#student!hyunjae

[bandhyukoh]

221223-24 Hyunjae @ Mudd the student's concerts

[hcuyk]

OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, haechan had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with haechan

PAIRING ✧ rival!haechan x fem!reader

GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining

WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive haechan : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyuck for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @flwoie — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @nyujjan @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie (lmk if you prefer to be tagged for both, or for only hyunjae/haechan!) — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

NCT DREAM MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : haechan's version for the original our inferno is finally here! i hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE

“Genuine question.”

��Shoot.”

“Who the fuck does Haechan actually think he is?”

Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Jaemin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 

“Well, he is your boss.”

“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Jaemin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Jaemin, and Haechan were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Haechan was the subject of interest, and Jaemin was there for physical support. 

Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Haechan’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Haechan’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’

For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Haechan was still in the locker room changing.

“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Jaemin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.

“Against Haechan? You gotta be kidding, right?”

“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Haechan.”

Jaemin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Haechan. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Haechan, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.

“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to, not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Jaemin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.

“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”

“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Jaemin grumbled.

“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”

“Well yeah, but the—”

“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”

“That’s just how-”

“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Jaemin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.

“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”

“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.

You jerked around to find Haechan, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.

You halted in your path and stared him down. Haechan immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.

“You.” 

Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Haechan laugh.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh here we go again,” Jaemin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.

As a mutual friend of yours and Haechan’s since middle school, Jaemin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 

“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Haechan feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.

Haechan furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.

“Jaemin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”

Jaemin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Haechan in annoyance.

“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”

“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Jaemin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Haechan’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.

“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”

“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.

“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”

“I’m complaining,” Jaemin muttered.

“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Haechan had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.

Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 

“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Haechan’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”

What you despised most was how well Haechan knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Haechan, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.

Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 

Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.

“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.

“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”

“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Jaemin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.

“Get a room—!”

“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”

“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 

“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”

“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”

You and Haechan both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).

“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Jaemin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.

“And apparently horny too.”

“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Jaemin unnecessarily announced, and Haechan’s face soured.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Jaemin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 

“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”

“Or, hot take,” Haechan interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”

“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Jaemin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”

He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Haechan. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Jaemin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 

Jaemin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.

“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”

You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Jaemin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Haechan as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Jaemin’s speedy steps.

Despite carrying heavier items, Haechan caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Haechan’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.

“He sees it,” Haechan sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”

“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.

“You can’t be serious.”

Haechan, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.

“Haechan,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

Instead of receiving something witty from Haechan like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.

The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Haechan like you normally do.

“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Jaemin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.

“Earth to Haechan?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Yeonjun, remember?”

For a moment, Haechan could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.

“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”

Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.

“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”

“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”

“It was a mistake, okay?”

“A mistake?” As Haechan’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 

Seeing how Haechan was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Haechan was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 

All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Haechan was being more condescending than he had ever been.

“You know nothing, Haechan, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”

“You’re still with him??”

“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”

And just like how you always are, Haechan refused to shut up.

“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”

“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Haechan was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”

“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Yeonjun, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Haechan could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Haechan meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.

After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 

“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”

Haechan stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Hyuck.”

Haechan clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.

You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.

Not only was Haechan’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Jaemin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Jaemin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.

When you turned around to walk away, you knew Haechan was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.

“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”

And with that, you left. 

//

Jaemin apologized to you the morning after.

He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Jaemin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Haechan told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.

According to Jaemin, he only told Haechan about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Haechan already knew. As Jaemin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Haechan didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Jaemin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Haechan had brought it up to Jaemin instead.

Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.

But avoiding Haechan felt like lighting a match in the rain. 

It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Haechan Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.

He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Haechan had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 

Yet it all felt so different.

Unless he was called on, Haechan would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.

You had also gotten quieter because without Haechan to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 

There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 

Then you would never have to see him in college.

Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Jaemin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 

Haechan had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Yeonjun as your boyfriend.

But then that begged the question: why did Haechan bother spending his time ridiculing you?

From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.

He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Haechan was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.

He knew when to stop.

Yet when it came to the one instance involving Yeonjun, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?

“Haechan isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

Jaemin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.” 

After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.

“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 

“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 

You didn’t react nor respond to what Jaemin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.

Jaemin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.

“Why are you thinking about him?”

That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Haechan, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.

“What?”

“Haechan. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Jaemin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”

“Well it’s not because of Haechan, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”

Jaemin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Jaemin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Jaemin jerked back his arm, making you whine.

“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. As Jaemin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Nagyung waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.

She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 

“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”

She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.

“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”

“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”

“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”

She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Nagyung had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”

The question of who Nagyung liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.

A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Hyunjin or well-known like…Haechan.

“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”

You knew it.

Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.

“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?

“So you want me to do it?”

“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”

You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.

Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Nagyung back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.

“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Haechan will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”

The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 

“What?”

Nagyung tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.

“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”

Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.

“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 

When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.

“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.

There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Haechan’s, Nagyung’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 

//

With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.

The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jisung, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jisung, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.

But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Haechan like a colleague. That should be easy, right?

As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.

Haechan hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Nagyung wasn’t aware that Haechan was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jisung) would take over. 

Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jisung being there instead of Haechan had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Haechan or Jisung (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.

You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Haechan’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 

Covered from head to toe in sweats, Haechan was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown waves peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.

Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.

The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 

“Nice try.”

You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Haechan’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.

Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 

“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.

Haechan staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 

“What do you mean?”

Even if Haechan didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.

“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Hyuck, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”

“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 

Haechan barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 

“What–?”

“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”

“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”

“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.

“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.

Haechan looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.

Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.

“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”

“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.

“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”

“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.

Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Haechan walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?

The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 

As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 

You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 

After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.

Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 

You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.

Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Nagyung behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.

You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.

“It’s okay, Nagyung, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”

“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 

“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.

And just like that, she continued running off. 

You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Nagyung had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.

Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.

When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Yeonjun.

Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.

So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.

Of course it was Haechan.

You had Haechan’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.

The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 

You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.

Automatically assuming it was Nagyung or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.

“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Haechan was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.

When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.

 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 

“You’re taking too long.”

“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.

And Haechan was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I can do it myself,” you explained. 

“What are you even doing?” 

“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Haechan’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.

“You’re struggling.”

“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.

“Let me do it.”

Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”

“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Haechan? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”

Haechan was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.

“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 

“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.

“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Haechan in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Haechan you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.

Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Haechan wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.

Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.

“Haechan, I swear—”

“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 

Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Yeonjun’s whereabouts, how he knew that Yeonjun was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 

You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Yeonjun, at least you would be away from Haechan. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Haechan’s narcissism was insufferable.

By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.

As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Haechan was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Yeonjun standing precisely where Haechan said he was.

Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 

“Junnie!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.

Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.

“Hey, baby!”

You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Yeonjun laugh.

“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.

“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.

“Of course I was, baby.” 

You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Yeonjun was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

//

If someone were to inquire Haechan about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 

Haechan had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.

Haechan knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 

Additionally, Haechan’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Haechan’s devotion to hope for humanity. 

All these traits were what led Haechan up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.

It was safe to say that competition against Lee Haechan was sparse, and you were no different. 

Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.

Except for one thing; your fury.

There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 

Haechan had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 

Haechan yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 

Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.

The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.

It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Haechan would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Yeonjun.

Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Haechan was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 

So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Haechan had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.

What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Haechan. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn.

Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?

He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 

It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jaehyun, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 

At this rate, Haechan could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 

But with your constant longing for Yeonjun, Haechan made sure that this party would be different.

Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Haechan had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised eyebrows, specifically Jaehyun’s when he first tried urging Haechan with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Haechan informed Mark of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Haechan could get a taste of alcohol.

“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jaehyun exclaimed the instant he found out about Haechan’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.

“That’s what I told him!” Mark projected his voice over the music, giving Haechan a supportive pat on the back.

Haechan rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jaehyun for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Haechan’s face scrunched up at the taste, Mark shoving him lightly with the claim that Haechan was being overdramatic. 

With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Haechan had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Haechan in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Sunwoo and his usual complaints about Haechan partying as a high schooler on a school night. 

After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Haechan excused himself and answered the call.

“Hello?”

With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.

“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 

You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.

There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.

“I need a ride.”

Haechan blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.

Your bluntness and suddenty made Haechan malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.

He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 

But it was you, and Haechan was willing to risk it.

After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 

He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Haechan knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Mark, giving him a pat on the back.

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jaehyun shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.

“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Haechan started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

“He’s lying,” Mark snorted, taking a swig before bidding Haechan a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"

Haechan ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?

But as much as Haechan hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

For a split second, Haechan truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 

It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Haechan was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 

Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.

You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 

In an ideal world, Haechan would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.

He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 

Despite how slow his mind was working, Haechan knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.

Without any explanation from you, Haechan refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.

While Haechan attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Haechan. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.

You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.

“Drive.”

Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Haechan picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Haechan raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Hyuck.”

The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 

You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Haechan’s car).

After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.

It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.

Haechan stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.

“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Haechan shook his head.

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.

Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.

“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 

You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 

Haechan opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.

There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Haechan could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.

Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Haechan had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Haechan had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 

His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.

“About Yeonjun and Nagyung.”

Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.

Your voice was delicate, and Haechan knew that with one move, he could break you.

Directing his gaze heavenward, Haechan sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.

But you asked, and as always, Haechan delivered.

“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Haechan was forced to relive it all.

The hallways were empty when Haechan left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Yeonjun’s voice around the corner. 

His footsteps halted, and Haechan caught Yeonjun’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Nagyung’s squeals followed after, and Haechan stood motionless.

At first, Haechan had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 

Haechan couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 

Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 

Then with quick strides, Haechan shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Yeonjun against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Haechan’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.

There wasn’t a second in between Yeonjun’s face of surprise and Haechan’s arm being raised, and before Yeonjun could react, Haechan’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 

It was a blur from there, but Haechan knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Yeonjun’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Haechan gave him.

The fact that Yeonjun managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Haechan wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.

Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 

Haechan turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.

You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Haechan over Yeonjun, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Haechan’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.

“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.

“I know, Hyuck.”

Haechan eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.

Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Yeonjun had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Haechan would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—

You laughed.

Haechan snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Haechan to see you vulnerable.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”

His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 

“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Nagyung just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?

It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 

“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”

Haechan sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.

“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Haechan included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?

You always wanted Haechan to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?

And yet, as much as it pained Haechan to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Yeonjun; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 

You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.

Haechan got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Haechan could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.

Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 

Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.

“Take me,” you whispered, and Haechan’s whole world stopped. 

“...What?” Haechan had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.

Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.

“Please.”

Like a moth to a flame, Haechan admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 

You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.

“I want it to hurt, Donghyuck.”

Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Hyuck, and now his actual name. He favored Haechan, but after hearing ‘Donghyuck’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 

But Haechan worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.

“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Haechan swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”

Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 

But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Yeonjun—that your heart still belonged to him, and Haechan was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?

Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.

“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Yeonjun being better than Haechan. Haechan was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Haechan was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Hyuck. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 

He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.

“And I say take advantage of it.”

Haechan dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.

Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 

The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Haechan as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.

You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.

When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 

After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Haechan back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Haechan. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 

Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.

Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.

You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 

Haechan would punch Yeonjun all over again if he could. 

Without a second thought, Haechan ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Yeonjun were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 

“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.

“But it’s true, no?”

“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Haechan to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Yeonjun ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Haechan instead of your unknowing boyfriend.

You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Haechan knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Haechan touching you.

The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Haechan didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.

He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Haechan beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.

You wanted to be his downfall. 

Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easily it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.

“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”

“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Haechan into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Haechan, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.

And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.

Haechan didn’t deserve that at all. 

But Haechan was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 

Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.

He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.

“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Yeonjun and justify how poorly he treats you?” 

Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Haechan already knew how you were going to respond.

He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.

Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 

“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.

You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Haechan’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.

But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 

When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.

“Did I do this?”

His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 

He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.

“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Haechan rolled his eyes.

“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”

“A favor is a stretch—”

Haechan plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.

“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”

He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Haechan finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 

Haechan’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.

“Donghyuck, please,” you begged. 

He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 

Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Haechan never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.

“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 

When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 

“Oh-...Oh my god, Hyuck—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 

He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 

As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Haechan was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Yeonjun ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 

The mention of Yeonjun had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Haechan seemed to have other plans.

Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”

There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Yeonjun’s name.

And Haechan took no time breaking it from your neck.

Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 

“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 

“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Haechan pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Haechan explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 

You wrapped your fingers around Haechan’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.

“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Donghyuck,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.

He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.

“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”

The speed of your hips increased, and Haechan felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.

“You’re jealous, Hyuck. Just admit it.”

You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Haechan managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Haechan was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 

With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.

“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Haechan kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.

He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 

“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Yeonjun would love it if I sent that video to him.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Haechan was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Haechan released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Haechan inside you. 

“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.

“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 

“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Haechan gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.

“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 

Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Haechan’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 

He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.

And Haechan showed no signs of stopping.

He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.

Oh, and there was the recording too.

While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.

You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Haechan seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.

“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 

“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Haechan. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Haechan each time. 

Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Yeonjun, yet the rest of your body was meant for Haechan.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”

Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.

Haechan whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.

He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.

“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Haechan’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 

Haechan had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was incoming, and you held on tight to his arm.

“D-Dongh- hyuck, I’m—”

“Mine.”

You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Haechan pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.

Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Haechan consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 

“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — NCT DREAM

© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/

[daisyvisions]

✦ Day 29 - Dumbification

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Bully!Sangyeon x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.3K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), dumbification, bully!Sangyeon, hard!dom, rough sex, face slapping, spitting, hair pulling, spanking, slight degradation, mean!Sangyeon, possessive sex (if you squint), unprotected sex, biting, big dick Sangyeon has arrived!, manhandling, some acts are “forced” but consented, names used (sweetheart, baby, good girl, whore)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Belated happy birthday gift to myself! This is me self-indulging because… why not? 🤪 definitely considering on continuing this story through small blurbs / scenarios in the future. Proofread once, horny as ever 🥴

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦

Lee Sangyeon, student body president of your college. A model student and friendly to all. Everyone loves him, adores him, wants to be him - except you.

You hated his guts, mainly because for no reason he would always try to get on your nerves. He would tug on your ponytail, always correct you in class, embarrass you in front of guys who’d try to ask you out, and even subtly flip your skirt with his pen and comment on how short it is, saying how you either wore it for him or you’re just seeking attention like you usually do.

And you hated the way he’d smirk at you when you’d try to tell him off or get angry with him. It made you want to strangle him even more.

What made it even worse was when news about the vice president stepping down was going around. According to student body law, the president could choose whoever he wanted to become his right-wing. And out of all the people he could've chosen… it just had to be you.

You thought he’d go easy on you as soon as you started, that maybe he would treat you like a fellow peer even just a little bit. Maybe you could finally see the side of Sangyeon everyone seemed to adore.

But it only started going downhill from here.

Sangyeon treated you like you were his secretary (hell, even the actual student body secretary was treated better). He would constantly order you around, shut down your ideas, make you fetch his coffee in the morning (otherwise you’d “get a detention slip”), tell you to write all the notes during council meetings, and even be the one to inform his professors that he would be missing class during emergency meetings or varsity trainings.

You hate him so much to the point you would cry with the way he treated you like you were his beck and call. You wanted to to hit him where it hurt the most, put him in his place and realize how much of an ass he really is.

All your anger and frustration towards him was all you could ever think of, so much so that his face appeared in your dream one night, a dream that you would consider to be the most pornographic dream you’ve ever had.

Images of Sangyeon taking you from behind, pulling your hair and calling you his whore… You swear you could never look at him the same way again without feeling incredibly needy. You were embarrassed at yourself. Allowing your subconscious to think about him that way.

You hated him! …Right?

And ever since that dream, you started to become quiet around him. You would answer back less, avoid his gaze, you don't even look irritated when he would call out your name. You even stopped complaining about all the things he’d make you do.

And this new behavior of yours was starting to annoy him.

Where was the old you that would tell him to fuck off? The one whose face would turn red when he really pissed you off? Or the way you’d mumble something under your breath and when he’d asked you’d say “nothing.” The bratty behavior that would get under his skin and make him feel some kind of tingle in his veins.

Was there someone else grabbing your attention? Sangyeon wonders.

Maybe, he has seen you a couple of times with that tall guy. What was his name again? Younghoon? Or was it Hyunjae? In any case, the thought of someone else taking your attention away from him irked him deeply.

There was a reason why he picked you to be his vice president. There was something about you that was incredibly addicting, especially with the way you would react to his touch, his words, and whenever he would get close.

Or how adorable you would get when you were frustrated with him. And every time you'd knit your eyebrows together and huff, all he wanted to do was kiss your little bratty face.

He needed you to get mad at him again. He needed you to put all your focus on him and no one else.

Because in his mind, you belonged to no one else except him.

“C’mon sweetheart, just tell me why you’ve been avoiding me.” He asks for the nth time as he corners you alone in the student council room.

“For the last time Sangyeon, I told you to drop it!” You huff in annoyance. You don't understand why he couldn’t just leave you alone, but at the same time the scent of his musky cologne was starting to intoxicate you. Flashes of your dream about him playing in your mind as you try to not let the blush creep onto your cheeks.

“I bet it’s because of Younghoon huh? What? Getting tired of me now? Looking for other people to give you more attention?”

“Wha- No! Are you fucking serious right now?” You couldn’t believe him.

“Seriously, how much more attention do you need in a day? You’re lucky I even find the time in my busy day to give you that.”

“I never asked for your attention Sangyeon! Why can’t you understand that?” You shout as you feel your body warming up from all the anger boiling inside you.

“Just admit it then! You just want someone to fuck you like the attention whore that you are-”

A loud slap echoes throughout the room. Tension building in the air as soon as the room fell silent. Sangyeon slowly turns his head back at you and as soon as you meet his gaze, you feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You’re scared and excited at the same time, finally being able to hit his face after months of built up frustration but at the same time scared for your life with the darkness seeping through his eyes.

“Sangyeon.. I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Do that again…”

“What?” Your eyebrows knit in confusion.

“I said… Do that again.” He demands.

For a split second you’re hesitant but then you remembered all the times he’s tormented you and treated you like dirt. You quickly slap his other cheek, the sound echoing louder than the first one.

The look in Sangyeon’s eyes in that moment was so primal. The way his dark orbs were staring you down in a way you’ve never seen before. The thrill and fear of the moment causing you to clench your thighs together.

He suddenly grabs you by your waist, harshly pulling you towards him as he smashes his lips against yours and gives you a deep passionate kiss.

Out of impulse, your hands push against his strong chest, trying to free yourself from his grip. But Sangyeon wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you in harder, trapping you in his embrace as he forcefully kisses you this time.

You whimper into the kiss, easily melting into his touch as you wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him even closer. Your kisses start out messy, teeth clashing against each other until you find a good rhythm.

“Mmm you taste so good.” Sangyeon mumbles against your mouth, savoring the feeling of your lips against his.

He’s suddenly caught off guard as you walk him backwards, the back of his knees hitting a chair as you forcefully push him down to sit and straddle his lap. Slipping your tongue in his mouth as you start to grind yourself onto his crotch.

“Shit, are you enjoying this?” He smirks at you but instead you roll your eyes and continue to kiss him, gripping his collar as if you’re attempting to strangle him.

“You still haven’t told me why you’ve been avoiding me by the way.” He tries to talk as you continue to kiss him.

“Just drop it already Sangyeon-” You snap at him, focusing on satisfying the ache between your thighs as you roll your hips. But Sangyeon grips your waist hard to stop your movements, making you whine.

“Tsk tsk tsk, can’t let you get what you want without answering me sweetheart. So tell me, why have you been avoiding me?”

“YOU! It’s because of you!” You shout as you tug on his collar.

“I had a dream where you fucked me. There! Is that what you wanted to hear?” Your chest heaving from the frustration.

“Yeah? You dreamt about me baby?” Sangyeon slowly smirks at you.

“Don’t call me that-”

“Why? does it get you all… hot and bothered?”

“Just shut the fuck up- ah!” Sangyeon sends a hard slap against your ass, making you yelp from the sudden sting.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do…” He says. His deep and stern voice enough to send electric jolts to your core.

“From this point on you’re gonna listen to me, got that?” You nod your head immediately. But Sangyeon grips your face harshly, making your jaw slack open. He spits into your mouth, making your eyes grow wide and moan from the vulgar act.

“Answer me.” His jaw clenches. “Or has humping me like a bitch in heat made you brain dead already?”

You shake your head, “I’ll listen to you, promise-”

“Good girl.” The corner of his lip slightly tugging upwards.

Sangyeon adjusts the both of you as he unbuckles his jeans and pulls out his monster cock from his boxers. You stare at his length for a moment, suddenly wanting to back out of the situation. You weren’t actually gonna fuck him. Maybe suck him off yeah but not this…

“Ride me.” He commands you.

“I- I can’t….” You stutter.

“Aw, shy all of a sudden? What’s the matter sweetheart?” He lifts your chin up to get a better look at your face.

“I-I cant, s’too big-” The fear in your voice turning him on just a little bit.

Sangyeon leans forward to kiss you delicately this time, contrasting his animalistic behavior moments ago.

“Shh, I’ll guide you yeah? Just relax.” He kisses you once again before lifting your hips up and hooking your panties to the side.

You slowly move your hips down, feeling the head of his cock slowly enter you. You start to panic as you can already feel him stretching you out like you’ve never been stretched before. Sangyeon starts to grow impatient at your pace and instead pushes your hips all the way down til his entire length is completely inside you.

“Sangyeon!” You yelp at the burning stretch of his size, immediately burying your face onto the junction between his neck and shoulder and dig your teeth into his skin. Sangyeon winces but moans at the bite, knowing it will definitely leave a mark on his shoulder later.

He kisses the side of your head as he rubs your back trying to soothe you as your walls adjust to him.

“Just sit here and moan out my name yeah? You can take it…” He whispers in your ear as his hands go under your skirt, holding your ass as he guides you to slowly bounce on his cock.

The slow repeated drag of his length from the head all the way to the base has your head spinning. You can feel him everywhere.

“Baby, you’re so wet-” He grunts as he grips your ass, fucking himself deep into your cunt like his fleshlight at home.

“We’re gonna have to add this to your list of responsibilities now don’t we?” He lightly chuckles.

“’Review meeting notes with Sangyeon’ or ‘Discuss to-do list with Sangyeon’ or maybe even-”

“Sshutt uuppp-” you mutter as you continue to place your focus on satisfying your own pleasure. But you’re soon caught off guard as Sangyeon suddenly pulls your hair from behind, making you moan from the pain.

“Behave…” He gives you a warning before attacking your neck with kisses. Your pussy tightens around his cock the more aggressive he becomes. Even Sangyeon notices your reaction.

“Shit, did that turn you on? You like it when I’m mean to you sweetheart?” He asks but your cunt clenches around him once again, giving Sangyeon the answer he needed.

“Getting fucked stupid you can’t even speak to me-” he grunts as he thrusts up into your walls. You mumble out incoherent words in response, words fading in your mind as all you can think about is his cock moulding its shape into you.

He grabs the back of your knees and stands up, still connected to you as he plops you down on his desk and starts to pound you relentlessly.

The sound of the table creaking, your wanton moans, Sangyeon groaning as he watches you cream on his length, it all fades into the distance as you feel all your senses become numb.

You don’t even have the words to tell him you’re reaching your orgasm. You just moan out his name in a slur and your body convulses. Legs twitching and arms shaking from holding yourself up on the desk.

You’re suddenly brought back to reality when you feel Sangyeon slap your face. Wincing at the sting on your cheek but whining as he stops thrusting himself into you.

“Did I fucking say you can cum on my cock?” He looks at you with angry eyes.

“M-s-sorryyy” you whine. But you moan once again as you feel his hand instantly grip your throat, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin.

"Too late now," Sangyeon hissed, his grip on your neck tightening,

"I'm gonna make you cum over and over until the only word you know is my name."

[sohnric]

paris – l. juyeon

pairing: lee juyeon x fem! reader

genre: exchange student! juyeon in paris (ft. his erasmus friends). friends to ???, angst, fluff. actually, the genre is longing. halloween party au but the halloween part plays like,, 0 part in the fic, basically. idk the paris pics did something to me he is so european coded. paris by the 1975 without the drugs in a fic, essentially

warnings: cheating from yn's side, swearing, alcohol, smoking. the reader is canonically french im sorry 💀

word count: 6k

There’s quite a few reasons why Juyeon never told his friends from home about you- the girl he met on his student exchange trip. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making Juyeon’s whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it– oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

a/n: do NOT cancel me for being a casual matty healy enjoyer i am a 2014 tumblr girlie at heart

“And where are my gifts? Where are the souvenirs?” Hyunjae calls after the boy that’s still kind of jet lagged from the flight (even though it’s been 3 days since his landing and he slept the whole day after his brother picked him up from the airport), the latter looking at him with tired eyes. 

