Renjun’s spine straightens indignantly. “From where? When was this an option? I want to go!”

Jisung’s shrug is interrupted by the loud smack of Donghyuck’s mouth as he swallows a swig of his soda. “This is how I know you don’t read my messages.”

“What?”

“I sent you the ticket, loser. I sent everyone the ticket like, a week ago.”

“Where the hell did you get them?”

A beat of silence as Donghyuck stares at him, before he realizes Renjun is serious and begins to whine. “So you don’t read my messages or listen to me. Somi. Jeon Somi! Rockstar’s little blonde bestie pulled some strings and gave us all tickets. Gave the rest of us tickets, should I specify, since Y/N-ie doesn’t love us and only got one for Mark.” 

The Mark in question only hums proudly. 

“Right up in front,” Donghyuck continues. “All she’d tell me is that they’re opening with DNA.”

“By BTS?”

Chenle scoffs. “By Kendrick Lamar. My God. Listen to something other than Seoul Top 50.”

“Their tracklist must be stacked if they’re opening with Lamar,” Jisung adds, awed.

Jeno has never really seen you dance before. It’s something he’s always known about you, sure, but only through word of mouth; He knew you started dancing because of Mark, since your brother has been telling the story to anyone who would listen for half a decade. How you were dragged along to his lesson one day, bitter about missing out on an afternoon of Guitar Hero for some ‘lousy physical activity’, when the dance teacher happened to notice how quickly you’d been picking up on the moves. She convinced you to come to another, and then another, until you ended up attending those classes more often than Mark did.

Those lessons had been before you and Mark transferred to their school though. Mark dropped dance to pick up basketball, which meant Jeno didn’t hear much about it from him, and while you kept up with it, it wasn’t like the two of you were close enough to talk about things like that. 

So it simply stayed a fun-fact. A topic only brought up in passing, like Mark randomly mentioning a competition you had one weekend, or apologizing for being late because he had to pick you up from a lesson across town.

A topic only brought up in passing until the next words that fall out of your brother's mouth.

“That’s the type of music she dances to all the time though,” Mark says belatedly. “Kendrick Lamar I mean. She has like, four or five videos on Youtube from that album alone. It was her favorite for a while.”

“She has videos on youtube?” Jeno blurts. 

The world pauses. Or it feels that way to him, since he hadn’t even registered the ending of Mark’s sentence before his own mouth was opening without his permission. It’s the first words he’s spoken in nearly half an hour and it shows in how they all glance at him, varying from brief confusion to clear interest in his sudden curiosity— and he instantly wants to kick himself considering that the latter comes from Jaemin, who’s already suspicious that he’s hiding something.

Mark furrows his eyebrows, staring back at Jeno like your presence on youtube is just supposed to be common knowledge. 

“I never told you guys? Freshman year of highschool, she had this channel she’d upload all her dance class videos to. Mostly just for progress, to see how she improved, but I guess they must’ve hit some weird algorithm or something because the videos actually ended up doing super well.”

“Rockstar is famous?” Jaemin asks.

Mark scratches his chin. “Subjectively, I guess so. I meant doing well as in like, a dozen of the videos have broken a hundred thousand views, but subscriber wise she’s not—”

Donghyuck chokes so violently on his cola that it sounds like he’s being waterboarded. Instinctually Jisung starts to pat his back, but even he looks surprised; not that Jeno is confused by why. A hundred thousand? 

The second that Donghyuck is able to form words again he all but demands Mark pull up her channel on the TV, which is when he finally seems to realize the predicament he’s put you in. All of your older brothers' friends. Watching your old highschool videos. Without your knowledge. Any little sister’s waking nightmare.

Mark tries to backtrack; ‘Ah, well, the whole reason she stopped uploading was because she got embarrassed about all the attention. She’d seriously kill me if she knew I showed you guys.’  But Hyuck only grins. ‘You damned yourself to that the second you mentioned it at all, tiger. You know I’ll just find it on my own if you don't, right? I’ve got resources!’

Doubtful. Donghyuck can’t even find files on his own computer, much less sift through the entire internet for a few six year old videos from a person that’s no longer uploading. Even though Mark doesn’t look fully convinced, glancing warily between his phone and the clock like he’s worried you’ll walk through the door the second he picks up the remote, Jeno knows he’ll fold. He always does.

We shouldn’t, he could say to help. Y/N wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t. 

He would’ve a month ago. Maybe even a week ago. 

But right now he’s mortifyingly desperate to see you again, even if it’s only through the glass of a screen. So he does nothing but swallow his shame when Mark sighs, “One video. One! And if she finds out, dude, I’m telling her it was you!” and snatches the remote from the coffee table. He does nothing when Mark scrolls through the seemingly endless list of people he’s subscribed to, and he continues to do nothing when you blip to life on the television, Xx_SGirl2002_xX’s youtube channel.

Mark presses play on the first video there is, the last thing ever uploaded to your account— a three-minute clip titled ‘Kiss Kiss - Chris Brown, (J’HO’s ADV class)’ with ninety-eight thousand views. 

Jeno knows it’s 2016 from the date in the description but for some reason he’s still startled by how young you are here. This is how you looked when he met you, and its a whiplash he isn't prepared for. Fourteen years old with a glare that could cut down grown men. You have on a baseball cap that Jeno recognizes because it actually belongs to Mark, and an oversized t-shirt over a pair of green sweatpants (that Jeno also recognizes, because you wore them around your house all the time in high school)— but there’s no time to get into the intricacies of your outfit because soon enough the beat kicks in and Donghyuck is squealing like this is his favorite song.

You’re dancing with four others who look just as confident as you, bouncing on their feet before the choreo starts, but it immediately becomes clear why you’re in the front. Your movement is so natural that Jeno would’ve thought you were freestyling if it wasn’t for the others you’re on beat with, easily capturing the center of attention with your style— though he knows you’re not intending to. 

That’s how you’ve always been. The brightest person in the room, without even realizing it.

It’s not as surprising as he expects it to be. Despite never having seen you attempt to dance in front of him in your life, he’d somehow always known you were going to be this good. It’s familiarity probably that keeps his eyes on you, even when the videos go on and on and on and new dancers filter in and out of the choreographies. He’s only made aware of how blatantly he’s ignoring everyone else in your videos when Jisung excitedly points out that he recognizes one guy you’re dancing with, some famous popper in the hip-hop circuit, and Jeno has to drag his eyes away from you to even realize you’re dancing with a man in the first place. 

Too engrossed in showing you off now to remember why he’d been so hesitant in the first place, Mark, obviously, fails to stick to his word. They’re on video four or five when there’s the very, very sudden sound of the front door handle rattling. 

It’s mere dumb luck that Mark manages to scramble for the remote fast enough to mute the TV before you get the door open. It’s even luckier that you wander into the apartment with both your headphones in and your eyes squinted at something on your phone. It’s just enough time for them to all assume the picture of perfect innocence when you do finally look up— appearing almost startled by the sight of them all staring at you with wide eyes, silent and still like a bunch of weeping angels.

Jeno for an entirely different reason than the rest of them, however.

“Hello… all?” you greet, clearly suspicious, but you can’t seem to put your finger on the reason they’re all looking at you, and this makes the whole room seem to relax. 

“You’re late, Rockstar,”  Jaemin says, playfully scolding, “Take-out’s gone cold.”

“I ate before practice. What are you guys doing?”

“Is it not obvious? Movie night, of course!”

There’s a beat as you glance at the TV behind their heads, all their eyes on you, before you nod slowly. 

“Movie night. Right. Uh. I’m going to head in early since I have to be out of here early tomorrow, so try not to have too much… fun out here. I’ll leave you guys to it then?” 

You readjust your duffel on your shoulder and pull an apple from the bowl on the island as you pass, not sparing a glance behind as you head for your room.

“Too much fun?” Jaemin echoes quietly beside him, the both of them still staring off after where you’d just been, when Donghyuck curses and brings their attention back to the front.

“Are you fucking— Has this been on the screen the whole time?”

It’s only belatedly Jeno realizes that, in his haste to just get your youtube channel off the screen, Mark must’ve just pressed any recommended video from the suggestions. Even if it didn’t make the most sense for them to be so diligently watching. Because, still muted, a video of an aerobics class plays on the TV dozens of women in a giant studio, dressed in very tight, very small clothes, all bending over and lunging and casually contorting their bodies into positions that would probably make nuns across the country blush. 

Quite the movie you walked in on them watching. Together. Without speaking. On mute. Mark gasps when he realizes this and snatches the remote again, frantically clicking on something else like the damage hasn’t already been done, and Chenle laughs until he cries when he, also, finally understands what a sight that must’ve been. Jeno probably would’ve found it hilarious too, if he’d been paying attention to it at all.

Instead, all he could really think about was the fact that while he couldn’t take his eyes off of you— you hadn’t thought to look in his direction once.

Movie night comes to a close with two casualties— Renjun and Jisung, snoring and completely unconscious on the couch and floor respectively— Mark shooing the rest of them out at one in the morning with a loud yawn and a promise to continue Scream VI after everyone's classes tomorrow night. 

Per usual, Jeno gets sacked with taking Jaemin home. And per usual, like a Gremlin straight from the films, Jaemin turns into a pit of insatiable hunger after midnight and demands they stop at a drive through so he can get something to eat.

But if Jeno is being honest— he really just wants to go home. 

He’s tired. It’s been a long day. Four classes, basketball practice, having to take his car to get looked at because the air coming out of the aircon kept smelling like burnt lemons. The final nail in the coffin had been you not even batting an eye at him when you’d gotten home, when he’s been physically unable to think of anything else besides you for the last four days.

He is entirely ready to call it a night…  but he knows that he’ll never, ever hear the end of it if he doesn’t take Jaemin somewhere before he drops him off, and it’s only fate that he spies McDonalds golden arches at the next turn signal. 

He whips into the drive through and is preparing to turn right back out of the lot when the food is safely in the vehicle a few minutes later, but Jaemin asks him for something he’s never asked for before.

He asks him to park. 

Jeno glances at him, incredulous, but Jaemin doesn’t seem to be joking at all. “You can’t wait until you’re home?”

“I’m hungry, I said. And I want to eat in peace.”

“You had two whole servings of that Lo Mein and still snuck some off of my plate.”

“Don’t fat shame me,” Jaemin replies mildly, eyeing the steaming contents of the paper bag. “My digestion is only a quarter of the reason. Jaehyun will snatch this from me if he sees me come into the house with it. Just park it, will you?”

And because Jeno has never really been one to argue, despite being annoyed by the detour, he does just that. 

He should’ve known better though. Jaemin knows a dozen ways to sneak food into that apartment without setting off the nose of his brother; the two have been living together for a year and a half. He’s never asked him to park before because he’s never needed Jeno to park— but he doesn’t start realizing any possible ulterior motives until a few minutes in, when (after he’s polished off half of his nuggets in complete silence) Jaemin asks how he’s doing. 

Jeno’s eyebrows dart up to his hairline. “What?”

“I’m asking if you’re okay,” Jaemin says. “Doesn’t take a psychiatrist to see that you’ve been off these last few days. What’s on your mind?”

“What’s on my mind?” 

And only then does he put two and two together.

“Is this... is this an intervention?”

“What? Of course not! I can’t just wonder how my friend is doing?”

“You made me drive you into an empty parking lot at one in the morning because you were just wondering? Are you even hungry?”

“I would never lie about food,” Jaemin says with great offense, seemingly forgetting himself for a moment before he sees the jarred look on Jeno’s face. “Well. Okay. Fine. I just… I heard what happened on the balcony with you and Rockstar a few days ago.”

It’s like being suckerpunched. 

“You’ve been all weird since,” he continues, “And watching you do nothing about it is starting to stress me out.”

Jeno expects to feel angry once the shock wears off; to get mad at Jaemin for eavesdropping, or butting in, or for trying to offer advice Jeno didn’t ask for. But nothing actually comes to him besides an eye twitch, courtesy of Jaemin’s straw squeaking as he stabs it through the soda cup lid. 

He releases the tension from his spine. No need to play coy, then. “Weird is an understatement.”

“Of course it is. You’ve been moping around like you’re about to be executed.” 

“Because I screwed up, man.”

“What?” Jaemin says flippantly. “Hardly. There were a few rough edges, like how you probably could’ve gone without calling the poor girl’s eternal undying love for you… cute, but as far as I know nothing you told her was a lie. I don’t actually see where you went wrong in telling her that her brother was the reason you didn’t acknowledge her feelings when she asked.”

Jaemin says nothing for a moment as he leans forward, shaking and then rifling through the brown bag for the few fries that had somehow escaped his previous sweep. Jeno knows better than to take that speech as final verdict, however. A silence this heavy over ever means that there’s a but. There’s always a—

“If you’re not interested in her anymore, that is. Because what you did up there was pretty straightforward, for someone who was actually trying to let a girl down easy.”

And there it is. Jeno screws his eyes shut and exhales for much, much too long, if only to focus on the feeling of his lungs caving in instead of where he is and what he’s talking about.

“And if I wasn’t trying to let her down easy?” Jeno asks.

Jaemin doesn’t even look at him. Just keeps his eyes trained lazily on the traffic going by, humming as he inserts another whole nugget into his mouth. “Then you’re fucked.”

Okay. Here the anger comes, just a little belated. The wave of irritation that hits him at Jaemin’s stupid reply catches him off guard. Then you’re fucked. If Jeno didn’t already know that would he have asked? Did Jaemin bring him out here to rub it in? Just to hear the details?

Without thinking he jams his middle finger into the push to start, roaring the car’s engine to life— if his only goal was to remind Jeno of his colossal mistake then he could finish his damn nuggests elsewhere.

“Woah, woah!” Jaemin bursts as the car jerks into first gear, big eyes wide in alarm, “Damn, man, I was just— Can I finish before you tear out of here like fucking Batman?”

“Why can’t you just eat while I drive?”

“What? No, I meant finish what I was saying! There’s still hope for you, dipshit!”

And he sounds so sure of himself that Jeno can’t help but hesitate. With a huff that even he knows is petulant, Jeno knocks the shift back into park and drags a heavy, tired hand down his face. “What hope.”

