#bang chan slow burn fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

forlix · 8 months ago

Text

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you.

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere.

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «[email protected]» To: Park Jinyoung «[email protected]» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?”

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to hit his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall. Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation.

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath.

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you.

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle.

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly.

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.”

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade.

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment.

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes.

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting.

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything your schedule allows.

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything.

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation.

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights.

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead.

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?”

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass.

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know?

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago.

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek.

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes.

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration.

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off.

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?”

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will.

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «[email protected]» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «[email protected]» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back.

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline.

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. But only sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It really fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I’ll genuinely commit homicide if I have to do all this again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

🔖 (send an ask to be added)・@astraystayyh・@like-a-diamondinthesky・@fire-08・@starsandrqindrops・@txtxlz・@laylasbunbunny・@strayghibli・@nuronhe・@seungminsapuppy・@vivisoni・@moon0fthenight・@sweetpickledjins・@svintsandghosts・@nhyunn ・@ur-boyfiend・@liknws・@hotgorloikawa・@randomwimp・@automaticpersonabatpaper・@aceofvernons・@linos-kitten・@newhope8・@weedforthoughtz・@hyunverse

3K notes · View notes

c0llisiion · 10 months ago

Text

★Pairing: lee know x bang chan + f!reader

★genre: smut

★: npr, drabble , threesome , bf!minho x reader x chan , filth , oral , cum eating , unprotected sex — lmk if i missed any!!

★W/C: 916

A/N: 2 posts back to back?! wrote this fic back in oct of 2023 and was js letting it rot in my drafts 😭 so I finally decided to post it hehe FIRST SKZ FICS AH- enjoy pookies <3 (p.s i was rlly h0rknee for minchan when i wrote this so please have mercy.)

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck" were the only words echoing throughout the room, along with the sound of your skin clapping against Chan's abdomen. "Fuck c-chan, right..the-re," you said in between loud moans. Chan was fucking you mercilessly. Ass up, and your face is buried in the pillow, collecting your hot tears.

You could feel a pair of eyes burning into your body as Chan kept fucking you. It was your boyfriend. Minho. He was sitting in the corner, watching every move and analyzing every sound you were making. To begin with, it was his idea to have Chan fuck you. He insisted on it. “Fuck Minho How are you ever able to control yourself when you are with her ... F-fuckkk” Chan said. But Minho ignored his words and just kept staring at you. He was growing jealous. Hearing you moan like this over another man's cock was not sitting right with him. Minho got up from his place and climbed on the bed to face you. Chan got the signal and pulled your arm back, and his pace slowed down. This made you face Minhos crotch. He lifted your chin up using his fingers. You were looking up at him with teary eyes and a fucked-out face. His eyes were filled with lust and rage.. "You liked getting fucked by other men, huh?" He said it tauntingly. You shook your head. "Look, how well you are taking Chan’s cock? It feels good, right?" You shook your head once again. He slapped you, not too harshly. He leaned in closer. "Now don't say that, baby. You know how much it will hurt Channie Hyung?" Chan thrust harshly into you, making your face contort in pleasure. He looked at the older man and gave him a wink. You could see the way he was grinning. "Do you want to have Channie's cock or my cock inside of you now?" ,, "Y-y-you" he shoved his fingers into your mouth. Playing with your tongue. "You are not going to get it, love." Your face turned sad. Minho put his hand behind your head, gathering a handful of your hair. He pulled out his dick. "Let me fuck your face." He said it with a devilish smirk on his face. "Open wide, doll.." Chan leaned in and whispered in your ears. Minho tapped your cheek with his dick, and you opened your mouth willingly. He quickly shoved it in and started fucking your face. Your eyes filling up. Loud, muffled moans left your mouth as Chan started abusing your puffy cunt once again while Minho fucked into your mouth with no care. His grip on your hair tightened as you gagged and spasmed around his length, your throat perfectly molded for his dick. Minhos eyes were closed and his head thrown back; eyebrows furrowed as curses left his mouth. “S-shitt… You are doing so well, baby..” he said while pushing away the stray hairs on your face. Chan, on the other hand, was fucking you into tomorrow. His hands were on your ass cheeks, spreading them as he observed the way you sucked in his cock. "Minho, look at how well she is taking me … “ he praised you. Minho smirked. “Ya hear that slut? You like being someone else’s fuck toy, don't you?” You moaned against his dick. You felt Chans dick twitch inside of you, as well as Minhos, signaling that they were close. “Im going to fuck!” Chan loudly cursed at how you clenched around him. He eventually pulled out, the sudden emptiness making you whine and cry more. He started jerking himself off, trying to reach his final high. Minho did the same; he made you lay on your back as they both kneeled in front of your face. Their hands were picking up pace as they started jerking themselves. curses after curses left their mouths. You laid there as you fondled with their heavy cum filled balls. “G-give it to me.. please.. fuck- i need your cum all over my face…”

Chan busted over your chest and body. A heavy load of his creamy, clear cum coated your sweaty body. You moaned and coughed, spreading the mixture all over your swollen tits using chans Hand. Chan groaned as he watched you take his fingers and put them in your mouth, sucking and licking his cum-covered digits with a sultry smile. You turned to Minho before using your hands to guide his own down his length. “Cum on my face minho.. need it so bad… i need you.. come on you can do it..” you encourage him, as he seemed to be struggling. “Fuck-“ Minho grunted as he watched suck on his tip while you stared into his eyes. Within a blink of an eye, Minho shot his load onto your face. You let him paint your face with his cum. Your eye getting glued shut by the sticky substance. He took deep breaths, his eyes focused on the way your lips licked his cum off of them. Minho’s thumb scooped the glob of cum that was on your eye before spreading it over your clean lips and pushing his thumb through your lips for you to suck on. He had a shit-eating smirk on his face as he watched you. You turned over to look at Chan, who laid next to you, caressing your bruised hip. You gave him a smile.“Was I a good girl?” You asked both of them.

“The bestest girl.”

A/N: THANKS 4 READINGGGG! ILYSMMMM reblogs and comments are appreciated! Lmk if I should write more skz smut eheh

1K notes · View notes

crookedt44th · 4 months ago

Text

ೃ⁀➷ fanfic recommendations

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!!! just wanted to make a list so i can come back and read them again! please do let me know if the links doesn't work or linked to a wrong fic! i also did not realize how much im really into strangers to lovers au lord.

if you want your works taken down, let me know

skz masterlists/series

stray kids coffee shop series | all fluff and bit of angst! @hanjisick

to all the crushes (half of skz x reader) | fluff, angst, suggestive content(?). by okayau

hot bitch summer; the skz series | fratboy au, smut. @hyunsvngs

@seospicybin 's masterlist | includes all smut, fluff, and angst.

bold (minsung x reader) | smut. @/hyunsvngs

hopeless in love (ao3) (minsung and reader) | mlm themes, friends to lovers, college au, humor, hurt/comfort. by lucspear [this is VERY fun and cute to read! id read this a thousand times over again!]

bang chan

600 degrees (ao3) | neighbors au, fluff. by the7thcrow

lee minho

blue side of the sky | exes to lovers, best friends to lovers au, fluff, angst, smut. @hyunfilms

when the cat dragged in | smut, angst, strangers to lovers. @moni-logues

lost in translation | smut, strangers to lovers. @moonjxsung huge fan of u dude

dead butterflies | toxic relationships, drug and alcohol abuse, cheating, unrequited love. @lavenderhhaze

invisible thread, part one and two | university au, academic rivals to lovers, slow burn, fluff, VERY angst. @astraystayyh

the only exception | strangers to lovers, slow burn. @astraystayyh

she's like the wind | fluff, angst, smut. @nczennie

you saved that for the end | angst, smut. @pearbunny

message in a bottle | smut with a plot. @chxnsaphrodite

Mr. Gorgeous | fluff, slight angst, college au. @cryinginmyroomsposts

photograph | college au, smut. @minniesmutt

when he sees me (ao3) | smut, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, neighbors au. by candle_wax_and_polaroids

do you feel my hand? it is there | strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, smut. @blossomwritesthings

what you deserve | college au, smut, angst, fluff. @2chopsticks2eyes

bunny | strangers to lovers, neighbors au, smut, angst, fluff. @tasteleeknow

million dollar man | smut. @ybklix

unrequited & unmatched | focused on lee know and hwang hyunjin (not as pairing), angst, smut, romance (do read warnings on these series though). @jl-micasea-fics

poisonous tears | angst, suggestive content. @hoes4lino

a love letter i wish it didn't exist | romantic, angst, suggestive. @hoes4lino

perfect | light angst, fluff, suggestive. @linospuddin

invisible string | soulmate au, smut, light angst, strangers to friends to lovers, friends with benefits. @moonlinos

when things were simple | 90s romance, school romance, best friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, online au, high school au. @sunboki

there's always time | family au, fluff, smut, angst. @dreamescapeswriting

hwang hyunjin

dear farmer | very fluffy! @puppym3

a train, her lips, the music (ao3) | fluff, beautifully romantic. by the7thcrow

star lost with you (ao3) series still ongoing | idol au, strangers to lovers, friends to lovers, unrequited love, angst, fluff, smut, SLOW BURN. by hyunjinspark

han jisung

reckless convictions | college au, beautifully romantic, smut. @/moonjxsung

lee felix

seasons | smut, angst. @moonjxsung requested by me :)))

off the deep end | post-apocalypse au, enemies to lovers, angst, romance, suggestive content. @stayxlix

the bodyguard | enemies to lovers, parental abuse, very angst with evntual happy ending, smut. @skzdarlings

indulgence | vampire au, forbidden love, college au. by the17thcrow

solace (ao3) | 1990s era, friends to lovers, fluff. by fizzydrink698

fading inure (ao3) | vampire au, smut. by hanjizung

vexatious vixen | strangers to enemies to lovers, smut, romantic comedy. @skzdarlings [this fic is actually funny and VERY intense to read. i've been waiting for smth like this. LOVE IT!]

the siren on the stage | smut. @bunnliix

lee felix's guide to hating you | college au, tutor au, fluff, angst, slice of life, slow burn. @yyxgin

churchboy felix | fluff, smut, teen angst. @skzcollision

something in the air | smut. @propertyoftoru

gone boy, gone bad | suggestive, slight enemies to lovers, gangster au, fluff. @starlostseungmin

my girl | smut. @hyunjinniesgirl

bad romance | smut, angst, fluff, slow burn, bad boy au, punk au. @straykeedz

will update more later! i rlly hope to read other ffs of other members soon LOL

#stray kids x reader #bang chan x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #seo changbin x reader #hwang hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #lee felix x reader #kim seungmin x reader #yang jeongin x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids imagines

353 notes · View notes

minnie--verse · 1 year ago

Text

First Date Pt. 4/Final part! (Bang Chan x Reader)

!!PART 4/FINALE!!

summary: Day to day life was perfectly uneventful, you wake up, go to work, make coffee, go home, and start all over again. But today... you met Chan. And you continue to meet chan... every day.

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, mostly fluff, some anger from mc, later chapters to include: slight angst/comfort, slow burn.

general warnings: barista!mc, slow burn, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, cursing, mentions of death.

word count: ~4.8k

chapter content: mentions of food, coffee shop manager!Changbin, nonidol!Chan, nonidol!Han, first meets, first love flutters.

author's note: The last and final part of my mini series! This was based off the song I Think I Know You by Sarah Barrios and Eric Nam! Please give it a listen for the full experience!! I'm so glad to see so many people who enjoyed this series, I had originally meant to just write it for my best friend and leave it in google drive lol but I figured why not share it with everyone on here anyway yk? ANYWAY PLEASE ENJOY IT!!!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Chris’s eyes were wide as he stared at you, searching for some kind of answer from your eyes. Something finally broke through to you, and Chris had to know what it was in case it doesn’t happen tomorrow. He had put too much effort and time into you to let this just slip out of his fingers. He let out a soft laugh and moved his head to be in your line of sight.

“No, no, what did you remember?” Chris persists, smiling through the surprise in his eyes.

You laughed slightly, taking the football from his hands and holding it up, “It’s nothing I just-- I must have dreamt it, but I remember playing this with someone.”

You had to’ve dreamed it, it was the only excuse you could come up with. Chris is just a new customer to the cafe, and you’ve never met him ever in your life. You laugh it off, and look down at the cafe table with a light flush on your cheeks.

“I must have a knack for embarrassing myself in front of strangers,” You sigh as you recover from the moment.

Chris couldn’t think of anything to say. His heart was beating so fast and hard that he was afraid you could hear it from across the table, and all he could do was smile knowing you had remembered him from day one.

He cleared his throat, and placed his phone down on the table, “I don't think it’s embarrassing,” He pauses, “Anything else seem… familiar?”

You pressed your lips together and stood up from the table, wondering how weird you’d seem if you told him that his voice specifically was in your head, “Uhm, not… not really.” You shake your head at him, and straighten your apron.

“Yo! Chris--”

A loud voice echoes through the cafe, and you turn your head behind you to see another guy quickly approaching Chris with a big smile and a computer bag hanging from his shoulder. His smile was almost as infectious as Chris’s and you took a step back from the table so he could sit with his friend.

You watch Chris’s eyebrows knit together, and his eyes flicker across his friend’s face in confusion, “Han?”

Han looked at you for a moment and then back to Chris, “Am I.. interrupting?” He asks, pointing between the two of you.

You quickly hold up your hands and shake your head, “Oh, uhm no. I just, uhm-- Thought he reminded me of someone but it was just a mistake.”

You watched the two boys exchange a glance you couldn’t quite discern, and Chris speaks up next with his eyes unblinking as he stares down Han, “Something about deja vu, you know how it is.”

You press your lips together into a tight smile before excusing yourself back to your work behind the counter. Despite the lighthearted exchange, the peculiar sensation lingers in the background.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

As you continue to steam milk and clean down the equipment, you can't shake the feeling that there's more to this odd memory than meets the eye. The cafe buzzes with activity, but in that moment, a subtle thread of mystery weaves through the air. When it slowed, you mindlessly sang along to whatever was playing overhead in order to relax and stop thinking about what had happened earlier.

Chris couldn’t help but listen when you sang. He’d heard it every day and he never grew tired of it, noticing you favored the softer, more indie feelings songs in comparison to the popular media that played between them. He always took his headphones down from his head and rested them around his neck just so he could hear you softly singing, imagining that one day maybe he’d be able to mix something just for you.

You glance up at the two of them every so often, more specifically, you look at Chris. You chew on your cheek in thought, something was odd about the memory but you couldn’t quite place it and it was driving you fucking crazy. You look at the two boys as they bicker about something on their computers, your hand slipping off the handle of the steamer and your arm touching the hot metal causing you to jerk your hand away with a hiss.

“Shit--” you whisper, glancing down at your fingers and inspecting it before looking around to see Changbin watching you with a raised brow and you give him a small thumbs up, “I’m alright, no worries.”

“And mentally?” Changbin says, drying off a white mug with a towel. “Your head has been literally anywhere but the cafe today.”

You shrug at him, dumping the over-steamed milk from the mug and pouring a fresh bit to re-steam, “My head is perfectly attuned to my work, Bin.”

“Sure, because you haven’t been staring at that guy for your whole shift,” Changbin says with an eyeroll before reaching for the mug in your hands and putting it aside to have your full attention, “Did he upset you? I can make him leave if--”

“No! God no, Bin,” You say quickly, carding your hands through your hair, “It was nothing, I just thought I knew him from somewhere.”

Changbin freezes as he stares you down, just blinking at you. It was as if he wasn’t sure how to react, “what do you mean by that?”

You make a face at Changbin and laugh a little, “It’s nothing serious, I just thought I had met him before but it was just a misunderstanding.”

Lie. You shift your weight and cross your arms over your chest. You watch Changbin turn over his shoulder and glare at Chris before looking back at you, squinting as he looks you up and down.

“And?”

“What do you mean?” You say quickly, scrunching your nose at him.

“Y/N, i know you better than you know how to make a decent cup of coffee. What else happened that you didn’t tell him?” Changbin pressed, nodding his head to where Chris and Han were seated. Unfortunately, having a best friend like him means he knows what’s going on in your head.

You huff and your arms fell from your chest, “I found this on my doormat this morning, and when I unfolded it I saw his name and order. The same one he placed today, so I asked him about it and--” you pause.

“Is he stalking you?” Changbin said quickly, unfolding the receipt and reading it for himself, “I can report him if he’s stalking you--”

“No--God, hover parent much?” You huff, pushing him gently, “Anyway, when I sat down with him we started talking and I flicked the football at him and I like-- I swear I remember playing that with him. I remember talking with him, but I swear I have never seen him before.”

Changbin stares at you over the paper in his hands, his mouth opens as if he was going to say something then he turns around to look at Chris. You take the receipt back out of his hands and fold it back up, and Changbin looks down at his empty hands before facing you again.

“Do you remember him?” He breathes.

“Yes and no?” You say with a half shrug while your face scrunches, “I thought maybe we had met before, but I think it’s just deja vu,” You say, returning to your cleaning tasks as your shift comes to an end.

Changbin smiles softly, and tosses the white towel he was holding over his shoulder, “Deja vu sounds about right,” he says, watching you continue your work.

You let out a sigh. Something about this isnt sitting right. Reaching behind your back, your fingers untangle the bow to your apron and slip it off over your head. There was something about looking at Chris that made you feel like you were closer than strangers, like he had some way of invading your memory without you even noticing. You punch out from your shift and reapproach Chris and Han as they chatter about some project they were working on.

“Dude, this song is all we have-- we have to turn it in. JYP isn’t going to be happy going yet another week without a new song,” Han huffs, leaning his chair onto the back two legs.

“Look, I know but if she’s starting to remember then putting this song out is a risk. I don't think it’s a good--” Chris stops in the middle of his sentence when he sees you approaching them and greets you with that same warm smile, “Hey again.”

“Uh, hey--” You start, awkwardly reaching into your back pocket and taking out the paper football in his hands and holding it out to him, “I just forgot to give you this.”

Chris takes it from your hands and flips it before placing it on the table, “Oh yeah, thank you.”

Before you could walk away, Han speaks up while gently resting his hand on the table as he leans towards you, “Hey, can we get your input on something?”

The sudden question catches you off guard, but if it was an excuse to talk to Chris and figure out what that memory was about then you weren’t going to deny it. You give a quick nod and take a seat next to Han.

“So we make music, and having an outsider’s perspective on our project helps a lot,” Han starts, pointing at his computer, “We’re turning this one in tomorrow and I feel like there’s something missing from it, would you give it a listen for me?”

Han was already handing you his headphones before you could object, the bulky black over ear headphones rested on top of your head comfortably. They matched the ones Chris was wearing and you could see a bit of a flush form on Chris’s face as he looked at his computer screen intensely, as to not make eye contact with you.

The music started, a gentle piano echoing slightly between your ears before you hear a voice come in, it’s mid pitched and soothing. Han watches you expectantly and Chris avoids eye contact with you as he types away.

The voice is incredible, and without even knowing it you were smiling as you listened to it. You silently point at Han, asking if it was him singing and you watched him shake his head no before pointing across the table at Chris; who looked mortified that you were listening to him sing.

You reach across and waved a hand near his computer screen to get his attention and when he finally looks up, you give him a smile and a thumbs up. His voice was the kind you hear and suddenly the world stopped spinning, giving you the entire moment to just take it in and enjoy hearing it to the fullest extent.

The music cuts out, and you slip off Han’s headphones and pass them to him gently before looking at Chris, “I… wow. That was actually amazing, Chris.”

“Thanks… Kinda embarrassing to have someone listen to your music right in front of you though you know?” CHris laughs gently, his eyes locking with Han’s as if he was warning him.

Han rolls his eyes before facing you, “I’m gonna be real, we need someone to duet with Chris in it.”

You raise your brows at the comment, shifting your eyes between the two boys, “I think that’s a great idea. It would balance out kind of like a story.”

Han looks pointedly as Chris while gesturing to you dramatically, “See!? I told you she’d do it.”

“Woah-- Hold on,” You say quickly, a tinge of uncertainty in your voice, "I'm not really used to singing for people, let alone two guys I don't really know. It's a bit out of my comfort zone."

There was literally no way in hell you were going to sing on a song for two--well… one guy you don't know and another you have hardly any memory of. The only singing you’d ever done was for yourself. You glance at Chris, seeking some reassurance. He gives you a wince of hope, trying to encourage you, but the reluctance still lingers. The thought of putting yourself out there feels intimidating.

"Come on, Y/N. It's just a small gig," Han insists, his eyes reflecting a genuine belief in your abilities. “You were singing just a little bit ago, I think you would be perfect for it.”

Despite his reassurances, a knot of reluctance tightens in your stomach. The fact you were even talking with two random people feels like a leap into the unknown, let alone in considering singing for them.

Chris passes you a notebook, “Here, these are the lyrics.”

You glance at the lyrics, imagining the notes resonating in the studio, and a mixture of excitement and apprehension tugs at your heart. The lyrics were close to home, and your eyes flicker at Chris. He had to’ve met me before and I just don't remember it.

After a moment of contemplation, you take a deep breath and meet their gaze. "Okay, let's do it. I'll give it a try."

A genuine excitement lights up Han's face, and Chris lets out a breath he was holding. You card your fingers through your hair and laugh embarrassingly before Han quickly packs up and drags you out of the cafe with Chris in tow.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

You stand still in a closed off room with a large window on the wall that allows you to see Han seated at the soundboard, “So… this is how you record then?”

Chris nods his head softly as he adjusts the microphone to match your height, “Yeah, this is the part of the studio that keeps all the outside noise at bay so we only pick up the audio we want.” Chris explains, tightening the knob to keep the microphone in place now that it was right where it should be.

You watched as Chris leaned over to the stand behind you, and you felt your chest tighten at the proximity to him. The warmth of his skin radiating enough for you to feel it before he stand up and gently places the headset over your ears. He leans back to look at your face, eyes flickering between your own, “comfortable?”

You nod, “y-yeah, they’re good,” you say, reaching up to touch the headphones on your head and giving Chris a smile as you shift your weight and he leaves you alone in the room. He takes a seat by Han and you watch as they speak a little bit in silence. Chris looks anxious, Han rolls his eyes at him and says something exasperated before turning to face the window and pressing a button.

“Can you hear us okay?” his voice booms into your headphones, and you give them a thumbs up.

“This feels insane,” You say with a small laugh, “Are you sure you don't want someone who is known for singing to do this?”

Chris shakes his head before finally looking at you, “Nah, you’ll do great, Y/N.” His signature smile was showing through with his words, and it made you feel at ease even when doing something as crazy as this. “You’ll have my track playing in the background so you can hear how the song is sung. We can re-take things so don’t stress if you mess up, yeah?”

You give him a thumbs up before you see Han put up his hand, counting down from five as you hear the music start playing in your ears. The delicate piano chords echo in your head again and you take a deep breath as Han finally reaches zero.

“You say down right at the corner of my table, and I don't know what it is but I swear I’m feeling deja vu.”

Your eyes closed and the lyrics moved past your lips almost effortlessly, you could hear yourself in the speakers of the headphones. When you open your eyes, Chris’s own meet yours as if he’d never looked away from you. As the music swells you watch him slowly spin the paper football in his fingers and your mind is flooded with the same memory from earlier.

You flick the folded paper and send it flying, over-shooting the goal and Chris letting out a small chuckle as he picks up the paper, “So do I get to know my opponent’s name anytime soon?” He says as he flicks it towards you, his eyes flicking up at you from your hands as you pick up the little paper.

“Y/N,” You say as you sink down into your chair to line up your shot, your tongue sticking out as you focus and send it flying through his hands. You glance up at him as he picks up the paper, “So are you like-- a part of a famous paper football league that I’ve not heard of?”

In a split second you find yourself transported to a different moment – the first time you met Chris. The memory floods your senses: the laughter, the shared conversation, and the spark of connection that had lingered in the air. It's as if a hidden door in your mind has swung open, revealing a scene that was once obscured.

“Swear I feel you in my memory, I think I’ve seen you in my dreams. Maybe you and I have history but I don’t think you know me--”

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you stop singing, the weight of this recollection settles over you. The realization is overwhelming, like a sudden rush of emotions that you weren't prepared for. Faces in the cafe become blurred, replaced by the vivid image of Chris, his smile etched into the canvas of your memory.

“If there was a league, I’d be famous by now and you would have had to ask me for my name at the register,” he says with a playful head nod as he continues to flick the paper back and forth between the two of you, “But unfortunately there’s not, so I make music.”

"You make music?" you ask with a teasing glint in your eyes, "I thought you were auditioning for NSYNC with that outfit."

He looks down at himself, an amused expression playing on his face. "What's wrong with my outfit? I thought it was a fashion statement."

You lean in, pretending to inspect his ensemble with exaggerated seriousness, "Well, if the statement is 'I'm bringing back the '90s,' then mission accomplished,” you bring your hands up to make air quotes with your fingers when you say that.

Oh my god the bucket hat. You remember him wearing stupid bucket hat. A mixture of confusion and awe lingers in your eyes as you stare at Chris and you find yourself grappling with the significance of this sudden memory recall. The once-disconnected pieces of your encounters with Chris start to form a more coherent picture, leaving you in a state of introspection.

“Have we met before? Maybe in another life I knew you, maybe if I try I’ll see right through you and I’ll remember who we were.”

Overwhelmed by the sudden rush of emotion, you find yourself only listening to Chris’s singing in your ears as you collect your thoughts. The weight of the forgotten memory mingles with the joy of rediscovery. It's a bittersweet realization – a fragment of your past brought back to life in the present.

You remember Chris's visits, his patient smile each day, a consistent presence for you. Every day, he came back. The thought resonates within you, and a warmth spreads through your chest. The realization is both heartwarming and heartbreaking – a testament to the resilience of a connection that transcends the limitations of memory.

You recall the moments when Chris would visit, sharing stories and laughter as if each encounter were a brand-new beginning. The frequency of his visits, the sincerity in his eyes – it all makes sense now. The times you were less than kind to him, and the one time Changbin kicked him out of the cafe all because you didn’t remember him. He didn't let the forgetfulness deter him; instead, he embraced each meeting with unwavering dedication.

Emotions surge within you like a tidal wave, and you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. Clarity, like a long-lost friend, has found its way back to you. Studio and music in your ears cuts out as you navigate the flood of memories that has rushed back to you. Chris, gaze never wavering from you as he watches the changes in your face, reaches forward and presses a button to allow his voice to reach you.

“Y/N, are you alright?”

As you stand before him, tears well up in your eyes, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself and you shake your head to dismiss his concerns.

“You know that bucket hat looked awful on you.”

Chris’s eyebrows furrow for a moment, staring at you as if you were crazy. Then his eyes slowly soften, then widen, and you watch his lips part as he smiles, the same one that had melted you the first day you’d met.

“Oh my god--” His voice cuts out as you watch him quickly stand up and enter the recording room.

"Chris," you begin, your voice quivering with the weight of the revelation. "I remember. I remember everything." His eyes widen, and a spectrum of emotions dances across his face – surprise, hope, and a touch of disbelief. He opens his mouth to speak, but you continue before he can find the words.

"I remember you coming in that day, your smile, the way you patiently shared stories, how I had you kicked out," you confess, tears streaming down your cheeks. The weight of the unsaid becomes a palpable presence in the studio, “I remember you showing me Han’s song, I remember you walking me home, I remember-- God, I remember everything.”

Chris, struck by the depth of your revelation, leans forward, his eyes searching yours for confirmation. "You... remember?"

You nod, a mixture of joy and sorrow in your eyes, "Yes, Chris. And I remember the first day we met, how you made me laugh with that paper football game. And I remember the way you smiled at me when I said the 90s was an awful time for fashion and how I fell for you in that moment."

As Chris takes in your revelation, a mixture of disbelief and joy dances in his eyes. He gazes at you, absorbing the weight of your words, and then a tender smile graces his face. With a sincerity that pierces through the air, he begins to share his side of the story.

"Y/N," he starts, his voice tinged with emotion. "Every day, I walked into that cafe, hoping that it would be the day you remembered. Even when you didn't, it was worth it. Your smile, your laughter – they became the highlights of my day."

He takes a deep breath, as if collecting the scattered fragments of his emotions. "I fell for you so hard, right from the start. Your kindness, your laugh, the way you were so warm and inviting to everyone – it was impossible not to fall in love with you."

"I love how you find joy in the little things, how you light up when you talk about your favorite songs, and the way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. It's like every moment with you is a melody, and I can't get enough of it," Chris continues, his gaze locked onto yours.

Tears glisten in your eyes as you listen to him pour his heart out, the weight of his love both comforting and overwhelming. Chris's vulnerability becomes a bridge that connects every memory you have of him, and he pulls you into his arms tightly.

"I love you for who you are, Y/N, and every version of you, even the one who couldn't remember,” He breathed into your hair, eyes screwed shut as he held you close to him.

“Don’t let me forget you again, okay?”

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The blaring alarm pierced through the veil of your dreams, a relentless assault on the peace that only moments ago had surrounded you. Groggily, you fumbled on the nightstand for the offending device, your hand clumsily slapping at the snooze button in a desperate attempt to silence the intrusion before your hand slips and it falls off your night stand, alarm still blaring.

“God damn it…” You curse under your breath as a resentful sigh leaves your lips. Reluctantly, you threw off the warmth of the covers and reached for your phone, the bright screen reading 4:30AM. Your body was protesting the untimely disturbance as the coldness in the air replaced the coziness of your bed. The room, dimly lit by the soft glow through the curtains, felt like a sanctuary you were being forcibly expelled from. The cool floor beneath your feet served as a stark reminder that the inviting embrace of your bed was now just a fading memory.

As you stood there, the harsh reality of the impending workday began to settle in. The day ahead loomed like an insurmountable mountain, and as much as you didn’t want to go make coffee for stuck up business men and housewives with too much time on their hands, you promised to open the shop this morning and you were absolutely kicking yourself for it.

Dragging yourself toward the bathroom, you squinted against the bright light, your reflection in the mirror a testament to the reluctant and incredibly rude awakening. With each passing minute, the realization that the sanctuary of sleep was slipping away. The only thing keeping you moving was knowing you got to have a free cup of coffee as soon as you got there.

The clock ticks, the seconds slipping away, and with each passing moment, the inevitable draws nearer. You stare at the ceiling, contemplating the merits of calling in sick, but reality nudges you with a firm reminder of bills and responsibilities. With a heavy sigh, you brush your teeth and hair as you attempt to blink away the grogginess in your eyes. The morning routine is a series of half-hearted motions. Your reflection in the bathroom mirror wears the exhaustion of someone who'd rather be doing anything but going to work.

The uniform feels like a straitjacket, but you squeeze into it, donning the required apron with a resignation that accompanies the mundane. As you lace up your shoes, you can almost hear the distant and antagonistic laughter of those still wrapped in the warm embrace of their dreams.

The walk to work is a slow march, the chilly air of Seoul biting at your skin. The vibrant sunrise paints the sky, a cruel juxtaposition to your muted mood. The comforting scent of freshly ground coffee wafts from the shop, a mixed blessing as it both heralds the start of another day and wraps you in the familiar embrace of your workplace as you tuck yourself behind the counter swiftly.

The clock on the wall seems to mock you, displaying a time that's far later than you intended to arrive. With an apologetic smile, you make your way to the locker and quickly toss an apron over your head, hoping to go unnoticed.

However, your hopes are dashed as you hear a playful voice from across the room. "Well, well, if it isn't our resident time traveler. Did you bring back any cool gadgets from the future, Y/N?" your boss Changbin teases, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You chuckle nervously, appreciating the light-hearted tone. "Just a tardiness superpower, I guess. I thought I'd share it with the team today," you reply, feigning innocence.

Changbin leans against your desk, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ah, the infamous tardiness superpower. I've heard it's all the rage in the superhero world. Fashionably late, right?"

You nod, playing along. "Exactly! It's the new trend. Fashionably late is the new on-time."

Changbin laughs, shaking his head. "Well, as long as you don't start wearing a cape to work, I think we can forgive a little tardiness now and then. Just don't make it a habit, superhero."

Customers trickle in, their orders becoming a monotonous hum. With each espresso shot pulled, you feel a little more awake, a little more alive. The routine becomes a rhythm, a dance with the coffee machines. And as you hand over that first latte of the day, you realize that despite the initial reluctance for starting the day, there's a certain satisfaction in being part of the daily grind. And to which, you let out a small laugh at your own pun and shake your head before glancing back up to be met with the next customer.

When you looked up, you were greeted with chocolatey brown eyes that crinkled a little as he smiled at you. It was a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts, and it was a smile that definitely melted yours. You couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Hey, Chris.”

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Author's note: I am... to happy with how this turned out. Let me know if there's any mistakes I missed, it is very late for me as I'm getting this posted and I half-proof read it! Please enjoy the last part, and tell me all about your favorite parts of the series<3 I'll be back soon with a new series as soon as I can lovelies ^.^ Again, this is for my best friend Baylee. I love you more than you love Chan. Seriously.

Love, Bunn XOX

37 notes · View notes

broken-glowsticks · 1 year ago

Text

What Once Was Mine

Chapter 3 - Shifting Dynamics

Genre: Childhood friends, Eventual Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Love corner/love triangle, love rivals, Series. Not all chapters will be proofread!!

Warnings: 18+, mdni, mentions of sex and alcohol consumption, additional warnings will be added to individual chapters as needed.

Additional tags: love triangle, hangovers, flirting

Previous ● Main ● Next

It was your overwhelming urge to pee that surged you into consciousness, however as soon as you were awake enough you became acutely aware of the overwhelming nausea washing over you. Good lord, how much did you drink last night?

“Oh god.” You said bolting upright, clamping your hand tightly over your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut, trying to block out the urge to vomit as you took deep, slow breaths. It took a moment but the sensation eased and you were able to take in your surroundings… Where were you anyway?

It was dark but you could tell this was someone's room, did you hook up with someone? No, Jisung wouldn't have let you leave the karaoke room without him, and even if you did manage to slip out to hook up with someone, the person in question would have been here with you. Not to mention you most likely would have still been naked from the night before, and were most definitely wearing clothes. You weren't wearing your clothes though, they must belong to the person who's room you're in. The shirt hung loosely on your frame, as did the shorts and you could smell cologne coming from the fabric. If you had to guess off the clothes alone, this was definitely a guys room.

If only you had your phone, you could call one of the guys and ask them if they knew where the hell you were…

The moment the thought entered your head the door opened and you found yourself relieved to see Changbin.

“Hey, you're up.” He said with a smile, reaching for the light switch.

“Please don't turn on the light.” You begged, pressing the palms of your hands to your eyes due to the light streaming in from behind him.

“Major hangover?” He asked sympathetically, closing the door and making his way to the bed. You only grunted in reply.

“I guess it's a good thing I brought you this then.” He chuckled, pulling your hands from your eyes to hand you a bowl of soup and a bottle of water you didn't realize he even had.

Opening the bottle you eagerly downes the entire thing before turning your attention to the heavenly smelling soup before you. The warm, rich broth was exactly what you needed. Changbin simply sat at the foot of the bed, happy to see you enjoying your meal.

“Soooo, where am I?” you eventually asked, peering up at Changbin.

“My room. I live the closest to the karaoke lounge and we all got a little too drunk last night. I guess Han didn't want to drive all over town just to get us all home and decided to come here.” Changbin said with a shrug of his broad shoulders.

“I can't say I blame him. I know I can get a little hard to control when I drink too much,” you admitted sheepishly, finishing off the rest of the soup. “I usually try to stay somewhat clear headed whenever I go out.” You added, watching as Changbin took the bowl from your lap. “I can't even remember the last time I drank that much.”

“I just hope that means you felt comfortable and were having a fun time.” Changbin said as he stood, making his way to the door.

“Changbin,” you called before he could touch the doorknob. “Uhm… who's clothes am I wearing?” You were hesitant to ask.

“Oh, they're mine. Han said you threw up all over yours.” He replied simply, opening the door and making his way out. “I'll give them back when they're washed.” He added right before he closed the door, leaving you flushed and embarrassed. Thanks a lot Ji.

You gave yourself a few minutes before collecting your composure and slipping out of bed. You still had to pee immensely and you wanted to see how everyone was doing. Upon exiting the bedroom you were greeted by the sight of all the guys, minus Changbin, scattering throughout the living room, all of them in various states of undress.

The only one to really attempt to cover up was Chan, everyone else was simply too hungover or too comfortable with you to care.