“That’s all you want from me after not seeing me for 6 months?”

“Yes. Where’s my baguette?” Hyunjae glares, making the younger boy whine at the request.

“I didn’t know you wanted a hard rock baguette from me. If I had known, I would’ve taken one with me and smashed it against your head the moment I arrived here.”

“Well, if it’s authentic,” Hyunjae shrugs, laughing. “I’m just joking… I know we’ve been calling and texting like, every other day, but let me ask again. How was it?”

Juyeon finally smiles at his friend’s question. This is what one expects after coming home from studying abroad for 10 months– not a souvenir request. And trust me, Juyeon did bring gifts, out of the warmth of his own heart, but after being asked for them, he kind of doesn’t want to play Santa anymore. Kind of like when you decide to wash the dishes, but your mum tells you to do it at the same time of your decision– the motivation fades away the mere second you’re requested to do the thing.

“Well, it was good,” he shrugs, “it was… something,” Juyeon says– because how does one fit 10 months of their life into a few sentences without stammering– and before he gets a chance to say anything, Hyunjae catches him off guard with another inquiry.

“Is it true, by the way? Are European girls really prettier?” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at the boy as if to suggest something– but all it does is make Juyeon shrug, acting not really bothered with the question. 

“Dunno,” he hums, “I think it’s equal to here.”

“So you’re telling me you went 10 months without getting laid in France?” Hyunjae gasps, making Juyeon furrow his brows in utter disbelief.

“When did I say that? Or anything that would even suggest that?” 

Now, this was a trap. Juyeon is too gullible. See, Juyeon was pretty transparent with everything during his calls with Hyunjae back when he was in Paris. He told his friends back home all about the European food, the rock-hard french baguettes, the weird looks and annoyed sighs he got when speaking English to the clarks in the shops, the cold showers in his accommodation and the pretty park in front of his university building. They also know all about his friends from Paris– the international students he met in his course like Shotaro from Japan, Bence from Hungary and Marco from Italy– but when the question of girls came around, specifically in the romantic light of things, Juyeon went awfully quiet. You can’t blame Hyunjae for getting into suspicions.

“So you did?” Hyunjae gasps, grasping at the straws.

Juyeon sighs, reaching for his bag. His awfully big hand slips inside of the black backpack, fingers touching various things before he brings out a bunch of gifts: a keychain with the Eiffel tower, some magnets, postcards, a fashionable beret he found in one of the souvenir stores but never saw anyone actually wear in the whole 10 months in the streets of Paris, some perfume and high quality chocolate. Hyunjae’s eyes go wide, making satisfaction swim through Juyeon’s veins at the sight– he managed to deflect the attack.

Sometimes, having materialistic friends is a plus.

As he watches Hyunjae touch all the things on the table, fingers trailing over metal and the shiny wrapping of the dark chocolate with an acknowledging nod, Juyeon takes out another thing out of his bag– his digital camera that he brought along for the ride. He sent his friends a lot of pictures when he was in Paris, and he also posted quite a few on Instagram for everyone to see, but the camera held more memories and more moments than anyone’s ever seen before– it’s a source of treasure for himself as well, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to share a glimpse with his best friend.

“Wanna see? I took tons of pictures, but you can look through only the interesting ones, if you want to,” Juyeon hums, offering the camera to the male, the display already shining at him from the gallery, small icons of all pictures on the SD card in a 3x3 row on the small thing. 

A few pictures of the town are on preview right now, but if you scroll through the gallery, moments of his friend Marco’s birthday party that his friends threw for him, or the snapshots of his friend’s faces come into sight– Juyeon’s sure Hyunjae’s eager to see how all of the people he’s been talking to him about look like.

Hyunjae nods, taking the camera from him and squinting at the little icons. His fingers move along the touch screen and scroll through the gallery, eyes zooming on the interesting ones and grinning as he shows them to Juyeon, awaiting the backstory of a certain image. 

Everything goes well, until Hyunjae gets to the latest pictures on the SD card– well, apart from the ones Juyeon took from the window on his flight home. And Juyeon really doesn’t know what he was thinking, but hey– sometimes he doesn’t think things through as much as he should– and that’s why when a particular photo comes into his best friend’s sight, turning the camera towards Juyeon with a shiteating grin on his face, the question ‘Who’s that?’ makes the poor boy a bit shaken.

His tall figure, standing alongside someone shorter– you, in your vampire costume, fake blood running down the side of your mouth, a hand thrown over his shoulders and your side pressed into his a bit too close as he stares down onto you with an obviously star-struck face, suit covering his body in a poor attempt at Joker’s costume– the moment stares back at him like a haunted memory.

He clears his throat. “That’s… that’s just Y/N.”

Hyunjae hums, having a staring contest with the picture on the screen. The date on the bottom reads 31/10/23, the last day of Juyeon’s stay before he had to go home. “How come I’ve never heard about Y/N?”

“There wasn’t much to say, I guess,” Juyeon shrugs, taking a sip from the bottle of beer on the table.

“Sure…” Hyunjae doubtingly nods, scrunching up his nose in disbelief.

“I’m serious. She’s just a friend I met there,” Juyeon offers, licking his lips in nerves. 

And it’s the truth– you were just a friend and there really wasn’t much to say about you two– so why does Juyeon’s heart hurt a bit as he recognizes the events of the night as if it happened yesterday? Why does he feel nostalgic, maybe a little bitter about the way you two left off? 

Hyunjae doesn’t know, but there’s quite a few reasons why he never heard about you in the first place. Some were the cause of Juyeon’s insecurities in himself, some the cause of your relationship status, all the cause of his unrequited love and the way you broke his heart, making the whole memory of Paris a bit hazy and bittersweet and the leave, paradoxically, that much harder. 

But still– and maybe you’re the reason for it–

oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

31/10/2023

The buzzing of the room makes Juyeon’s already thumping head ache in its crevices, the smell of alcohol in the breath of everyone talking to him only making his stomach twist and turn with acid. He’s had his fair amount of drinks himself, but there is a very faint line between the amount that’s just enough to keep him going through the night and the amount that makes him puke and have a two-week hangover, and with the flight home he has to take tomorrow afternoon, he doesn’t think drinking more would be a good idea.

“Don’t break it!” Juyeon tiredly hurries out as he sees his friend Marco handle his camera, the device almost falling out of the foreign friend’s hands. 

“I won’t! Hold on, let me just–” the Italian mutters, the coating of vodka shots and the cheap red wine (made to look like blood to keep things festive) making his words slur together as he speaks. 

Juyeon reaches towards his drunk friend (while also questioning how he’s going to take a plane back to Italy tomorrow in a very hungover state) and tries to pray the prized possession out of his hands, but comes to a fail as the tall man waves him off with a theatral arm wave, shoving the poor boy towards the white wall and putting the camera up against his own face. “I’ll take your picture! So you can– you only take pictures of us, Juyo,” he rambles on, “I’ll take your picture so you can show it at home to your friends!” Marco grins, having Juyeon aimlessly sigh and stretch out his lips into a fake smile, waiting for his friend to take the picture so he can get his camera back to safety.

“Me too! Me too!” he suddenly hears from somewhere to his right, and before he has the chance to decipher the owner of the female voice, a weight on his shoulder tells him you just jumped at his side– almost topping him over and into the spooky decorations to his right– as you giggle into his ear. “Have it?”

“Aaaalmost!” Marco stretches out as he squints at the camera– and in the spare few seconds before the shutter goes off, Juyeon allows himself to stare down at your figure glued to his side. You’re wearing a dark lipstick on your smile, a drip of fake blood rolling down the side of your mouth. There’s a corset top enveloping your middle and a flowy black skirt only pulling the whole look together even with the absence of fangs– and while you don’t suck out his blood, Lee Juyeon can physically feel how you sucked out all oxygen out of his lungs in your sexy vampire costume. 

He’s seen you around tonight, but he never got the courage to walk up to you. Something about this being his last night in Paris might be the reason why. 

He was simply too bummed out about how things between you and him never went further than fits of laughter in class as you helped him with his French, or friendly hugs when you bid him goodbye at the corner of his street. Maybe it was his own fault for falling for someone so out of his reach. He always knew his stay in France was temporary– hell, he was an exchange student, he was aware of what he was getting himself into– but still, he couldn’t help but recognize the familiar warmth in his stomach whenever you were around and the strange racing of his heart whenever you were close enough for him to smell your shampoo for what it was. He was completely, utterly smitten with you– a french local that would be erased out of his lifestyle as soon as he lands back home in Korea.

The shutter of the camera is all it takes to break his train of thought, making him snap his head back to his Italian friend. A sigh of relief is heard in the room as Juyeon finally reunites with his digital camera (he was surprised to see Marco let go of it so easily), and before he has the chance to think of a conversation topic to indulge in with you, you have his words catching in his throat at your own pace of speech.

“Have you been here for long?” you ask, flattering your eyelashes at him. Juyeon gasps before he presses his lips together into a tight line, shrugging.

“A bit.”

“Why haven’t you said hi?” you frown. “You said it’s your last night! You wouldn’t leave without a goodbye, would you?” you shake your head at him, playfully poking his shoulder with your pointer finger.

He was going to. Not anymore, he guesses.

“No,” he disagrees instead, “I was gonna look for you when it was my turn to leave,” he quickly comes up with an explanation, having your features relax as a warm smile overtakes your pretty features again.

Even with your face all bloody and your eyes having dark circles under them from eyeshadow (and mascara that weared off a little, which you were completely unaware of), Juyeon finds you absolutely, utterly and fascinatingly beautiful. He’s glad no one is able to read his inner monologue– or else he’d be the one with blood running down the side of his face. If the punch to seal the cut would be coming from you or your boyfriend, he’s not quite sure. 

Maybe both. The main thing is, you’re taken and his feelings aren’t reciprocated. 

Which is why his silly crush on you that maybe, just maybe, turned into something more meaningful was that much damaging to his poor soul. 

Because Juyeon swears he never loved anyone before, but after spending the night with you drinking cheap wine in his empty dorm room on his birthday completely alone– since it fell on a Sunday this year and he didn’t have that many friends yet to celebrate with, only having spending 2 weeks in Paris at the time– during which you taught him French swear words and kissed his cheek goodbye (which he thought may be a cultural thing, although he wasn’t sure); after all of this, he felt like you’re the person he’ll think of when someone asks him about his first love when he's old.

And even if he had the balls to do anything about it (which he didn’t), he simply couldn’t. You were out of reach.

“You’d better,” you hum, “or else I’d hitchhike a plane and come over to Korea just to kick your ass.”

“You can’t hitchhike a plane, you weirdo.” 

You sigh, shaking your head. “Of course I can. Watch me.”

Juyeon finds himself grinning at the adorable determination in your voice. It makes him feel a certain type of way that he knows he shouldn’t– but after spending 10 months with the feelings (5 of which you were single, 5 of which you’ve spent dating your boyfriend) and absorbing the idea of leaving you and everything behind tomorrow, Juyeon no longer feels as guilty about the act of loving you. Not anymore– not tonight.

“I like your costume,” Juyeon comments, pointing to the attire you’ve dressed yourself in.

“Really?” your eyes light up. “Look, I even wore the bow my idiot of a boyfriend said looks tacky,” you say, making a little twirl for the man. Your skirt flows nicely in the air and you stumble a bit due to the alcohol in your system, but when Juyeon catches you by your forearms and steadies you, there’s a content smile sitting on your lips despite your previous sentence.

“It looks pretty on you,” Juyeon hums, nodding. “It’s not tacky at all.”

“I always knew you had more taste than him,” you sigh dramatically, making Juyeon question your actions. 

Oh? 

“Anyways, I like your costume as well,” you comment. 

“Thanks,” he says, although his half-assed attempt at a Joker’s costume wasn’t anywhere near your level of preciseness, “Shotaro was supposed to go as Harley to match with me, but he pulled out of it at the last minute,” Juyeon pouts.

“Gosh! That would’ve been fucking amazing,” you laugh, swatting your friend in the arm playfully– the way you always do when you laugh– but as you come down from it, there’s a bitter tone in your voice. “I asked my boyfriend to wear a couple’s costume too, but he said all my costume ideas were lame.”

“Y/N–” Juyeon starts, wanting to speak up about the matter very obviously present in the conversation, wanting to console you, say anything, but you cut him off again– your courtesy– with a shrug and a grin on your face made to mask your true emotions (didn't work. Juyeon knows you too well).

“It’s okay. That’s why I dressed up as a slutty vampire just to spite him,” you say. 

“What’s his costume?” Juyeon asks.

“Not sure. I think he just bought the Scream mask, or something,” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the male.

And now, Juyeon was never big on gossip. But if gossiping meant poking fun at your boyfriend, the last night before his plane back home takes off is not the time he’s passing on a snarky comment. “Lame.”

“I’m so glad we are on the same page, Juyo.”

His heart leaps at the nickname– a lot of people call him that, but the tone you say it in, the sweet melody of your voice as you throw it at him like a promise (of everything and nothing at all– you’re fond of him, but never fond enough), only you have this effect on him when you call him that. He wishes he had you saying his name recorded, documented somewhere on his phone, your accent and all, so he could hear you say it when he foolishly misses you in the middle of the night, like he knows he will when he lays awake at home, in his tiny, silent room.

“Do you want to get out for a bit? It’s getting too hot in here,” you say as you wave yourself, hoping to cool off, but failing miserably with the heat created from the bodies swimming through the house, and Juyeon finds himself nodding at your question.

Your feet drag you outside of the house, the cold breeze instantly cooling down your sweaty bodies. You two stand on the front porch together, watching the world around you revolve in a fast, yet slow manner– there are couples making out in the corner of the yard, one of them pressed up against the tree, and friends chasing each other down in zombie costumes, passing by bottles of alcohol between each other. 

Juyeon hears you hum, making him turn his head towards you and see you offering a cigarette to him. He'd never been much of a smoker before, but Europe taught him to never turn down a cigarette when offered, and so he only takes out one out of the pack, watching you mirror his movements. You fish for your lighter in your bra (and Juyeon finds himself too mesmerized to look away during the action), clicking it and putting the flame against the cigarette trapped between his lips.

He doesn’t know what it is about the action that makes his eyes hooded as he watches you– noticing the forgotten speck of glitter from some step of your makeup routine under your eye, making him want to swipe his thumb over it and take it off for you– but he can’t get his gaze off you as he breaths in the smoke, his head going more fuzzy than it has been only a few minutes prior.

When Juyeon’s cigarette is lit, you move to light your own, all while the male watches you with almost a dreamy look on his face. Somehow, he’s glad no one’s watching you. He doesn’t think he would be able to conceal his feelings for you tonight.

“Are you gonna miss this?” you suddenly ask, looking up at him from his right.

You? Absolutely. 

“I think so,” he nods, “it’s a lot different to home, but I made a lot of memories here.”

He watches a hint of smile spreading over your features. “Do you remember when you accidentally told our professor you were horny instead of excited?” you laugh.

“Oh, shut up,” Juyeon laughs at the memory. His French never really got to a perfect level– that’s why most of you settled on speaking English between each other– but the first few weeks were a living hell of a language barrier for Lee Juyeon. “The more concerning part is that this is what made you approach me,” he notes.

“Well, I recognised that you needed help, and I was willing to provide it,” you say, taking a drag out of the cigarette and blowing the smoke into his face.

Juyeon looks at you through the smoke cloud, snickering. “I’m kinda grateful, though. You were the first friend I made here.”

You look at him with a tender look– something so full of care Juyeon swears he feels his stomach doing somersaults– before you press your lips into a solemn smile. “Well, I’m honored, Juyeon Lee,” you drag out in a posh accent, making the boy break out into a laugh.

He takes another drag off the cigarette, inviting the nicotine into his system. Mixed with the alcohol in his veins and your aura surrounding him, he almost feels on cloud 9, like he’s flowing in space and he can’t get down. He watches as you lean over the railing of the porch, forearms meeting with the metal in a set of goosebumps. Breeze flies through the air, making your barely-clothed figure shiver.

He knows he probably shouldn’t. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside, and although you two are seemingly in a weird sort of fight, it’s not his place to act as a gentleman. 

Still, Juyeon finds he has nothing to lose. He shrugs off the suit jacket he’s been wearing and drapes it over your shoulders wordlessly, noticing the way you look back at him over your shoulder with a soft smile on your lips. 

A comforting silence overtakes you two. Juyeon takes the last drag off the cigarette and puts it out on the iron railing, enjoying the effect your sheer presence has on him. The music coming out of inside is only a mere background noise now, providing him an occasional distraction to the buzzing of his own thoughts.

“Say, Juyo,” you start, “do you know where Dorothy lives?” you ask.

Juyeon hums in disagreement. “Don’t think I do. Why?”

“I’m sleeping over at hers tonight,” you mumble, mentioning your best friend– the girl Juyeon’s met plenty of times in the 10 months of knowing you. “I was supposed to stay at Andre’s, but I’m not talking to him right now.”

“Oh,” is all Juyeon says. The mention of your boyfriend always throws him off the track a little.

“I dunno where Dorothy went, but I’m getting kind of sleepy.”

“Why can’t you just go home?” he asks.

“Juyo,” you laugh, “my parents would kill me if I got home tipsy and smelling like cigarette smoke. Don’t you know how they are?” you joke, shaking your head in disbelief.

He doesn’t. He kind of wishes he had the chance to know, though– because if he knew your parents, maybe it would imply something. Signify something more.

“Do you want me to walk you to Dorothy’s?” 

“Yeah,” you nod, lids heavy. Juyeon doesn’t know what time it is, but the last time he checked, it was well past midnight– he doesn’t think he’d stay around much longer himself.

“Okay,” he nods, watching as you slowly peel yourself off the railing and wear his suit jacket properly, the fabric drowning you, but keeping you warm. The sight, the sentiment of it, makes Juyeon’s hands shake and his throat go dry. You’re so close, yet so out of his reach.

Your feet are slow as you march towards the direction of your best friend’s house. Juyeon doesn’t know how far it is, but he wishes for you to take the long way home– if those are the last moments he has with you, he wants to drag the evening out the best he can.

The night is quiet. The only thing ringing in your ears is the sound of your own footsteps, when Juyeon surprises himself with the question that noisily cuts out of his throat.

“Why don’t you break up with him?” he asks.

He expects you to go mad at the question– you were known to have quite the fierce temper. You and Andre have had a few problems in the past: he was known to be reckless with his snarky comments that somehow hurt your pride, his nasty behavior when he got drunk, and the not-so-happy opinion your parents had of him. You were known to blow things out of proportion, screaming, crying and making a scene whenever you could if you thought it was appropriate, known to talk about your conflicts with your friends and digging out opinions out of them on the matter.

Juyeon always made sure to give you lukewarm arguments whenever you asked him about your boyfriend. Never too heated to make himself seem suspicious. Your relationship was none of his business.

Again– tonight, though, he has nothing to lose.

“I dunno,” you shrug, your steps a little uneven on the pavement, “it’s… a matter of habit, maybe? It’s weird,” you say. 

The explanation gives Juyeon just about nothing. A matter of habit? Is it a habit to stay with someone? Was there not more needed for a relationship?

Juyeon doesn’t find it in him to reply. Instead, he lets you talk.

“I think I might love him, or something. I’m not really sure…” you mumble, the sentences breaking Juyeon’s heart a little by little, shattering it right in front of you on the pavement, “because if I didn’t, why else would I put up with all of this?” you ask, not really expecting an answer.

“All the shaming, the spiteful remarks. The pettiness, the silent treatment… tell me, Juyo, do I have any dignity?” you laugh, shaking your head in disbelief.

“Y/N…”

The snicker that escapes out of you quickly turns bitter. Your body grows impossibly closer to his, your hands sneaking around his bicep. You walk with linked arms, your head falling to his shoulder. “I don’t think I really love him, though,” you suddenly rebuttal, “‘cause like… I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t tell my grandkids about Andre, y’know? I think that’s the way you know. If you can imagine thinking so fondly about someone that you… that you’d mention them even in 50 years, ‘cause the memories still feel fresh and you’re delighted you once knew them, then…” you trail off, voice fading.

“Do you know what I mean?” you hum, pouting.

He does know.

“Sorry, I’m rambling–”

“No, I get you,” he reassures you, nodding to himself. 

“You always do,” you sigh, breaking Juyeon’s heart into a million pieces, “anyways, with that being said… I think I’m with him only because breaking up is too much of a hassle. And, I think I like the attention,” you splutter, laughing at yourself, “that’s… so desperate of me, I know. I’m starting to doubt if it’s even worth it.”

“He’s not,” Juyeon finds himself saying as you two cross the corner.

“You’re only saying that as my friend.”

“No, I’m saying that as your– as someone who cares…?” he stutters, mentally kicking himself for sounding so readable. Surely, you must’ve already noticed. If not from his current statement, then from the way he looked at you the whole night. You are a smart girl– you were always quick to point out the men that would soon hit on you when you were at the club. You have a good eye when it comes to others.

You only laugh, though. Oh, how Juyeon loves the sound.

“Thank you,” you hum.

You two fall silent for a while. Juyeon finds himself enjoying it. It feels comfortable– to walk with you through the emptied Paris, accompanied by the yellow lampposts and soulless streets. Only you two, your linked arms and his suit jacket around your shoulders.

“We’re at Dorothy’s,” you muse when your steps come to a halt, gesturing towards the silent, dark house on the other side of the street, “I think she’s not home yet, though. Her light would be on.”

Chewing on the inside of his cheek, Juyeon looks from the house and back at you, then back at the seemingly empty house again. “And now what?”

“I have to wait for her,” you shrug, “will you… keep me company?”

You don’t even have to ask. He’d always keep you company. 

“Well, I’m not just gonna let you stand alone in the street in the middle of the night, am I?” he playfully shakes his head in disbelief, but secretly enjoys the fact that he has more time with you before you have to pay each other goodbye.

“Always knew you were a gentleman.”

“Pretty sure that was my middle name,” he notes.

“I thought you said that was ‘handsome’ once?”

“I have two,” he laughs.

“Is that possible?” you tease.

“Of course! Look it up,” he says, turning to you as he talks. “My name’s actually Lee Handsome Gentleman Juyeon, it’s on my ID and everything,” he jokes, watching as your eyes turn into moon crescents and your throat lets out a fit of amused giggles.

Another playful punch to his shoulder. A happy sigh. A shake of your head, full of disbelief. 

“Damn, Juyo. I’ll miss you like crazy, you know?” you suddenly utter, making the boy’s heart fall down into his stomach. The implication of your words sounds a lot like a goodbye, and although he was aware of the fact that he was leaving before, he doesn’t think he really let the reality down on him until now. 

This time tomorrow, there will be no Paris. No Marco. No Shotaro. No Bence. No French locals, no bagels for breakfast, no shitty ass dorm room.

No you.

“I’ll miss you more,” he says. He thinks he’s right.

You’ll miss him like a friend. He’ll miss you like his first love.

You stare at him for a heartbeat. One, two– before you latch onto him, much like when you first met tonight. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him close, head resting on his shoulder only when you notice his hands wrapping around your middle. Breathing in your scent, Juyeon focuses very hard to keep his heart rate in check– it’s hard to not falter under your touch when your nose buries itself into his neck, cold skin nuzzling into his hot one, hands squeezing him tighter.

Juyeon doesn’t think you’ve ever hugged him like this before. 

And now, you won’t ever again.

You break away from him only enough to still be in his hold, your forehead resting against his. The new intimacy between the two of you makes him gulp, eyes focused into yours– watching the silver and gold swirl around your irises, counting your eyelashes. Noticing the faint mole on the top of your nose bridge. 

Foolishly letting his eyes dip lower. Memorizing the shape of your lips with his gaze. Taking in a shaky breath when he feels your fingers playing with the hair on his nape.

“Will you tell your grandkids about Paris?” you ask, voice barely louder than a whisper. Juyeon would almost think you’re suggesting something with your question, but when you speak up again, the suspicion is proved correct. “Will you tell them about me?”