“Have you maybe considered telling her how you feel?”

“Did you pull that from an episode of Dr.Phil?” he mocks childishly, but before he can finish Jaemin socks him in the arm hard enough to make him yelp, patience waning, and wary of being hit again Jeno says the first thing that comes to mind.

“No! No, I’ve never considered it, because I don’t… I don’t know.” 

Jaemin says nothing, so he just keeps going. “I don’t know how I feel. Whenever I felt myself caring too much about what she was doing I’d just chalk it up to Mark’s overprotectiveness rubbing off on me or something, and I’ve been like that for so long that it’s just become my go-to answer. I’ve never let myself think about it long enough to come to any other conclusion. I couldn’t.”

“Because you were scared of what you’d realize if you did?” Jaemin finishes, unsurprised. “You’re so stupid.”

“Fuck off,” Jeno bites, but Jaemin shakes his head. 

“No. You’re actually dumb. You already know how you feel about her. You’ve known. You’ve just never let yourself say it out loud because saying it out loud means confirming it, and confirming it means you have to choose, but not looking at the writing on the wall doesn’t mean it isn’t there. What you still don’t seem to realize is that not choosing is still a choice.”

“A choice that keeps everyone happy,” he replies through a taut jaw. “Y/N got over me, and Mark doesn’t hate my guts. Easy.”

Jaemin looks like he has a lot to say about that statement, but swallows it down to ask the one he finds will get him the closest to his goal. “Why are you even friends with Mark if you think he’ll hate you over something like this?”

“What?”

“Don’t get mad at me, Jeno, actually think. He’s your best friend. You’re closer to brothers than two people who only met in high school. But you swear he’d drop you without a second thought if ever found out that you ever happened to look at Y/N in a way that wasn’t entirely innocent. Why? Are you some sort of threat Mark should be wary of? Do you have nefarious intentions with his baby sister?”

Jeno balks. Jaemin is clearly just trying to rile him up, his questions nothing but rhetorical, but regardless of knowing this Jeno still feels something angry and dark churning in his gut. His voice is a touch sharper than me means for it to be when he says, warningly, “What the hell are you trying to say, Jaemin?“

“I’m not trying to say anything! I’m asking you, because I’m seriously starting to think that you’ve never asked yourself! What reason do you actually have for thinking Mark wouldn’t even hear you out?”

“I know you’ve heard him, man. When he told us she was hanging out with Yeonjun again, you don’t remember that? How pissed he’d get— the tangents he’d go on, how he’d insist no guy was good enough for her, how guys ‘our age’ have nothing good in mind when it comes to chasing after girls? You think just because we’re his friends that rule doesn’t apply to us?”

“I don’t think that, actually,” Jaemin snorts and pulls yet another nugget from the bag. “Especially because Yeonjun was a super senior that was nearing twenty when he graduated, and had a reputation you could see from around corners for using girls like fast food napkins. That’s your big hang up? That Mark didn’t want some sleaze like that hanging around his sister?”

He has a point. But in Jeno’s mind this isn’t nearly enough to undo years and years of Mark’s theoretical judgment hanging over his neck like a guillotine.

“Yeonjun is a strong example, but it still seemed pretty clear to me that he meant that about every guy. Not just the real shitheads.”

“Then you read him wrong.”

Jeno surprises even himself when he laughs. “What makes you so sure, Na?”

“‘Cause he—”  And Jaemin hesitates. All that informative bravado wavers, a visible wave of uncertainty crossing his face. “Because a few years ago he pretty much gave me permission. To go after her, I mean.”

Jeno thought for sure that after Wooyoung’s party he’d really experienced it all. The confusion, at first, as the explanation fell so casually from your mouth; Hooked up with one of your siblings friends, Somi said. But you only had one sibling, and Jeno also was pretty fucking sure he knew all of Mark’s friends since. Some itchy part of him wished you were lying— merely putting a finger down to look cool amongst the party goers and not because you’d actually lost the round, but he knew you and was therefore acutely aware of the fact that you weren’t one to play pretend for strangers. 

Then, before he even had time to come to terms with why he felt so bothered by this knowledge, Somi accidentally outed this mysterious Mosquito Boy and Jeno felt like he’d just been doused in ice. 

In the span of a few seconds he ran though the five stages of grief like a racecar zipping around a closed track. Denial, quick and easy, he thought Somi must’ve just been mistaken. That Jaemin probably just looked like whoever it was that you hooked up with, and in her stupor tried to connect dots that weren’t there. But not only did that stop making sense once he really thought about it— since you explicitly mentioned the lake house and Mark’s birthday, two landmarks that would be very hard to miscalculate— he’d seen the look on your face when Somi said it. 

You weren’t annoyed that she got it wrong. You were terrified because she’d gotten it right.

Then came anger. Sharp and barely contained, Jeno’s eyes drifted from your face to Jaemin’s, and a wash of deep, burning… something, took him over. Jeno might not have been able to name the crime Jaemin committed, because you were both consenting adults who were fully allowed to do what they pleased and it wasn’t like Jaemin was bound by blood to tell them everything he did in his freetime, but Jeno as he watched Jaemin smile at you, none the wiser to what secret of his had just been spilled to half their class, he still felt like he was staring at someone who should be on the top of a wanted list.

There simply was no final stage of acceptance, because for the last week he’s been stuck squarely in depression. Replaying that moment on the balcony over and over again like a kid picking at a scab, moping around campus like some sort of ghost as the days went by.

He thought he’d felt it all, in the last four days. He thought that there were no more bombshells to be dropped. 

This presumption is blown out of the water when, after the near fifteen seconds it takes for him to compute what Jaemin has just said, Jeno finally feels something new. 

And whatever it is, the appearance of it on his face seems to worry Jaemin greatly.

“He gave you… permission?”

“Which I did nothing with,” Jaemin says with careful haste, “I didn’t. He’d just… picked up on something. He took the fact that I dote on her so much as— As a sign, or something, that I liked her, and pulled me aside one day before you and Hyuck got to their house.”

He swallows. “When?” 

“Some time when we were juniors. I know it was close to summer because I just turned eighteen.” He laughs, awkwardly and a little too loud, like this is the first time he’s telling this story and is just now realizing how ridiculous it is. Jeno doesn’t laugh with him. “I asked if Rockstar was coming home ‘cause I had something for her, and he said dropped her off at her friend’s house already. Then he got this look on his face and said, super seriously, that he wouldn’t mind if she liked a guy like me. I said what, he said what, and then elaborated that he noticed how much I fuss over her and stuff, and that if I liked her more than I let on that he’d be cool with it. Said I’d— He knew I’d treat her well.”

“Cool with it,” Jeno echoes distantly. “Cool with… you. Dating Y/N.”

“I turned him down,” Jaemin tells him for some reason. “Just laughed it off, because I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Why?”

He blinks like this is the last question he was expecting Jeno to ask. “Why?”

“Obviously, you—” The words almost don’t want to come out. “You’re clearly attracted to her. I don’t see why you wouldn’t take that as a greenlight to really pursue it.”

“You’re asking me why I didn’t ask her out?”

“Yes?”

“Are you kidding? I didn’t do anything about it because of you. So you could then kill me in my sleep?”

“I wouldn’t have felt anyhow about it,” Jeno lies. “If Mark gave you his blessing then that— That has nothing to do with—”

“Yes it does, man! I only brought it up because it’s proof that Mark doesn’t just shoot blindly when it comes to who his little sister likes, and if you don’t have to worry about that, you can stop lying to yourself about what you really want. You have a chance.”

“I had a chance,” Jeno blurts before he can swallow it, truth sharp and instantly sobering. “Before the lake house. Maybe even before what I said on Saturday. But—” He remembers the look on your face on the balcony. The clear, deep hurt. Then he remembers how you looked at him an hour ago. Or how you didn’t look at him, more realistically— Casual, unbothered, composed.

Unlike him, you’ve already reached some semblance of acceptance.

“But this time I think I really messed up.”

The lights of the restaurant are too bright in his periphery. The silence is too quiet, and the air in the car is too suffocating. Again he’s grabbed by the urge to go home, and before Jaemin can say another word Jeno glances at the finally empty fast food box in his lap.

This time when the engine revs and Jeno wordlessly kicks the car into drive, Jaemin says nothing. 

You owe it to her to tell her the truth, you know.

Jaemin lives in an apartment with his older brother, a few short blocks from Jeno’s own place. The ride had been mostly silent, neither of them really feeling the need to speak in lieu of the rather tense exchange they’d left behind— the first thing Jaemin said since they left the parking lot was when he was pulling in front of the building, and it was for Jeno to cut down on the moping if he didn’t want to have wrinkles by twenty-five. 

Before Jeno could roll his eyes and tell him to get out, Jaemin opened the door and stepped out himself; but not without doing what he does best. Lecturing.

She’s miserable. You’re miserable. I know you know that much.

Jeno only sighed.

All because of one big miscommunication. I know you, and I like to think that after half a decade of being in her house I’d know Y/N pretty well too, and you’re both never going to be able to look at each other again without this hanging over your heads if you don’t sort it out. If you’re so sure that this is the end, then you have nothing to lose by telling her the truth about everything. Everything. How you feel now, and how you felt then. And if there’s any part of you that believes this can be saved, then you need to try as hard as you can to make sure it happens. And it starts with you manning up and telling her feelings weren’t nearly as unrequited as she thinks.

And Jeno wasn’t quite in the mood to tell him he was right, so he didn’t. Instead he squinted at Jaemin, and asked the question that’s been prickling in his mind since they pulled out of the fast food place. 

“What Mark said about giving you his blessing,” he started, “You said you turned it down for me.”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Because regardless of how obtuse you are, I know what I saw. You liked her. A lot. I wasn’t getting in the way of that.”

A beat. 

“And If I wasn’t there to get in the way?”

It’s a clear inquiry to Jeno, cut and dry, but Jaemin laughs like he’s just been asked a trick question. With his eyes narrowed and a cavalier smile in his expression, Jaemin stared at him as if he was thinking ‘Do you actually want to know the answer to that?’ and in that moment without a single word spoken, Jeno saw it all. There was a world quite similar to this one where they weren’t having this conversation, or talking so casually about you, or sharing advice. A world where Jaemin was a more opportunistic person who didn’t care that Jeno had liked you first; A world where they weren’t friends, but rivals.

If you weren’t in the way then she would be mine.

“I don’t think asking things like that is going to help you get the girl.”

“I would still appreciate the clarification,” Jeno said, just as vague.

“Mmm. I bet. Well, Lee Jeno,” Jaemin tapped the roof of the car twice, the whole car echoing with the force of it despite how casually he spoke, “My answer to that question is going to make you do everything but appreciate me, so how about we call a draw here, huh? Before we open that can of worms and everyone gets all… thinky.”

And they both knew that by not answering Jaemin had actually replied loud and clear. But once he heeded his words— really sat there and thought about it, what good it would do for anyone if Jeno knew how Jaemin really felt about you, he found himself agreeing. 

Maybe ignorance is bliss. 

“You smell like french fries,” Jeno called offhandedly, as Jaemin retreated closer and closer to the revolving doors of his building. He turns right as Jeno steps out of the driver's seat, just in time to catch the tiny cologne he keeps in the console for emergencies. “No chance Jaehyun won’t clock you.”

Jaemin cooed. “So thoughtful you are, No-Jam! If you weren’t so buff and scary, Y/N-ie might’ve had competition.”

And for the first time all night, maybe even all week, Jeno felt a genuine laugh.

[♥︎]: and there it is, folks! please leave a like if you enjoyed! it REALLY gives me the motivation to work on this faster! plus, yay, new chapter after a literal entire year, LOL

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[raya-hunter01]

Let It Snow

One Shot

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Mila)

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral, sex, fluff,

Summary: It's Christmas Eve and Main Event Jey Uso is upset that the trip that he planned for his girlfriend Mila is not off to a good start. Frustrated, Jey goes live on his Instagram complaining about the snow. Now going through a snow storm the couple decide to make the best of it..

Let it snow!

“Yo’…… What is this shit? All mountains…… Yo, this that stuff ya’ll don’t see though,” Jey sighed full of frustration as we were going through a snowstorm warning. “Come on babe, we’re almost there,” I sighed as he ended his IG story.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m just frustrated nothin’ is goin’ right. Our first rental broke down, and I almost missed the show tonight. Now with this rental, they let damn third and second-row seats down to inspect them and now they stuck, looks like we drivin’ a bed,” Jey said as I looked in the backseat. 

He had a point, but if he knew what I wanted to do on those seats, I don’t think he would mind.

“Babe, it’s fine at least they were able to get us this SUV at the last minute and they cut the price down,” I said trying to see the good in the situation.

“We could have been stranded in that town until after Christmas, but the rental place came through at least on that part,” I said trying to point out what we should be thankful for.  

“Yeah, they did so I’ll give them that, but the hits just keep coming.  How does a snowstorm warning come as the snow is falling? We stuck drivin’ like old people make love, slow as snails,” he ranted as I bit back a smirk at his analogy. 

“Look just breathe, It’s ok baby. Everything is working out, it’s just takin’ us a little longer than planned to get to the cabin,” I said as he kissed my hand.

“I know I’m trippin’ and I’m sorry.  I just wanted something better than this for our first Christmas trip together Mila.  It’s been a disaster, nothin’ has gon’ right at all,” Jey said glancing at me as I played with his hair.

“Jey, you can’t help what happened with the rental and you can’t control the weather. I’m just happy we’re here together," I said as he sighed, rubbing his hand over his beard.

“You right, but I still should have just requested the house show off today. We could have been warm in the cabin, and watching the snow fall instead of driving in it,” he said caressing my leg.

“Uh no, you shouldn’t have, the fans loved you tonight. Many people got those tickets as Christmas gifts and you guys made so many little kids dreams come true tonight. Never take that for granted because in an instant it can be gone,” I said as he smiled at me.

“I just love you da hell outta you, you know dat right," he said glancing at me as I blushed. 