“Well good morning to you too.” You said to them as you scanned for the bathroom.

“Down this mini hall that's next to the kitchen, second door.” Jisungs voice called out, already knowing what you were searching for. “If you somehow miss it, you're even more hungover than I thought you'd be and you need to go back to bed.

“Shut up.” You say, frowning at him as he obnoxiously blows you kisses.

It took a bit of concentration to make your way to the bathroom, you were still dizzy and while the food and water helped your headache, you could still feel pressure in your head. Instead of risking a fall in the bathroom you did your best to be fast and were soon making your way back to the living room to settle in next to Felix on one of the two couches.

“Sleep well?” Felix asked, his voice hoarse. You vaguely recalled his scream singing the night before.

“I was less asleep and more unconscious.” You replied.

“Join the club.” Chan cut in as he lay splayed out on the ground, his eyes squeezed shut. “This is why I never drink.”

“Because you're an old man who can't handle his alcohol?” Jisung quipped from the other couch.

“I'd get you if the room wasn't spinning…” Chan grumbled, covering his face with the blanket he pulled off Felix when you walked out.

“If that was the case, would you also put your clothes back on? There's a woman present.” Jisung asked with a sassy tone, causing Chan to scoff.

“You and Felix don't even have pants on!” He cried out defensively, waving a hand between the two.

“Yeah, but we're not just in our tight-ass boxers.” Felix countered.

“Traitor” Chan said, his eyes squinted at Felix with a playful glare. Meanwhile you watched on fondly as the trio bickered.

“Oh! Hey, Ji, where's my stuff?” You asked.

“You mean the clothes you threw up on or-?”

“No, you ass hat. I mean my phone.”

“It's charging in the kitchen.” He replied and you made your way there to collect it. You were surprised to see Changbin washing dishes when you entered.

“Hey, you're not feeling sick?” Your asked him, looking for where Jisung placed your phone to charge.

“Nah, I didn't drink enough to get any kind of hangover. Plus I'm really good at handling my alcohol.” He said with a proud smile, you swear he was puffing his chest with pride.

“Okay then macho man.” You giggled as you walked past him to reach for your phone once you located it. Before you could even turn on the screen, Changbin piped up.

“Hey, Y/N, are- are you dating anyone?” His question made you fumble your phone.

“What?”

“Are you dating anyone?” He repeated, turning off the tap and removing his rubber gloves. “I looked over to the phone pile last night cause I kept seeing a screen lightning up, some guy named Hyunjin kept calling you. I figured he was your boyfriend or something and that he was worried about you.” Changbin looked away as he finished his explanation, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned against the counter. You couldn't help but notice how he seemed a bit dejected.

“Oh… oh no. I'm not dating anyone, Hyunjin is just one of my best friends. Our families have been close since we were kids is all.”

“Oh. Is that all?” He said, immediately seeming more cheerful, although he kept his eyes to the ground.

“I was really worried there for a second, if he was your boyfriend then I really wouldn't want to upset him.” Changbin tore his eyes from the floor to look at you and you almost missed the bashful tone in his voice when he said, “I know if you were my girlfriend, I'd want to always know if you were okay.”

“O-oh, uh, I…” you didn't know what to say. What did he mean by that? What do you say to that? You didn’t know, all you knew is that you could feel your cheeks flush under his bashful, vulnerable gaze. It was if he was trying to tell you something without actually saying it. Was he implying what you hoped he was?

You didn’t get a chance to answer. Your phone lit up in your hand, catching your attention, and when you looked at the screen Hyunjins name showed. You could see why Changbin thought you two were dating.

You had put him as “Hyunjinnie” in your phone and decorated his name with hearts and stars, you had also given him a customized phone screen for whenever he would call, and his profile picture was a picture you once took when the two of you had gone to the park together and he fell asleep with his head in your lap. Normally you loved seeing your phone screen light up with a special display, just for him, but something about Changbin seeing it made you painfully embarrassed. You couldn't fully understand why.

“Sorry, um, I- I gotta-” you stuttered.

“No, yeah, I'll give you some privacy.” Changbin said, making his way out of the kitchen. However he couldn't help but pick up on how Hyunjin called you “Beautiful” the moment you answered the phone.

○●☆♡☆●○

Plopping down on the couch next to Jisung, Changbin couldn't help but feel a little uneasy. Something Jisung immediately noticed.

“Hey, are you ok?” he asked quietly, pulling his view from the TV to look at his friend.

“Is Y/N dating anyone?” Changbin blurted, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling, taking Jisung by surprise.

“No, she isn't.” Jisung replied, blinking at Changbin, confused but also hopeful. “Why do you ask?”

“It's just… She told me she wasn't dating anyone, but then this Hyunjin guy called and-”

“Uhg, him.” Jisung said with disgust, rolling his eyes and leaning back into the couch. “So that's who she's talking to right now.”

“You don't like him?” Changbin asked with a lift of his head, looking at Jisung with curiosity.

“No, I think he's a fuckboy and that Y/N could do better. But don't tell her I said that, she loves the guy.”

“So they are a thing.”

“They're just friends.” Jisung said quickly, patting Changbins shoulder. “I'm not gonna lie, things are a little more complicated between them than just a ‘normal friendship’, they've been close since forever, but they're not dating and they're definitely not exclusive. That's all I can say.” Jisung said, holding his hands up.

This seemed to have brought Changbin a modicum of comfort, allowing him to lean in, not wanting Chan or Felix to hear what he was about to ask - although the two were very much subtly eavesdropping.

“Do… would you be okay if I asked her out then? Do you think she'd even say ‘yes’?” Changbin asked nervously. Out of everyone in the room, Changbin knew that Han was the closest to you. Not only did Changbin not want to cause any sort of tension by asking you out, he also figured Han was the best person to ask this question in general.

Outwardly Jisung let only his surprise show, however on the inside he was throwing a full on parade. This was everything he was hoping for coming to reality and he struggled not to jump on Changbins lap and kiss him square on the mouth just for asking about dating you. It was at this moment that Han knew he was going to do everything in his power to help Changbin land a chance at dating you.

“Dude, she'd totally say yes! She's so into you!” Jisung tried to whisper, however he was just a touch too enthusiastic and spoke loudly enough that the two eavesdroppers were able to join in on the conversation.

“Oh, is Changbin finally going to try and shoot his shot?” Felix asked with a grin, “five bucks she turns him down.” He teased, earning a pillow being thrown at his head by Changbin.

“She won't turn you down, I'm sure of it.” Chan said from the floor, giving Changbin an encouraging smile, “When do you plan to ask her?”

“I dunno. I want to make sure the moment's right. I don't want anything getting… in the way.” He mused, his attention drifting to the faint sound of your giggle coming from the kitchen.

“You mean any one.” Jisung muttered with a slight pout.

Changbin opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by Jisung, who had noticed you coming from the kitchen.

“You good?” He asked, seeing you had also grabbed your wallet.

“Yeah, well, no… kinda? I still feel yucky and I appreciate you guys giving me a safe place to sleep and all, but I really just want a hot bath and to be in my own bed.” You admitted candidly.

“I can take you and Han home. If you're feeling sick you probably still shouldn't drive.” Changbin offered immediately, subtly trying to convince you as he stood and grabbed his keys.

“Uh, I actually was going to stay and hang out,” Jisung quickly added before turning to speak directly to you, “are you okay or do you need me to come home with you?” Jisung held his breath, hoping you would say he could stay so you and Changbin could be alone together.

“Oh… no, no you can stay. I can go home with Changbin. I'll just get my car later or something.”

“Then it's settled, are you ready to go?” Changbin asked. You nodded and followed him to the door, making sure to ask Jisung not to forget your clothes before closing the door behind you.

It was painfully bright outside but after asking for permission, Changbin took your arm in his and let you hide your face against his shoulder as he led you to his car. He was even a gentleman as he opened the car door for you and closed it once you were in. It wasn't often you were treated so sweetly and idly you thought that you could get used to it.

“Here.” You were surprised by Changbin holding a pair of dark sunglasses in front of your face. You looked up at his smiling face before taking them and slipping them on to shield your eyes. He was really taking good care of you.

“Thank you.” you said softly. Other than your underwear and shoes you were dressed completely and comfortably in Changbins clothes.

“You're very welcome,” he said warmly, giving you a kind look, “now let's get you home, shall we?”

○●☆♡☆●○

“Would you like to come in for a little bit?”

“Are you sure? Didn't you want to take a bath?” Changbin asked, however he was already turning off the car and unbuckling his seat belt.

“I can take a bath later. I… just want to make sure I get up safely. I'm still feeling a little dizzy.” That was somewhat true, you did still feel a bit dizzy but if you were honest, you just wanted to spend some more time with Changbin.

“Say less.” He said, hopping from the driver's side and scurrying to the passengers side to open the door for you. You assumed that's all he was going to do, but the moment you unbuckled your own seatbelt he lifted you from your seat, bridal style.

“Is this okay?” He asked, shutting the car door with his foot.

You nodded with a giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and swooning a bit when he smiled at you sweetly. Your mind drifted as he carried you to your apartment, the strength of his arms, how solid his chest was, the sturdiness of his shoulders, you idly thought that he'd be able to bench press you if you wanted to. What else could he do with you?

“You okay? You're zoning on me.” You blinked at Changbins words, suddenly embarrassed, where were your thoughts even going?

“Oh, sorry. I guess I'm more hungover than I thought?” You knew that was a bit of a lame excuse, but Changbin seemed to buy it, deciding to focus instead on the upward climb to your apartment. Your buildings one and only elevator was broken and Changbin had visited enough to know that, but even if it wasn't broken he would have taken the stairs. He just wanted a reason to keep carrying you.

Unfortunately Changbin had to set you down eventually.

Opening the door the two of you slipped inside as you had so many times before. You had grown comfortable with Changbin in your space but something about wearing his clothes this time made things feel more intimate.

“Ok girlie, sit, I'll bring you some tea for your stomach.” Changbin suddenly commanded, gently pushing you to the kitchen island. “You're still not feeling well and I'm not going to let you lift a finger while I'm here.”

“I didn't see you treating the guys so gently.” You chuckled, slipping onto one of the bar stools.

“They're big boys, they're fine.” He replied simply, gathering a mug and kettle from your cabinets. You watched him patiently, amused by how he knew his way around your kitchen like it was his own.

“Ever think you spend too much time here?” You grinned, your chin resting in your palms.

“Nope. My two best friends live here, so it's only natural I'd spend so much time here.” He had an answer for everything today.

Soon you had your tea in hand and the two of you decided to put on a show. You knew Changbin didn't have too much time to give, everyone else was at his apartment after all, but you were happy for the company. Something about Changbin sitting next to you, your shoulders touching, watching a show you both enjoyed, it relaxed you in a way you only ever felt with Jisung and…

A knock at the door caused the two of you to jump.

“Were you expecting anybody?” Changbin asked, pausing your show.

Shaking your head you set your mug down, making your way over to the front door. Changbin attempted to crane his neck so he could see who it was that had decided to drop by from the comfort of the couch, but the layout of your apartment made that impossible. He also knew he shouldn't be nosey, it could be a neighbor for all he knew, so he turned his attention to his phone as he heard you open the door. What he heard made his pulse quicken.

“Hyunjin?!”

“Surprise, Beautiful! I've come to take care of you~!”

Changbin turned his body fully, leaning over the back of the couch just in time to watch you giggle and throw yourself into Hyunjins arms, who happened to have a bag of food, presumably for you. So this was the guy you were on the phone with earlier. He was handsome.

It took Changbin only a moment to realize what Han had meant when he said you and Hyunjin had a complicated relationship. The way the two of you looked at each other, it was like the way you looked at Han - someone you've known and trusted deeply for years. But there was something more there too, something that was never there between you and Han.

Changbins gripped his phone tightly, a sliver of jealousy cutting through him. He reminded himself that you two weren't in any kind of relationship, you said so yourself that you were single and Han reassured him that you two weren't anything exclusive. But, then, why is holding you like that? Why the pet name?

It was another affectionate term that made it impossible for Changbin to stay sitting idly on the couch.

“Baby, what on earth are you wearing???”

“Oh, those are mine.” Changbin interjected, bounding from the couch and making his way over to you and Hyunjin with an amicable smile on his face. You suddenly felt a very funny feeling growing deep in the pit of your stomach.

“You must be the famous Hyunjin I've been hearing about? Nice to meet you, I'm Seo Changbin.” Changbin said, stretching out his hand both to be polite but also so Hyunjin wouldn't have both hands still resting on your waist.

“Awww, been talking about me Beautiful?” Hyunjin teased with that cheerful smile of his before turning his attention to Changbin. “Yes, I am, it's nice to meet you Changbin-ah.”

“You don't have to be formal, any friend of Y/N is cool with me.” He said that, but Changbin can't help but notice how the moment Hyunjins hand releases Changbins, he leaned back towards you to wrap an arm around your shoulder. A subtle sign that asked: “who are you and what are you doing with my Y/N?”

“That's very kind of you Changbin, sorry I didn't bring enough food for all of us. I didn't even know you'd be here.” Another subtle dig.

“No, that's alright. I need to get back to my place anyway, everyone slept there last night and I still have some guests.”

“You're leaving already?” You asked, both oddly relieved but also not wanting him to go. Changbin couldn't help but smile fondly at you, something Hyunjin definitely noticed.

“I have to, I don't trust the guys not to break my stuff. Besides, I have to make sure your clothes are dry, maybe even see if you made any kind of mess on my sheets.” This was meant primarily as a joke, something to make you smile, but it also to act as a dig of his own. Both goals were achieved.

While you giggled at his joke Changbin noticed Hyunjins eyes darkened a bit. It was becoming somewhat known between the two boys, Changbin was making a statement. Something you might have noticed had you not had this unfamiliar mix of feelings swirling within you.

“I'll come back to give you your clothes back soon, I promise Bin.” Changbins heart swelled at the sudden nickname.

“Don't worry about it, keep them as long as you want.” He offered, pretending to wipe some dust off your shoulder, coincidentally on the shoulder Hyunjins hand was resting. “I think they look better on you anyway. It was nice to meet you Hyunjin, hope to see you again.” He added cordially.

“Yeah, same here.” Hyunjin replied, making room for Changbin to step through the door. As he did so, Hyunjin couldn't help but uneasily notice the sweet look on your face as you watched Changbin leave.

---------------------------------------

Ooooooh, i spy some hostility between the boys 👀 honestly I got such a kick out of writing this part. You can really see the tension growing between the two, each subtly staking a claim in this race for Y/N's affection

Taglist: @groovygroovyhyunjin @hhwangsmoon

73 notes · View notes

astraystayyh · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ winter falls

I'm so excited to announce this collab series with my @forlix where we'll be posting winter themed fics for each one of the boys!!!!! brainstorming these with xi was the most fun ever i hope you'll enjoy our collab (alternatively named dead dick december)

all the fics, except for Chan's, Minho’s and Han's are with a gender neutral reader.

minors & ageless blogs dni w/han’s fic as it is nsfw!

no holiday is specified by name so you can imagine whatever!

we're also opening a special taglist for the series! you can comment down here or send an ask to either me or xian to be added! (6/8 posted)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Pieces of you ❆ bang chan @astraystayyh (8.7k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ single dad!chan. neighbors!au. fluff. angst. slow burn. [posted: 12/02/24]

In which you and chan are each other's missing pieces. Alternatively, Chan and his daughter come knocking at your apartment asking for flour, and he's no longer embarrassed when you open the door.

Something has melted ❆ lee minho @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ spy x family!au, fake dating!au, fluff

Your obnoxious coworkers never get off your ass about how single you are, and your temporary husband is too happy to make them eat their words.

Burning in the winter wind ❆ changbin @astraystayyh (4.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ (fake) enemies to lovers. hurt/comfort. college!au. [posted: 26/02/24.]

Sustaining an ankle injury during a ski retreat isn't fun. Especially when Seo Changbin volunteers to stay back to tend to you- the one man you can never get a read on.

The snow falls, we fall apart ❆ hyunjin @astraystayyh (13k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ roommates to lovers. angst. hurt/comfort. slow burn. longing.

when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

(+18) Empty my mind ❆ han jisung @forlix (6.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ friends with benefits to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort. [posted: 06/01/24]

For the first time in a long time, Han Jisung has something to lose.

Everything has changed (besides myself) ❆ lee felix @forlix (5.4k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ exes to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual fluff. [posted: 09/12/2023]

You spend three years loving him, six months losing him, and four hours waiting for him to get the hell out of your house. but the human heart is more stubborn than you know.

Warm winter ❆ kim seungmin @forlix

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff

“i don’t deserve you,” he breathes, “but god, i want to.”

Please fall before I fall ❆ jeongin @astraystayyh (2.8k)

☃︎⋆꙳•❅ childhood best friends to lovers. hint of unrequited love (they're idiots) [posted: 18/01/24]

3 times you saved jeongin's ass and the 1 time he saved yours. (and ended up confessing along the way)

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

...titles are all inspired by han's incredible songwriting in Winter Falls, han write a happy song #challengefailed.

#stray kids x reader #skz x you #stray kids x you #skz x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #skz imagines #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic

926 notes · View notes

imfoive · 4 months ago

Text

⟢ my works are sfw unless stated otherwise. ⟢ interactions, feedback & likes/reblog are greatly appreciated! ⟢ all works somewhat proofread, notify me about any mistakes. ⊹ fic series masterlist ONE-SHOTS ───────────────────────

⟢ Bicycle Bandit ── YANG JEONGIN Genre: College au!, Bad Boy! Jeongin, Opposites-Attract, Fluff Warnings: mentions of drinking, cursing, illegal activities WC: 4k

⟢ Fool, Hopelessly in Love ── LEE MINHO Genre: Brother’s Bestfriend au!, Cop! Minho, Angst, Romance, unrequited love, slow-burn, slightly NSFW (mdni) Warnings: mentions of cheating, drinking, cursing, physical violence WC: 12.7k

⟢ Little Picasso ── BANG CHAN Genre: Dad! Chan, Established Relationship, Fluff, Slice-of-life Warnings: none! (mention of word “sh*t”) WC: 3.8k

⟢ Wished We Never Met ── KIM SEUNGMIN Genre: First Love-Second Chance Romance au!, Friends-to-Lovers, Angst, unrequited love, hint of Fluff Warnings: mentions of death, drinking, cursing WC: 4.8k

DRABBLES ────────────────────────

⟢ 2:14 ── BANG CHAN Genre: Established Relationship au!, Fluff Warnings: suggestive WC: 713

⟢ Love Notes ── LEE MINHO Genre: Established Relationship au!, Fluff Warnings: suggestive WC: 568

⟢ Updated: 11/03/24

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, REUPLOAD MY WORK. I ONLY POST ON TUMBLR; @IMFOIVE

155 notes · View notes

changbunnies · 1 year ago

Text

If You Call Me (18+)

♡ Pairing: Bad Boy!Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre: heavy angst, fluff, very slice of life at times, strangers to friends to lovers, mutual pining, college au, slow burn, eventual smut, kind of love at first sight?, basically my take on the ever classic misunderstood bad boy x good girl trope

♡ Word Count: 43.8k

♡ Summary: After spending much of her high school life mercilessly bullied, Y/N hoped that going to college would finally allow her to move on from her past and put the pain behind her. Her hopes are crushed when it becomes apparant that the biggest perpetrator doesn't intend on letting the past stay the past– that is, until she gets unexpectedly rescued by the one person her past bullies seem to fear messing with, and he promises to protect her whenever she calls him.

♡ Warnings: flashbacks to bullying, physical assault, implied sexual assault (nothing is explicitly written, only described vaguely), past / referenced parental death (not described), chan has more than a bit of a savior complex tbh lol, self-worth issues and self-destructive behavior, an abundance of strong language, discussions around depression / being depressed, brief descriptions of blood and injury, theft.

♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): petnames (baby, angel), implied loss of virginity (reader), as usual for my works there is so much kissing, nipple play, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), handjob, multiple orgasms, protected piv (shocking)

♡ Notes: please keep in mind that heavy topics and traumatizing events of various type are a main theme of this fic, so please read with discretion! heed the warnings and don't force yourself to read something you can't handle and won't enjoy! other than that, you can also read the story on my a03 where it is divided into chapters here updated 08/30/24: formatting fixes, slight changes to scenes and dialogue for improved cohesion

♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.

Isolation, exile, a profound sense of loneliness. Those are the feelings you are used to, the feelings that have permeated your being and seeped into the very foundations of who you are as a person. And you weren't always this way– in fact, you can pinpoint the exact moment in time where a sad, loathful existence became all you knew.

It began a little over 3 years ago, when you started your first day of high school. That first spring semester came upon you quickly, and while you were anxious to begin, there was an almost equal level of excitement. You unfortunately were arriving alone, with your friends from middle school having spread out to various different schools that suited either their families or their own ambitions for their future.

While you would have liked to go to the same prestigious schools as some of your friends, your father simply didn’t have the money to pay for that sort of thing. On top of that, admissions were fiercely competitive, and being intelligent didn’t matter if you weren’t in the top 1% lucky enough to earn yourself a scholarship. You needed to be perfect in every single way to be considered for the honor, and that’s something you simply weren’t, and would never be.

Maybe that was bleak, but you preferred to keep your hopes and expectations grounded in realism. You wouldn’t say that you lacked confidence necessarily– just that you know what is a realistic outcome and what isn’t.

And realistically, what were the chances of a miracle happening? Slim to none. So you tempered your expectations, you kept your hope on a leash, and you continued to have mundane hopes and dreams.

So it wasn’t arriving at your new, average school alone that made you the way you are now; you’d made your peace with that long before it happened. Sure, you would miss the friends you made in your younger years, but high school is supposed to be the place with the most opportunity.

As long as you gave it your best effort, you’d make new friends and new memories. You’d discover what your goals for the future are, you’d work towards them with earnesty and diligence, you’d make your father proud.

At least, that was your mindset going into it; and maybe those thoughts were a bit more optimistic than your usual, but they weren’t unrealistic by any means. All those hopes were tangible and achievable, nothing about them should have been out of reach or unobtainable.

And it wasn’t like you were losing contact with your friends forever– cellphones existed, and it would only be a matter of time before a free weekend arrived for you to meet up with them again. So all in all, you’d felt good. Sure, your circumstances weren’t the most ideal, but you were more than capable of making the best of them.

That’s what you thought at the time, anyways. Despite the perceived realism of your wishes, it quickly became clear to you that life had other intentions for you in the name of Park Jaehyung. A boy in the same class as you, who took a keen interest in you for reasons beyond your understanding.

It started with you noticing that he was often looking at you. You’d look up from your textbook or notes, eyes aimed at the board or your teacher for further instruction, and you’d notice his gaze in your peripheral vision. It didn’t bother you necessarily; you were friendless after all, and you thought maybe he was just trying to figure out if he should approach you.

You knew first hand how shyness or doubts could make a decision you really wanted to make more difficult than it needed to be, and the simple act of approaching a person for friendship could become the most nerve racking experience of your life.

You even considered approaching him first to make it easier on him. There were plenty of times you were able to be the brave friend simply because you wanted to help, moments where all anxieties were trumped by the simple desire to help a friend.

However, he ended up approaching you first in the end, on an otherwise uneventful Friday. Most of your classmates left quickly, eager to get a start on their weekends or meetup with fellow club members for practice for their upcoming events.

You were nervous as he approached but not necessarily in a negative way; at the time, you had no reason to believe he had any bad intentions with you. In fact, you were excited at the prospect of finally making a friend in your new environment after weeks of being awkward around everyone.

You were so ignorantly optimistic.

When you finished tucking your things away and lifted your head to look at Jaehyung, you met him with a smile. The conversation was pleasant at first, albeit a bit mundane. Simple small talk such as “how did you do on the test,” “how do you like the school,” and things of that nature.

You don’t remember how long you two talked like that, but what you do remember is the shift in atmosphere when his friends came into the room looking for him.

“What are you still doing in here, Jae? We’ve– Oh?” you remember one of his friends saying as he stepped into the room, pausing his sentence when he noticed the two of you stood at your desk talking.

The shift in Jaehyung’s expression was shockingly instant, the positivity of the boy in front of you quickly warping into an animosity that you could hardly comprehend. The friend, who you recognized as a boy who sat in the back of the classroom, let out a laugh as he stood in the doorway.

“I knew it! You do like her,” the boy chuckled with a smug expression. Jaehyung scowled as he turned away to face his friend's direction. “I told you, I don’t. I was just telling her to stay away from me,” he spits at his friend, “She’s obsessed with me.”

You were stunned, blood running cold as you looked at him in bewilderment. You just spent the last several minutes talking pleasantly and laughing, and now he’s lying about it right in front of you? So blatantly? Why?

Before you could even open your mouth to defend yourself, his friend laughed loudly. “I told you, you need to stop playing with the easy ones. They get way too attached, man.” He’d said as Jaehyung stepped away from you quickly, making his way to the door with haste.

You simply watched, the words playing in a loop in your brain. Jaehyung took one last glance at you before the pair of them exited the room, leaving you by yourself with your thoughts running a mile a minute. Easy? Easy how? Because you were alone all the time? Because you’re shy?

You didn’t really understand why his friend said that, or why Jae’s attitude changed so quickly. Naively, you started to think that maybe it was all a big misunderstanding, and you could clear it up on Monday when you saw him again. It was unlikely, but the shift in tone was so sudden that you really had nothing else to grasp onto to make sense of it.

But Monday came, and it was immediately clear to you that the pleasant Jaehyung you’d known for a short time was entirely fake. He’d approach you with venom, antagonize you any chance he got, his friends always cackling in the background. He’d call you names and push you around, a sick enjoyment clear on his face every time.

You’d wondered if this was his intention all along; to make you like him, to spend time with you because you were vulnerable before he’d turn it all around on you and embarrass you. His friend walking in on you in the classroom probably just sped things up a bit, and made him lose the need to build trust with you first.

Some days you’d be lucky, able to avoid them by bolting out of the room the minute the bell rang. Of course there were still times they caught up to you or got you into a corner, but for the most part, the strategy had worked.

Eventually though, that method became nearly impossible as they got used to the trick and found ways to get you in a corner consistently. You only ever managed to catch a break on days that they needed to stay behind for detention or to be disciplined by the staff.

You hoped, you prayed, harder than you ever had for anything, that one day they would grow tired of tormenting you and just leave you alone. That staff would actually help you instead of turning a blind eye, only intervening when the boys’ actions inconvenienced their ability to work. You prayed they’d get suspended, expelled even– an unrealistic hope you knew would never come true, as little of a priority to the school’s staff as you were.

But hope was all you had then. In those incredibly dark days, where your life was the hardest it had ever been, you’d started to see the appeal of having outlandish dreams. It was comforting to imagine a world where everything about your life was perfect, where you'd easily obtained your goals and led the life you had always dreamed of, free of hurt and sadness.

There was no comfort in being a realist, no solace in the tangible. And you were tired. Not the physical kind of tired that came with a hard day's work, but mentally.

You were exhausted from the constant abuse, the unending loneliness, the hopelessness that was laid out so plainly in front of you. And so you would hope; hope for a better day, an easier existence, a friend.

You hoped that you’d be a braver person than you were the day before, hoped that one day the school would finally take action, hoped that one day Jae would get bored of you and finally leave you alone. You knew painfully well how improbable it was, but it was all you had.

All of it was out of your control, no matter what you did or how hard you prayed; it didn’t matter, it wouldn’t change, but even still you couldn’t let go of that hope. It was around that time however, that you realized there was something you could control– your academic scores. If you just devoted yourself to studying, to doing well on tests and keeping up your GPA, you could get yourself into a good school and put all this behind you.

You didn’t get into as good of a school as you would have liked, the strain that Jaehyung’s bullying put on your brain made studying a herculean effort, but you managed to do well enough to get accepted into a decent college just outside the city. It was enough- as long as you stuck to campus, you’d likely never see Jae again. He’d stay in the city, doing god knows what, and you’d get the fresh start you desperately needed, away from the person that made you miserable.

It's been 6 months since you moved into the campus dorms and began attending classes. Your roommates already knew each other, having been childhood friends who promised to go to the same school, but they never made you feel left out or like an outsider in your shared dorm room. They were kind, funny, and outgoing, and it would be no exaggeration to say they adopted you, bringing you out of your shell bit by bit and helping you return to the person you used to be.

There’s still pain, sadness, and loneliness, of course. Those feelings don’t just go away, but for the first time in years you began to feel.. Happy. Like things were finally going your way.

You could breathe without needing to constantly look over your shoulder, or be perpetually afraid of when a moment of happiness would inevitably crumble. You could finally live. The universe seemed to want to have a laugh at your expense, however– because what would be more ironic and tragic than bringing you back to the person you hate most.

You’d never been to a party– not entirely by choice, but because the opportunity had never come your way, solitary and friendless as you were. And now that you were in college, where the surroundings are rife with parties and carefree nights, it just felt.. Unnatural for you to be involved.

Like you were trying to blend where you didn’t belong, and that everyone would see through you. They would recognize you for what you were all through high school; a girl desperate for friends that no one ultimately cared about.

But your roommates, the social butterflies that they were, insisted that you come with them after excitedly telling you of the invite they received. You protested at first, feeling like you'd be much too awkward and out of place in the situation to have any fun, but they were tireless in their efforts to convince you to go with them.

And really, you couldn't blame them for trying so hard– you'd told them about your desire to branch out, to make more friends and experience new things, and a party was arguably one of the best places to do that. So you conceded in the end, letting them help you plan your outfit and be your guides through what was supposed to be a fun, new experience.

And it was fun– for a time. Your friends helped you come out of your shell the most you’d ever had, introducing you to other people they knew either from their classes or from the clubs they were part of. You felt included, like you were finally part of a group, like you no longer had to be the person who watched from afar while others mingled and laughed together.

It’s almost funny how that feeling of belonging and joy you finally felt came crashing down on you in an instant. You didn’t see him at first, and if you had, you definitely wouldn’t have separated yourself from your friends. You were supposed to be gone just a moment, a quick run to the bathroom and refresh of your drink before you’d rejoin them.

But there Jae was, standing near the stairs that led up to the bathroom, chatting with the same group of friends he’d had in high school. Your mind reeled, blood chilling as your eyes settled on him for the first time since graduation. You stood frozen for a moment, body being bumped by those trying to dance or move past you as the music continued to blare.

You suddenly became conscious of every little thing– the volume of the music in your ears, the amount of people standing between you and him, how the hairs on your neck and arm began to stand on end. You could feel the way your palms clammed up as you closed your fingers into a fist, and the thumping of your heart became loud and erratic, to the point it began to drown out everything else.

You tried to rationalize with yourself, to calm your screaming nerves and bring your racing heart under your control. He hadn’t noticed you, and if you were lucky, and quick, he wouldn’t at all. Besides, you weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had friends now, a new home and a new life. He couldn’t torment you anymore– you wouldn’t let him.

You take a breath, steeling yourself to walk past the man who brought you so much misery, and hope for the best. Your legs felt like lead, each step taking excruciating effort to complete. You try to keep your head down, letting your hair fall over your face to hide your recognizable features as much as possible.

You look up as you reach the steps, realizing that you’re unconsciously holding your breath as you do. Your eyes meet– not Jae’s, but his friends. And you can tell by the way he laughs, one of disbelief as much as it is amusement, that he recognizes you easily. “What?” you hear Jae question as he turns his head to see what his friend is reacting to, his eyes landing squarely on you.

Dread is the only word that can be used to describe what you feel when his eyes meet yours. Your reaction is immediate, panic settling in as you rush past them, and dart up the stairs. You just had to make it to the bathroom, and then everything would be fine. And you do, closing the door shut quickly behind you and locking it with a loud click.

You take a moment to breathe, to think with clarity now that you were within the safe space of a closed, locked room. You’re not proud of the visceral reaction seeing Jae gave you, the way you ran as soon as soon as his gaze locked on you.

You wonder how you looked to the others settled around the steps– hopefully, just like a drunk girl in desperate need for the bathroom, instead of a dreadfully panicked one. Regardless, your dash up the steps was certainly unceremonious and embarrassing, and you hate the thought that it gave Jae or any of his friends a laugh.

You let out a sigh, pulling out your phone to text your friends, hoping they’re not too drunk or that the music is too loud for them to hear their phones. You do your business, wash your hands, check your appearance in the mirror. You check your phone, and then check it again, and then once more, but no response from your friends ever comes through.

You sigh, knowing you can’t camp out in the bathroom much longer than you have already. There are loads of people here, and someone’s going to need it sooner or later. And besides, he surely wouldn’t still target you now that you were all grown adults, right?

It’s likely he didn’t even follow after you, and is just laughing that even now you’re still afraid of him. You moved on, and surely he has to– you can’t let your fear of him control you the way it did when you were in school together.

With another breath to calm your nerves, you unlock and open the door, and see that a small line did in fact start to build in front of the bathroom door while you were holed up inside of it. You offer an apology to the people waiting as you move past to allow the first person in, making your way quickly back towards the steps in the hopes that Jae is either no longer in that area, or has no interest in you anymore, and that you can return to where your friends are without issue.

But of course, he’s there, standing at the top of the steps, very clearly waiting for you. Your heart sinks to your stomach, the smile that spreads on his face making you sick. “Long time no see, huh?” he says as he takes a step closer to you, his light, airy voice a stark contrast to the intentions you know he has. You don’t respond, which he takes as his sign to continue. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Don’t you want to catch up?”

“I need to get back to my friends,” you say, finally finding your voice after the initial shock. It’s not as strong as you’d like, but considering you’ve never stood up for yourself before now, it’s enough to show how much you’ve changed since he last saw you.

“Oh, you have friends now? That’s interesting,” he responds easily, taking what little pride for yourself you fostered and crushing it beneath his heel. Before you realize it, your back is pressed against the nearest door, Jae closing the distance between you with proficient ease.

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes darting to the side where the line for the bathroom remains unchanged. If you made a scene, would they help you? You honestly weren’t sure; they were all strangers to you, with varying levels of intoxication affecting them, and from their perspective, you and Jae could easily appear to be a couple sharing an intimate moment before trying to sneak away to a room. The thought alone makes your stomach churn.

“Oh don’t worry about them, they won’t interrupt,” Jae says, that same sickeningly smug smile on his face as he seemingly has the same thought you just had. You know what comes next- his hands on you, a contact you loathe above all else, that makes your skin scream and recoil.

Things were supposed to be different now. You weren’t supposed to ever see him again, but maybe you were a fool for believing that you created enough distance from him for that to be the case. But you didn’t come this far to be the same person you were then- you were supposed to be different, to be strong.

You want to be strong, to have the courage to stand up for yourself and tell him to go fuck himself. If you don’t act now, then what was it all for? You can’t let yourself go back to the meek person who just accepted it whenever she was hurt. You clench your fists, you gather your courage, and for the first time ever, you raise your voice to him. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

He doesn’t take you seriously in the slightest, laughing as if your words mean nothing as he reaches his hand out to touch you. In a moment of unparalleled bravery on your part, you slap it away, conveying clearly that you won’t allow him to torment you anymore. There’s surprise in his eyes for a moment, though it fades as quickly as it appeared, replaced by seething anger.

He wraps your hair in his fist, holding your head back with so much force that a searing ache spreads over your scalp. “You wanna try that again? I don't think you're thinking clearly." Jaehyung's voice is dark and threatening as he holds your head in place.

So now he’s taking you seriously, huh? You glare at him, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as your fists tremble, 3 years worth of contempt rising forth all at once, practically begging to be set free, to be unleashed on the awful man before you who made your life a living hell.

You were still scared of him, if you were being honest with yourself, but you had to be different. You had to. He was much stronger, his grip on you was painful, but if you gave up now, then what was it all for? Your perseverance had to mean something, it had to lead you to somewhere better, to help you become someone you were proud to be. You can’t let it be meaningless.

You’re about to open your mouth to scream, determined to make a scene that can’t go ignored by anyone in the vicinity, when a voice you don’t recognize calls to Jaehyung, taking you both by surprise. “What the fuck are you doing?” the unfamiliar voice call from the direction of the stairs, and you’re able to turn your head just enough to see someone standing at the top of them, arms crossed with an incredulous look on his face.

“Shit,” you hear Jaehyung mutter under his breath when he turns his gaze away from you, looking at the man who is (thankfully) interrupting the moment. “What are you doing here?” Jae asks as he slowly loosens his grip on your hair, his teeth clenching as he begrudgingly releases you from his grasp.

