#donghyuck drama

[kiszjuli]

𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 ──── [𝐋.𝐃𝐇] 𓈒  𓈒  𓈒 

( 이동혁 ) ; 𝐟𝐞𝗺!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐥𝐞𝐞 𝐝𝗼𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐜𝐤

──── in which your parents had always told you to stay away from boys like haechan. boys with cocky smirks, black eye liner, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warning labels. you never had a reason to listen until you were assigned to tutor him after school. it should have been simple. help him pass, get it over with. but there’s something about him that drew you in, and you didn’t want to pull away.

✦ drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish). forbidden love? ; tags. goodgirl!reader x badboy!haechan, suggestive, your parents are literal jerks, swearing, mentions of fighting, kissing !!, protective!haechan, corruption? but not really, lmk if i missed any ! ;

𓂃 w.c [ 15.3k / 22.7k ]

!! not proofread !!

▸ j.note ; i hadn’t planned on making this fic so long but emo haechan does something to me i guess. also pls pls give feedback i want to improve my writings in the best way possible and i know my writing needs a lot of work, so constructive criticism is encouraged.

▸ this is part one of two and part two can be found here .ᐟ

© kiszjuli 2025 ⟳ likes & reblogs are appreciated

you had never been the type to chase trouble.

your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.

your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.

it wasn’t that you minded. not really.

your life was safe—comfortable.

weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.

and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.

because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.

the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.

lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.

he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.

and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.

—

science had always been your best subject.

there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.

but not everyone saw it that way.

from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.

“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.

your hand went up without hesitation.

“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”

“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.

from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.

your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.

you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.

it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.

he didn’t matter.

or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.

—

you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.

“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.

you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.

but then the teacher said another name.

“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.

your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.

he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.

the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.

“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”

he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”

your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”

that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.

“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”

your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”

“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”

you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.

slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.

your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.

his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.

“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”

your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”

your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”

haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”

you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.

—

you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.

the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.

“so, tutor, when do we start?”

you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”

haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”

you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”

“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”

you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.

“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”

“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”

you stopped walking.

haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.

“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”

for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.

then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.

you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.

after a beat, he grinned.

“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”

you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”

“yes, ma’am.”

you ignored him.

but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.

—

you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.

“you’re home later than usual.”

you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”

that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.

“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.

you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”

your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”

you hesitated for half a second.

“haechan.”

the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.

“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.

“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”

your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”

you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”

your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”

there it was. the warning.

and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.

you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”

your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.

“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”

you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.

they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.

you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”

and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.

they were overreacting.

they didn’t know him.

and neither did you.

—

session one - monday february 23rd

the school day dragged.

it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.

you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.

by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.

and yet, fifteen minutes passed.

then twenty.

you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.

was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?

finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”

you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.

you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”

“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.

you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”

he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”

already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”

he wasn’t listening.

instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.

you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”

“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”

you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”

he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.

“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”

you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.

when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”

you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.

he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”

you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.

but one way or another, you were getting through to him.

—

the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.

why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?

get a grip.

the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.

the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.

(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)

continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.

“yo, tutor.”

your head snapped up.

haechan. again.

he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.

“we should celebrate.”

you frowned. “celebrate what?”

“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”

you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”

“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”

and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.

—

session two - wednesday the 25th

you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.

it didn’t work.

haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.

“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”

“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”

you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”

“that’s asking a lot.”

“it’s not.”

to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.

“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”

“you need it to pass.”

“passing is overrated.”

“says the guy who’s literally failing.”

he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touché, sunshine.”

the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.

progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.

“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”

“no.”

“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”

“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”

“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”

you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”

he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.

session three - friday the 27th

miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.

“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”

“so, you just choose not to be?”

“exactly.”

today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.

and then, halfway through, he got bored.

“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”

you blinked. “we are not doing this.”

“come on, humor me.”

“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”

“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”

you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”

he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”

“how generous.”

“i try.”

somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.

“hey, sunshine.”

you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.

“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”

“leave.”

he laughed all the way out the door.

session four - monday march 2nd

you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.

“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.

while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”

“brutal.”

you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.

“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.

“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”

“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”

you checked. he was right.

“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”

“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

despite yourself, you bit back a smile.

the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.

“see you wednesday, sunshine.”

this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.

you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.

—

session five – wednesday the 4th

it was one of those days.

haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.

“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”

“you walk here.”

“damn. caught me.”

you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”

he did. kind of.

five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.

“haechan,” you warned.

“hmm?”

“can you at least pretend to care?”

he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”

you shook your head. “whatever.”

“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”

you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”

he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”

you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”

“eh, close enough.”

“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”

“nah.”

that was it.

“then why the hell are we even doing this?”

he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.

“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”

you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.

session seven – monday the 9th

the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.

he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.

“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.

he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.

“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”

he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”

you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”

he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.

“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.

you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.

“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”

“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.

you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”

he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.

“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”

you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.

“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”

but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.

he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”

“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”

there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.

haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.

“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”

and for once, you believed him.

—

days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.

you didn’t have to wait long.

“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”

you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”

“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”

you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”

your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”

you huffed. “define effort.”

they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.

“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”

“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.

your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”

you frowned. “careful?”

“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”

“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.

and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”

“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”

“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”

they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.

—

session ten – monday the 16th

you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.

but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.

you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.

“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”

you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.

“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.

“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.

“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”

but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.

“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”

no. you weren’t. you refused to.

but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”

and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.

“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”

he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”

“i don’t.”

“liar.”

you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.

—

session twelve - friday the 20th

you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.

maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.

still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.

and waiting.

and waiting.

until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.

you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.

this was exactly why you didn’t like him.

not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.

except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.

you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.

“seriously?”

no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.

and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.

even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.

—

the weekend was quite eventful.

saturday -

you weren’t mad.

at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.

but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.

you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.

still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.

saturday night -

“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”

you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”

she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”

you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”

“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”

“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.

you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.

was she right?

sunday afternoon -

you spotted him before he saw you.

standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.

he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.

the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.

“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”

you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”

he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”

“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”

he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”

your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.

“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.

and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.

but the worst part? the absolute worst part?

he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.

—

session thirteen - monday the 23rd

for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.

monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.

he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.

“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.

“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”

you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”

he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.

and that was enough.

for now.

later that week, things changed.

session fifteen- friday the 25th

you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.

too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.

you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.

“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”

he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.

“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”

“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”

“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.

you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”

he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.

but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.

“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.

“you don’t have to get into fights.”

he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.

when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.

for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.

like he didn’t understand why you cared.

“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”

you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”

his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.

he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.

because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.

and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.

—

after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.

the next session, he actually tries.

not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.

session sixteen - monday the 28th

“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.

he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”

you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”

but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.

—

then, he starts showing up.

not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.

like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.

“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”

you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”

he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”

he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.

“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.

“i know.”

he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.

—

the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.

you don’t hear him at first.

not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.

“hey, sunshine.”

you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”

he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.

“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.

he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”

you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.

“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.

“yeah, i know.”

“so why—”

“just shut up and keep walking.”

the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.

“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you roll your eyes but don’t push.

when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.

“see you later, sunshine.”

he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.

but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.

—

you should be asleep.

but you’re not.

instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.

you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.

but still.

“just making sure you get home okay.”

he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.

but it was. wasn’t it?

you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.

not about you. just—about anything.

maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.

but then again—

“depends.”

“on what?”

“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”

you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.

you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.

or the fact that you kind of want him to.

—

session nineteen - monday april 4th

you check the time again.

ten minutes late.

with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.

and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.

“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.

“miss me?”

the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.

you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”

the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.

he’s restless. more than usual.

his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.

not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.

“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.

haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”

you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”

he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”

your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”

silence.

his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.

and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.

“good question.”

your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.

neither of you speak after that.

the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.

you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.

heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.

—

session twenty - wednesday the 6th

wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.

haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.

but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.

—

session twenty one - friday the 8th

friday’s session is different.

when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.

the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.

you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.

you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”

haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”

you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”

finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”

you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.

he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”

it takes you a second to process. “what?”

he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.

you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”

“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”

and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.

without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.

haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.

you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.

and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.

it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.

your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.

you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.

there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.

his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.

he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.

you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?

his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”

you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.

the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.

you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.

neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.

—

saturday -

saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”

his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.

when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.

at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.

“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.

“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.

the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.

you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.

as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.

“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”

you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”

you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.

sunday -

sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.

he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?

you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.

session twenty two - monday the 11th

by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.

when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.

you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.

the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.

by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.

—

session twenty three - wednesday the 13th

it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.

you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.

“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.

he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.

you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”

he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”

there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.

you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.

“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.

“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.

he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.

his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.

and then he kisses you.

it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.

you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.

you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.

and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.

you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.

you feel guilty.

you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.

“boys like him are trouble.”

the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.

you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.

you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”

he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”

you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.

“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”

he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.

you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.

you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.

this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.

—

the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.

your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.

you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.

there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.

“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.

he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.

you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”

he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.

there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.

“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”

you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.

“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.

he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.

“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.

you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.

his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.

you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.

“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.

he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”

and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.

the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.

when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.

“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.

he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”

for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.

—

after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.

friday the 15th

the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.

your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.

“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.

you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.

but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.

after school -

he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”

“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”

you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”

his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”

you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.

before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.

“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.

he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—

“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”

and you know you will.

saturday night -

you get a text from him.

haechan: come outside

your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…

your fingers hover over your phone.

you: are you insane?

haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.

you hesitate. but only for a second.

and then, for the first time, you take the risk.

—

the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.

he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.

his eyes flicker down, lingering.

you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.

his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”

you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.

you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”

his smirk deepens. “not even close.”

“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.

his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”

your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.

you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”

he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”

you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.

he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”

you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.

but you don’t.

“…maybe a little.”

his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.

“thought so.”

before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.

you don’t.

he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”

you swallow. “why?”

his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.

“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”

—

you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.

but you don’t let go.

“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”

“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.

he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”

and for some reason, you do.

—

the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.

he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.

“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”

haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”

you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.

then he breaks the silence.

“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”

your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.

you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.

but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.

“…i don’t know,” you admit.

he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”

you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”

he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.