Unbuckling my seatbelt, I leaned over slowly caressing his chin, gently kissing him on the neck as he groaned in pleasure.

“See you startin’ shit, don’t make me throw yo’ ass in the backseat and have my way wit you,” his deep voice warned as I smirked against his neck before returning to my seat looking innocently at him.  

“Then you lookin’ at me like that. I’m serious Mila, you gon’ bring in Christmas full of dick and carpet burns on yo’ ass, keep playin’ he said as I laughed.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, you gon’ have to stand on business you keep talkin’ like that now. I just wanted to tell you, that I love you too,” I said turning up the radio as he smirked keeping his eyes focused on the highway.

Jey’s POV

“Everyone here at the quiet storm would like to thank you all for tuning in on this cold, snowy Christmas Eve. Tis the season to be with the ones you love.  So, fellas grab ya ladies and make some beautiful memories,” the DJ said as Let It Snow by Boyz II Men and Brian McKnight began playing. “A’ight ya’ll set the mood,” I said as the slow ballad filled the car.

Let it snow

Let it snow

Let it snow, let it snow

“I know right, it doesn’t even feel like Christmas until I hear this. It’s one of my favorite Christmas songs,” Mila said leaning back in her seat, humming as I smiled at her.

Having an Idea, I looked at my road markers and turned off the highway. “What are you doing?” Mila asked as I backed off the road a little in between two trees turning on the brights making the deserted road covered with beautiful white snow glow.

“You’ll see baby,” I whispered turning up the music before I got out and went around to her side of the car, opening her door. 

“Jey, it’s cold as hell and we already ain’t dressed for this type of weather. You got on a hoodie, and I got on this dress,” she stressed as I laughed grabbing her blanket off her lap and helping her out of the car.

Hey, it's another Christmas Holiday

It's a joyous thing let the angels sing.

Cause we're together.

“You heard the DJ, he told me to grab yo’ fine ass and make some memories,” I said leading her to the front of our rental as she smiled shyly at me.

“You are just full of surprises,” she whispered as I twirled her around, wrapping her blanket around us as we swayed to the music. “Gotta keep you on your toes,” I said as she laughed.

“Nah, what you doin' is makin’ me fall even harder for you Mr. Fatu,” Mila whispered running her fingers through my hair. I felt my heart swell as her beautiful eyes held me captive.

“That means I’m on the right track Vaivai,” I whispered as she blushed at my use of my native tongue.

We got a thing here, can't let it slip away

Though outside is rain and sleet

When our bodies meet...

I don't care 'bout the weather

“So, you think I’m beautiful?” Mila asked as the light shone on her beautiful face making her even more stunning than she already was.

The snow seemed to be falling harder and I knew we should get back on the road, but I didn’t care I was in the moment with her and that was all that mattered.

“You my beautiful angel,” I confessed, pulling her closer as she laid her head on against my chest, slowly grazing her fingertips across my chest making my heart race.  

Let it snow, let it snow

Outside it's cold but the fire's blazin'

So baby let it snow

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Feeling her shiver against me I wrapped her blanket tighter around us as she looked up at me smiling brightly.

“I would have never dreamed we would be out here dancin’ in the snow, I know you hate it,” Mila said as I gently kissed her.

“It seems to be growin’ on me…Especially since you here wit me,” I said, her hands caressing my face as I fell deeper into the beautiful pool of her brown eyes as she shyly nibbled on her bottom lip.

Mila's POV

Talk about a core memory…. Jey’s strong arms around my waist holding me close as we danced in the snow. I felt safe and loved, something he always promised me I would feel if I just gave him a chance.

I wanna wrap you up, baby

Then you'll see you're the only present I need

There's so much more

Waiting for you in store

 “You just keep biting dat lip, you know what that does to me, Mila,” Jey moaned gently caressing my lower lip with his thumb, his words making my pussy quiver.

“Stand on business then ma ave au,” I whispered kissing his thumb, slowly opening my plump lips, swirling my tongue around it as he growled lowly.

From this precious day

I can gladly say

There's no place that I'd rather be

“Mmm, you want me to stand on business and take you? That what you want baby?" Jey asked as I released his thumb. "Yes," I panted breathlessly as he used his thumb to once more caress my lips before finally taking me in a slow sensual kiss.

My knees became weaker by the second as we explored each other’s mouths, desperate to get closer. Three weeks had been too long for us both.

“I been dreamin’ bout you and what I’d do when I saw you again. You ready for me baby?” Jey asked, tortuously moving his kisses to my shoulder, playing with the straps on my dress.

And oh, you are my everything, come a little closer

God must have sent you down from heaven

Let it snow, let it snow

My hands trembling as I gripped his shirt. “Mmm, Yes, I want you so bad,” I moaned into the blistery night air unafraid to say what I wanted and needed.

Jey growled suddenly grasping my thighs, wrapping my legs around his waist, carrying me back to our SUV as I nibbled on his neck.

I don't care 'bout the weather baby

All I need you to do is be with me, baby

Let it snow

As long as you're here with me

Let it snow

“Once again Merry Christmas from the crew here at the Quiet Storm goodnight, everybody,” I heard the DJ faintly say as I feasted on Jey’s neck, his moans urging me to have my way.

Carrying me around to the back of the SUV, Jey opened the liftgate and gently laid me down as I slid back towards the front, avoiding our luggage.

 “Shit, the lights. We don’t need anybody stopping thinkin’ we need some help. We ain’t got much time, and you betta be naked when I get back Mila,” his deep sexy voice commanded as he ran back around to the driver’s side.

I quickly discarded my clothes laying on my blanket and using my dress as a pillow.

 I felt a blast of heat above me, feeling thankful he turned the heat up. Planting my feet and opening my legs I closed my eyes in anticipation.

Hearing the liftgate close, my breath hitched and my heart began to race as I felt Jey’s hand caressed my legs.

“Fuck, you look so gorgeous like this, waiting for me to take you,” Jey moaned as I trembled feeling him between my thighs lightly running his fingertips across my hips.

“Baby please,” I begged not ashamed in the slightest as his lips lightly brushed across mine.

“Look at me Mila, I want you to watch me… Watch me pleasin’ you baby,” Jey moaned grasping my chin, making me look at him as I trembled against him.

“Jey don’t tease me,” I whimpered against his lips as I felt him smirk. “I wouldn’t dream of it beautiful,” he whispered slowly inching into my welcoming fountain.

“Mmm, Fuck!” I exclaimed as each thrust was better than the last as I felt him growing more and more inside me.

“Yea, you love feelin’ dat dick rock up in dat pussy, don’t you baby?” Jey asked biting back a moan, clawing his back.

“Yes, baby, fuck yes,” I moaned, my back arched in ecstasy exposing my ever-sensitive neck. Growling in appreciation Jey began sucking greedily on my neck as my pleasure continued to climb higher with each powerful thrust.

“That's it, that's what I wanted...Just like dat Mila, you beautiful baby,” he praised as I shivered, his teeth lightly grazing my neck.

 I began to move against him as he hissed, stilling my hips.

“Not yet, I don’t want you to cum yet,” he declared sitting back on his knees, one hand grasping my hips, sinking slowly and deeply inside me setting a steady pace as the other lightly grasped my neck.

“Baby…babybabybabyjey. Mmm, you so deep,” I purred as he took me how he wanted.

“Mmhmm and you takin’ it all Mila. Fuck!  You such a good girl, I love dat shit,” Jey praised me as my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

“I love it too,” I proclaimed, sitting up wrapping my arms around his neck, and bouncing to meet his thrusts. Claiming his lips in a powerful kiss, our tongues met again with urgency.

"Fuck, Mmhm! Bounce on dat dick and show me how much you missed it", Jey whispered, intertwining our hands givin' me leverage as I bounced with wild abandon, on a mission for us both.

"Mmm, you like that baby," I groaned flicking my tongue against his lips as a low growl escaped them.

“Yes! Fuck yes,” Jey moaned, releasing my hands, lowering me down, and spreading my legs wider. His thrusts never faltered as a strangled moan fell from his lips as he snapped his hips forward, going deeper inside me.

"Jey! Shit!" I gasped, drowning in pleasure as he pleased me. His intense gaze holding me captive.

“Uh huh, I ain’t forgot bout that spot baby, fuck dat pussy getting’ even wetter for me. You close ain’t you?” Jey moaned as our hips pounded against each other.

Yes! I'm so close," I cried, my eyes glazed over in pleasure as I finally gave in and allowed them to close. Biting my bottom lip, I shyly put my hands over my face.

“Look at me, Mila stop hiding from me. If you don’t, I’ll stop,” Jey declared as I forced my eyes open." Jey, please,” I moaned as he began rubbing his thumb and forefinger against my clit sending shockwaves through my body.

“I got you, baby, I promise,” Jey moaned as I began moving against him again as he groaned. “Mmm, I know baby,” I moaned as his fingers swirled around my clit again before he traced my lips with the same two fingers.

“Open up for Daddy baby,” he whispered, slowly slipping his fingers inside my mouth. Groaning, I greedily began sucking on his fingers as he smirked at me.

“You taste good, don’t you? Let Daddy see,” He whispered, with a carnal gaze rendering me speechless as he pulled out abruptly.

 Whimpering at the loss of him, Jey threw my legs back, and greedily began sucking my clit between his lips as I squirmed beneath him. “Oh my God Jey!” I cried  gripping his hands on my legs as he controlled my body.

“Yea, It’s me, baby, It's been too long since I've tasted you," he moaned curling his two fingers against my g-spot.

“Yes, it has! Eat your pussy, baby,” I praised as he devoured me whole as I used as I began moving against his mouth with a purpose.

“Mmmhm, you taste so good, I been waitin’ on this,” he proclaimed curling his fingers even faster as he flattened his tongue lapping it against my clit his gaze never leaving mine.

“Oh, fuck! Yes, get nasty with that shit, lick it all up baby,” I purred as Jey growled, simultaneously moving his fingers and tongue together even faster in sync.

 My body whimpering in need, steadily climbing heights I didn’t even know existed until I had nowhere else to go.

“God, I love you!” I cried reaching my peak, spilling into his awaiting mouth as he drank my essence humming in satisfaction.

“Mmm, I love you too baby,” he moaned caressing my thigh as I fought to catch my breath.

“That was amazing ba- Shit!” I exclaimed as he entered me swiftly towering over me, his lips overpowering mine we tasted each other.

“Yes, it was but I ain’t done wit you yet,” Jey moaned thrusting long and deep inside me as felt my body begin to tingle all over again.

“I want you to cum when I tell you to. Do you hear me?” Jey grunted nibbling on one of my nipples while caressing the other before giving the other the same equal attention as I continued to melt into him.

I knew Jey felt I was close, as he began thrusting harder. "Jeyjeyjeyjey….…. Oh, baby!” I gasped almost chanting, pushing at his lower abdomen. Each thrust was more powerful than the last as he went deeper, rendering me unable to think.

“Move yo’ hand, why you tryin’ to run,” Jey groaned biting his lower lip never stopping his thrusts as I felt myself about to tip over the edge of ecstasy again.

“Stop runnin’ Mila, all this is just for you… Don't be scared, get your nut,” Jey moaned moving my hands as he went deeper.

“Mmm, fuck, I can take it. I can take it all ” I moaned as Jey leaned down, grasping my throat, taking me in a possessive kiss as he continued to take me deeper and deeper.

“I know you can take it all baby. You look so gorgeous takin’ it too,” he groaned against my lips as I writhed beneath him, both of us chasing climax.

“Mmm, right there. I'm bout to cum,” I moaned as he trembled against me as my pussy pulsed, engulfing him tighter.

“Shit! Me too, cum wit me beautiful,” Jey moaned as I fell apart in his arms “I’m cummin’!" I exclaimed as we went over the cliff together slowly falling back to earth as he collapsed in my arms, his head laying on my chest as I played with in his hair.

Totally spent and trying to catch my breath, I looked up at the clock on the radio, damn 12:30 a.m.

“Merry Christmas,” I whispered as Jey gently kissed me. “Merry Christmas baby,” he whispered, sighing against my lips as his phone rang and interrupted our moment.

“Damn it’s Jimmy,” Jey said reaching up front, getting his phone as I started putting my clothes back on.

“What’s up, Uce,” he said putting Jimmy on speaker phone, pulling up his sweats and putting his hoodie back on.

“Aye, where the hell ya’ll at?  We just got to our cabin and I didn’t see ya’ll's SUV next door. Ya’ll left before we did, is everything good Jimmy asked as Jey sighed.

“Yea, we good, Uce,” Jey said as he stared at me licking his lips as I blushed, not believing what we had just done.  

“I checked your location and you been in the same spot for awhile. Ya’ll didn’t break down, did you?” Jimmy asked as I shook my head.

“Nah, we bout to get back on the road, Uce, we just stopped for awhile the snow was getting to me,” Jey said as I raised a brow at him. “Damn liar,” I whispered as he smirked.

“Uh huh, more like seeing Mila again was getting’ to yo’ ass,” Jimmy snickered as I climbed back into my seat as Jey opened the liftgate and went back around to the driver’s side to get in.

“Bro, chill we on the way, and the snow ain’t too bad now so it shouldn’t take us long,” Jey said starting the SUV as I bundled back up under my blanket.

“A’ight well text me when ya’ll get here, maybe we can all do breakfast a little later on today,” Jimmy said as they exchanged their goodbyes.

“Well let’s gon’ knock this last hour out,” I said as Jey smiled at me.

Yea, let’s do that cause when we get to the cabin….Oouu you in for a long ass week. I doubt we gon’ be goin next door to have breakfast with Jimmy and Trin later on today.. Maybe tomorrow but definitely not today,” he said as I laughed.

“Well I’ll hold you to that,” I said as he kissed my hand. We had another hour to ride in this snow but one thing was for sure…

This Christmas was definitely shaping up to be one to remember.