“Don’t tell me you came to this party not knowing you’re in my fucking house. That’s my room you’re blocking, so move,” the man says, voice stern and unflinching. Jaehyung’s expression in response is strange– he’s very clearly annoyed, angry, but there’s something else there too that you’ve never seen on him.

He’s… intimidated? “Oh c'mon, man. You don’t mind letting an old friend borrow your room, right?” Jae’s voice turns jovial, a vain attempt at familiarity and friendliness. The stranger’s expression changes, a scoff leaving his lips as he looks at Jae in disbelief.

The man looks at you next, observing your body language and quickly processing what it tells him. You’re very clearly distressed, body trembling, eyes angry and glossy with unshed tears; you want out of this, and now.

“Doesn’t seem to me that she’s into you,” the stranger says matter-of-factly, stating the truth of the matter as he sees it. “And you’re insane if you think I’m letting you use my room for this shit– or anyone’s for that matter.”

“She’s just shy, isn’t that right? You’re not used to us being interrupted?” Jae says it with a sickly sweet smile before he turns his gaze back to you, leaning closer as his next words leave him in a whisper intended for only you to hear, a not so thinly veiled threat for you to play along with him, “I’m not done with you yet.”

If it were the you of half a year ago, you probably would have buckled under the pressure, yielded to whatever it was he wanted from you. You would’ve been too afraid of the repercussions that would follow if you didn’t, afraid of what worse action he’d have in store for you if you didn’t listen to his commands.

And that’s what Jae wants– he wants to put that fear back inside you, to remind you of all that he made you feel, all that he caused you to lose, to turn you back into the person he knew and expected you to be.

You refuse to give him the satisfaction. “Get the fuck away from me,” you say, doing your best to make your voice as steady as you can possibly make it. You can feel the rage radiating off him, and you have to admit, it’s extremely gratifying to watch him struggle, to see him flounder after being challenged.

He storms off, anger and bitterness seeping off him, as the man who saved you steps aside to let him pass– though Jae still manages to shoulder checks the stranger angrily on his way out. A sigh of relief leaves you once your tormentor is out of sight, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over.

“Are you alright?” the stranger who evidentially lives here asks as he takes a tentative step closer to you, clearly not wanting to make you feel boxed in and cornered the way Jaehyung had.

“Yeah, I’m fine, thank you,” you say as you separate yourself from what you remember is apparentally his bedroom door, fixing your clothes in the places that Jae caused it to crumple.

When you look up, you see that he is looking you over for any noticeable injury– whoever he is, it’s apparent he knows who Jaehyung is and how he does things. It also makes you curious about how they know each other, and what it is about him that made Jae leave without putting up a real fight.

He has dark curly hair that pairs well with his piercing gaze, but you didn't find him particularly frightening based on appearance alone. In fact, you actually thought he'd look sweet if he wasn't frowning so hard right now.

He did seem quite athletic though, and you could see how bulky his arms were underneath the sleeves of his black tee. Maybe it was the difference in strength that deterred him? Jae is stronger than you, sure, but he wasn’t as built as the stranger who saved you.

Or maybe Jae is simply all bark, and no bite? That’d be ironic– your biggest tormentor being someone who is inherently a coward. But isn’t that how it usually goes? The weak preying on the weaker for the sake of gratification and a sense of superiority they wouldn’t otherwise obtain.

And who better to play that role for him than you? You, who was lonely and eager to make a friend, who was too timid and kind for her own good, and without the inner strength to fight back.

“You’re welcome to join me in my room, if you want. Uhm, not in like, a weird way or anything– just to make sure Jae will leave you alone if he's still around. We’ll leave the door open so you’re comfortable and– uh, yeah.” You can’t help but smile a little following his suggestion– it’s a little awkward, but well intentioned, and you appreciate the attempt he’s making to comfort you following a tense interaction.

You follow him inside, and true to his word, he makes no move to close the door behind you, leaving it wide open and looking out into the adjacent hallway. Looking around, you notice that his room is more.. Minimalistic than you would’ve expected from a college aged guy. A decently sized bed, a bookshelf that contained more empty space than anything, a desk that held only a laptop and a rather old looking stuffed wolf toy that you assumed was from his childhood.

There was no clutter, no mess, no decoration– nothing that tells you a guy in his early 20s occupies the space. Apart from the led lights circling the ceiling, the walls are bare, with no pictures or posters to give insight into his interests or personality. “You can sit wherever,” he says, intending to let you have first pick for comfort’s sake.

You decide to sit at his desk, concluding that it's the better of your two options, and he flops on his bed, eyes on the ceiling as a slight sigh leaves his lips. “Regretting throwing a party?” you ask, noticing how exhausted he seems to be– dark circles under his eyes serving as a clear sign that something in his life is causing him fatigue and lack of sleep.

“It’s not my party, it’s my brothers. The whole party thing isn’t really for me, but he wants the “whole college experience” or whatever, so, you know.. Yeah,” he closes his eyes for a moment as he speaks, seeming to think about what he wants to say before he continues to speak. “He won't have time for things like this once the fall semester starts, so why not let him have his fun until then? That’s what I think, anyways.”

You nod, silently wondering if his brother is anyone you met downstairs, though you don’t recall meeting anyone that looks similar to him. “Do you both go to school here?” you ask, thinking it’d be nice if they do– you could do with some more friends in your life, especially ones that go to the same campus you do.

“Oh, no, I–” he hesitates a moment, an almost indiscernible look on his face as he slightly tenses, just enough for you to gather that this topic is a bit tense for him. “I dropped out. Of high school, I mean. The whole school thing doesn’t suit me– got enough bills to pay and things to take care of without that added expense and worry, you know?”

You get it– you honestly do. Dropping out is a hard decision to make, one that society doesn’t understand comes with great personal grief and difficulty. Most people who drop out don’t do it because they want to, but because they have to, or feel there’s no other choice in the face of whatever it is they’re dealing with.

There was even a time you considered it; when your bullying was at its worst, and before you found solace in pouring all your energy into studying. “I completely understand; I almost dropped out too. And I wouldn’t even be going to school now if it wasn’t for my scholarship.”

“Really?” he sits up now, surprise written on his face as he looks at you. “Yeah, I– ..didn’t have the best high school experience,” you sigh, hesitating to meet his gaze right away. He’s a stranger to you, you don’t know what happened to him, and he doesn’t know what happened to you, but there’s a strange sort.. Connection you feel?

Like kindred spirits– two souls who lived different lives, who are on a different path, but somehow are still the same. You look at him again, realizing you don’t feel the need to hesitate or hold back your words. There’s something about him that seems trustworthy, and the sincere empathy in his eyes makes you believe that he’s someone you can confide in without regrets.

“I was depressed, alone. I had no friends, and I don’t mean it felt that way, I literally didn’t have anyone. And Jaehyung, he– well, you saw. It was like that every single day, unrelenting. Studying was the only thing I had to escape my thoughts and feelings, so I poured everything I had into my grades. I started to view college as an escape– like if I got accepted, all my problems would be solved. I could start over, be a different person,” you swallow, emotions threatening to choke you up as you talk about your experience, but you continue on despite it.

“Unfortunately, schools are competitive, and recruiters could easily see that despite having good enough grades, I didn’t have the confidence or social standing to back myself up, so they chose other people. But the school here accepted me, and even though it’s still close to where I grew up I hoped it would be enough. I could meet new people, get away from everything that brought me down, and become the person I always wanted to be. And I have– you know, for the most part anyways.”

There’s a silence that lingers for a moment, one that makes you start to feel stupid for deciding to unload all that information on someone you just met, but when you meet his eyes again you no longer feel shame. As before, there is a sincere empathy, an understanding, a care, that you’d never experienced before now.

You never talked about Jae to anyone new you met, and even your friends only know about him in the vaguest of terms because it was so hard to relive and talk about openly. But the person you met today– he saw it, in its rawest, unfiltered form, and he cared. Genuinely cared. And when you think back to all the times someone saw what was happening and ignored it, knew you were suffering and didn’t think twice about it, that care matters.

He looks contemplative as well; like he’s thinking carefully on his words, and what impact they’ll have, as if formatting the perfect response to your admission is of crucial importance to him. And in a way, it is, because even though he’s just met you, he sees you for who you are– someone like him. Damaged. Lonely. Yearning for a connection that doesn’t yet exist, but could if you found the right person.

He opens his mouth to speak, the words he wants to say on the tip of his tongue, but is quickly interrupted and drowned out by your phone suddenly ringing. You pull it out of your pocket quickly, and see your friend's name and photo brightly illuminated on the screen.

“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I just saw your text! Are you still upstairs? I’ll come get you–” your friend comes through loud and urgent, doing her best to be heard over the loud music that surrounds her downstairs.

“I’m fine, I promise! Where are you right now? I’ll meet you,” you assure her as you stand up from your seat, preparing yourself to leave the room. The conversation ends quickly, with you confirming with each other that you’ll meet at the base of the stairs and then head home together.

“I’ll get going now, my friends are waiting for me, but.. before I go I just wanna say thank you for tonight, uhm..” your sentence trails off as a realization hits you. Right. You still don’t know his name yet. Thankfully, he seems to know where you’re going, and offers his name to you before you have to ask. “Chan,” he says simply, “I’m Bang Chan.”

You smile as you repeat his name, offering your own afterwards to which he acknowledges with a nod. You make it to the door before you stop, turning back to look at him one last time before you go. “I’ll see you around..?” you ask, hoping you don't come across as too desperate to meet him again.

“Mm, yeah, sure,” Chan replies nonchalantly, though the corners of his mouth raise in the hint of a smile. And though it’s only a slight display, it makes you smile back at him. Because even though he comes across as aloof and reserved, you've gotten the impression that he's a nice person underneath his layers.

You found yourself thinking a lot about him when you were in bed that night; wondering about who he is beyond what you initially see, about what makes him who he is and drives what he does. Someone who is clearly empathetic beneath their rough exterior, who has compassion even for those he doesn't know, someone you want to befriend. You hoped you'd meet and talk to him again soon.

You sigh as you approach Sunshine Cafe, your go-to stop for coffee and a sweet breakfast before beginning your day in earnest. The fall semester has spared you no mercy since it began weeks ago, with your new professors hitting you with an increasingly grueling workload and frustratingly tight deadlines.

You’ve barely had time for anything, and your daily coffee is truly the only thing getting you through the immense amount of homework and academic papers that’ve been dropped into your lap. It also occurred to you that you greatly overestimated your ability to run into Chan again.

You thought it’d only be a matter of time, at first. Though he doesn’t attend the local college like you and his brother do, he still has a house near campus, and even if meeting at another party was unlikely, there were still plenty of places you could end up seeing one another. And yet, either due to the amount of work that needed done keeping you home, or Chan himself also having a busy schedule, that time never came.

Should you have just asked for his number before you left? It’s something you’d think about since that night, wondering if that would’ve been too forward or made him uncomfortable, because who knows if he wanted to be your friend as much as you wanted to be his. There was a lot you liked about Chan following your first interaction with him, but was there anything he liked about you?

It was hard to say; you certainly hoped so, but you weren’t exactly confident in your ability to make connections with people. Apart from that, a search of his name online didn’t lead to any social media platforms you could add or follow him on.

A bit strange for someone his age to be completely void of a social media presence you might think, but he didn’t really seem the type to spend his days scrolling instagram or writing personal posts on twitter in the first place.

And honestly, wasn’t it silly to be so stuck on someone you’d met and talked to so briefly? You were broaching pathetic territory if you were being honest with yourself, but you truly couldn’t help it. There was something different about him, and not in that corny love at first sight way your friends might assume if you brought the issue up to them. You could see it in the way he interacted with you and listened to you.

The more you thought about it though, the more embarrassed you felt about it; why did you unload your deepest feelings on a stranger? Because having a little bit of alchol in your system made you uninhibited enough to feel the need to bare your entire heart? Because he was nice to you?

That’s so pitiful, you’d laugh at yourself if it wasn’t so depressing. Even if you did run into him again, it’d probably be best to avoid his gaze, and save yourself from the realization that he actually thought you were a fucking weirdo, and only listened to you to be polite.

God, you were spiraling– one minute thinking it’d be best if he never saw you again, and the next praying he’d show up in your life regardless, even if just for a moment. But really, you just wanted to know– know for sure if you just imagined the way he cared to make yourself better, or if what you felt then was real. And if it was real, why?

No one ever protected you before, and it was hard for you to imagine a world where someone would do that for you purely out of the kindness of their heart. You know selfless, compassionate people exist, but not for you.

Even with the friends you had now, you’d hesitate to believe that they’d do anything for you beyond the surface level of friendship. And that was no fault of their own, of course; you knew it was a response to your own trauma that led you to think that way. But now that you were met with the evidence that someone could be kind to you purely for the sake of it, you struggled to grapple with it.

You could argue that your friends are nice to you purely because you’re also assigned roommates, and you needed to have a good relationship for your home life to be copasetic. They introduced you to the people in their life because living in their space meant you’d be around them as well, and by extension they were only nice to you because they needed to be. But Chan– what reason did he have to do anything for you? To listen to you or offer kindness?

He wasn’t the first person to show you kindness after you came here, but he was the first to do so with seemingly no explanation behind it. To be kind and help you just because it was what was right, and for no reason other than that– that’s what made him different, and made you want to see him again, to get to know him.

Another sigh leaves your lips now as you stand in line, waiting to order. You really need to stop dwelling on it and focus on more critical things at hand, i.e your paper that's due tonight and still needs to be proofread.

Yes, it’s best to do what you’re used to doing, and pour all your frustrations and worries into getting yourself the best grades you possibly can. You’ll head back to your dorm as soon as your coffee is in hand, and spend the rest of your morning (and a good portion of your afternoon) into ensuring that your paper is as perfect as it can be.

Felix, the blonde, freckled barista who has come to memorize your order, smiles sweetly as soon as he sees you. “Here’s your usual,” he says as he hands it over to you the moment you reach the counter; benefits to being a regular, and a creature of habit, you suppose– he always has your order ready for you by the time you make it to the front of the line. “Thanks, I really need it today,” you reply as you put your card in the reader to pay.

“Professor still kicking your ass?” he asks as he confirms the payment on his screen, letting you take your card out swiftly and fit it back into your wallet. “Pretty much,” you answer, though it’s not entirely true anymore; the amount of work you need to complete is definitely a major stressor, but it’s your brain’s fixation on Chan, and your subsequent worry about how you were perceived by him that plague yours thoughts and makes finishing your work much harder than it needs to be. Felix doesn’t need to hear about any of that, though.

You thank him for serving you before you step away to allow the line to continue to flow, and he wishes you luck with the rest of your day before he greets his next customer. You scarf down your doughnut before you step outside to leave the building, the crisp fall air instantly helping to bring your mind back to a place of normalcy. A few small sips of your drink, a tossing of your trash in the public bin, and you’re ready to make your way back to your room to tackle the behemoth of a paper you wrote that needs reviewing.

You make it only a few steps before you’re stopped by a voice you dread hearing saying your name from behind you, one that the universe seems to love to remind you that you can’t run away from. “I’ve been looking for you,” he smiles as he steps in front of you, cutting off your path and making you stop walking.

The blood in your veins feels ice cold, the alarms in your brain deafeningly loud. Fuck. How did Jae find you here?

Stumbling upon each other at a random party, as unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, was at least feasible. College parties weren’t limited to the host’s affiliation; word of mouth took campus parties to new heights, their friends invite their friends who then invite theirs, turning what one might intend to be a simple get together between close friends and roommates into something much larger than the host ever intended.

Yes, as much as you hated it when you ran into him, the party setting you were brought into made the most logistical sense. But here? At a small off-campus coffee shop at 9am? What the fuck was he doing here?

Surely if this was a place he frequented you wouldn’t have gone so many months without coming across one another. Which leaves you to think only one thing, that you desperately hope isn’t true- he sought you out on purpose.

“I don’t want to see you,” you say, voice as stern as you can possibly make it despite the way your nerves threaten to eat you alive. You’re doing your best not to panic, reasoning with yourself that things on your side in the situation; you’re in a public space, on a fairly active street with plenty of witnesses, and lots of options for safety. As long as you don’t freeze up or mentally shut down, you’ll be okay.

You take a step in an attempt to walk past him, but of course, he doesn’t want to allow you to leave so easily. “C’mon, don’t be like that,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to portray himself as innocently pleading for your time, but his smirk deceives his intentions. You opt to ignore him, shifting to the side to once again make your way past him.

He reaches out to grab your arm, instantly stopping you in your tracks. “Let go of me!” you protest, trying to pull yourself out of his grasp, but to no avail. Your eyes scan the area, seeking a way to get yourself out of this situation as quickly as possible. As if sensing this, Jae pulls you towards the nearby shop alley, dragging you into it with him.

Your coffee falls to the ground in the struggle, splashing your legs and drenching the soles of your shoes. Your eyes water, race burning red as a wave of emotions washes over you– shame, anger, misery, all of which make him laugh.

“It’s a shame we were interrupted last time, isn’t it? And you don’t have your guard dog here to protect you, how sad,” he taunts, infinitely condescending in the way he speaks to you, “Go ahead and cry, he’s not gonna save you this time.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying your hardest to suppress the rising panic. You need to will yourself to move, to be loud, to make it impossible for him to take advantage of you any further. You take a breath and open your eyes, surprised to see someone standing directly behind Jae– Chan.

He’s yanked away from you in a sudden motion as a hand grabs his shoulder, stumbling backwards and landing awkwardly on his right foot, clutching you tighter in his hand to try and steady himself. “Wha– who the fuck?”

“Fuck off. Don’t make me teach you a lesson again,” Chan’s voice is low as he grabs Jae by the wrist and twists it, causing him to grit his teeth and finally release you from his grasp. Jae scowls as Chan’s grip on his wrist loosens, curses and insults quickly being muttered under his breath as he shoots you both furious looks.

“You heard me. Go,” Chan says, eyebrow raised with a look that says ‘test me and you’ll regret it.’ Begrudgingly, he retreats while calling you both less than kind names and rubbing his wrist. Chan hears them of course, but making sure you’re okay is more of a priority than fixing Jae’s loose mouth.

“You alright..?” he asks, looking you over for injury as he did the first time he stopped Jae from harming you. You stayed silent however, your brain struggling to process the fact that Chan is here and helped you again– and he eventually frowns. Jae may be a fucking imbecile, but he was smart when he wanted to be; he didn’t hurt you enough to leave any marks– at least not anywhere Chan could see clearly.

On top of that, you still hadn’t responded yet, and he wasn’t entirely sure when your altercation even began; it was pure coincidence that he turned the corner to reach Sunshine Cafe and saw you being pulled away to the adjacent alley.

But he heard what he said as he approached; “guard dog,” Jae called him. Yeah, that’s exactly what he’ll be if Jae refuses to leave you alone– your personal guard dog, ready to attack as needed.

He cautiously taps your shoulder, his eyebrows knitting together in a clear sign of concern, “Hey… you okay..?” You nod, swallowing the lump that formed in your throat. You were in shock more than anything, you think. Jae tormented you for years, and you’d grown used to it over the years. Hair pulling, tripping, slapping, dumping water on you.. Things that though you hated, you were used to and came to expect.

But now? Now that you’d left that behind, began to live your life with a sense of fulfillment and joy, were away from all that once dragged you to the depths of despair.. You realized how much those things still hurt, how the time and distance didn’t cure or absolve you of your pain.

And you hated that he found you, hated that his presence still had an effect on you, hated how easy it was for him to reverse all of the positive progress you made. Most of all, you just hated Jae– truly, deeply hated him.

You could tell you were shaking, felt the tears in the corners of your eyes threatening to fall, embarrassed by the fact that Chan once again has to see you at your lowest when you’ve just barely formed a friendship. It’s humiliating in a way that’s hard to explain to anyone who hasn’t felt it themselves– the shame that comes with feeling inadequate, in looking weak in the face of someone you don’t want to see you that way.

Chan looks down, seeing what he assumes is the remnants of your fresh coffee spilled on the concrete, whipped cream and caramel splattered in all directions from the impact they made with the ground. He kneels down, grabbing the plastic cup and turning it to the front, confirming what he already suspected; your name, written in big, black letters with a sharpie, followed by a sticker with the specifics of your order.

He looks back at you as he stands back up, still holding your cup in his hands despite how sticky it’s become from splashed coffee. “Hey, look.. I’m sorry– Jae was pissed that I helped you last time, right? It's my fault, so why don’t I buy you a new coffee?”

“Huh?" you blink, surprised by his offer; once again, he's helping you when he has no reason to, and trying to process it makes your brain lag. "Oh– you don’t have to do that! It’s not your fault at all, he’s always treated me that way. He probably would’ve done this again even if you hadn’t helped the first time,” you respond after a moment, not yet meeting his gaze.

Chan frowns at your answer; he knows Jae well enough to know that’s true, but it doesn’t piss him off any less. He’s always been like that– a coward in wolf’s clothing, always preying on whoever wants and thinking he can get away with it. “Unlock your phone and hand it to me,” he says, holding his hand out to you expectantly.

You furrow your brows in confusion, but do as he asks regardless, fishing through your pocket and quickly putting in your password before passing it to him. Chan locates your contacts page easily, adding his number to the relatively short list. “Call me next time,” he says as he hands it back to you.

You stare at your phone for a few moments, processing the information slowly before you look up at him. “You.. I can call you?” “Of course.” His response is nonchalant in tone, but you can tell he’s being genuine, just as before.

You don’t understand why he’s consistently so kind to you, someone who is effectively a stranger, who he has no reason to look out or care for. Stopping a bad situation he came across once made enough sense, especially since it was happening in his own house, but to devote himself to regularly helping you was completely different. Was he really that selfless?

“What if you don’t answer..?” you finally ask, still struggling to make sense of his kindness towards you. “I’ll answer,” he replies easily, as if that’s the only option there is. “What if Jae takes my phone? Or I can’t reach it?” you continue, because surely he can’t be serious.

Why would he do that for you? Chan’s expression shifts to one you can’t read, full of thoughts and emotions you couldn’t possibly read before he speaks again, “Yell if you have to. If you call, I’ll hear it. I’ll come running as soon as I can.”

You tear up for the second time today, though this time for a reason completely different from before; you’re grateful to have someone who wants to be there for you unconditionally. After suffering for so long, you began to believe that you were beyond selfless kindness, that it was something you would never experience or have offered to you. And in your current state, it seems that even the smallest ounce of it is enough to make you emotional.

“H-Hey, don’t cry!” Chan’s voice is suddenly filled with worry, a stark contrast to the aloof tone he seems to typically have. And really, he isn’t sure what to do– he’s never had to comfort a girl who was crying before.

You wipe your face, trying your best to calm down quickly and offer him an appreciative smile. “Sorry, this is actually super embarrassing..” you awkwardly laugh as you rub your eyes dry, hoping that he won’t change his mind and decide you’re not worth it.

“No, it’s okay.. You’ve been through a lot on your own,” his tone softens, clearly trying to relay sympathy for you. You nod, steadying yourself with a deep breath before you finally look at him directly, without embarrassment or shame for your feelings. “Thank you, Chan.”

“Of course,” he says, giving you a small pat on the head in the same way he used to do to comfort his brothers when they were upset. “Let’s get you a new coffee, yeah?”

You nod again, deciding to take him up on his offer and let him buy you a new coffee. “Just stick close to me, okay?” Chan reaches his free hand out to you, offering for you to take it if you’d like to. And you do, deciding to ignore the way your heart picks back up in speed when your hand is in his.

You know there’s no romantic intent, but that doesn’t stop the butterflies from erupting in your stomach at the contact. You can tell he’s just a sweet person, that there’s nothing special about this interaction, that he’d likely do this for anyone in a similar situation to you, but regardless of your rational thoughts, you can’t calm your heart, or prevent it from skipping a beat when he gives it a reassuring squeeze before leading you out of the alley.

It doesn’t take more than a few moments to reach the cafe again, the line having drastically shortened since you were here minutes prior. Rather than wait in the line however, Chan walks directly to the counter, with you nervously in tow. The waiting customers shoot you both angry looks, but they ultimately choose not to say anything about your transgression.

“I’m sorry, I need to take care of this real quick,” Felix says to the angry girl waiting at the front that Chan just caused you to cut off, giving her an apologetic look before turning to the both of you. “Channie-hyung! And Y/N..?” He looks puzzled to see the two of you together, and really you can’t blame him. You were just here, and now here you are again, with a guy you’ve never brought up, and–

Wait. Channie-hyung? They know each other?

“Felix, can you make her another one of these? I’ll pay for it,” Chan says, holding your ruined coffee cup to the poor barista to look at. “Don’t worry hyung, I know her order. And you don’t have to pay! I’ll take care of it,” Felix says as he takes the cup from Chan’s hands, tossing it in a bin underneath the counter before he turns to make you a new drink. Chan grumbles something under his breath about how Felix should let him pay, a subtle frown growing on his face.

“Chan,” you speak up, and he turns his head in your direction, a small “hmm?” leaving his lips. “Your other hand– it’s sticky from the coffee, isn’t it? Do you want to go rinse it off?”

“Oh– yeah, uh, I guess it is,” he says, clenching and unclenching his fist as if he only just realized when you brought it up. “I’ll be right back,” he says, letting go of your hand to make his way to the public bathroom on the other end of the cafe.

You breathe a sigh of slight relief, because as much as you enjoyed holding his hand, it made your heart feel like it was going to burst out of your chest. “Here you go,” Felix says as he holds your newly made drink out to you, though instead of his usual smile, he’s looking at you full of curiosity.

“How do you know my brother?” he asks, and wow, does that take you by surprise. The cute, freckled boy who takes your order everyday and serves you with a sweet smile is Chan’s brother? You honestly can’t believe it.

“I, uhm, met him at a party. Wasn’t it your party?” you ask, remembering how Chan told you it was his brother’s and not his. Though as you recall, you didn’t see Felix there, and you definitely would’ve remembered if he was. “Oh, no! It wasn’t mine, it was Changbin’s!”

Oh, so Chan has more than one brother then? You’re about to ask to confirm, but the lady you cut off clears her throat impatiently, clearly fed up with waiting.

“Sorry ma’am, I’ll be right there!” Felix tells her politely before shifting his focus back to you, “Well, gotta get back to work, but I hope you’ll come by the house when I’m there next time! So we can talk more and be friends outside of the cafe!”

He then waves goodbye to you with a bright smile, turning his attention back to the customers in line while you’re left more than a little stunned. You always thought Felix seemed extremely sweet and fun to be around, so you’re definitely not opposed to seeing him outside of getting your morning coffee, but you didn’t expect a friendship to happen like this.

Chan returns shortly after, and though he isn’t smiling, he does seem glad that you have a fresh coffee in your hands. “You gonna be okay? Don’t need me to walk you to class or anything?” Chan asks and you shake your head, though the fact that he even asked practically makes your heart erupt.

“N-No, I was just gonna head home, I have a paper I need to work on and turn in tonight,” you explain, and he nods in acknowledgment, thinking a moment before he speaks. “I’ll see you around then. And uh.. you know. Let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“I will,” you smile, one that he returns ever so slightly. You thank him before you say your goodbye, waving as you make your way out of the door and back out onto the street. You take a sip of your coffee as you take your first steps back to your dorm, finding that it tastes much sweeter than the first one you had– and you like that.

Everything in your life has been that way; sweeter, more enjoyable, with Jae absent from it. And you hope that with your new friends by your side to help and support you, it will stay that way.

Chan is late getting home that night, the shit he had to do for work tonight being beyond exhausting and dirty. The first thing he does is shower, eager to get all the grime off his body so he can eat dinner and hopefully relax, if his brain and body will let him. He eats a microwave meal in relative silence when he’s clean, thinking about all that happened before he set off to work.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he met you again, but he didn’t expect it to be in negative circumstances again. He had a job in the area that day, and figured he’d stop by Sunshine Cafe to see and get a coffee from Felix before getting things done, only to stumble on the sight of Jae dragging you off against your will.

Without even thinking about it, he ran– he didn’t know how far Jae was going to take you, what he planned to do with you, and so he wasted no time to catch up to where he saw you go. Jae has a knack for pissing him off, but this went beyond a feeling as simple as that.

What Chan felt instead was disgust. He thought that Jae was easily the most reprehensible person he’d ever met, and that if he has nothing better to do than harass women, then he deserves to get his teeth knocked out of his skull– and Chan would happily be the one to do that.

And that’s what he planned to do when he pulled Jae back, but when he saw the look on your face, your eyes full to the brim of unshed tears and fear, he stopped. He didn’t want you to see his violent side, he realized.

The side of him that will punch and maim and hurt, that left people bloodied and bruised. When he told you that he was a drop out, and you didn’t judge him, instead offering your understanding and shared your experience with him, he knew you were someone compassionate and good.

Why did people like you always get hurt? He’d seen it countless times, and it always made him sick with anger. And everyone in his life knew that about him, saw first hand the things he was willing to do to protect someone, but for some reason he didn’t want you to see it.

Was it because he didn’t want to taint your impression of him? Because there was a part of him that was afraid that if you knew the kind of things he’s done, that you’d retract any desire to form a friendship with him? He wasn’t sure, but what he did know is that for whatever reason, he wanted you to see him as someone better.

It’s just past 11:30 when he flops down the couch with a sigh next to Hyunjin, who has some drama Chan doesn’t recognize playing on the tv. It was nights like tonight he wished he could turn his brain off, and not worry about what people think of him, nor be plagued by the memories of horrible things he’s done just to survive.

Checking his phone in hopes to find something else to focus on, he sees he received a few texts whilst he was busy– most from clients, a few updates from Changbin, who was complaining about the group project he was assigned from his professor and how he’s staying out tonight to complete it, and a few more from an unsaved number that he can safely assume is yours.

Hi Chan, it’s Y/N!

Thank you so much for everything. I really appreciate it <3

If you’re still sure, I hope it’s okay to rely on you while I keep gathering my courage

9:12 PM ✓

it’s fine rly i’m not gonna let some dickhead like jae do whatever he wants

you can rely on me as long as you want i don’t mind

call me anytime you need

11:34 PM ✓

“What are you smiling about?” Hyunjin asks as he peers over Chan’s shoulder to take a peek. Chan jumps slightly in surprise, locking his phone screen before sliding it into his pocket. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“Uh-huh, sure you weren’t. I believe you,” Hyunjin laughs in response. Chan sits there in an awkward silence for a few moments, before he glances over to see Hyunjin looking at him with a grin. “What?” Chan questions and Hyunjin lets out another small laugh.

“Y/N, huh? Is that the girl from Changbin’s party?” Chan wants to be angry that Hyunjin saw the name on his phone and is asking about it, but honestly, he’d be curious too if it were the other way around, so he can’t fault him for asking.

“Yeah. I saw her again today and gave her my number. Jae was harassing her again, and it pisses me off when he gets away with shit, so. You know.” He’s leaving out the part about his complex, unfamiliar feelings towards you, but Hyunjin doesn’t need to know them, he thinks. Better to leave those unsaid until he figures them out for himself.

Hyunjin meanwhile clicks his tongue in disapproval, displeased to hear that Jae’s up to his usual bullshit. “What’s wrong with that dude? He and his prick friends need to get a job or something and leave everyone else alone.”

“Well if at this point he still doesn’t get the hint, he’s an even bigger dumbass than I already think he is,” Chan says and Hyunjin laughs, agreeing with the sentiment instantly. Chan feels his phone vibrate against his leg as Hyunjin shifts his attention back to his show, and is surprised to see its response from you this close to midnight.

Don’t say that, I might rely on you for a long time then!

11:47pm ✓

i said i don’t mind

i’m here for you okay?

11:48pm ✓

The two of you continue to text, and unbeknownst to himself, Chan has a small smile on his face again, that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin. However, rather than tease his older brother again, he decides to let it be. As fun as it is to poke some fun, he did genuinely like seeing Chan smile. It felt so rare these days to see happiness on his face, and he was grateful to see it now, even if it was only by a small margin.

Chan glances up from his phone to see if Hyunjin is still peeking at him, and is relieved to find that he isn’t. It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be seen texting you, but.. Before he dropped out, he had a reputation in high school for being a bad guy, with all kinds of rumors being spread about him during his freshman year.

And while a lot of them weren’t true, he didn’t mind leaning into them and letting people believe whatever they wanted to if it meant he was left alone. He had no interest in the things his classmates were interested in; grades, exams, college applications, after school clubs… None of those things mattered.

He was forced to grow up quickly after his parents passed away, and it left him jaded to the worries someone his age would typically have had. And while he encouraged his friends-turned-brothers to do well and go after anything they wanted to, he couldn’t find it within himself to care about such fleeting things after all he’d been through.

At the time, all he wanted was to coast until graduation, and then start working full time to support himself and help his found family reach their goals. As long as the people he cared about had a chance to lead a better life than him, that was enough.

Chan figured then, and especially when he dropped out and started working full time, that he wouldn’t have time for new friendships until much later in life, and he made his peace with that a long time ago. However, he couldn’t deny the possibility that perhaps he pushed down the idea that he did want someone to spend time with that wasn’t from his own bubble.

Someone he could talk to about mundane things, who lived a normal life with normal hardships, someone who knew nothing about the shady shit he had to do to survive, and who could distract him from the weight of his responsibilities. And maybe it was okay to let you be that friend for him.

He was sure the others would tease him and say he has a crush, but honestly, his intentions are nothing like that. Despite what rumors would lead you to believe, he’s always been the kind of person to lift up those who needed help, and give them a place next to him. Anyone who had been dealt bad cards in life, he would help if he had the means to, because he knew how awful it felt to be alone with no one to turn to.

Regardless of gender, you both needed someone. And if you could be that someone for Chan, he would be that someone for you, because that’s just the kind of guy he is. As long as you needed him, he’d be there for you, he’d protect you, he’d be your friend. And he hoped you’d be his friend too, and that you’d never stop needing him.

Hiraeth; a deep sense of longing, a deep-rooted desire to return to home that no longer exists, or never existed to begin with. A homesickness tinged with grief and sorrow over what is lost and cannot be regained. A word that encompasses Chan in his entirety, though he’d be loath to admit it to any who asked, emotionally solitary as he is.

When others feel nostalgia, there is an associated happiness– that even though they miss or long for that period of time in their life, they accept that they cannot return to it. They look back on it fondly, happy to have those memories and able to appreciate what they had.

They miss the joy they felt in those simpler times, the days where they were taken care of and pampered by their parents, where every meal was provided for them and they spent all of their free time worry free, watching their favorite cartoons on tv or playing video games for hours on end.

But what do you do when your only memories of childhood are encompassed by an overarching sadness? When what should be happy memories are tainted by the knowledge that you lost your joy too young, that fate held no mercy, not even for a child so young- what do you do?

Chan wished he knew, because the reality is that even nearly 15 years since the day he lost his parents he still doesn’t know how to cope with his grief. And those are the thoughts that kept him up at night, his insomnia complexly woven with heartache and melancholy, unable to be separated no matter how hard he tried.

He doesn’t dare check the clock, knowing that whatever number he sees reflecting back at him will just add to the misery he feels. He shifts onto his back with a sigh, eyes now pointed directly to the bare ceiling.

How different would his life be now if his mom and dad were still here? It was no use thinking about it, it didn’t accomplish anything other than making the ache in his chest grow tighter, but he couldn’t prevent it from happening anymore than he could turn back time and change it. There was no way to make the impossible possible, and there was equally no way to prevent his brain from fixating on the what if's and should be's of his life.

There was a part of him that felt selfish for not being happier– like he was asking for too much, expecting some sort of retribution for all the suffering he’d endured, though such a thing would assuredly never come. It wasn’t like he was always miserable, either– he had so many people in his life he cared about and made him feel sane when life was running him to the ground, he had enough money to afford the things he needed and keep everyone afloat, he was strong and (mostly) healthy.

He should be grateful for all those things, and he certainly is, but just.. It’s hard. You never stop missing the people you lose, he supposes. Even when you’re grateful, even when you’re happy and smiling, even when everything is seemingly perfect, the pain is still there.

Lingering in every interaction, present in every moment, sometimes ignorable but never forgotten, always reminding him that the hole in his heart exists, and will only ever grow larger, impossible to fill. That’s what Chan feels.

Fuck it.