“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”

your breath catches.

you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.

—

the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.

your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.

except it has.

because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.

and the worst part?

you didn’t want it to end.

you go through the day pretending everything is normal.

you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.

and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.

“you’ve been distracted all morning.”

you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.

“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.

she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”

your heart stops. “what?”

your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”

your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”

your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”

“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”

you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”

your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”

your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.

but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.

and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.

haechan: you up, sunshine?

you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.

you: yeah, why?

his reply comes instantly.

haechan: meet me? same spot.

your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.

you: be there in 10.

—

the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.

his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.

“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.

you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”

he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”

you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”

nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”

you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.

“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”

he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”

the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”

he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”

you swallow. why did you?

you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.

but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—

you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.

“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.

—

after that night, something shifts.

it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.

one night turns into another. and then another.

sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.

and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.

—

you find yourself around him more at school, too.

it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.

but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.

and you let him.

because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.

—

the nights are different. the nights are yours.

sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.

sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.

and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.

it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.

“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.

and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.

the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.

but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.

there’s a night where he lingers.

where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.

where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.

where you let him.

because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.

because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.

—

it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.

his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.

he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.

his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.

and you let yourself fall into it.

your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.

“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.

you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.

his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—

but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—

you don’t want to stop.

“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.

you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.

“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.

and you should. you should.

instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”

his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.

“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”

but he doesn’t stop.

and neither do you.

—

when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.

you don’t want him to.

but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.

your parents are just down the hall.

he shouldn’t even be here.

“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.

he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.

“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”

but neither of you move.

his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.

“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.

you know you have to let him go.

but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.

“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.

one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.

but eventually, he does.

he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.

“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.

you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.

he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.

and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.

“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.

and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.

except—he was.

you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.

it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.

you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.

but you are.

and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.

—

it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.

his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.

you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.

“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.

he grins against your lips. “that was you.”

“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”

he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”

“someone has to.”

“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.

you exhale, whispering a word of approval.

he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—

knock.

the door swings open.

“what are you doing—?”

you freeze.

haechan freezes.

your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.

for a second, no one moves.

no one breathes.

haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.

you don’t dare turn around.

your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.

your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.

“downstairs. now.”

the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.

haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.

because this time, you’re really in trouble.

—

▸ j.note ; finally releasing this lmao it’s been in the sm basement for quite some time now

[blue-jisungs]

dandelion

author's note. i saw those pics and howled how is he so husband coded..... also decided to post this on his e word day to cheer up us all:(

summary. you feel a little down when your husband seems interested in another woman... but maybe that's your pregnancy causing unnecessary drama in your head

warnings. reader is pregnant<3 slight angst bc reader is hard on herself regarding her looks:( jealousy + mentioned drinking (not reader!!!! never drink while pregnant!!!!), haechan being a lil mean but he doesnt mean it lmao

word count. 1582

jaehyun was helping in the kitchen and laughter was booming from the room whereas you and the others sat in the living room, waiting. 

“the food was so good” you sighed dreamily, rubbing your tummy in a satisfied motion and a  huge smile. 

“i bet she liked it too, huh?” jungwoo snickered, pointing at your stomach.

“oh yes she did. she’s a meat lover after daddy” you giggled and patted your baby bump gently. 

“you inhaled that bbq, we thought there’d be nothing left” haechan giggled and mark nudged his elbow.

“dude!�� he hissed, sending you an apologetic smile. 

you just scoffed, shaking your head. 

“no, no, he’s right. it’s the baby you know. sorry” you mumbled and yuta plopped down next to you. 

“don’t apologize, he’s just not too much of a thinker” he teased and rubbed his own stomach too “man, i’m full”

“drinks!” doyoung waltzed into the room, balancing a platter. the ice in the elegant glasses clinked, colorful beverages shining in the sun falling through the huge window. 

johnny put down a bowl of chips. 

“ah, i’ve been waiting for that” yuta hummed like a purring cat and snatched the drink the second doyoung placed them down. 

“and an orange juice for a special lady” jaehyun appeared in front of you and handed you the glass. it had ice and a paper umbrella in it, a slice of lemon adorning the edge. 

you sent him a soft smile, puckering your lips in a pout. that’s a habit you developed ever since your pregnant belly started being too restrictive. it was a sign for ‘i wanna kiss you but i can’t move’

he leaned closer and planted a sweet kiss on your lips, knowing what you meant. 

“i wanna drink too…” you joked, pouting like a kicked puppy. 

“one more month baby” jaehyun said softly, sending you a reassuring smile. 

the evening went on, chatting and joking accompanied by the football match they were watching. 

you were slowly dozing off, partly paying attention to what they were saying. 

“y/n is almost as round as the ball now, look!” donghyuck giggled and your eyes snapped open at the mention of your name. 

“i wonder if your belly if bigger than a ball… i’d say it’s rather a basketball size, huh?” jungwoo pondered. 

a bitter pang overtook your heart. you know they didn’t mean it to sound rude but you couldn’t help but wonder if you’re really that… big… and round… and apparently so easy to target, too. 

jaehyun caught your unfazed expression and clicked his tongue. 

“you remind me of a ball too. your fuckass big head–“ he joked at haechan and everyone laughed, including you. 

and when you went to the bathroom, you missed jaehyun taking the youngest to the side. 

“do we have everything, baby?” your husband asked, pushing the cart. you looked at your notes, not even halfway checked. 

“we barely entered the mart” you grunted and looked up at him. his dimples poked in a boyish smile. 

“anything you’re craving right now, misses” he teased and you rolled your eyes. 

you may or may have not sneaked some of your pregnancy cravings into the cart but you didn’t think he’d notice. 

“shut up. it’s our girl, not me” you huffed dramatically and wrapped your hands around his arm. 

suddenly, a pretty girl appeared in the aisle. she had long, silky blonde hair and was wearing a really cute outfit. it displayed her long legs and the crop top she was wearing exposed her flat stomach. her face was perfect, makeup glowing like a model. 

you sulked upon seeing her figure. you missed your old body. you missed being able to walk around in outfits like these. hell, even fitting in jeans was out of your reach now. 

you realized that when she passed you by, jaehyun turned his head to look at her. 

wave of sadness washed over you, slowly letting go of his arm. you didn’t blame him, though. you were nothing compared to her. big belly, no makeup, hair in a normal ponytail. you haven’t dressed up in a while – and even if you did, you wouldn’t look like you would before. 

“i don’t feel too good. i’ll go back to the car” you mumbled, feeling like crying. you wanted to hide from the world… from your own husband. 

jaehyun’s features dropped in instant worry, turning to you.

“are you okay? i’ll drive you home. do you need to see a doctor?” he asked, panic in his voice. 

“i’m… no, i’m fine! just finish the shopping, ill wait in the car” you grunted and gave him your phone with the list, turning around on your heel. 

he has never ran enough a grocery shop so fast in his entire life. 

after almost sprinting to the car and loading the bags, he hopped in and scanned your face in search of pain. there was always a risk of you giving birth sooner than expected so he was just extremely cautious. 

he noticed your swollen eyes and wet tears. maybe it was just the hormones, it’s not like you haven’t cried before because he just killed a fly. (“what if that fly was pregnant too? what if it was a working father? what if–”) 

he started the car and reached out to grab your hand. you just played with his fingers to ease your nerves, a silent drive home. 

for the past two days jaehyun had a feeling that you were avoiding him. you’ve been either sleeping all day or hiding away in your bedroom. 

at the end of the day jaehyun decided to talk to you. but upon walking into the room, he saw you sitting at the edge of the bed. your loose shirt was slightly up, your fingers tracking red stretch marks on the side of your stomach. 

“hey baby, what’s up?” he hummed, walking up to you “we haven’t talked in a while, hm? everything okay?” 

you sighed and just pulled the shirt down, covering your belly completely. 

“look at me pretty, come on” he was starting to get worried. kneeling down to settle between your looks, he noticed your teary eyes.  

“i just feel so gross, you know?” you mumbled, gently rubbing your tummy. jaehyun sighed softly, relieved to hear that you’re not in physical pain. he put one of his hands on your knee, rubbing it in a soothing motion “like i know it’s inevitable but everyone keeps making comments and… and i just miss my old body. it may never be the same… and… it’s just dumb”

“don’t listen to haechan, he’s still a kid. he doesn’t know what he’s talking about” jaehyun said, trying to ease the tension 

“i saw the way you looked at the girl, in the store” you mumbled, lips quivering. he furrowed his brows and realization hit him like a ton of bricks. but before he could explain, you went on “and i get it, i’m so ugly now, i don’t even dress up. i can’t even put anything else than sweatpants… and don’t even mention heels. i get you.”

“oh honey… she had a cute outfit, that’s why i looked. i think you have a similar top, by the way. but also, i agree, i turned my head but… her face seemed familiar. you know that it was johnny’s ex?”

“what?” you asked, finally looking at him. the cute dimple smile painted his cheeks as he nodded.

“yeah. i just, i don’t know, was so shocked it was her so i just turned around. but not to check her out or anything. because you are–” he started.

“wait, the one with a foot fetish?!” you asked suddenly. 

jaehyun snorted loudly, hanging his head low. and here he was about to be romantic.

“yeah, her” he snickered and looked back up “but my point is, i only have my eyes on you. we both knew that pregnancy will change your body and i admire you so much. you’re so strong. and just know that, whether or not you will go back to your shape… the stretch marks will stay… will grow old and wrinkled… i will love you. those things don’t matter to me”

you shook your head and pulled the shirt over your face, something you did when too embarrassed to cry. and you did, small sobs choking out from under the material.

“you look beautiful to me. you’re carrying our baby girl and you really glow, to me” jaehyun said and stood up, hands going to rest on your shoulders.

“i love you” you cried and put your shirt down only to wrap your hands around his waist and sob into his shirt. he rubbed your skin in a calming way. 

“i love you more, pretty girl” he whispered into your hair.

after you’ve calmed down he helped you lay down and tucked you in. jaehyun laid down next to you and rested his head on his hand, adoring you with a soft smile.

“got it? you’re the prettiest” he hummed and placed a soft kiss on your lips. then, his hand sneaked to lift your shirt a bit.

he traced the red stretch marks with a feather-light touch and then put his hand gently on your belly. he felt small movements and warm feeling spilled over his heart.