The boy drags his eyes up back to yours. He examines the intention. He finalizes that he has nothing left to lose. 

Tomorrow, this will all be a memory. A moment out of his reach– much like you, all this time. A moment of time he experienced and won’t ever get back.

“I will,” he nods, swallowing. “Will you?”

You smile at the boy, the curve of your lips capturing his attention again. If anyone asked, he’d tell them it’s pure biology– the way his eyes zoomed in on your mouth the moment your expression changed. That’s how attention fluctuates– he learned about it in class somewhere, he’s fairly certain.

Why he’s unable to look back into your eyes after the question is a matter of something else, though.

“I think I might,” you breathe out.

There’s buzzing in his fingertips as he relishes the moment. The sentiment makes his knees weak, his brain fuzzy, his sight blurry and a little hazed. When he finally catches a glimpse of your gaze, he finds it glued to his mouth. 

He could take it as an invitation. 

He won’t, though.

“Kiss me?” you ask, whispering.

He shakes his head in disapproval. “I can’t.” 

Not when you’re taken. Not when he’s aware. Not when he knows you might regret this in the morning.

“Can I kiss you, then?” you ask. 

That, however, is a whole other situation. 

You asked to. You're making the first step. He doesn't have to feel guilty– who cares whether either of you might regret this decision tomorrow.

A simple nod–

that’s all it takes before you lock your lips with his. Your mouths move against each other with a passion he’s contained for his whole stay. You taste like vodka and orange juice, the slickness of your lip gloss making Juyeon’s lips slide against yours with more ease. He kisses you like you’d kiss your first love– with everything in him, with everything he is. 

He kisses you in a way that shows he wants to remember this forever. In a way that makes you lean even closer, pressing up firmly against him as you angle your head to make the kiss deeper. One of your hands moves from behind his head to twist itself deeper into his hair, tugging a little at the root to make the boy gasp under your actions. That has you inviting your tongue into his mouth, eager to taste him, to explore.

Juyeon doesn’t think he’s ever been kissed like this. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so vulnerable, so open while kissing someone. This is him with his heart on a plate, naked and ready to be stabbed, squished by the weight of circumstances breathing onto his back.

His cold fingers move along your sides. Your hands settle on his shoulders to steady yourself, head pulling away to gasp for oxygen.

You look so pretty when he opens his eyes. Lipstick smudged and eyes blown out, hair a little messy from the October wind. He’s like an addict presented with his favorite drug– he can’t get enough, he can’t resist as he chases after you, leaving kisses along your jaw and the corner of your mouth, where the blood is, slowly meeting your lips again in another lock.

Everything else disappears. In this moment, there’s just you, you, you…

No flights. No weight of his own conscience. No boyfriends, no unsaid feelings. 

No regret.

And Juyeon thought he had nothing to lose, but suddenly, with you in his arms, he feels as if he’s being stripped of everything he never even had, only got the glimpse of last minute, a few hours before he’s gone.

You lean away again. Juyeon watches you with big eyes. A smile appears on your face as you move a finger up to his face, cleaning up the side of his mouth off the dark lipstick you’ve imprinted on him. He feels fragile under your touch. One bad move and he breaks, falls apart under you.

“You have to come back to visit one day,” you whisper, cradling the side of his face.

Juyeon nods. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever get the chance.

But as you stand on your tippy toes and press a kiss to his forehead, making a million different fireworks erupt in his stomach, he doesn’t let himself think of that (im)possibility. He watches as you smile at him, locking your eyes in a gaze tender and soft, yet electrifying, holding something special.

Before you take off to meet your best friend walking up the other side of the street, you hug him one last time and whisper into his ear.

“Goodbye, Juyo.”

Seeing as you lock your arms with Dorothy, walking up into the silent house and never looking back, Juyeon lets himself feel the last hint of longing for someone he always knew would never be his. And it’s strange, because he hasn’t even left yet, 

but oh, how he’d love to go to Paris again.

[itsbeeble]

Doll

Summary: You and Hyunjae had never really gotten along. But, since he was your brother’s best friend, you couldn’t exactly avoid him your whole life. Especially now that Sangyeon has enlisted Hyunjae to help you study for your classes.

Genre: Fluff, Smut, e2l (kinda)

Pairing: brother’s best friend!Lee Hyunjae x afab!reader

WC: ~6.5k

WARNINGS UNDER CUT

Warnings: Uhhh public sex (car sex), slight age gap (Hyunjae is two years older than reader), oral (m and fem receiving), pet names, switch!Hyunjae, switch!reader, Haknyeon might be scarred for life, swearing, mentions of chemistry, they make out in a library, face-fucking kinda, threats, reader almost kicks the bucket, Hyunjae jumps out a window, Sangyeon is NOT happy, idrk there’s a lot happening MDNI!!!

A/N: Yeah this is uh... yeah

~

“This is so easy, how are you not understanding?” Hyunjae is hunched over beside you, scowling at the seemingly infinite number of red marks he’d made on your worksheet. You scoff at him.

“Sorry to burst your little bubble, Lee Jaehyun, but maybe you should consider the fact that Chemistry doesn’t come easy for everyone.” Maybe take that stick out of your ass and you’d see that.

Lee Jaehyun, or as most people like to call him, Hyunjae was a straight A student. He was nearly perfect in everything. Perfect grades, perfect voice, perfect face, perfect body. He was perfect when it came to the sports he played, he had the perfect family and home. The only horrid thing about him was his attitude. 

He was cruel. To you, at least. Maybe just to you, his best friend’s little sister. Maybe he just didn’t like you because you always seemed to be around, always trying to one-up him in everything related to school. Trying to be better than him at math, at english, at extracurriculars. You joined the debate team in high school just to spite him. And he’d be damned if he ever said he felt threatened by you. 

If you were being honest, you really didn’t hate him. You liked him, even though he clearly didn’t care for you. You looked up to him, similar to how you looked up to your brother, but Hyunjae was different. He wasn’t just your brother’s best friend. At some point you started going out of your way to try to impress him, even if it never ended well for you. You wanted to spend more time with him, get to know him more. 

“I would think that you’d be decent at this,” he sneers at you, “given how you seem to be so good at everything else.” You bite down on your tongue and turn back to the worksheet. The mistakes you’d made were so silly, so you understand why he’d be confused that you’re getting them wrong. Simple miscalculations when balancing equations, simple miscalculations for enthalpy. All of them were simple, and yet somehow you consistently got them wrong. “Your brother wouldn’t be making these mistakes. I thought you idolized him.” 

“I’m not Sangyeon,” you snap. “Plus, why would he be taking a chemistry class as an Econ major? He doesn’t need this shit.”

“Gen eds, doll.” Hyunjae smirks at you. “We all had to do them at some point.” 

Your tongue was starting to hurt from how hard you were biting on it to avoid yelling at him. You’d forgotten that Sangyeon and Hyunjae were already in their third year of college while you were barely starting your second. 

“Don’t call me doll,” you slide your chair forward and lower your head. “Give me another worksheet.” Hyunjae shakes his head. “Dude, give me a worksheet. Let me try again.”

“I’m not giving you another worksheet,” he says as he begins to pack up his things. “You clearly aren’t understanding anything I’m teaching you, so why should I keep helping?” You rise from your chair at the same time as he does, your eyes going wide. 

“There’s no way you’re giving up because I get mixed up sometimes.” He looks down at you, almost annoyed that you’re still talking to him. “Lee Jaehyun, you cannot be serious.”

“I’m dead serious, doll. I don’t know why your brother asked me to help you when it’s clear there’s nothing I can do for you.” He turns to walk away, and your hand latches onto his wrist, attempting (and failing) to pull him back. He’s taller than you and definitely a lot stronger. You barely even get him to wobble on his feet, and he hardly stops walking toward the exit of the library. Now, you’re just being dragged along with him. 

“Why do you hate me so much?” You jog to stand in front of him, walking backwards (in hindsight, you should’ve known that was a bad idea). “Like, I’ve never done anything wrong to you but you just fucking hate me for no reason. Why?” He’s looking down at you while he walks, jaw tense and eyes narrowed into a glare. 

“You’re stuck up and think you’re better than everyone.” 

“Yeah, but so do you!” You argue. 

“You’re more annoying about it though. Like everyone has to know that you think you’re better than them.” He spits out, and the two of you stop walking, standing outside of the library. The cold air of November bites into your skin, slipping through the gaps of your knit sweater. “You just have to brag about every achievement you get, about every goal you make in soccer, and every award you get from school. You think you’re just some fucking princess that everyone needs to bow down to.” 

“Again, you’re the same way!” You snap. You’re walking backwards again, hardly paying attention to where you’re going with how focused you are on Hyunjae. “You’re constantly shooting me down, when all I’ve ever done is look up to you! All I’ve ever done is try to impress you, but you just have to make me feel bad about myself huh?” 

Hyunjae’s eyes widen a fraction, his lips parting as he listens to you talk. He’s not walking any longer, but you are. You’re backing toward the stairs leading to the parking lot and he reaches forward to stop you.

“Doll,” he tries to get your attention but you’re on a tangent now.

“Maybe I went too far sometimes, but it’s only because you’re my brother’s best friend and I wanted you to notice me!” 

“Doll,” Hyunjae tries again and takes a step forward. You’re getting closer to the first step, just inches from backing off the edge. 

“But you’re right. Little old Lee Y/N can’t possibly be worth helping, she’s too dumb for you isn’t she? She isn’t enough for you to not—” 

“Y/N!” Hyunjae lurches forward when your foot slips from under you. For a moment you flail in the air, arms waving while you attempt to get your balance. Your brother’s best friend grabs one of your arms, yanking you toward him and pressing you tightly to his chest. Your body spun, and you found yourself pressed against the railing, your face squished against the tall man who had his arms wrapped fully around you.

You can feel your heart pounding, and you can feel his own, It’s rapid against your cheek, slamming against his ribs. He’s warm. His body is warm, and your hands tighten around his jacket. Call it desperation, but you know this is the only time Hyunjae would ever touch you and you wanted to make the most of it while it lasted.

“Are you dumb?” Hyunjae pulls you away from you, holding you an arms-length away while he scans you over. “Why the fuck would you walk backward near a staircase?” He looks angry, and you duck your head into your chest. 

“I’m sorry,” you mutter, “I know it was stupid but I just—” 

“What if you had gotten hurt, doll?” He interrupts, his grip on your shoulders tightening. “What then, huh? I’d never be able to forgive myself.” 

“Didn’t realize you cared that much about me,” you try to joke. His frown only deepens, and you begin to shrink in on yourself. 

“Of course I care about you!” Your heart begins to pound again. “You’re my best friend’s little sister, why wouldn’t I care about you?” And then it sinks. You just got best-friend’s-little-sister-zoned. 

You wonder if he ignored everything you’d said before the fall. Maybe he did. Maybe it’s for the best that he did. Save yourself the rejection, move on with your life. Easy enough. 

“I dunno,” you shrug, “figured you hated me enough to let me fall.” Hyunjae scoffs and grabs you by the arm to start dragging you back to the car.

“Idiot.”

~

“So what you’re telling me,” Haknyeon sits across from you, his chemistry textbook open but going ignored as he listens to you talk about what happened with Hyunjae. Since the staircase…incident he hasn’t spoken to you, and you really needed to pass chemistry so you enlisted your friend to help. “He calls you doll, acts like he hates you, then you confess to him and fall down the stairs, he saves you in the most romantic way, then brother’s-best-friend-zones you?” 

“Yeah, pretty much,” You dig your pencil into your lip, listening to it click while you read through one of the practice problems that Haknyeon gave you. “And since then he hasn’t spoken to me.” 

“What a dick. You’re doing that one wrong, by the way.” He slides his chair across the library’s old carpet to sit next to you. “Finding the delta-H of a reaction is products minus reactants, not the other way around.” His shoulder is brushing against yours while he explains and writes down how to do the problem correctly. 

One of the doors to the library opens and you glance up, almost immediately locking eyes with Hyunjae. Your stomach sinks when he narrows his eyes at Haknyeon.

“Oh shit,” you mutter, dropping your gaze again.

“Please don’t tell me that Lee Hyunjae just walked into the library and currently looks like he wants my head on a spike.” Your friend is now frozen, speaking quietly out of the corner of his mouth.

“I will not confirm nor deny any of what you just said.”

“If that man kills me, I will kill you.” Haknyeon hisses, and you just smile at him. Hyunjae is sitting at a table nearby, and you feel that familiar sinking feeling in your chest when he looks at you again.

“He’s not gonna kill you. Laugh as if I said something funny.” You jab him in the side and he starts cackling loudly, gathering the attention of several other students around you. “Not that loud, genius!” He quiets his laughter, and you can see the flush rising on his cheeks. “God you’re dumb.”

“What am I supposed to do? The hottest man I’ve ever seen looks like he’ll snap me in half if I touch you! I’m terrified!” He grabs you by the shoulder, and you hear his chair scrape against the ground. “Oh god he’s gonna kill me and it’s your fault, you bitch.” 

“Y/N,” Hyunjae’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, and he bends down to the opposite ear so you can hear him better. Your body goes rigid, and you feel his breath brushing against the side of your neck. “A word, please?” You turn your head, leaning back so you aren’t so close to him. He’s staring at you, a mix of emotions swimming in his eyes. 

“Uh,” you glance at your friend, but he’s already shoving his face back into his textbook. “Yeah, sure. Hak, I’ll be—”

“Yup, go ahead, have fun.” Your friend spits out and then Hyunjae is pulling you up and walking you toward a dark corner of the library.

“Is this where you kill me?” You joke, but he doesn’t laugh. He’s facing away from you, hands shoved into the pockets of a loose jacket. “Damn, killjoy much?”

“You sure move on fast, huh?” You reel back and he turns to face you completely, a small smile practically stapled to his lips. “With tutoring, I mean. You were able to replace me just fine.”

“Oh, uh,” you blink, “yeah I guess. Hak is a great…teacher? Jaehyun are you okay?” His jaw tenses before he responds again, taking a few steps toward you until he’s just inches from you, and you’re pressed against a bookshelf. 

“You know you’re the only person who calls me Jaehyun? Not even my own parents call me that.” His head is tilted, his eyes half-lidded while he looks at you. “Why is that?”

“I, um,” your brain is faltering, overwhelmed by him. The way he looms over you, the way his fingers dance across your waist, the way he’s looking at you like you’re his last meal. “I don’t— spite, maybe? Jae, you’re getting really…really close.”

“Does that bother you, doll?” He asks, he’s only a few inches away, and you’re getting the urge to lean up and press your lips against his. 

“N-nope. Not at all. In fact,” Your hands are wrapped around his jacket, holding him so he can’t step away from you, “this is great.” He smiles, and you don’t see joy in it. You see mischief and lust. 

“Really?” 

“Mhm.” One of his hands slides up to grip your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 

“And what if,” his voice is just a whisper, his breath fanning your cheek when he tilts your head to the side. “I did this?”

His lips are warm against your skin. Warm, and soft, and your breath is hitching in your throat andd you know he can feel it. Hyunjae kisses your neck right below your ear, his teeth just scraping against the tender skin and his lips sucking gently. Your eyes are fluttering, your body leaning closer to his. His hand releases your jaw, finding its way back to your waist while your own hands slide up to tangle in his hair. 

He slides his lips down, trailing them across your neck and sucking little pink marks into the skin. 

“Should—” you stumble over your sentence when Hyunjae pulls your shirt to the side, placing kisses to your collarbone. “Should we b-be doing this?” He hums, and the vibrations against your skin have you gasping.

“What do you mean, doll?” He pulls away, leaning back up to look you in the eye. His eyes are halflidded and dark, filled with the lust you had seen in his smile. Your jaw drops open a bit, your hands sliding back down to his shoulders when he leans toward you again. 

“I just— I mean— what would Sangyeon think?” Hyunjae rolls his eyes. “I’m seri—” He’s kissing you before you can finish that sentence. It’s a rough, searing kiss and the suddenness has you gasping. With your mouth now open, Hyunjae is able to slip his tongue into your mouth. It dances along your own, tracing every inch of the wet cavern of your mouth. Your lips are slightly chapped against his, and you wonder if he notices. You wonder if he cares, but the way he groans against your mouth tells you he doesn’t. That he cares only about the way your lips mold against his, the way your tongue dances against his own, and the way your body seems to fit perfectly to his. 

“Who—” his lips press against yours as he speaks, “cares— what— he— thinks?”

Hyunjae presses further against you, pressing you into the bookshelf, and you can feel the kiss becoming sloppy. You can feel the spit beginning to slide down your chin, but when you try to wipe it away your brother’s best friend pins your arm above your head. You squeak into his mouth, feeling him smile against you. 

He pulls back just slightly, catching your lower lip between his teeth and watching your eyes flutter, listening to the whine that escapes you. 

Hyunjae says something to you, something you don’t catch, and then he squeezes your hip.

“Sorry. What did you say?” He smiles, and this time you know he’s amused. There’s a little twinkle in his eye, and you find yourself smiling along with him.

“I said,” he drawls, “that we should get out of here.” 

“Oh…” you hum. “Yeah, no, yeah we should.” He tilts your head up again, his eyes narrowing.

“Are you okay, doll?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” You reassure him, “Just…a little shocked, I guess?” 

“Shocked,” he echoes, tilting his head to the side. “Shocked about what, doll?” You shrug, your cheeks starting to burn from the way he stares at you. 

“You’re just…you’re a really good kisser.” You’re mumbling, but you know by the way his smile grows that he heard you.

“What was that?” He coos, turning his head so he can “hear you better”. You scoff. “I didn’t quite catch what you said. I’m a really good what?”

“I said you’re a dick,” you snap and push him away from you, your cheeks now blazing. He trails after you, practically giggling at the reaction he pulled out of you. Haknyeon is still at the table when you come into view and you see his eyes go wide when he sees you.

“What…happened to you?” You grab your jacket and bag, shaking your head. 

“I’ll tell you tomorrow, Hak.” You feel Hyunjae’s hand on the small of your back, urging you along and you watch your best friend’s eyes bug out of his head. 

“He— you— are you two—”

“She said she’ll tell you tomorrow, Hak.” Hyunjae says sharply, now firmly pushing you along. “Let’s go, doll.” 

~

You’re in his car, straddling his waist in the backseat. Your lips are pressed against his in a rough kiss, much sloppier than in the library. It’s a mess of tongue and teeth and spit and his skin is so warm against yours. Your hands are underneath his shirt, but his are under your own shirt. You can feel goosebumps rising on your skin where his hands trace. Your waist, your stomach, your back, underneath your breasts. He’s so gentle with you. You, on the other hand, are rough. Your hands are digging into the skin of his abdomen, sliding across his abs and up to his chest. He hisses when your nails dig into him, undoubtedly leaving little crescents into his golden skin. 

You pull away only briefly, a string of spit connected between the two of you. He’s staring at you with awestruck eyes, staring at the marks he left on your skin, at the knots he made in your hair, at the stretched collar of your shirt from where he pulled on it. 

“What happened to what Sangyeon would think?” Hyunjae’s hand slip to cup your ass over your jeans. 

“I’m not the one that’s gonna have to tell him that his best friend fucked his little sister in the backseat of his car in the library parking lot.” You tug your shirt over your head, tossing it to the front seat. To be fair, Hyunjae moved the car into the darkest corner of the lot, but his windows weren’t tinted and if security came around to check what was up, you’d both be fucked (in more ways than one). “Besides, should you really be worrying about that right now?”

Hyunjae lowers his mouth to your chest, placing wet, sloppy kisses to the soft skin while you unhook your bra and let it slide off your arms. 

“You’re really gonna make me do it? All on my own?” He gazes up at you and you can only smile at him.

“If you want me to suck your dick, yeah. You will.” His grip on your waist tightens and his eyes go wide. You lift his head, connecting your lips again as you begin to roll your hips against his. He hisses out, letting his head fall back at the sudden pressure against his growing erection. You let your eyes drift closed, enjoying the friction, enjoying the pleasure each roll of your hips sends up your spine until you decide it isn’t enough. Until the quiet, gasping breaths that escape the boy under you aren’t enough. Until you need more.

You force yourself off of him, pushing yourself as far back as you can in the cramped backseat of his car, the little waves of pleasure dissipating as you undo the button of your pants and begin to tug them down. Hyunjae watches you, eyes hazy and chest heaving under his shirt. You pause in your motions and stare at him with a cocked eyebrow. 

“What?” He exhales heavily and you scoff, kicking his leg. He hisses, lifting his head and glaring at you.

“You really think I’m gonna be the only one undressing? Take your shit off, Lee Jaehyun.” He sits up, leaning toward you. Challenging you.

“Why would I do that, doll?” He coos. “I quite enjoy the little show you’re putting on for me.” You can hear the little tremor in his voice, can see his cock straining against his jeans. You love the act he puts on, the way he wants you to think he’s in charge, so you play along.

You widen your eyes, playing the role of a desperate little girl. He may be older, but you’re smarter. You’ve known him long enough to get an idea of what he likes, just based on what you’ve accidentally overheard from his conversations with your older brother. 

“Jae,” you practically purr, leaning forward and letting him see the way you’re squeezing your breasts together with your arms. He watches you lace your hands together, tenses when you place them on his knees and bring yourself forward until your mouth is right next to his ear. His breathing hitches when your breasts brush against his chest. “Can you please take your clothes off, baby?” You press a gentle kiss to his jaw. “I promise I’ll be good.” 

He doesn’t respond, but you can hear him shuffling, hear the zipper of his pants and feel him shoving the garment down his legs as fast as he can. His shirt follows after, and you lean back with a pretty little smile on your lips as you slowly pull your jeans down. Hyunjae watches you carefully, practically drooling as more and more of your skin is exposed to him. More for him to touch, to feel, to play with. 

When the last bit of your legs is exposed and your jeans are thrown to the side, he tugs you onto his lap again. You both hiss when his fully erect cock presses against your core, when the slick fabric of your underwear brushes against him and leaves a small damp spot on his boxers. Your hand rises to the back of his neck, nails scratching gently as you begin to roll your hips again. 

You aren’t slow this time, you aren’t gentle with him. You grind against him as if you’re already riding his cock. You roll your hips in gentle circles, pressing down hard with each drag of your hips. This is the pleasure you were searching for. This is soothing the ache that had been building and building since the night at the staircase. 

You listen to the pitiful whines that leave Hyunjae’s mouth, listen to the gasps, and the pleas. You feel the way he lifts his hips to meet yours, thrusting harder and harder with each moan of his name that leaves your mouth. 

“D-doll,” Hyunjae whimpers, “Y/N, please. ‘M s-so close, doll, please.” 

“Please what, baby?” You lower your head to his neck, sucking harsh purple marks into his skin and running your tongue over each one to sooth the burn you know is there. “Hmm? What do you need from your doll?”

“You pro-promised,” he pleaded, squeezing at your hips and trying desperately to get you to stop. You can feel his dick twitching underneath you, and your hips only move faster and harder against him. You can see the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“What did I promise, Jae?” You ask. “Tell me.”

“You prom— promised you’d— that you’d suck me off.” You kiss your teeth, slowing your hips. Your own body is screaming at you, begging you for the release you’d just ripped away from both of you. You, unlike Hyunjae, are good at hiding how desperate you really are to have him inside of you. He’s still thrusting into you, whining at the loss of pleasure. 

“I did, didn’t I?” You run the back of your hand down his cheek and watch him lean into your touch. “I can’t let my baby suffer now, hmm? Not after he asked so nicely.” 

Hyunjae watches in awe as you slide to the ground in front of him, tugging his boxers down with you. He watches as you brush your hand over his leaking cock, running your thumb over the slit and digging in. He whines loudly, jerking his hips into your touch. 

You pull your hand away just briefly to spit into your palm, using that and the pearly liquid leaking from his tip to help run your hand up and down on his length, squeezing gently when you get closer to his tip. 

When your lips finally wrap around him, a shudder runs down Hyunjae’s body, his back arching and his head falling back. There’s a brief moment between when you first put your mouth on him to when you begin to suck, one where you just watch the older boy twitch and shudder under your touch. 

You don’t linger too long, shifting and rising a bit on your knees so you can take more of him down your throat. Your hands grip at his thighs, squeezing tightly when he hits the back of your throat and you have to hold yourself back from gagging. You pull yourself back up, suckling at his tip before bringing yourself back down onto him, taking a bit more of him into your mouth. You repeat these actions until you’re able to take all of him into your mouth. 