He reaches for his phone on the coffee table, bright light immediately straining his eyes as he unlocks the device. 2:14 a.m– not the worst it could be, thankfully; it means he’s only been stuck in his head for a little over an hour. Should he text you and see if you’ve fallen asleep yet, he wonders?

No– better not to disturb you, and risk himself saying too much about what he feels due to lapse in judgment. The thought of telling anyone about how sad and lonely he is inside makes him physically ill– he dreads the feeling of vulnerability, hates the way his emotions catch in his throat and eyes fill with tears whenever he tries.

He’s always regretted sharing in the past, not because of the fault of anyone he told, but purely due to his own inability to not feel shame and embarrassment when he lets someone in. His friends, brothers, found family, whatever you wanted to call them– very few of them saw Chan at his worst, but in an ideal world, none of them would’ve seen it.

He can still remember the look on Minho’s face the first time he broke down in front of him, and it plagues him. He couldn’t control it– the tears just wouldn’t stop coming no matter how hard he tried to keep them in, choked, broken sobs leaving him uncontrollably as his body shook and trembled.

Minho comforted him, of course– he wasn’t going to leave Chan to suffer alone after seeing him in such a state. But when the moment passed, there was no comfort or consolation within him to be felt– just the shame and embarrassment that twisted itself into a gnawing self-consciousness.

And the thought of being in that state of self-doubt and hatred in front of you was even worse, because you were the absolute last person he wanted to see him that way. Maybe one day, but not now– not when your friendship was still relatively fresh and being built upon.

But.. even if he’s not ready to share his deepest thoughts and feelings, he still wants to talk to you now. He wants to see you smile at him, he wants to listen to you talk about what your plans are for when the winter semester is over and the weather starts to become warm again.

He wants to see the twinkle in your eye when you talk about what your newest favorite song is, wants to your your thoughts on whatever new meal you tried out for dinner. Because as silly as it is, in the few months it’s been since he first became your friend, those are the things he’s come to enjoy most and look forward to.

Are you still awake now? Are you staring up at his ceiling the way he is now in the living room? Is his bed comfortable enough for you? Did he leave you with enough blankets?

He could text you so easily to find out, but for some reason the thought of it makes him extremely nervous. You’ve been to the house plenty of times now since becoming friends with not only him, but Felix, Hyunjin, and Changbin, but this is the first time you’re staying overnight.

You initially came at the request to help Changbin, who is currently taking a class you took last semester but is struggling with the material, and needed assistance to understand the concepts he was being introduced to. You brought your laptop with you, using it to show Changbin the detailed notes you took and offering him copies of the study guides you made, and it truly made Chan happy to see you helping his brother out so diligently.

After a couple hours, Changbin let you off the hook, citing that his brain was tired from the overload of information and he’d be hitting the gym to let off some steam. “Oh my god, it’s this late already? I still have to work on my discussion post for this week,” you groaned, evidently dreading the work you’d have to put into making it decent enough for your professor’s obnoxiously high standards.

“I can help you,” Chan offered without even thinking, and God, why did even do that? Because how was he, a high school dropout with no GED, realistically going to help someone as smart as you?

He wasn’t dumb by any means, but what kind of input could he even offer that would benefit you? But despite the way his brain made fun of him for his lapse in judgment, and convinced him that you’d absolutely refuse his help, you smiled at him.

“Yeah, okay! We should get some food too, I haven’t had dinner yet and I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” you spoke cheerfully, opening up a new tab on your laptop to check over the delivery options in the area. He was stunned for a moment, feeling like his entire nervous system was zapped the moment you accepted his offer.

There was no hesitation, no doubt in your mind that he could help despite what you know of his education history– why did that make him feel so warm inside?

The corners of his mouth tugged in a smile as he helped you pick out a restaurant to order from, the two of you munching on burgers and fries as he listened to your thoughts on what your discussion post should be about. You bounced your ideas off him, and while he wasn’t knowledgeable on the subject you needed to write about, discussing it with him still seemed to help you.

It was kind of like thinking aloud; like voicing what you thought worked and what didn’t, what you thought your professor would like to see and what he wouldn’t helped you to formulate a more cohesive outline in your mind. Chan watched as you typed furiously, tongue slightly poked out and brows furrowed as you concentrated on the screen in front of you.

You’d occasionally seek his input, asking things like “does this make sense?” or “do you think this is too much or not enough?” He was entirely out of his depth if he was being honest, but he was happy you wanted his input regardless, and enjoyed seeing a side of you he didn’t typically see.

With Chan’s (albeit limited) help, you managed to finish before the midnight deadline, hitting submit on your post with just a few minutes to spare. You stood up and stretched your arms and legs, feeling stiff from all your time spent hunched at the same spot, a sigh of relief leaving you shortly after.

But then there came the next dilemma– getting home this late into the night. Chan didn’t live far from campus, and thus was near the dorms as well, but the thought of you walking home in relative darkness by yourself didn’t sit well with him.

“You can stay here if you want. You can take my bed, I’ll stay here,” he suggested. You blinked, staying silent as you processed the offer. Chan, who took the quiet as discomfort, was quick to speak up again and try to remedy it, “Or uh, I could walk you back if you’d prefer that–”

“N-No!” you quickly blurted out, face reddening slightly as you cleared your throat to speak more calmly, “I mean– I’ll stay.” Chan nodded, standing up to go up to his room with you; you didn’t need to be led there of course, you already knew where it is, but Chan needed to at least grab a few things for himself before leaving it to you for the rest of the night.

A pair of clothes to sleep in, a blanket, a pillow, his phone charger, and he’s all set. You watched him move about the room while sitting on his bed, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you did. “I’ll see you in the morning, uhm– let me know if you need anything, yeah? I’ll be on the couch, so.. Yeah, good night,” he said with a slight smile before he departed, doing his best to close the door behind himself despite how full his hands were.

Another sigh leaves his lips now, followed by another check of the time; it’s already 2:30 a.m. He doubts you're still awake, and even if you are, he's decided he won't bother you. But if he’s going to lose sleep no matter what, he hopes it's from thinking about you comfortably wrapped in his blankets upstairs, instead of any of the other things that attempt to gnaw at him.

How on earth were you supposed to sleep?

You were in Chan’s bed, surrounded by the smell of his cologne, his stuffed toy wolf clutched closely to your chest because you always held something to fall asleep, but obviously didn’t have any of your own plushies here to do so. And God, your heart absolutely refuses to be still no matter how mundane of a situation you’re in.

Who cares if you’re spending the night in the bed of the guy best friend that you’ve started to develop a crush on? It doesn’t matter! You’re going insane, you think– you can’t take it.

You’re stupid, delusional, thinking about how it'd be if he was still here with you, what it’d be like if he were laying down next to you. Wrapping his arm around you, pulling you against his chest, speaking to you in a gravelly, tired voice and– please brain stop!!

You pour all your mental effort into stopping yourself from thinking about it any further as embarrassment flushes over you. Isn’t this kind of cringey..? Getting a crush on the first guy to ever be nice to you seems so.. Cliche? Pathetic? What is even wrong with you? But when you look at him, you can’t help it.

He may look intimidating to others, but you’ve seen the truth of him since becoming his friend. Maybe it’s just puppy love that will fade with time, but you can’t help but admire him. And maybe that admiration is being fueled by the fact that he’s also incredibly handsome, but that’s besides the point. Underneath the aloof exterior, he’s sweet, caring, humble, generous.. How could you not like him?

And you think about the first time you saw him smile– really smile, full and bright, teeth showing and eyes crinkled as a laugh escaped him. It was so beautiful, you felt like time slowed down around you.

You learned that he had dimples that day; cute ones that made his smile endearing beyond explanation, and that you hoped you’d see again and again and again from that day forward. You loved the way he looked when he was happy, when his hard exterior melted away to reveal the soft features he hid underneath.

Every day spent with Chan was full of a joy you thought you’d lost the capability to feel. You found yourself endlessly enamored by him, by every thing you learned about him; every interaction you had with him, intensified the feeling that welled in your chest.

He was so considerate of you, always watching out for you and making sure you were okay when you were out together. Like the time a few weeks ago when all of you were out together, celebrating Felix’s birthday.

You also met the other guys Chan considered his brothers that day; Jisung and Seungmin, who also had birthdays very close to Felix’s, Minho, who was close in age to Chan and equally as aloof in appearance, and Jeongin, the youngest of them all, though only by a small margin. It was fun to watch them all interact together over dinner, their dynamics quickly becoming apparent.

Changbin, who was typically loud to begin with, became even more so in the presence of Jisung, the pair becoming so explosively loud and chaotic that even the quieter ones like Chan and Minho would end up roped into whatever shouting was currently taking place. You’d laugh as you observed the chaos, and you enjoyed seeing a new side of Chan– one who let loose and had fun, who smiled freely and laughed just as much, who was beautiful beyond words.

You learned a lot about them that day too– about how Minho moved to the opposite end of the city to go to vet school and how Jisung moved into a small apartment with him to make sure he was taking care of himself (and to help care for the cats the older had adopted shortly after.)

Hyunjin, who you already knew was an avid painter, expressed his desire to own a studio some day, and Felix, your favorite barista and baker, talked about all the times he failed at a dessert and forced the others to eat them anyway so they wouldn’t go to waste.

Seungmin was scouted to play baseball, and so moved pretty far away from the others now, but still loved to come back to the city and visit when he could, often with a camera in hand to capture moments he found beautiful. Jeongin was taking a gap year before going to school again, trying to make sure that he was sure about what he wanted to do with his life before committing himself to the hours of work and money spent.

You were in awe of them, truly; they were all so different, yet came together and loved one another so genuinely, as real brothers would. And they all unanimously agreed that Chan was the one who held them together, the one who supported them through everything and helped them during the hardest times in their life.

You loved how anytime someone praised him, or had anything even remotely positive to say about him, his ears would light up red with embarrassment as he turned his gaze away from them. You knew Chan was softie underneath, that was obvious to you from the day you met him, but it was still nice to have your opinion of him affirmed by others, to know that was the kind of person he always was.

And he expressed that he didn’t see his actions as praiseworthy, always feeling awkward when it was brought up. To Chan, it was just human decency to help someone if he had the means to– a feeling that stemmed from the time he spent alone and in need of help when he was a child.

He was well acquainted with that pain, knew how miserable it was, and he didn’t want anyone else to experience it. He couldn’t ignore someone who was clearly in need, so he always helped; even if he wasn’t in the best of circumstances himself, he would do whatever he could for them, no questions asked. And he never asked for anything in return, because to him, seeing the person back on track and happy again was reward enough.

You knew every kind thing they said about Chan was no exaggeration, knew first hand that he truly was the kindest person you’d ever met. He put on a mask of toughness, sure, but there was no one in the world who was as generous and caring as him. You looked at him with pure adoration, which certainly didn’t go unnoticed by Hyunjin, who smiled to himself whenever he saw the way you’d blush or smile whenever Chan looked back your way.

And when you were leaving the restaurant together, each saying your goodbyes as you readied yourselves to head in your separate directions, you saw him. It was pure coincidence– Jae was across the street, talking with some friends as he stood outside the bar smoking, completely unaware of the fact that you were even in the area.

Chan looked at you, noticed the way you suddenly stopped in place and just stared across the street, and he followed your gaze to the culprit. He stepped close to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to his body.

“It’s okay, he didn’t see you,” Chan comforted you, bringing his other hand to your face, directing you to look away from Jae and at him instead, “and even if he did, I’m right here. Just stick close to me, okay?” You nodded slowly, wondering if the thumb that rested on your cheek could feel the way heat rose to it.

The others who were there, a group consisting of just the 3 who lived with Chan, just observed, not daring to step in until the moment was over. They all knew Jae well, and were also well aware of the things he’d done to you, at least on the surface level, and they promised that they’d look out for you too.

You thanked them earnestly at the time, honestly unable to think of a single time you’d ever felt such solidarity, deeply appreciative of them, and of Chan, who brought you all together. But now, as they all stood there watching, they felt it’d be best to leave it to Chan, who you quite obviously had feelings for. Hyunjin and Felix shared a knowing look, deciding to drag Changbin down the street with them before he’d have the opportunity to accidentally interrupt your moment.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he squeezed your shoulder, leading you to walk away from the area with him. There was no romantic intent, you knew that– he was keeping you close to make sure you were okay, to ensure that you were within his reach should anything happen. Chan was a kind hearted person who did anything needed to protect others and there was nothing special about this interaction, you knew that.

But regardless of all those rational thoughts you were repeating to yourself, you couldn’t stop the way it made your heart skip a beat, couldn’t help the way his care for you made your knees weak and face hot. Because even if he never liked you the way you liked him, he still cared about you, and that was enough fuel for your growing crush on him, enough to make your heart beat out of control.

Was he still awake? Chan told you before that he was an insomniac, so it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility that he was just as wide awake as you are. Should you go check?

There was certainly no harm in it– if he did happen to be asleep, you’d just quietly slip back to his room and let him get some much needed rest, while you'd try again to get some sleep. There was really no reason not to go.

Carefully, you rise from the bed, wolf plush tucked safely in your arms and blanket wrapped around you, quietly opening the door and exiting out into the hallway. You’re careful not to make the stairs creak as you make your way down to the living room where Chan is supposed to be, and he immediately comes into view once you’re at the bottom.

It’s obvious he’s awake, phone screen brightly illuminating the otherwise pitch black space. He hears your footsteps as you step closer, lifting his head just enough to see who is approaching him this late at night.

He looks surprised to see you for a moment, an emotion you can’t read in the relative darkness on his face for just a second before he’s sitting up and scooting to the side to make room for you on the couch next to him. “Can’t sleep either, huh?” he asks as you plop down in the spot he’s provided for you next to him, “Is my bed uncomfortable?”

“Oh, no! Your bed was fine, it’s just..” I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it was driving me crazy, you think, but don't admit, “.. a lot on my mind, I guess.” He hums in acknowledgment, definitely feeling the same way; but he didn’t need to drag you down with all that.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he offers, but you quickly shake your head, mortified at the thought of revealing your crush on him. That’s the last thing you should do. “Thanks, but no, I just want to take my mind off it.”

He chuckles a little at your response, opting instead to change the subject, “I see you have Wolf Chan with you.” Wolf Chan? You look down at your arms, the cute wolf toy’s head peeking out from between your arms.

“Oh, he has a name?” you ask and he nods, smiling ever so slightly as he speaks. “Yeah, kinda embarrassing but I had a huge wolf phase as a kid, so my mom and dad got me him for my birthday. Named him after myself cause, you know, kid brain thought it was cool.”

“That’s cute! When is your birthday?” you ask, hoping that you’d have the chance to plan something nice for him as thanks for all he’s done for you in the time you’ve known him. “October 3rd,” he answers swiftly, and you frown.

“..What? It already passed then? Why didn’t you tell me?” your frown transitions into a pout, sad at the realization that you all celebrated his brother's birthdays but not his.

“I.. don’t really celebrate it. Wolf Chan– he was the last gift I got from my parents, the last birthday I had with them before.. Yeah. So I just.. Don’t acknowledge my birthday anymore, I guess?” Your heart sinks, not only because of how sad that is, but because you’re holding something clearly so important and personal to him without even having known it. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know– should I go put him back?”

“Nah, don’t worry. I like it actually,” he smiles softly, sincerely, “I haven’t touched him in a long time myself, so.. He needs the attention. I’m sure he was feeling neglected.” You smile back, relief washing over you instantly, thankful that you didn’t unintentionally make a drastic error. “Well I hope you know, I can’t let your birthday go ignored now that I know it.”

“I expected that,” he replies, knowing full well you’d share that sentiment with his brothers. They still always wish him a happy birthday and get him a gift despite how often he expresses that they shouldn’t.

“Can I ask you something? It’s okay if you don’t want to answer,” you ask carefully, voice quiet and unsure, an underlying worry carried in your tone. Chan swallows, already anticipating what the question will be, the same questions he’s answered countless times, but never gets any easier to talk about.

“What they were like? You must still think about them a lot.” Oh. That wasn’t the question he was expecting. He’s used to being asked what happened, how he's coping, if there’s anything he needs– no one has ever asked about what they were like when they were still here.

He anticipates pity, or a sympathy that while mostly appreciated, makes him feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. Even with practice, there’s still times where he doesn’t know how to react, a terse, “I’m fine, thanks,” leaving him as he plots the quickest way out of the conversation.

Safe to say, Chan isn’t good about talking about his feelings, or even feeling them to begin with for that matter. Apart from moments of weakness, when his facade cracks due to the mounting pressure and overload of emotions, he shares only what he deems necessary, never offering more than the minimum of what is needed.

Even when it came to his brothers, who he trusts more than anyone else, it was hard for him to go beyond his practiced response, taking him a great amount of emotional effort to do so. And he's not confident he can talk with you about how good they were without breaking down, but he can still share a little of how he feels, can't he?

“I do,” he answers after a moment, voice ever so slightly wavering. It's a simple response, sure, but not for Chan– nothing related to this topic is ever simple or easy for him. But somehow he feels comfortable enough to try.

And maybe that’s because it’s encroaching 3am and lack of sleep really takes a toll on one’s mental defenses, but he doesn’t think that’s all there is to it. He trusts you, as he does anyone he’s grown close to, but it takes more than trust alone to be able to open up.

You could trust someone with your life and still struggle to express an emotion, still have the words you want to say die in your throat. Maybe it’s because of what else he feels when he’s around you– an unfamiliar emotion that encroaches on his chest whenever you’re in the room with him.

The one that intensifies his desire to protect you from people like Jae, the one that leads to him wanting to talk to you at all hours about any and every thing that comes to your mind, the one that makes his heart pick up when you smile at him and always makes him return the smile despite himself.

He wants to share with you, he realizes; share everything he can, from his happy moments to his sad ones, his thoughts, his feelings, his entire life even. He wants nothing to be off limits, to be his authentic self before you, even if who he is deep down is ugly and scarred.

“Even just before you came downstairs, I was thinking of them,” he continues, his honesty unfamiliar to himself but not unwelcome; it’s not that he’d lie about anything he felt, but he was just.. Avoidant. He didn’t want to talk about it, refused to even, most times.

But you– you make him want to be honest, not just with you, but with himself. Maybe it’s because of the feelings for you that have begun to accumulate in his heart, or maybe because he knows how similar you are. The circumstances were different, but the feelings were the same; isolation, sadness, hopelessness.

No one to turn to, no one to rely on, fighting all by yourself, with only your own ability to pick yourself back up to carry you forward. Chan knew first hand how painful that existence is, how much it hurts to have nothing, no one. He’s also come to learn, time and time again, that even when you’ve found your place in the world, the void lingers.

The hole in his chest never closes– even if he can stop it’s growth, it never shrinks, never collapses or recedes. There’s reasons for that, he knows; it’s his own fault for not allowing himself to feel, to share, his hesitancy to allow anyone past arm’s length or to chip at his walls.

He doesn’t want that with you– if he wants something with you beyond this, beyond the boundaries of simple friendship, he needs to do more, feel more, share more. It was something he thought he would be terrified to do, an irrational fear that your opinion of him would change if he wasn't as strong as he appeared to be; but now that he's met with the opportunity, instead of fear, he feels.. safe?

“I lost them really young, you know; I was just a kid with a lot of grief he didn’t know how to handle, and the people who took me in didn’t care. ‘Suck it up,’ ‘get over it,’ ‘stop being a baby and grow up,’ shit like that. Didn’t matter that I was only 7 and lost everything, I should just be grateful they gave me a place to sleep and eat."

"Got emancipated at 16 to get away from them, dropped out of school cause I couldn’t balance it with how much I had to work, and I wasn’t gonna miss it anyways. And here I am now,” Chan is hesitant to meet your gaze when he finishes talking, worried about what feeling it might conjure in him when he sees your eyes laden with sympathy.

Normally, the sympathy of others make him feel sick. He hates the pity, hates the attention that comes with having his vulnerabilities on display, hates the words they offer as consolation. But he doesn't hate it for you– the only thing you ever make him feel is warm. So, so warm after a lifetime of cold.

You move across the couch and wrap your arms around him in a hug, an action he didn’t expect– it's the first time you're hugging him. “That must’ve been so hard..” you say softly, care and concern for him evident in the way you speak to him.

He blinks, a lump forming in his throat that normally he’d try to ignore, to push away and act as if he’s fine, but this time he doesn’t. He’s choked up, he’s emotional, and for once, that’s okay.

Carefully, he wraps his arms around you as well, his head resting atop yours as he lets out a shaky exhale. “Can we stay like this for a while?” he asks quietly, his fingers clutching at your shirt, as if afraid you’ll leave him the moment he lets go.

“Of course,” you assure him, moving just enough to make yourself more comfortable and settle in against him, “as long as you need.” He mumbles a ‘thank you’, to which you hum in response, following his lead as he lays back and settles with you in his arms.

You stay like that for a long time– long enough for your breathing to slow, eyes closed and arms beginning to fall from the hug as you drift off. Your head has sank to his chest, his heartbeat, that started fast and erratic, has slowed to a comforting, steady rhythm that lulled you to sleep.

Chan is careful to pull the blanket up to your shoulders, ensuring that you at least are covered and will stay plenty warm until you wake up. He closes his eyes, keeping his arms wrapped around you under the blanket, wanting to keep you close and not let go.

He doesn’t know if he’ll always have this with you; this close comfort, this feeling of peace and calm, of having you in his arms and being able to be held by you, while holding you in return. He likes it, wants it engraved in his memory in case it never happens again, to always remember the way you felt, the way you cared, the safety he felt with you. A small, but cherished moment, special and important to him beyond words.

Was it okay to be this happy? It’s something Chan thought about lately, whenever he had finished spending a day with you, laying in his bed and playing them over in his mind, making sure every little detail was memorized.

The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the feel of your soft skin when he touched your hand or you hugged him tight, the way your perfume lingered in the room long after you’d left it. Did he deserve to be happy?

He certainly didn’t feel like he did, but he welcomed it all the same, too selfish to let go of the small piece of joy he’d obtained. His feelings for you had grown considerably, and he was sure it was obvious to his brothers, who never failed to notice the way he'd change when he was around you; they just knew him too well and were around him too much to not notice something different about his behavior.

He liked you a lot, and there was certainly no way he’d be able to deny it if they asked about it. They didn’t overtly ask about it though of course, more often opting to make subtle nods to their knowledge of it or make suggestions like ‘wouldn’t it be fun if Y/N came too? You should invite her!’ when they had plans together.

Sometimes they even lightly poked some fun, one instance that sticks in Chan's mind being when Hyunjin wanted to show him what he called an “adorable picture.” It was of you and Chan, asleep on the couch together that first time you stayed the night.

Your head on his chest, his arm loosely wrapped around you, blanket having fallen from your shoulders just enough to make Chan’s hand on your back come into view. His face flushed when he saw it, ears burning as they turned red. Hyunjin was right, it was an adorable picture, and Chan was embarrassed beyond belief to see the moment captured.

Hyunjin giggled in a mischievous sort of delight upon seeing the older’s reaction, evidently very pleased with the result he obtained. Chan's typical response in a situation where his feelings are exposed like this would be to play it cool and act like it’s not a big deal, which truthfully, he didn’t want to do.

Why should he pretend he doesn’t like you as much as he does? Especially after he’s decided he’ll do his best to be honest with himself, and by extension, the others in his life (you especially.) Even if it’s embarrassing, or uncomfortable because he’s not used to his emotions being obvious and out on display, it’s what he wants, needs even.

He needs to let them out if he’s going to be a better man than he was the day before, to be deserving of you when the time is right. So instead, he does what would normally be the unthinkable– he owns it. No denial, no avoidance, no playing it off as less severe or important than it really is to him.

“Can you.. send it to me? I– I want to keep it,” Chan asked, easily the most shy and embarrassed to ask a question he had ever been in his entire life. Hyunjin blinked, initially surprised, but then immediately smiled. “Of course Channie-hyung! You should send it to Y/N too, I’m sure she’d like it,” he said as he eagerly opened his message tab, clicking Chan’s name to send the photo he took.

“You could send it to her,” Chan responded before the words following fully sank in. Would you? “You think she’d want it too?” he asked, wondering if Hyunjin could tell how much hope lied in his question.

“Why wouldn’t she? You’re friends, aren’t you? And it’s a cute memory,” Hyunjin said, doing his best to convey why he thinks you’d want it without revealing that you absolutely have as bad of a crush on Chan as he does on you. (And it’s not like you explicitly told him either; it’s just that you’re as obvious about it and easy to read as Chan is.)

“Right, yeah, of course.” Was it silly to hope that Hyunjin would say something like ‘obviously because she likes you!’ …Yeah. Definitely. But when he looked at the picture, it gave him hope that maybe you felt the same way; and if you didn’t, that maybe you would in the future, after he gave his earnest effort to be someone good.

His next bit of hope came during a get together for Hyunjin’s birthday. The weather had just begun to turn warm, the days slowly getting longer and longer, allowing for more frequent outings. Thus, by Hyunjin’s own request, you went to have some fun downtown, hitting up local art scenes and scouting out opportunities for the birthday boy to get some fresh, new supplies.

It turned out to be a long day, with Hyunjin’s interest piqued towards various different places and sights, and as night rolled in most of the group had empty stomachs and aching legs. You all settled for having dinner at the house, picking up takeout and a birthday cake on the way back.

You seemed different after eating dinner, Chan noticed. You were sitting alone on the couch away from the group in the kitchen, who were crowding around the birthday cake waiting for a slice. You were watching them with an almost somber expression, and Chan could’ve sworn your eyes were fixated on him in particular.

Had he done something to upset you? There was nothing he could recall, but he wasn’t exactly well versed or experienced with understanding or handling the complexities of feelings. He could easily imagine a world in which he unintentionally said or did something wrong, but he hoped that maybe you were just tired, and Chan only thought you were looking at him in sadly, when in reality, exhaustion was just catching up to you.

And really, you were staring at Chan, but not for the reason he feared; he hadn’t done a single thing to upset you– quite the contrary, actually. He was good– not just to you, but to everyone. You watched the way he’d shoulder everything, how he’d support endlessly and rarely accept anything back, always so selfless and caring, withstanding anything thrown his way with generous consideration.

You learned a lot about Chan in your time with him; about his youth, what his family dynamic used to be like, how even before he dropped out he had a bad reputation at his school for appearing stand-offish and cold. That reputation followed him for a majority of his life after leaving as well, with most people who knew him having a great dislike for him due to their perceived vision of him and the half-truths (or outright lies) they believed in.

It was only people like you and his brothers, who took the time to know him beyond the superficial front, that knew what a great person he truly was. And truthfully, it angered you; why were people so quick to judge someone they didn’t know?

Chan was the exact opposite of what people made him out to be. He wasn’t violent or cruel, nor was he scary or someone to be avoided at all costs. He was just a boy, now a man, who had suffered far too much pain and cruelty for someone his age, who was just doing his best to navigate the world with the limited resources he had. What was so wrong with that?

But despite all the misconceptions of others, the burdens he carried, or the responsibilities he had, you never once heard him complain about any of it, or show any sign of annoyance. Because despite what people might think about him, the people close to him knew who he truly was– someone who lived his life with compassion and kindness, who was misunderstood but not ill-intentioned, always trying his best despite the difficulties that came his way.

Sometimes you would wonder, though– is he really okay? Chan had dealt with so much, enough to easily break down even the most resolute of people. And as much as he shared, there was equally as much that you didn’t know; about what he felt, if he ever received as much as he gave, if he was truly happy.

You did your best to ensure he was. You always returned whatever favor he gave you, strived to be a reassuring presence for him as much as he was for you, but it was hard to know if that was enough. You wanted to ask, but you didn’t know how best to broach the subject, or if he’d even be willing to talk about it if you did.

He had opened up to you before, during late night chats or if something he saw reminded him of a memory he held, but the moments themselves were quite fleeting, and you worried about him. You always worried about him, no matter where you were or what you were doing, because simply put, you loved him.

You weren’t in love with him (you definitely were), but he was an undeniably important person in your life, who you had a lot of love and care for. He was your friend, and you wanted the best for him.

You’d never force him to share with you or tell you anything he didn’t want to of course, but you hoped he knew that he could if he wanted to. You hoped he knew that he never had to be scared or uncertain when it came to opening up to you, you hoped he knew that you would always listen to him and be there for him.

Chan approached you carefully, working up his courage to talk to you and see if you were okay, and to know if there was an apology he owed you for some unknown grievance. “Are you okay? What’s got you so deep in thought tonight?” he’d asked, trying his best to not show how nervous he felt; you’d stopped looking at him, but he could tell even from afar that you were focused on something.

“Oh, I..” You hesitated a moment, wondering how you should best phrase what your honest thoughts were. You took a quick glance towards the kitchen where everyone else was, noting that everyone still seemed to be involved in their own conversations and antics, not paying any mind to the two of you. That made it a little easier; you think you’d die of embarrassment if they heard what you planned to say next.

“I was thinking about you actually,” you said quietly after turning your gaze back to Chan. What surprised him wasn’t just how openly you admitted it, but how you didn’t seem the least bit angry or upset with him like he was worried you were.

So.. what about him had you so deep in thought, then? “What about me..?” he asked hesitantly, hoping for the best but still slightly scared he was reading you completely wrong.

You swallowed before continuing, worried that you were somehow going to offend him by bringing up what you were thinking. While you felt like you knew Chan fairly well at this point, people can still become defensive or agitated when asked about something personal, and that’s the last thing you wanted him to feel.

But he’s looking at you expectantly, eyes fixed solely on you as he waited to hear what you had to say, so there was no getting out of it now. “I was wondering if you are okay lately. Like.. really okay, and not just saying you are so we don’t worry about you.”

Oh. He was completely stunned by your words, unexpectedly taken aback. No one had ever said that to him before, and he didn’t know how to respond to such earnest concern for him. Obviously, he had been asked if he was okay plenty of times in his life, but never in a way such as this, that insinuated there was a lot more hiding below the surface.

And there was. Deep buried feelings gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged, but he always pushed them down further, reasoning that now wasn’t the time and he’d confront them later, when the time was right.

But when was the right time? It never came, no time ever feeling like the right one. Or maybe Chan just spent so much time avoiding his feelings that now he didn’t know how to confront them anymore. He was so used to sharing so little, that even his earnest efforts were still small in comparison to what most others were able to do.

But how did you realize that about him? Was it just coincidence, or were you already so acclimated to him that you could recognize the way his brain worked? “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you said after his prolonged pause, worried that you did in fact make him uncomfortable as you feared.

“I– No, I was just surprised,” he finally responded, turning to look in the direction of his friends just as you had done a moment prior. They were all joking around, laughing loudly as they made the birthday boy wear a stupid party hat they picked up and putting frosting on his face, leaving Chan in his own little bubble with you.

He turned his gaze back to you, wanting to say something, anything, but finding it difficult to speak, as usual. His words were trapped in his throat, refusing to come to the surface no matter how much effort he poured into trying. You took notice of his hesitancy, and decided to speak again in the hopes of giving him some comfort.

“I just– you’ve done a lot for me since I met you, more than anyone ever has, so… I want to be there for you too. If you need it, I mean, because I really, really care about you..” Your face heats up a bit when you’re finished speaking, feeling nervous from the admission.

This must feel so out of the blue from Chan’s perspective, and that thought made you feel silly for bringing it up in the middle of a birthday party in the first place. And on top of that, you’d openly said how much you care about him, which is embarrassing all on its own. Even if it’s not a love confession by any means, it feels similar enough that it makes your heart pound like crazy.

Chan’s face grew hot, positively burning, heart rate picking up drastically. He hopes you don’t notice the obvious red creeping on his features, or hear how fast his heart is beating against his chest. It wasn’t just the fact that he hadn’t expected this moment to happen that made him react this way, but the way you expressed your concern for him.

You wanted to support him, you wanted to make sure he was okay, you were thinking about him. Normal things, sure, but when coming from someone you have undeniable feelings for, it’s enough to make your blood pressure skyrocket.

He swallowed, preparing himself to make another attempt at speaking. “Thank you, I really appreciate that,” he said, offering a timid smile your way to ease your growing anxiety as he continued, “It might be hard for me, but– but I’ll try, at the very least.. To tell you if I’m not okay, I mean.”

You returned his smile earnestly, evidently pleased with his response. You couldn’t ask him to open up easily or suddenly share all his close-held concerns and deeply buried thoughts, but the fact that he’d try and was open to it was what’s important. If he could trust you the way you had grown to trust him, that’d be more than enough for you to be happy.

From a distance, Felix had taken notice of the way you and Chan hadn’t joined in on the chaos of chasing Hyunjin around the kitchen to cover him with icing, and paused to look in your direction. The others stopped too when they noticed his pause, following his gaze to be met with the same sight of Chan’s burning face and the beaming smile you held towards him. They had hope, as much as Chan did, that there would come a day where the two of you would become a couple.

Was it okay to be this happy? Was it okay for Chan to hope that you returned his feelings? Was it okay to plan his confession, to wonder how his life would look if you said yes, to picture himself kissing you and holding you close at all hours of the day?

There were still things he had to do first, things to get out of and people to get away from, but you were his driving force to do that. You were the motivation to turn his life into something better, the hope he needed to get through it all.

Even if he didn’t deserve it, you made it worth trying. His life, which was plagued with bad memories and remorse for actions taken, became brighter and more livable when you were there to share it with him. Maybe it was okay to have someone to lean on, someone to confide in and share his burden with, someone to ground him and remind him that happiness is possible for him, and that it doesn’t always have to be a fleeting hope or dream.

That’s what you were for him– hope in human form, a dream come true. Everything he wanted, everything he needed, beautiful and perfect in every way. And if you accepted his feelings, he’d never stop showing his appreciation to you, he’d shower you with all the love you could handle and then some, making sure you always knew just how much you meant to him.

There were many things in this life that left Park Jaehyung feeling resentful; the way adults expected absolute obedience from him, the way he was expected to be an exemplary student with no flaws, and the way society projected their version of ‘success’ onto him. He wanted to do what he wanted to do when he wanted to do it, with no one to tell him what is or isn’t proper.

All he wanted in life was to have fun and live by his own terms, consequences be damned. If he wanted to smoke, he’d do it. If he wanted to party, he’d do it. And if he wanted to get with a girl, even one who absolutely loathed his existence, he’d do it. So, what by far angered him more than anything else was the way Bang Chan had thrown himself into your life.

Jae would say that he knew Chan and his crew fairly well, often finding themselves within the same spaces. And from an outside perspective, comparisons definitely could be made between them; after all, how different from each other could some ex-school delinquents be from a shady drop out that no one gave a shit about, and his friends that followed him around like lost puppies?

They’d often find themselves rooted in the same places, attending the same parties, pissing off or scaring the same people; but that was the extent of any similarity between them. Contrary to what an outsider may believe, Jae absolutely hated Chan, and anyone who would look at them and come to the conclusion that they were friends were blatant fucking morons.

From Jae’s perspective, Chan was pretentious and irritating; he always had a holier than thou attitude, looking down on Jae and his friends as if he was any better. Who was Chan to preach about morals and principles? Who gives a fuck about any of that bullshit?

Jae certainly didn’t, and he was tired of being told he was ‘in the wrong.’ If Chan wanted to spend his whole life worrying about whether or not what he was doing was right or wrong, he could, but Jae wasn’t going to listen to it. Besides, it was pretty fucking ironic to get lectured by a “professional fixer" of all people. He really should drop the “I’m better than you” act.

But for the most part, Jae could live his everyday life without interacting with Chan, or seeing any of his loyal idiots. The occasional glare on the street or punch thrown at a party was the extent of their relationship, if you could even call it that. As long as both sides minded their own business, there wasn’t much conflict to be had.

Sure, Jaehyung would love to instigate a problem given how much he disliked them, but he wasn’t stupid enough to start a fight he wouldn’t assuredly win. Some might accuse him of cowardice, but he would argue that it was just being smart. There was nothing to be gained from a losing battle; it was better to bide his time, and wait for the right moment. And there was a critical piece missing in the “right moment” that he still needed; you.

For as long as he could remember, Jae found school pointless. It was repetitive, boring, and everyone around him was exceedingly fake. They all wore such obvious masks, trying (and failing, in Jae’s opinion) to appear without fault. No one was perfect and he found it pitiful to even try and pretend they were.

No matter who you are or what you do, something will be flawed. There will always be something wrong with you, always something there for someone to criticize. So what was the point of it all? By the time he entered high school he was used to this monotony and the ignorance of his peers.