Taglist:

@reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway @venusesworld @jeyusosgirl  @theninthwonder @mya2real 

[sungbeam]

the boyz office au, but you're the ceo

tbz ot11 x gn!reader

2.5k words, assorted headcanons, bullet format, ceo/office au, swear words

a/n: this was for fun and fun to do ;3

LEE SANGYEON: nothing changes; he’s still the boss

he’s a ceo, but he’s the ceo of another company, not yours

you and sangyeon are actually really good friends, and met when your friends attempted to set you guys up because you were both majorly workaholic (and still are) and were in desperate need of a life

but instead of ending up dating, you both agreed that you wanted to postpone a relationship and focus on your careers first 💀 which is, in retrospect, the total opposite of the reason behind setting you guys up in the first place, but…

what’re you gonna do ig 🤡 you’re both the smartest idiots to ever exist

of course, though, sangyeon does have feelings for you and kinda feels (in)secure because he thinks that if you end up not finding anyone else, that you could reasonably fall back on him instead

plus, everybody thinks you guys are together anyway (“have you heard? yn’s engaged to the son of the lee business conglomerate…”); when people ask him about confirming or denying, he’s very good about replying in a well-mannered way “no, yn and i are just very good friends”, but sometimes he wants to just say “no comment” with a secretive smile and let people speculate (but he respects you too much to do that)

JACOB BAE: the assistant who is not your assistant

imagine the one scenario from that cheesy netflix romcom called set it up, wherein the assistants of two successful ceos attempt to set each other's bosses up with one another, but then said assistants fall in love w/ e/o instead

EXCEPT jacob's the executive assistant of some other ceo who is trying to ~woo~ you (quite poorly, might i add), and he's been tasked with sending you gifts and getting to know you

this basically means he knows you way better than his boss, who is supposed to be the person trying to win you over, but jacob ends up falling for you instead as he gets to know you and what you like and what you are like (and he's just absolutely enamored by your work ethic and compassion and ingenuity and—)

suffice to say that it's really not so difficult to write you romantic cards attached to flowers when he sends them to you, but it's awfully off-putting when he has to put his boss's name instead of his own

(you like jacob so much better than his boss anyway, and whenever you meet the two of them, you send him cheeky winks and smiles because you know)

like imagine the way this man offering to personally deliver today's little gift to your office to escape his work and to see you

AND THEN instead of just accepting the gift and dismissing him, you ask if he'd like to stay for lunch to, idk, "chat about his boss" (he'd just be overjoyed)

KIM YOUNGHOON: brand ambassador

ah, the beloved pretty face of the company—other than yourself (you are arguably a fine face for your company yourself, but celebrity endorsement is never not needed); now that you thought about it, your company did employ a lot of pretty faces…

anyway! kim younghoon's obviously gotta be some big, rising actor star person and he's got the big name, the great smile, the clear charisma, and when he signed on to become an official partner of your company to endorse the product, you were over the moon

because he was your biggest stroke of luck in this realm, and your first, you and he actually got to work very closely in the early days of shoots and branding, up to the point where younghoon became a lot more involved in the marketing than just sitting pretty and smiling on a billboard (he had beauty and brains… hard not to fall for this one)

oftentimes, he would send you invitations to his red carpet events to be his plus one, too. just imagine sharing a limo with this guy, giggling in the backseat as you make funny faces at the paparazzi outside, and then holding onto his arm as the two of you posed at premieres

(oh my god and he would be SO cheeky if people asked if you two were dating smh like lee sangyeon, who??)

LEE HYUNJAE: head of the legal department

oh, you know this man's gonna be a little shitter—but he's also the best in the legal realm, and you couldn't exactly pass up the chance to be represented by lee hyunjae (who could've been the district attorney, but decided he wanted to take on the cutthroat world of business law instead lmao)

okay but please, he probably looks super fine in those crisp, fresh-pressed suits and the thin-wired specs as he takes on the courtroom (did someone turn up the heat…?)

i'm sorry i will move on TT

MOVING ON! you and he have probably been friends for a long time, maybe since high school or college, and so you got to see him rise during his career. he was probably one of the first people to encourage you to start the business, and sat with you through really long nights drawing up contracts and foundations and going through all the red tape

so maybe he's the best friend type, but he knows not only your business inside and out, but also knows a lot about you too

he's probably gotten so many offers to join other legal teams, but he loves the one he's built here and he can't really see himself representing any other company but yours? you yourself don't get into a lot of trouble, but he does find immense pleasure in taking care of anyone who thinks they can mess with you or tarnish your name

LEE JUYEON: vp of human resources

nobody is more equipped to handle the dramatics of hr than our lovely baby boy juyo 🤩🤩

some people might doubt his abilities because of his good looks (pretty privilege or sumn lmao) but he's got a work ethic of steel and a heart of pure gold; you don't trust your new recruits with anyone else but lee juyeon

pretty much everyone under your employ has gone through the hiring process with juyeon and even though he's very soft and charming, he can also be honest enough to cut out anyone who doesn't fit the work ethic the company might require of them (but on the same note, he's also got enough faith to be able to see the good and potential in people to give them a chance)

if anyone's got a problem, you can almost always count on juyeon to help you out

you and juyeon are often seen lunching together to talk about performance management, employee relations, and other associated policies in order to keep up to date with those and up to date with each other, because even though you are boss and employee, you're still good friends

juyeon's also no stranger to the world of brand ambassadorship, and he's one of the people who helped bridge the gap between you and the limelight, especially networking with people like younghoon

and it definitely helps that juyeon is also pretty enough to be on the cover of your company's billboards too 🥴

KEVIN MOON: global ambassador/vp global relations and investment

you didn’t even realize that you’d get to the point where your company was large enough to need to think of global expansion, so kevin’s coming onto the board of directors became a blessing and a huge marker of your company’s success

he’s everything you’re looking for in a global ambassador: charismatic, down-to-earth, creative, diplomatic, fluent in like 20357038 languages (english, korean, japanese, some french, etc.)

you and kevin actually took a trip to a location abroad to a prospective new office branch, which gave you and him lots of time to bond and become familiar with working with one another (changmin was left in charge, and though he was jealous that you didn’t even think to bring him, he was honored to manage the company in your stead; you and the rest of your board of directors met up at the location too so it wasn’t like it was just you and kevin ‘cause that would be… a little too much scandal for the rising employee)

anyway, kevin basically loves travelling and he always offers you this one guest house villa/timeshare he has in the location for you to stay at when you’re in town

like, whenever he hears you're in town, you know he's coming to pick you up in a pair of aviators and a convertible, and treating you to the absolute best the city has to offer

CHOI CHANHEE: vp of finance

chanhee's definitely your stereotypical, run-of-the-mill finance person, and not the Finance Bro™, but like the glasses-wearing, shrewd, calculating, and eagle-eyed excel spreadsheet wizard who doesn't take "impossible" for an answer

well, "impossible" only if it applies to certain financial constraints, but you hired this man in particular because you were confident in his ability to deal with money

and he definitely has not let you down

he's not really outgoing when you first meet him, but once you get to know him and the two of you start working together a lot more often, he starts to open up to you and you get to see more to him than just his smarts and snark

he's actually quite shy and, frankly, adorable, once you get to know him, and it's really fascinating to watch him work whether it's with just his mental calculator or with his extensive excel knowledge (he once did a presentation on excel and navigated the entire thing with just the keyboard and to say you were a little too entranced by his finger movements would be an understatement…)

is shy at first when he receives your praise, but is much more smug when he knows you better later on and catches you staring; imagine he offers to teach you his excel wizarding tricks and just leans over your shoulder and places his hand over yours on the mouse (*malfunctions*)

JI CHANGMIN: the assistant™ (i'm sorry, but are we surprised…)

oh boy, where do we even begin with this one?

well for starters, there are a handful of reasons you decided to hire changmin as your personal assistant/secretary even though he didn’t really have experience in the realm other than some desk job a few summers ago

he’s got an attitude that takes no shit from anyone (similar to chanhee), he’s got an approachable face, but he’s also got the ability to scare anyone off or into doing their work on time

changmin’s a really hard worker, and somehow worms himself into your heart and your office, always insisting that he stay at the office until you go home, too

gives anyone who presents themselves as a threat to his close, right-hand-man standing with you the bombastic side eye and a very scary smile

rip to changmin whenever he’s approached by reporters about your alleged “engagement” to lee sangyeon (very quick to shut those rumors down; even asks if you’d like him to contact the legal department but you brush it off as unimportant)

but besides always being your first line of defense (to be there for you), whenever sangyeon isn’t in town, he’s always your next choice to bring along to fancy galas/events (gives him the excuse to let you see him in a light that’s not just your scarily efficient assistant)

i liken assistant!changmin to the mistresses of kings who protected their positions ruthlessly (except no one in this is inbred and changmin totally wouldn’t poison any possible competition, right… haha right? right??)

JU HAKNYEON: college crush → celebrity crush 😎😎😎

to be completely real with you, haknyeon’s had a crush on you ever since college days when he was delivering pizzas to your neighbor and always saw you either coming in or out of your own apartment

you were always really friendly, greeting him with a sweet smile and appropriate “good morning”/”good night”

he occasionally saw you on campus and knew of your reputation as an ambitious and innovative go-getter, and he thought your energies matched really well

but for some reason, he was always too shy to ask you to hang out (maybe he was embarrassed that he was just the pizza delivery guy, but then again, you never indicated that you looked down on him for that)

he went abroad to go to this really great culinary school though, and eventually came back to open his own place

he had always planned to reach out to you and invite you to the opening, but it’s even greater now that you can both reunite as successful versions of your younger selves

(he invites you to his restaurant often, and always has a table reserved for you; almost always sits down to share a meal with you and catch up like he always wanted to do in college)

KIM SUNWOO: the one new paparazzi guy

he has no clue what is going on half the time to be honest lol but he's been hired, given a press pass, and now has a big boy job. what's the job? paying attention to you! well, it's a little more complicated than that…

when sunwoo majored in journalism, he didn't think that he'd be spending his day camping outside your company building for an exclusive interview with you

he didn't really understand your appeal until he was sitting in the lobby of your top floor office across from a very scary-looking assistant waiting for you to be ready to give him that exclusive interview

he definitely becomes a fan of everything about you afterward: from how you run things to the very way you made his coffee in your office—plus, he wrote one hell of an article on you and he got a great promotion because of you (he still doesn't know what he's doing half the time)

anyways, whenever something about you comes up at his publishing firm, he always worms his way into being in charge of it, and if anyone says anything bad about you, he's one of the first people to defend you

lmao he's also always the one who asks changmin if you and lee sangyeon are an item just to annoy your assistant (even if sunwoo is also secretly hoping that you and sangyeon aren't...)

ERIC SOHN: the intern who spilled coffee on you the first day

i feel bad for doing eric so dirty, but tell me you can also see him rushing down the hall with open coffee cups in either of his hands and he doesn’t even see you coming toward him until he—CRASH!—absolutely destroys the blouse you’re wearing and he’s a total, blubbering mess

he’s so afraid that he’s about to get fired on his first day, because anyone who doesn’t work directly under you believes you’re super scary, but you don’t fire him

he comes back the next day in fear of his life whenever he even hears about you

you bump into him (less literally than before) in one of the break rooms because you ran out of tea packets in your office and you soothe his worries

like literally made him smile and giggle like a school girl until he could look you in the eyes without cowering—

cue the literal heart eyes he has for you now instead of pure fear (he always peeks out of the copy room whenever he hears you coming down the hall so he can greet you)

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @ethereal-engene @hyunjaespresent-deobi @justalildumpling @hongyangi @pxppxrmint @nerdypastacalzonespy @jcmdoll @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @winterchimez @sodafy @fluorescentloves @tinkerbell460 @kflixnet

[tbznewberry]

The boyz become human — part 2

Part 1

The androids have been put to work, but they can't seem to forget you. And one dark, Friday night, they finally find you again.

Genre: yandere, sci-fi, Detroit become human AU

Warnings: strip club, uncomfortable atmosphere, drunken men, fighting, spelling mistakes

Kevin looks at the little girl in front of him. She’s hugging her worn out teddy bear tightly as she sobs, wearing a pink jacket. Her mom is a few meters away with Jacob, Sangyeon and Haknyeon, drunk and high as a kite while leaning on a brick wall with a pink LED sign above her. What kind of mother brings her five year old daughter to the strip club? 

Kevin sinks down in front of the little girl with a charming smile. 

“Hi, friend”, he says and pokes the fluffy teddy bear. “What’s your name?”

“Louise.”

“I’m Kevin.” He looks at the thing in her hands. “What a cute little bear you have. What’s its name?”

“Bearie.”

Kevin tilts his head. “What a cute name.”

“He is my best friend.”

“Do you see the guys over there?” 

The little girl looks where Kevin points and nods. 

“Those are my best friends”, he says. 

The little girl's big doe eyes watch him carefully. He can’t understand why. Is he scaring her? He’s doing everything to win her over. He’s doing everything he’s been programmed and taught to do. He scans her. She’s scared, confused and interested.

“Are you an android?” she asks. 

“I am”, he answers. 

“Mommy says androids are bad … they take her job.”

“I’m a nice android. I’m here to help you.” He grows quiet. “Can I hug you? You seem like you need a hug.”

The girl nods carefully. Kevin places his arms around her and lifts her up. She puts her small arms around his neck in response. He starts to walk away from the others with his mission sounding in his head: take the little girl to the police station. 

“Where are we going?” the little girl whispers.

“We are going somewhere warm so you won’t freeze”, Kevin answers. 

He can’t feel the cold, but she can. Along with the scan of her feelings, he also saw her body temperature. Minute by minute it drops and if they stay out here in this cold any longer, he’ll fail his mission. His body is heated like always and he relies on it to keep her warm for now. 

“Mommy!” the little girl shouts, but her mother doesn’t react or respond. “I want to go to mommy!”

Kevin’s brain stops. Should he lie or tell her the truth? After this, her mother won’t ever have custody over this poor little girl again, but he can’t tell her that, can he? That’d be cruel. But he shouldn’t lie. He’s programmed to have morality. 

“She’ll come too”, he says. “We’ll go first. You have to warm up.”

He sits down in the backseat of the automatic car and it starts to drive. He holds the little girl in his lap, keeping her close enough to warm her up. 