From there, when you take him down your throat you moan around him, letting the vibrations hit him until his hips jerk up and he’s sent impossibly farther down your throat before pulling yourself back up and digging your tongue into his slit and drinking in the precum that leaks from his cock. He’s a whining, blubbering mess, begging you to go faster. To make him cum. To do anything except tease him, but you don’t listen. You take your time, occasionally pulling off his dick entirely just to watch him suffer. 

“‘M close again,” he chokes out, barely heard above the sloppy noises of you choking on his cock time and time again. His eyes, up until this point, have been squeezed shut. He’s afraid that if he looks at you, he’ll bust right then and there. “Fuck, doll, please.” 

He makes the fatal mistake of opening his eyes, making direct eye contact with you. His breath hitches in his throat again, his chest tightening. You look so messy, drool running down your chin and onto his balls. Your make up is running down your cheeks, your hands squeezing so tightly at his thighs. 

It just takes you sending him into the back of your throat one more time for him to regain control of himself, gripping your hair and sitting up a bit. Your eyes go wide when he thrusts into your mouth the first time. He hears you gag, but he’s just so close. He’s so close, and he can’t help how his hips move faster and faster, each brush of his tip against the back of your throat sending him spiraling just a bit more out of control.

“You thought I’d just let you take control?” he hisses, tugging your face towards his hips when you try to pull away. He can hear your muffled sobs, hear you gagging on him. “Let you run this show? Pretty girl, you have no idea what you just got yourself in—to—” He stutters his last word, his eyes rolling into the back of his head while he empties his load into your throat. He hears you choke and pulls back, letting the last ropes of cum paint your cheeks and your chin while more spills out the side of your mouth. 

Hyunjae gasps for breath, watching you pull yourself back onto the seat with your back pressed against the door. He watches you run your fingers through the mess on the lower half of your face, bringing it to your lips. You whine at the taste of him, and he feels his cock twitching back to life already. 

Then he notices the lack of underwear on your body. Sometime between you taking control, and him forcing it back you stripped yourself of the last bit of clothing on your body. He turns toward you, wrapping a hand around each of your legs to spread you open. Your eyes are wide again, and you try to protest when he lowers himself to be face-to-face with your sopping wet cunt. 

“Such a pretty doll,” he murmurs, bringing a finger to your slit and collecting some of your juices. Your body twitches, trying to pull away from him but he just pulls you closer. “So cute, still trying to be in control of something.” 

He runs his tongue all the way up the length of your pussy, stopping to suck on your clit before bringing his tongue back down and repeating that again and again and again. You writhe underneath him, moaning loudly when he digs his tongue into you, practically fucking you with it before he’s slipping two fingers inside of you. You knew it would sting with just one of his fingers, but the burn of two fingers pushing inside of you and immediately beginning to pump in and out of you at a rapid pace has you crying out and curling away from him. He just holds you closer, his fingers scissoring in and out and his mouth sucking relentlessly and the knot inside of you is growing so tight, your body curling and your hands gripping his hair tightly. 

Then your body goes slack, your vision blurring and your ears ringing as you release all over the bottom half of his face. He doesn’t relent, doesn’t stop drinking up your release until you’re kicking your legs and shoving his body away from you. 

You both gasp for breath, trying to recover. Your body is tingling with your release and you can see Hyunjae leaning against the door opposite you, running his hand up and down his length while he watches you, waiting for his cock to become erect again so he can fuck you.

“So,” his voice is rough, “now that we’re somewhat even, I vote that we both tell Sangyeon that I fucked his little sister in the backseat of my car.” You roll your eyes.

“I just gave you the best suck of your life, and you think I’m gonna tell my big brother that his best friend fucked me? His best friend that’s two years older than me?”

“You’re 21,” Hyunjae frowns, “two years isn’t that bad. If you were 14 and I was 16, then it would be weird, but that’s not the case. We’re both legal adults in college.” His hand slows on his cock, but he keeps his fingers wrapped around the tip. You run your tongue over your lip.

“Jaehyun, I thought you hated me. What changed?” He shrugged.

“Simple. I never hated you. Sure for a while you were just my best friend’s annoying sister, but like…I dunno. I never really hated you, I just didn’t know how else to interact with you. What about you? I thought you hated being around me.”

“Yeah because I wanted to make out with you half the time you were around,” you roll your eyes and let your head rest against the steamed window. Hyunjae sputters out a laugh, throwing his head back and yelping when it slams against the glass. You gasp and jump forward, crawling over his lap to cradle his head.

“Shit, Jae, are you alright?” You run your fingers through his hair, feeling for where his hit his head. He lets his forehead rest against your collarbone, still laughing. “Why would you throw your head back like that?”

“You sure have a funny way of showing that you like me, you know that, doll?” His lips press gently into your skin and you flick the side of his head. He hisses under his breath and pinches your hip. 

“You worry me sometimes, Lee Jaehyun.” He hums and brings his hands to your hips. “You gonna fuck me now?” He kisses his teeth and pushes you off his lap until you’re on the leather seats again. 

“Hands and knees, doll,” he instructs and you grin.

“Ooh, doggy style. Didn’t think you liked that kind of thing.” You roll onto your hands and knees, lowering the front half of your torso until you’re able to lay your head on your hands and (sort of) gaze back at Hyunjae. You watch him pull a foil packet out of the center console and click your tongue. “Only use one if you want to. I’m clean and on birth control. As long as you’re clean and fine with it, you don’t have to.” You watch the man behind you shudder again.

“God, Sangyeon really is gonna fuckin’ kill me, doll.”

“Problem for tomorrow, really.” You suck in a sharp breath when you feel his tip pressing into your entrance. A quite whine escapes you at the stretch, and Hyunjae rubs your sides to sooth you while he continues to slowly press himself inside of you.

“Almost there, baby.” He assures you. “Just a bit over halfway.”

“Are you shitting me?” you whine. “Why the fuck are you so big?”

“Good genetics, doll.” You feel his hips against your ass and your body relaxes slightly. “Tell me when, okay?” 

“Just fucking go already,” you hiss, fighting through the stretch. “God, just fuck me Hyunjae, please.” Your hips roll back against his and he exhales shakily. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“It’s either me or my brother, pick one baby.” 

Your teeth dig into your lip when Hyunjae gives an experimental, shallow thrust into you. He pulls out a few more inches and thrusts into you again. When he pulls himself out all the way to the tip, he inhales sharply before plunging into you. Your body jerks forward at the force of it, a moan escaping you, and then he’s plowing into you at full force. 

Hyunjae drives his hips into you hard and fast, your body jerking forward so much that you have to grab onto the door to stop yourself from hitting it. The moans you let out become loud cries and screams of his name and you know that if there’s anyone left in the parking lot, they’ll know exactly what’s happening. You can only pray that they know better than to approach the window, pray that they can’t see the way you beg for Hyunjae to move faster, to go harder if that were possible. 

“Such a good, pretty girl for me,” Hyunjae tangles a hand in your hair, yanking you back into his chest. The new angle has his cock driving into that spongey spot inside of you time and time again. “So pretty like this, filled with me. But what would Sangyeon think, hm? What will he think of his pretty little sister getting fucked senseless by his best friend, someone he trusted to look after her while she studies?”

“F-fuck, Hyunjae, please!” You beg, clawing at his hands and his hips and the back of his neck. “Fuck, harder, baby, harder!’

“You want me to go harder baby?” Hyunjae coos, sliding one of his hands down to your clit. “Want your brother’s best friend to fuck you until you can’t breathe? Until you’re begging me to stop?”

“Yes,” you cry out, “please please please, Hyunjae!” He groans, loud and raspy in your ear and you can feel your abdomen starting to tighten okay. “Oh god, I’m so close baby please! So close, so close!” 

“I know baby,” he grunts, “fuck, you’re so fucking tight around me, doll.” 

His fingers are rubbing harsh circles around your sensitive clit, the callouses of his hands providing that delicious friction to drive you straight over the edge screaming his name and squeezing tightly around his cock like a vice until he can only grind his hips into you, and then he’s groaning and warm ropes of cum are filling you and spilling out around his cock. 

It takes the two of you a few minutes to recover before he’s pulling tissues and wipes out of his glove compartment and gently wiping away any traces of his release. When he gets to your face, he can only smile at the dazed look in your eyes.

“So, I take it I’m telling your brother?”

“You can bet your ass you are.” He hums and places a featherlight kiss to your lips. 

“You called me Hyunjae for the first time.” You hum.

“Don’t get used to it, Lee Jaehyun. It was heat of the moment.” He laughs, tugging his boxers and jeans back onto his body before helping you with your bra and underwear. 

“I meant it, you know.” He says when he’s got you situated in the front seat of the car. You look at him with tired eyes, enjoying the heat that comes with his car being on. Your seat is reclined so you can rest on your way home, and one of your hands is wrapped in Hyunjae’s. “When I told you that I never hated you. And if you’d let me, I want to take you out on a date after finals.” 

The thought brings a gentle smile onto your face.

“Only if Sangyeon doesn’t kill you first.”

~

It’s two days later when you force Hyunjae to tell him. The marks on your neck, and the scratches on Hyunjae’s haven’t faded in the slightest, and you know Sangyeon has been asking his best friend about them. 

You’d been sitting on your bed with your boyfriend when Sangyeon burst into the room, yelling at you about the dishes and stopping when he saw the two of you curled up on your comforter. You could see his mind trying to click everything into place, followed by your brother taking a few steps forward and Hyunjae sliding off your bed to get to your open window. 

“LEE JAEHYUN YOU’RE SO FUCKING DEAD!” Your brother screams out the open window while Hyunjae makes a run for his house, one hand thrown into the air. 

“WORTH IT!” You hear him yell, and you can’t muffle the laugh you let out before your brother turns on you with nothing but rage in those brown eyes of his. 

“Lee Y/N,” he hisses.

“In my defense, it was all him.” You back away from your brother, shuffling to the edge of your room.

“You’re dating my best friend?” 

“Maybe? Depends on how you react to either answer.”

“Oh, I’m gonna fucking kill you both.”

“Only if you can catch us!” You bolt out of your room, screaming when you hear him pounding after you. 

Maybe telling your brother wasn’t the best idea. But, then again, it was all worth it in the end. Dying young wouldn’t be so bad, at least in your eyes.

[juyeonszn]

SACRIFICE (EAT ME UP)

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 9.17k

GENRES horror ﹒ smut ﹒ angst ﹒ fluff ig?

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, mentions of murder, descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of blood, mentions of knifes, graphic description of stab wounds, mentions of potential mental illness, THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS THAT CONSTITUTE WARNINGS BUT ?!1?1 I DONT WANT TO SPOIL !1!2!2, Lots of Kissing, mutual masturbation (f! receiving fingering & m! receiving hand job), pillow talk ig, big dick hyunjae 😈, um unprotected sex lol be safe u silly geese, car sex, cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie, this entire fic is just a whole fucking roller coaster i stg it’s gonna haunt me forever

SUMMARY with a serial killer running rampant on campus, everyone around you seems to be dropping like flies. but, hey, at least you have hyunjae to protect you.

MORE omg.. my first written work for tbz 🙀 extra super fun fact; this was originally an idea i had for hyunjin from skz on my other blog that i actually started writing the week before halloween last year (the reason it’s a horror fic), but i never finished and sort of felt like there was no point in continuing it after a while— that is until i stumbled upon the draft a few weeks ago and decided to revamp, edit, and complete it 😋 i kept going back and rereading and then blanking when i wanted to add to it until last night when i said fuck it and drank two cups of coffee to power through the end 🙌 anyways.. here u all go, my baby that i never thought would see the light of day and my first time writing a genuine horror piece <3 also special shoutout to rina my soulmate @tsukidou for beta reading 🫶

PLAYLIST sacrifice (eat me up) — enhypen, awake — the boyz, roar — the boyz, fever — enhypen, fate — enhypen, taste — stray kids, wake up — ateez, white noise — pvris, heaven — pvris

“Alright, that’s all for today’s lecture. If this was your last of the day, make sure to find someone to go home with and remember the curfew rules!” Your English professor says, concluding the class.

The students around you rush to pack up their things and get off of campus as soon as possible. You don’t seem to be in a hurry, though, taking your time to put away your notebook and laptop. Your roommates were still in their music production class, so you didn’t want to go home alone, deciding to wait until they were done.

“Y/N, don’t you wanna get home?” Professor Park asks, her voice echoing in the now empty lecture hall. She throws the strap of her bag over her shoulder and pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“I do, but I have to wait for my roommates. They’re in a class right now and I’d rather not go by myself.” You let out an awkward laugh. She nods at your reasoning, giving you a small smile for comfort.

“Okay, you be careful! I’ll see you on Thursday.”

You raise your hand in a silent salutation, watching as she exits the room, leaving you completely alone. Though a public space, in a public building, the fact that there’s no one else nearby leaves you utterly unsettled. Your stomach churns with a twinge of fear and you start to feel a bit claustrophobic despite being in such a spacious area, so you choose this point to hurriedly collect your belongings and get the hell out of there.

The past couple of months have been in this weird state of limbo. You don’t recall exactly when the killings started, but once the police noticed a pattern, everyone knew sooner or later that the presence of a serial murderer would be announced on the local news. Your town enforced a citywide curfew to protect its citizens, but mostly the students at your university.

Every single one of the killer’s victims were university students. You were friends with a bunch of guys and while it was nice having big strong men surrounding you, you knew that could hardly do anything to quell the lingering anxiety you’ve felt ever since the spree began.

The police seemed to be having trouble coming up with any possible suspects, or even gaining any leads, thanks to the killer’s unusual victimology and the cool down time between murders always varying. If the people in charge of protecting you couldn’t do that, how were you supposed to feel safe?

In an attempt to get to the building where Jacob, Kevin, and Eric were as fast as you could, you speed walk out of the lecture hall, accidentally bumping into someone. You bow at a nearly ninety-degree angle and hurl out apology after apology following the collision, not trying to make any enemies in this day and time.

“Watch where you’re going, idiot.” The stranger spits, waiting for you to glance up at him to give you a nasty glare. He looks like the kind of guy who thought he was all that, despite peaking in high school. You feel your bottom lip quiver and you avoid eye contact.

“I—”

“Woah, dude, chill the fuck out. It was an accident, I’m sure she didn’t— wait, N/N, is that you? Hey it’s okay, don’t worry about it.”

There’s a familiar voice in your ears and a hand under your chin, forcing you to stand upright. Whoever you bumped into walks away with a scoff. You meet eyes with Lee Hyunjae, one of your dearest friends. He recognizes that hint of panic in your features and he frowns.

“I’m so sorry, Jae, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going—” Your breath is caught in your throat and you fumble over your words.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” he keeps a hold on your biceps. “It’s alright, I promise. He’s gone. What’s wrong?”

You shut your eyes tightly, feeling pathetic for causing such a scene for no apparent reason. Hyunjae guides you through your breathing, his focus trained on you the whole time. He always made you feel so comfortable.

“With everything that’s been going on, I’m just so paranoid and afraid of being alone. I wanted to go to the music department building and wait for the boys.” You finally explain once you’ve calmed down and the rise of your chest is even.

“How about this? I’ll take you home so you don’t have to stay on campus any longer.” He suggests, bringing up a hand to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod slowly, gathering your bearings.

Hyunjae leads you to his car that’s parked in the lot closest to the building you were just in and the two of you make your way to your apartment. You’d been friends with your roommates for years now, meeting in eighth grade. You had just moved schools and happened to be put into a class with Eric Sohn, the most rambunctious boy you’d ever met. He thought you seemed really sweet upon first impression and decided to befriend you, introducing you to all of his friends in turn.

Aside from Eric, there was Sangyeon, Jacob, Younghoon, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Kevin, Changmin, Chanhee, Haknyeon, and Sunwoo. While it was a little overwhelming, it was nice going from zero friends to eleven in the span of just a couple days. You were pretty close to all of them, but you and Hyunjae initially hit it off the best. You understood each other on a different level than everyone else and to this day, you still don't know the exact reason why.

Towards the end of high school, your friendship with Hyunjae transformed into something that wasn’t purely platonic. You weren’t entirely sure when it started to change, but your feelings for him grew exponentially. You tried to keep them to yourself, hidden from the world to preserve your fragile teenage heart. Though you’d already been friends with them a few years at that point, you still had that inkling of dread in the pit of your stomach that one day they’d choose to stop talking to you. You especially didn’t want a silly crush to be the cause of that.

After a while, however, the lines began to blur together anyway and everyone could tell you felt for him romantically. Once, Eric had made a comment about it being so painfully obvious that Hyunjae was just as into you and it nearly shook your whole world.

When college time rolled around, you all knew you’d be attending the same university, so picking roommates was a bit of a tricky situation. You chose yours solely based on the fact that you were majoring in similar things, so it’d be easy to fit schedules together. (You also couldn’t handle being roommates with Hyunjae; it’d be too much for your heart.) Hyunjae lived with Juyeon, Changmin, and Sunwoo, while Sangyeon, Younghoon, Chanhee, and Haknyeon lived together.

Hyunjae parks in a spot near the stairs that lead to your unit. The car is still running when you unbuckle your seatbelt and you stare at the steps blankly. Though the close proximity with him has your pulse racing, you want nothing more than some company until your roommates get home. You turn to him shyly, balling up a fistful of your sweater.

“Jae, do you— do you think you could stay with me for a bit before the boys come back? I don’t— I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”

The look he gives you is full of adoration, like you personally put the stars in the sky. He smiles softly and nods, reaching across the center console to place a comforting hand on top of yours. The two of you keep them intertwined as you go inside your apartment, locking all the locks carefully before sitting on your couch.

You don’t make a comment about him not letting go despite already being in the safety of your home. You don’t say anything about him pulling you into his side either, mostly because you want him to.

With all that’s been happening recently, you’ve felt so hollow. There was this indescribable emptiness expanding in you and even though you so desperately wanted to chalk it up to something else, you knew it was due to the fact that there was growing anxiety that you could be next, that any of your friends could be next. You were starting to move like you were in a simulation, doing everything in your daily routine without a single emotion. Sure, you’d laugh when Eric made a stupid joke but that’s about the most anyone could get from you aside from the occasional panic attack.

Hyunjae being here and holding you is exactly what you needed to feel some semblance of warmth again.

There’s a soft knock on your bedroom door around eight that same night, waking you from your slumber. You don’t remember falling asleep or being moved to your bed, so you’re not too sure when Hyunjae left. You rub the sleep from your eyes as you get up to open your door.

“Hey, I didn’t mean to wake you, but we got some takeout if you’re hungry.” Jacob says with an apologetic smile, leaning on the door frame.

You give him a bleary look as you nod, following him into the dining room where your other two roommates were sitting at the table. Eric greets you through a full mouth. A small laugh escapes you when you sit across from him, Kevin adjacent to your seat. The sound of the TV in the living room plays as background noise as the four of you eat.

“So when’d you get home? I thought you were gonna wait for us.” Kevin asks.

“I was, but then I ran into Hyunjae when I was on my way to your building and he offered to bring me home,” you shrug, taking some tteokbokki with your chopsticks. “It was a whole thing, please don’t ask.”

Eric hums to himself, a mischievous grin on his face as he takes a sip of his cola. “Interesting. And you say he’s not into you…”

Heat blooms over your cheeks and you accidentally drop your chopsticks on your plate, their clacking against the ceramic garnering your roommates’ attention. Eric Sohn was now number one on your hit list. Kevin elbows him in the side and tells him to be quiet, despite the tiny upwards curve of his lips.

“If he cares about you as much as he seems like he does, he wouldn’t have left you here alone after you fell asleep,” Jacob mutters, looking at you from his peripherals. “What was the point of escorting you home if—”

“Jacob shut the fuck up,” Eric suddenly blurts, the three of you stare at him as he clambers over to the living room, turning up the volume on the TV. “Look!”

You turn in your chair, your stomach churning at the news report unfolding before you.

“We’re live just outside SNU, where another victim has been found. The body hasn’t been identified yet, but from what we do know, he was a student that attended the school,” the female reporter says into the microphone she’s holding, a glazed over expression in her eyes. “Crime Scene Investigators believe he was murdered at around six this evening, and was assumed to have been making his way home from campus. Updates are expected to come later tonight once we have more information.”

You know that far away, checked out gaze she had all too well. She’s reported on the killings for a while now, no doubt numb to the way things were at this point.

Your appetite spoils immediately and you excuse yourself from the table, making your way back to your room. You sit on your bed and bring your knees to your chest, taking a deep breath in, then covering your mouth when you breathe out to muffle the sob that follows. It was becoming too overwhelming for you and there was nothing you could do about it besides sit back and watch.

It was understandable for anyone in your situation to feel hopeless, how could they not? With someone terrorizing the city in an unpredictable manner, there was no sense of normalcy in anyone’s life. You shudder when you finally bring yourself to stop crying, digging your nails into the fat of your calves.

Through the walls, you can hear the boys talking, voices solemn.

“Why’d you have to put the TV louder, dumbass?”

“Sorry, I just like being up to date on the case, you know? I want to be prepared. What if I need to learn clone jutsu to take out the guy?”

“Eric, you’re such a clown, oh my god.”

“I get that you’re interested and all, but you have to be mindful of Y/N. You know how much this has affected her both emotionally and physically, she doesn’t need the constant reminder that it’s happening. And I’d appreciate if you apologized for telling me to ‘shut the fuck up’.”

There’s a snort in between.

“My bad, I didn’t mean to be rude about it. But while we’re on the topic, I think we both need to admit our mistakes. What you said about Hyunjae to her wasn’t cool either. I know we’re all friends, but it just came across too—”

“It was really snappy, Jacob. And a bit petty.”

“Yeah! What Kevin said.”

“I— you’re right. I just don’t want her getting hurt, in more ways than one.”

You don’t hear much else from the trio and sigh heavily, dragging your hands down your face and wiping your eyes with the heels of your palms. You grab your phone from your nightstand and hesitantly search for Hyunjae’s contact, the line ringing a couple times before he answers.

“Y/N? Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“N-no, I’m fine. I was just— I wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay,” you mess with your bottom lip. “I heard there was another victim and I didn’t know when you left the apartment, so I just— uh— I just needed to know that you were safe. I called to see if you’d answer.”

You squeeze your eyes shut out of embarrassment, even if he can’t exactly see you. The stuttering was enough to make you go into hiding for the rest of your life if this serial killer didn’t.

“Oh,” you can hear the slight chuckle in his response from the way his breath hits the speaker. “It means a lot that you’d do that, N/N. Really, I appreciate you so much.”

Your lip finds itself between your teeth and your heart is pounding unbearably fast, you think you might be having a heart attack. You bring a hand up to clutch at your chest as a fuzzy feeling courses through your whole being.

Now you were scared for an entirely different reason.

(The main one occupies your mind again later that night when you scroll through your Twitter feed, only to find out the most recent victim was the guy you accidentally bumped into. You feel like some sick version of a guardian angel was looking after you. It makes it hard to fall asleep after that.)

A couple days passed and you found yourself thinking about Lee Hyunjae more than usual.

Not to say that you didn’t already think about him at least once a day, but now it was worse. When you woke up, you wondered if he was still asleep. While you drank your morning coffee, you wondered if it’d taste sweeter had he made it for you. When you had lunch, you wondered if he’d like the spam musubi you made yourself. When you attended your other classes, you wondered which courses he was struggling with this semester.

As you were walking out of your English class, you recalled running into him. Had he not been there, you might’ve driven yourself insane trying to rush over to the music building while diffusing the issue with that stranger.

When you first began to harbor feelings for him, you assumed it would become nothing more than a silly schoolgirl crush. He was attractive and kind to you, but that was just the bare minimum— you thought you’d grow out of it. However, as time went on, what you thought was just puppy love had blossomed into something stronger. It was a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, all of that had been tossed on the back burner with everything that’s going on. Recently you’ve been too afraid for your own safety and well-being to over analyze your interactions with Hyunjae, but now you’re back to square one.

All because he’d done something nice for you.

God, the bar was so low. Was it really too much to ask for someone who was decent? Someone who wasn’t a serial killer?

You were on your way to the music building to wait for Jacob, Kevin, and Eric once again, when you see Hyunjae coming down the hall. He’s on his phone, not paying any mind to his surroundings. You’re about to call out to him when someone stops you, tugging on the sleeve of your sweater gently.

“Hey, Y/N right?” The tall boy asks, a charming smile on his face.

“Uh— yeah,” you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Y-you are?”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I must seem like a total weirdo,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m Mingyu! We have English together.”