“and i bet she’ll be equally beautiful, my little dandelion” your husband whispered softly. and you couldn’t help but grin, looking at his whipped state.

nct masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @w3bqrl ,,

@eternalgyu,, @haecien ,, @slytherinshua + event: @rubywonu

[luviestarz]

lee haechan fic recs! part 2 ❤︎

note! : used all the old fics i could find that i enjoyed

❤︎ Love at First Bite…literally!? - @huangberryyy (Wherein Haechan finally gets the chick flick moment he dreamt of. Or wherein Haechan finally understands the appeal of being bitten by bitches.)

❤︎ the bet - @tyonfs (you and lee donghyuck created a bet that stated you two would have sex if he made the winning shot. now, you’re pinned up against the lockers, about to do the one thing best friends don’t do, and you definitely shouldn’t be wanting more.)

❤︎ Babe Watch [M]  - @milfgyuu (You and Haechan both have big plans this summer. You’re going to earn yourself a spot on the infamous Baywatch team and Haechan’s deadset on getting the girl. It just so happens that both your plans intersect quite nicely.)

❤︎ [8:02pm] - @nctsworld (in which a spontaneous dance in the kitchen with donghyuck sparks a revelation about how you feel about him.)

❤︎ beware the panty perv ♡ ldh x reader - @guanana (there’s a mystery at hand! it seems like your panties have been vanishing into thin air whenever you need them most? angry that your favorite pairs of panties are going missing, you decide to put on your detective hat in hopes of finding the mysterious lingerie bandit. but between all of the guys that you sleep with— you can’t seem to pinpoint who the culprit could be. it couldn’t possibly be your absolute geek of a tutor for calculus, right? nah.)

❤︎ september 19. - @hyucks-archive

❤︎ SURE THING (L.DH) - @domjaehyun

❤︎ young gods (l.dh) - @606fm (in the midst of committing felonies in the dark, lee donghyuck—your literal partner in crime and ride or die for life—manages to snag your heart in the process without you even realizing it. i mean, what the hell did you expect from seoul city’s most notorious robber?)

❤︎ [7:43am] - @aesthyuckic

❤︎ haechan is obsessed with you. - @haechurch

❤︎ the right one. (m) - @starryhyuck (donghyuck doesn’t like you going on dates with anyone else, especially lee jeno. you’re supposed to be his. and only his.)

❤︎ meow haechan using a lot of tongue meow meow  - @ofjunemoment (or: you’re thinking of getting a tongue piercing, but you’re not sure how haechan feels)

❤︎ attention - @pinkynana (gamer boys are the easiest target for you. they barely interact with any other woman so the moment you find out haechan was a gamer boy, you promised to sit on his lap any time he wanted to.)

❤︎ free falling - @sunpopz (your friend haechan has been acting kinda weird lately.. does it have anything to do with you? maybe it does, considering he keeps looking at you like you're gonna kill him any second. well, that and he randomly liked a three month old picture of you.)

❤︎ haechan — just for you (m) - @hyuckmov (because haechan thought you were irresistible when you were clever, if only because he knew he was the only one who could make your brain go empty.)

❤︎ Started With A Kiss - @sundaysundaes (Rookie actor, Lee Haechan, desperately wants to get the lead role in the highly anticipated upcoming TV drama. He’s sure he has what it takes to fill the part. Acting as a hero? No problem. Pretending to overcome his traumatic experience? Consider it done. A bed scene? Easy—wait, no. That might be a problem. But he should be fine as long as he gets to rehearse, right?)

❤︎ if I lose my mind - @slightlymore (you’ve never cared much for your dreams. they were always confusing nonsense you forgot in the morning. this until you started to have the same dream again and again and again: a lobby, pleasant elevator music in the background, many golden doors, a handsome young man welcoming you and asking where you wanted to go that night. his name was haechan and apparently you weren’t supposed to know that, let alone fall in love with him.)

❤︎ this is the story of how we fell in love, apparently. - @navyhyuck (running a youtube channel with your best friend isn’t easy, not when he’s like a ticking time bomb that’s constantly bubbling up something new. what’s worse is that you’ve had a crush on him for the past three years.)

❤︎ face sitting - @haetkeeper

❤︎ pervert (M) - @haechannielove (you confront haechan on his disgusting and constant objectification of you.)

❤︎ Pearlescent - @d-nghy-ck (A shoreline sunset spent cozied up against Hyuck dives deep past surface level. His lips profess his heart’s intent; his eyes reflect waves dancing in iridescent glimmers; his love whispered into your skin evokes heated passion.) 

❤︎ i love it, starboy - @staargirlblog (slight yandere! idol! haechan x fangirl! reader)

❤︎ college boyfriend!haechan - @lvlyynim

❤︎ perv!haechan - @4everhyucks

❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)

[v1si0n]

LOVE ON THE (DANCE) FLOOR⚡️(L.JN)

SUMMARY: jeno was not thrilled about you joining his dance team, especially because he starts messing up every time you’re around. is it really his fault that he gets distracted by how good you look when you dance?

GENRE: smau, enemies to lovers, fluff, humor, angst, college au, dancer!jeno x bookworm!reader

WARNINGS: jeno is kinda mean, profanity, jokes about death, sexual jokes, slightly suggestive, inaccurate depictions of the majors that are mentioned, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of (mild) illness/injury, mentions of hard childhood/trauma

PLAYLIST: daddy issues by the neighborhood, safety net by ariana grande (ft. ty dolla $ign), you get me so high by the neighborhood, i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys, lie to girls by sabrina carpenter, stargazing by the neighborhood

NOTES: hiiiiiiii i know i just posted jgmar like two weeks ago but i’m back with ANOTHER smau bc i cant stfu so strap yourselves in and lets get freak nasty‼️ special thanks to babygirl @domjaehyun for helping me with the banner💞💞💞

TAGLIST: open !!! please lmk if you’d like to be added :)

Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑) Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

profiles(1): the dancers

profiles(2): the “nerds”

intro: donghyuck she’s SIX

ch.1: hater alert🚨

ch.2: girl…self respect..?

ch.3: tldr: i got jumped.

ch.4: in this house we stan winter.

ch.5: drama o clock🍿

ch.6: since we’re lying now…

ch.7: odd…peculiar even…

ch.8: jeno is a liar and a half.

ch.9: 1 step forward, 3 steps back

ch.10: the bells are ringing

ch.11: NOT jeffree star approved

ch.12: and the crowd is…concerned

ch.13: winter and y/n’s dorm📍

ch.14: geeking and tweaking

ch.15: get a load of this guy

ch.16: the cat distribution system

ch.17: okay guys what the flip…

ch.18: me and the voices

ch. 19: having a what on who😟

ch.20: anyone else scared?

ch.21: if i could fly

[viasdreams]

Nightwalker ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

'No human blood' is an extremely grueling rule for Donghyuck to live by, his fledgling vampire urges consuming his every thought. Some days, he finds himself struggling to hold onto his humanity, constantly fighting against his insatiable cravings. His human facade slips one night when he passes you, your bloody hand unknowingly guiding his monstrous actions.

or haechan accidentally sucks your blood and drama ensues

pairing: vampire haechan x fem! human reader

genre: social media alternative universe (smau), comedy, fantasy, angst

warnings: slight gore, lots of talk about blood, profanity, sex jokes, jokes about death, actual death (not character death but all the vampires are technically dead) kys/kms jokes

a/n: ahhh my first smau !! is this an excuse to make jokes about that favorite era pic of haechan? YES IT IS !! this will be a very silly story and not like horror/serious just so we're clear, i just liked the black aesthetic lol. ill still be posting one-shot texts so don't worry your pretty little heads :))

status: ongoing !!

taglist: open !!

profiles (1) ~ profiles (2)

01 milkies boy 02 live tweeting his crash out 03 hyuck finally kicking the bucket (written) 04 one wet dream about mark 05 ive read some nasty fanfic about him 06 r u jorking my shit rn?!?! 07 ok throat goat!! (written) 08 bad case of the squirts 09 clock crazy hours on the toilet 10 raises gun to mouth 11 my girl weiner hard rn 12 you're going shit butt 13 NEED one to maul me 14 the hottest of all the smurfs 15 plz shoot me and not with that gun (written) 16 main ingredient in that yummy manwich 17 do you know how to tie a noose? 18 i hope you get roofied every day!! 19 im jisung, your new owner (written) 20 bleeding in my tweak zone 21 especially you anime mfs 22 just lost all desire to cum 23 chugged a thing of toilet bowl cleaner (written) 24 hyuck's unbrushed tongue 25 hot girls stay fartin 26 i wanna know what vamp dick feels like 27 contributing to my spank bank 28 fine ass dad (written) 29 he got you goonin 30 and what if i shaved my gooch 31 my girl looks like a bloody tampon 32 shes worth like six cows 33 that gummy yummy 34 eat that clam like its a tootsie pop 35 i love ingesting white creamy stuff 36 what if she wants to peg you? (written) 37 mpreg is very real

after: route one ~ route two

bonus: who's blood/dick do i have to suck | im not a sexbot, just a guy | yank on their peanits / die from lack of dick

[winwintea]

hey mr. dj (keep playing this song for me)

PAIRING ↬ secret agent!lee donghyuck x reader

TAGS ↬ action, drama, romance, haechan past revealed he's actually a secret agent omg, mark is in this too, there's a cult that steals bones from people, but still happy ending for hyuck/n i'm not that mean

WARNINGS ↬ bone stealing cult, character death, multiple character death actually, cult does some supernatural stuff idk

SUMMARY ↬ they have his bones.

WORD COUNT ↬ 4.2k+

AUTHOR’S NOTE ↬ ITS HERE!!!!!! this took me so long to edit and it's still bad i apologize. it's actually a sequel to another fic i wrote called the call. you can read this as a standalone if you want, the plots are wildly different. not sure if i would really call this a sequel bc it's more of a prequel then sequel. i wasn't inspired by +82 pressing lol (i wrote this mostly before it came out) but the mv kinda similar so i'll put it here still. title is from the backstreet boys song!

THE STEADY BEEPING OF MACHINES FILLS THE HOSPITAL ROOM.