And that’s when he saw you for the first time; shy, vulnerable, unmasked you. You weren’t trying to project anything to anyone that wasn’t authentically you, though at first he couldn’t tell if that was intentional or not. Maybe you simply had no reason to, or you were comfortable not to, or maybe didn’t even realize how different you were amongst the people he’d grown to hate.

Whatever the reason, he was intrigued by your ‘realness’ in a sea of two faced, judgemental people. You were smart but not boastful, kind but not pretentious, beautiful but seemingly modest; and he liked it.

At first, his fixation with you started with simple curiosity driven observation. You were always at the top of the class but never once looked down on anyone below you. And while he personally found studying incredibly tedious and pointless, he did oddly admire how much you devoted yourself to it.

You weren’t born smart, at least he assumed so from how often he witnessed you studying, rather you reached your heights through effort and determination. And instead of finding it a worthless effort like he would if it were someone else, he found himself meeting a strange feeling he couldn't name.

He wasn’t sure why, but watching you give your earnest effort to your studies didn’t piss him off like it did with everyone else. Normally he’d tell someone like you that they were wasting their time– studying was stupid, school was stupid, and anyone who cared about it was stupid as well. So why didn’t he have that same sentiment towards you? Why did he want to encourage you?

Why did he want to always look at you? What was it about you that infatuated him so much? He could have any girl he wanted, ones who lined up with his view of the world and he could woo as easily as he could tie his shoe, but instead he always found his gaze landing on you.

To like someone like you went against everything he ever told himself, but maybe that was okay. Maybe you could change his perspective, make him the kind of person that could care about the shit he's supposed to.

That’s why he approached you that day. He didn’t tell any of his friends what he was feeling or about his intentions to get to know you– it was something he wanted to do for himself. He didn’t want to look at you from afar anymore, he wanted to be next to you. He wanted to talk to you, get to know you, find out what makes you the person you are.

And then his friend fucking ruined it. Maybe it was Jae’s own fault for always putting himself in the leader position, for being the kind of person who can’t let someone else take charge, because that meant he had people waiting on him.

In hindsight, it was obvious someone would notice his absence from the group and come seek him out, but it still pissed him off. And what pissed him off even more were the words his friend spoke.

“I knew it! You do like her!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now what was he supposed to do? His friend’s smug fucking grin was infuriating. Who was he to look at Jae like that? He couldn’t admit he genuinely liked you or say he wanted to get to know you, he had a reputation to maintain.

So, he did the opposite of what he truly wanted to do. He treated you the same way he treated the girls he had flings with, acting like you were some lovesick puppy who couldn’t handle that he didn’t like you the way you liked him.

You were going to hate him after that, he knew it; and maybe he was stupid for even thinking he could have genuine friendship with someone like you given the kind of guy he was. And why should he want that?

He doesn’t do shit like that, he never has, and the fact that you even managed to get into his head and make him doubt the way he’s lived so far pissed him off. You were just a girl, at the end of the day.

And so his complicated, unresolved feelings of frustration and hatred were endlessly unleashed upon you, the undeserving outlet for his confusion and stubborn desire to never change his ways for anyone. He’d live his life the way he wanted, regardless of what anyone had to say about it, and like-minded people could come along for the ride as long as they recognized him as the one on top of it all.

And you, the one he liked for a fleeting moment before it all came down on him; he wouldn’t let you go. Because whether you liked him or hated him, you wouldn’t be able to ignore him. As long as you felt something for him, even if that feeling was hate, fear, or dread, it was a feeling for him, and he’d take anything from you he could, because that was the best he was ever gonna get.

When he saw you at that party, it felt like fate. God didn’t do favors for men like him, but maybe he could start to believe in shit like that if he kept getting blessed like this. When graduation day came, he was sure he’d never see you again. You were moving to god-knows-where, while he’d stay stuck in this shitty city with his shitty friends, doing the same shit he always does.

Well, his time with you couldn’t last forever; this was the inevitable conclusion, after all. He’d just crash wherever he felt like it, work when he felt like it, and maybe get a girl on his arm to take your place when he felt like it. But then he saw you, at this random ass party he went to by chance, purely cause his friends were going and booze was promised.

You hadn’t moved all that far, it turned out. You were still within his reach, and he had you now. Oh, and the look you gave him when your eyes met; he knew he missed it but damn, did it light a fire in him. He had you again, he had you, and then Chan fucking ruined it, like he ruins everything he comes in contact with.

It was okay, he thought. There would be more chances, and Jae could be assured of the fact that no one fucking likes Chan, and you wouldn’t either. Now that he knew you weren’t all too far from where you grew up, he could find you again, and relive his glory days before they ever even faded. But every fucking time he saw you again, Chan was there, ruining it.

Fuck, it infuriated him. And the way you looked at him? What the fuck was that? The way you smiled at him made him absolutely sick; Jae never knew you could smile like that, and why would he? He never did anything to warrant something like that from you. But if he didn’t get to have it, then why did Chan? Chan didn’t deserve shit, and especially not you.

You smiled at him like he was the world, stared at him with twinkling eyes and a flushed face, let him wrap his arm around you and hold your hand with the most shy delight Jae had ever seen. And it all went to Chan? All your pretty looks and radiant smiles were for him? No, he couldn’t take that. If there was one thing Jae was going to do, it was going to be making sure he ruined it for Chan, the way that Chan ruined everything for him.

And finally, his patience was rewarded, because he sees you walking alone in a shopping plaza not all too far away from where you go to school. It’s a popular spot for the local college students, carrying everything they need to get through their daily lives, as well as a few luxuries.

It’s not all that busy at this time of day however; it’s still fairly early on a Friday evening, and if Jae had to guess, that’s precisely why you’re here now, instead of an hour or two later when there will be a rush of students all looking to do some shopping or have a bit of weekend fun.

He wasn’t here for you, having come instead to look for a hook-up, but he’s not going to ignore a perfectly good opportunity when it’s presented to him. He wastes no time in approaching, smiling as he does, eager to put a plan in motion to bring everything Chan wants crashing down on his fucking head.

You freeze when he calls your name, heart sinking as you register the voice you’re hearing. You know it all too well, never able to forget it. Despite your better judgment screaming at you to just keep walking, you turn in the direction you heard the voice to see Jaehyung standing against one of the plaza’s many support beams.

What was he doing here? You want to believe he didn't come out looking for you purposely, but you wouldn't put it past him; he's certainly capable of it. “Long time no chat, huh? Have you missed me?” he asked with the signature condescending tone you were once so familiar with.

“What do you want?” You ask sternly, deciding you absolutely will not entertain any of his mocking. “Wow, so hostile already,” Jae fakes a disappointed sigh as he crosses his arms, “That’s pretty brave of you given your guard dog is nowhere in sight.”

You glare at him as you stick your hands in your pockets, wanting to have your phone at the ready in case he tries something with you. “If you touch me you’ll regret it. Chan will know it was you,” you say, trying to sound braver than you feel. You had no doubt that Chan would kick Jae's ass if he did anything to you, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t try anyways if he really wanted to.

“Yeah, you’re right, which is why I’m not gonna do any of that shit. I just wanna talk to you," Jaehyung says, and your brow immediately raises in suspicion. He just wants to talk to you? Yeah fucking right. “Talk about what? There’s nothing I want to hear from you,” you counter, and he chuckles, having fully expected a reaction like that.

“Just hear me out. How well do you know Chan? Like really know him?” he counters back. “..Why?” you ask with a frown. You wanted to say you knew Chan well, but the truth is that there’s still a lot about him you don’t have insight on.

Despite that, you’re sure that anything Jae has to say about him isn’t going to be the truth, and you certainly won’t let anything from Jae’s mouth change how you feel about someone. Especially not Chan.

“Mm, I see,” Jae responds, seemingly amused at the way you refuse to offer anything up. “How about this then, do you know what he does for a living?” You narrow your eyes at his question. What is he getting at by asking you something like that?

“He works at a convenience store,” you respond flatly, not wanting to give away anything you feel from his pestering. “Oh, does he? Are you sure about that?” he responds with a sarcastic smile that leaves you feeling uneasy. “What are you insinuating?”

“Do you really think that the money he makes at a convenience store earns him enough money to pay for that big ass house he lives in? All the food they eat, their bills, school expenses, everything? Even with a hell of a lot of overtime and his friends pitching in, that’s a bit unrealistic, don’t you think?” he once again counters your question with one of his own, clearly trying to plant seeds of doubt about Chan within you. “Cmon, you’re smarter than that, why don’t you think about it harder?"

You glare at him again, refusing to listen any further or reach whatever conclusion he is attempting to bring you to. “Whatever you’re trying to say about Chan, I don’t care. Tell it to someone else.” You start to turn to walk away, feeling fed up with his game at this point, but he quickly grabs your arm to stop you.

“Let go,” you protest as you try to tug your arm away, but he tightens his grip. “Just listen,” he says as he keeps a firm hold on you, “Chan isn’t as good as you think he is.” You scoff at his words. As if someone like him was any better?

You’d take Chan over him any day, no matter what it is you don’t know about him. “You’re going to lecture me on good people? After all you’ve done to me? Whatever Chan may or may not be involved in, I’d take my chances with him rather than spend even another second around you.”

Jae’s face contorts in anger at your words, and he roughly throws your arm back at you. “Fine, go fuck your piece of shit criminal boyfriend and see where it gets you!”

…What?

Jae sees the shock and confusion clearly on your face, and his usual smug smile replaces the scowl he held just a moment ago. “What, you didn’t know? He does some real bad shit in his free time, sweetheart. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gets arrested one of these days,” he returns to his mocking tone, clearly trying to get even more of a reaction out of you.

“I don’t believe you,” you respond and he laughs, as if he expected to hear that. “Of course you don’t. But I can prove it to you.” “Prove it how?” you question despite your better judgment. You know you shouldn’t indulge Jae by leaning into whatever he was trying to make you think, but if there was some semblance of truth in his statement.. What would that mean for Chan? For his brothers, and for you?

“Meet up with me later, you’ll see then,” he says plainly and you frown in response. “I trust you even less than I believe you,” you say as you cross your arms and Jae laughs again; you certainly have gotten more of a spine since the last time he saw you. "Like you said, they'd know it was me if something happens to you. I really have nothing to gain from tricking you unless I have a death wish.”

You narrow your eyes, contemplating the situation before making any definite decision. You supposed what he was saying is true at least; anything he tried would get back to the guys, and they’d make him regret it with no hesitation.

But even so, you were still hesitant to go along with this. You really didn’t want to give him any satisfaction by buying into whatever he was trying to tell you, but now there was a gnawing feeling in the back of your head telling you that if it was true, and Chan is a criminal, you needed to know.

“..Fine, but don’t expect me to go anywhere private with you,” you finally say, a knot building in your stomach as you commit to seeing what Jae thinks is so terrible about Chan. “Fine with me, princess, just show up where I tell you to and you’ll see everything you need to,” he smirks at you and your stomach churns, both from the smug look on his face and the nauseating nickname.

“I’ll reach out, so don’t chicken out, ‘kay? I expect to see you,” he grins before he turns away, leaving you to resume your evening. As he gets further away, guilt and uncertainty begins to creep up on you. What if this is something you and Chan can never come back from? What if you can never trust each other again? Is it worth potentially losing someone so special to you? You hope beyond words that this isn’t a decision you’ll come to regret.

It takes Jae a week to reach out to you again, doing so on social media cause there was absolutely no way in hell you’d ever give him your phone number. You also didn’t see Chan much that week, the guilt and worry eating away at you every time you looked at him, knowing that at some point, Jae was supposedly going to present you with evidence of Chan being a bad person. You still don’t believe that he is, but you need to put this to rest yourself, and not give room for any doubts about Chan to live in your head.

The address Jae sends you is indeed a public one, a relatively large park just outside of the city that you imagine is popular with the families that live close to it. At the time you’re going though, there definitely won’t be any families there. You have reservations about meeting up with Jae at night, even if it’s at a public place, but he insists that night is the only time that’ll work because “people don’t do shady shit during the day” apparently.

Begrudgingly, you go to the park well before the appointed hour, passing the time on a bench until Jae shows up, having your phone at the ready just in case this is all some sort of elaborate plot to get you where he wants you. He grins when he sees you, shooting you a wave that you don’t reciprocate. “Nice to see you,” he says with a smirk as he walks up to you.

“Can’t say the same about you,” you respond flatly, “let’s just get this over with.” “Gladly,” he responds, motioning for you to stand up. You do, hesitantly, and he walks over to a small hill at the edge of the park, walking up it and expecting you to follow.

“What are we doing?” you ask, cautiously taking steps to reach the top. “Look there,” Jae points across the street, where street lights illuminate a rather empty street, with a small alley just within your line of sight. “Just wait, this won’t take long,” he says, holding his characteristically smug smile as he leans his weight against a tree.

You frown as you turn your attention back to the street, looking around for anything you’re supposed to be noticing but aren’t, but you don’t notice anything in particular of importance. On top of that, your mind is at war with itself, one part scolding you for really following along with this, while the other demands you see it through so you can put any doubts about Chan’s character to rest.

“There we go,” Jae says enthusiastically as two figures appear on the street walking next to each other, one man that you don’t recognize and one that you definitely do- Chan.

“What is this?” you ask, not sure what’s so critically important about watching Chan walk the street with some guy you don’t know. “You’ll see, just don’t take your eyes off him,” Jae responds, pointing forward and urging you to not look away for even a moment.

The pair step into the alley, and while there’s no light to illuminate them fully when they’re off the main street, you can still see them well enough. They’re talking, you think, calmly at first, but then it becomes more animated, with the stranger becoming increasingly more expressive with his arms and hands.

He’s.. panicked? He takes a step back, trying to put distance between himself and Chan, but then it happens- a punch thrown, by none other than Chan himself. He hits the man hard, and he crumples to the ground instantly, arms coming up to protect his head after he’s hit the floor.

That should be it, you think, but no, it continues, with Chan throwing punch after punch, unrelenting. You can hear the main cry out in pain now, his voice carrying easily to you in the otherwise silent area. You don’t understand- what is Chan doing? You’ve never seen him like this, but surely there’s a reason, right?

Chan reaches into the man's pockets now, fishing for something, and he finds it soon enough- his wallet. You watch in disbelief as Chan takes the money and shoves it in his own pocket, throwing the wallet back at the man as if it’s worthless now. When he emerges from the alley, it’s even worse- you can see the blood on his knuckles, can see how it drips down to the ground, evidence that there was no mistake in what you saw.

“Chan!” Jae calls out enthusiastically, rushing down the hill to make his way to him, “Thanks for the show!” Chan looks visibly surprised to see Jae running up to him, but then sighs, rolling his eyes as Jae approaches him.

You move down the hill hesitantly, not sure if Chan has noticed you’re here too, but hoping for some kind of explanation. “Why were you watching?” You can hear Chan question as you start to get to the bottom of the hill.

“What, can’t a guy watch? It’s entertaining seeing a shitty guy get what's comin’ to him,” Jae answers and Chan scoffs before he holds his hand out to Jae, clearly waiting to be given something. “Ironic coming from you. But whatever, I did what you asked, so just pay me so we can get out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah, good doin’ business with you and shit,” Jae smiles as he reaches into his pocket, putting a large stack of bills into Chan’s hand. Jae looks back at you then, who is still standing across the street at the bottom of the park’s hill, confusion and disbelief threatening to rip your brain apart as it tries to make sense of everything.

“There you go princess, all the proof you need,” he says with a smirk; he accomplished exactly what he was hoping to- anything you had with Chan is ruined. Chan is clearly confused, and follows Jae’s gaze straight to you, who he realizes just witnessed the entire exchange. His face changes in an instant when his eyes meet yours, blood draining from his face and eyes going wide.

Jae says something to him then, but he says it so low that you can’t hear it, and Chan’s gaze remains fixed on you, as if Jae isn’t even there anymore. “Well, I’ll leave you two to sort this out. And don’t worry about the guy in the alley, he’s a good friend of mine so I’ll get him home,” he says in a smug tone, clearly happy with the situation he’s created.

“Fuck you Jae,” you bite as you shove past him, rushing up to Chan who has begun to hurriedly step away from the scene. You hear Jae laugh behind you, but you ignore it, fixed on your goal. You need to talk to Chan. “Chan, please wait!” you call to him, doing your best to keep up with him despite how much faster he is than you.

You know what happened just now is wrong, that whatever is going on with him is bad, but you need to hear him tell you why he’s doing it, you need to know what’s going through his head. “Chan-” you’re about to plead again but he stops, allowing you to catch up with him.

He slowly turns to you, hesitant to meet your gaze even as you look up at him. Fuck, he felt so stupid. How could he believe you'd never find out about his secret life? How could he believe that one day you'd be with him happily?

He was so incredibly naive, and he hated it, hated how he had tricked himself into believing he could have normalcy and happiness with someone else. Who was he kidding? There was no way he'd ever be allowed to live a life like that.

“..I need to call Changbin, and then I’ll take you home,” he says lowly as he takes his phone out of his pocket, and you watch as he puts some distance between you, not trying to get away from you but just far enough to have as private of a conversation with Changbin as he can.

“Hey hyung, what’s up?” Changbin’s voice comes through jovially on the other end, but he can tell immediately something is wrong when all he hears is a shaky exhale as Chan tries to find the words. “Hyung, what’s wrong?” A million possibilities race through Changbin’s mind; he knows what Chan does for extra cash, and he knows the dangers that can come from it.

He’s trying not to assume the worst, but fuck, whatever happened must be bad if Chan is choked up on the other end. “I’m gonna be late coming home tonight. I, uh.. I need to take Y/N home. She’s with me,” Chan says and Changbin is quiet for a moment as he processes the information he was given. “I thought you had a job tonight, though. Are you saying..?”

“Yeah, she saw me,” Chan interjects, not even needing to let Changbin finish his question. “Fuck, okay, just.. Take your time, alright? Don’t rush to come home, we’re fine. I’ll let the others know you'll be out a while, just take care of Y/N.”

“Yeah, I will.. Thanks, I’ll see you later,” Chan mutters into the phone before he hangs up, stuffing it back into his pocket and taking another shaky breath before he turns back to you. “Chan-” you start when you see him walking back over to you, but he quickly cuts you off.

“Let’s get you home, I didn’t park my car too far from here,” he says tersely, walking briskly towards the end of the street. You frown, but decide not to dwell on it too much; you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now, and the last thing you want to do is make the situation even worse than it already is.

You follow him swiftly, trying not to be concerned about the silence between you. It doesn’t take long for you to see his car, parked in a nearby empty parking lot, the only car in sight. Chan doesn’t drive much, his car basically reserved strictly for work and emergencies, so you’ve only been in it a handful of times.

You wonder now though if this is the reason he only uses it when he has to– do police know his license plate? You don’t know if you’re ready to find out the answer to that question.

When you reach his car, he unlocks it wordlessly, and you both enter quietly, neither of you uttering a single thing even as he starts the engine and pulls onto the street. You want to try talking to him again but you aren't sure if you should even try yet; he's very clearly upset but if he's not ready to talk about it yet then there's nothing you can do.

Truthfully, Chan desperately wants to say something, hating the silence he was subjecting you to, but found himself at a loss for words and stuck in his own head. Jae's words before he walked away rang in his mind over and over again. "If you think a good girl like her can fall in love with trash like you, you're pathetic." And it was true, he was pathetic.

It was pathetic to pretend he could have a better life than this. Pathetic to think you would always be with him. Pathetic to think anything about him was worthy of love. What kind of happy life was he hoping for when this is what his life was truly like?

He knew there was no easy way out of this kind of shit once you entered it, but at the time he really had no choice. He tried everything else possible and there was nothing left; and even with how dangerous he knew it could be he was resolved to see it through because when he began he was just a kid in desperate need of cash at any cost.

He wishes things could be different now. He didn't want you to ever see this side of his life, to see the kinds of things he had to do to afford all of the things a person needs to survive. And while the rational part of Chan's brain was telling him there was no way you'd just walk away or hate him, it was overpowered by the wave of self loathing washing over him.

Because even if you didn't hate him after this, could you love him? Could you even still look at him the same way you could just last week, when you gave him that bright smile you always did. Would you still want to confide in him? To rely on him? To let him rely on you? He doesn’t know if you realized it, but Chan has come to rely on you a lot.

Not in the overt ways like asking for help or opening up about his deepest thoughts, which he only did on occasion, but in the normalcy you offered him. In your presence, Chan felt like the life he wanted was attainable, like he could leave all the bad behind him and have something good.

You were always there to distract him from the life he led privately, to give him a sense of peace. He could be comfortable around you, and allow himself to relax. He could be carefree and live in the moment instead of being stressed about what the future held for him. He could forget about all his regrets just from seeing you smiling up at him.

Late at night when insomnia was gripping him, he would look over your messages fondly and wonder what it would be like to share a bed one day. For you to be next to him on his worst nights and help lull him into a peaceful sleep that he wasn't normally rewarded. To kiss you awake and bask in how beautiful you’d be naked with the morning sun glowing around you.

To Chan, any chance of that future with you was taken away the moment you saw the ugly truth of his life. Even if by some miracle you decided you still wanted to be around him, he knew it wouldn't be the same. There was no way your view of him wouldn't be tainted after this.

You'd become strained, being pulled away from each other little by little until nothing was left of the friendship you once held, or of the feelings he'd hoped to admit to you when he was able to leave behind the things that bound him. He should just leave your life now, before things get even worse; the pain he'd have to endure if he held on now would become unbearable.

You'd distance yourself from him, you'd meet a good guy who actually deserves you and fall in love, you'd forget all about him.. And that's how it should be. You deserved better than him; he knew he had nothing of worth to offer you.

And he was sure in response you'd bring up how he was there for you and supported you, but anyone could do that. That was the bare minimum of a relationship. What did he have to offer you other than support? There was nothing he could think of that felt good enough or like he was worthy of anyone's time, much less yours.

It was better to get the heartbreak over with now.. it would hurt, but much less so than if he prolonged the process. He needed to just rip the bandaid off now and get it over with for both your sakes. He couldn't delay the inevitable.

You felt stiff, the silence deafening as he drove you to your dorm. You couldn't tell what Chan was feeling anymore, his face completely void of anything, as if he turned his emotions off entirely. You didn't know what to do; he cut you off when you tried to speak to him earlier, and now it seemed like anything you said now wouldn't reach him. It was as if he was running on autopilot, like he wasn't truly there with you anymore.

It didn't take all that long to reach your street given that you were traveling by car, and you felt dread welling in your gut. You wanted to talk to him, to tell him you know he must have his reasons, that you understand that life is cruel and he's probably just doing what he has to, to tell him you understand why he didn't tell you but that you want to hear him out and be there for him regardless. You were approaching your dorm now, and you turned to look at him once again.

He was so close but felt so far away, his face remaining devoid of emotion. His gaze didn't meet yours, instead he stared straight ahead at the street even after he parked, as if purposely avoiding your eyes. "Chan.." you start again, hoping he'll finally respond to you. You see him swallow and his hands tense up, clutching the steering wheel tighter now.

His lower lip begins to tremble, but he tells himself he can't give in. This is what is best for you, he's sure of it. Just rip the bandaid off now, it'll be better that way. He can't make your life worse if he steps away now. He can't give himself false hope if he lets you go now. "Chan, I–" "Just go inside," he cuts you off, the pain evident in his voice despite how hard he's trying to mask it.

"But I–" "Don't. Please don't. Just go." Tears well in your eyes, but you obliged, feeling like now isn't the time to push him on anything. Chan doesn't watch as you exit the car, nor does he acknowledge the way you look back at him one last time before you enter your dorm.

It's better this way. It's better this way. It's better this way. He lowers his head to the steering wheel, resting his forehead against his shaking hands. And for the first time in years, he really cries, knowing that you'll never look at him the same again.

You woke up the next morning with the hopes that Chan was ready to talk to you. You texted him when you were in bed last night, telling him that you care about him and that you just want to talk to him, but he left you with no response.

You reasoned with yourself that he’d need more time; Jaehyung unveiling Chan’s deepest secret to you must have shaken him far more than you can imagine, and it makes sense that he’d need time to process.

Chan led an undeniably hard life, you knew that well at this point; he lost his parents young, his adoptive family were terrible to him, and he dropped out and left them behind to try to make it on his own. He never shared any details about the things he had to do as a child to get by, just leaving it at simple statements that offered no further context.

And you weren’t deluded into expecting anything from him; regardless of details he did or didn’t share, you knew he had been through a lot and you weren’t going to ask anything of him that he wasn’t prepared to offer up himself.

You figured that one day, when Chan had grown comfortable enough and was assured that you were a safe person to share the details of his life with, he’d break down his barriers on his own. All you had to do was be there for him, be consistent with your words and actions, and offer him a safe space to be his authentic self; whatever that self may be.

And while this wasn’t the outcome you had expected, you hoped that all your efforts up until now had shown him that you were someone he could trust. You weren’t going to judge him, you weren’t going to abandon him, your opinion of him hadn’t changed with the truth. And you told him as much through messages, hoping that when he read them that he’d believe your words.

When he didn’t respond you were saddened, but it had only been a few hours since everything took place so you didn’t fault him. You were sure he just needed time, and you didn’t want to put any further pressure on him when he was clearly upset, so instead you just offered kind words to assure him everything was okay.

However, as the days passed on, you began to lose hope that he’d ever respond. You did your best to stop the sadness encroaching in your heart, telling yourself that there could be a ton of reasons he isn’t speaking to you right now. You shouldn’t jump to conclusions, there was surely a reasonable explanation.

His life didn’t revolve around you after all, and a small break in communication shouldn’t linger over you like this. You continued to comfort yourself with rational explanations as you went about your days, hoping with all your heart that you weren’t just deluding yourself.

Felix, who saw you most days due to your routine of coming into the cafe he worked at, could see the toll it was taking on you to have Chan not talk to you. He didn’t even know what exactly happened; Changbin said the two of you had a tiff, but that it should resolve itself after a bit since the two of you cared so much about each other.

But as time went on, with Chan so distant and holed up in his room unless he was working, he wasn’t so sure that whatever went on between you was something minor. And then when you stopped in one morning, you confirmed what Felix already feared; that Chan’s isolation didn’t extend to just them, but to you as well.

He wasn’t replying to any of your texts, and that made Felix’s concern for the two of you grow tenfold. So he talked about it with the others in the house, and the 3 of them agreed that you should come over to try and make whatever happened right. And besides, all of you were friends, so it only made sense to facilitate a resolution between you.

They ask you over on a friendly pretense; it’s been a while since you all hung out together, and some fun seemed like it was much needed. You were nervous given the state of your friendship with Chan, but ultimately agreed because you really did miss them as well.

Changbin was the one to answer the door when you arrived at their house, smiling and easing your anxiety by making casual conversation with you. Hyunjin and Felix smiled as well when they saw you, greeting you warmly and offering you hugs before you sat down on the couch.

Hyunjin sat next to you, while Changbin and Felix sat on the chairs nearby. “Is Chan here?” you asked, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you glanced toward the stairs. “Not yet, but he will be soon! While we wait, we should figure out dinner. Anything you want?” Felix suggests and you smile as you nod, feeling comforted by the fact that you have such good friends.

Chan walks into the house not much later, freezing up once further inside and seeing you sitting there with his brothers. “Hey hyung, we’re just ordering some food before we have a movie night! You should join us,” Felix smiles, hoping that once Chan sees you all together, he can put aside whatever made him so upset and can go back to how things were before.

Your heart breaks when you look at him, noticing that his dark circles are worse than before, hurt by the knowledge that he must’ve lost even more sleep than he already does, and it’s all your fault. He avoids your gaze, looking instead at his brothers; he knew this was bound to happen, you became friends with them just as much as him, after all.

And while Changbin knew the real reason behind Chan’s distance from you, the other 2 didn’t, so of course they’d invite you over to the house and try to rebuild the bridge that he’d burnt. But he couldn’t take it; the way all of you stared at him, expecting something from him.

You swallow, trying your best not to cry as you look at him, waiting for him to say something to ease all the sadness and anxiety within you. “..No, thanks,” he mutters, going quickly up the stairs and straight to his room, the sound of his door closing clearly heard once he’s reached it. Dejection settles in your gut, your heart shattering into more pieces than you could possibly count.

Changbin, who is sitting directly across from you, is the first to see your crestfallen expression, and he tries to offer you words of consolation, but you can barely even hear them. You stare down at your lap, trying to blink away the tears that welled in your eyes. Would he never speak to you again? Did you irreparably damage his trust in you? Why wouldn’t he say anything to you?

He was the first person in your life to ever see what Jae was doing to you and help, and he brought with him the kindest people you had ever known. He supported you through your tears, he protected you from the people who wanted to hurt you most.

He listened to you as you talked about your life's worries, even when it was something silly like not wanting to do the night's homework. Chan became a constant in your life, truly living up to his promise to be there for you during any and everything, both good and bad. And now that same person was pulling away from you for reasons you couldn’t understand.

The tears begin pouring before you can even try to stop them, falling to your lap and darkening the fabric of your pants where they fall. Hyunjin notices right away, and pulls you into a hug, trying his best to comfort you by assuring you that nothing happening was your fault.

“It is my fault,” you choke out between sobs, burying your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder as sobs escape you. Felix quickly moves in next to you as well, rubbing your back and offering just as much kindness as his brother.

Changbin’s expression turns into a grimace as he listens to you sniffle and sob, how you blame yourself for everything that was happening despite his brother’s best efforts to calm your aching heart. What the fuck is Chan doing?

Felix watches him stand, a look of concern painted on his features; nothing good happens when Changbin is angry. “I’ll be back,” he says with irritability clear in his voice, stepping away from the chair and to the stairs.

He reaches Chan’s bedroom door in a matter of seconds, trying the door knob without hesitation and is pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Good, so he didn’t have to pound at the door and make him come out then. He opens it swiftly, met with the sight of Chan simply sitting on his bed, doing not much of anything.

Chan frowns as he turns to his now open door, but isn’t all that surprised at this turn of events. He knew one of them would confront him eventually, and Changbin wasn’t one to hold his tongue if something was on his mind. It was only a matter of time before Chan got what he was anticipating.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Changbin questions, wasting no time at getting straight to the point. Chan expected that Changbin wouldn’t waste any time dancing around the subject, but he still wasn’t prepared to unearth the extent of his self loathing.

Was he really going to admit how pathetic he felt out loud? Admit to how much he hated himself? Admit to how he felt unworthy of anyone’s time? The silence only served to spur on Changbin’s annoyance, and he crosses his arms as he steps closer to Chan. “Are you really not going to say anything?”

Chan looks up at Changbin from his seat, meeting his accusatory gaze. “It’s better this way.” he says and Changbin scoffs in response, clearly finding his answer unsatisfactory. “Oh yeah? Y/N crying her eyes out because you refuse to acknowledge her is better?”

Chan’s heart squeezes in his chest at hearing that you’re crying, but he still knew it was for the best. After the initial pain she’ll move on and forget about me like she should. She shouldn’t want someone like me. She shouldn’t support someone like me. I have nothing. I am nothing.

“Yeah, it’s better.” Chan manages to force the words out. “What about what you promised her? Are you going to sit around and do nothing if Jae targets her again?” Changbin’s voice raises, not quite a yell but still louder than his previous speaking tone.

“She still has you and the others.” Chan frowns as he answers. It’s not like he was leaving you completely alone and defenseless; his friends were your friends too now, and he knew they wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

“We’re not the ones she wants,” Changbin nearly shouts, and Chan tenses at this, the statement clearly striking a chord in him. “That’s the whole problem! I shouldn’t be the one she wants!” Chan shouts suddenly as he stands from his bed now, seemingly unable to control the sudden outburst.

He freezes after realizing he just said what he was thinking out loud for Changbin to hear; now he knows how pathetic and cowardly he truly is, and there would be no taking it back. Changbin’s brows furrow in bewilderment as he stares at Chan.

He understood that what Chan did to make money has risks, and he understood why he wouldn’t want you to be a part of that. What he couldn’t understand was why Chan was shutting you out now that you knew about it. Why was he needlessly subjecting you to pain when, in his opinion, you could simply talk it out?

From Changbin’s perspective, everything would be okay. You clearly didn’t think negatively of him after the reveal, you were still seeking him out and wanting to be near him regardless of what you’d found out about him. And even if you did harbor some ill feeling about it that Changbin couldn’t notice, you were at least trying.

You weren’t going to let something you cared about go over a single event, unlike Chan, who was acting like a fucking coward right now. He was throwing everything away, and for what? He just couldn’t wrap his head around it.

“You’re being a fucking idiot,” Changbin scowls. “You just don’t understand,” Chan counters and Changbin scoffs at the statement. “Then make me understand. What am I not getting here? I’d love to know.” Changbin challenged him, words dripping with frustration.

You don’t understand that she’s too good for trash like me. What is there to love about me? What can I offer her that couldn’t be given by someone else? What kind of life can we live together with the things I've done? She’s smart, ambitious, beautiful..

She can strive for better life and a better person. Someone with high aspirations. Someone who has a better education. Someone who didn’t lead a dangerous life and could put her in danger just by association.

But instead of saying all that he just averts his gaze, stepping down from Changbin’s challenge without a word. “Fine then, you can have fun with your pity party by yourself, cause I’m not staying to watch it,” Changbin bites as he swiftly turns his back to Chan, preparing to leave his room.

“You may be willing to treat a promise like it’s nothing, but don’t expect the rest of us to be okay with it.” He leaves as soon as he’s finished, slamming Chan’s door behind him as he goes.

Right. This is what he deserves. To have nothing and no one, just like before. Because why should he have anything good after what he’s done? He wanted to be the good person you saw him as, but he just isn’t.

He’s the worst kind of hypocrite, his virtue circumstantial and fleeting. The good things he did for the people he cared about didn’t cancel out all the bad that came before it, forever staining him no matter how many layers he scrubbed.

He tried to comfort himself by saying he did it because he had to, because he had no other choice and couldn’t afford to live otherwise, but did it matter? Could he say he lived a life his parents would be proud of? No, but you made him want to try.

And he was trying, so, so hard; to leave all that bad shit behind, to be someone worth caring about, to be better. But there are some things that never change, some things that can’t be left behind or escaped from no matter what you do, and he supposes this is just another reminder of that lesson.

The weeks that followed Chan’s refusal to see you were easily the most painful of your life. You’d never experienced a heartbreak like this before, any pain you thought you felt before paling in comparison to the utter anguish you felt from the loss of Chan in your life.

At least before, when you had become distant and separated from friends, you still had contact; you could message each other freely, you could meet up during school breaks or even weekends if time permitted, you still had your bond despite being in different places. But with Chan, it felt like he burnt every bridge he ever had with you.

You gave up trying to talk to him all together, letting the amount of messages you’d send in a day fizzle more and more, until they inevitably reached zero. In your daily life, you still had the others, but it didn’t feel the same; you felt like an intruder now, like you were encroaching on their space.

You felt like you would just cause strife by being there, so eventually you stopped accepting invitations to hang out with them. Even when you saw them away from the house, you couldn’t meet their smiles the way you once had, because all it did was deepen the ache in your heart.

You wanted to appreciate it, to thank them for trying to keep your friendship alive, but every time it just served as a reminder that Chan wouldn't be there for you anymore. You also felt at fault for causing a rift between them.

Though you stopped staying around the group pretty soon after Chan made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you, you could tell things weren’t the same between them anymore. Changbin especially always seemed to be upset with him, calling him an idiot or a coward, making his distaste for what happened well known.

Hyunjin would continue to assure you that nothing was your fault, that Chan just had complicated feelings to work through, but despite his words, you couldn’t stop yourself from feeling at fault regardless. If Chan had never helped you in the first place that day he saw Jae on you, their friendship wouldn’t be in this state.

If you were a stronger person back then, someone who could handle things by herself, then he wouldn’t have had to step in. And now even Felix makes an effort to comfort you all the time, going as far as to give you an extra cookie and discounting your coffee whenever you’re in his cafe.

They always showed you just how kind they were, compassionate beyond words and so patient (well, maybe except Changbin, who definitely was not patient.) Truly, you admired them, and Chan above all, who they credited for bringing them together and making them who they are in the first place.

But now that same person who you had quickly grown to admire so much was avoiding you on all fronts, leaving you with nothing else to do but move on or wait for him to come to terms with whatever he was struggling with.

And truthfully you didn’t want to move on, but waiting wasn’t becoming any easier. Despite the fact that he was within reach, there was nothing you could do. Every glimpse you caught of him or reminder of his absence from his friends left your heart aching in your chest.