“Oh, you’re Mingyu? Professor Park told me about you before class today,” you give him a small comforting smile. “I don’t mind helping you!”

“Ah, that’s great to hear. I was a bit worried you’d be more annoyed about having to tutor someone so late in the semester.” Though he’s much taller than you and approached you first, Mingyu comes across as a little shy in nature. It puts you at ease in a way.

“No, not at all! English isn’t always the easiest, I get that. I wanna help as much as I can before finals. Look,” you pause, pulling your backpack off one shoulder to rip out a sheet of paper. “I’ll give you my number so we can arrange meet up dates! I’d prefer if we met at the library if that’s okay with you?”

Mingyu grins and sports a thumbs up in agreement. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much, Y/N!”

You scribble your phone number onto the paper and hand it to him before parting ways. With the off guard conversation, you nearly forgot about Hyunjae, who was nowhere to be seen now. You feel your lips droop into a frown, since you were hoping you could talk with him for a second.

As you’re walking across the quad to the music building, a wind chill blows past you, making you wrap your arms around yourself. It was mid November and for some stupid reason, you were only wearing a small cardigan.

When you squint up at the sky, you also realize it’s more overcast than anything. There’s an angry grey cloud right above you and you curse yourself for not having an umbrella or a raincoat. You should've been more prepared, especially because of the inconsistent weather this time of year.

Suddenly, the sky is blocked from your view and you furrow your brows, spinning around. Hyunjae stares back at you with a smile ten times warmer than the frigid air surrounding you and a thicker jacket in one hand. The other holds up an umbrella just as tiny droplets begin to fall from above.

His timing couldn’t have been better.

“Heading to the music building?” He asks, skillfully placing the coat on your shoulders.

“Mhm… was gonna wait for the boys.” You respond, a little awestruck by how gorgeous he was. Especially up close. Your eyes fixate on the freckle on his nose rather than his own. He hums, keeping an arm around your shoulders as he leads you in a different direction.

“I can take you home again,” he glances down at you. “I don’t mind one bit.”

“O-okay!”

During the car ride to your apartment, you send a quick text to your roommates about not waiting up. You were happy that your relationship with Hyunjae was evolving. The past couple semesters had been rough, and you hadn’t seen him or any of the other guys nearly as much as Jacob, Kevin, and Eric. (And that was only because you lived with them.)

You toss your keys on to the mini table beside the front door, taking off your shoes with a small groan. The boots were cute, but not very comfortable. Hyunjae follows suit, his sock clad feet shuffling against the floor to sit on the couch.

After switching on the TV, you find a random Hallmark Christmas movie to play in the background, knowing full well that his presence beside you was too distracting. The brunette turns to face you, placing a hand on your thigh gently to get your attention.

“So, who was the dude you were talking to earlier?”

You blink at his question. So he saw you after all. Was he perhaps jealous? The idea shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does. “My professor asked me to tutor him ‘cause he’s struggling with English. Why?”

“Just curious. He seemed a little touchy.” Hyunjae plays with the hem of your sweater.

“O-oh. It’s fine, he wasn’t a random perv, if that’s what you were wondering.”

He scoots a little closer to you, tucking some hair behind your ear. You feel your face flush impossibly hotter. Your heart is racing and your breath is caught in your throat. His body heat radiates off of him with the new proximity.

“Good. It drives me crazy seeing other guys put their hands on you.” He admits bluntly, his hand resting at the junction where your neck meets your shoulder.

You know you look insane, your chest heaving up and down and your eyes widened a little. Like a baby deer caught by a predator. Who knew sweet sweet Hyunjae had a rather risqué side to him? You swallow thickly, not daring to move an inch. His thumb caresses your skin gently, goosebumps littering in its wake.

“Hyunjae…” You breathe, lips parting as you finally make eye contact with him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.”

You want to scream into the cushion behind you, your hands clamming up. Hyunjae looks like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to, his bottom lip between his teeth as he leans in a bit more. This moment was something straight out of one of your darkest fantasies. You never thought this would ever happen, that either of you would ever actually make a move on the other.

The sound of the front door unlocking catches both of your attention. Hyunjae pulls away from you faster than your brain can comprehend what exactly just occurred. Jacob is the first to walk in, laughing at something Eric said. The three males pause when they see you’re not alone.

The greetings are quick, Hyunjae dapping up the boys as if nothing. He’s also quick to say goodbye, ensuring them that he’ll make sure you’re safe when they’re not around. He gives you that smile of his, the one where his eyes form crescents, and then he’s gone.

You don’t know how much more of this you could take.

“So, Y/N…” Eric starts in the middle of dinner, side eyeing you as he shovels rice into his mouth. “You and Hyunjae have been together an awful lot lately.”

Kevin snorts, kicking the blonde under the table. You suppose it was going to come up eventually. This ‘Will They, Won’t They’ back and forth shit was starting to tire you out. You weren’t getting any younger. Time was passing you up the longer you waited to just say something. And with all that’s been going on, it was silly to be afraid of admitting your feelings.

“He’s being a good friend, Eric,” Jacob sighs, reaching across to flick him on the forehead. “It’s actually really nice that he watches over Y/N when we’re gone.”

Eric grimaces, rubbing the spot that Jacob assaulted. You frown a bit when you realize that he had a point. Hyunjae was treating you like a child that had to be tended to, babysitting you like you weren’t capable of holding your own. Granted, both times he’s come over, you asked him to. So you couldn’t really blame him for assuming you wanted him around to protect you.

“Do y’all think Hyunjae actually likes me? In a non-platonic way?”

Kevin’s spoon clatters onto the floor and they all pause their banter to look at you. Every time your feelings for Hyunjae were brought up, you chose to ignore them and switch the subject. You can’t keep running away.

“Uh— yeah. Duh. Of course he does. I don’t know anyone else who would go out of their way to stay with someone they saw as just a friend multiple times a week so she felt safe.” Kevin finally answers after a moment.

“Okay.” You settle on, taking a sip of your water.

“What do you mean ‘okay’?” He raises an eyebrow at you, but you just shrug.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

As you’re washing the dishes after dinner, you hear the news broadcast over the faucet. Another victim had just been found behind the campus library. The camera shows the scene behind the reporter, something that would’ve made you queasy a couple days ago, but now you feel nothing— just a dull ache in your chest. It’s messy, almost like the killer was in a hurry to get it over with.

The body is covered with a black tarp, paramedics wheeling it away in the corner of the screen. The reporter still wears that dissociated expression on her face as she goes over the details of this victim. She explains that because the murder was done so haphazardly, they were able to identify the body easily.

Twenty three year old Kim Mingyu, Sports Med Major.

The rest of the news report sounds like static in your ears as you scrub away at the dishes mindlessly. Your fingers have pruned and the water was burning the backs of your hands, but you don’t feel it, too checked out to care. It seemed like the killings were getting closer and closer to you. Part of you thought you’d be next every single time.

You had to tell Hyunjae how you felt. It was now or never.

Fifteen minutes later, he’s waiting outside of your apartment complex, leaning against his car. You take careful steps down the stairs, nearly fainting at the sight of him in a hoodie and grey sweatpants. He runs around the car to open the passenger door for you, only shutting it when you’re all buckled up. It’s not long after that he revs the engine and drives off to nowhere in particular, just like you requested. (Curfew ignored.)

It’s silent at first, save for the low hum of his music, R&B that resonates somewhere within your soul. You can’t help but steal a glance from your peripheral, fisting your sweatshirt when you see how concentrated he looks while driving. He has his right hand resting on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. You could’ve had this view all to yourself so long ago had you just spoken up.

“Hyunjae,” your voice is wobbly, but you steel yourself to continue. “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you think— uh— do you think you could pull over?” If you were going to confess, you wanted him to look at you. Besides, the drive was starting to make you jittery.

He nods and goes a bit further, before pulling into an empty lot. He shifts into park, unbuckling his seatbelt so he could turn his body towards you, giving you his undivided attention. You mirror him, tightening your hold on your sweater when he wets his lips, smiling at you. “Is this what you called me for?”

“Yeah, actually,” you force yourself to keep eye contact, pushing the lump back down your throat. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for years now, if I’m being honest with both of us.”

He chuckles, much like he did the other night over the phone. It drives you just a little crazy. “I’m listening.”

“I— I don’t know how to word this properly…” You wipe your palms on your legs. Come on, Y/N, spit it out already. “Fuck, okay, I like you Hyunjae. Like, really like you. In the way that I sometimes wish you would kiss me until I can’t breathe. I’ve been so afraid of admitting that to myself, but I’ve realized that life is way too short to dwell over the fear of rejection. But please, tell me you feel the same.”

He stares at you with an indecipherable look in his eyes. You feel like throwing up now, you stomach twisting and churning at the thought that you just ruined everything between you. There was no going back after this. He knew.

It’s as if months have passed by in utter silence with Hyunjae just sitting there, no words coming out of his mouth, until finally, he just leans across the center console, cupping your cheek with one of his hands. His vision is trained on your lips, his face close enough that his lashes flutter against your skin. God, he was even more gorgeous from this distance.

Instead of saying anything, he presses his lips to yours, a sweet but desperate kiss that melts away all the worries tucked into your head. They feel so soft on your own, molding together in near perfect timing. It’s like you’d been living for a year without rain and this kiss was the shower that saved you from a drought. It’s all you’ve ever wanted and needed and more.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he breathes when he pulls away slightly. “The real thing is so much better than I imagined it would be.”

For once, time slows down in this moment, almost like the world stopped spinning on its axis. Everything slips from your mind and it’s just you and Hyunjae, here in his car in the middle of an empty parking lot. Nothing else matters. You smile at his confession, a genuine smile that was spurred on by contentment rather than force. You felt light and airy, no longer weighed down by such a trivial problem.

“I think I have an idea,” you giggle, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his face. “I’m not too sure, though, I could be wrong. Could you do that again to help jog my memory?”

Hyunjae laughs, (it’s the most melodic sound you’ve ever heard) but doesn’t hesitate to kiss you. You reciprocate his passion, tangling your fingers in his dark hair. He sighs into the kiss, pulling you on top of him. Your legs straddle his lap as best as they can and he reaches down to recline his seat, scooting it as far as it can go from the wheel. The thin material of your fleece shorts hardly hide the feeling of him under you, a low moan pushing into his mouth.

He nips at your bottom lip, tugging at it with his teeth gently before peppering kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking along the exposed skin from your sweatshirt. You whine, throwing your head back as his tongue soothes over the bruising area. His hands slide under your top, rubbing up and down your sides before moving them down to your thighs, repeating the action.

“You’re so gorgeous on top of me like this, Y/N.” Hyunjae says, just above a whisper like someone else might hear this intimate conversation. He grips your hips and bucks upwards to grind into your clothed core. Your eyes widen and you involuntarily moan at the sensation. This wasn’t what you were expecting when you planned to confess, but you didn’t hate the outcome. He grins at your response, reconnecting your mouths sloppily.

If you were given the choice, you were wholeheartedly satisfied with just this. You would’ve been plenty okay with just making out. Had you been asked years ago that you’d even get this far, you would’ve snorted in your own face, so why should you be greedy and want more than what you had? (That’s not to say that you didn’t.)

“H-Hyunjae,” you stutter, your brain foggy from all of the kissing you just did. “Do you…?”

You trail off, not sure how to word your question. You didn’t want to come off like a sex crazed maniac, but you didn’t want to come off like an amateur virgin either. Truth of the matter is, you were neither, but it had been a while since you indulged yourself in something of this sort. And this time it would be with Hyunjae, the one person you never thought you’d do this with. You were nervous.

All you wanted was to be entwined with him in more ways than one. You wanted all of him— the good, the bad, the ugly, the beautiful, the sick, the healthy. He could do no wrong on your eyes and you wanted to show him that.

“Do I…?” Hyunjae trails off, waiting for you to continue.

“Do you want to make love… with me?” This had to be the single most mortifying moment of your life. You cover your face in humiliation, shying away from him when he sits up on his elbows.

“What kind of question is that?” He asks with a chuckle, prying your hands from your face so he could look you in the eyes. “If I could make love to you every hour of the day, for seven days a week, I would. I want you all the time, Y/N. Earlier today, before we got interrupted, I wanted to do unimaginable things to you.”

You hide yourself in the crook of his neck, your skin flushing hotter. Weren't you wearing too many layers? The car was starting to feel stuffy. Hyunjae’s chest rumbles with laughter beneath you, pressing his lips to the shell of your ear. This is probably the gentlest he’d be with you all night, because from what you could infer, he was a manhandler.

“Take care of me,” you breathe, mouth brushing against his pulse point. “Please.”

Hyunjae stops holding himself back. He’d do whatever you asked of him, only hoping you’d be tied to him in every lifetime, just like this one. He kisses you again with an unrivaled fervor, slipping his hands inside your sweatshirt and touching you everywhere physically possible. They’re warm on your skin, palming your breasts over the flimsy fabric of your bralette.

He helps you get rid of your top and shorts, leaving you in just undergarments. The sight of you barely clothed sends him into a frenzy, especially knowing it’s for his eyes only. You aid Hyunjae in pulling off his hoodie and yanking his sweatpants down his long legs. The minute most of your restrictions are gone, Hyunjae brings you closer to him. He hisses at the contact, the warmth of your cunt through your panties putting him under a spell.

You whimper when his touch travels down your front, sneaking into the waistband of your underwear. The pads of his middle and ring fingers apply the lightest amount of pressure onto your clit the second he finds it, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your nails on one hand dig into his shoulder while the other trails down his abdomen, rubbing up and down his length through his boxer briefs.

Hyunjae groans into your kiss and you gasp for air as you tear from him, resting your forehead on his to watch as you get each other off through your clothes. If earlier was something taken from one of your wet dreams, what did this constitute as? You clench around nothing when he pushes up into you, your wrists clashing. Knowing he was just as down bad for you as you were for him just made this all that much more real.

“I need to feel you around me,” he mumbles in your ear, dipping his fingers in and out of you languidly as if to explain what he meant. “Let me stretch you out.”

You nod in response, fumbling with his briefs. Hyunjae lifts his hips enough for you to help him out of them. You groan when he reveals his impressive size, wondering how exactly he expected you to take him. He pushes your panties to the side, mimicking the sound you just made when he sees your bare pussy drooling for him. You eventually get frustrated and line him up with your hole, sinking down in one fluid motion. A voluminous moan escapes from the back of your throat, his dick throbbing achingly inside of you. At first you stay still like that, your pelvises touching as you adjust to his length and girth.

“H-holy shit— you’re s-so deep, Jae,” you cry, resting your forehead against his yet again. He pecks your lips, holding onto your hips to help you bounce on his cock, practically impaling you every single time.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well. Such a good fucking girl,” Hyunjae grunts, the warmth of your walls drawing him in even further. “So tight, too.”

Your thighs begin to burn and your movements become slower, which he takes note of instantaneously. He bends his knees and forces your upper half impossibly closer to him, thrusting up into you. This new angle allows him to find that one spongy spot that has you seeing stars, fogging up your brain and even your vision.

You cast a downward glance at the minimal space between where the two of you are connected. Your moans and whines grow louder with the view of every thrust of his hips into yours. Hyunjae sneaks his hand in the middle of you, his fingers expertly toying with your clit. Any more stimulation and the band in your stomach is snapping.

You’ve had sex before. You’ve slept with a handful of other guys in the past, but nothing could ever compare to this moment. Your cunt had already memorized his size and every vein, effectively ruining the chances of any other man doing this with you. Lee Hyunjae had you in a chokehold whether he realized it or not. He had you wrapped around his finger without really trying, but you could never complain.

Your walls squeeze his cock and he knows he won’t last much longer, shutting his eyes tightly. “C’mon baby, you gonna cum for me?”

“Mhm,” you whimper, your skin flush on his own. “Wanna cum so bad for you, Hyunjae.”

“Yeah? Me too, sweetheart,” he pants, the thumb on your hip pressing against the bone. “Where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you babble. “Please, please. I want you to cum inside me, Hyunjae.”

He kisses you softly just then, swallowing your pretty moans with something completely opposite of what he’s already given you, and that’s what sends you spiraling, fluttering around him. He groans, spilling into you and letting you milk him dry of everything he has to offer, painting your insides just like you asked him to.

You lay like that for a while, Hyunjae’s dick still buried in you to the hilt. Both of you attempt to catch your breaths and bring yourselves down from the well-anticipated euphoric state you just visited. You giggle at the condensation coating the windows of his car, extending your arm to draw a heart and a smiley face with your finger. He slowly pulls himself out, hissing at the sensitivity, but doesn’t make a move to get you off of his chest.

Where do you go from here? A line had just been crossed and you weren’t entirely sure you knew what he wanted from you. It’s one thing to imagine kissing and fucking someone extensively. But it was another to actually want a tangible, romantic relationship from them, to actually capacitate feelings for them.

“I love you,”

You jolt up and stare at him with widened eyes. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? As if he can read your mind, he nods. There’s a dragged out sigh, followed by him sitting up slightly with you perched on his lap.

“I really do, Y/N. I’ve felt this way for years and I’m willing to do anything for you.” He admits, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. You kiss him gently, the pad of your thumb swiping across his cheekbone.

“I love you, too.”

The Saturday after your night in Hyunjae’s car brought everything into perspective for you.

You hadn’t spoken to him since he dropped you off at your apartment and it was beginning to worry you. Even though you made sure he reciprocated your emotions, there still could’ve been a misunderstanding. Had you been too forward? Did you scare him away? Did something happen to him? Whatever the explanation was, you didn’t like the eerie feeling it started brewing in your stomach— it was foreboding.

In spite of not talking to them at all in what seemed to be a month or so, you tried calling each of your mutual friends to see if you could get some answers. Not even his roommates picked up their phones and this made you much more uneasy. You pace back and forth in your living room, nicking at your bottom lip with your nails. Why did he choose now of all times to ghost you? What went wrong?

Kevin comes out of his bedroom a couple minutes later, expecting to grab his morning coffee as usual. When he finds you nearly on the brink of insanity instead, he decides to intervene. He supposed his caffeine could wait until his best friend was calmed down. You jump in surprise, holding a fist to your chest. He raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, my bad. What’s up? Why do you look like you’re going through a quarter life crisis?” Kevin asks you, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Is everything okay?”

“I—“ you pause and take a deep breath. “I don’t know…”

His eyebrows furrow and he guides you to the sofa so you could sit down. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know’?”

“Hyunjae hasn’t talked to me since Thursday night, after he brought me back here,” your voice is hoarser than you’d like it to be. “I-I texted and called him a bunch but he hasn’t replied. I even— I even tried Juyo, Sunwoo, and Changmin. No luck with them either. I’m concerned, Kev.”

Kevin combs through his hair, pursing his lips in thought. “Yeah, okay, I would be too. It's a little weird that none of them are responding. Have you thought of just showing up at his place to check in on him?”

You shake your head. “No, I didn’t want him to think I’m clingy and annoying in case he was there. What if he just wants to get me off of his back and he’s telling them to ignore me?”

“I don’t think that’s the case at all, Y/N,” your friend sighs, putting his glasses on top of his head and running a hand down his face. “Hyunjae has never been that kind of person in all the years we’ve known him. I highly doubt he’d switch up now. Plus, he’s literally crazy about you. I’m pretty sure the guy would move heaven and earth for you if he could. I think there’s a very real and genuine possibility that something is seriously wrong. It’s like— it’s just a gut feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” If Kevin felt this way, too, that would only mean one thing, right? You had to get to the bottom of this. There was a chance that lives depended on it. A quick roll of your neck and you’re standing. “I’m gonna go over there. I can’t leave things unanswered. I can’t wait for a fucking news report.”

The ravenette pats the top of your head. “Be careful, N/N. Please.”

You give him a nod before you’re slipping into your shoes and grabbing his car keys. You’re not exactly dressed for a confrontation if there is one— clad in a pair of sweatpants, an oversized sweatshirt with your university’s crest on it, and socks with sandals— but you were too preoccupied to care.

The drive itself was mentally taxing, your brain dissociating most of the ride. You’re not sure how many of the lights you passed were actually green. The closer you got to Hyunjae’s apartment, the more that trepidation settling in your lower abdomen grew. Throughout your life, you’d never been the type of person who acted on instinct or had a nagging voice in the rear of your head warning you about situations you got into. You usually went with the flow and if you made a mistake, you allowed yourself to learn from it.

However, that was prior to being thrown into a period of uncertainty like this one. Now, all you could do was act on instinct. All you could do was listen to the stupid nagging voice in the rear of your head yelling at you. All you could do was follow the blaring alarms and caution signs in your field of vision. And this time they were almost deafening.

Kevin’s car rolls to a stop outside of Hyunjae’s building, occupying an empty spot three away from the front of the stairs. Your pulse races when you step out of the vehicle and immediately recognize the cars in the spaces beside yours. Hyunjae’s, Juyeon’s, and Changmin’s. You notice a thin layer of dirt caking Juyeon and Changmin’s, as if they’d remained unmoved for a long time. Perturbed wasn’t a big enough word to describe what was going through your mind.

Half of you was terrified to take a step towards the stairs, let alone ascend them to Hyunjae’s floor. What would go down when you reached his apartment? What would happen the moment that door opened?

You ball your hands into fists, the edges of your nails jabbing the skin of your palms. The pain steels you enough to move forward, walking up the stairs slowly. There’s a chill tiptoeing along your spine the whole trip up, like your body knew what you were getting yourself into before you did. Maybe you were stupid. Only an idiot would lead themselves blindly into a scenario without knowing the outcome.

It’s been minutes of you staring at the slightly rusted numbers on Hyunjae’s door before you register that you’re standing in front of it. If you're being honest, you have no idea what you’re doing. You were acting on autopilot— progressing without a thought of what’s coming next. A shuddered breath leaves your lips and you raise your knuckles to the door.

The first knock is too soft to hear if the inhabitants were in their bedrooms, so you apply more force the second time. The sound reverberates through the hall, a wince appearing on your features. If someone was inside, surely they had to have heard that one. You wait a little longer for the door to swing open and reveal one of your friends looking perfectly fine. For Juyeon to showcase that grin of his that reaches his eyes and ask what you were doing here. For Changmin to give you that sweet smile that puffed up his cheeks and ask what you needed. For Sunwoo to blow a raspberry before he laughed at how silly you were for stressing over them. For Hyunjae to reassure you that it was all going to be okay, that he loved you. You were praying for that.

But no one showed up on the other end of that doorway and you were stuck glaring at that same painted board of wood.

That’s what sends your instincts into overdrive. Your hand grabs the knob, twisting it just in case. It makes a full rotation, pushing open the door the tiniest bit. You peek inside carefully and find all the lights in the living room and kitchen off. Your teeth bite down on your lip as you enter the apartment. One of the things you hated about it, was the annoying buzz of the fluorescent lights in their bathroom. And for some reason, that was all that infiltrated your ears.

The door for said bathroom was cracked just a tad at the end of the hallway, but what caught your attention was the room closest to you— also cracked the most miniscule amount. You see light filtering through, an almost orange glow like that of a desk lamp. Your stupidity would be your downfall, you conclude, your feet gravitating to the room. It’s Hyunjae’s you recall when you’re outside of it. They always say curiosity killed the cat, and you couldn’t help but revert to a feline and nudge it open with your foot.

You really wished that saying was just that— a saying.

Eric sits ahead of you, tied to a chair in the middle of the room. There’s a piece of fabric gagging his mouth and his clothes are tattered, blood staining nearly every inch. A long gash runs along his left bicep and a myriad of smaller cuts litter his face and arms. What your focus lands on first are the several deep stab wounds on his thighs.

A hand comes up to cup your mouth to keep yourself from screaming at the sight of your best friend in this position. He struggles against his restraints, muffled cries for your assistance shattering your heart into a thousand pieces like broken shards of glass. Tear streaks mixed with dried blood cover the apples of his cheeks.

“Oh my god, Eric,” your voice wobbles as you scramble to free him. “Oh my god…”

You pull down the fabric in his mouth first and he gasps for air. His eyes widen at something behind you and he warns, “Y/N—!” before he’s interrupted by your yelp. The person pressed into your back has their arm around your neck with a hold tight enough that you can’t escape, but loose enough that you can breathe, the blunt edge of a knife grazing the column of your throat.

“Tsk tsk, Youngjae. You should know that making so much noise when your killer’s not in the room just alerts them of suspicious activity. That’s survival 101, my friend. Isn’t that right, sweet sweet Y/N?”

No.

No. No. No. No. No.