“Hey… I’m here. I’ve been waiting for you,” a soft, familiar voice whispers from beside his bed.

Slowly, Haechan’s eyelids flutter open, revealing a world of bright white lights and the persistent hum of medical equipment surrounding him. His body aches and he blinks away the disorientation that clouds his vision.

There you sit, quietly in a worn armchair, your hand gently clasping his. Despite the pain, his heart stutters with relief.

“Y/N… what happened?” he rasps, his voice raw and hoarse.

You squeeze his hand, a small smile of reassurance on your lips, though your eyebags reveal the worry that has shadowed your face. “I was so scared, but I’m glad you’re awake now,” you murmur, brushing a tear from his cheek.

For a moment, the room falls silent except for the persistent beeps of the monitor. Haechan’s gaze drifts upward, the brief flash of regret and unspoken sorrow passes over his face.

You lean in closer, sensing that behind his pain lies a story you have only glimpsed. “You don’t have to tell me everything right now,” you whisper, careful not to press too hard. “Just rest. I’m here for you.”

Haechan’s hand tightens around yours, “I…I wish I could remember,” he admits, his voice barely audible.

Suddenly a memory comes to Haechan in vivid, sunlit hues. A gentle recollection of a day when the world felt delightfully simple.

Inside a quaint, warmly lit café, soft indie tunes play in the background while the aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirls around the cozy space. Haechan remembers how he hesitated at the door, his heart pounding in anticipation as he scanned the room. That’s when he saw you, sitting by the window with a book in hand and a genuine smile that seemed to light up the entire place.

Taking a deep breath, he made his way over, rehearsing a greeting in his head. When he reached your table, he couldn’t help but grin awkwardly. “Hi… I’m Haechan,” he began, his voice laced with a mix of shyness and determination. “This might be weird, but I thought you looked really cute and… ugh do normal guys do this?”

You looked up, your laughter light and genuine as you set your book aside. “Normal? I doubt it,” you teased, your eyes twinkling, “What can I do for you Haechan?”

Haechan chuckled, feeling the warmth of his cheeks wash over him. “I’m just here for the best cup of coffee this place can serve. And maybe, if you’re not too busy, for some company.”

You smiled, sliding your chair a bit closer. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to be an expert in both coffee and conversation. So, what’s your secret? Are you a professional coffee taster by any chance?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, nothing like that. I just appreciate a good cup of coffee—and a good laugh. Though, I must admit, I’ve had my share of… adventures.”

Your eyes widened playfully. “Oh? I suspected you were hiding something exciting behind that calm smile. Maybe I’ll hear about your ‘adventures’ some day.”

Haechan’s gaze softened as he appreciated your genuine interest. “Maybe one day,” he whispered, the corners of his mouth tilting up in a secretive smile. Yet in that moment, the only truth he needed was the simple joy of being with you.

For the rest of that afternoon, the two of you talked about everything and nothing—favorite movies, the pros and cons of the city, even the best recipies to try. The conversation flowed effortlessly, all the while, Haechan’s mind danced between the present and the shadows of a past he was desperate to leave behind. 

As the café began to empty and the golden afternoon light slowly faded into the promise of evening, Haechan found himself wishing the day would never end. In your laughter and gentle teasing, he discovered, sometimes life’s simplest moments were the most extraordinary of all.

The fluorescent lights in the safehouse flicker intermittently, casting a stark glow over scattered maps, dossiers, and a well-worn leather jacket draped over a chair. Haechan sits across from Mark at a cluttered table, a steaming cup of coffee between them, the air seems thick with tension.

Mark leans forward, his eyes sharp behind dark glasses even in the dim light. “We’ve got a new target,” he announces, “The Bone Maestros. They’re a cult that takes bones as payment for debts.”

Haechan arches an eyebrow, a dry smile tugging at his lips as he sips his coffee. “A cult is crazy. Bones, huh? At least they’re upfront about their currency,” he quips, though his voice carries the undercurrent of grim determination. “Maybe they wanted someBODY to love.”

“Dude, shut up.” Mark chuckles softly, shaking his head. “You always find a way to use a cringe joke while talking about serious shit.” His smile fades as he slides a dossier toward Haechan. “This isn’t a joke, though. Their methods are ancient, twisted, and ruthless. We need to stop them before they claim any more victims.”

Haechan studies the file, as Mark points out various details on the map.

“They’ve been operating in the shadows for years,” Mark explains. “Every debt, every betrayal—they demand a price in bones. It’s for ritualistic purposes apparently.”

Haechan leans back, his mind racing through past missions and the scars they left. Despite the danger, he can’t help but appreciate the irony. “You know,” he muses, half to himself, “after everything, I never imagined my greatest enemy would be a bunch of bone collectors. Like do we work at the museum or something?”

Mark grins, the tension easing slightly. “We’re targeting two key players tonight—Karina and Giselle. They’re scheduled to appear at that notorious nightclub downtown.”

Haechan nods, the gears in his mind turning as he visualizes the mission. “I guess it’s time to put on our best disguises, huh? No bones about it.”

Mark laughs, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “That was so stupid, please don’t ever say that again. We need to be focused.” His expression turns solemn again as he adds, “Just remember, this isn’t a game. Every decision counts, and we’re in deeper than ever.”

The nightclub feels like a living, breathing beast. In a secluded corner away from the chaotic swirl of bodies on the dance floor, Haechan sits with Mark at a small table. The atmosphere is charged with the thrill of the night, yet a rare moment of calm hovers between them.

Haechan’s gaze drifts across the room, where you stand, bathed in the flickering neon glow. In that fleeting moment, the tumult of his secret life softens into a quiet, desperate hope. I've had enough of the violence. I wish this night would never end… maybe then I could have a normal life with you. 

After you seem to notice him, you beckon him over as he rises and makes his way through the crowd. Mark catches Haechan’s determined look and throws him a teasing glance.

When Haechan reaches you, he leans in with a warm, disarming smile. “Tonight, I just want to forget the chaos… and maybe, for a little while, be just another guy on a date,” he says, his voice low and sincere. 

You chuckle softly, thinking he’s just saying things, meeting his earnest gaze with playful defiance. “And what happens when reality comes crashing back?” you tease.

For a suspended moment, the cacophony of the club seems to fade, replaced by the quiet beat of your shared heartbeat. “I pray it never does”.

From across the table, Mark arches an eyebrow and smirks, his silent encouragement a reminder that while the mission looms in the background, haechan can have his fantasy, if only for a moment.

“Mark, behind you!” Haechan shouted, as he dove for cover behind a stack of crates. In a narrow corridor behind the nightclub, Haechan and Mark moved with calculated precision. They were just steps away from their target when the ambush struck. 

Mark was already reacting. He pulled Haechan up with a firm grip on his arm, their eyes locking for a brief moment. But before either could recover, a hail of bullets erupted from the shadows. 

“Keep moving!” Mark roared above the din, his voice gruff. Haechan scrambled to his feet, mind racing with the only thought of survival. They darted through a maze of narrow alleys and twisted passageways, trying desperately to shake off their unseen assailants. 

Yet, fate had other plans.

In the midst of a particularly sharp turn, a sharp crack echoed, followed by a searing pain in Mark’s side. 

Time seemed to halt as Haechan spun around, eyes wide with horror. Mark staggered, clutching his wound, his face contorted in agony.

“Mark!” Haechan cried, dropping to his knees beside his partner. “Hold on, please… stay with me!” He tore off a strip of cloth from his own shirt, pressing it desperately against the wound. 

Mark’s eyes, usually so full of unyielding confidence, now shimmered with a mix of pain and resignation. “Haechan,” he managed, his voice weak and slurred, “I… I can’t… keep going.” His hand gripped Haechan, “Finish this… for both of us.”

“You promised… we’d do this together.” Haechan’s fingers trembled as he attempted to stem the flow of blood, his vision blurring at the edges with unshed tears.

But the chaos around them wouldn’t let him linger in grief for long. The ambush was relentless, and even as Haechan’s heart shattered, he knew that every second counted. In a final moment, Mark’s grip slackened. His eyes shut, and with a final whisper, “Please… go be with that girl, will you…?”he was gone.

The world around Haechan spun in a maelstrom of noise and fury. Every instinct screamed for revenge, for justice, for closure. He refocuses on the enemy before him. Emerging from the shifting shadows, Karina appears, eyes filled with no regret or remorse.

“Haechan,” she hisses, voice laced with malice as she lunges forward with a serrated blade glinting in the strobe lights. Every instinct in Haechan screams at him to retaliate, and with a ferocity born of grief and determination, he raises his weapon.

In a blur of motion, the world narrows to the sound of rapid gunfire. 

The first bullet finds its mark in Karina’s shoulder, eliciting a grunt. 

The second slams into her chest, the impact rattling the steel of her resolve. 

The final shot, a brutal punctuation, seals her fate.

Karina staggers, a look of shocked disbelief etched on her face as she crumples to the ground, her eyes wide before slowly closing.

For a split second, the chaos pauses. The only sound is the fading echo of gunfire and Haechan’s own ragged breathing. 

At that moment, Giselle, who had been lurking silently in the periphery, watching with a calculating gaze, realizes the tide has turned. Her smirk falters as she watches Karina fall. Without a word, she retreats into the labyrinth of darkened corridors, her footsteps fading into the distance as she vanishes from the scene.

Haechan stands alone amid the shattered remnants of the confrontation. His heart hammers in his chest as he surveys the grim aftermath, the echoes of his shots still reverberating in his ears. The cold reality of what he has just done settles over him—a brutal act carried out in the name of survival and vengeance.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath, the memory of Mark’s final words fueling his resolve. “I’m sorry, Mark,” he murmurs, voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “I promise… I’ll make them pay.

After the adrenaline of battle faded, Haechan found himself alone on a rooftop overlooking the city. The cool night air did little to soothe the rage burning in his heart. Every raindrop that fell seemed to echo the memories of Mark’s final moments, each one a reminder of a bond shattered in the chaos from before.

Haechan sat on the edge of the rooftop, knees drawn close as he stared down at the shimmering cityscape below. The neon lights flickered like distant stars. In the solitude of that moment, he allowed himself to remember the life he once dreamed of. Of peace. Of silence. 