Before you realize it, your last class of the day has ended, and you sigh as you look down at your nonexistent notes. You found it difficult lately to focus on your work with your mind cycling through all its thoughts about Chan.

You used to find an escape in your school work; even if everything was crashing around you, you could pour your energy into your work, and find some satisfaction with the good grades you got in exchange for your efforts. But now even that was difficult for you, and you sighed as you knew you’d have to play catch up in your spare time if you wanted to maintain your grades.

It was the first time in your life you’d ever felt so inadequate; even though it was merely a stress induced performance loss, it still tanked the confidence you had in your ability to succeed, which was the last thing you needed to add to your growing list of problems.

Your only saving grace at this point was that Changbin agreed to help you out, and that your professors were gracious enough to let you re-do assignments or get in some extra credit (which they only did because of the good track record you had before your personal life tanked.)

Truthfully, you felt terrible requesting Changbin’s help to catch back up in your classes, but he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. He thankfully agreed to study away from the house so you wouldn’t risk seeing Chan, and having your heart shatter again after having just managed to start picking up the pieces.

You text him now that your class has ended to make sure the study session is still on, and with his confirmation, you decide it’d be a good idea to head back to your room and prepare to meet up with him. It takes you no more than 15 minutes to get back to the dorms from where your last class was, and you spend a decent amount of time cramming your bag full of all the textbooks and supplementary materials you’ll need for the evening.

The plan was to study together at Sunshine Cafe, where the two of you could sprawl your belongings out on one of the coffee tables towards the back and sit on the comfort of the couch, while Felix would provide you with snacks and drinks to get you through the brain overload you’d certainly begin to feel.

It’ll still be some time before Changbin meets up with you given that your class schedules don’t entirely align, but it’d still be good to head out and get some self study in until he gets there. And you could really use a change in secenery given that all you've done lately is go to you classes and then straight back to your dorm when they were over.

Once assured you have everything you need tucked in your bag, you sling it over your shoulders, letting your roommates know you might not be home till late before you head out. Walking to the cafe with all the extra weight on your back and shoulders certainly isn’t pleasant, but you’ll just have to deal with it if you want to make sure you do well on your catch-up assignments and upcoming exams.

And all in all, you actually feel pretty good right now; your friendship with Chan and emotional state might be in shambles, but at least you’re trying your best to pick yourself back up, and that’s what matters most, right?

But all that positivity you feel is drained in an instant, when at the end of the street you’re on, you see Jae standing right in your path, looking at you with a smile once he notices you’re there. You curse, knowing you still have a few blocks to traverse before you reach your destination, and that anything could happen in the time it takes to get there.

He starts to approach you, smirking as he does- you don’t know what he has planned when he reaches you, but you don’t want to find out. Did he know that Chan stopped being there for you? Does he think that now that Chan is out of your life he can do whatever he wants? Or was it a cruel coincidence that he saw you here, a coincidence that he now plans on taking advantage of?

You still have the others, but it’s extremely possible that Jae either doesn’t know, doesn’t care, or is willing to risk it now that Chan being out of the picture takes away one of his biggest threats. There’s a slight hope that maybe he just wants to say something, rubbing salt in your wound by saying “I told you so,” and then he’d go on his way, but the look in his eyes tells you otherwise.

He has the same insidious look you saw every day when you were in school together, the twisted delight in his eyes that told you whatever you were in for wouldn’t be pleasant. You quickly turn the other direction, ducking into a side street you’d passed moments prior, hoping that you can either use the side streets to make it to the cafe or make Jae lose sight of you.

If you were lucky, you’d make it there with no problems, and Felix could shelter you in the cafe until Jae left on his own or Changbin showed up and made him leave. You hear Jae’s laugh behind you, and you panic as you notice that he’s catching up to you much quicker than you’d hoped, the weight of your countless textbooks and study materials definitely not doing you any favors.

Shit- what do you do now? It becomes increasingly apparent that Jae catching up to you is inevitable, and there is nowhere for you to turn to escape him. As quickly as you can, you grab your phone from out of your bag, hoping that Jae doesn’t realize what you’re doing.

You needed to call Chan; you weren’t even sure if he’d uphold the promise he made to you at this point, but what other hope did you have? Chan was the person who said he’d always answer if you called him, and you wanted to believe that. No, you had to believe that.

Not wasting any further time thinking about it, you send Chan a ping of your location before promptly pressing the call button on his name, haphazardly shoving your phone back in your bag and praying that Jae doesn’t notice as thing when he reaches you.

Chan frowned as he sat on his couch, once again thinking about you despite his best efforts to get you off his mind. Despite how much he knew it was best to detach himself from you, he still found himself unable to do so easily.

Maybe it was his underlying selfishness that didn’t want to let you go, or that his feelings for you had just grown far too much to be quashed, but he couldn’t help but continue to worry about you every day. He felt stupid being so upset about a decision he made, that he truly felt was the right thing to do, but the right decisions are never the easy ones, or so the saying goes.

But still, the gnawing feeling continued to eat away at him day after day. ”You’re seeing Y/N today right?” he couldn’t help himself from asking Changbin before he left for the day, and he rolled his eyes, giving Chan an incredulous look.

“So you care all of a sudden, huh? Heard me talking about it with Felix? Yeah, we’re meeting up when my classes are over. But don’t worry,” Changbin says with a mildly sarcastic tone before he continues, “I’ll do a good job of looking after her since you won’t.”

Chan frowned at Changbin’s tone, but he knows it isn’t entirely undeserved given the circumstances. You’re their friend too after all, and he wouldn’t talk kindly to this either if the roles were reversed and it was someone else doing this to you.

“Binnie-hyung is still giving you a hard time, I see,” Hyunjin said as he stepped in from the kitchen, sitting next to Chan with his breakfast in hand. Chan just sighed in response, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the back of the couch.

Was he really doing the right thing or was he just deluding himself into thinking so? Even putting aside the fact that he hasn’t loved himself a day in his life, isn't it just objectively true that you should want nothing to do with him? He knows you care about him, but it’s not exactly uncommon for good people to put their love in the wrong places, and Chan is definitely one of those wrong places.

“It’s not too late to make up with Y/N if you want to, you know,” Hyunjin spoke carefully, hoping that at the very least Chan would openly admit and talk about what went so wrong instead of keeping everything so bottled up inside.

Time passed, and for a moment Hyunjin thought Chan wouldn't say anything at all, before he suddenly spoke up. “I.. don’t know about that. I’m not sure if I even want her to forgive me.”

“Why not?” Hyunjin asked, taken aback by the admission. Chan sighed again, self-doubt and anxiety making their presence obvious as they always did when he was dealing with complicated emotions. Truth be told, there was a lot of lingering doubt about his reaction towards you that Chan was scared to confront.

Should he stop being so stubborn and talk to you or should he be assured in his decision and maintain his distance? He heard multiple times that he was an idiot for detaching himself in the first place (mostly from Changbin, who was the most outspoken with this thoughts), and though he felt like it was the right decision at the time given all his faults and self-doubt, he couldn’t fight the way he missed being around you every day.

He knew how much it would hurt to separate himself from you, but it’s what felt right at the time given the tirade of self-hatred that told him he had to. He knew the guys didn't agree, and he knew it hurt you just as much as it hurt him, but how was he supposed to explain to everyone how much he hated himself?

How much he loved you but knew he would just hold you back? You deserved better than to fall in love with a criminal for hire with no future ambitions. You deserved better than someone who was just coasting through life until the day no one needed him anymore and left him behind.

Not to mention that the only ones who knew the full extent of what he did in secrecy were Changbin, Minho, and now you. And he would've been okay with anyone else finding out the depths of terrible deeds, anyone of the other people he cared about but you. Just not you, anyone but you.

He used to not think at all about what it would be like to fall in love with someone; he assumed he could just figure it all out when the day came, even if it was years down the line. His mental health was in the gutter and life was hard, but when isn’t it? Aren’t most people unhappy?

Besides, he still had his friends, and that was good enough for him. And he didn’t want it to sound like he was never happy, or always miserable, but it wasn't until he spent more and more time with you that he realized how much he yearned for a deeper connection with someone.

Sure, being with his brothers made him happy, and the time he spent with them was valuable and irreplaceable to him, but what would happen in the future when they had their own lives? He barely sees half of them anymore, and soon the other half will move on too, following their dreams, meeting more and more new people, making new friends and building families.

And what would Chan have at the end of it all? Nothing, he had come to realize. He would have absolutely nothing.

No goals, no ambitions, and nothing to offer other than the bare minimum. And he knew you well enough now to know you would say that it's enough, but he just couldn't agree; to Chan, it was nowhere near enough for you, enough for anyone.

Becoming your friend opened his eyes to how many mistakes he’d been making, made him confront the reality that feelings and wants you bury deep down will always resurface, and he knew he couldn’t avoid all the things he’d been trying to anymore.

A lifetime’s worth of sadness, more regrets than he could count on his fingers, and a longing for connection with someone who would love him as he was, faults and all, and help him become better. He had that chance with you, and he blew it.

And then, instead of trying to make it right, he retreated back into the very shell he tried so hard to break out of. Instead of putting out the fire that had grown, he watched it burn, telling himself it was better to let everything become ash than risk the burns he would suffer from trying to salvage what little he had.

In the end, it’s all excuses. He didn’t want to face the fact that he was scared, or admit how little his self-worth he really has. So he fled the scene, and when he was called out, his arguments rang hollow, because even Chan himself knew how little his words could actually be believed.

It was true that Chan didn’t believe he deserved anything good, but maybe it was okay to let people care about him regardless. Maybe he needed them to, so that he could finally allow himself to be happy.

And so he talked to Hyunjin; he told him everything, about what he did, how he felt then and how he feels now, and about how much it hurts to be away from you when he’s so fucking obviously in love with you but feels too worthless to be around you. It was a lot of information to take in, but Hyunjin was truly happy he was finally doing something that was long overdue.

Chan had spent so much of his life avoiding his feelings and keeping his thoughts to himself, that Hyunjin expected him to dance around it, but he hadn’t. It was proof of the positive effect you had on him, evidence that Chan needed you even more than you thought you needed him.

Chan didn’t cry, though he certainly felt like he would at times, and Hyunjin truly was proud of him. Sure, he learned some things about Chan that definitely came as a shock, but he had hope that once Chan was done processing all his complicated feelings and getting himself out of the bad shit he no longer wanted to associate with, the two of you could go back to the friendship you once had.

He’d left Chan alone after that, citing that he had commissions to work on, though really he just thought it would do Chan some good to have some time to himself. He needed to let his thoughts and feelings settle, and hopefully get another step closer to reconnecting with you.

Chan himself was still on the couch, thinking a lot about what he should do going forward. Why did everything always have to be so complicated? He’s there for a while, cycling between various thoughts related to you and his feelings, when his phone suddenly buzzes from within his pocket.

He pulls it out, immediately being met with a message from you, the first you've sent in weeks. But it’s… your location? You’ve never sent him it before, and the fact that you did so without any other context spreads worry through him.

And before he can even react to receiving the message, a call comes through, caller ID clearly displaying your name. Out of all the time you'd known him, this was the first time you were actually calling him. He swallows before he answers, nervous as all hell but knowing he shouldn’t hesitate if you need help.

“Hello..?” Chan answers carefully, unsure if he should speak at full volume until he knows what kind of situation you’re in. His hand immediately clenches around his phone when he hears Jae’s voice clearly taunting you on the other end; it’s muffled, your phone’s speaker clearly blocked by something, but the voice Chan hears is unmistakable.

He curses under his breath as he moves the phone from his face to mute himself, not wanting to accidentally make Jae aware that you managed to call him. Chan refused to risk Jae finding out and ending the call before he can find out what exactly he’s doing to you.

"Aww, crying already?" he hears Jae's voice patronizing you. Chan scowls, fully aware that there’s no time to waste. He gets his shoes on as quickly as possible, sprinting out of his front door and rushing down the street in a matter of seconds.

The location you sent him is on a side street not all too far away from the house, and he hopes that Jae hasn’t dragged you too far away from the spot you sent him. The city is huge when you’re in the heart of it after all, and there would be more possibilities than Chan can count as to where you would be if you’re no longer there.

He runs as fast as his feet can possibly carry him, not wanting to waste even a single second in getting to you, or give Jae the opportunity to do something terrible. He holds the phone to his ear even as he runs, desperate for a sign that you’re doing okay despite whatever situation you’ve been put in.

“Chan taking you away from me really pissed me off. I like you a lot, you know,” Jae’s voice comes through the phone again, and his tone makes Chan grit his teeth. He wants to rain absolute hell on Jae, make him regret ever laying a single hand on you, but he knows he likely won’t get that chance.

Making sure you’re okay and getting you away is his priority, and as much as he wants to obliterate Jae, it will have to wait until after he takes care of you. No matter what Jae deserves, no matter how much he hates him, you are his one and only priority right now, and he will protect you.

You stare up at the bright blue sky, eyes fixed on the fluffy, passing clouds above you, and you don’t react. You’re limp against the cold, unforgiving wall you’ve been pressed against, completely numb, blocking out everything around you.

You hear Jae’s voice but his words don’t register, his hand on your body but your skin no longer reacts to what it feels. Your vision has blurred from tears in your eyes that haven’t fallen, but you continue to stare upward, making no effort to blink them away.

You had no words to describe the way you felt; it was a devastation so deep that it turned into nothingness, a void. You knew Chan wasn’t coming to help you and you shouldn’t have hoped for it.

All you did was set yourself up for the worst heartbreak of all, an incomparable feeling of betrayal and hopelessness, the solidification that this was your reality now, and you just had to face it instead of holding onto hope that it would be different.

But despite it all, you can’t really blame Chan for not being here. You knew you were weak, and you knew you were a target, but that isn’t Chan’s fault or responsibility. It must be a burden to worry about you all the time, or annoying that you don’t stand up for yourself nearly as much as you should.

Your few moments of strength get reduced to nothing in mere seconds, and you always revert back to the scared person you’ve always been. And no matter how foolish it is to hope for, all you can think about is how you wish Chan was here.

You hoped he’d be here, hoped he’d reassure you. You wanted to feel his gentle embrace and hear his voice, knowing he’d console you with tender words and a soothing tone. And most of all, you really just missed him, missed him more than anything, so, so much.

The way he smiled at you, the way his expression changed when he was embarrassed or being teased, the way he cared for everyone and everything more than you’d ever think a person capable of. Though he certainly did bad things, his kindness towards you was radiant.

You didn’t want to define him by what you saw, because you knew him beyond that. You knew how sweet he is, how caring he is, how much he wanted to help others. He understood the value in a helping hand and offered it freely to anyone who needed it without a second thought.

You couldn’t find it within yourself to feel anything but compassion for him even with how alone you felt from his absence. Your glimpses into his life allowed you to see him for who he was beyond what his appearance would suggest. You knew there was more to him than you even learned, hidden parts of his past, his life, and his feelings that you hadn’t yet uncovered.

So even when he distanced himself from you, you couldn’t hate him. You knew there was a reason, knew there was something underneath that he was scared to share with you. Chan wasn’t the type to leave someone behind nor break a promise, you refused to believe that he was.

You just wished he was here, wished that he’d share his thoughts and feelings with you. Wouldn’t things turn out differently if he had? You wanted to support him as much as he supported you. You wanted to encourage him and cheer him on.

Even with Jae’s words circling around you and his touch against your skin, your mind was consumed by Chan. At this point you felt you were crying more from his loss than from anything Jae was doing to you. He had just become a catalyst for your feelings to burst, his presence feeling almost nonexistent against the yearning you felt for Chan.

You loved him. Truly, and above all else. And you knew that no matter what, it wouldn’t change. Chan’s presence in your life irrevocably changed you; he supported you when no one else had, and you loved his personality and his endearing smile.

You loved the contrast between his tough exterior and his sweet characteristics. He was simultaneously strong and gentle, both cold and warm, sunshine and rain wrapped into one person. And you loved him, for all that he was.

"Get your fucking hands off her!" You hear Chan's voice shout and you blink in confusion, allowing the tears that were stuck to fall. Is he really here? Or are you in so much pain that now your brain is tricking you, trying to comfort you with a lie? You don’t know, but you welcome it all the same, because even if it is just a trick, it’s the best one you’ll ever be given.

Your body barely registers the feeling of Jae's weight being shifted off of you, Chan's voice having a chokehold on your senses. Your gaze shifts from the sky to the right; you see Jae, who has evidently fallen backwards onto the floor, the left side of his face a stark red from what you assume was an impact.

He’s clearly shocked, but the emotion quickly changes into one of pure hatred directed to the presence left of you. You swallow as you shift your gaze to the left, heart squeezing in your chest when you see Chan, more tears welling in your eyes. He's really here? He really came for you?

Chan's fists are clenched, gaze piercing into Jae with disgust and vitriol. He wants to fucking kill him if he's being honest, but he has to do his best to keep a level head for your sake. He has to get you out of here, keep you safe.

"You ever fucking touch her again, I promise you'll regret it," Chan spits at Jae, stepping closer to him and giving one more punch for good measure, assuring he'll stay down and not follow your exit. "Y/N, don't let go," Chan says as he turns to you, taking your hand in his.

The moment still feels surreal to you, but you do as he says, keeping your grip tight as he runs with you, leading you quickly away from Jae. You run for what feels like ages, but you surprisingly don’t feel tired; must be adrenaline coursing through you, or maybe the emotions you feel right now are preventing you from noticing any sort of ache in your legs.

The next thing you know, you’re at his house, with him leading you up to the safety of his room. You collapse to his bed the minute you’re fully inside, trying to catch your breath after all the running as you still hold tightly to his hand.

“I’m just gonna close the door, okay? I’m not leaving,” he says when he notices the way your hand clings to him when he tries to separate, not wanting to let him go. You hesitate, hand trembling as you hold onto his. Everything still feels unreal, like if you let go he’ll vanish from your sight, and you’ll wake up in the same place you were before, with none of this having happened.

You look at his face, taking in his soft but serious expression. You feel the warmth in his hand, see the care in his eyes, and you know– you’re okay now. You don't have to be scared anymore. So you eventually nod as you let go, watching as he closes the bedroom door before returning swiftly to your side.

He examines you carefully, scowling at the disheveled state of your clothes but overall relieved to see no injury. He steps away for just a moment to rifle through his drawers, pulling out a shirt and handing it carefully to you.

“Here, put this on,” he says, and it prompts you to look down at yourself for the first time. The buttons at the top of your blouse are almost entirely undone, with some buttons completely missing and leaving your bra partially exposed.

You frown at the realization that with the buttons missing you won’t be able to button up your blouse again and it’s effectively ruined, but you’re thankful that Chan is offering you something to wear in its place. He turns his back to you to let you change in peace, and he doesn’t turn back around until you’ve made it clear that you’re done.

“Are you okay..?” he asks softly now as he kneels in front you, eyes fixed straight on you. You meet his gaze, lip trembling as you look at him. You feel overwhelmed, confused, relieved.. Where do you even begin? You look down, swallowing the lump in your throat as more emotion threatens to spill out from your eyes.

"I'm sorry," he breaks the silence, and you look up, blinking away the tears in the corners of your eyes. "I– I should've been there for you. I shouldn't have let that happen to you.. I'm sorry," Chan tells you, voice shaky through his apology.

He feels so fucking guilty. He wished so badly he didn't let the voice in his head affect him, that he didn't self-destruct so badly and drag you down with him. "It's okay," you say, reaching your hand out to grab his, and Chan shakes his head, voice breaking as he talks to you.

"It's not okay, I– I broke my promise to you." "You didn't," you say with a small frown and Chan's brows furrow in response. "Yes I did, I–''

You shake your head, cutting him off with your own words, "Do you remember what you told me when we first became friends? When you put your number in my phone?"

Chan swallows as he thinks back to nearly a year ago, when he found you cornered and vulnerable, Jae tormenting you and expecting to get away with it. "I.. told you to call me," he says after a short moment.

"Call me next time, I'll answer. If you call, I'll hear it. I'll come running," you quote him, the words having engraved themselves in your memory. They were probably small to Chan but they meant so much to you. You'd never experienced such kindness before, such an earnest care for your wellbeing, and from someone that was basically a stranger to you.

That was your proof that he was a good person; someone who deserved kindness and appreciation just as much as anyone else. He was kind, caring, and selfless even to a fault. And you knew Chan didn't believe he was, didn't think anything he did was special but it was.

You want to repay all the care he's shown you, in any way you can. "That was your promise," you continue and Chan's breath hitches in his throat at your words, "I called and you came, just like you said you would, so.. You don't have to apologize. Not for that."

He curses, turning his face away from yours with a small chuckle of disbelief. "I should be the one comforting you right now," he says and you smile softly as you respond. "No matter what you might think, I'd never hate you. Never. And I forgive you." You squeeze his hand in reassurance, trying to convey the sincerity of your words.

"I.. don't think I deserve that," he whispers, swallowing as he tries to control the shakiness in his voice. You're forgiving him this easily? He hasn't earned that, doesn’t deserve it.. You should be furious with him, you should hate him. So why don't you? "I can't think of anyone who deserves it more than you, Chan," You say and his lip trembles, eyes squeezing shut as he tries not to embarrass himself by crying in front of you.

He’d grown a thick skin in his life, built his walls sturdy and high– or at least he thought he had. But there you always are, tearing his barriers down so easily, prying open the confines of his heart with the simplest of words and actions. And that's the feeling of love and connection he'd been missing in his life, isn't it? The one he’d be yearning for despite all his doubts and concerns?

All he can think about when he looks at you is how much he hopes you'll always be with him, even if it's just from afar. He wants to protect you, wants to hold you close, wants to laugh with you on good days and support you during the bad.

Even if he never gets the courage to tell you just how much he truly loves you, he'd be happy just being near you. And that’s why he owes it to you to be better, reaffirms his desire, his need, to be honest and open about everything.

“I should.. Be honest with you. About why I was avoiding you,” Chan says after a shaky exhale, and you nod, ready to hear him out. “I was.. Ashamed, when you saw me like that. I never wanted you to see it, you know? I was– I still am, trying to get out of it, and I hoped that when you did know about it, it’d be like.. A thing that happened in my past that you’d never have to worry about. So when you saw it, I just.. I freaked out. I didn’t know what to do, and so I just..”

Oh no. He’s tearing up again, and the empathetic look in your eyes continues to chip at his walls. He almost can't take the way you look at him, the way you hold and squeeze his hand as he speaks, the way your eyes water with his, as if it’s just as emotional for you to experience as it is for him.

It probably is, to be fair; you cared a lot about him, cried a lot because of him, tried countless times to support him even when he was closed off, hesitant and scared to try. He’s still struggling to believe he deserves to receive your compassion and understanding, but he wants to accept it regardless.

He wants to let you care about him, to let you console him, to let you be his comfort, his home. And he’d be that for you, he’d give you back all you gave and more, all to make sure you would never cry because of his actions ever again.

“I just-” Chan tries again, falling short as the words get stuck in his throat. You’re patient though, giving him all the time he needs to collect his thoughts and put the words he wants to say together. “I just.. Everything felt like it was caving in on me."

"When it started I was just a kid desperate for money, you know? No one wants to pay a livable wage to a 16 year old, they think you don’t need it, assume you still got your parents and a cushy bed to go home to. So when the offer came up for me to make some quick, good cash in exchange for a favor, I took it.”

“The favors.. What I’d do depended entirely on the person making the request, but they were never good. Usually it was something the person desperately wanted, but couldn't get their own hands dirty to get, and they look for someone to do it for them under the table. So I got mine dirty in their place, and got paid well doing it. And I truly fucking regret it,” Chan spills it all out for you- the woes of his life, his bad deeds and regrets, all for you to see and judge.

But you don’t judge him; you never would, even if he deserved it. What he said is what you expected– that he wasn’t given a real choice, his circumstances unfair and the world before him too cruel. It hurt your heart to know someone as kind and caring as Chan was forced to do things he hated for money, things that plagued his mind with guilt and tanked his already low self-esteem to new depths.

This wasn’t a case of “ashamed only because he got caught”; his shame and guilt was true, the resentment he felt for himself complexly interwoven with his human nature to survive at all costs. It was a dilemma that no one should have to face, but that he was forced to time and time again. To say it was unfair felt like an understatement, but it was all you had to describe what life had offered him.

And still, you admired him; you hear all the time how the circumstances of one’s life changes them, how good people can only tolerate so much pain before it warps them into someone unrecognizable. But through it all, he was still someone full of compassion, of tenderness, who was doing his best to make amends with himself and make up for what he’s done.

It wasn’t your place to tell anyone to forgive him, nor would you tell anyone affected by his actions that they should. But you hoped that one day Chan could be free of the shackles of that weighed him down, both physically and mentally.

The world doesn’t exist in black and white; good people do bad things, make mistakes, and hurt others, often even without meaning to. What truly makes a person good isn’t whether or not they’ve never hurt someone before– it’s whether or not they’re truly sorry.

No one can exist without making mistakes, without hurting feelings and having theirs hurt in return, the human experience is far too complex and not meant to be perfected. No one is perfect, but imperfection is what allows you to grow.

The things in your life that you regret, that make you feel embarrassed, ashamed, sorry– they make you human. They make you someone worth loving, someone deserving of compassion and empathy.

To be human is to love and forgive, to make mistakes and pick yourself back up and try again to be better, to connect with others and build a life with them that makes you happy and proud to be where you are. And it’s what Chan deserves to have a chance at, just as much as anyone else in the world does.

“You can cry if you need to. I’m here for you, Channie,” you offer, holding your arms out for him to accept a hug if he wants one. It’s a promise, really. A promise that you’ll always be here for him, because he’s the person you love most.

“I might take you up on that,” he says as he accepts your hug, his tone the most light-hearted you’ve heard all evening, but you can tell he’s grateful. He squeezes you close, and you can feel his body start to release all its built up stress as he relaxes against you.

He needed this; needed the reassurance that unconditional love is available to him and obtainable, that happiness was something he was allowed to have, that he wasn’t an irredeemable person doomed to endlessly suffer.

“There’s something else I should tell you,” he says after a few moments, voice soft and a bit timid, his arms still holding you firmly. You hum in acknowledgment, pulling back from his embrace just enough to look at him. “Whenever you’re ready,” you encourage him, and he smiles just a bit before taking a breath to steady himself.

“I love you. And I didn’t want to tell you that until everything was behind me, because I thought you wouldn’t return my feelings if you knew about it. If it was just a part of my past, and not something I was actively involved in anymore, then maybe you could, but– I didn’t think you’d ever love me otherwise, so.. That’s the other reason why I freaked out.. I thought I ruined any chance I had at being with you.”

Oh. Did you hear him right? He loves you? He wanted to be with you? Wants to be with you? Romantically?

“You don’t have to return my feelings, I just.. Wanted you to know, because it played a big part in why I acted like I did to you. You didn’t deserve to be ignored just because I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings, you know?” Chan elaborates, your silence making him increasingly nervous.

God, he hopes you respond soon, even if it's a rejection, because the silence is killing him. “You didn’t ruin your chances,” you finally say, a shy smile on your face that instantly fills Chan with relief. He smiles too, and you settle fully back into his embrace, your head against his chest as your arms hold him close.

You hear the thumping of his heart, the evidence that his feelings for you are indeed real- that he loves you. Maybe this happiness is more than Chan deserves, and maybe you’ll change your mind about him someday, but for now.. He’s happy, and that’s all he could ever ask for.

Chan spent the rest of the evening glued to your side, the two of you only separating from each other if you had to. You canceled your study session with Changbin for the night as well; way too much happened today for you to be able to even remotely focus on school work. He understood completely though, and was more than relieved that you and Chan were talking again.

You had dinner together, all of you, and you finally started to feel like your fractured relationships could be pieced back together. There were still lingering questions, a litany of things to still discuss together, but now that you knew you could, there was a sense of calm you felt; like no matter what happened going forward, everything would be okay because you had each other, and neither of you would let that change again.

Even in a group, your eyes would always unconsciously find their way back to Chan, and he’d smile back at you. Not a big, toothy smile, but a small, soft one– a special one just for you. He loved you, and you felt it; and you knew without a doubt that this is where you belonged. In their group, among the kindest people you’d ever met, with Chan by your side.

When night settled in, he did everything possible to ensure you were comfortable, such as offering you another change of clothes if you wanted it, or to take you home if you’d prefer that. But honestly, you wanted to stay with Chan as long as possible, not just because of your desire to stay at his side, but because of how safe being with him always made you feel.

You always felt secure in his presence, like any problem you had just melted away when he was hugging you or holding your hand. And despite the good turn the day had taken, you could definitely still use his comfort. “Wait,” you called to him when he was going to turn to leave, his plan the same as the other times you stayed the night; he’d be on the couch, while you took the comfort of his bed.

“Did I forget something you need?” Chan asked, quickly surveying the bed; you had plenty of pillows, and you weren’t too in need of blankets given that it was approaching summer now, but he wouldn’t put it outside the realm of possibility to forget something you needed.

“No, it’s not that,” you say, and you can see the gears turning in his head, mild confusion mixed with concern appearing on his features. “What’s wrong then?” he asks carefully, stepping away from the door and back to you.

“I.. want you to stay. Here, with me,” you mutter, shyly looking down at your lap and his face flushes as he tries to blink away the initial shock. “Like.. until you fall asleep, or..?”

“N-No,” you look at him, a bit hesitant to meet his gaze due to your nervousness but doing it anyway, “like.. Sleep with me..?” Fuck. He knows you don’t mean it like that but what the hell, you’re gonna give him a heart attack.

“Are you sure? You won’t be uncomfortable?” Another careful step closer, watching you closely for any sign of hesitation, wanting to make 100% sure that you really want him next to you all night. You nod, scooting to make space for him so he knows you mean it.

He swallows before he crawls in next to you, doing his best to settle in comfortably despite the way his body tenses from laying so close to you. What makes it even worse is that instead of laying with your back facing him like he expected, you’re turned towards him, looking straight at him. He’s never been this close to your face before, and he feels like his heart is going to erupt.

“Don’t need Wolf Chan?” he asks after you’re settled, noting the fact that you don’t have him in your arms as you normally did when you spent the night. “Not when I have you,” you reply, and thank God he turned off the lights before he got into bed with you, because you definitely would’ve seen the blush on his face burn tenfold.

“Chan..” you breathe out, your voice slightly hesitant and tense, and though the room is dark, his eyes have adjusted enough to see you looking at him nervously. “Yeah..?” he asks softly, and carefully you reach out to him, your hand lingering on his arm.

“I want you to promise.. That you’ll keep trying to get away from the people who have you do bad things, and that you won’t do them anymore once you’re out,” you say, eyes still nervous and desperate to find reassurance. That’s exactly what he planned to keep doing anyway, but hearing you say it just reaffirms his choice– he’ll get out of it no matter what, for your sake.

“I promise. You’ll be the first to know too, I promise,” he affirms, and you finally smile, fully believing in him. “I’ll make a promise too! That once everything is settled, I’ll officially be your girlfriend.” Chan chuckles at your statement, pulling you into a hug as he does.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he tells you, smiling at you fondly as he pulls you in closer. “If it’s okay.. Can I kiss you?” he asks softly, and you nod, heart racing in anticipation.

Your first kiss- soft and sweet, his touch light and gentle, your stomach erupting in butterflies. Again, again, and once more, both smiling when you pull back. You’ve never felt so warm, pure elation in your veins as he holds you close.

“I love you,” you tell him as you settle your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and basking in the joy and comfort you feel. “Love you more,” he says, landing a soft kiss on the top of your head, “Goodnight, Y/N, sweet dreams.”

Was it okay for Chan to be this happy? Was it okay to have the things he dreamed of? Regardless of the answer, he was thankful. There were few things in this world that Chan allowed himself to crave selfishly, you being the most primary desire of them all.

Did he deserve you? Maybe not now, but he would someday soon– he’d make sure of that. He’d keep his promises, make sure he became someone worth being around for, someone that you could be proud to say is the person you love.

6 months since the day Chan told you he loved you and made you his girlfriend. Well, maybe not officially one might argue, since he still had a myriad of promises to uphold before then, but as far as Chan is concerned, it counts!

And to the credit of his point, you still acted like a couple most of the time, all sweet touches and bashful glances whenever he was near you. Neither of you could help it, really; how do you resist in that scenario? All he ever wanted to do was shower you with affection any chance he got, and why would you deny the opportunity to experience it?

Chan’s duality also extended towards your romantic relationship, in ways that endlessly endeared and fascinated you. He adapted to the boyfriend role well all things considered, or maybe his kind hearted and compassionate nature made him naturally good at caring for you.

He was extremely open with his love for you, full of soft touches and charming words. That was always in private however; when around his friends he was much less.. Sauve, you could say. He was shy, simply put; his face and ears burning red whenever you kissed him for all to see, bashful giggles leaving his lips whenever you complimented him or told him you loved him so, so much.

You always loved seeing his cute dimples show up whenever he was happy, and knowing you were the person making it happen filled you with more joy than you could express in words. But the biggest display of his duality would always come when he felt the need to protect you– all his shyness would melt away, his desire to keep you safe and close much stronger than anything else.

Whether it was holding your hand as you walked through crowds of people, directing you away from the edge of the sidewalk when you walked together, or kept an arm snuggly around you when belligerent, overconfident men approached you at a party– he was your protector above all else, and he made that clear to everyone.

He was perfect in every way, at least to you. It’s not to say that he was suddenly without fault, and he certainly wasn’t absolved of all the wrong he’d committed in his past, but his growth and earnest effort didn’t deserve to go unrecognized.

He was the sweetest, kindest person you’d ever known, and every day he showed his resilience and determination to make a better name for himself. That alone made him perfect to you.

Chan worked hard to get away from what kept him connected to the dark underside of the city, and it didn’t come without its sacrifices, but he did his best to make it work and come out of it all ready to wash his hands clean of the past.

He made substantially less money now, but it was a fair exchange when you consider that the money he made going forward was through honest means. He agreed to share the burden as well, to accept help and not take on so much responsibility all on his own.

He was used to taking the brunt of everything, shouldering it all for the sake of everyone else around him. He thought that's what made him useful, what made others want to be around him– what use did he have as a person if he wasn’t providing something for them? Chan was a pillar; one who didn’t want to acknowledge that his foundation was inherently broken, and not built on solid enough ground.

Slowly but surely however, he began to see his worth beyond the material, and stopped seeing his friendships as ones that could easily be stripped away from him by superficial means. It’s not that he thought the people in his life were shallow either, it’s just..

When your self-esteem is so low, and all you’ve ever known is pain and sadness, where the people that were supposed to care for you were either gone or didn’t give a shit, it’s hard to see yourself in the same lens that the people who love you do.

It’s nearly impossible to shake doubt once it has its grip on you, hard to convince yourself people mean it when they say they care when you’ve only ever experienced the opposite. You can’t explain what it’s like to have a brain at war with itself, and he imagines that the only ones who would ever truly understand are the people like him, who have experienced it for themselves and truly know what it means to be lonely.

But he had come to realize that he wasn’t as alone as he felt; he had countless good people in his life, and all he had to do was open the door and let them in. It wasn’t easy to unlearn all the things Chan had told himself over the years, and there were still many days where he struggled with his self-worth and having compassion for himself, but the people he loved made it worth trying his hardest.

And you, the person Chan loved most of all, was the catalyst for the change he needed. You pushed him in the right direction, opened his eyes to all the feelings and wants he tried to push away and made him face them head on. He was endlessly grateful to you, and he wanted to show you just how much; which is why now, on your 6 month anniversary (which was actually more like 3, officially speaking), he wanted to do something special.

But what should he get you? What would be good enough? He knew you’d appreciate the sentiment of his gift more than the price tag of it, but he still felt stuck when considering what would be best for you. He could take you out on a date, but what he really wants is the chance to be alone with you. As much as he loves his brothers, and loves that you’re all friends and get along well, if they interrupt or crash his alone time with you one more time he might burst a blood vessel.

Theoretically he could do some research and find somewhere for the two of you to be one on one, but his career change didn’t leave him with much of a travel fund (or a gift fund, for that matter.) He could always ask the guys to make themselves vacant for a night, or to just please let him have some alone time with his girlfriend, but God, he could already picture how they’d tease him for asking. Or worse, ask him what his intentions are and make him embarrassed in the process.