“Look out the window, can you count the streetlights for me?” he says, pointing out the window. 

“I can count to twenty”, she says proudly. 

“You can? What a good little girl you are!”

“How high can you count?”

“Not as high as you!”

Of course he can. He can count infinitives, but his duty comes before bragging. He has to bond with the little girl. 

She eventually falls asleep on him in the car. Kevin turns to look out the window until they reach the police station. His human colleagues are in their office, talking to each other when he enters with the girl in his arms. 

“Here’s the kid”, he says. “Louise.”

“Where’s her mom?” one of the humans asks. 

“She’s with the others. I brought the kid here.”

“Stay with her until we’ve come up with what we should do.”

A new mission. 

“Understood”, Kevin says and sits down in an armchair with Louise in his arms. 

She sleeps soundly, hugging the teddy bear. He sits there for two hours before the others come with the mother in tow.

“Then it’s done”, the human male says, taking Louise. “We don’t need you anymore today. You can go charge.”

“And the girl?” Kevin asks. “What’ll happen to her?”

“She’ll get placed in a foster home and a nice family will probably adopt her.”

“Probably? Aren’t you sure?”

“You can never be sure.”

“What if no one adopts her?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not your job. Go charge now.”

The man leaves. Kevin gives the sleeping five year old one last gaze before reuniting with his friends.

——♤——

A protest against androids is occurring on the town’s square and the police send the eleven androids. They can’t understand why. Won't this only upset them more?

They reach the square and see how people with big signs are yelling in a choir. They're dressed in thick jackets with hats and gloves. The androids all around them are dressed in their workers suits. All androids are categorized and can be identified based on their outfit. Like the eleven androids, they're wearing gray suits.

"Leave!" a woman shouts at the androids that just came to the protest.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we can't", Sangyeon says. "We're sent by the police. We're obligated to be here to make sure nothing happens."

"Oh, fuck off!" the leader yells into a megaphone. "No one wants you here!"

"We're not going to stop your protest", Changmin says, holding his hand in front of him to show that he’s not a threat. "We're here to make sure that no one gets hurt. We'll just watch."

"If you don't hurt us, we won't hurt you", Sunwoo says. “Fair?”

The man with the megaphone scoffs and goes back to yelling about how androids are stealing real humans' jobs, how they're untrustworthy and that they're too expensive to produce. That the money should be given to humans in need instead. Kevin remembers the little girl. People like her could need some money.

They stand around, watching. 

After a while, something catches Juyeon’s eyes. He recognizes that beige coat. Y/N? Juyeon moves his head to the side to see the face before she disappears. It is Y/N! She's carrying shopping bags and walks towards the bus stop. Juyeon stares at her before putting his hand on Younghoon’s shoulder and moves his head. They both look at Y/N without saying anything, but they know that both of them want to walk over to her. She shouldn't be walking all alone like she's doing in this hateful world and those bags look awfully heavy. She hasn't seen any of them, but they wish she would have. They can't go against their mission, they're programmed to follow orders. But if she could come over here … then they could talk! He wants to leave. He wants to go over to Y/N and bring her home safely, carrying the shopping bags for her. 

But he can't.

He scans her to make sure she's alright at least. If she isn't, he'll have to try to break his programming somehow. She's calm, neutral. 

"These dirty scams are separating families!" 

Juyeon looks back at the man. He has pulled up an article about their rescue mission last week on a holographic ipad. About the drug addicted mom and that five year old daughter. 

"We saved that little girl", Kevin says. "Her mother wasn't suitable."

The humans refuse to listen. The androids want to leave, they don't want to be standing here and listening to these airheads complaining about their people right in front of them. But they can't. They can't break the invisible wall.

——♤——

A friday night. Something is bound to happen. They wait in the police station, sitting down on chairs, staring in front of them. 

“Hey”, a male coworker says as he walks over to them. “There’s a fight at a concert … a few drunk men. You need to go there.” He shows the coordinates on his holographic ipad. “Go.”

The eleven androids stand up and make their way out to the cars. Drunk, fighting men is not unusual. 

When they reach the concert hall, they can see that the fight is occurring outside. They hurry over to the group, separating them. 

“Hey, guys, this is not how we should be spending a friday night”, Jaehyun says and grabs one of their arms. 

“Fuck off!” the one he holds growls, trying to rip it from him to no avail. “Let me go, asshole!”

“No, I can’t. Do you have children, sir?”

“Why the fuck od you care?”

“To succeed with my mission, that information can be vital.”

“God, fine. Yes … yes, I have. Why do you care?”

“Do you think your kids would want to see their father come home all bloody, knowing what he’s done? I can tell that you are angry. Imagine if you accidentally kill one of these men you’re fightingg. You’ll never see your children again. And they’ll resent you.”

Chanhee and some of the others start checking up on girlfriends to the ones involved. The ones that had to watch something so unpleasant. His eyes wander around after more people that seem affected. A woman stands by the wall, wearing a brown shirt and blue jeans. She hugs herself, crying. Chanhee can tell who it is right away. 

New mission. 

“Y/N?” he asks, running over. 

He scans her quickly, finding fear, disgust and stress. She’s cold and tired. 

The woman looks up, meeting Chanhee’s eyes. The LED on his temple quickly flashes to yellow before going back to blue. Why is she crying? What has happened? He places his hands on her shoulders. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks gently. 

She wipes her tears. 

“My stupid friend asked me to join him … that he had an extra ticket to whoever is playing tonight!” she sniffles. “And now he’s fighting with some strangers he’ll never see again … and he ruined the night for both of us.”

“It’s okay”, Chanhee whispers and hugs her in the only way they’ll ever hug her. Protectively. “Don’t cry. You’re not hurt.”

“Not physically”, she sniffles. “But I don’t know if I want to be his friend anymore.”

Chanhee follows her eyes to the bloody man in Jacob’s hold. 

“Good”, he says shortly and glances down at her tear stained cheeks. “I’ll take you home. You shouldn’t be here. You’re freezing and you’re tired.”

He removes his gray blazer, placing it around her shoulders. 

“N-No, you need that”, Y/N says and is about to remove it, but he stops her. 

“For what? Stylish purposes? I don’t feel the cold. You’re shivering.”

“I’m okay, Chanhee. My jacket is somewhere indoors-”

“I don’t find it safe for you to walk inside again. You should be taken home.” He fixes the blazer to make sure it’ll keep her warm.

“Before we go, I need to get my friend …”

“No, you don’t. He’s going to the police station. He’s a threat for you after what he’s done tonight. He’s still very aggressive, see? He’s fighting with Jacob and Sunwoo.”

“I hope he doesn’t hurt them.”

“He won’t, don’t worry.” Chanhee places his arm around her shoulder. “Come on now, let's get you home.”

He walks with her to one of the automatic cars and helps her get into the front seat. She sighs out before telling her address. Chanhee looks at her the entire car ride, knowing that he’ll have to leave her soon. She’s tired, he can tell. That friend shouldn’t have dragged her out to that concert on a friday night. 

“Is your life good?” he asks. 

“Yeah, yeah … it’s good”, Y/N says. “I’m working and sleeping.”

“Eating?” 

“Yeah, I cook.”

“Your health and safety is my number one concern.”

“Why?”

“You’re our creator. We have to make sure you’re alright.” 

“What are you going to do after you drop me off?” 

“I’ll continue my mission.”

“What’s your mission?”

“Right now it’s to get you home safely. But actually, it’s to stop the fight. I’ll go back there after I’m done.”

Y/N nods carefully. 

“Are you happy with your job?” she asks after a while with her gaze down at her fingers. “Is it fun?”

“Fun?” he asks. “I don’t understand what you mean, but it’s my duty. I’ll do it.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything, but she’s visibly thinking. She dozes off for a few seconds before waking herself up and apologizing. 

“You don’t have to apologize”, Chanhee says. “Sleep. I’ll protect you.”

She gives him a careful gaze before shutting her eyes. He watches her minute after minute, not looking away for even a second. They’ll be separated soon, he has to take in every detail, every flaw and perfection, every little piece of her.  

When the car stops, he finds himself not wanting to wake her up. She’s sleeping so soundly, waking her up will be cruel. He could just carry her … 

Carefully, he walks out of the car, around it and opens her door. Slowly, he places his arms under her and picks her up, carrying her over to the front door of the villah. She looks so small and fragile in his arms, wearing his blazer on top of that. He doesn’t want to leave. She needs him there to protect her. 

He starts looking through her small bag before finding her keys. With her in his arms, he unlocks it and walks inside. It's dimly lit.

"Welcome home, Y/N", a voice says.

A female android walks into the hall. A housekeeper.

"Y/N?" she repeats and hurries over to Chanhee. "What happened?"

"She's just sleeping", he answers. "Are you her housekeeper?"

"Yes, I'm model AX400, she has named me Liv."

Chanhee glances down at her name tag, just below her right shoulder. When you name an android, their serial number disappears and gets replaced with the name. It's not fair that it hasn't happened to him and his friends. It's best that not everyone knows their names.

"Yeah, I can read", Chanhee answers.

"Let me take Y/N to her bedroom", Liv says.

"No, back away. I'll do it."

His grip on the woman grows tighter. If she comes closer, he’ll fight. Liv shows him the way to the woman's bedroom. Chanhee walks with a straight back and places Y/N down in her bed, tucking her in gently. 

"I recognize you", Liv says. "You're one of the ones she designed, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Follow me."

Chanhee watches the android leave the bedroom. He fixes the covers for Y/N. Something in him calms down at the peaceful expression on her face. Such a precious human being. Carefully, he makes sure she's sleeping soundly and comfortably before following Liv into a small office right next to the bedroom. Drawings and sketches of him and the others are plastered all over the room with measurements and features the papinter "can't forget" as it’s written all over the papers. He studies every inch of every paper, mesmerized. 

"She worked on you for quite some time", Liv says behind him. "Day out and day in, never taking a break. She almost got burned out because of how much time she spent on the eleven of you."

Chanhee walks over to the messy desk and starts looking through all the stuff that lies scattered. He finds a self portrait of Y/N she drew two months ago. Carefully he picks it up and lets his fingertips follow the outline of her face. 

The sketches and paintings he finds of himself interests him in a way he can't understand. It's himself he's seeing, why is he so attached to them? The thought of her putting down countless hours designing him, doing her best to make him beautiful … it warms his artificial heart. Putting her heart and soul into him and his friends without even knowing she was getting paid is something not a lot of people would do. She wanted to create them voluntarily. He has to protect her. It’s the least he can do back for everything she’s done for them. Without her, they wouldn’t be who they are — they might not even exist. 

“I think it’s best that you leave now”, Liv says. 

“I’ll go in two minutes”, he says. “I have to make sure that Y/N is okay.”

“She’ll be alright, I’ll take care of her.”

“You haven’t given me any evidence to trust you.”

Liv doesn’t answer. For a few seconds, Chanhee wonders if he should kill her. She could be a threat towards Y/N. He doesn’t know anything about this housekeeper android. He has no idea if there are any defects that could harm her or if it’s plain evil. No one knows what’s going on behind closed doors. Nothing should harm his creator. In this world of evil humans, she’s a pure being. The world doesn't deserve someone so unselfish. 

Chanhee walks inside Y/N’s bedroom and picks up his blazer with his eyes fixated on the sleeping woman. He shouldn't leave. He really, really shouldn't. His mission is to protect his creator. It's his law. But she's not showing any signs of being in danger. What should he do? 

He has to go back to the concert. That mission isn't done yet, he can't break the invisible wall that tells him to continue his mission. But he wants to. He doesn’t want to leave. Gently, he pets Y/N’s head. Her hair is so soft, so human, so lively. Everything about Y/N grows and changes. It’s interesting to him. He’ll stay the same for years and years until he no longer can function. HIs memory card will easily be put into another new and improved body, but Y/N will change and mold to fit herself. Her organs will grow weaker and weaker over the years and so will the rest of her. And he’ll be there to protect her. 

“Please leave now”, the android behind him says.

“I will”, Chanhee says. “But I will be back. I’m going to check up on her tomorrow morning to make sure my creator is okay.”

“You’re more than welcome to come, but for now, I want you to leave before you wake my owner. I don’t want an android I don’t know and have never seen to be here when she isn’t conscious. Please leave.”

“Fine. But I’d never hurt her. Don’t even imply that.”

Chanhee looks down at Y/N one last time before being escorted out of the house. He looks up at the house, taking a mental picture of both the house and the address on the street to remember for later. He will be back.

The car ride back somehow feels longer than the ride to her house. He can still smell her scent on his blazer. Sweet like honey. 

He reunites with the others outside the concert hall. People are going home and the situation is under control by now. They’ve separated the men into four corners where they’re interrogating them about what, how and when the fight started. 

“Where have you been?” Changmin asks him. 

“Y/N was here”, Chanhee says. “She is friends with one of the guys involved in this mess. She was shaken up. I had to take her home.”

“She was here?”

“Yeah, she was crying.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“I had to get her home.”

“Yeah … yeah, you’re right. Good job.”

“I know where she lives. I’m going there tomorrow to check up on her.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Chanhee nods. Together with Changmin he walks over to the man that supposedly is Y/N’s friend. He’s bloody and drunk.

“You’re coming with us”, Changmin says. “We’re taking you to the police station.”

“I can’t leave”, he slurs. “I have to get Y/N-”

“I’ve already taken care of her”, Chanhee cuts him off. “Get up.”

The man whines annoyingly. Chanhee wants to tell him to shut up, but he knows that an android shouldn’t be disrespectful to a human. They drag him over to the automatic car he and Y/N were sitting in just thirty minutes earlier. Her scent still lingers in the confined space. The two androids sit down in the front and lean back in their seats as the automatic drives. 

“You’re a friend of Y/N’s, aren’t you?” Chanhee asks shortly. 

“Yes, we’ve known each other for two years”, the man slurs. “Love her, but she’s such a prude.”

The two androids glance at each other. How dare he?

“I don’t like your wording”, Changmin says warningly. “You should watch your mouth.”

“No, no, no, no, no” the man slurs. “Don’t get me wrong! Love her, love her lots, but she only thinks about work and never wants to hang out with me. I’m trying to get her loosened up but she never opens up.”