I can’t keep living like this, he thought, his heart heavy with regret and exhaustion.

A familiar voice echoed in his memory—the soft, steady reassurance of you.

“Maybe… maybe I deserve more than this,” he whispered to the rain, his voice barely audible over the patter of water on concrete. His mind raced with visions of a future where he wasn’t forced to hide behind layers of secrecy. A future where he could wake up next to you, share coffee in the early morning light, and forget about the chaos that had defined his past.

In that reflective silence, Haechan made a decision. He would resign from the covert world. He longed to trade in the weight of his past for a chance at normalcy, to finally embrace the warmth of a simple, unburdened life with you.

With a slow, deliberate breath, Haechan reached for his phone. His fingers trembled as he opened a secure message thread: a final communication to his superiors, a message that would sever his ties to a world of darkness. An apology for the life he was leaving behind, and a firm statement that he would never return to that endless cycle of violence.

Before sending the message, he paused, his thoughts drifting back to Mark. “I promise I’ll honor your memory by living the life we never had,” he murmured softly. “I’ll find peace—if only for both of us.” The resolve in his voice was resolute, carrying with it both sorrow and the spark of a new beginning.

The message sent, Haechan let the phone fall from his grasp. And as he looked up at the stars, Haechan vowed that no matter how difficult the road ahead might be, he would fight for the future he deserved.

[The Night of the Attack]

The night was thick with neon haze and the steady pulse of electronic beats—a temporary escape from the dark corridors of Haechan’s past. He’d joined his friends at a downtown club, hoping the laughter and the reckless rhythm of the evening might drown out the memories he’d worked so hard to bury. Glasses clinked and bodies swayed on the dance floor, yet every so often, a shadow of Mark’s loss would cross his mind, a reminder that the violence he’d left behind was never truly gone.

Between bursts of forced smiles and half-hearted jokes, Haechan lingered on the fringes of the revelry. He laughed at his friends’ teasing remarks, even when his heart wasn’t fully in it. “Come on, man, loosen up,” one of them urged, clapping him on the back. But Haechan’s thoughts were elsewhere.

Lost in this inner turmoil, he barely registered the vibration of his phone until it jolted him from his reverie. He pulled it from his pocket, expecting a routine message, only to see an unfamiliar number flash on the screen. His stomach knotted as he hesitated, then swiped open the message thread. The screen displayed a cryptic, jumbled text:

“…they have my bones.”

For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Haechan’s pulse pounded so loudly he was sure his friends could hear it. His breath hitched. The number was one he recognized all too well—Mark’s old number. But Mark was gone. The icy realization that the Bone Maestros might have taken something so integral, even symbolic, from his fallen partner sent a shiver down his spine.

His mind raced—was it a warning? A trap? Or a final message from the man he’d lost? The implications were chilling. In the secret, twisted rituals of the Bone Maestros, the bones of their victims weren’t mere remains; they were tokens of debt, relics imbued with a dark power that defied nature itself.

“Hey, you alright?” Jaemin suddenly asked, leaning in as he noticed Haechan’s sudden change in demeanor.

Haechan recollects himself, a forced smile plastered on his face. “Man, I’m good,” he says, leaning into a laugh that sounds more brittle than genuine. “Just needed a minute to catch my breath, you know?” His friends nod and tease him, unaware of the tempest raging beneath his calm facade.

Yet, as the night deepens and the neon haze thickens, a flicker of recognition strikes him like a lightning bolt. He recalls that mysterious woman from earlier at the bar—the sultry flirtation he’d so casually dismissed. It wasn’t random at all. In the shadowed corner of his memory, her eyes had burned with a dangerous intensity, a promise of unfinished business.

Haechan’s inner voice hisses, She wasn’t here for a casual chat... she’s Giselle. Fuck. The realization claws at him. The very woman he’d brushed off earlier. He only assumed she was determined to reclaim what the Bone Maestros believed was owed, and her supernatural grasp over the bones of their victims was just one of her many weapons.

Lost in thought, he nearly misses her arrival until she steps out from behind a pillar, her gaze fixed on him like a predator stalking her prey. Her eyes flash with a cold resolve that sends shivers down his spine. Giselle’s lips curve into a sinister smile as she approaches him through the swirling crowd.

“Hello, Haechan,” she purrs, her voice smooth yet laced with undeniable menace. “I was hoping we’d meet again tonight.”

Haechan’s heart pounds, and for a moment, his carefully maintained facade cracks. Around him, his friends laugh and chatter obliviously, still convinced that he’s merely enjoying the night. But in that instant, the vibrant pulse of the club becomes a stark contrast to the dark undercurrent of fate closing in on him.

“Giselle,” he replies, the name tasting bitter on his tongue. His voice is steady, though his inner turmoil rages like a storm. “What do you want?” His tone is curt, laced with both fear and resignation.

She leans in close, her eyes gleaming with a mix of triumph and wrath. “I’ve come to collect what is mine,” she whispers, “You know the price, Haechan. The Bone Maestros never forget their debts.”

For a fleeting heartbeat, Haechan’s mind floods with the disjointed messages and memories: Mark’s desperate words, the cryptic text about his bones, and the knowledge of supernatural forces beyond his control. The realization is as paralyzing as it is inevitable. Giselle is not merely a random woman, but the harbinger of his past catching up to him.

Around him, his friends remain blissfully unaware, their easy banter a painful reminder of the life he longs to lead. The safe haven he’s built in pretending that everything is fine is crumbling, and the cost of that facade becomes all too clear.

Giselle’s grip tightens on his arm, her touch both seductive and dangerous. “Come with me, Haechan,” she commands softly. “There’s so much we need to settle, and I promise you, it won’t hurt… too much.”

The choice stands before him like a jagged chasm. Every instinct screams to run, to hide from the darkness that has come to claim him. Yet, beneath the terror, a cold, calculated determination begins to take hold. By agreeing to accompany her, he might buy time—time to figure out a way to neutralize this threat and perhaps salvage a fragment of the future he’s dared to imagine with you.

“I… I have to go with you,” Haechan admits, his voice barely above a whisper, heavy with reluctant resignation. “Can I make a quick call? It’s to my girlfriend. I won’t tell her anything. Then I promise I’ll come with no struggle.” His words are laced with sorrow as he steals one last, agonizing glance at his friends before turning back to face her again.

Giselle’s smile widens, predatory and unnerving. “Alright,” she murmurs, almost caressing his words. “Let’s see if you can keep your promise, Haechan.”

“You always thought you could escape your past,” Giselle’s voice rings from his ears, “Now, you are mine to command.”

From her belt, she produces a length of rope-like material that shimmers with an otherworldly glow. Etched along its surface are archaic symbols that seem to writhe and shift in the dim light. As she advances, those symbols pulse like a heartbeat.

Giselle wraps the enchanted restraint around Haechan’s wrists and ankles. The ropes constrict with an almost sentient force, the glowing symbols intensifying their grip. 

Fuck. This isn’t how it should be, he screams internally. I must fight… I must break free. His muscles strain, and he lashes out with a flurry of blows, his fists connecting with the cold, unyielding restraint. But the ropes absorb his anger as if they were made of shadows, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

The chamber itself seems to close in around him. The walls, illuminated by the feeble glow of arcane symbols, reveal faded murals depicting ancient rituals—a macabre dance of sacrifice and retribution. The floor is littered with fragments of shattered glass and worst of all… bones. Of past victims, he presumed.

Giselle circles him like a predator, her gaze never leaving his face. “You can’t hide behind your strength or your secrets, Haechan,” she hisses, her tone a disconcerting mix of mockery and genuine threat. “I know all that you’ve tried to bury. And now, I’m here to reclaim what is owed.”

In response, Haechan grits his teeth and summons his remaining will. “I’m not yours to command,” he growls, voice raw with defiance despite the searing pain in his arms and legs. He manages to twist his torso, forcing a weak, yet determined punch toward her side. For a split second, hope sparks in his chest as Giselle stumbles, only for her to counter with a swift, brutal kick that slams into his ribcage, drawing a cry of agony.

The clash turns into a frenetic blur of desperate moves. 

Haechan’s strikes are fueled by the twin fires of vengeance and despair, while Giselle’s counters are as graceful as they are lethal. In the brawl, Haechan’s cheek is split open by a sudden swipe, and bruises start to appear across his arms. In return, a vicious blow finds its mark on Giselle’s jaw, causing her to stagger momentarily, a thin line of crimson trailing down her face.

Giselle, her eyes flashing with both fury and a twisted satisfaction, leans close once more. “You can fight, Haechan, but you can’t escape fate,” she murmurs, her lips stained with blood. “I’m here because the Bone Maestros demand it, and I… I must see this through.”

Haehcan refuses to surrender completely. In a desperate, last-ditch effort, he summons the resolve to break free, throwing himself against the nearest wall. 

The steady beep of machines returns, replacing the chaotic echoes of a nightmare with the soft, measured hum of the hospital ward. Haechan’s eyes flutter open to a familiar, gentle face hovering over him. You’re there, sitting by his bed with a mixture of relief and cautious concern. 

“Hey… Haechan,” You murmur, squeezing his hand tenderly. “I need to tell you something.” The words are soft, almost hesitant.

Haechan’s throat feels dry, his memory hazy and fragmented. In a quiet, remorseful tone, he manages, “What… what happened?” He feared for the worst. Were you breaking up with him? Did you know about his secret past, his past identity? Did Giselle tell you everything?

Your gaze drops to his eyes, searching for the familiar light you love, and speaks gently, “That woman you were with… she… she died of her injuries.” 

For a long moment, silence blankets the room. Then, in a voice laden with regret and reluctant confession, Haechan finally speaks. “I—I didn’t have a choice,” he stammers, his eyes darting away as if trying to hide the painful truth. “She… she blackmailed me into going with her. I had no time to think… I had no choice.” 

Your expression softens, though a hint of worry flickers in your eyes. Despite the vagueness of his confession, you clutched his hand tightly. “Haechan,” you whisper, “I’m just glad you’re safe. I don’t need to know every detail—as long as you’re here with me.”