This wasn’t happening.

This couldn’t be happening.

“Please, let her go, Hyunjae.” Eric begs. Hyunjae hums, nuzzling his nose in your hair. He rolls his eyes and scoffs after inhaling your scent, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“God, you’re a mouthy one. Not even Juyeon and Sunwoo were this chatty when I slit their throats— then again, it's not like they could talk much anyway.” He snorts.

You felt sick. You were lightheaded now, just at the thought of your friends gone. “W-why are you doing this?”

Hyunjae grumbles, pouting his lips. “Time for me to unravel my evil villain monologue, huh?” He slips a hand under your sweatshirt and pinches the side of your waist. “Well here it is; what you’re dying to know. The first incident was by complete accident, we were simply having a discussion about why he shouldn’t have been staring at your ass while his girlfriend was next to him at Jeong Jaehyun’s end of summer bonfire. The dude got pissed off that I called him out and tried to start a fight, but I shoved him so hard, he fell and hit his head on a rock. I just couldn’t find it in myself to feel bad about it so I left him there like nothing. From then on, anyone who came between us or remotely hurt you in any way wound up on the receiving end of this knife. Funny isn’t it? How you’re the one beneath it this time?”

It all began to fall into place once he laid the cards out on the table for you to read. The guy you ran into Tuesday after class. Poor Kim Mingyu, who just wanted to pass his English final. Your friends not picking up their phones. And supposedly it was all in the name of love.

“Y-you did that for me?”

“Of course, baby,” Hyunjae mutters into the shell of your ear. “I said I’d protect you didn’t I? I just want you all to myself.”

“What the fuck does that possessive bullshit have to do with me? What did it have to do with Juyo or Changmin or Sunwoo?” Eric cries. “Oh god, what about—?”

“Sangyeon, Hoon, Chanhee, Hak? Yeah, those four were taken care of way before my own roommates. You, obviously, were the chosen one this go around. Then it would be Kevin and lastly, Jacob. I planned on stopping after you three unless absolutely necessary.”

“How is any of this fucking necessary? You’re psychotic,” the blonde exclaims, still wriggling in his restraints. “Why would Y/N want you after all of this? Did you really believe she’d never find out about what you’ve done?”

Hyunjae glides the smooth edge of the blade against your skin and releases you from his grip, but takes a hold of your wrist, placing the handle in your grasp. He urges you forward, closer to Eric. “If she was scared of me, don’t you think she would’ve tried harder to escape me? Didn’t even blink when I held the knife to her neck.”

The brunette kisses your temple and you watch the fear in Eric’s eyes morph into defeat. “After everything we’ve been through? I’ve known you since eighth grade, Y/N. Eighth fucking grade. And this is how it ends?”

“H-he loves me,” you stutter, glancing at Hyunjae. “Don’t you?”

“You don’t kill your best friends out of love, Y/N! He’s insane! Please, don’t let him get into your head. You’re not that kind of person.” Eric attempts to reason.

Maybe you weren’t. Maybe you were. Who knows? That didn’t matter. What mattered was the fact that Hyunjae loved you. He loved you so much that he’d kill for you. Over and over and over again.

It was kind of comical that you loved him all the same. You, too, would kill for him. Over and over and over again.

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[gluion]

here’s much to do with hate, but more with love ➵ lee sangyeon & lee hyunjae

non-idol!lee sangyeon x reader, non-idol!lee hyunjae x reader

when you land the lead role for your university's upcoming play, you expect your scene partner to be your best friend, lee hyunjae. but when your eyes discover a different lee beside romeo montague's, you're certain that the universe is not on your side.

genre/warnings ➵ enemies to lovers, slight friends to lovers (kind of), afab reader (they/them pronouns), university au, theater au (?), suggestive themes, drinking, pet names (sweetheart), huh yunjin is your bestfriend, i don't remember much from physics so my bad if angular momentum is not taught in college (or probably a basic lesson), kevin moon is the director and kibum from shinee is the teacher advisor, three different scenes and one flashback, p1harmony cravity twice and ive cameo too, theater kids do know how to have fun!, sangyeon macbeth burn, the scottish play is macbeth btw, theater superstitions mentioned!!

word count ➵ 6.1k words

taglist ➵ @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @vernyangel @mosviqu

a/n ➵ here's my submission for the secret santa fic exchange of the deoboyznet! i got daisy @daisyvisions <3 i hope you enjoy this, and i hope i got to fulfill your request (and did justice to sangmil) <3 thank you to @vernyangel and @winterchimez for betareading this <3 also thank you to @shegotthewoobies and @sizzlingdino for sharing your theater knowledge <3 much love <3 i'll definitely consider writing a part 2 for this fic if anyone wants it :') for everyone, please don't forget to reblog (even if it's in your tbr) and leave feedback <3

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

To exist is to perform. At every waking moment—every second, every location, every play—is an audience ready to witness an act, regardless of whether they attended the first act or came in the middle of the third. To exist is to perform. No matter what role you signed up for, you’re left to act as your own backstage crew, cast, and director. To exist is to perform. There’s no such thing as intermission for the crowd remains rooted in their seats. To exist is to perform. You’re born an actor; nothing can change that.

There’s an unwritten contract that comes with being an actor; it is to understand your role and scene, and then immerse in what your character is undergoing. Let the curtains draw back and feel. And most of all, never allow the audience or your castmate to disrupt the show.

(It didn’t matter if you were performing for someone or no one. The roles you undertake are made for you, after all; it’s only right to perform, perform, perform.)

(And regardless of the nature of the role—ensemble or lead, it didn’t matter because they held their own value—you knew to perform it as if it were your last show. But you’ll never allow yourself to be a ham; you would rather have someone exclaim the official name of “The Scottish Play” in the theater—scratch that, you would rather hear “good luck” at every opening night.)

For today’s play, you’re left with a monotonous role—a university student forced to listen to the blabbering of a lecturer as they teeter on a tightrope. At any second, you swear you could almost slip and fall into slumber, but the sound of your professor clearing his throat is what has you scrambling back into focus. 

“So, angular momentum.” God, you need to get out of here.

Before you can find yourself falling back into your thoughts, the table vibrates. You look down at your phone to see a text from your best friend.

jennikirin: GIRRRLLL… jennikirin: i just heard that sir key posted the casting list

Your eyebrows shoot up. With hands quick to grab your phone and type out a reply, the voice of your professor turns into elevator music.

y/n: HUHHH isn’t that supposed to be coming out next week??? jennikirin: YEAA but zuha told me that sir key and kevin wanted it up early just so they could start preparing for the production jennikirin: jichang told her btw HUEYIQEYE y/n: IMCRYAINDG!?!@?@ y/n: fuck ME now i have to sit through the rest of this class knowing that the list is out already??? jennikirin: DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED i’m stuck with sir son in stupid econ…  jennikirin: like I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU GREGORY MANKIW!!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! y/n: i’m learning about stupid angular momentum under sir won… y/n: like i’m only here because ITS A GENERAL SUBJECT!!! I’M AN ADVERTISING MAJOR?? jennikirin: nvm sir son is dismissing us early 💗 i’m bolting to that corkboard see ya y/n: FAWK YEWWWW

All you have to do is follow through with your role until the curtains draw close—a simple task that seems impossible to complete. If your knees were to hit the ground and your hands would come together in a prayer position, would the performance be life-changing that the show is cut short? Could you be free from your duty as an actor playing a student?

(And it’s funny because you spent countless hours studying and praying to get into this university; you were in no position to complain.)

“That’s it for today’s class! Please make sure to read up on—”

You were out of the classroom before you could hear your professor’s full announcement. The details of your next assignment don’t matter when your fate is stored in a paper posted on a corkboard.

(Though, you know it is a lie. You did need to pass Mr. Won’s class to get your degree, and you didn’t want to go through Physics a second time.)

The hallway is filled with rumbling students, off to go to their next class or itching to get some food during their break in between. As you made your way through, you could only spit out half-hearted excuses—Sorry! Just passing!—as you bumped shoulders with strangers. Different looks were thrown your way, apologetic and scornful ones to name a few.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you look down to see a text message from Yunjin. A sigh leaves you as you type out a reply while walking.

jennikirin: I JUST GOT HERE jennikirin: WRU y/n: OTW WAIR FIR ME jennikirin: BITCHHHH OKAY

Once you’ve made it out of the sea of extras, you can spot the brown corkboard surrounded by a crowd of students, and you can see your ginger-haired friend looking down at her phone. She’s pacing around, struggling to not look at the cast list.

“Huh Yunjin!” Her eyes land on you as you call out her name. You scurry your way to her. “Sorry! The hallways were packed.”

“It’s fine! Now, we need to check the casting list. I was practically dying not looking at it.” She tugs on your arm, maneuvering you both closer to the paper plastered on the corkboard. As she says excuses, you spot familiar faces leaving with different expressions—joy and disappointment to name a few.

You can spot Yoon Keeho and Hwang Intak walking away, sighs of relief leaving them. Shoulders down are what Kang Minhee and Ham Wonjin sported, a teary-eyed Song Hyeongjun trailing behind the two. Faces of those you knew during your time in countless productions, and others you’ve only met during auditions; they’ve read the paper that had their fates.

Every step is a dreadful one as you trudge your way through the crowd. (Or you could say being dragged by your best friend.) But before you can attest, you find yourself facing Yunjin, both of you only one look away from finding out your fates.

“Okay, are we ready?” Be still, your heart.

With one nod, you both look at the piece of paper that holds the names of those participating in the Romeo and Juliet production. As you spot Yunjin’s name beside Rosaline Capulet, your heart leaps at the sight.

“Oh my god, Yunjin, you GOT IT!”

“Y/N, YOU’RE JULIET!” You lock eyes with your best friend, eyebrows raised in confusion at her words. “Girl, look!” She moves your face with one hand and has the other pointing right where your name lands—Y/N as Juliet Capulet. Your hand reaches to your face, palm covering your mouth as you hold back a gasp. Mind jumbled, you didn’t know what to say.

Yunjin pulls you into an embrace, jumping in her place. “WE GOT IN!” Her cheer sounds throughout the hallway, earning stares from those surrounding you two and those passing by.

Your eyes trail down the list, trying to find someone’s name. The sight of your other best friend’s name has you smiling, but you’re pulled out of your utopia when you find it situated beside a character he didn’t audition for—Lee Jaehyun as Count Paris.

“Hyunjae didn’t get Romeo?” The whisper has Yunjin halting her actions.

Her eyes rest back on the casting list. “What? He didn’t get in?”

“No, he did, but he’s playing Paris.” With furrowed eyebrows, your eyes look to who your scene partner is; who is your Romeo Montague? And when you see the word “Lee”, you expect that Sir Key might’ve made a mistake and inputted Hyunjae’s name twice.

That is until you read the word that trails after the first—Lee Sangyeon as Romeo Montague.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

Lighting erupts within you. The air current moves at a speed fast enough to form a tornado, and it just so happens that you’re in the eye of it. You’re face-to-face with a natural disaster, wondering its next course of action—to consume you whole or to leave you be.

Lee fucking Sangyeon; oh how you couldn’t even say his name without your blood boiling. Is there anything even good to say about the cocky motherfucker?

You shared the tragic fate of attending the same high school as Sangyeon. And just like you, he was in the theater club. At first, he was just someone like you—a student with a passion for acting. But the thing about Sangyeon is that he presents himself well, earning gushes from those part of the club, students and teachers alike. It seemed that he was the perfect actor, always landing the leading roles. At one point, you wanted to believe that it was because he was a good actor, but the reality unraveled itself when you saw what was behind the scenes.

Lee Jaehyun, or Hyunjae as he goes, shared the same dreams as Sangyeon. They both wanted to act, ideally landing leading roles. The passion the two shared should’ve fostered friendly rivalry, a way to propel them to reach heights never imagined. But the more Sangyeon received countless opportunities to play the lead role, the more Hyunjae’s determination started to crumble. What makes the whole thing even bleaker is that Sangyeon knew what his rival felt, and made the most out of that opportunity to tear him down.

What started off as genuine words of encouragement had turned into two-faced statements. And it hurt to see your best friend believe he was incapable of becoming an actor. If anything, you could name countless roles that he deserved to play the leading role, and many could agree with you. As your best friend started to crumble, you were driven by the desire to protect him. With every appearance Sangyeon made, your hostility towards him grew, and it didn’t help that he solidified it with only one interaction.

Scratchy; that’s what your sweater feels like against your skin. Perhaps it’s the heat of the hallway that has you wanting to strip your knit sweater off, or the material has just worn off. You tug on the collar, hoping that the discomfort will dissipate. Eyes trained on the corkboard that held the names of productions your club has done throughout the years, you wonder what role could you land for The Scottish Play.

It’s unlike you to audition for a big role, a leading role to be exact, for you found yourself growing comfortable in minor ones and ensemble. Yunjin has never been able to convince you to audition for the big roles, and your other friend, Kim Younghoon, could never find the right words to push you to sign up under a main character. But Hyunjae held some power over you—If you audition for Lady Macbeth, I’ll try out for Macbeth—and you couldn’t find it within yourself to say no, especially when Hyunjae was considering giving up auditioning for leading roles overall. 

You can feel the coolness of the concrete wall against your nape. Hamlet, Three Kingdoms, Sweeney Todd, and more are the productions you’ve hesitated to audition for the lead roles. You close your eyes in an attempt to calm your nerves. One audition wouldn’t kick you out of the club, right? If Ms. Jang learned that you were unfit to be an actor at that moment, you put the blame on Hyunjae.

(But in reality, you knew you would blame yourself. Hyunjae wouldn’t be at fault for what Ms. Jang decides to do with you. Every failure you face is caused by you, and you need to take responsibility for each one.)

Then, the door swings open, and the cold air that the air conditioners of the theater expel hits your skin, causing goosebumps to form. A shudder runs down your spine. Your eyes peel open, and you’re ready to greet the person who exited the theater, about to wish them luck. But when you catch sight of the one person who has done nothing but tear your best friend down, the taste in your mouth is like acid.

His head whips in your direction, catching sight of you seated with the sample script that Ms. Jang provided resting on your lap. His eyebrows shoot up and his eyes trail you from top to bottom. “So, which one?”

The question catches you off guard. Although you didn’t like Sangyeon, you two didn’t really talk for there was no reason to do so in the first place. So, when he does decide to talk to you—like this moment, and it’s not like you two really talked until now—you find yourself surprised at the interactions.

When you tilt your head in confusion, he chuckles with a smug look plastered on his face. “Which of the Three Witches?”

And with just one question, you feel your resolve snap. For him to assume that you were auditioning for one of those roles felt like an insult. It’s not that you didn’t see the value of these roles; you know that the production is nothing without the people to fulfill the minor roles. But to hear such a question from him with his record of humiliating Hyunjae, you cannot help but believe he’s trying to do the same to you.

“I’m auditioning for Lady Macbeth,” you answer, venom laced with your tone. It doesn’t help that shock casts on Sangyeon’s features.

“Oh, I see,” he starts. He clears his throat, an attempt to hide his bewilderment, and shoots you a smile. “Well, I’d like to have you as my scene partner.”

Cocky—that’s all Lee Sangyeon will ever be. His ego has been inflated with all the leading roles he’s landed. You’ve never met anyone filled with pride like his; how could he prance around with confidence that he would get the role he auditioned for every single time?

You roll your eyes as you stand up from your seat, the script now in your hands. “I can’t believe you’re so confident that you’ll be playing Macbeth. Have you ever considered that maybe you won’t play the main role for once?” The glare you shoot at him does nothing to his pride.

“I don’t know, I’m pretty confident about the performance I gave just a few minutes ago.”

It baffles you. Sangyeon continues to prove that he’s never been given a reality check; maybe you should snap some sense into him.

“I’d rather settle for being part of the ensemble—no, having no role than play your scene partner.” If Sangyeon is thrown off by your statement, he does a good job hiding it, just like the supposed perfect actor when it comes to handling ad-libs on stage. He would never understand what it means to be an actor—what makes a production successful—if he didn’t appreciate the minor roles. 

If he had something to say back to you, you don’t give him a window to do so for you have taken your leave. You first came with a desire for the auditions to be over, but now, you come with a desire to prove you’re an actor capable of any role. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought, especially whatever Lee Sangyeon seemed to think about you.

For the first time, you and Hyunjae played the leading roles in a production. Sangyeon was left as an understudy.

Although you were in university, it’s not that you could escape Sangyeon for you two were in theater. Thankfully, the productions you’ve had a chance to work on didn’t always have Sangyeon playing the leading role.

(Though, he did still play a handful. Perhaps he still held some charm over the university crowd.)

But due to the bigger cast and production team, it was usually easy for you to avoid him. You know when to take your leave, and you know to tune him out if you can hear him act (or speak, really). Nothing good ever comes out of interacting with Sangyeon; it’s best to limit your interactions with him for it would preserve your sanity.

But the universe seems to have other plans for you. Face-to-face with his name situated right beside the name in which your character is romantically interested, you cannot help but read his name again, and again, and again.

You wish that this is just a nightmare, that you fell asleep in the middle of Mr. Won’s class, and that you’re paying for the consequences by your consciousness presenting you with the worst outcome. God, you really did mean it when you said you would rather settle for no role than play Sangyeon’s scene partner.

Stupid Sangyeon, Sangyeon, Sangyeon. And as if it were the curse of the Bloody Mary, saying his name three times brings you to your demise.

“Huh, guess you ended up being my scene partner after all.”

You whip your head to where the devil stands, right beside you with arms crossed as his eyes remain on the casting list. His gaze lands on you, and a smug grin rests on his face. “I’m wondering if you’ll talk to Kevin or Sir Key about withdrawing from the production.”

His words make you frown. Before you can retort, he walks away, your eyes burning holes into his back. Yunjin could sense the rage within you and kept her hands on your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down. 

An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I cannot believe that guy.” You look at your best friend who only holds an apologetic look. “Can’t believe I have to deal with his shit even ‘till now.”

“I know.” She bites on the inside of her cheek. Before she could say more, her phone vibrated in her hand. As she reads out the notification, she groans. “Fuck, I need to go. I just remembered I have a project to work on.” She stores her phone away. “Where are you headed?”

“Uhm, I’m gonna wait for Hyunjae,” you say as your shoulders sag down. As you hear your best friend hum, you spot a teasing smile resting on her lips and you roll your eyes. “You’ve got to stop that.”

“Stop what? I’m not saying anything,” Yunjin attempts to defend herself but you both know she’s far from innocent.

You shake your head, a giggle leaving you. “Whatever, go! I’ll see you later.” You’re left staring at the cast list as she takes her leave. Busy hands fiddle with your phone, clicking one of the contacts marked as a favorite. You bring it close to your ear, waiting for him to pick it up.

“Hello?”

“Hyunjae-ah, where are you?”

“I’m on the way to where the cast is posted!” His hurried reply signals that he’s running to where you are. “I just heard from Joshua that it was released early.”

You chuckle. “Yeah, I heard the same from Yunjin. I’ll wait for you.”

“No need to wait too long.” You look behind you to see your best friend standing a few meters away. His hair is tousled up from all the running but still falls back perfectly in place. His hand combs through it, a grin resting on his lips at the sight of you, as he jogs towards you.

“Hey, where’d you come from?”

His arm finds its spot around your shoulders, bringing you close to his side. All while he is transfixed on the castling list, your gaze rests on your best friend. “I just had Ethics—oh my god, YOU GOT JULIET!” He spins to face you and brings you into a hug.

“Yeah,” your arms find their place around his shoulders as his limbs rest on your waist. “But, you know, you got Paris.” When you lean back, you only see a grin on his lips.

“Yeah, but who cares? I mean, my sweetheart got the part she wanted.” There he goes again, using the pet name that started as a quip but still sticks years later. You roll your eyes at his remark, but before you can say any more, he beats you to it. “Don’t think about backing out now.”

A sigh leaves you. “But,” you glance at the name of your (and Hyunjae’s) enemy, “I’ve gone through enough of him in high school. Can’t I live my uni life in peace?” You pout at your best friend, and he chuckles at your behavior, cheeks dusted with hues of red.

“Do you really want to give him the satisfaction of making you quit such a big role?” Would it be that bad to say yes? “C’mon, playing Juliet is a huge deal! You’re destined to play that role! And, I mean, you wouldn’t want to disappoint Sir Key and Kevin…”

God, it did hurt you to agree with Hyunjae. You didn’t want to waste the time and effort Sir Key and Kevin Moon, the teacher adviser and the director, must’ve put into crafting the cast list. But to go through months with Sangyeon, all for a university play? It’s not that you were pursuing a career in theater, or acting for that matter.

But would you from a few years back—a high schooler who treated every theater production as if it were a Broadway one—say the same thing? Is this the role you wanted to take on as an actor, one willing to step down over a nuisance? 

With one sigh, Hyunjae knew what your answer was. He smiles before dragging you away from the piece of paper that seems to only bring downpour. “I don’t know if this will make you feel better but I heard from Changmin that there’ll be a house party. Maybe we can drink the sour mouths away.”

“Drink the what away?” You chuckle at his choice of words. “Hyunjae, I’m so glad you aren’t a scriptwriter.”

He scoffs at your insult, “But you get what I mean.”

“I do not.”

He rolls his eyes, playfully shoving you which causes you to giggle. “Let’s just drink the bitterness away. We could be meeting our other castmates and the prod team, maybe getting to know them more.”

You cannot help but hum as you ponder over your schedule for the rest of the week. “I don’t know. I have this one homework for Mr. Won’s class that I sure as hell don’t know how to answer. I mean, I don’t even know what the instructions are!”

“Ah, just trust me! I’ll help you out with that. Just,” he stops you two in the middle of the hallway. There were barely any students for they scrambled off to their respective classrooms or looked for lunch. He pouts at you, his hands now holding yours as his fingers draw circles on the back of your dorsals. “Go with me, will you?”

It doesn’t take you a moment for you to make up your mind; you’re sure the trade-offs that come from that party won’t save your ass from Physics or Sangyeon.

But when Hyunjae leans in, his lips ghosting your ear, your breath hitches. “I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.” You’re nothing but a puddle (and a sheep). So once he leans back, you nod. At the sight of your confirmation, he smiles. “Okay, let’s go have lunch.”

You can only hope that Hyunjae (or any of your friends, really) understood annular momentum, or whatever it’s called.

(You truly are a lost cause in Physics, and you’ll be blaming it on Sangyeon. Every inconvenience is caused by him, anyway.)

For anyone who thinks theater kids couldn’t party, they’re wrong (partially, only). Sure, there were the occasional show tunes that played from Kevin’s playlist, and a certain someone named Ju Haknyeon who belts out of the blue, but no one complained.

With only a few drinks in, you and Hyunjae are buzzed. And although you both agreed on using this party as an opportunity to get to know the other members, you still found yourselves sticking together—shoulders bumped, hands laced, or arms wrapped around each other.

Now, you two along with Yunjin and Younghoon were hanging out in the kitchen, not away from where the crowd was but quiet enough to have your own conversations.

“You know, I finally got to talk to Jihyo,” Yunjin says before taking a sip from her drink.

Younghoon tilts his head. “Park Jihyo? The one playing Lady Capulet?” A hum of confirmation leaves her as she continues to drink. “Did you see her audition for The Baker’s Wife for Into The Woods?”

Yunjin nods, letting the rim of her cup leave her lips and smacking Younghoon’s arm repeatedly. “I was able to sit in for the auditions because I signed up for prod team instead. Girl, I can’t believe she didn’t get the part.”

“Yeah, didn’t Rei get the part instead?” Hyunjae asks to which Younghoon nods.

“Didn’t she audition for Little Red Riding Hood?”

Yunjin shrugs at your question. “I’m not sure, but I do see her playing that role versus the wife.” She sets her cup on the kitchen counter behind her. “Don’t get me wrong, though. They’re both outstanding actors but I would’ve changed the casting. Some of them would’ve played different roles that suited them vocally and acting-wise.”

“Well,” you sigh. “You know that some directors are just batshit blind.” Hyunjae cannot help but elbow you, earning a whine from you as he chuckles. “I’m serious, though! Like, look at Hyunjae! He’s the perfect example.”

“Ouch. Thanks for reminding me of my tragic history.”

You roll your eyes at Hyunjae’s words, the playful tone evident in his words. “I’m just saying, some directors don’t know what they’re doing.”

In no way did you have anything against Kevin. You’re certain that he knew what he was doing; it didn’t sit right that Hyunjae lost a huge role to the same prick who couldn’t get off his high horse. But there is no point in contesting because your best friend wouldn’t allow you. All that mattered to him was that you got the role.