“Stop trying then”, Chanhee says. “She's not interested.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, the drunk man continues. “You don’t know anything about human feelings … she’d like it … she just doesn’t know it yet. Humans do that. They lie to themselves. I know that if she just gave me a chance and actually let loose for once, she’d see how fun and cool I am. But she never wants to go out, never wants to meet people … took me hours to get her to come with me tonight and she doesn’t even dress appropriately! Who shows up to a rock concert in a white, knitted shirt and jeans?! We weren’t going to fucking grandma’s for thanksgiving dinner! You come in appropriate clothing!”

Chanhee turns on the radio to drown out his annoying voice. 

——♤——

The word spread. By Saturday morning, everyone knows about what Chanhee did last night and what he plans to do today and they invite themselves in. They check with their supervisors to make sure they don’t have any missions. Upon hearing that they’re free until lunch, they set off for their cars. Chanhee gives the others the address before they close their doors. The villah is a fifteen minute car ride away from the police station. They pass by LED signs, people chatting and androids pushing strollers. A normal Saturday morning. 

The cars stop by the side of the road and the eleven androids jump out and make their way over to the white front door. Chanhee warns them about Liv. Sangyeon knocks. Hoping for Y/N to open, only to get disappointed by seeing Liv at the front door.  

“You’re back”, she states. “And you brought the others.”

“We want to see her”, Sangyeon says. 

“I’ll go ask her, wait here.”

Liv closes the door again and they wait. Strong November winds roar through their hair and clothes, but they don’t feel it. Humans are hiding in their thick jackets, prepping gloves and hats for the winter season but for the androids, it’s just another Saturday. 

The door opens again and the android steps aside, letting them walk in. Carefully, they step inside the hall, looking around. Liv disappears into the kitchen and they notice how Y/N hides in the end of the hallway, wearing a pink satin robe with her arms wrapped around herself. Their eyes fall onto her. She’s confused … scared. 

“Good morning, Y/N”, Jacob says. “I hope we didn’t wake you.”

“No … no, I’ve been up for an hour …”, she says quietly, fixing a strand of hair that falls out from behind her ear. “What are you doing here?”

“We wanted to visit you”, Kevin says. “We haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

“No … I know. I thought it was supposed to be like that. I told you …”

“Don’t you want to meet us?” Eric asks. 

“Well … of course I do, but … it’ll just make me sad and I’ll start to despise you so I think it’s better if we don’t meet. If we meet accidentally — like last night — then yes, sure … but you shouldn’t come here.”

“Why would you despise us, Y/N?” Sunwoo wonders. 

“I told you before. I don’t want to grow attached to you. I’ll only get hurt from that. Besides … I didn’t make you for myself. You’re not mine anymore. Our … our collaboration is over. It’s for the best if we don’t speak too much.”

“Don’t say that”, Younghoon says. “You’re our creator, we still need you. We’re yours.”

Y/N smiles slightly. 

“I really do wish the best for you, guys”, she says. “I hope you know that.”

“Miss, your breakfast is done”, Liv says. 

“Thank you, I’ll be there soon.” She turns back to the androids in her hall. “I was about to ask if you want to join me for breakfast, but you don’t eat.”

“We’d like to sit and chat”, Juyeon says. 

Y/N nods slowly and starts to walk towards the kitchen. They follow like dogs. She sits down by her table where Liv has placed out a plate of waffles and a cup of coffee. 

“You don’t drink coffee, do you?” Y/N asks and gets a negative answer back. “This is my kind of charger. You have electricity … I have caffeine.”

“You’re not shaken up anymore”, Chanhee states. 

“No, I’m not, thankfully. Just tired … and very confused. Did you choose to come here by yourself or did someone tell you to come here?”

“We wanted to visit you”, Sangyeon says. 

“Voluntarily?”

They nod.

“Are you supposed to be able to do that?” Y/N asks, voice now cautious.

“It seems like it”, Sunwoo answers. “We can anyway.”

Y/N picks up the coffee cup with a shaking hand, spilling the burning liquid on herself. For a second, her entire mood shifts into the danger zone. They rise quickly and hurry over, taking the cup out of her hands and start to check if she’s alright.

“Stop!” Y/N almost shouts. “Stop it!”

When they don’t, she gets up from the chair and backs away, over to Liv. 

“Please leave”, the human begs. "Something isn't right with you. I'll have to contact Cyberlife and see. Something isn't right."

"What do you mean?" Kevin asks. "We don't have any malfunctions."

"W-Well … something must have gone wrong. You're not supposed to want to visit me. You're supposed to follow orders. D-Do you have human emotions?"

"No, we don't comprehend human emotions", Sangyeon says.

"Then why do you want to visit me? How is that working?”

"You're our creator", Jacob says. "We just … want to. We can't explain it."

"It's only you though", Changmin says.

That doesn't seem to calm her down. Her anxiety is rising second by second. They want to walk over to her and comfort her, but her body language tells them not to. They can’t break the invisible wall.

"Alright", she says sternly. "I'm very flattered that you wanted to check up on me. I'm doing just fine. But now I think you should leave. I'll call Cyberlife later today."

The androids give up and make their way over to the front door. 

“I’ll wash that robe for you, miss”, they hear Liv say. “Are you hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine”, Y/N answers. “Don’t worry about it.”

The androids look at each other, with the same thought in their artificial minds. They’ll be back. 

[evansbby]

i need a poyt!verse beach party drabble so bad!

i can imagine steve picking out a super revealing bikini for omega, but when they get to the beach, all eyes are on his omega and steve freaks out and gets overly possessive of omega.

and bucky is just 👀 staring 👀 at omega the whole time.

natasha wants omega to come hang with her and tan, and steve is so mean to natasha, and omega is all sad cause she hates having to stand around next to steve while he chugs beer and is with 😎 da boyz 😎

ARGH I NEED THIS!

- 🍰

Lmao Steve’s idea of a fun beach party is his omega all scantily clad in a tiny cute bikini (preferably pink or white) with a frilly coverup looking all cute and sexy in his lap while he chugs beer and talks about football or smth with ✨da boyz✨ whilst periodically showing her off, fondling her and kissing her😌 and also humping up against her bc he’s got her sitting perfectly with her ass nestled on his crotch 🫣🫣

BUT 👀 he’d also be paranoid bc his omega is practically next to naked and of course, according to Steve, every alpha wants to fuck his omega. So when omega politely requests if she can go make sandcastles in the corner, Steve is like “no, you have to stay with me at all times. This skimpy outfit you’re wearing is gonna attract the wrong kind of attention. If you could even call it an outfit.”

And omega’s like “but you chose it for me!” But Steve isn’t hearing any of it 😭😭😭. But eventually, Natasha manages to steal omega away and persuade her to go swimming. But when they get out of the water, Steve is all red with anger bc his omega is all dripping wet and her white bikini is practically see through! He drags her to his car, yelling at her about how “you’re not an attention-seeking slut like Nat is, so stop acting like one!” Which is like the meanest thing ever and omega starts crying 🥲

but Steve is angry and doesn’t give a fuck so he fucks her in the backseat of his car, then on the hood of his car, then on the front seat of his car😩 and after he’s had his fill and his anger has gone down, he takes omega into his lap and kisses her and babies her and cuddles her and says in his faux-sweetness-poyt!Steve-way, “I don’t like yelling at you, baby. But as your alpha, it’s my job to tell you when you’re doing something wrong.”

And omega sniffles like, “b-but I was only swimming.”

And Steve’s like, “You didn’t ask for my permission. All my friends were staring at you like you were a piece of meat.”

(At this point, omega wants to point out that his friends were staring at her like that even when she was sitting on Steve’s lap and he was literally showing her off to them but she keeps her mouth shut bc she is scared)

Then Steve starts kissing her sweetly, telling her how she’s such a good and well-behaved omega and how Natasha is a bad influence blah blah blah total gaslight classic poyt!Steve and the end! (This obviously takes place before Steve’s tentative redemption arc in part 4 lmao)

[daisyvisions]

I'm back to suffer 😃 but hmmm can i request the boyz members + claustrophilia *INHALES*

— 🍄

claustrophilia: an abnormal desire for confinement in an enclosed space

This one’s interesting… in my personal opinion I think these are the places the members would definitely get horny from being in a tight space with you 😏:

Inside small storage closet - Changmin, Sunwoo, Jacob

Sharing a single-sized bed - Chanhee, Younghoon, Sangyeon

Showering together in a small cubicle - Juyeon, Kevin, Haknyeon

Sitting on their lap in the backseat of a car - Hyunjae, Eric

[ltwharfy]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thanks to @daddygrandpaandthebeaver for tagging me!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

10.

2. What’s your total word count?

25,908 words

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Bob's Burgers

4. Top 5 fics by kudos

It's my five oldest fics, but not in release date order: 1. "I Will Call You Pet Names No One Knows" (aka 2.2k words about Rudy's name); 2. "Surely It's Okay If I Just Tell Pancake?" (Rudy tells his stuffed flounder about the events of "Bob Actually"); 3. "Former Guidance Counselor of the Bride (and Groom)" (Louise and Rudy's wedding told from the POV of Mr. Frond, of course); 4 (a tie!). "Dance Like Nobody's Watching" (Rudy sees Louise dancing to Boyz 4 Now song at a store, awkwardness ensues) and "Old Friends/Bookends" (Rudy and Louise rediscover Pancake when moving to their new apartment).

5. Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I adore getting comments. Whether its just a stream of incomprehensible happy letters or paragraphs describing favorite parts, I appreciate anyone taking the time to say something nice about my stories and I try to say something nice back to them ASAP.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

So, I don't really write angst. My real job is pretty depressing (I'm a lawyer for poor people in the midwestern US!) so when I'm writing (or reading) fic, I tend to gravitate towards the sweet, soft, and silly.

That said, I think my most recent fic, "And In the Backseats We Just Tried to Find Some Room to Breath", has a kind of melancholy ending. Although the very last line is a shippy Roudise line because I couldn't help myself, the image I really want to end with- Rudy quietly sitting by himself in the backseat of his father's car looking out the window at the night sky after an emotionally draining evening, it's not angsty but I think it's less warm and fluffy than some of my other stuff.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

That would be the wedding story, I think. Not only are Louise and Rudy totally in love with each other, just married, and having a great time but Mr. Frond realizes that he has had an even bigger impact on his students' lives in ways he hadn't really thought about, and that really means a lot to me, too. I still think the last paragraph or two of that story might be my favorite thing I've written; I just go back and reread it sometimes and feel like a baseball batter watching a home run sail into the upper deck- like I totally nailed that one!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I never have, and I really appreciate it. Everyone I've interacted with in Bob's Burgers fandom on AO3 and Tumbler has been really sweet and chill. One thing that particularly stands out to me is that first fic actually has a minor continuity error in it (I thought that Louise actually told Rudy that Chloe was flirting with him for test answers in "Bob Actually" and only discovered last month that she doesn't give that detail.) Nobody ever mentioned that to me in comments on the fic- every comment I got was just people loving the fic. Either no one noticed this or they didn't care about it enough to throw it in my face, and I appreciate that.

9. Do you write smut?

I never have, but I feel like at some point I probably will end up writing some Rudy/Louise as adults smut. Whenever I have story ideas about them when they are older the ideas inevitably end with them making out, and at some point I'll probably just decide "why stop there?"

For example, the last line of "Old Friends/Bookends" is: "'Of course…', he said, and took he took her by the hand as they eagerly headed to the bedroom." When I was writing that, just for my own amusement with no intention of keeping it in, I added: "And then they boned!" and then immediately deleted that. But, y'know, my mind goes there.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope. Not opposed to them, just never had an idea for one.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not to my knowledge.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

So, they were never actually published as fics, but when I was a kid in the early 90s I was really in to "Star Trek: The Next Generation" and developed a number of spinoff series of my own. One, "Starfleet Academy", my cousin and I created together.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I want to make some clever joke here, but I can't think of one. It's Louise/Rudy. 80% of my stories are about them. They are the reason I got into reading and then writing "Bob's Burgers" fanfic, they are the reason I am on tumblr. I've loved "Bob's Burgers" since it started, but the need for more content about them pulled me deeper into this fan community than I've been in anything else in a while.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

I've tried to finish everything that I've started, but I've currently got three unfinished WIPs in Word. The one that is least likely to see the light of day, or will be really significantly reworked if it does, was a story I started this summer about teenaged Rudy being nervous about asking Louise on their first real date and talking to his dad about it. it's called "Dating Advice from Mr. 'I'd Let That Dump Me'" (which I do love as a title).

"The Amazing Rudy" has sort of made me reevaluate the way I thought about Rudy and his dad. I actually had a more positive impression of Sylvester than a lot of fans- at the risk of oversharing, it was because I thought that-even with his flaws- he seemed to be doing the divorced dad thing better than my own dad did. And, after "The Amazing Rudy", I just feel like I'd have to write more about how Rudy and Sylvester's relationship evolved over the years- and how Sylvester grew as a person and a father- to get them to the place I had them in that story. And maybe I'll want to do that at some point, but right now I don't.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Writing stories that other people invariably describe as "cute"! I'm kind of joking, but that does always happen even though I'd say really only one of my written stories was written with the express intention of being cute.

More seriously, I love (and think I'm good at) getting inside characters' heads and really describing their emotions and thought process. Rudy was the first character I wrote about, and I find it easy to get in his head because he reminds me so much of myself as a boy, but when I got compliments for writing from other characters' perspectives- especially Louise's- it made me feel like I really have a knack for that.

I also think I am pretty good at capturing the character's voices in dialogue. I really writing enjoyed "For the Boy Who has (Allergies to) Everything" because it was my first effort at writing Belcher sibling dialogue (and Sgt. Bosco!) and I was pleased with how it turned out.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. I love writing about emotions and writing fun dialogue, but none of my stories have particularly involved plots. The plots are basically just a background to the feelings and/or dialogue. Half of my stories are built directly on actual episodes- I have three that are essentially episode tags, one that's basically a prologue, and one that is a missing scene focused on two background characters.