In that quiet hospital room, filled with the steady rhythm of life’s persistence, the two of you share a fragile moment of connection. Your simple reassurance wraps around him like a protective blanket, soothing the tumult of guilt and regret swirling in his mind. Though Haechan’s heart remains heavy with the secrets of a dangerous past, in this moment, the promise of love still persists. 

But Haechan knew this was far from over. Giselle may have been dead but the Bone Maestros were not. The mystery of that text from Mark’s number still perplexed him. Who sent it? Was it Mark? Was it someone else? And if they did have Mark’s bones, what were they going to do with it?

In the final, silent moments before dawn, as the hospital room returns to its hushed stillness, Haechan’s haunted gaze shifts to the darkened hallway beyond. In that fleeting look, a promise of danger yet unresolved burns behind his eyes. The true peril is far from over, and the ghosts of his past are waiting in the shadows to reclaim what was once lost.

hehehehahaa

TAGLIST ↬ @lyvhie @aquaphoenixz @galacticnct @yizhrt @polarisjisung @multifandomania @spacejip @peterm4rker @viasdreams @mango-bear @yesohhsehun @theandypark @yuthabitz

[ofdreamsnwishes]

Sometimes you wondered if your boyfriend thought of himself as an extension of you. Going grocery shopping? You both can go together, he needed something from the store either way! Watching a movie? How could you possibly watch it without him?! Got up for a cup of water? He's there, drapped around you like a huge koala.

You don't really mind, most of the times, thinking it was cute that he'd want to spend his time with you. Still, you asked yourself if he was even aware of his... clinginess.

"I'm going to take a shower." You announced, tossing your phone to the side as you got up from the couch, streching your arms above your head. You and Donghyuck had settled on your couch for a movie marathon, one that lasted only until the second movie because he was just too 'bored' and decided that it was the perfect time to makeout. You guessed it was his plan since the beginning.

"Oh sure." Donghyuck got up with you, staring at you expectantly, as if waiting for you to head to the bathroom.

Ah, there it was.

"I said, I'm going to take a shower." You repeat yourself, putting emphasis on the 'I'm'.

"I heard you the first time. Let's go." He gave you a confused laugh, like yeah? What are you waiting for?

"Just me, Hyuck..." An incredulous chuckle left your lips. He looked dead serious.

"... And what are you doing there alone?" Ok, yeah, nevermind, he's playing dumb.

"Taking a shower...?"

"Without me?' A look of hurt flashes on his features, but you know better, he's just being dramatic. With a hand over his chest and a huge sigh he plops back on the couch, laying back on it. 'You don't love me anymore."

How old was he again? Ah yes, 23.

Rolling your eyes, amused at his antics, you let out a sigh of your own. "Fine, drama queen, get your ass up and let's shower."

You don't wait for him to answer and turn around, walking to the bathroom, not like you needed to, since you could hear his little giggles and the sound of him scurrying his way to you.

You, 0. Donghyuck? You lost the count.

[rik0shii]

late night haechan thoughts…..

The studio was quiet, save for the soft hum of the equipment and the faint melody that Haechan played on the keyboard. It was late—way past midnight—but this had become routine for the two of you. He thrived in these quiet hours, and you didn’t mind being his companion while he worked on his music.

You sat curled up on the couch, holding his notebook in your lap, flipping through pages of lyrics and messy doodles. Occasionally, you’d glance at him, the way his brows furrowed in concentration or how he lightly bit his lip when he was focused. The sight made your heart ache in the best way.

“I don’t know,” you said after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence. “The chorus feels like it’s missing something… maybe make the second line softer, like how you play it here.” You hummed the melody he’d been working on, tapping the page with your finger.

Haechan swiveled in his chair, turning to you with a playful grin. “Oh? My genius lover thinks they know better than me now? Should I put your name in the credits as my co-producer?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes as you threw a nearby crumpled napkin at him. “Hey, you asked me to stay and help, remember? Don’t act like you’re doing me a favor.”

He caught the napkin with a smirk, leaning back in his chair as he looked at you. “Oh, I know exactly why you’re here,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “You can’t resist me so you said yes and stayed with me. Admit it.”

“Lee Donghyuck,” you warned, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Don’t make me regret staying here instead of bingeing dramas in my warm bed.”

“Warm bed, huh?” he quipped, pushing himself off his chair and walking over to the couch. “Then I guess I should make this worth your while.”

Before you could respond, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. His warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin as he pulled back just enough to meet your wide-eyed gaze.

“You’re cute when you’re pretending to be mad,” he murmured, his voice softer now, a hint of affection laced into his usual playfulness.

Your cheeks burned, and you tried to cover it by nudging him away. “Stop trying to distract me with kisses! You have work to finish.”

He laughed, catching your hand before you could push him too far. “Oh, come on. I’ve been working on this for hours. Can’t I take a break with my favorite person?”

“favorite person huh?,” you muttered, but your voice softened as you glanced up at him. His eyes were filled with something deeper than his usual teasing, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” he said quietly, sitting down beside you on the couch. “Thank you for staying. Seriously. It’s… different when you’re here. I don’t feel so alone.”

The vulnerability in his tone caught you off guard, and for a moment, the late-night teasing faded into something more intimate. You reached out, brushing his hair away from his eyes. “You’re never alone, Haechan. You know that, right?”

His lips quirked into a small smile as he leaned closer, his forehead pressing gently against yours. “I know. It’s because I have you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, before he closed the distance and kissed you. It was soft, unhurried, and sweet, like he was pouring every unspoken word into it. His hand rested on the back of your neck, holding you close as if you might disappear.

When he finally pulled back, his smile was brighter, the usual spark in his eyes tinged with warmth. “Okay,” he said, his voice playful again. “Now I’m ready to make the best song ever. All thanks to my muse.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you shoved his shoulder lightly. “Go finish it, lover boy. I’m not letting you use me as an excuse to procrastinate.”

As he stood and returned to his keyboard, you couldn’t help but watch him with a fond smile. Even as he played through the melody again, occasionally glancing back at you with a grin, you knew this moment—these late nights with him—were something you’d cherish forever.

[ghostofhyuck]

NCT Dream when they're jealous towards your co-actor during an award show.

AN: In this scenario, dreamies and reader (actress! reader) are in a public relationship! enjoy! ^^

Mark Lee

You're a rising rookie actress but your acting for a rom-com series was a hit in Korea. So you were surprised that you and your co-actor won the best couple award. It's no denying that you two have chemistry. You have no choice but to receive the award together. The host keeps on teasing you two that you two look like a young couple BUT it suddenly shifted to Mark who's cluelessly clapping, when his face was shown to the screen, he was surprised, but he only gave an awkward smile and thumbs up. The Dreamies are teasing him from the background. When you gave your speech, you didn't forgot to mention Mark, showing to everyone that the award was nothing but for your acting. 

Huang Renjun

The host of the award show was known to be a drama-stirrer, so when your relationship with Renjun became public during the height of your career. He made sure to stir drama. You went to the award show your co-actor since your drama is still on-going. The host suddenly approached your table, asked your co-actor to compliment you, and he said something short like looking pretty tonight, and the host teased him for that. But then screen show Renjun who has a blank face written on his face, which made the host tease you and you're co-actor even more. You tried to dodge his answers and eventually he leaves you two. When the award show ended, you have to approach your boyfriend to apologize. "Don't worry, I know that you were uncomfy there too, that host was an asshole." 

Lee Jeno

You and your co-actor was the one who will announce the Daesang award. Since you two are still promoting your drama, you two made a short skit before announcing the winner. But your co-actor adlib something that was obvious that he's flirting with you, you awkwardly laughed it off and told him to just announce the winner. Fortunate to you, NCT Dream won the award. You watched your boyfriend and Dreamies go to the stage, one by one they bow at you, and you were about to bow again when Jeno hugs you suddenly. You were surprised but as he breaks the hug, he smiles at you before going to the rest of the Dreamies to receive the award. 

Lee Donghyuck

"Hope you're doing well, y/n-ah," your co-actor said before he announced the winner of an award. The camera shifted to you, and you tried your best to plaster a smile and wave the camera. But unexpectedly the camera went to Haechan who looks like he's glaring at someone. If it wasn't for the Dreamies, tapping his shoulders, it would be obvious that he's glaring at your co-actor. Haechan was quick to change his expression but gave a small smirk before clapping his hands, (even though there's nothing to clap about.) At the backstage, you have to assure him that he doesn't need to confront your co-actor. "I can't believe he's flirting with you when everyone knows that we're dating!"

Na Jaemin

It was at the red carpet. Coincidentally, Dreamies went right after you and your co-actor. Since your drama is going to air in a few days, the award show was a perfect opportunity to promote the drama. Right after the small interview and leaving with your fellow co-actor. Dreamies was next for the interview, unfortunately, Jaemin was hot-seated because you two are in a public relationship, asking about his thoughts on your drama. Jaemin professionally answered the question but when the host asked how he feels about you going to the award show with your co-actor, Jaemin only smiled, "Maybe next time we can go together, hopefully." 

Zhong Chenle

Chenle DREADS the award show but he has no choice but to attend it since NCT Dream is nominated for a big award. You were the host of the award show along with your co-actor but then again, since you two are promoting your drama, you two have to act 'lovey-dovey' to boost the ratings. But it is obvious that you're not comfortable with him, especially with the subtle touches like arms linking and him brushing the stray hair from your face. After the end of the show, there's a video compilation of Chenle looking unamused throughout the award show. (Even when they received the daesang award, he was glaring at the camera.)

Park Jisung

It was a special performance where you'll be performing with your co-actor since your drama was a musical. The performance was short but there were so much skinship with you and your co-actor, unknowingly, he adlibs a step where he kisses your hand, everyone thought that it was an act but you were genuinely shocked. You were too focused on your performance that you didn't noticed that the camera shifted to your boyfriend for a second. Jisung was judging REAL HARD, with his arms crossed and an obvious frown on his lips. That short clip went viral on Naver, saying about your boyfriend being jealous of the performance, wishing that it was him instead. 

[haechoxo]

[3:18 pm]

three months later

“i haven’t seen haechan this happy in months.” mumbled jeno, watching the scene unfolding across from him. there you were, animatedly explaining some workplace drama to haechan, who definitely wasn’t paying attention to anything coming out of your mouth, too busy staring at you with hearts in his eyes.