“Yes, but I trust Kevin. Honestly, I’m just glad I still landed a role,” Hyunjae shrugs as he sips.

Younghoon hums along. “Exactly! I heard Hyeongjun didn’t even make it to ensemble.”

A groan rips out of your throat, knowing that the two made a good point. “Yeah, I trust him, too. I just,” you shake your head at the thought of your enemy. “I’m just sick of Sangyeon.”

At the mention of the devil’s name, you feel an arm wrap around your shoulders, your shoulder hitting against something firm. And when your eyes drift to the stranger, you’re met with the bane of your existence.

“Talking about me, sweetheart?”

To hear Sangyeon use that pet name had your stomach churning. You plant your hand against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but you feel his pecs through the white, cotton material, and you quickly retract it. Instead, you shrug his arm off.

“What are you doing here?”

His gaze rests on the boy beside you, shooting him a smile. “Shouldn’t we use this time to build our chemistry?” To others, Sangyeon may have genuine enthusiasm to get to know his scene partner, but you and Hyunjae knew that his grin held nothing but arrogance.

You move closer to Hyunjae and his hand finds its spot on your waist. Sangyeon’s eyes flicker to your best friend’s hand but he still holds the same smile.

“Sangyeon, it’s just acting. I can easily fake chemistry,” you shake your head, trying to scoot even further towards Hyunjae. There’s barely any space between you two. “Unless your supposed great ass can’t fake it. Did all those years spent in theater not teach you anything?”

There’s no way to fake chemistry; everyone knows that, from actors to audiences. But when you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, you would take any opportunity to get back at him for what he’s done—not only to Hyunjae but to you, as well.

Despite your words, Sangyeon’s expression never wavers. Stoic Sangyeon—he always knew how to get on your nerves. “Isn’t the point of this party to get to know each other?” You roll your eyes, looking away to give your eyes a break from the nuisance.

But when you feel his breath fanning against your left cheek, you’re afraid to say anything. The distance between you two right in front of your friends makes it feel like it’s forbidden, especially when Hyunjae has his arm wrapped around you.

“Especially with our kissing scenes.”

A chill runs down your spine. You know what he’s doing—embarrassing you in front of your high school friends just to rile you up, and rubbing it into Hyunjae that he got the lead role once more. Whatever place Sangyeon first held in your life didn’t matter anymore; he’s dug himself deeper into the pits of hell that you never knew of until this moment.

You want to push Sangyeon off and drag Hyunjae out of the house, alone together and far away from him, but a booming voice breaks the tension.

“Wow! It’s nice to see our Romeo and Juliet getting to know each other,” Kevin comes into the kitchen with a grin and gains everyone’s attention.

Under the gaze of your director, you don’t think twice about what you do. “Yeah!” Your arm quickly links with Sangyeon’s, and you notice Sangyeon freezes up. It’s out of character for you to do such; you can only imagine the expressions of your friends. “Just old friends catching up, right?” When you look at Sangyeon, you notice a flicker of confusion in his eyes, but your forced smile is enough for him to get the message.

“Yeah,” he smiles at Kevin. “I’m just glad that my Juliet is someone I know.” My Juliet? Oh, you’re going to be sick. 

Kevin is amused with the newfound information. “I didn’t know you two were friends! I never see you two interacting.”

Perhaps your animosity towards Sangyeon is obvious but you weren’t going to allow the feud to get in the way of the role of a lifetime—Kevin can never know about the water that has gotten stained with red.

“Oh, we all went to the same high school.”

“Same theater club, too,” Sangyeon chimes in.

Kevin looks at everyone with amazement. “Oh, that’s so cool! From the same high school to the same university. I’m sure you’re all happy to see each other in the theater scene again.” Everyone but one, really.

“I’m looking forward to seeing everyone work in the production,” his eyes rested on you and Sangyeon once more. “Especially the chemistry between you two.”

When Kevin takes his leave, you all bid him farewell. And once he was an earshot away, you shrugged Sangyeon off. “See? I can fake chemistry.” Your glare finally causes a small reaction from him—the startled expression on his face makes you reign victorious. “Clearly, you need to work on that.”

If Sangyeon wants to retort, you don’t allow him to do so as you leave the kitchen with Hyunjae’s hand in yours.

A few hours have passed since Sangyeon decided to come and dampen Hyunjae’s and your moods. Thankfully, you haven’t seen him since but it could be because you were too drunk to care, or maybe you were too distracted by the boy whose lap you sit on.

“Hey, why don’t we get out of here?” Your best friend’s lips graze your ear. His hands hold onto your hip, his thumbs drawing patterns on the exposed skin that’s starting to peek. You giggle as you shake your head, earning a chuckle from him. “Why not?”

His whines have you dizzy (or it’s probably the effects of the alcohol), but you do your best to answer. “Hyunjae, we’re supposed to be getting to know our castmates better. Isn’t that why you asked me to go with you?” As you looked at everyone in the living room, you know for sure there was no chance to talk to them anymore for they were too intoxicated to remember tonight’s events.

When he presses his lips to your jawline, you cannot help but close your eyes at the sensation. “Yeah, but we aren’t even talking to anyone. Why don’t we just go back to your place and just, I don’t know, make out?” He whispers the last words as if it were taboo.

This is what you and Hyunjae were—friends who couldn’t help but enter territories that blur the line between platonic and romantic. Since you two first entered university, you and Hyunjae couldn’t seem to keep your hands to themselves, always finding their places on each other. It started in such a blur—at a party just like this, both intoxicated—but both of you couldn’t help but keep it going. You still limited your relationship to occasional make-out sessions and snuggling, but you never went past such stages with him. The two of you didn’t mind the unclear boundaries, anyway.

“I don’t know,” you finally look at your best friend. His eyes seem to glimmer, and the heat rushes to your cheeks. “I haven’t gotten to talk to Daniel.”

His eyebrows shoot up in amusement. “Kang Daniel? The one playing Lord Capulet?” As you hum, he chuckles. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of another man while you’re on my lap, sweetheart.” There he goes again, using that pet name.

“What do you mean? I just want to get to know my castmates better.” The teasing tone is evident. You crave the attention—the possession—Hyunjae seems to have for you.

And when his nose brushes against yours, all thoughts are knocked out of you. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to know anyone else, not even their names. You already have me.”

For a moment, you almost think this is it—the two of you will enter domains never traversed and there will be no way to go back from it, but you don’t mind, not with him, anyway.

His eyes flicker to your lips, and you hold your breath. “Don’t do that,” he chuckles. “You need to catch your breath before I take it away.”

Before he can do anything, you feel the couch move as someone takes a seat beside him. You’re ready to put some distance between the two of you, but when your eyes land on the stranger, you realize that the universe is not by your side or Hyunjae’s.

Hyunjae scoffs and his hand cradles your face, an attempt to get your attention back, but your blood boils over the sight of the same guy who always ruins everything.

“I didn’t know Juliet gets so touchy with Paris.” Sangyeon’s comment has you rolling your eyes. Clearly, you’re too distracted by him, and Hyunjae can’t do anything but give up. Instead, your best friend just settles on holding you close to him while your gaze remains on the devil.

“What’s with you? We don’t have to talk to each other unless it’s for rehearsals.” A frustrated sigh leaves you. “Don’t you know that all we have to do is act?”

When all you’re met with is the same cocky smile he flashed Hyunjae back at the kitchen, you shake your head. You’re about to glance at your best friend, prepared to tell him that you two should leave and retreat to your place.

That is until you feel someone’s fingers hold onto your chin, redirecting your gaze to Sangyeon. Now, you’re face-to-face with Sangyeon, the distance between you two is even smaller in comparison to when you were in the kitchen. 

The air is knocked out of your lungs, your eyes looking right at Sangyeon’s. Whatever you looked like had him smirking—you were defenseless against him for once.

“Can’t handle it?” The question is meant to provoke you, have your blood boil so that you scream profanities at him. You’re sure he’s pertaining to all the little stunts he’s been doing; teasing you to get a reaction from you, acting like you two are friends, and making comments about your acting experience.

But for a second, you almost think he’s talking about himself—could you handle him not only on the show dates but also be surrounded by him for the upcoming two months?

And once more, your brain turns into mush. The lights become streaks of different colors, and they do their job of making Sangyeon look different—still the same cocky motherfucker, but now, you want a taste.

Your mouth goes dry and you’re scared to exhale, but Sangyeon only smiles before letting his hand leave your chin. It’s clear he’s happy by your soundless reaction. When he stands up from the couch, he glances at Hyunjae, and his smile turns almost sinister.

You would’ve said something like you always do, but you’re unable to form a coherent sentence. You’re intoxicated; the alcohol’s still in your system, but Sangyeon’s gaze shows that the drinks you’ve had are nothing compared to him.

With that, he takes his leave. Whatever moment you and Hyunjae shared is now lost—all thanks to Sangyeon, once again.

if you enjoyed reading this, please do reblog with feedback!

[sungbeam]

nonidol!lee hyunjae x fem!reader

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him!

▷ genre, warnings. bffs2l, fluff, angst, comedy/humor, swearing, college au, pining, hyunyn r kinda franchise movie buffs, shirtless hyunjae......, slow burn-ish lol, if ur a theater kid i am so sorry, stress and academic pressures, mentions of a bitter ex-friendship and ex-relationship, sabotaging and low-key terrorizing by an ex-friend, kissing, insecurity, lots of jargon i looked up and hope i'm using correctly, massive leaps in time and multiple chapters that span one day 💀, denial is a river in egypt so ig hyunjae's in egypt

▷ total wc. 30.9k (i actually overshot this one r we surprised 0_0)

this is the fourth installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but there will be references to other fics, and all prev and future yns will be referred to as __!yn !! i do recommend reading at least one of the prior storylines ;')

a/n: mmmmmmmmmm idk what to say but have fun bye!!! AND REBLOG FOR GOD'S SAKE REBLOG PLEASE—

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): ONE ON ONE

“HAVE you always wanted to be a playwright?”

The question caught you off guard as you glanced up from your tablet screen, the white blue-light contrasting sharply against the warm amber radiating from the small, battery-operated lamp seated on the plastic folding table. There were a couple of technical issues going on behind the curtain at the moment, so the transition to the next person auditioning would be delayed by a couple minutes. In retrospect, it was nothing, but when you were already a couple weeks late behind schedule, a couple of minutes was everything.

A young and bright second-year student sat to your right in the middle rows of the university performing arts center nosebleeds. She was peppy and eager and passionate—all the things that you sometimes saw yourself as when you were her age. Her name was Bae Sumin, and she wasn’t here to audition, nor was she here for you. She was actually here to interview a few of the dancers for the winter showcase in representation of the university’s premier newspaper called The Daily. She had asked if she could sit in for a few of the auditions and observe, maybe ask a few questions; who were you to refuse an eagle-eyed undergrad who reminded you so much of yourself?

“Oh, well,” you began, eyes flitting to the velvet curtain where you saw a man in a dark baseball cap—Lee Jihoon—give you a swift thumbs up, “kind of. Playwriting was my first love, but it eventually turned into screenwriting over time.”

“So why choose playwriting for your capstone instead of screenwriting?” Sumin followed up, as you and her attention turned to the spotlit stage where your next auditioner walked out onto.

You knew the answer to that; you really did. But the audition was beginning, and though he was introducing himself to you, you couldn’t quite get your head in the game. Why did you choose to write a play over directing a film? You quickly murmured an answer to the second-year beside you as the student onstage had gotten so nervous he dropped his copy of the script on the floor. “I guess, when it counts, you always go back to your first love.”

— ✶

It was times like these where you really valued a good, strong cup of coffee.

“—I’m gonna stop you right there.” The poor kid—you really did feel bad for cutting people off sometimes, but you swore it was wholly necessary—froze like a deer in headlights. You stood up from your chair and began making your way down the aisle and into one of the rows that were closer to the stage. “Michael, is it?”

Michael, the student on stage who had been auditioning to play the role of a Napa Valley wine salesman, bobbed his head in affirmation.

You dipped your head. “Okay, Michael. Let me ask you: what is your motivation for this scene as a wine salesman? Because, if I’m being honest, dude, I’ve counted like… four different ways you’re playing this character.” In this singular scene alone. Your head was spinning from stress, and his mannerisms felt right for the role, but his acting itself just wasn’t hitting the mark. (If that even made sense, but your initial thought when he first walked onto stage gave you the aura of a business major.)

“Um,” he stammered, scratching the back of his head, “my motivation is to… sell wine?”

“Sell wine, and? What else?” Please pick up on the lines. Please tell me you read the other lines of this character.

He rifled through his packet of stapled script papers, clammy fingers flipping through and his eyes racing over lines. He probably printed out multiple sheets to audition for multiple parts in case this one fell through. “Oh! I, uhm, I’m supposed to eventually lock Alex and Kai in the wine cellar.”

“Because…” You prompted.

“Because… my boss is the… second cousin of the bride’s uncle?” He quickly added on, and you could see the cogs in his brain turning like rent was due (your rent—your rent was due—oh shit), “Wait! Wait! And Uncle Lee overheard the ex-boyfriend plotting to get Alex alone, so he asked me to hide Alex, and I do it because I want to get promoted.”

You punched the admittedly sky-high ceiling of the performance art hall. “Bingo. Now give me desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman, Michael.”

Michael did indeed give you a desperate, ass-kissing wine salesman. He did so, very well, in fact, that you declared that you were done for the day. Because you definitely were. If you saw any more people and heard the same lines of script over and over for any longer, you were going to commit murder. At least, not without filling your stomach first. When Michael was done and scurrying off stage, you caught one of the sophomores working with Jihoon—you thought her name was SW!Yn—and asked if she could have the house lights turned on.

You trudged back up to your original seat up in the nosebleeds and found that Sumin had disappeared off somewhere. However, she left a baby pink-colored sticky note on the table for you to read: I realized that I have an actual job to do, but watching you work was so cool. Thank you for letting me sit in! x, Sumin. She’d scrawled her phone number below the message line in case you were up for a proper session to let her pick your brain, and you felt yourself smile as you tucked the note into the back of your phone case for later.

“Yn-ie!”

You settled into your seat, an eyebrow cocked in blatant amusement as you watched your best friend, Lee Hyunjae, leap down from the stage and bound up the aisle to where you were. “Where’ve you been for the past two hours?” You mused as you began packing your things away into your backpack at your feet. Hyunjae had come in with you early this morning at seven, and for the three out of five hours you’d been conducting callbacks and auditions, he had been seated beside you to keep you (relatively) sane and to give you his opinion.

He, of course, had not been allowed to sit in for Kim Younghoon’s audition, because that was favoritism. Hyunjae tried to convince you by saying he would be even more judgmental of Younghoon, but you had effectively booted him out of the auditorium. After that, he disappeared to god knew where, and Sumin replaced him.

“I’ve been around,” he said to you casually. Instead of coming into the aisle were you were, he went up one more row. “I’ll tell you about it at lunch. Hungry?”

You patted your stomach, leaning back in your chair and stretching your limbs over your head like a cat. “Yes, sir. I can go for a buffet and a half right about now.”

“Oh, a buffet and a half?” He chuckled. He came up behind you and wrapped his arms over your upper half and rested his chin on top of your head. Your heart skipped about a dozen beats then; his embrace was always very warm. “So that must mean you're resuming this train in the afternoon, too.”

“Glad to know you pay attention.”

“Hey!” He squawked indignantly, no doubt jutting his bottom lip out in a Younghoon-esque pout. “I do pay attention to you.”

You made a face that he couldn’t see, but he could feel you pat his hands. “Sure, buddy, sure.”

Cleaning up didn’t take too long, as you reassured (more so reminded) Jihoon that you would be back at around 3 o’clock sharp. If he or Chan weren’t in to turn on lights and the like, you were certain you could hold your own. You and Hyunjae agreed on heading over to one of the closer restaurants on the Ave, only a few minutes’ walk from the performing arts hall. It was a cozy sort of cafe that served really good wonton noodle soup for both winter and summer days (Hyunjae always teased you for drinking hot soup on hot days, but it was something you had done since you were a kid).

Once the two of you had settled in a booth tucked away into the corner of the establishment, you were both swift to relay your orders to the waiter. Saying you were starving would be an understatement.

“You know, there are just some people who I can’t understand how they’ve made it so far in the program,” Hyunjae said to you as you squeezed a wedge of lemon juice into his glass of water. “Thank you,” he beamed boyishly, accepting the lemony beverage to sip. “—I mean, I’m sure they got in somehow, and like—I have no right to judge, but at this point, shouldn’t you understand the basic principles of design?”

You gave a meager bob of your head, taking your own glass to repeat your actions with a new lemon wedge. “They should if they’re all graduating in one quarter, too.”

“They’re all doing capstones,” he confirmed.

You offered him an amused smile. “Well at least you know that you’re doing okay, then.”

Hyunjae sighed, leaning back against his booth seat. His gaze flickered out the window for a second, then his lip curled upward as he returned his attention to you. “I guess so. Oh!”

He straightened and leaned forward again, bracing his forearms onto the table so he inclined himself toward you. “I was gonna tell you all about my backstage adventure!”

You chuckled. “Do tell, Jae.”

“Well, we begin our adventure with collecting dance kids like Pokemon—”

You sputtered around your straw, nearly snorting water from your nose and you swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth. Hyunjae’s eyes lit up as he laughed, but he was reaching over to hand you a napkin from the dispenser on the table. “I did not expect you to say that,” you managed to croak through your miserable laughter.

Hyunjae wagged his eyebrows at you. “What can I say? I am hilarious.”

“One out of a dozen times.”

“One out of one.”

“One out of ten.”

Hyunjae simply smiled. He could do this all day. “One out of one.”

But so could you. “One out of ten.”

He leaned closer. “One out of one.”

Not one to be beaten out by your best friend, you inched closer with a slightly narrowed gaze. “One. Out. Of. Ten—”

“Order of wonton noodle soup and an order of dan dan mian?” Both you and Hyunjae shot apart, heat crawling up to your cheeks, and you wondered if it was obvious to the bored-looking waiter setting your food down on the table. You passed a glance across the table at Hyunjae, but as always, he seemed practically unfazed. In fact, he was grinning like a madman.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. When the waiter disappeared and left you and Hyunjae to your own, strange devices, Hyunjae took a pair of plastic chopsticks from the collection on the table, wiping the pair down, then handing them to you. You thanked him as you accepted the utensils from him and wiped down a soup spoon for yourself.

As the two of you began digging into your separate dishes—with Hyunjae dipping a spoon into your soup and with you reaching over to pluck a couple pieces of minced pork from his bowl—it seemed that a silent truce about the matter prior had come to settle.

Hyunjae suddenly cleared his throat, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t using his chopsticks. “So as I was saying earlier—I found Juyeonie somewhere—I can’t remember. And then we found Sunwoo. The poor kid was just wandering around like a lost sheep; he was looking for Changmin, so we all went searching for him. And then Younghoon caught up with us—how’d his callback go, by the way?”

You swallowed the bite you had in your mouth before answering. “He did great, as usual. But you’re not allowed to know more than that.”

He sent you a playfully unsatisfied deadpan. “Hmph.”

“Hmph, back at ya,” you teased. You arranged a perfect spoonful of noodles, soup and wonton, carefully blowing on the surface. “So where did you guys end up finding Changmin?”

"In a closet."

You lurched, furiously holding back your snort as you closed your mouth around your bite. Bad. Idea.

Hyunjae didn't bother hiding his giggles as he watched you struggle to chew and swallow your bite of food. "You okay over there?"

With a glare that needed no extended interpretation, you wrestled the food down your throat. "I hate you."

"Hehe, whatever you say," he sang. "He was technically in a dressing room, but same thing. He was miserable, dude. Looked so perturbed."

You scoffed. "Perturbed? What is this? The Fast and the Furious?"

"Hey! Leave my man Vin Diesel alone!"

You cocked a brow at him as you slurped noodles into your mouth. "No." And then you added, "There is literally no reason for there to be so many Fast and Furious movies."

He huffed at you. "You know, that's exactly what people say about all franchises. What would you say if somebody came after Star Wars or Marvel like that, hm?"

"I'd murder them, and you'd help me hide the bodies."

A beat passed. "Touché."

Your lip curled in mild satisfaction. "Okay, so why's the squirrel feeling so down in the dumps? Something about that ex of his?"

Hyunjae motioned vaguely with his free hand. "Ex dance partner. Apparently, it was this whole thing that happened in high school, but I didn't get all the details."

"Ah," you replied. "I'm sure a good cup of coffee can get him to perk up just fine."

"Agreed." Hyunjae's eyes went skyward as a thought occurred to him. You couldn't help but admire the definition in his jawline as he did so. "There was something weird that happened."

"Oh?"

He quirked his mouth to the side and a crease formed in his forehead. "Yeah… we were talking about your play, right? And I was agreeing with Changmin that the whole thing was my favorite because you wrote it—"

Oh. You nodded your head indulgently, expression set in a way that seemed like you were incredibly invested in what he was saying. In reality though, your insides were flaring and you could feel the sweat dripping down the back of your neck.

"—and they just looked at each other? Like that thing you and I do when we know exactly what the other person is thinking, but I didn't get it." Hyunjae wrinkled his nose, reaching for his water. "Wondered what that was about."

You averted your eyes to your bowl of soup, trying to get ahold of yourself. "Yeah," you laughed, and you hoped it didn't sound as nervous as you thought it did, "I have no idea what that's about."

He simply shrugged then. "It's probably just something stupid," Hyunjae mused, then chuckled. "Just my friends for you. Silly geese."

You cleared your throat. "Yeah…silly geese, for sure."

And you were going to have a talk with those silly geese.

EPISODE TWO: LET'S ROCK 'N' ROLL

THIS was not your first rodeo, and it certainly would not be your last. It was approximately two weeks later, the Saturday at the caboose of Spring Break, that you found yourself standing in one of the first few rows of nosebleeds with your hair pulled up and out of your face and a packet copy of your script in hand. The entire acting cast sat in a sort of half circle mass on the stage with their own copies of the script. Today was Script Read-Through Day—as well as an intermittent fitting day.

Thanks to the efforts of your fellow workaholic, drama nerd classmate Kim Hongjoong, a handful of costumes for the entire play had been completed over the length of Spring Break. You'd asked your cast to find time over finals week and Spring Break to get a quick fitting done by Hongjoong and his team, and luckily, all of that had gone smoothly.

Now, it was your turn to lean in.

"Let's get down to business, everyone!" You said with a clap of your hands to capture everyone's attention. Your eyes roamed over the faces of the people who were selected and your heart thundered in excitement. This—this was just one part of the rush you lived for. You didn't bother to suppress your grin. "Thanks for being on time and making it back here; I know I cut your break short, but we're on a very tight schedule. Can we start with going around and introducing ourselves with name, year, major, and role?"

The circlet of introductions began at Cha Eunwoo, the young man in your year who you selected for the role of Kai, the main male lead. Younghoon was cast as Ryan, Kai's best friend, and the guy who was marrying Choi Miyeon's character Lily. Minatozaki Sana was playing Alex, opposite Eunwoo. You had been surprised Younghoon hadn't auditioned specifically for the role of Kai, but you were content that he'd gone for Ryan instead—a simple chemistry reading with the four main leads the week prior had confirmed to you that you'd made all the right choices.

The main cast also included Jung Eunbi, Jung Yerin, Choi San, and Dong Sicheng, another close friend of yours. All in all, you had been incredibly lucky with the ending line up of cast members, and the supporting cast, too.

The read-through carried along smoothly—well, mostly.

“—why, of course, dear Prim! It mainly trickles down to a few… specific details—Yn,” said San as he abruptly broke out of character. Everyone’s heads shot up from their scripts, including yours, as you watched San’s hand air-gesture to an invisible beard on his face. “I’m getting one of those weird old man beards, right?”

There was a murmur of chuckles throughout the group, and you gave him a small smile. “Of course, you are. I asked Hongjoong for the perverted-looking ones, specifically.”

He grinned, nodding. “Nice!” He thought about it, “Wait…”

Younghoon coughed up a laugh. “Shall we continue?”

You inclined your head in affirmation. “Thanks, Hoon. Yes, let’s get back to it. We were at Uncle Lee’s line about ‘specific details’.”