In the end however, Chan swallowed his pride, and asked his brothers kindly but firmly to let him have the house to himself so he could spend his anniversary alone with you. He did get some teasing and embarrassing questions, but overall not as bad as what he anticipated, thankfully.

Did he want to have sex with you? Yes, obviously. Was that the reason he was doing this? Absolutely not. That’s not to say he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened of course, but it was in no way his sole motivation.

He hadn’t done that with you yet, and though he wanted to, he was in no way going to rush you into it. Sure, it drove him a little crazy every time you stayed the night and he had you pressed up against him, but he was a gentleman above all else. He had self control.

What he didn’t know though, is that you were also being driven a little crazy by him. The first time he called you “baby”, your stomach did full on somersaults, and if he called you that before he kissed you? Your heart went absolutely crazy!

Then, the first time he removed his shirt to sleep you nearly had a heart attack. He was so toned, and well, you figured he was from how strong he appeared to be, but actually seeing it with your own eyes made your heart race unbelievably fast.

And then, one night when you were lying in his bed together, your back pressed against him as you watched a movie on his laptop, and he leaned forward to kiss you, but the kiss landed on your neck– oh, it was over for you.

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making an embarrassing sound, face flushing and growing hot. And lately, you came to realize more and more how bad you wanted Chan more intimately. Every time his hand lingered on your waist, every time you felt his body pressed to yours when you hugged, every time you were laying together and he had his arm wrapped around you– you wanted him.

But how do you go about admitting that? You’d never done this sort of thing before, nor had you been faced with such a strong desire to be intimate with someone before being with Chan.

But now, that it was your 6-more-like-3 month anniversary, you thought maybe now might be the right time to talk about it. It might be difficult to do so without getting shy or embarrassed but you definitely wanted to, and to find out if he ever thought about you in the same way.

Much to Chan’s delight and relief, you didn’t seem at all upset that his plans with you involved having a date at home. His gift to you was a cute, new wolf plush; and while it was certainly was no Wolf Chan, he hoped would comfort you when you weren’t with him. You loved it, instantly hugging him and promising that you’d sleep with Wolf Chan Jr. (as you promptly named it) every night that you weren’t with Chan.

He put on a movie that you’d once said was a favorite of yours but that he had never seen, and it warmed your heart that he remembered and wanted to watch it with you. He ordered your favorite take out meal, spent the entire evening cuddled close to you and sweetly reminding you how much he loved you.

When night settled in and you began to grow tired, you changed into your pajamas separately before you went to his room. And still, the question was weighing on you– does he want you? Will you be able to tell him that you'd been giving having sex with him a lot of thought?

And then you walked into the room after finishing changing, and saw that he planned on only sleeping in some sweatpants, you internally lost your mind. No way would you be able to sleep if he was next to you looking that good and while your mind was plagued with less than innocent thoughts.

So when the lights were off, and you were laid next to him, you conjured all your bravery to speak your mind. “Chan.. can I ask you something?” He sat up a bit upon hearing you, finding your eyes in the darkness to give you his full attention.

“Of course, what is it?” He asks and you swallow, taking a moment to steady your voice before you come right out with it. “Do you ever.. think about having sex with me?” Holy fuck. That is the last thing he was expecting to hear.

“W-What? I-I– well–” he sputters nervously, his face growing hot within seconds. “I-I just.. I have so.. I thought I’d ask..?” you mutter shyly, hoping you won’t be faced with a mortifying rejection.

Oh no. That admission makes his brain short circuit for a moment, mind reeling as he processes what you’ve just said. You’ve thought about it? With him? You want to… with him?

“O-Of course I have, I just didn’t know if you wanted to, a-and I didn’t want you to feel pressured if I instigated so..” he trails off, hoping that he didn’t unintentionally make you feel undesired by holding off on touching you more intimately.

Relief rushes through you, happy to be reminded what a gentleman your boyfriend is and to know that he wants you too. “I-In that case.. do you want to tonight?” you ask, and you feel him suck in a breath before he answers.

“I– y-yeah, I want to,” he says, shy but honest as he seeks out your hand, “as long as you’re sure you’re ready.”

“I’m sure, I really want to,” you tell him, squeezing his hand and offering him a smile. Chan gets up from the bed to turn on some dim mood lighting, because he definitely doesn’t want his first time with you to be in complete darkness– he needs to see you.

You sit up, watching him in nervous excitement before he sits next to you. “I’ll– I’ll take care of you so.. Just let me know if I’m going too fast or you need to stop, okay?” he asks and you assure him that the minute you feel even slightly uncomfortable, you’ll let him know.

He smiles, a shy and cute one, guiding you to turn so both of your bodies are facing each other before he lets you know, “I’m going to kiss you now.” His hand rests just below your ear, fingers on your neck and his thumb tracing circles on your cheek as he leans in to kiss you.

The kiss is slow– much slower than all the others you’ve shared with him until now. It’s sensual, each kiss soft and languid, pulling away for only a second before he connects his lips with yours again. You can feel the butterflies flutter in your stomach as he deepens the kiss, his other hand carefully landing on your waist.

Your hands sit awkwardly in your lap at first, not quite sure what you should do with them and what’s okay. But to your surprise, the more Chan kisses you, the more you find yourself naturally following his lead, as if this isn’t something entirely new to you. He tilts you back, carefully guiding your back to the bed, his body finding its place between your legs.

You bring your arms around his neck, urging him to press his body closer to yours and leave no free space between you. You want him as close as possible, to feel his weight on you, to be enveloped by him and feel him all over.

You’re so responsive to his touch that it drives Chan crazy with want; the way your body shivers when he runs his hand down your waist to your hip, the way goosebumps rises on your skin when his fingers linger near your waistband, the way your mouth opens for him when he licks your bottom lip– he loves it all.

A soft sound escapes your throat when he lets his tongue in your mouth, your arms moving from around his neck to let your hands explore his body, running down his chest and feeling his abs under your fingertips.

Feeling his tongue circle around yours, his breath being shared with you and yours with him, it’s enough to make you dizzy already. You’ve never felt a desire like this before, this overwhelming want to have his hands explore every inch of your skin.

When he pulls away from the kiss, wow, he’s breathless just from the sight of you. Your lips red and glossy, your eyes hazy with need, your hair having fallen around you like a halo; his angel– you’re forever his angel.

Chan caresses your lip with his thumb, wanting to stare at you for just a moment longer before he diverts his attention elsewhere. He smiles when you kiss his thumb, finding the action cute (and hot if he’s being honest, but he’ll explore that thought later.)

He lowers his head back down to you, giving you one more kiss before he leans towards your neck, kissing just under your ear before trailing hot, open mouthed kisses slowly down the expanse of your jaw and to your neck.

Some of them tickle, making you giggle softly in response, but he knows he’s found the right spot when instead of giggling, you gasp, eyes fluttering closed as you tilt your head to the side, allowing him to have more access to your sweet spot.

You can feel him smile against your skin before he resumes his wet kisses and licks, latching his mouth to the spot that makes you react the most and sucking gently. The noises that leave you are intoxicating and addictive, soft breathy little moans that almost get completely drowned out by the sound his kisses leave on your dampening skin.

His hands travel to the hem of your shirt, and he separates from your neck, looking at you for any sign that you want him to stop before he begins to pull it up. You look shy, maybe a little nervous, but not at all hesitant or scared of his touch. You welcome it, letting him strip you of your top and toss it to the floor.

You’re not wearing a bra, you never do when you go to bed, and while Chan suspected that to be the case, he never asked or commented on it, because admitting that he noticed a difference would also mean admitting that he’d look at your chest. But now, he'll be able to do so freely, to stare at you openly (and hopefully not be too embarrassed about it.)

The way he stares in awe of you makes you blush, and when he calls you beautiful on top of it, you almost want to cover your face from how shy you feel. He can’t compliment you while you’re exposed to him like this, you don’t think your heart can take it. Your reaction makes him smile, but he hopes you know that he means it; Chan isn’t saying you're beautiful just to say it, you truly are– the most beautiful person he’s ever met, both body and soul.

“Is this okay?” he asks, hands lingering patiently near your breasts, not wanting to touch them until you give him clearly spoken permission. You nod, but he still hesitates until you say it, which you simultaneously appreciate but feel extremely embarrassed from. Chan rewards you with a kiss, another long one meant to ease away the embarrassment and put your focus entirely on enjoying the moment.

Your breath hitches when he finally touches your breasts, your body quivering when his calloused thumbs brush over your nipples. He lingers on every kiss so sweetly, every touch of your body slow and careful, not just for your comfort but also to commit it to memory, to ensure that he always remembers what his first time with you was like. He kisses down your neck again, and you watch with bated breath as he draws closer to your chest.

Chan takes his time fondling your breasts as he covers them in kisses, squeezing gently and listening intently to all the sounds he draws from you. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and spending some time softly sucking before giving the other an equal amount of attention.

The more attention he showers your breasts with, the wetter you become, your panties becoming increasingly drenched with your arousal. If he wasn’t between your legs, you’d be pressing them together in a desperate attempt to gain some relief, your pussy aching to be touched but at the same time wanting to let Chan take his time making you feel good.

He doesn’t separate from your chest until he’s satisfied, starting to trail kisses down your stomach, stopping to look up at you once he’s at the waistband of your shorts. “Still okay?” he asks and you nod (perhaps a bit too eagerly), lifting your hips up so he can easily pull your clothes down your legs.

He hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, hands slightly trembling as he pulls them down your thighs and then off your legs, discarding them off to the floor with your top. Now that he sees you fully exposed to him, Chan feels like his heart is going to beat out of his chest, his cock unceremoniously twitching as he stares at your body.

You can see how hard it’s grown from beneath his sweatpants, and God, you can already tell it’s big. You sit up, this time being the one to initiate a kiss as you tug at Chan’s sweatpants, not so subtly asking him to help you take them off.

It’s his turn to feel shy, face starting to burn to the tips of his ears as he separates from you to remove them more easily. The way you attentively watch him certainly doesn’t help, nor the way you overtly stare at his cock when it’s freed from his clothing.

You look back to his face, and though he’s feeling shy, he offers you a smile, one that you return just as timidly. Another kiss before you lay back again, your heart racing as you watch him resume his earlier path, placing kisses to the soft expanse of your skin. From your cute tummy down to your thighs, it’s driving you crazy how close his face has gotten to your core without having given it any attention yet.

He carefully spreads your legs further apart, swallowing when your pussy comes entirely into his view. So cute and dripping wet, all for him, because of him– God, you’re perfect. As he’s done with every inch of your body up to this point, his first course of action is to kiss. Your hips jolt when he kisses your clit, and when he flattens his tongue and licks, oh, you’re in heaven.

You’ve never felt anything as good as this, your entire body shuddering as you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. The slow pace he starts with drives you wild, taking his time familiarizing himself with the way you taste, the motions you like, and indulging in the pretty sound of your whimpers and moans.

Chan picks up the pace when he finds what you like, alternating from pushing his tongue as deep into your hole as it can go and then back to your clit. He uses his hands to keep your legs spread, can feel the way they tremble and twitch as your orgasm grows closer.

Your hands clutch at his bedsheet, desperate mewls growing in volume as the knot in your stomach builds. He directs all of his attention to your clit, keeping his pace steady as he squeezes your thighs in his hands, his eyes closed as he focuses entirely on getting you to cum all over his tongue.

He can’t help but groan when your hands move to his head, your fingers tangling in his hair and tugging just enough to cause a slight sting. “C-Close, so close-” you warn and he hums, ready and eager to taste your release.

You cum with a choked cry, your entire body trembling as the blinding white pleasure courses through your veins. Your heart pounds, chest heaving as you try to collect your breath, mind hazy from your post-orgasm bliss.

You don’t even register that Chan has moved from his spot between your legs until he kisses you, tasting yourself on his tongue bringing you back to reality. Seeing you like this not only fills Chan with an insane amount of want, but also with pride, knowing that he’s the reason you’re in this state.

“Baby,” he calls to you, urging you to look at him. His face flushes when you do, cause fuck, you’re so pretty like this, but no use getting shy again now. “I– I want to get you ready to take me, i-is that okay?” Chan hates that he stutters a bit while asking, but he can’t help it when he’s this worked up and you’re laying there looking pretty beyond words.

“Y-Yeah, please,” you practically beg, and fuck, he’s weak for that. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to resist giving you whatever you want if you make begging like that a habit of yours. He carefully moves from between your legs to be next to you, kissing you sweetly as he rubs his fingers between your folds.

You can feel his erection pressing against your thigh, hard and leaking, his pre-cum smearing on the skin it touches. “C-Channie–” you call and he immediately comes to stop, looking at you in concern. “What’s wrong, angel? Change your mind?” he asks, brows furrowing in worry.

You quickly shake your head, trying to dispel any concern before you speak up again, “I want- Can I touch you too?” You can feel his cock twitch from your question, his face flaring and ears burning.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he says, adjusting his position enough for his cock to be within reach of your hand. He can’t help but shudder and gasp when you bring your fingers to his flushed tip, coating your fingers in pre-cum and spreading it down the length of his shaft.

Your hand is so much softer than his, so warm, and fingers barely able to wrap fully around due to how thick he is. He can’t help but get lost in watching for a moment, eyes transfixed on the way your hand slowly moves up and down. You look at Chan, watching the way his expression changes as he bites his lip– how does he look so gorgeous and sexy at once?

Regaining his focus, he prods at your hole with his fingers before he slips the middle one inside. God, you’re so warm and wet and tight, that the thought alone of being inside you is enough to make Chan want to cum. He can’t wait to fuck you, to feel you squeezing him, and to find out what noises you’ll make when his cock is touching the deepest parts of you.

But first, he needs to prep you well– so he starts by moving his finger in and out slowly and carefully until he’s sure you can take another. You whimper when he adds a second finger, your motions on his cock stopping for just a moment as you adjust to the new sensation you’re feeling. His fingers are much longer and thicker than your own, and it sends ripples of pleasure throughout your body with every move they make.

You match the pace of your hand with that of his fingers, mirroring the slow movements, but adding pressure by squeezing your hand around him. When he picks up his pace, you do as well, and your stomach flips when he curses under his breath and groans.

You’re mesmerized when his head falls back for a moment, his breathing becoming heavier and his stomach and thighs flexing from the pleasure he feels. But when his fingers curl, your concentration breaks, the spot he touches making you see stars as loud a moan falls from your lips.

It feels so good you almost can’t breathe, head falling back against the pillows and your eyes rolling back as he prods it over and over again. Your pace on his cock loses its rhythm, trying your best to keep steady through the immense pleasure you feel but failing at the task miserably.

Chan doesn’t mind in the slightest– in fact, he welcomes it, because he doesn’t want to cum before he's had the chance to be inside you. He brings his thumb to your clit, applying pressure as he draws circles over it, and that’s enough to make you entirely crumble. “Oh my god–” you gasp, your hand falling away from his cock as you succumb to what he gives you.

You’re cumming before you can even really process it, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body trembles. He doesn’t stop until he’s sure you’ve come down from the high, carefully sliding his fingers out of you and licking them clean.

Your eyes are closed, breath shaky as your heart pounds, and you feel so good. Chan carefully pushes the hair stuck on your face with sweat away, and you smile at him when you open your eyes. “Felt good, huh?” he asks with a shy smile of his own, “Do you still want to keep going? Not too tired?”

“Wanna keep going, wanna feel you inside me,” you answer, and you can feel him twitch against your thigh again, evidently excited by your words. He stands from the bed to rifle through his nightstand, pulling a condom from the drawer as you settle comfortably in the middle of the bed.

Chan takes his place between your legs, and you watch as he opens the package and rolls the condom on with no trouble (despite how much his hands are trembling from the anticipation.) He takes his cock in his hand, lining himself up with your entrance and then looking back to your face.

“You’re still sure?” he asks, and you nod without hesitation. “Mhm, I love you so much Channie, wanna do this with you and only you,” you assure him, and wow, does that make him positively melt.

“Such an angel,” he tells you before he kisses you, happy beyond words, “my angel.” He slides inside with relative ease given how slick you are, the only resistance he meets being from how tight you still are even after having gotten his fingers.

He watches you the entire time, stopping when he notices you wince, and only resuming his slow push when your body starts to release its tension. Chan kisses you, holds your hand and lets you squeeze as hard you need, not moving a single inch until you’re ready for it. To your surprise, it doesn’t take all that long for you to adjust to the stretch, and soon enough you find yourself eager for stimulation.

You don’t verbally say it, but Chan can tell you’re ready by the pleasured whimper that pours into your kiss when you feel him twitch inside, and how you unconsciously move your hips to try and seek the friction you crave. He starts slow, for his sake as much as yours, because he’ll cum much sooner than he wishes to otherwise.

He’s still kissing you, swallowing your soft moans and letting you consume his low groans. It takes him a moment to find your spot with just his cock, but he can tell he’s got it when you loudly gasp and clench tightly around him.

He moves his hands to your hips and then to your legs, holding them in his hands and using them for leverage when he starts to pick up his pace. Your hands are on his face, holding him close as you continue to kiss and muffle each other’s noises that are beginning to grow in volume. You’re glad Chan asked the guys to leave for the night, because with how good it feels you couldn’t possibly keep your voice down, even if you wanted to.

“Fuck, baby, feel so good, ‘m gonna cum,” Chan tells you between breathy groans and your stomach flips, eager to find out what he looks and sounds like when he’s cumming inside you. He brings two fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick circles to ensure you cum again too and that he doesn’t leave you wanting. You whine, sensitive from all the attention you’ve received but still feeling way too good to ask him to stop.

“Cum again for me, please angel, need you to so bad, please-” Oh, that really does it for you. You cum hard, making a mess of his fingers as you do, clutching tightly to his arms as your head falls back. Chan’s high follows close behind, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chases it, his cum spurting into the condom in quick bursts.

The two of you stay like that for a time, breathing heavily as you come down from your highs together. Chan pulls out slowly once he’s caught his breath, quickly removing the condom and tying it off, disposing of it in the trash can at the foot of his bed before he lays down next to you.

You immediately turn towards him, wrapping your arm around him and pulling him into a hug. “We should get cleaned up but.. Wanna cuddle first,” you say and Chan smiles, always finding it so cute when you’re clingy towards him, and even more so now after an intimate moment.

He rubs soothing circles on your back and kisses the top of your head, watching you fondly as you yawn and snuggle as close to him as you can. “Baby, you’re gonna fall asleep if we stay like this too long. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get too cozy, yeah?” Chan reasons and you pout, knowing he’s right but not wanting to leave the comfortable, blissful place you’re in. He chuckles when you look at him with that pout, so adorable and cute in his eyes.

“C’mon, won’t take long. And we’ll go straight to bed as soon as we’re done, promise,” he tries again and you reluctantly agree, begrudgingly tearing yourself away from your boyfriend's warm embrace.

Your legs are a bit wobbly, so Chan helps you stabilize yourself, walks you to the bathroom and helps you in the shower. He takes his time to dry you off well and get you dressed in fresh clothes, and helps you back into bed.

You yawn and snuggle into Chan as soon he’s settled next to you, eyes heavy and body beyond exhausted. You’re a little sore, but so happy, and Chan took such good care of you that you feel relaxed despite the aches.

He holds you close, whispering a soft ‘I love you’, smiling when you sleepily mumble it back. He’s so lucky to have you, so blessed to have you here in his arms, loving him in both his good moments and his bad, never giving up on him even when you likely should have.

You saw how flawed of a person he was and loved him regardless, knew of his mistakes and regrets and supported him anyway, encouraging him every step of the way on his road to change. There were so many times he felt he didn’t deserve the love and compassion he received, so many times he felt worthless and miserable, and you graciously helped him to see that he was a person worth more than he gave himself credit for.

It was still hard at times to have love and compassion for himself, to extend himself the care he freely offered to others, to believe it’s what he deserved, but he’d never stop trying. Until the day came where he could confidently say he loves himself, that he believes in his heart that he’s not someone worthless, he’ll keep trying.

And you’ll be there, holding his hand, giving him the safe space he needs to cry and to feel, your unconditional love giving him the reassurance and hope he needs to live a life he can be proud of– a life he promises to always share with you.

#skz x reader #bang chan x reader #skz smut #bang chan smut #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz fluff #skz angst #literally posting this after 4am fdsgsdfg GOOD NIGHT #mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune

484 notes · View notes

skzdust · 6 months ago

Text

Room 514

Part 1

This fic is the result of 1. Me going on a road trip and 2. A poll I did on here! I have the trip back coming up in a few days so I might do another poll to decide what I write on the way back lol!

Summary: You’re moving into a new suite halfway through your sophomore year at Stay University, populated by three guys: Jisung, Changbin, and Bang Chan. You meet their friends and quickly become a part of their group, but you find yourself wanting more with Jisung…

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Includes: slow burn (if I have the patience to write it slow lol), college au, roommates, besties with skz, gender neutral reader (if smut happens reader will be afab)

Word count: 1.3k

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Masterlist

——-

The lock to room 514 beeped, its LED turning green, and you moved your phone away. You took a breath and turned the handle.

You didn’t need to worry. The suite’s living room was empty. The decoration gave you hope, though; it was neat and decorated mostly in shades of blue, with a sunny yellow cover on the couch. You hoped it was like this all the time and not just because you were moving in today.

The suite had four single bedrooms, two half bathrooms, one shower, and a living room with a mini-fridge and microwave. You’d been living in a different hall just a few days ago, sharing a room with another girl, Catherine. She’d been awful ever since you’d walked in on her cheating on her boyfriend with another guy, spreading rumors and turning all your friends against you. You’d pleaded with your RA for a single room, and she’d helped you find a suite in another hall. It was a room with three guys, which made you a little anxious, but you’d jumped at the chance nonetheless.

“Hello?” You said, a little louder than you usually would speak.

Nothing.

You found room D, your room, in the hallway to the left. Room C, next door, had a handwritten sign beside the “C”: “Han Jisung.”

One of your roommates. You knew the others were named Changbin and Bang Chan, but you hadn’t met any of the three.

You pressed your phone to the lock on room D and walked in.

The room was small and bare, but you smiled at the fact that you’d have your own space at all. A lofted bed with plenty of storage space underneath was against the back wall, next to a desk and chair, and a tall chest of drawers was beside the closet.

You climbed up on the bed to look out the window. You had a rather ugly view of the parking lot, but the window faced South, so at least you’d get plenty of light.

There was a loud knock behind you.

You whirled around, almost falling off the bed. Potentially the most attractive man you’d ever seen in real life was leaning in your doorway, a grin on his face. “You must be y/n!”

“Yeah, that’s… me.” You said with a little laugh. “And you’re…?”

“Jisung.” His smile grew. “Han Jisung.”

You hopped off the bed. “Jisung. You’re next door!”

“Yeah! Me and Changbin and Bang Chan are excited to have another roommate, it’s been just the three of us for a while.”

“Well, I’m kind of escaping a situation at the moment, so I’m looking forward to a fresh start, too.” You tried not to let your thoughts of Catherine make you angry.

“Well, you’re always welcome to hang out with us.”

“Thanks, that’s nice of you.”

“Actually, we’re having some people over tonight.” He raised his eyebrows. “Chill with us, if you don’t have to study or anything. We’re gonna watch Love Island.”

You grinned. “Love Island? Seriously?”

“How can you not love stupid reality TV with a bunch of hot people?” Jisung held his hands up. “Just saying, just saying. We’re probably gonna order pizza, too, if that helps convince you.”

“Not judging, just wasn’t expecting it.” You shrugged. “But yeah, I don’t have anything going on tonight, that sounds fun!”

“Sounds good. Do you need any help moving stuff in?”

“I think I’ve got it.” You waved your hand. “Just some stuff in the hallway.”

He nodded. “Let me know if you want help.”

“I will.”

He gave a lazy salute. “See you tonight!” He pushed off the doorway and twirled into the hall, and you heard his door click shut.

You squeezed your eyes shut, sending up a silent prayer. Please, please, please let him be single.

—

You stood in the center of the room, doing a little circle and judging it cute enough to be finished.

You’d been unpacking and decorating for a few hours, but the sounds of people in the living room had started about an hour ago, so you’d slowed down. You wanted to see Jisung again, but you were a bit anxious to meet his friends, as well as your other two roommates.

But there were only so many times you could rearrange your books or organize your clothes, and you knew it was a good idea to go out and join the party.

You checked your reflection in the mirror on the inside of the closet door, smoothing your hair, and left your room.

There were eight people in the living room of the suite, the only one you recognized being Jisung. And… wait, was that the guy you’d been on a project with in music technology last year? Hwang Hyunjin?

“Y/n!” Jisung jumped up from the couch when he saw you, beaming. “Guys, this is our new roommate!”

“Y/n?” The guy you were 99% sure was Hyunjin said, tilting his head. “I know you! We did a project together.”

“Yeah! I remember that! It’s Hyunjin, right?”

He smiled softly. “Yeah, Hyunjin. Nice to meet you again!”

You tried to remember back to the project. You’d loved the class, and you remembered the project going well. Hyunjin had been great to work with, doing his share of the planning and the legwork. You’d found him cute then, too, but freshman year you’d been even more timid, and you hadn’t made a move. You were kind of glad for that now, though.

Because Jisung was walking across the room to you, and standing right next to you, and you almost missed what he started to say because you could smell whatever cologne he used, and it smelled good.

“Okay, around the room we have...” He pointed at each of the guys. “Seungmin, Minho, Jeongin, you know Hyunjin, Felix, Bang Chan, he’s one of our roommates, and Changbin, he’s our other roommate.” He pointed to himself. “And you know me. Jisung.”

You nodded at each name, doing your best to match them to faces. “Got it. I’m decent with names, so I’ll do my best.”

Jisung bumped your shoulder, and you giggled. “I’m sure you’ve got it.” He made a shooing motion at Seungmin, who was sitting on the floor. “Pizza’s behind Seungmin.”

“What kind?”

“There’s pepperoni and there’s cheese.” Seungmin picked up a plate. “Here, I can grab you a slice, what do you want?”

“Just a slice of cheese, thanks.”

Seungmin handed Jisung the plate, and he made a little mock bow before holding it out to you. You smiled, taking it. “Thank you, butler.”

“Of course, my liege.” He winked, and a cloud of butterflies took flight in your chest.

“Nice to meet you, y/n!” Changbin leaned over the back of his chair and extended his hand. You shook it.

“Changbin, right?”

“Mhm. Roommates!”

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded.

“He sings a lot. You can tell him to shut up if you need to.” Bang Chan grinned. “I’m Bang Chan, I’m your other roommate.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. I don’t mind singing.”

“I mean, he has a decent enough voice, but it’s… frequent.” Jisung widened his eyes as he nodded. “Quite frequent.”

“Oh, come on.” Changbin rolled his eyes. “You all should be honored that you get to hear my singing. I’m gonna be recognized for my talent someday!”

“He also raps.” Jeongin added. “I’m sure you’ll hear that, too.”

“I’m an even better of a rapper than I am a singer!” He pointed around the room. “Feel honored!”

Felix held a hand to his chest. “We all feel so honored. All hail the most beautiful voice, Changbin!”

“That’s more like it!”

You laughed with the rest of them. This group felt more comfortable than you’d ever felt with your old friends, and you couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving in with Changbin, Bang Chan, and Jisung was meant to be.

#stray kids #hyunjin #han #bang chan #felix #changbin #seungmin #i.n #lee know #Han x reader #han jisung x reader #Han jisung #stray kids fic #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #skzdust writes #room 514

166 notes · View notes

dontaskmemybias · 12 days ago

Text

Pretty

Pairing: Idol!Lee Know x afab Ninth Member!reader Request: Yes Theme: Friends to Lovers Contains: Anxiety, Hurt/comfort, jealousy, teeny angst if you squint. There is no smut in this part, its all buildup lmao sorry but there will be smut in the next part. Word Count: 10k+ Note: This is a work of fiction and does not portray any of the members irl. I decided to go with a friends to lovers slow burn since you wanted a longer fic anon and I figured I could do a bit more like this, and I was correct, I started writing and just like never stopped? This has become a behemoth of a story and I'll be releasing it in two parts because damn. I know you requested this like a year ago but life happened hard, hopefully you still get to read it.

Author's Personal Note: This week has been awful. I can't describe how tired and scared I have been since Tuesday morning. I haven't written in almost a year because my motivation just was not there and I don't know if it was the existential dread or the overwhelming urge to just be in control of some narrative that drove me to start writing this absolute beast of a story but here we are. Enjoy it, don't, I don't really care either way.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Snow blankets the surrounding hills as you burrow yourself further into your winter puffer. The boys are all running around the field, throwing snowballs at each other and cackling wildly. You chuckle to yourself seeing their childlike display. You have all gathered to film SKZCode "Winter is Coming" (you and the boys had been binge watching Game of Thrones in your free time and decided to take a little inspiration from it for the title) You let out a laugh when you see Changbin nail Hyunjin in the back of the head with a snowball and in true Jinnie fashion Hyunjin dramatically flails on the ground until Changbin comes over to comfort him.

You had been through so much with these eight boys, late nights in the studio recording your parts until they were perfect, early mornings in the dance studio drilling choreography until it was perfect, you loved it all, but moments like these when you could all let loose and have some fun? Those were your favorites.

Being the only woman in the group was a bit of a challenge in some ways, but it was nice having eight guys to look out for you in every aspect of life. You had formed a bond with these guys over the years, each friendship blossoming and holding something unique.

If you ever needed a shoulder to cry on, you knew you could turn to your leader Bang Chan and he wouldn't just comfort you, he would help you figure out what to do. Only one year your senior and yet his wisdom was that of an 85 year old war vet. Chan was your rock.

Need workout tips or someone to belt girl group songs with? Changbin was your man. He was always willing to help you stay healthy, whether that be helping you with your fitness routine, or working on your mental health. Changbin was there for you when antis said you looked too fat and cheered you up all night. He was the ultimate hype man.

Felix was often in your dorm baking with you when you were stressed (stress baking is both a blessing and a curse). He would massage your shoulders when you got too tense. He really was the sunshine in your life.

Whenever you wanted to try something new—a restaurant, an online game, anything at all—Seungmin would join you. He would say he had been meaning to go there or try that anyway, and this just gave him an excuse, but you knew he did it, so you didn't ever feel lonely. He was like the little brother you never had.

You and Hyunjin bonded over your love for art. The two of you had done all the cheesy trends where you paint for ten minutes then swap paintings until they are both finished (it ended up with an abomination with a cat head and a wolf body, you named it Lee Bang after Felix, Bang Chan, and Lee Know, you both laughed so hard you were in tears) you also would often sketch one another to get better at portraits. Time spent with Hyunjin was always amazing.

Anytime you had a fashion emergency you knew you could count on Innie. He would roast your outfits when they were too "millennial sheik" as he would say, but then immediately assist. He was also great to couch rot and watch movies with on your off days. He was basically your bestie.

Anytime you were feeling down and you just really needed a good laugh you knew that you could turn to Jisung. You and Jisung had bonded very hard very early on because you both suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. The two of you had helped each other through so many at this point it was basically second nature. When you ugly sob in front of someone and they trust you enough to do it in return you know it's a friendship built to last. You and Jisung were basically soulmates.

Finally there was Minho. Your relationship with Minho was… interesting, to say the least. You grew close with him simply because he was your soulmate's soulmate. Anywhere Minho went, Jisung went, and anywhere Jisung went, you went. So the three of you grew very close very fast. Minho's sense of humor perfectly matched yours and the two of you would often bicker back and forth simply because it was fun and it often drove the other members crazy. The bickering started innocently enough, however, a few months ago something changed. The bickering you loved became… borderline flirty? The other members often referred to you both as a married couple and would call Jisung your son. It was all in good fun and it really didn't bother you, but every time someone outside the group made the same jokes, Minho would get this look on his face. You couldn't quite place the emotion behind it, but you recently found yourself thinking about it for much too long.

You are brought back to the present from your ruminating when something wet and cold hits the back of your head followed by maniacal laughter.

"Minnie, that was evil!" You try to sound mad but you can't hide the giggles that escape you at the younger boys' antics. He just sticks his tongue out as you and laughs while running away.

You are fully laughing now, trying to shake the snow out of your hair when you feel warm arms wrap around you from behind.

"You're shivering little moon bear" Minho's breathy chuckle ruffles your hair and you laugh.

Shuffling in his arms to face him you look up and pout. "It's cold out! Of course I'm shivering Min. And why do you insist on referring to me by my SKZOO?"

"Because I find the little pout you do every time I do adorable." He smirks down at you and you think the flush adorning your ears is no longer just from the cold.

"YOH LOVEBIRDS GET OVER HERE IT'S TIME TO FILM!" Changbin's voice rings out over the set and you flinch a little which causes Minho to hold you just a bit tighter.

"Come on moon bear, time to film." He gently whispers to you while tucking you under his arm and leading you toward the group.

~✨~

Filming was going great! Sledding with a pitcher of water was pretty hard but you had loads of fun and managed not to come in last. When it came to the balloon popping portion Minho decided to come behind you like he had before filming and wrap his arms around you.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear "You looked cold again little moon bear." You chuckled when he began swaying you both side to side.

"You're going to start a dating rumor if you keep this up Min." You whispered back.

"Let people talk, how can I just stand by while my favorite girl freezes?" Your breath hitched a little at the comment, whispered so close to your ear you could almost feel his lips on your skin.

"Fair, but you have to deal with the staff if it becomes a problem." You sighed out, settling into his warm arms.

He was glued to you for the rest of the shoot.

~✨~

After getting home from the very fun, very cold, shoot, you decided to take a nice long hot shower and then maybe order some delivery when you got out.

You took your time in the shower until you were basically out of hot water then wrapped yourself in your fluffiest towel and went to the kitchen for some water. Your heart almost fell out of your ass and you let out a shriek when you walked by your living room and saw two people sitting on your couch.

"Y/NNIE My eardrums! Why did you have to scream so loud?" Jisung wailed from his spot on the couch.

"Yeah you baby it's just us damn." Minho scoffed. They both froze when they turned and saw you in just a towel, Minho's ears turning a fiery red and Jisung's eyes going wide. They both quickly looked away and started stammering out apologies, not realizing your state of dress. You let out a giggle at their reactions.

"Chill guys, you act like you've never seen a girl in a towel before, you just scared the shit out of me because I didn't know you were coming." They both let out a little laugh at that and relaxed a bit into the couch, still looking anywhere other than at your towel-clad form.

"Sorry, we wanted to surprise you with Kimchi Jjigae since you were so cold today and maybe watch some movies?" Jisung said quietly.

"You brought food? Ignore my previous complaints, Ji, Min, you are both angels who could do no wrong and I love you with all my heart! Let me put some clothes on then we can watch whatever you want yeah?"

"Yeah" "Sounds good" The boys yelled back as you went to your room to change.

You all spent the rest of the night tangled up on the couch watching shitty rom-coms

~✨~

The next morning after dance practice you get home and shower then realize that you're finally going to have a morning free the next day. Scrolling through your phone looking for things to do you come across a poster for the newest horror flick that's showing tonight. You screenshot it and drop it into the group chat titled "SoulBros" Jisung's idea.

SoulBros:

JiJi😘🥰😂: Oh hell no! That movie looks way too scary! Sorry love ur on ur own.

Min😈😘😜: Sorry I promised Lix I would help him with the new choreo.

🌝Bear: You both suck :/ Guess I'll go alone.

JiJi😘🥰😂: Noona ur so old just use emojis 😑

You laugh at Ji's dig; it is accurate. You guess it's time to pull out the big guns. You dial the number on your phone, and on the third ring, it picks up.

"Yes old lady?" You scoff at his (fake) disrespect.

"Minnie, I want to go see the new horror movie tonight because we have a free morning tomorrow but Ji is too scared to come and Minho is busy. Should I go alone?" You bite back your smile knowing what he is going to say.

Seungmin's voice cracks a bit over the phone call and you hear sheets rustling. "That new one about the witch in the woods? I've actually been wanting to see that too but everyone's too scared to come with me. I could go with you if you want?" You smile to yourself, you knew he wouldn't let you go to the movies alone, let alone to a horror film.

~✨~

"That was INSANE! I had no idea he had a brother the whole time!" You are bouncing up and down, filled with adrenaline from the movie.

"Yeah, that was a twist I actually didn't see coming. Pretty crazy." Seungmin is acting all calm but you know he enjoyed the movie as well.

"Hey Minnie, thanks for coming with me. I had a really fun time!" You say while ruffling his hair.