“i know, right… it’s disgusting.” renjun deadpanned.

“c’mon jun, acting like you weren’t also rooting for them back in school.” mark chided. “he finally got his shit in order, now look at him, like a lovesick puppy.” he teased.

“are you guys gonna keep to one corner for your date the entire afternoon or are you gonna tell us how haechan finally romanced you.” chenle sighed, waiting impatiently for the story.

“oh he romanced me alright,” you gushed, ready to fill them in, while haechan only grumbled, sinking in his seat, not wanting them to know the nitty gritty details of three weeks prior when he finally asked you out.

ᵎ

“so are we gonna go on a date yet or what?” haechan couldn’t hide the jittery excitement even if he tried, his leg bouncing like he was ready to jump at any moment now.

it had been two months since you made up with him, accepting his apology, and vowing to rekindle your friendship at the very least.

“hm… well i don’t know, i haven’t been properly asked…” you sigh dramatically, looking around with a rather bored expression. something finally clicks in his brain, you can almost see in the corner of your eye, a lightbulb over his head flickers.

what does he do?

“oh my dear y/n, please please please please can i take you out on a date? y/n i promise, cross my heart, swear on my nintendogs, i will make it worth your while i will wine and dine you so hard, we could do a classic romantic dinner and a movie i heard inside out 2 is doing super well right now… would you do me, lee donghyuck, the honor of going on a date with me?” the room is silent save for the literal panting he was doing, having said it all in one breath, on his knees, hands clasped together as he begged for a proper date.

your mouth was agape, you should’ve expected such theatrics from haechan, but it wasn’t any less surprising to hear such a sincere level of dedication and desperation.

“inside out 2 sounds like a good plan,” you murmur, which is immediately met with haechan doing a victory dance of sorts.

ᵎ

“check out romeo!” even jisung took part in the teasing, making haechan’s ears burn bright red.

“okay, cut it out! i thought it was cute, that’s all that matters.” you pouted at their relentless teasing.

“i thought that was a great way to ask someone out, i expect nothing less from a real man!”

“sure, jaemin.” renjun muttered.

“it’s fine, y/n,” he grabs your hand softly, “i can put up with the jokes, as long as i’m yours.”

“barf.”

“renjun!”

previous

a/n ; its over……………….. i would like to thank u guys 😖 for being here with me ☹️ for my first ever fanfic 😣 i have a long way to improve still,, especially with happy endings🤓 cuz this is kinda corny im w renjun….. BUT srsly im glad u guys enjoyed urs up til now and i hope it lived up to ur expectations,, feel free to leave ur thoughts and comments and opinions or any questions in my inbox (so i have an excuse to yap),, i do think with time i will eventually add more bonuses and standalone content that can tie in to the urs!au (so i have more excuses to yap) ,,advice is still appreciated!! xoxo jelly

[nerdlvr]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅rent-a-girlfriend.com ~ jisung's group

retired thots !

psychology major park jisung is tired of watching his friends fawn over their partners. using girls to do his homework just isn't cutting it anymore. now he's curious to see what all the hype is about, what's so good about being committed to one girl? he might just have to find out.

dreamy, hot, unattainable, mark lee, is still dreamy and hot but has been attained. with the little help of the anonymous dating app cryptic crush, he was able to find his one true love, just so happens that she was right next door. he's now a self proclaimed "love expert" offering to help jisung out, maybe he should just stick to completing his music degree...

drama major lee donghyuck is in a parasocial relationship with a guy who "hates" him, it doesn't bother him though, he likes to beg. even though he still goes for a cougar here and there, he values the depth of committed relationships a lot more after watching his friends fall in love. too bad that valuing depth doesn't mean you give good romantic advice.

lee jeno lovesss his exercise science major. not only does it help him make his body look godly, it was the gateway to obtaining his hot boyfriend na jaemin. watching his friends fail at basically everything is his favorite pass time, especially when he gets to tell his boyfriend all the juicy details.

these hotties are all part of sm university's largest fraternity neo theta phi, they refuse to live in the shared house after they caught one of the frat guys fucking on jisung and jeno's bunk bed. (somehow they had used both beds). 99% of the time their talking about their partners or hanging out with their partners, the other 1% is spent on planning the most outrageously idiotic plans to help jisung get a girlfriend.

yn's group ~ masterlist ~ intro

notes : these profiles are similar to the ones from cryptic crush just with a little twist since they're all in relationships now (except hyuck idk what's wrong with him) ready to go back down a idiot fuckboy spiral we will suffer together ! (dream blunt rotation gc will be included)

taglist : @strawberrysavi , @sunghoonsgfreal , @axo-l0tl , @jakesbubu , @baobeii55 , @solvrse , @lionzyon , @hyucktion , @rksbae , @hyucksunset , @m1ng1swife , @byeonwooseokabs , @ohwowzersthatscool , @prettybluei , @kodasity , @catdonut657 , @slayhaechan , @yuujiswrld , @lvrholic , @dudekiss3r , @catpjimin , @multifandomania , @wonsyn , @nctrawberries , @kimsaerom , @n0hyuck , @nanaxwi , @neverbeurs , @4chensungs , @nneteyamss , @mrkleelvr , @njmluvr , @hyunjungjae , @dolleyedgirl , @cyjzzl , @aerivrs , @jeonghansshitester , @minkyuncutie , @413ktz

[saythenametotheworld]

Campus Confessions | nct series

College is a whirlwind of unforgettable moments, spontaneous romances, and messy, heart-pounding drama. Through every crush, fling, and heartbreak, you learn what it really means to be young, wild, and in love.

Genre: college AU, anthology, romance Status: COMPLETED Pairing: NCT 00-Line x Reader Warnings: mature themes Notes: 5 parts. Set in the same AU, but each can be read as a standalone fic. Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

1. Foolish One (Huang Renjun)

A chance encounter with Renjun at the campus library turns into late-night study sessions and stolen moments. He's everything you're looking for—thoughtful, kind, intelligent. But is this the start of something real, or just a story you’re telling yourself?

2. Wonderland (Liu Yangyang)

A carefree spring break, a charming stranger, and moments that feel like they’ll last forever. You and Yangyang both knew it wouldn't, but boy, it was hands down the best spring break ever.

3. You're Not Sorry (Lee Jeno)

Being with Jeno was a whirlwind of dizzying highs and crushing lows, each moment burning brighter—and darker—than the last. Even with someone new, someone infinitely better, why does it always feel like every road leads back to him?

4. Guilty as Sin (Lee Donghyuck)

A summer in Mykonos, a tumultuous romance, and a classmate who’s always been trouble—only this time, you’re too broken to care. What starts as an escape from the wreckage of your past relationship soon becomes a mess of its own. Was it worth it?

5. Long Story Short (Na Jaemin)

Na Jaemin—your best friend, the one person who’d always been there for you, comes to help you back to your feet again. But is it too late to finally see him for what he truly is?

[naids4luv]

BALLING INTO LOVE : a haechan smau

synopsis : l/n y/n is known to get along with almost everyone on campus, lee haechan is known for his extrovertedness and his lack of personal space. what happens when these two well known students have a bit of an.. incident during their first encounter ?

pairing : lee donghyuck x fem!reader

featuring : 7dream, aespas ningning + giselle, sunghoon, chaewon and beomgyu

genre : mostly crack/humour, fluff, perhaps some angst, college au, one sided beef + one sided pining, soon to be mutual pining

extras : death jokes, swearing, haechan is a little unbearable towards reader, reader is lowkey stubborn, lmk if I need to add anything else, ignore how uncreative the photo is, feel free to give me advice or feedback!! also lmk if u wanna be apart of the tag list

playlist : just one day - bts, out of time - the weekend, love me back - fromis_9, in my dreams - red velvet, best mistake - ariana grande, the weekend - sza, thirsty - aespa, pasilyo - sunkissed lola

status : on hold (i’m so sorry😭), will let y’all know when i continue !! (or if i do💀)

started : 31/12/23

ended : ...

all parts under the cut😽

profiles : (1) + (2)

chp 0 : 127 opps

chp 1 : balled too hard

chp 2 : dont hmu... real ones know

chp 3 : h*****n’s friend

chp 4 : stay safe out there women🫶

chp 5 : I!!

chp 6 : i did it😁 (wc : 1629)

chp 7 : she is the drama

chp 8 : 😍😍😍

chp 9 : lowk think i’m wrong

chp 10 : ...

chp 11 : …

[peacheeeliz]

034. zombie by the cranberries (wc: 1497)

The trio enters the school restroom, Mark taking watch as Donghyuck and Allen take their places at the urinals. Mark rocks back and forth on his heels, taking in the defaced bathroom walls. Paint splatters line the walls and the stall doors, creating beautiful abstract murals in such a nasty place. His eyes wander towards the wall behind the urinals, taking notice of the strange patterns in the paint.

Right above each urinal, silhouettes of other men painted the walls. Mark freezes in place at the sight, slowly turning around to look at the closed stall doors. Before he can even warn his friends, three very familiar faces come barging out of the stalls, with their paintball guns aimed right at the three boys.

Their stern faces are quick to fall at the sight of the boys, each of them letting out a sigh as they drop their arms to their sides. “Jesus Christ, you guys,” Julie lets out first, smiling at her friends. “We thought you guys were someone else.”

“The dance club's been on our ass since we got their club leader, Shotaro, out,” Minnie starts. “Jiwoong was with us at first, but we got separated after that showdown.”

Mark sends a smile your way, letting out a sigh of relief. “I'm glad you're okay,” he tells you, wrapping you up in a comforting hug.

“Wow, good to see you too, Markie,” Julie scoffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest with a quick eye roll.

Mark's arm stays snug on your shoulder as he sends Julie a cheeky smile, “I'm glad you're okay, too, Jules.”

“We should try and find Jiwoong,” Minnie continues, ignoring the two friends bickering. “We've heard from other students that he might be in the dining hall with a few other drama majors.”

“Then let's find Jiwoong and make a game plan for the rest of the game,” Donghyuck agrees.

The group turns into the dining hall carefully, weapons entering before them as they tiptoed slowly into the large room. Signs of nearby life were very clear, with a fire still burning in a burn barrel that sat in the center of everything; where they got a burn barrel on campus, who knows. Colorful paint–fresh paint–is scattered across most of the walls, hinting at a very recent face-off between other students.