I have an outline for what would be my most plot intensive project- "Workers of the Wharf, Unite!" a story about Louise as an adult helping the Wonder Wharf employees form a union- and I've got bits of dialogue and thoughts all written out, but then there are big places that just say "stuff happens". I've yet to figure out the stuff that needs to happen. That's the hardest part for me. I hope I do figure it out eventually, because I love the idea and there's a scene I've partially drafted that would be near the end between Bob and Louise that I think would be beautiful and really encapsulates how I see Louise's character and Bob as a father.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

I was surprised to realize I did it once! In "The Life of the Symposium (aka Party)", I have Arnold say "Domo arigato" to Kaylee. Which would be about all the Japanese I know. But I thought it made sense for Arnold's character given his love of Karate that he would pick up a little Japanese.

I took German and Spanish at different points in my life but really don't remember much beyond ordering food (German) or asking for directions (Spanish). So, if I ever put another language in a fic, it would most likely be like Tina's song in "The Cook, the Steve, the Gayle, and Her Lover"- basic phrases used for comic effect.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

"Star Trek". This started when I was a preteen and first got into TNG. I came up with several of my own Star Trek spinoffs. First, the incredibly originally titled "Star Trek: The Third Generation", then "Star Trek: Discovery" (sadly or fortunately, no resemblance to the current show of that name beyond the ship being named Discovery), "Starfleet Command" and the Academy show I mentioned with my cousin. Most of this stuff was just done for my own amusement, but I think I may have published some of it on AOL. And I think some of the "episode" titles and summaries (the main thing I wrote) are on 3.5 by 5 floppy disks back at my mom's. (I feel so old typing that sentence knowing how few of the people who will read it will be able to relate. I am Rudy's Dad making the "Party of Five" reference to the hostess who was born in 2002.)

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

I could say the wedding fic or "In the Backseats..." because they both mean a lot to me but I'm going to go with one I haven't mentioned yet "Happy Anniversary (Whenever It Is...)" It was written for a Flufftober prompt and in response to "The Amazing Rudy" and it is the one fic I really wrote with the explicit intent of being cute. It's about high school age Louise and Rudy, who are officially a couple, playfully arguing over what their anniversary date should be. it is loaded with as many callbacks as I could cram into it, and just a lot of fun dialogue. It includes two really nerdy jokes that may be my favorite jokes in any of my stories.

It is also really my love letter to that relationship. Putting aside any shippy/romance aspect, I just think they've done such an amazing job showing those two characters growing closer together in a way that just feels like the natural growth of a friendship. They have such a better understanding of each other, and are so much closer at the end of "The Amazing Rudy" then they were at the end of "Carpe Museum" and you can see that developing logically as a result of other episodes like "The Kids Rob A Train" and "House of 1,000 Bounces", and "The Hawkening", etc. Someday, I may write an essay about that...

Also, I think that story has the vibe of the framing story to one of those clip shows that TV shows used to make (I especially associate them with 80s sitcoms like "Family Ties"). Like it would be:

Louise: What about the wine train...

CUT TO clip from "The Kids Rob A Train"

And as someone who grew up on 80s/90s sitcoms, I actually kind of love that!

[cafeseoulmate]

{11:29 PM}

college au; wc: 1.9k; warning for cussing; ft. juyeon of the boyz

The first ever college impromptu night drive that Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung have ever gone to was initiated by Minho on the Friday right after Hyunjin and Jisung’s first midterms season. Drunk off of soju and samgyeopsal, the four didn't realize that they were not actually being driven to Chan's dorm in-campus until Chan himself looked out of the window and realized that the traffic was heading to the other side of town.

"Where are we going?" The eldest slurred from the front passenger seat, turning his head slowly to Minho who pushes himself forward in his seat and hunches over the steering wheel. "This isn't Seoul University."

"We're picking up Y/N." Minho answered nonchalantly, squinting his eyes amidst the darkness of the road.

He then honked at the cars in front of him twice before immediately stepping on the pedal and overtaking the cars to the intersection ahead, waking up Hyunjin and Jisung who are slumped on top of each other right behind Minho.

“Where the hell are we?” Jisung rubbed his eyes before looking outside the window, only to immediately flinch away from it when a car with bright head lights speeds by. “I thought we were going to Chan’s place. I wanna go home.”

“I told you we’re picking up Y/N.” Minho scoffed in annoyance as he drove straight ahead, the traffic lessening as other cars in the outer lanes turn right to the different exits on the road. He then glanced over to his phone quickly just as it lit up to another message from you that you were probably sending to pass the time. “Blame then when we pick them up, going on a date up until this hour.”

Hyunjin, Jisung, and a now awake Changbin exchanged a look from the backseat of the car. Chan even looked over his shoulder and to Minho once more, albeit this time in disbelief.

“They’re on a date?” The four exclaimed incredulously, the combined volumes of their voice seemingly rocking the car much to Minho’s annoyance.

“With who?” Hyunjin, your own junior in the English Studies Department at university, asked next. Being seated in the middle, he coincidentally met Minho’s tensed expression through the rearview mirror as he sat up, the older boy’s disapproving expression confirming a thought at the back of his mind. “No way!“

“Who? Who?” Changbin asked, aggressively tapping on Hyunjin’s shoulders.

Minho sighed, waving his right hand dismissively while his left hand easily gave his true feelings away as it gripped on the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “They went on a date with Juyeon. No big deal.”

Chan, with his uncomfortably close view of Minho’s knuckles, snickered in response. “Right, no big deal.” He said before propping an elbow up on the compartment between the seats, more sober now than five minutes ago. “So that’s not why you’re about to break your own steering wheel?”

When Hyunjin, Jisung, and Changbin tried to lean forwards and peek at Minho, they’re immediately swatted off by the driver himself without his eyes leaving the road.

“I’m holding my steering wheel fine, thanks.” Minho rolled hus eyes, hunching further forwards. “Y/N can go out with whoever they like, it’s whatever. I just don’t get why Juyeon would leave them out in the middle of nowhere after a date because of some emergency. It’s a date for crying out loud!”

“Well, did he say what kind of emergency?” Changbin asked, looking out the window to witness the lamp posts grow in numbers and the heights of the condominiums grow taller. “Juyeon is a pretty busy dude.”

“Does it matter? Either way, it’s common courtesy to make sure that your date gets home.” Minho pointed out, stepping on the gas pedal as less cars remain on the road. “And Juyeon knows as much as we do how apprehensive Y/N gets commuting on their own at night. Tsk, I expected better from him.”

Jisung whistled lowly, feeling Minho’s rage from directly behind him. “Or you just wish it was you in his place, dude.”

“What? No.”

“You wouldn’t be this mad if it were Yeji or Ryujin in Y/N’s position right now.”

“I’d still react the same but I know those two can drive and commute so it’s different.” Minho retorted as he expertly swerves lanes and takes the right exit to the shopping district. “Besides, Y/N’s a childhood friend and—“

“You feel extremely protective of them, we know.” The three passengers interjected in chorus, Hyunjin rolling his eyes from Minho’s rearview mirror view.

Minho sighed, taking another right turn. Soon, the fairy lights and hand-painted sign of the Fall bazaar you previously took a picture or and sent to him at the start of the evening came into view. “Unlike us, they’ve only been here in the city for a while. I don’t trust people easily when it comes to them.”

“He means he doesn’t trust people with Y/N but himself.” Changbin teased, the other three snickering in response and Minho rolling his eyes.

The car pulled over near the entrance right in front of you, a bright grin on your face that, for Minho, competes with the bright lights until it fell when he opened the windows and revealed his other passengers.

“Get in.” Minho instructed through unconsciously gritted teeth, a soft unlocking sound echoing inside the car as he pressed a button on his side to unlock the doors.

Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung greeted you with half-sober smiles and waves and you returned them politely from your view on Chan’s fully open window before scurrying off to the back, sliding in next to Changbin and closing the door.

The car clicked lock once you’re settled, your bag and bouquet of sunflowers in your lap while your corner’s seatbelt slung over your torso. Minho then turned his rearview mirror to you.

“Where’s Juyeon?“

“Dorm emergency.” You answered with a sheepish smile and a hand to the nape of your neck. It’s a half-lie, Juyeon did get a call from his roommate towards the end of the night but the original plan was to just fake your date then being stranded to test if Minho would come and get you. “Someone lit the kitchen on fire, apparently.”

“So?“

You shrugged as nonchalantly as you can, though you’re shuddering on the inside as Minho glared at you through the mirror. “So? What?”

“So what? He couldn’t make a simple stop to your place or something?” Minho groaned in frustration, leaning back in his seat. He then turned the rearview mirror away, bringing the hand pedal down and moving the gear stick to ‘Drive.’ “You know what, nevermind, I’ll talk to him later.”

A chorus of ooh’s and aah’s echoed in the car as Minho drove away from the bazaar and towards the direction back to campus. He then mentioned something to the boys about dropping off Chan first as they’ve originally plan before you messaged while you sank in your seat, the sunflower bouquet’s Japanese paper wrapper crinkling on your lap.

You immediately reached into your bag and opened your phone, texting your accomplice who was probably already back in his dorms, near the one where Chan lives in.

y/n: dude, we’re in deep shit 💀

juyeon: why? minho didn’t pick you up? do you actually need a ride home now 😭

y/n: he did like you said and i’m literally losing my mind! but he’s mad at you because of it and he might talk to you tomorrow!

It took Juyeon a while to respond so you looked up from your phone only to see Minho fully glance at you from over his shoulder, scoffing when he saw your phone in your hands before hitting the gas pedal harder.

You and everyone else in the car were immediately pulled back with the sudden picking up of the car’s speed.

juyeon: oh i’ll do okay it’s just minho. but what about you? will you tell him that tonight was just a fake date to test him?

y/n: duh of course not 😭👎🏽 that’ll mean i’ll have to tell him i like him and he’ll probably think i’m stupid or something

“Better stupid than rejected though, right?” Changbin suddenly spoke up dangerously close to your ear, making you jump in shock at seeing him peeking over your shoulder.

“Changbin, what the fuck?” You nudged him in the ribcage with your elbow, pushing him away from you as heat rose up to your neck.

“Ya, turn it down, I’m trying to concentrate on the road.” Minho complained snappily, the heat on your neck quickly climbing up to your face at this.

“So, you weren’t on a real date?” Changbin mouthed instead, hand even covering his mouth for extra protection from Minho’s lingering gaze.

You shook your head no, typing out your response quickly on your phone: Juyeon bet 10,000 won that Minho would get jealous if we go on a fake date then upped it by another 10,000 that he would pick me uo if I get stranded on the other side of town.

Changbin laughed loudly in response, much to Minho’s annoyance. “Quiet or I’ll really pull over and stick you in the trunk.”

Changbin ignored him, turning to you and nudging your side with his elbow this time. “You shouldn’t doubt Minho, he’s literally whipped for you.”

“He looks like he’s going to murder me through the rearview mirror.” You whispered with a shrug.

“He’s just jealous, like Juyeon said. Cut him some slack.” Changbin pointed out, kicking Minho’s seat when he complained about your whisperings again. “You should explain it to him before you get home.”

“And tell him tonight was a bet?” You mouthed this time, shaking your head once more. “No thank you!”

“Then just omit that part, genius. Shouldn’t be hard.” With that, Changbin tore his attention away from you and to the conversation Jisung and Chan are having, leaving you dumbfounded.

So you told yourself that you’ll explain when he drops you off at your dorms last, leaning back more comfortably in your seat and busying yourself with looking out the window.

This plan, however, was quickly foiled when Hyunjin complained about feeling dizzy that Minho has to pull over to the nearest gasoline station. While Chan helped Hyunjin out to the adjacent convenience store, Changbin excused himself to the bathroom and dragged Jisung with him, effectively leaving you and Minho in the dead silence of the car.

“Are you just going to ignore me all night?” You frowned, leaning your torso to the left with your hand on the leather seats. “Minho. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Then stop looking mad.”

“What do you mean?” He tried his best to soften his glare but to no avail. “This is my thinking face.”

You sighed in exasperation. “Whatever. Anyway, there won’t be a second date.”

“There won’t?”

You nodded, a small smile settling on your face as his back turned to you visibly relaxed and a small sigh came from his side of the car.

“It wouldn’t have worked out, anyway. Juyeon and I are better off friends.” You shrugged, trying your best to bite your lower lip down from grinning too much as Minho leaned back in his seat at your words then tensing up again at your next, “Besides, I like someone else.”

“Wait what?” He then turned his head over his shoulder, his streased out gaze now boring directly to you. “What the hell? Who?”

Outside the windows, you saw the boys coming out from the convenience store where the car is parked. Not wanting them to hear the rest of your conversation, you shrugged in response, “That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You giggled, almost laughing when he opened his mouth to protest before the other guys climbed back in the car and returned the normal chaos in it.

[lets-talk-spirituality]

Hip Hop Playlist

Because nothing can make you feel cockier than rap! And 2023 is a year for cockiness after spending years being way too humble.

🎤🎧🎸🥁🎹🎺🎻🎷🪗🪇🪈🪕🪘🎤🎧🎸🥁

DNA- Kendrick Lamar

My Hood- Jeezy

All Day-Kanye West

Piss on your grave— Travis Scott

U Mad? — Vic Mensa

I’m different—2 Chainz

Ain’t I— Yung LA

Rubberband Man— TI

Rubberband Man— A$AP Ferg

Beat It— Young Dolph

U guessed it— OG Maco

Final Warning— NLE Choppa

Not Nice—Megan Thee Stallion

Bricks— Gucci Mane

Halle Berry—Hurricane Chris

Hard in da Paint— Waka Flocka Flame

Grove St Party— Waka Flocka Flame

Snap Yo Fingers— Lil Jon

Hypnotized— Plies

U don’t know me— T.I.