"Yeah yeah, like I said, I wanted to see it too."

"Hey wanna go grab some food before we go home? There's this hot pot spot nearby I've been dying to try!" You look at him with puppy-dog eyes and he lets out a sigh.

"Yeah I'm pretty hungry, and hot pot does sound amazing right about now."

~✨~

After stuffing your faces at the new hot pot place you finally made your way back home. Walking in you let out a long satisfied sigh and take off your shoes.

"Someone's home late." You nearly jump out of your skin at the grumbly voice coming from your living room.

"Jesus Fuck Min one of these days you're gonna give me a heart attack!" You yell out while grabbing a blanket from your armchair and bringing it to the couch where you unceremoniously plop down next to Minho who acts annoyed at your proximity but is quick to wrap an arm around you.

"Where were you? I've been here for like thirty minutes." He almost sounds… worried? Angry? You can't place it.

"Oh I just went to see that movie I texted you and Ji about then went and got some hot pot."

"Alone?"

"Oh no, Minnie came with me. Said he had been wanting to see the movie too but you know that kid, he just doesn't like me doing things alone." Minho grumbles something that you can't quite make out but then squeezes you to his side and turns on the TV.

"What was that Min?"

"I would've gone with you." He looks you dead in the eyes when he says it. You can't figure it out but it almost seems like he's mad at you?

"Well sorry Min, you said you were busy and I didn't know you wanted to see the movie too, I'd see it again if you wanted to go see it?" You try smiling at him to quell whatever was going on with him and it seems to work because he cracks a tiny smile and just pulls you closer to him while putting on the first shitty rom-com he sees.

~✨~

It was finally time for the next SKZCode! The staff didn't tell anyone what these episodes would be about but said you would all have fun.

You walked into the studio and saw a giant game board and war flashbacks of the last time you all played monopoly flashed through your mind. Images of Hyunjin screaming at Seungmin for putting a hotel on the most expensive rent on the board and Seungmin's shit-eating grin flashed through your mind.

The staff quickly explained the game and everyone got super excited. SoulRACHA was glued together any chance you got as per usual and everything was going great… until they announced the heart fluttering game.

Now, you wouldn't say your heart fluttered easily, if Felix had tried to get your heart racing you're sure you would be fine. Changbin? Piece of cake. Of course, you've never been very lucky.

You get paired with Minho. The expert at getting you worked up. (When you bicker! Get your mind out of the gutter.)

"Will you be able to hear what we say?" Minho tries to look innocent as he asks the question, but you can already feel the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Only if you speak loudly, we decided it would be more fun if STAY can't hear what you whisper to each other." One of the staff quickly explains.

Minho's grin turns sinister and a single thought crosses your mind.

I am so fucked.

Minho stalks toward you once the camera starts rolling and comes around behind you to wrap his arms around you like always. You can handle this, this is normal for you two. Your heart rate stays the same.

You feel him lean in until his lips are almost touching your ear.

"Hey there, little moon bear. This skirt you wore today is very pretty, did you wear it for STAY or for me?" He whispers so only you can hear. He is so close to you that you feel his breath tickling your ear.

The ears wiggle a little bit then settle. You can do this Y/N, Pull it together.

Minho notices and chuckles, pulling you tighter against him.

"I'm sure your pretty skirt would look even better with someone's hands underneath it."

You let out a gasp and the guys go wild. You know STAY's are going to have a field day with this footage. You are now squirming in Minho's tight grip, trying to escape his now searing hands, a burning flush spreading across your face.

Minho almost sounds surprised when he breathes out "Shit."

You think about his words and his arms wrapped around you all night.

~✨~

MinBear has become your official ship name from STAY's, after Minho's stunt during the last SKZCode STAY have been posting online about the possibility of you two dating.

You, Minho, and Jisung just laugh about it whenever it gets brought up and everything seems to go back to normal between you and Minho.

If you dream about him whispering those words in your ear at night, well that's just nobody's business.

~✨~

During the next SKZCode the staff decides to play into STAY's delusions and make you and Minho play husband and wife. The catch? Minho is the wife.

~✨~

"HAHAHA HYUNG, NOONA, WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?!" Innie's voice carries across the room when you and Minho walk into the room. Minho is in the brown wig from SKZ Family, a gaudy pink dress with far too many ruffles, and ballet flats with little pink bows on them while you are wearing a wig with a receding hairline (bye bye idol image), a flannel shirt, and blue jeans. The boys all burst out laughing when you two strike a pose and show off your "wedding rings" (they are blue raspberry ring pops).

"Hello everyone! I am Joe and this is my second wife Mindy!" You smile at the group and they all start howling with laughter one again.

You both decided to play into the roles WAY too much to hopefully show STAY that you two really are just best friends. You don't need the dating rumors to turn into a full blown scandal.

"Oh baby, dear, my loveliest little sunflower, who do you think is the killer?" You turn to Minho and try to hold back your laughter at seeing him wrestle with the ruffles that keep coming up from the collar and tickling his nose.

"Oh my handsome, manly, bravest lionheart, I think it was that barista for sure!" He looks up and bats his eyelashes at you for dramatic effect.

And for some reason, instead of spewing back some heinously cheesy line, you are struck with a totally unwelcome thought.

Minho is so Pretty.

What the fuck?

~✨~

The rest of the shoot goes by fairly quickly. It devolves into chaos, as things normally do with the nine of you. But the rest of the time you are a little more fidgety than usual. The unwelcome thought about your best friend Minho burrowing into your brain until it fully settles and the shoot is over and you are left with the realization that your best friend is pretty.

You'd rather not unpack that.

~✨~

A few weeks pass by and you successfully manage to bury your realization about Minho deep in your subconscious to the point where you haven't thought about it in two whole days! (That's impressive! Really! You initially thought about it at least five times a day… okay like five times an hour)

Finally the group had a whole weekend off! No SKZCode, no crazy schedules, just you, your two best friends, a mountain of takeout and snacks, and a movie marathon.

"Pass the popcorn Ji!" You made grabby hands at Jisung and he just laughed and passed over the bowl.

"Oi! Ya big babies scooch and make some room I wanna be in the middle." Minho yelled out, passing you both a soju bottle.

"Oooohh hyung you know me so well! I love the Strawberry soju!" Jisung grabbed his bottle, smiling up at Minho.

"And you got me yogurt flavored? You must really love us Min!" You smiled up at Minho.

Minho looked down at Jisung then over to you where his eyes lingered a beat too long. You held eye contact until it was a bit too much for you and you looked away. You heard Minho let out a small chuckle as he sat between you and Jisung.

"A toast! To my two best friends, Soulmates, and other cheesy shit!" Minho laughed while raising his own soju.

"To other cheesy shit!" You and Ji said in unison, toasting and gulping down some soju.

You three continued drinking and laughing and having a blast while the movies played in the background. At some point Minho had put his arms around you and Ji and the two of you were snuggling into him watching the movie. You were pulled out of your focus when you started to hear soft snoring coming from Minho's lap where Jisung's head was resting. You smiled and reached over to softly comb your fingers through his hair. You felt Minho softly chuckle under you and you lifted your head to meet his eyes where he was smiling down fondly at you and Ji.

"You two are so adorable, " he said softly, trying not to wake Jisung. You smiled, and your hazy mind decided that was the moment to open the box you had sealed shut weeks ago.

"You're so pretty Min." You all but whispered the words, but Minho heard you loud and clear. His breath lightly hitched and he raised his hand to stroke your cheek.

"You are so beautiful my little moon bear."

~✨~

Weeks passed and the movie night incident was never spoken of. The shared moment between you and Minho had been something so soft and intimate you were afraid of what you would say if he ever brought it up. But thankfully he never did. So you just went on with your life. Your schedule was about to get busy again anyway so there was plenty to keep it out of your mind… right?

~✨~

You can't get it out of your head. No matter what you do it is all you can think about and it is stressing you out. So you do what you do every time you get stressed.

You bake.

After gathering all the ingredients you snap a picture and send it off to Felix.

Y/nnie🤩🧁: [Photo Attached]

Lixxie🍰🍫: I'm on my way.

Felix knew you really only baked when you were stressed out since you never really had the time but the act made you calm down a bit so when he got the picture of all the baking supplies he must have known that you needed a friend because not even twenty minutes later there you were in your kitchen baking enough brownies to feed a small town.

"Soooo, you gonna tell me what brought this stress baking spree on?" He asked softly like he was coaxing a cat out from under the bed. You almost wanted to laugh.

"What gave me away?" You laughed.

"Well when you are baking just to bake you usually only make enough for the nine of us, this is enough to feed the whole company Y/nnie, so tell me what's going on?" You let out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and put down your baking tools.

"Lix I don't even know what's going on to be honest. Things with one of my good friends have recently gotten a little…tense? Weird? I don't know. And I don't know if it's just me or if they are feeling it too you know?" Felix is looking at you like he knows exactly what you're talking about and you briefly panic wondering if he can read minds. Then he lets out a sigh and pulls you in for a hug. You melt into his familiar embrace and allow him to hold you while he slowly speaks.

"Things being weird between friends is never fun. In my experience the best way to fix things is through open communication. Just tell this person what you feel and see if they feel the same then go from there." He says while slowly stroking your hair.

"That's the issue Lix, I don't know what I am feeling."

"Ah, well that seems like a good place to start then yeah?"

~✨~

You haven't had time to think about what you and Lix had talked about. Between recording and practicing choreography you barely had time to eat let alone think. So you focused on work. For now.

The next scheduled SKZCode was going to be a haunted house.

Now here's the thing. Haunted houses are objectively not scary. HOWEVER, if someone with you jumps, you tend to jump as well. If someone screams, so do you. So if you are paired with a scaredy cat, you will get scared. And the staff love to make you seem extra cutesy since you are the only girl so of course you get paired with Minho and Jisung.

Jisung is going to get scared. You know in your heart that he is going to scream and he might even cry. Minho on the other hand is going to try and scare you and Ji, and it is going to work. You know this because the three of you have gone to haunted houses together before and that is exactly what happened.

So you resigned yourself to your fate.

~✨~

"Noona, hyung, I am so scared, what if a real monster snuck on set and is hiding with the staff members and it sees us and eats us?" Ji whimpered as he clung onto one of Minho's arms.

"Sungie that's silly, a monster wouldn't eat us here on camera, it would follow us home and eat us there so there was no proof!" Minho snickers as you whack his side.

"Don't scare our poor Ji any more than he already is Min! His poor little heart can't take it!" you hiss at him under your breath. Your slightly shaky voice gives away the fact that you too were getting scared.

"Oh relax y/nnie, Sungie and you are gonna be just fine with me here to protect you." Minho said softly while squeezing you a little more into his side.

Well that was new. He'd usually make fun of you for getting scared and try to rile you up even more. But his tone… it was the same one he had used during the movie night.

That was definitely something you didn't want to think about right now while you were on camera.

You continued through the haunted house, nothing really getting to you, until you opened one room and walked into complete darkness.

Your breath hitched and you clung to Minho a bit tighter. He responded by rubbing soothing circles onto your arm and pulling you a bit closer into his side.

The lights came on and a staff in a costume jumped out and scared you. You and Jisung started screaming and Minho flung himself in front of you. Your eyes widened at the gesture and you looked over to Jisung only to see him looking between you and Minho with a questioning look on his face. This was definitely going to cause a dating scandal if you didn't do something quick, so without skipping a beat you grabbed Jisung and dramatically clung to him. He seemed to get the message and reciprocated. The both of you clinging onto one another while yelling. The whole scene was honestly quite hilarious and adorable.

Minho seemed to come out of it and turned around to see his two best friends clinging onto one another dramatically and cracked a smile before full blown laughing at you two. You and Jisung slowly looked at one another and slowly detangled your limbs, then burst out laughing.

With the tension dissipated you all went through the rest of the haunted house without any further incidents.

Yet Minho's tone rang in your ears, reminding you of what he said last time

"You are so beautiful my little moon bear."

~✨~

The next SKZCode was coming up and the group had been gushing about it the whole time. A camping trip! You would get to play games with the guys, eat delicious food, and even go fishing! The catch? You would all be sleeping on the floor in the same room. Normally this would be no problem. You would cuddle up with Jisung and Minho and all would be good. Now though?

You decided to finally listen to Felix and figure out what you were feeling by laying out some facts.

Fact one: You think Minho is pretty, like unfairly pretty, but then again so does everyone else. So that could mean anything really.

Fact two: Minho acted really weird when you went to the movies with Seungmin, something you do very frequently. You have no clue what that was.

Fact three: When Minho whispered something dirty in your ear it caused something to flutter in you. He was just joking and trying to get your heart racing for the game so surely it meant nothing right?

Fact four: You called Minho pretty and he called you beautiful. You had said things like that before but never whispered and inches from each other's faces… That one… you don't know what to do with.

Fact five: You are clueless as to what all this means.

Cool. Well that was a waste of time.

~✨~

You and the boys piled out of the cars and started to get everything ready for the night. You split off into groups, people needed to go shopping, people needed to cook, people decided to do each other's hair? Not really sure what that has to do with camping but you, Minho, and Jisung gave each other silly little hairdos and everything was great. The day absolutely flew by and you were doing so great not thinking about the way Minho makes you feel.

Finally you were all seated around the campfire. Jisung got saddled with cooking everyone breakfast in the morning and even though he is your best friend you do not want to wake up early so you start to devise a plan to get out of it.

Chan peels Jisung a sweet potato to appeal to him. Damn that's hard to top. You are scrambling to come up with something to top that and miss what is being said until you hear Minho's voice.

"I won't be fake either. I love you."

Everyone burst out laughing at Minho's proclamation to Jisung but you feel… weird. You are looking between Jisung and Minho and there's this pit in your stomach, almost like…

No fucking way.

No way are you jealous right now.

Jisung and Minho are best friends just like you and Minho and you and Ji are… and yet…

Shit.

Everything starts to make sense, the bickering, the playful flirting, the butterflies in your stomach.

You have a huge fucking crush on Lee Minho.

As you come to this realization, you lock eyes with him from across the campfire. His smirk softens, and he gently smiles at you.

Oh fuck, what are you going to do?

~✨~

You all lay down for the night and as usual you are sandwiched between your two boys, not so usual, you are clinging to Ji like your life depends on it and are slowly scooting further from Minho's touch.

He giggles probably thinking you are messing with him and grabs your waist to pull you flush to him.

"Where do you think you're going, little moon bear?" He whispers into your ear.

You almost whimper. Almost. You manage to pull your shit together because you are all still on camera and make a show of grabbing for Jisung in front of you.

"I'm cold! I need Ji's heat or else I'll die in the night!" You say dramatically, trying to play it off. Minho must buy it because he remains silent behind you and the three of you get cozy before eventually falling asleep.

~✨~

You wake up in the morning With Minho's entire body wrapped around you. Jisung is trying to get up so he can go to the store with Chan.

"Noona, I've got to go so I can make you breakfast, promise I'll be back soon." Jisung laughs as you pout at him leaving you and you sigh and grumble. You are still a bit cold so you shimmy around so you are now facing Minho.

He is still asleep, so you allow yourself to look at him. You take in his cute little bunny teeth, the little mole on his nose, and his eyelashes fluttering. Oh, his eyes are open, and he caught you staring.

Well that's fucking embarrassing.

He just smiles and pulls you in a little tighter, looking back at you. His eyes pass from your eyes, to your nose, and down to your lips where he lingers for a moment too long. Then he looks back into your eyes.

"Good morning moon bear." He softly whispers. You feel his breath fan against your face and you try not to let your eyelashes flutter at the action.

"Good morning Min." You whisper back. His eyelashes do flutter and you have to hold yourself back from jumping to any conclusions. For a few moments you just gaze into each other's eyes in silence. Finally he reaches a hand up and brushes your cheek.

"Beautiful." It's the smallest whisper but you are barely an inch from his face so you catch it. Minho adjusts his hand so he is now cupping your cheek and your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

Is he about to kiss you?

"Min." It's a breathless whisper, you're so close to him now you're sure he felt it more than heard it.

"WHO WANTS RAMYEON?!" Jisung's voice wakes everyone up and the moment passes. Minho's eyes close and he seems to be frustrated.

You are dying inside.

Was he about to kiss you?

~✨~

The day passes too quickly. You all eat and play games and everything is totally normal on the surface. You have to be normal because you are being filmed. Minho doesn't act any differently, he certainly doesn't bring up the almost-maybe kiss. You decide that if he wants to talk about it then he will talk to you. So you do what you do best.

You perform for the camera and ignore your stupid feelings.

~✨~

You're full on spiraling at this point. Every time you close your eyes you see Minho gazing into your eyes, about to pull you in.

You shake your head. No, this isn't real. Your silly little crush is making you delusional. Minho wasn't going to kiss you, he just called you beautiful and held your face because… because… well you can't think of another explanation, but there must be one because it has been days and Minho hasn't brought it up and if he wanted to kiss you then surely he would have brought it up… right?

Fuck this.

The next SKZCode is coming up and you can just focus on that and not Minho's sparkling eyes, his plush lips, his little nose mole… Fuck. You are officially down bad.

Well you know what that means.

It's time to do something stupid.

~✨~

"Innie! I need your help!" You shout as you walk into the boys dorm. The brunette pops his head out of his door and looks you up and down.

"Yeah I'd say you definitely do." He says distastefully.

"Damn child who raised you?"

"Definitely not you Noona or I'd be dressing like a Target commercial."

You both burst out laughing at that.

"Fair point, but seriously, I need your opinion on what to wear for the next SKZCode."

"Oooh a fashion emergency? Of course you would come to me! Well come right in Noona, we will fix that god awful outfit you've got on in no time!"

He grabbed your hand and dragged you into the room.

"So are we going for Kawaii like usual or did you want to look like one of the guys? I know this is acrobatics so we are looking more toward athleisure type outfits." I.N. says all of this while digging through his closet looking for the stash of your clothes he hid in there.

"Well I was actually thinking I wanted to look… sexy?…" I.N. froze in his closet when you spoke. "I mean obviously not like crazy sexy or anything I just want to look really good you know? Not like a cute little girl and not boyish either. Does that make sense?" I.N. stood up and slowly turned to look at you with a Cheshire grin on his face.

"Noona. I have been waiting my whole life to hear you say those words."

~✨~

You look hot. Holy fuck you have never looked this good in front of the guys. Even at premieres and shows you've always been kawaii or dudebro to match the guys but this? The crop top Innie puts you in fits you in all the best ways, it's low cut enough to be provocative but not enough to be slutty. The back is cut out and it is the perfect shade for your skin tone. But the pants. My god your ass has never looked more smackable. It's like I.N. knew exactly who your target audience was. Your hair is done up in a cute ponytail with the little strands hanging out the front.

You look like sex on legs.

"Jesus Innie you're a god at this."

"I know, I take payment in food and coffee."

"Innie I'd buy you a five course meal for this shit god damn."

You both started laughing and he reached behind him to grab something.

"The final touch."

~✨~

You walked into the studio and it suddenly got very quiet. All the boys were looking at you with varying expressions.

"So? What do you all think? Didn't I do an amazing job?" I.N. grinned at the rest of the guys who were ranging from outright ogling you to shyly avoiding your gaze.

"Yeah Innie you did great." Chan was the first to speak and after that the compliments kept flowing from everyone except the one person you wanted.

Oh well. Onto phase two.

~✨~

You made sure to get a spot right in front of Minho so he could see the full extent of Innie's 'final touch'. A bow in your hair long enough to basically make a runway to the swell of your ass.

The episode went by pretty fast, you were actually having a lot of fun doing all the poses. You noticed when you did the mermaid pose Minho made a noise, a grunt? Maybe a gasp? Whatever it was you were certain your plan was working. Now all you had to do was actually talk to him about what you felt like Felix had recommended.

Once the episode was over you headed over to Minho.

"Hey, Min, you got a sec?" You put your hands behind your back to maximize the silhouette's effect.

"Actually no, sorry, I've got to get home, lots of stuff to get done. I'll text you later okay?" Minho was avoiding your eyes and shuffling from one foot to the other.

"Oh, okay… I guess I'll talk to you later?" You leaned your head down to catch his eye and when he finally locked eyes with you his gaze was searing and sent a chill down your spine.

"Yeah."

~✨~

Well that was fucking weird and definitely not the reaction you had been hoping for. Mr. Self proclaimed butt hunter didn't even attempt to slap your ass in these phenomenal leggings you wore just for him. You groaned into your pillow and allowed yourself to feel frustrated. Any time you had big feelings like this there was always one thing that helped.

You shot Hyunjin a text and after receiving a confirmation you headed to the art studio.

~✨~

Lo-fi music playing on the speaker, a nice hot cup of coffee sitting next to you, and a medium blank canvas sat in front of you, what more could you want? You let the atmosphere wash over you as you tried to use your frustration to create a work of art.

You have no idea how much time has passed, you never do when you're painting with Hyunjin. You could occasionally hear his soft humming and brush-strokes glide across his canvas.

Time with Hyunjin always seemed to calm you down. Maybe it was the chill playlist he favored for the occasion, maybe it was the smell of coffee in the air, or maybe it was the way he simply existed with you in the moment, not requiring you to engage.

You added the final touches on the canvas and nodded to yourself.

"Hyune?" Hyunjin hummed in response.

"What do you think of this one?" You gestured to the finished piece in front of you. Hyunjin stood up and stretched before coming over to admire your work.

"It feels… lonely. Like you are reaching for something in the distance but it's too far away for you to grasp." You simply hummed in response and Hyunjin laid his head on your shoulder.

"I like it Y/N, it's…" He went silent for a moment before sighing and wrapping his arms around you.

"It's beautiful."

~✨~

Weeks had passed since the failed seduction attempt on your part and Minho had been annoyingly 'busy' so you hadn't really seen him outside of your work schedule. The distance was getting to you and you started to wonder if you had done something wrong. Minho had never gone this long without reaching out to hang out or simply showing up at your apartment in years. You couldn't shake the feeling that he was avoiding you and it hurt. A lot. That hurt turned to borderline anger when you saw on Ji's story that he and Minho were having a movie night.

Without you.

You checked the group chat to see if you had missed an invite but there hadn't been a message in over a week since Ji had sent you both a cat meme. Maybe Minho noticed your attempt at flirting and decided that ghosting you was better than outright rejection? Even if that was the case the two of you were both close with Ji and not to mention your co-workers, so how could he just cut you out like that? Jisung hadn't even mentioned the movie night and that hurt you too.

Were you losing both your best friends because you had some stupid feelings?

You felt yourself starting to spiral but before you hit the point of no return you took some calming breaths and closed your eyes. You could not break, not now, you had a busy schedule coming up so you focused on that instead.

Thankfully, it was time to film the next SKZCode so at least you got to do something fun. You prepared yourself to get into the Christmas spirit.

~✨~

The staff welcomed you all in and explained the premise of the episode. You were all going to play games and try and win someone over to end up partnered by the end. You immediately thought of MinBear and how much STAY would love to see the two of you end up together before remembering that you and Minho were currently fighting.

Okay maybe not fighting but it's not like you are exactly on speaking terms. The only communication you'd had in weeks was him correcting you in dance practice.

You couldn't go to Ji either, You were mad at him too. Okay mad is maybe an overstatement but you were definitely not happy.

That left the obvious choice.

You decided to set your sights on Felix. You figured the kawaii image you were presenting mixed with his sunshine would be adorable for STAY. To your credit it works pretty well… for about five minutes. You're not sure what exactly happened but one minute you were fake-flirting with Lix, trying to match up with him, the next he is shyly moving away from you and talking to Hyunjin.

You're confused to say the least, that is until you feel soft breaths on your neck.

"Awh are you eating all alone little moon bear? Don't worry, I'll sit with you." You fight the shudders that threaten to run down your spine hearing Minho's voice so close to you after him being so distant for so long.

"Oh, so you're talking to me now huh Min?" You mean to sound angry but it barely masks the hurt in your softly spoken words. You look down at your lap to hide the tears welling up in your eyes.

Minho goes quiet for a moment then gently pulls your face up, angled away from the camera so STAY couldn't see your tear-laden eyes. A small gasp comes from his mouth.

"Jagi…" He softly whispers before hugging you tight to his chest. "Y/N, sweetheart, why are you crying?" He whispers in your hair to shield his lips from the camera.

"It's nothing Min, I'm okay. Let's just keep eating or STAY will worry about us."

"I don't care if STAY worries, my favorite girl is crying and I'm going to comfort her." You pull away a bit at his words to look into his eyes.

"I'm still your favorite girl?" You whisper the question and you hear Minho's small sound of disbelief at your question.

"Of course jagiya, you've always been my favorite girl. Let's talk more after the skit yeah?"

"Okay."

~✨~

Minho makes sure to stick by your side the rest of the shoot. The two of you end up a pair at the end and as you walk out of the room, prepared to head to the recording studio you are surprised when Minho leads you out the door instead.

"Min, where are we going? Channie oppa told us to go to the recording booth after the shoot."

"I texted him and told him that you needed the afternoon off because you weren't feeling well and that I was going to come take care of you. He said it was okay, so I'm taking you home."

"Oh, okay then."

You both remain silent as you approach the company car and Minho opens the door for you and you both slide in. The ride is unusually quiet for the two of you and you are worried that Minho might be mad at you for something and the longer the silence continues, the higher your anxiety spikes.

By the time you reach your apartment you have over-analyzed every interaction the two of you have had over the past few weeks and you have convinced yourself that Minho actually just hates you and is taking you home to break the news in private so none of the cameras catch you crying again.

You are panicking. You can't lose him because of some stupid attraction you may feel. He is one of your best friends and losing him would be devastating.

Once you reach the door of your apartment you are so close to having a panic attack that your hands start shaking as you try to insert your key into the lock. Minho stands and waits while you shakily unlock and open the door. Once you are inside you are frozen in place waiting for the worst.

Then Minho gathers you in his arms and holds you tight.

"It's okay jagi, you're safe here." He whispers as he starts rubbing soothing circles on your back. You don't even realize you are crying again until he lifts your head by your chin and wipes your tears away. You smile softly and Minho returns it.

You are okay. He is not mad at you. Everything is alright.

"Come on sweetheart, let's go cuddle on the couch and watch a shitty rom-com."

You silently nod and he leads you both to the couch. You sit, his arms still wrapped around you as he guides you to rest your head on his chest. You both stay like that as he starts up one of your favorite movies.

You both watch the movie, Minho rubbing soothing circles on your skin while you nuzzle into his warmth. It is quiet for some time until Minho lets out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry I made you worry Y/N, I really was busy and some things came up and I just needed a guys night with Ji, I hope you understand I am not mad at you and you are still my favorite girl." Minho's words made you smile and you sunk further into his embrace.

"It's okay Min, I guess I just felt left out and it messed with me for a minute but I get it. We are good." You looked up into his eyes and in a whisper added:

"Promise."

~✨~

There was an electric feeling in the air. You and the boys were beyond excited for your second world tour. This time you were going to go back to Chan and Felix's home country. The two aussies had spent entirely too much time teaching you and the boys all the important aussie slang you would need and helping you all with your English.

The Maniac tour was set to be your biggest endeavor as a group yet. Minho was drilling the choreo into everyone relentlessly and often spent his free time one-on-one helping each member who asked. Ji was always in the studio with his fellow 3Racha members to ensure everything was perfect. And you? You were spending every free moment you could with Felix trying to perfect your English so you could communicate with the international STAYs.

It was overwhelming but you all pushed yourselves to the limit because you wanted to be amazing for STAY.

Finally the day came and it was time for your first concert.

The lights were blinding and the stadium was so loud you could barely hear yourself think.

It was exhilarating.

The concert went by so fast and you had such a great time with your fellow members.

You were still in Seoul but it all felt new, you couldn't believe you and your boys had made it this far.

The next two shows flew by and your time in Japan was short. You and the boys tried your best to keep filming your logs for the STAYs who couldn't make it to the shows. Everything was amazing.

Finally it was time to head overseas to America. U.S. STAYs were much louder than your STAYs back home. The atmosphere was incredible and you all had the time of your lives performing in the U.S. again. You and the boys tried to speak as much English as you could but it is a hard language for you all so you relied heavily on the aussies for translation help.

In between shows you, Ji, and Min would hole up in one of your hotel rooms and gush about how much fun this all was and how excited you all were to finally go to Australia. You would watch bits of movies before ultimately passing out in a cuddle pile on someone's bed, only to wake up and repeat the next day.

The days flew by and before you knew it it was time to hop on a plane headed to Chan and Felix's home. You all made sure you had time planned to meet their families and have a good time while in the land down under.

When you arrived at the hotel to check in, the staff found out that there was a mistake and only seven rooms had been booked. Someone must have thought Chan and Felix were staying with their families but they simply lived too far from the concert venues. After a very long flight and eager to sleep off your jet lag, everyone was too tired to argue about who would be sharing rooms until Minho spoke up.

"Y/N, Ji, and I have kinda been sharing this whole tour anyway, we may as well just share a room from the get-go if that is okay with everyone else?"

The staff looked bewildered at Minho's suggestion. A girl sharing a room with two boys? That's quite unusual. But the other members were used to you three having slumber parties all the time back home and just shrugged it off insisting that if you were fine with it so were they.

So, you three headed up to your shared room.

~✨~

"Ugh, I could sleep for like a week at this point." Jisung groaned out before promptly falling face-first onto the nearest bed to him.

"Yah! Hannie, you know I like sleeping further from the door, give Y/N that bed and you and I can share the other." Minho glared at the younger boy already getting comfortable in the bed.

"Hyuuuunnnggg I'm already in this one though." Jisung whined out and sank further under the covers.

"Min it's okay, Ji can have that bed and you and I can just share the other. I prefer being close to the window anyway." You said sleepily before heading over to the far bed and setting up your stuff on the nightstand.

"Are you sure Y/nnie? I can kick the lazy quokka out if you'd prefer a bed to yourself."

"I'm sure Min, we all have been sleeping on one bed almost every night of the tour anyway, I'm kind of used to having someone next to me anyway." You shrugged and gathered your sleep clothes.

"I'm gonna go shower real quick, airplanes always make me feel greasy, either of you need to use the bathroom before I go?" You asked the two. Jisung had already passed out and you and Minho just laughed at the sleepy boy before Minho looked up at you.

"No, you're all good. I'll shower after you too so our bed doesn't get gross like Sungie's." You both started laughing and you went to the bathroom and hopped in the shower.

While in the shower you let your thoughts roam. You had been so busy with the tour and Jisung had been stuck with you and Minho the whole time as well so you hadn't had time to think about your maybe-feelings for Minho. Now you were confronted with the fact that while you all were here there would be no escaping to your own room if things got too weird for you.

Not just that but you were sharing a bed with him.

You and Minho had slept in the same bed many times but you were almost always accompanied by Jisung as well. Now it would just be the two of you…

It won't be weird if you don't make it weird.

Right?

~✨~

You finally got out of the shower and changed into your pajamas. After doing your skincare you came out of the bathroom and stopped in place when you looked up and saw a shirtless Minho standing in the middle of the room. His back was facing you and you took a second to admire his strong shoulder muscles down to the dip in his back, just above the hem of his shorts. You could've stood there staring forever but when Minho started to pull down his shorts you made a small noise, something between a whimper and a groan. Minho stiffened and dramatically turned toward you with a hand over his pecs.

"Y/N! Sorry! I didn't hear you come out. I was going to change into my robe before going in after you. Sorry about that. I'll just… bring it with me." The tips of his ears were a fiery red and you're sure you were no better. You could feel yourself flushing and you quickly looked down and nodded as he passed by you and quickly went into the bathroom to shower.

Well that didn't help your situation.

You crawled into bed and tried to calm yourself down but every time you closed your eyes you just saw a shirtless Minho again. You lightly groaned and turned your body away from the bathroom and tried to will yourself to fall asleep before Minho came back so you didn't have to face him.

Of course that didn't work. You had been so tired when you got here but now you were like a live wire and you knew that sleep would not come easily.

When Minho returned from his shower he said nothing as he slowly climbed into the bed next to you. It was quiet for a moment before he broke the silence.

"Sooo… do you want to cuddle?" He said it slowly and quietly and you internally screamed. There is no way you would fall asleep if Minho was touching you… and yet.

"Yeah, that sounds nice." You quietly answered.

Minho scooted closer to you and wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you tightly.

"Is this good?" He whispered. You could feel how close he was when he spoke, his breath tickling your ear.

"Yeah, it's perfect."

You were so fucked.

~✨~

Just as you thought, it took you forever to fall asleep. However, when you woke up you felt completely relaxed, you had somehow gotten the best night's sleep you had had in a very long time. You slowly came to consciousness and the first thing you noticed was a hair on your face tickling your nose. You realized there was some sort of breeze on your face, cracking an eye open and you bit back a squeak at the sight before you.

You had shifted in the night and were now, yet again, face-to-face with a sleeping Minho. His arms were wrapped tightly around you and your legs were tangled. He was beautiful like this. Soft breaths coming out from him as he peacefully slept. You stared at him in wonder and decided that a few more moments of this wouldn't hurt.

After some time passed Minho eventually began to stir. He groaned and hugged you a bit tighter before opening his eyes. You were both quiet, allowing the peaceful moment in an otherwise chaotic few months. You softly smiled and he returned it.

"G'morning jagi." He whispered, trying not to break the peaceful atmosphere the two of you were caught in.

"Good morning sleepyhead." You softly chuckled and he giggled in return, nuzzling slightly closer to you.

"I could get used to this, you know?" He whispered, now inches from your face. You breath hitched at his comment and before you could respond there was a loud banging on your door.

"YAH WAKE UP LAZY BUMS IT'S TIME TO GET READY!" Chan's voice rang out and Minho groaned, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You heard Jisung yelp from the other bed at Chan's command.

"Time to go." Minho groaned.

~✨~

The next few days were a blur. The Aussie STAYs were crazy. The concerts were so much fun but you were all so exhausted that by the time you got back to the hotel it took all of your energy to shower before crawling back into bed.

You and Minho slept in each other's arms every night.

Once the concerts were over you were all invited to the Bang residence for dinner. All nine of you laughed and ate and bonded with Chan's family. It was amazing and you never wanted it to end, but eventually it was time to go. You and Hannah exchanged numbers, her saying you needed a girl friend being surrounded by the eight loud boys all the time. You laughed and agreed, saving her number immediately.

You would cherish the time you got to spend in Australia forever.

~✨~

The rest of the tour flew by, the nine of you really giving it your all and after months it was finally time to come back home. You were so excited to sleep in your own bed again and get back into your normal crazy schedule.

The first few nights back home were odd. You couldn't fall asleep no matter how tired you were. You assumed it was just the jet lag but after days of bad sleep you were ready to snap.

It was a normal day filled with dance practice and small photoshoots but you were so exhausted you felt like you were going to fall over at any minute. You noticed Minho looked dead tired as well. You wondered if he was having trouble adjusting as well.

After your schedule was done for the day you decided to take a nice walk to try and calm your mind. After walking up and down the Han rivers shore a few times you decided it was time to head home.

You entered your apartment to the sound of the TV on and smiled.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" you jokingly asked the boy on your couch.

"I've been sleeping like shit and decided to see if it's my bed or just me so I came to stay here if that's cool with you?" Minho didn't look away from the TV as he spoke.

"You're always welcome here Min you know that. Wanna order takeout?" You plopped next to him on the couch and leaned on his shoulder.

"Already got your favorite from that one place with the noodles you like." He wrapped an arm around you and turned on yet another shitty rom-com for you two to watch. You let out a hum of approval and sank into his embrace before answering.

"Thanks Min, you're the best."

"Anything for my favorite girl."

You and Minho sat in content silence until the food came. You both ate as much as you could handle before settling back to finish your movie. Once it was over you stretched and yawned, feeling more exhausted than you had in a long time. Minho smiled at you and reached out for your hand.

"You look exhausted, let's head to bed."

You sleepily nodded and took his hand. He led you to your room where you both climbed into bed and he gathered you into his arms just like he had back in Sydney. You both let out a content sigh at the contact and before you knew it you were out.

You slept like the dead. You didn't realize how much you missed Minho's presence until you had it once again. After that there was an unspoken agreement between the two of you to share a bed until further notice. You loved the contact but the longer it continued the more your feelings grew.

You think you might be falling in love with your best friend and for the first time you think you might be okay with that.

#skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #lee know smut #lee know hard thoughts #lee know hard hours #minho hard thoughts

89 notes · View notes