“If Jiwoong was here, there's a very small chance that he still is,” Minnie whispers to the group, inching closer to the burn barrel. She's hesitant to lower her weapon, “be careful, you guys. There might still be students around.”

The six students inch their way through the large space, checking every nook and cranny for any sign of the remaining study group member. Remnants of food wrappers and soda cans sit around the fire, glistening as the sun begins to set outside the windows. There's a slim chance that whoever set up camp here had gone far, as there's still piles of paintball lying around.

“Y/Nie!” A voice calls out from behind the group, pulling their attention away from the makeshift base camp. Standing in one of the doorframes into the dining hall, Jiwoong waves cheerfully at his friends. He turns to the other students that stand behind him, “don't shoot, alright? They're my friends.”

You're the first to rush to his side, pulling him into a quick hug. “Glad you're still in, Woongie,” you tell him, smiling softly. “Thought dance club would've gotten to you by now.”

“You would think so, huh?” He laughs, watching as the other drama majors join the study group around the fire. “The dance club's all out, but we're being chased down by the glee club now.”

“We were so sure that the glee club was the only other group that was left besides us,” another drama major starts. “But, I guess there's a lot more people still in than we thought. We get those fuckers out, though, and it's just down to us.”

Jiwoong guides you back to the campfire, arm warmly wrapped around your shoulders. “We should be careful. They've been lurking around for a while now,” he says. “Those guys are stealthier than you think.”

“They've baited a bunch of other students already,” the same drama major continues. “Singing some cheesy, zombie apocalypse-esque songs to try and lure anybody in. They've gone crazy from the fact that they haven't been able to get us out yet.”

A soft pang echoes throughout the dining hall before that same drama majors doubles over in pain. As he leans over, the colorful pattern of pink paint on his back shines brightly under the light of the fire. The large group is quick to crouch down as even more paintballs come flying from one of the nearby hallways, and they each raise their weapons to fire back at the unknown attackers. For a moment there, the group's able to hold the attackers back and get a majority of them out. But the last few left are resilient, dodging the paint bullets very meticulously.

The drama majors are dropping like flies, leaving just your study group standing strong as you all continue to fire at the remaining glee club members. They surely weren't going down without a fight because, one by one, your study group members began to run out of ammo until, eventually, you ran out of paintballs.

You duck behind a pillar, throwing your paintball gun beside you in frustration. The back and forth between the two groups rings in your ears, making you wince every time a paintball flies a little too close to your head. You're about to relax and give into the inevitable when Mark quickly appears by your side, startling you.

“Sorry, Y/Nie,” he says softly, hand resting on your shoulder. His other hand presents a small pile of paintballs, handing them your way. “It's not a lot, but it'll last you until we can get these guys out.”

“Mark, you should use these yourself,” you tell him, pushing his hand back. "I'll be fine. Go win that priority registration, okay?”

“Honey, I'm not winning that prize without you by my side,” he whispers, smiling brightly at you. Just the sight of it makes the beating of your heart pick up, as if it wasn't already pounding out of your chest from the intense showdown going on around the two of you. “Hyuck and Allen have gone down, and I don't think the others are going to last that much longer. We can take this to the end and win.”

“Where one of us will eventually have to get the other out,” you remind him, smiling back weakly. “You do know only one of us can win this prize, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I remember,” he laughs, shaking his head. “But I'd let you win if it were just the two of us left, I hope you know that. As long as you promise not to shoot me, and just let me off easy.”

“No promises,” you reply, winking at him. You hesitate, but you finally reach for the ammunition in his hand. Once you're both reloaded and turning to face your assailant, all you can see is the rest of your study group down on the floor with the rest of the drama majors and glee club, groaning out in agony.

“I don't… I don't think I can go on much longer,” Minnie lets out, coughing as she lays her hand on her paint stained clothes.

“You can make it, Min,” Julie coughs out beside her. “I believe in you… I believe in us.”

“No, I don't think I can go on much longer without food,” Minnie continues, dropping the facade real quick. “Denny's?”

“Yeah, fuck this,” Julie responds, quick to sit up and help the older woman up off the floor. She sends a thumbs up your way as they walk off, “good luck, fuckers!”

The both of you don't even get the chance to bid your friends goodbye before you're brought straight back into the battle, with the one remaining glee club member continually firing in your direction. It's not long before Mark sends one final shot, hitting the other student right in the chest, sending him flying back into the hallway. You're quick to congratulate him, wrapping him in a tight hug.

Mark spins you around, laughing wholeheartedly before he sets you back down. He pulls back with the biggest smile on his face, staring down at you with stars in his eyes. A soft sigh slips past his lips, and he reaches his hand up to push a strand of hair behind your ear.

A blush rises to your face as you avoid his gaze, but your eyes widen as you spot a red spot on his shirt. “Fuck, Mark, your shirt.”

He looks down, grabbing onto his shirt as he lets out a groan. Mark looks at the fabric even closer, “oh." He pauses, smiling once again. "It's just blood.”

synopsis ⤏ mark, desperate to talk to the cute girl in his japanese class, forms a study group. who knew that other struggling college students might want to join a study group?

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[jirsungs]

NO IDEA | profiles #1

"ncu freaks" + jeno 🤔 | masterlist | gal pals & two men

lee donghyuck, third-year computer science student. introverted and keeps to himself unless he's around his friends. participates in no school clubs so no one really knows him, except the drama club but he doesn't count it as "a real club that sparked his interest" because he only joined to support jaemin being club president. works at the school's library with his aunt in his spare time. is in charge of the group's game nights that are hosted at his and renjun's apartment every friday (that jeno sometimes joins if he isn't busy with basketball).

lee jeno, third-year sports sciences major. part of the basketball team, meaning he's pretty well-known amongst people. is cool with everyone, so no one bats an eye when he's found hanging out with hyuck or any of the guys. even though he's considered "popular" because of basketball, he prefers to stay introverted and views the ncu freaks as his closest friends. so many people are intimidated by him because of his looks, but he's really just a quiet, sweet bean who likes to observe (judge) his surroundings. hyuck's wingman in getting a shot with y/n.

huang renjun, third-year student majoring in art. barely answers in the group chat unless he's the one to text first. has lived off campus with hyuck since the start of their freshman year at ncu. works with donghyuck in the library when he doesn't have back-to-back classes. somewhat extroverted, people know of him, but they don't know him. renjun's a nice guy that gives hyuck good company, which is why he keeps him around, but he also isn't shy to give him a slap of reality when he needs it the most.

na jaemin, third-year photography student. compared to the rest of the guys (excluding jeno), he's the most well known. president of the drama club with all of his friends as members because he forced them. owns three cats that he never shuts up about (they're donghyuck's kids). lives in the apartment right across the hall from hyuck and renjun, meaning his apartment is hyuck's second home when renjun is out of the house and he's lonely. an all-around fun and brassy guy, but some people don't like how weird he gets when he starts raving about his cats. donghyuck doesn't mind it, though! he finds jaemin silly.

park jisung, second-year game design major. dorms on campus, but basically lives at the group's apartments. got adopted (forced) into the group because he decided to join the drama club out of curiosity, but then he ran into jaemin. that should explain everything. he's the group's "child." hyuck finds jisung adorable when he's not getting on his damn nerves. is the group's game stash since he's locked and loaded with board and video games. despite him being the youngest of the five, his maturity level is higher than the rest. sometimes it isn't. but usually, it is.

note: guys i had sm fun making their accs 😞!

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[9:02 pm]

(cw: f!reader)

a/n: this is set in a very vague time period, (in my head it is like 14/15th century but it’s really not evident) pls keep in mind I haven’t interacted with any Romeo and Juliet content since I was like 13 but I still kind of like how this came out

Romeo!Haechan was more than happy that this party was a masquerade party. If anyone in this house knew that it was him that was hidden behind the gold-trim mask, they would surely have his head. He’d have been dead before the sun had a chance to rise again.

He rather preferred to stay on the wall, somewhat hidden by the shadows of the large stone pillars of the ballroom. Yes, to stay out of the eyes of those who would kill him, but more so to watch the rest of the party goers.

His eyes scanned over the crowd. A large sea of fancy masks, even fancier dresses, and very few familiar features. He was starting to wonder where his friends had disappeared to. Surely they were causing trouble somewhere, it was better that he stayed away from them tonight. Just his last name was enough to make half the guests in this ballroom pull their swords and chase him through the streets. The hatred was never something he’d questioned just something he went along with.

He was deep in thought, trying to remember how the drama between his family and those that threw the party had even started, but his thoughts stopped seeing that you had crossed his eye sight.

It was like you made everything around you more vibrant, the torches on the walls burned brighter, and every beautiful girl he’d ever seen before you immediately paled in comparison. His breathing became shallow and his heartbeat sped up with pure excitement.

He moved along the walls with precision, following you through the crowd until he suddenly realized you were both outside. A garden filled with sweet scented roses almost as beautiful as you.

You tugged the bow of your mask from the back of your head, sighing and taking a seat in a small bench below a big tree.

“Excuse my intrusion, I just had to let you know how beautiful you look,” Haechan stated.

You flinched, startled at the unexpected guest, “oh, thank you. I’m sure if I could see your face I’d be able to say the same.”

Haechan pulled the mask from his face, apprehensively hoping you weren’t one of the many people at this house who hated him because of his last name. You smiled softly, “you are handsome indeed.”

“It is nothing compared to your beauty. I am Haechan, it is so wonderful to meet a beauty such as yourself,” he returned your smile with his hand held out.

You told him your name as you shook his hand. A spark of electricity runs down your spine, goosebumps covering every part of your exposed skin. It looked like Haechan felt it too, his eyes widened minimally.

No one had ever made you feel like this upon first meeting. Haechan was very clearly special. He was making you feel all new feelings, an excitement to see him again even though he was still right in front of you. A yearning for him before he’d even left your eyesight.

“Donghyuck! That better not be you!” An angry voice called out.

Haechan looked panicked, “I’ll see you again soon. I promise, my heart is already with you.”

You tightened your hold on his hand, holding on until he disappeared into the garden. Your hand lingered with the warmth of his touch. You hoped he would keep his promise.