We Luv Deez Hoez— OutKast

Yeah Right— Vince Staples

Smoke & Retribution— Flume

No Long Talk— Drake

John— Lil Wayne

Money in the Grave—Drake

Suge— DaBaby

Throw Some Ds— Rich Boy

You was right— lil uzi vert

Bitch—moneybagg yo

Press—Cardi B

No Frauds— Nicki Minaj

Party Up— DMX

Hold It, Now Hit It— Beastie Boys

Fuck that shit— Three 6 Mafia

Birdz— wuki

Materialism as a means to an end—$uicideboy$

Love Again— Run the Jewels

Gas Pedal—Sage the Gemini

Whole Lotta Choppas— Sade ft Nicki Minaj

Whole lotta money— Bia

Bills paid— Dj Khaled

All Ass— Migos

Fuckwitmeyouknowigotit—Jay Z

Track Star Remix— Mooski

Lookin’ Boy— Hot Stylz

Thick— Dj Chose

Laffy Taffy— D4L

The way I live— Baby Boy Da Prince

Independent— Webbie

Roll Out (My Business)— Ludacris

Holidae Inn— Chingy

HAM— Kanye West

Backseat Freestyle— Kendrick Lamar

Diana— Pop Smoke

Blasé— Ty Dolla Sign

IV. sweatpants— Childish Gambino

Hella Neck—Carnage

Bricks—Carnage

I Like Tuh— Carnage

Going through changes—Eminem

Yahhh!— Soulja Boy

Still Dre— Dr. Dre

Nuthin’ But A G Thang— Dr. Dre

Pressurelicious—Megan Thee Stallion

Hot N****— Bobby Shmurda

Don’t Like— Chief Keef

Panda— Desiigner

Swing— Savage

Tie Me Down— New Boyz

Mrs Right— Mindless Behavior

Shake Senora— Pit Bull

Dance (ASS)— Big Sean

Amen— Meek Mill

Started—Iggy Azalea

Look At Me!— XXXTENACION

All Gold Everything—Trinidad James

Famous—21 Savage

Enough— Flume/Pusha T

You Be Killin ‘Em—Fabolous

Country Grammer— Nelly

Lock Jaw— French Montana

We Fly High—Jim Jones

Move (If You Wanna)—Mims

Rock Yo Hips— Crime Mob

I Know You See It— Yung Joc

Hood N****— Gorilla Zoe

Throw Some Mo—Rae Sremmurd

Flex (Ohh, Ohh, Ohh)— Rich Homie Quan

My N****— YG

Flex Like Ouu— Lil Pump

Whoopty— CJ

Shoulder Lean—Young Dro

Ridin’ Dirty— Chamillionaire

Lean Back— Terror Squad

Where the bag at—City Girls

Stupid— Ashnikko

Spoil My Night—Post Malone

Slow Motion—Juvenile

Too much sauce— Future

Lean Wit it Rock Wit It— Dem Franchize Boyz

P.I.M.P— 50 Cent

[dojunie]

MISDIAL; LJN [CH 4 TEASER] PICK UP THE PHONE!

[★]; [MISDIAL MASTERLIST]

info;

lee jeno x fem!reader

college au

chaptered

slow burn

genre; not-quite-friends to lovers, older brother mark lee, brothers best friend lee jeno, light angst, eventual smut, yn is a menace to society, story/character driven

warnings for this teaser; none

teaser wc: 2k / comment on this post for taglist!

taglist:@hibernatinghamster@jenoxygen@eaglesnotravens@donutswithjaminthemiddle@jvjsssnaa@huangrenhyucks@luvenshiti@shiningdery@jaeminsbebu@aliceinwhateverland@bebsky@gem-gem@jkjkseo@jenosbliss@pewpewpwe00@ti–red@philanarose@softbbyg0rl@aaasteroidsky@carelessshootanonymous@en-boyz@jlsavyy@roseymerrie@bangchanisemo@skuezk@jaehyuns-adorable-dimples@ourbeautifulaffair@jeonnyread@jvjsssnaa@episkeyjeno@bockhyun@jenojammin@zarastrawberry@peachie-bear @itadaramaterasu @alymii @cuteejeno @episkeyjeno @nohunlee@ooojisoo@luv4jeno @jydivrs @pinkysinnerbaby @jenojenoyes @maeyoung @axmdocs @nctzennikki09

[a/n] jeno lovers this is for you... thank you all for sticking around through these random long ass hiatus(es?), i promise the full chapter is being worked on and coming soon. here is a longer teaser for your trouble. i love u.

.

.

.

“SO. ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT?”

It’s 7:38AM, and Jeno has finally driven for long enough that the Palisades building is no longer looming in his rearview mirror. In a perfect world he’d be heading back to his apartment right now to sleep away the next twelve hours of his life— but Jeno’s life has not been perfect since you moved back to Seoul, and he knows even before Donghyuck finishes speaking that the following conversation is going to be unbearable.

The man in the backseat slurps obnoxiously from the thermos he’s got at his lips. “Frankly, I’m a little suspicious that we’re not already talking about it. Because there is like… no chance neither of you have anything to say about all of that.”

“All of what,” Jaemin thankfully asks, nonplussed. “Your sudden closeness with little Jeon?”

Donghyuck scoffs, taking another loud sip from the borrowed bedazzled cup. The contents held within is fresh brewed coffee courtesy of the small Starbucks Jeon Somi’s has on her kitchen counter, and he’s practically perched on top of the center console because he’s leaning so far forward. “No, prick. Don’t even start. All of that being last fucking night. You know,” he prods very pointedly, “At Wooyoung’s?”

For a split second, Jeno’s mind goes completely elsewhere.

Wooyoung’s. The guy was more Jaemin’s friend than his but he’d been invited to the party anyway, initially with a polite promise to swing by for an hour or two before clearing out to avoid the storm rolling in. Then, a few hours later in Mark’s place, you. Wandering into the apartment none the wiser to his presence, lost and squinting into the depths of your phone; and the only thing Jeno can remember from the seconds before you looked up and shut him out again was wondering how the hell he didn’t notice how much you’d changed. 

If he was being honest, it's something that's been bothering him since that night at Nabi Bar. Because… you’d always been cute. Ask anybody with eyes. In highschool you were cute enough that sometimes Jeno didn’t quite understand why no one else seemed to be thinking about it as much as he was. Everything you did made him want to pick you up and shake you like a dog with a new toy. But somewhere along the lines, this…shifted. 

“What about Wooyoung’s?” Jaemin sighs. “We were there for like, four hours. You’re going to have to be more—”

“You and Y/N,” Donghyuck says unrepentantly, striking right to the heart of his curiosity. “Mark’s birthday up in the woods, the lake house, whatever the fuck happened there. Y/N’s truth or drink question. To be specific.”

Jeno isn’t the best at understanding his own feelings, and he’ll admit that easily. So if he’s being serious about when he first realized something had shifted, when he noticed that something was undeniably different about you— he’d, coincidentally, also have to point a finger towards the weekend they all spent at the lake house. It was the first time he’d seen you in nearly four months. He’d shown up at Mark’s place with the van full of guys and hung out downstairs in the same living room that he used to spend every afternoon screwing around in before college came and whisked them all away, and waited for you and Mark to come down. And— And, he’s not proud of this, but— Well.

Well, when you did eventually reveal yourself, when you finally found his eyes amongst the crowd of his friends perking up at your arrival… he’d kind-of been expecting a bigger reaction. 

He’d been working out more, is all. And he’d grown his hair out for the first time since he was a little kid, and had finally grown accustomed to the pokey, itchy world of contacts. He looked different. He felt different. He’d just finished his first year of college and was definitely feeling a little too cool about it. And in highschool you used to look at him like he had done something great for just simply existing— so he’d been ready for you to all but drop when you saw him now— but you’d run your gaze over Jeno for what felt like half a second before turning to Renjun, smiling widely at this new guy like you’d been waiting to meet him and only him. 

And he remembers being… confused.

That had been the first clue that something about you (or, maybe, something about him) had changed.

“Na Jaemin. You are absolutely not going to sit here and not explain what the hell she was talking about.”

“It was over a year ago,” Jaemin replies belatedly. The tense beat of silence that followed Donghyuck’s question was nothing to be envied, but Jeno almost instantly preferred that to actually hearing… this. Whatever this is about to be. “And you heard her. There’s nothing to explain. She was getting over someone, I was getting over someone, and like most stupid teenagers do, we did the only thing that came to mind—”

“Okay but you understand that she’s not like most stupid teenagers, right? You hooked up with Mark’s little sister. On his birthday. At his birthday party. Did you have a death wish? Why are you both acting like this isn’t breaking goddamn news?”

“Because it isn’t news,” Jaemin mutters sharply, starting to sound a little agitated. “For a myriad of reasons. Can you please not phrase it like I was trying to seduce the Virgin Mary?”

“I’m not phrasing it like anything! I just… I mean, you’re not seriously going to pretend like this isn’t absolutely insane, right?”

“What about two people hooking up is so insane to you?”

Donghyuck seems flabbergasted by this. “Jaemin. Everything. Everything about it is insane. Because it’s not just two people ‘hooking up’. Of all the people on earth you could have— and trust me, the number of options you have is high, I’ve heard some of the shit the girls on campus say about you— you chose her? The single person on this earth that Mark would flay you alive for even—”

Jaemin snaps his eyes to the rearview mirror, and Donghyuck’s words cut a little short. He’s reached the end of his rope.

“Donghyuck, is Y/N a human being to you?”

A very, very stagnant second passes.

“Or is she just some attachment to Mark, some little doll with no will or power of her own? You realize that this is why she hates being around us so much, right? Why she’s never around in her own apartment? Did you even notice that you’ve only ever said her name once in this whole bullshit conversation? Do you know what you’ve been calling her?”

Jaemin’s question hangs in the air like a physical weight. 

Mark’s little sister. That’s what Donghyuck had been mindlessly referring to her as. The realization hits Jeno like a punch— his hand tightens around the steering wheel with immediate guilt; guilt for not even noticing how interchangeably they’d all been using the words in the first place and, much deeper down, knowing that even if Jaemin wasn’t talking to him, Jeno was definitely the worst culprit in the vein of only seeing you as an extension of your brother. 

That’s basically what you’d told him on the balcony before you left and took half of his spirit with you. 

“Jae... that’s not what I meant,” Donghyuck says, sufficiently scolded. All the gossip-seeking enthusiasm has drained from his voice. Now he just sounds sorry. “You know that’s not what I meant. That’s not how any of us see her.”

“I know that,” Jaemin replies quietly, returning his gaze to the window. “She doesn’t.”

They ride in silence for almost a whole block before Jaemin sighs.

“If you want to know so bad, freak— she found me after I got off the phone with Jurin for the last time. Sometime while you guys were off gathering wood for the campfire.” 

For a moment Jeno genuinely doesn’t know what he’s talking about. A millisecond later Donghyuck perks up from the backseat though, and that’s never a good thing.

“At… At the lake house?” he says tentatively.

“At the lake house,” Jaemin nods. 

Shit, Jeno thinks. Fuck. 

“Y/N found out that she and I broke up, I found out that she was having guy problems of her own, and we basically had compliment-time to make each other feel better. The next time I saw her was when you guys left to go camping and we stayed back. I was watching a movie in the living room and she asked if she could join me because she couldn’t sleep, and— And after that you can put two and two together. That’s it.”

“Prude,” Donghyuck mutters. When Jaemin shoots him another look in the mirror though, he’s the perfect picture of innocence. “—Is what I would have said, if you were talking about any other girl, ha ha. Anyway! Did you guys kiss?”

Jeno's arms tense up so quickly that he almost swerves into oncoming traffic. 

“Fucking hell—! Hey! You’ve got precious cargo back here, jackass!”

“Pothole,” Jeno grunts. 

He’s lying through his teeth. But it’s the only thing he could think of. There’s no such thing as a pothole out here— they’re in Gangnam, on a main goddamn road, but he can almost feel Jaemin’s eyes on the side of his face, so keeps his eyes sharply forward despite the fact that his ears are no doubt already starting to flush pink from discomfort. 

“I’m not telling you that,” Jaemin replies after a second. “Voyeur.”

“What? What type of sense does that make? You two literally fucked on our communal couch, but asking about a kiss is too—”

Even if it feels like every nerve instantly lights ablaze under his skin from this comment, Jeno is much better about controlling his expression this time around. It probably wouldn’t have mattered because in the moment after the words left Donghyuck’s mouth Jaemin whirled around in his seat to pinch him, a sharp grab at his thigh that had the boy yowling in surprise— and then immediately thereafter, agony, because Jaemin’s strength is nothing to sneeze at. 

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jaemin hisses. “Firstly, don’t be crass, before I actually pinch you where it hurts. And secondly, not a word of this is leaving this car. Do you understand, Lee Donghyuck? If you tell anybody—”

“Okay, okay!” Donghyuck cries out. “Fuck, do you have razors under your nails?! I think I’m bleeding!”

“If anyone asks me anything about the lake house in the next few days that’s only what's first to come,” Jaemin replies darkly. “I’m serious. You can laugh about it all you want but we all know exactly how Mark is going to react if he finds out, and I’m not interested in playing the odds on whether he ends my life via strangulation or vicious beating.”

Donghyuck mutters to himself, still rubbing at the spot where Jaemin sniped him. He’s thinking of ways to reassure Jaemin, probably. (Or so Jeno hopes, because the younger him could have surely used some reassurance that Mark possibly wouldn’t have tried to kill him where he stood if, back in highschool, he’d ignored your brother's wishes entirely and actually told you how he felt.)

Jeno is probably listening even harder than Jaemin when Donghyuck simply whistles and says, “Remember when we all watched him punch that watermelon in half during spirit week? Back in our senior year, when they were still finding chunks of it a week later in, like, the ceiling rafters and shit? I think my money is on him beating you to death.”

And on that very positive note, Jeno flicked his turn signal on and coasted into the lane that would take them right back to SNU.

[thanks for reading! full chapter coming sooooon ♡]

[ksbbb]

Rules: pick a song for each letter of your URL and tag that many people

Tagged by @disasterpenguin

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Okay this was hard 😂😂😂. Had to go old school on a few due to my URL.

Tagging @wolfboy88 @chasing-chimeras @maplefire18 @sydney-winchester @amatchinwater