San had been selected to play the character of Uncle Lee, the role quite literally taken from the original Shakespeare play yours was based upon: Much Ado About Nothing. Your thesis play, the biggest project you would ever conduct in your undergraduate years, was called Jasmine. The storyline centered around ex-somethings, Alex and Kai, who were Maid of Honor and Best Man to their best friends Lily and Ryan, respectively. Because of Alex and Kai’s troublesome past, they acted like they hated each other, and Lily schemed to make them finally see eye to eye—as a wedding gift to herself, of course. She also convinced a party of characters to get in on the plan with her. It had all been very fun for you to write, and you imagined that the actors up on this stage now would make it all the better when they brought it to life.

With the read-through completed, you began splitting up groups to begin chemistry exploration readings. While you ushered Sicheng, Eunwoo, Sana, and a couple of the key supporting cast members onto stage, everyone else hopped down and scattered into the nosebleeds so they could get to know their fellow cast members more intimately.

You stood in the second row of the audience in the smack middle, one arm crossed over your stomach and the other propping your script up for yourself. Younghoon settled on one of the seats next to you, a small smile appearing onto his face as he folded his leg over the other. "Why hello Miss Director."

You hummed good-naturedly. "Why hello Mister Groom. Not up to saying hello to your fellow cast members yet?" Usually he was good about introducing himself to everyone; he was quite the charmer.

"I told the lovebirds I would pay attention to their chemistry reading for pointers," he grinned, eyes sparkling beneath the dim lights. "Kai's nervous about it."

"Ah," you voiced, glancing back to the stage where Eunwoo and Sana began interacting with Sicheng and the others on stage. "Awful nice of you, Ryan. Where's your darling bride?"

He gave you a show of wistful glance as he turned his eyes toward the ceiling and propped his cheek against his fist. "My beloved? Well, she is working her magic for the wedding. I told her—" he leaned forward onto his knees then, gesturing with his hands, "—I told her, darling! This is your special day. Anything you want is what I want. You should have seen the smile on her face—a daisy in bloom, Miss Ln.”

An amused expression fixed upon your face, you tipped your imaginary hat to him. “I think you should go find your bride, sir, before her plans get out of hand.”

“Her plans could never get out of hand,” he dismissed with the flick of his wrist.

“So you’re a Yes Man now?” You replied, your brain racking for the one part in the script you had written with this exact dialogue.

You saw the recognition flicker in Younghoon’s eyes. “That’s what love does to you, my friend. It’s not the same as those tally marks you always draw in that notebook,” he replied swiftly, gesturing to your script like it was the notebook that Kai was supposed to keep. “Say, you’ve never told me what those were for.”

Pleased, you arched an eyebrow. “That’s not the line, Hoon.”

You saw the moment he snapped out of character. He smiled, the kind of Younghoon trademark everyone could recognize and become spellbound by. “I don’t have the entire script memorized yet, Yn-ie.”

“I bet you have at least half of it memorized.”

He opened his mouth to remark something when someone hollered, “Oy” from the stage. Both you and Younghoon turned your attention to Eunwoo, who had captured both of your attention. He threw his arms open wide with a teasing grin. “Ryan, you’re supposed to be watching my back, man!”

Sana shot him a scowl. “Hey, if you get a second in this duel, then I get one, too. Lily!”

“As much fun as dueling you and winning would be, Alex, I’m not stuck in ye old days—”

“Your savior has arrived!” Everyone’s heads whirled in the direction of the doors at the back of the auditorium. There was a good handful of people who began filing in through the doors, with a very familiar blond at the helm of all the madness. Reminiscent of that one fiery Elmo meme, your best friend had his arms raised with an ear-splitting grin on his face.

Kevin Moon, one of the people amongst the masses, rolled his eyes as he passed Hyunjae to enter the auditorium. “They’re rehearsing, man.”

Choi Chanhee was swift to follow his friend. “Yeah, Hyunjae,” he teased with a grin.

You fixed your friend with a confused look. “Uhm… Hyunjae, what’s happening?”

Hyunjae jogged down to where you were, leaving his army of… people? behind. “You said you needed volunteers to help you prepare set pieces, right? Well, I told you I’d recruit some people and—” He made a wide, sweeping gesture toward the large group of people now simply crowded at the back of the room, awaiting instructions. Kevin and Chanhee sent you boyish smiles as they waved in greeting. “—I did!”

The lightbulb went off in your head. You couldn’t believe you forgot. “Oh, my god. You actually listened.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose. “Hurtful.”

Younghoon laid his head against his arms over the back of his seat with a teasing gleam in his eyes. “Aw, how romantic.”

Hyunjae pointed to his lanky actor friend. “Is he in character?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Your head shot over to Younghoon just as his eyes met yours. The man shrugged with feigned innocence, standing up to greet Chanhee and Kevin as the other two began slowly leading the army of volunteers down to where you all were setting up. You wondered how on Earth that man’s partner could stand his impish antics.

Hyunjae slipped into the row with you with a wince. “Aish, I can never figure out when he’s in proper character or not.”

“He is,” you blurted. You knew for a fact that Younghoon hadn’t been in character, but Hyunjae didn’t need to know that. Ignorance was bliss, after all. “But that’s besides the point—Jaehyun—”

He flashed you a smile, bringing his hands up to make a jazz hands gesture. “Uh oh, that’s my name-name. I either did really well or screwed up big time.”

You laughed, pressing your free hand to your forehead. “You did really well—”

“Yes!” He cheered while punching the sky. He laughed, bumbling over to you with arms open wide to embrace you. You simply could not escape him. “You’re welcome.”

You lightly punched his chest. “I never said thank you. But thank you. I appreciate it a lot.”

He let you go, lightly patting your head. A warm wave of energy made your nerves feel fuzzy at their synapses. “You don’t have to thank me for doing this for you. By the way, YH!Yn is on her way over; she’s just coming back from her internship.”

Younghoon suddenly, out of nowhere, appeared in the row again. “I heard YH!Yn’s name,” he chirped with a smile that looked like a heart. He waved his phone screen around, as if you could actually read what was on his screen, “Yeah, she said she’s on her way now.”

You nearly melted. “Oh, really? She doesn’t have to if she’s uncomfortable, Hoon. I know big crowds make her anxious—”

“Ah, it’s all good,” he said. “She’s happy to do it, really. It’s not that big of a crowd here, and you’re her friend, Yn. She wants to help out.”

“Speaking of more friends helping out—” cut in Kevin with Chanhee in tow (where did all of them pop up from, goodness), “—Cobie just texted that he, Sangyeon, Juyeon, and JC!Yn are all on their way, too. What’s the plan for all the set pieces then, Yn?”

All eyes went to you, and you felt your heart swell with love, pride—quite literally every happy emotion there was. This whole project had plagued your every waking and unconscious thought for months now. The pressure for this production to be good… there were too many people watching you now. But as you led your friends and your supposed army of volunteers to the backstage area, you felt like there was no way you could fail.

Right?

— ✶

You were cleaning up for the night. Your throat ached and exhaustion wore at your bones from the very extensive day you and everyone else had. Almost the entire cast and volunteer and tech crew members had cleared out by now—your friends had all decided to get dinner together, and you would all head over once you had finished with your business here.

You hiked the strap of your bag over your shoulder with a haggard sigh as you passed beneath the ghost light hanging backstage that signaled that Jihoon was practically done for the night. You caught a glimpse of the man hustling down the corridor and you called out to him.

“Hey, Jihoon-ah! I was hoping I could catch you on your way out.”

Jihoon glanced up from his phone, his slight smile illuminated in the pale blue-light of his phone screen. “Ah, hey, Yn-ie. Good first rehearsal today?”

You fell into step with him as you both maneuvered the dark backstage corridors together. “Yeah, actually. I’m very proud of everyone’s progress so far. I was so stressed about being a couple weeks behind, but… I’m lucky I have such a good group of people here.”

He hummed, nodding. “Definitely. That one—your Hyunjae—”

Your heart stumbled. “Hyunjae? What about him?”

“It’s nothing, but I thought I should mention that I heard a couple girls gossiping earlier—”

You nearly stopped in your tracks, and you felt something crawl beneath your skin. “What’d they say?”

Jihoon glanced over at you, maybe a bit surprised at how sharp your tone was, but he continued on smoothly, “You know that I don’t like involving myself in that petty drama, right? But they were volunteering with the set pieces and stuff, and they were talking shit about him. The usual, like, cocky, arrogant bullshit. Something about wondering how you put up with him all the time.”

You felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. “Jesus,” you swore. “Who were they? I’ll deal with them—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said to you, firmly but not unkindly. The two of you had stopped in the middle of the corridor now, your voices hushed yet harsh still. “Hey, Yn—I took care of it. I don’t tolerate that shit in my theater, you hear? You have a lot on your plate, so I didn’t want you to worry, but I wanted to make sure you knew.”

Breathe, Yn. Your eyes shuddered for a moment. Hyunjae wasn’t always as well-mannered around other people as he was around you and his friends. He was like that for good reason—there were some things in one’s past that shaped who you would become, and unfortunately, that was one thing that you hadn’t been able to protect him from back then. So hearing something like this? You felt awful.

You finally gave Jihoon a nod. “Right, yeah… thanks Jihoon. Really.”

He nodded back. “Of course. Does that happen often?”

You rubbed the place between your eyes where an ache had formed. “No—I mean, he’s just got a front he puts on, but it’s not often. Maybe those girls just witnessed him on one of his bad days. He—” You shook your head.

“I get it; no need to explain it to me,” Jihoon murmured. He gently guided you toward the door out into the main auditorium where Hyunjae said he’d be waiting for you. “He’s a good kid.”

“I know. He’s great.” I love him.

When the two of you emerged into the darkened auditorium, the only light present was the one from Hyunjae’s phone. Your best friend glanced up from his screen, pocketing it away as he stood up to meet you. “Hey, everything okay?”

You and Jihoon exchanged glances. You met Hyunjae’s eyes, your smile small. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

EPISODE THREE: WE’RE ALL JUST TRYING TO KEEP THE STAGE LIGHTS ON

IT was Monday evening when you determined that you had reached the point in time where everything would only escalate from here. There was something about seeing the backstage crowded with techies that made everything seem ten times more real. Your day had begun an hour or two earlier than the actors’ as you came in to meet Jihoon and Bang Chan about set pieces and creative direction. When your actors had come in, rehearsal commenced by working through the first act of the script and creating a deeper understanding of motivations and purpose.

On Saturday, along with the chemistry explorations, there was also a moment where you had to sit everyone down and give them a better understanding of what this project even came from. (There was a real inspiration to the story, but there was no way you could expose yourself like that, especially in front of Hyunjae.) There had been yet another run through of the script, with some of your actors switching up the way they played their parts just slightly. That same experimentation would continue today.

You were in the box with Chan and a couple of his underclassmen peers as the few of you were discussing the matter of spotlights and the like. It was early in the rehearsal process, but it definitely killed to be early.

You heard a slight commotion as the doors at the back of the auditorium opened.

“You got it covered in here?” You asked Chan, already one foot out of the tech box.

Chan flashed you a dimpled smile and a thumb’s up, and you were on your way out and toward the sounds of newcomers. You could already make out the figures of your friends Park Jihyo and Wen Junhui from where you were running up to them.

“YN!” Jihyo squealed as she rushed to come bury you in a hug.

“Oh my god, thanks for coming, you guys,” you gushed, crushing yourself to her.

Jun scurried over, wrapping his limbs around the two of you, as well. The two of them had quite literally insisted on coming to this rehearsal as your sanity check, which you deeply appreciated. Well that, and the fact that Jihyo was helping you manage the finances for this project, as well as any sponsors who came through to support the play. You had never been good with that stuff, but luckily, your econ-business-major friend was. (Jun was always there for moral support; him being versed in acting also helped, too, with directing when you couldn’t.)

The three of you immediately got to work, and you were finally able to return to your own actors as the lot of you worked through the first couple of scenes of act one.

“What do you suggest we talk about?” Eunwoo asked from stage left where he and Younghoon lingered with their scripts in hand. They were standing opposite the stage from Miyeon and Sana, who were supposed to walk onto the stage from the right like walking into a restaurant. The main focus of the scene was supposed to be Miyeon and Sana, but because Younghoon and Eunwoo were still onstage, they had to act like they were actually doing something even if their microphones wouldn’t be activated.

Younghoon gave a shrug and an easygoing smile. “What do you think Kai and Ryan talk about?”

“Kai feels like the kind of pompous jerk who speaks only in Ralph Waldo Emerson and Sylvia Plath.”

“That could be an interesting dynamic,” Jun chimed in.

You lifted a shoulder in agreement. “I say ‘yes’. Let’s just see what this looks like—Eunwoo, play that; Younghoon, play the exact opposite.”

Younghoon sputtered a laugh, but he saluted, understanding your directions (somehow… it was probably because you had worked with him for a long time over the course of both of your academic careers). “Aye-aye.”

You made a waving motion toward stage right where Miyeon and Sana were poking their heads out from behind the curtains. “Ready? Action.”

It turned out that the overly smart version of Kai was not what the scene needed. After a couple of new directions to Eunwoo about this little thing, you eventually settled on a nice in-between that reminded you awfully of a certain someone…

Lo and behold, you heard the doors at the back of the auditorium open up once more. You didn’t turn your attention away from the scene playing out before you, but you had an inkling of who had entered the sphere of the dramatic.

It wasn’t until the brunch scene had finished, you pursed your lips, nodding. “I like that.”

“I like it, too,” Jihyo said, paired with a nod from Jun.

You flipped through your script, asking for the actors taking part in the next scene—the bar scene—to come to the stage. “Uhm, let’s see… I need all of the main cast, barring Kai and Alex, to the stage. I also need Bartender 1 to come out, as well.” You waved your hand around toward the middle of the stage. “Make a little cult circle or something—yes, Younghoon, you have to stand next to Miyeon, silly goose.”

It was now that you finally turned around to confirm your prediction of who had joined the crowd. Just a few rows up from where you and your friends were sat three eager faces. Presently, it was Hyunjae, Eric, and his girlfriend, the former of which greeted you by raising up what looked like an iced caramel macchiato. God bless.

You hustled up to where they were, making grabby hands at the frost drink. “Thank you,” you sighed, accepting the drink and straw from him.

“Aye! Hyunjae!” Younghoon hollered from the stage. “Where’s my drink?”

Hyunjae cupped his hands around his mouth. “The kid has it!”

“I’m not a kid,” Eric sulked as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest while also not spilling the iced americano he was in possession of.

“That’s right!” EC!Yn mused, then added, “You’re my baby.”

Hyunjae wrinkled his nose at the lovey-dovey young lovers. “Oh, now that was awful, EC!Yn,” he groaned. He nudged your elbow from where you stood next to his seat. “Wasn’t that gross?”

Your brain was filled with caramel and caffeine. “Leave them be, Jae. At least they have someone to be gross with.”

Hyunjae mocked a face of offense, and Eric and his girlfriend slipped past you two in youthful giggles to go deliver Younghoon’s drink to him down at the bottom stage. When the two of you were left alone, Hyunjae pressed his cheek against his fist as he peered up at you. “How’s today been so far?”

You finished your sip, swallowing down the sugary, caffeinated goodness. “It’s been alright so far. I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Well,” he sighed, “I knew you were probably going hours without water, so I thought I’d at least bring you something pleasant.”

You sat down on the floor beside his aisle seat, silently offering him a sip of the drink he had treated you to. “You know me too well. And what do you mean? You did bring me something pleasant.”

Hyunjae took a ginger sip of the drink then pushed the cup back toward you. He grinned, flipping a lock of imaginary hair behind his shoulder. “Ah, you mean me—”

“I meant the kids,” you teased as you smiled around your straw with a look that was hardly innocent.

He deadpanned at you. “Never letting my head stay in the clouds ever, huh, Miss Ln?”

“Someone has to keep you humble.”

A soft laugh fell from his lips as he shook his head, then pressed his lips to his knuckles. “Well I guess if it's gotta be anybody, it should be you. Then again, that Chanhee keeps me on my toes, too."

"Weren't you the one who said he had no ass first?"

He let out a snort. "I only speak the truth."

"That you do," you agreed.

Hyunjae flicked his phone screen on for a second to catch the time and grunted. "Ugh, I have to go meet with my group members for a project in Public Infrastructure."

Your lips curled downward. "It's literally the first day of the quarter—you have a project already?"

He huffed sharply out of his mouth, sending one of his longer bits of bangs flying upward. "That's what I'm saying. Professor is insane this quarter, especially for putting me in this group. He said he picked our groups for us because we 'don't always get to choose in the real world'." He made a face. "Somebody has hurt that man, and we are paying for it. Pretty sure the people in my group don't even like me."

Your chest ached at that, and you leaned your chin onto his arm rest while he settled his head against the back of his chair. "I'm sorry, Jae. I know group projects are hard with strangers, but maybe they'll be cool with you? Are you just a little anxious maybe?"

"Dunno," he mumbled, picking at a stray thread on the red seat. He raked a hand through his hair, shifting. "I'm just dreading it, I guess. I just have that feeling y'know?"

"Yeah, I get that." You bumped your hand against his, mustering up an encouraging smile. "You're gonna be okay, Jae. I believe in you."

Hyunjae collected himself enough to smile back. "I can always count on you, Yn."

"Of course," you said, as easy as breathing air. You exhaled, "What are best friends for?"

— ✶

You found yourself seated in the darkness of the auditorium seats, the ghost light of the stage your only company. The ghost light was a single bulb that hung from mid stage in order to prevent any mishaps or accidents from happening when one had to stumble about in the darkness of the theater. It was a single part of theater superstition, as well as a sign that Jihoon and Chan had gone on their way for the night, leaving you to lock up. You'd been given charge of empty theaters before, and frankly, the peace and quiet was something you needed.

The time was nearing nine o'clock though, and your stomach growled at the thought of going back to your warm townhouse shelter for some pity ramen.

You finally shut the lid of your laptop, slipping it into your bag so you could stretch your aching limbs. You popped a couple joints as you did, then reached for your drained cup of iced caramel macchiato.

The rest of rehearsal had gone reasonably well. You were making progress, and that was the important part. Eric and his girlfriend had left a little before Hyunjae had in order to go get dinner together. Hyunjae had understandably been reluctant to leave, but he basically convinced you to let him call you while he made his way over to his project meet up location. You were directing as he did, but he didn't seem to mind and listened quietly with the occasional humorous comment.

You hoped he was doing okay.

Just as you slung your bag over your shoulder, typing out a fast text to Hyunjae to ask about how it went, your ears picked up the faint sound of creaking wood.

You froze, your head whipping around the very empty theater for the sound.

You heard it again—it was the slow, haunting creeeak, like someone was taking a deliberately drawn-out step. The hand around your phone tightened as you turned your gaze to the stage. The ghost light hung eerily in the now-quiet hall, its amber light creating a circle of light beneath it like a beacon for creatures of the night.

Creeeak… creeeak…

"Jihoon?" You called out. "Chan? Is that you?"

The creaking stopped; a shiver crawled down your spine.

"Is someone there?"

When you were met with silence, you pressed a hand to your forehead, speed-walking up the aisle of the theater and out into the lobby. Swiftly locking all the doors behind you as you made your exit, you figured you were probably just hearing things.

As you deposited your empty cup into the trash bin just outside the theater doors, you received a reply from Hyunjae. The performance hall door thunked closed after you twisted the lock mechanism into place.

With no more than a glance at the dark windows, you turned on your heel and made a beeline for the bus stop.

EPISODE FOUR: IT'S ALWAYS THE DARK AND STORMY NIGHTS

FRIDAY night brought an onslaught of the sky's wrath in the form of a storm. Rehearsal had progressed decently, and while you did appreciate how hard everyone was working, you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t rush the process if you wanted a phenomenal end product. You just needed to have faith in the people you were working with.

Nearly everyone had gone home by now, barring yourself, Jihoon, Chan, and a couple of undergrads they were keeping around to show them the ropes. You were in the backstage area packing up your things to head out for the night. You could hear the voices of your peers echoing slightly through the bowels of the theater, but none of them were too near to your location.

The hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stood up as you reached for a page of script cues that one of the techies had left behind on a stool.

You straightened, your eyes scanning the backstage area. All the lights were on tonight since Jihoon and Chan were still here. The ghost light was not your only companion tonight, and yet…

There had been a feeling creeping up on you this past week… something unsettling like you were being watched. Perhaps it wasn’t you specifically being watched—it was more so that you were never truly alone when you knew no one else was here with you. There was something bothering you about the shadows of the theater lately, and they had almost never been anything but comforting.

You had to visibly suppress your soul from jumping out of your skin when you heard that goddamn wooden creaking sound.

“Yn-ie?”

Your heart did about five cartwheels and a barrel leap as you whirled around to find Chan coming in from the other side of the curtain. He noticed your jumpiness and concern fell over his features. “Hey, you good?”

You usually weren’t so much of a scaredy cat, dear god. You let out a laugh, though it sounded more nervous than you liked. “Yeah—no, yeah, I’m fine. Just a little antsy, is all.” Yeah, that’s it. You slung the strap of your bag over your shoulder and walked over to Chan to bump fists with him in greeting. “You and the others wrapping up?”

Chan’s eyes swept over you and his mouth quirked into an expression that told you he didn’t believe your “I’m fine” bit at all. But he was never one to pry where he believed to be crossing a line. “Not really, actually,” he sighed, cupping the back of his neck above the headset hanging there, as the two of you moved back into the main auditorium together. “We just realized that some of the speakers have been left on for the past week. They seem to keep coming on even though we turn them off; just outdated tech, I guess. But we’re trying to see if we can fix them before considering getting new ones.”

The hammering in your heart subsided for a moment as your brows pinched together and your brain switched into work-mode. “Really? Okay, well, let me know if I can do anything to help—that is weird.”

You eventually said goodnight to everyone left in the performing arts hall as you let yourself out through the front doors. The rain seemed to have subsided from earlier, and the night was left with dark cumulus clouds looming above your head, and rain-soaked streets that smelled heavily of metal and petrichor. A cold, biting wind swept past your face and nipped at your extremities as you pulled your jacket around you tighter.

The walk to the bus stop wasn’t an awfully long one, but…

You stopped.

You swore you just heard a clattering sound from just behind you. Your attention went to a collection of trash cans sitting only a few meters behind you. When no animal revealed itself to be the source of the noise, you clutched your small canister of mace into your fist.

A tingling sensation crawled down your spine, and you turned on your heel to start walking faster toward the bus stop.

There weren’t many street lights posted in this area of campus, but if you could just get—

“YN!”

You nearly screamed when someone grabbed you by the shoulder, and you lifted the can of mace up in between you and the person.

“Shit, Yn. It’s just me!” Hyunjae slapped his palm over yours and shoved the nozzle of the mace can down and out of his vision. He wrestled your body to a stop, anchoring you to reality. “Holy shit, honey. Shhh, calm down. It’s just me.”

You furiously inhaled and exhaled, your chest rising and falling as you pressed a hand to your sternum. “Lee Hyunjae, what is wrong with you?” You growled. Had it been him this whole time?

Hyunjae dared a cheeky smile. “Well, I just saw you from down the street and I thought you saw me, but you kept walking. I guessed you were just in your head tonight, so I thought it’d be fun to surprise you.”

“You don’t grab a girl in the middle of a darkened, abandoned street and yell in her ear to surprise her.” Your eyes were hard as you reprimanded him; he was your best friend, yes, but you nearly had a heart attack right then. Your nerves were so on-edge that you just couldn’t joke with him at this moment.

He winced then. “Ah, when you put it like that…” He pressed his lips together, eyes taking in your tense form. There was something else in your face other than annoyance at his stupidity—something that troubled him. His voice grew soft, his touch even softer, as his hand cupped the back of your shoulder in a warm hold. “Hey, everything okay? I’m really sorry for doing that; it was stupid of me.”

You huffed a sigh and avoided his eyes. “This isn’t the first time I thought someone was watching me,” you confessed lowly, so not even the wind could hear you.

Hyunjae’s eyes widened when you said that, and he was swift to wrap an arm around your shoulders and gather you against him. His gaze surveyed your surroundings and the shadows seemed to dance in his view; his breath hitched. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured then, “I’m parked nearby.”

EPISODE FIVE: THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

THE next day, Jihyo, Jun, Jacob, and Kevin were seated deep into the nosebleeds within the dim areas of the theater. Straight ahead, you and Hyunjae stood in the first few rows of seats as the actors were doing a run-through of the first act of the play. Hyunjae simply sat in the seat next to you, but you were doing your director thing. It wasn’t out of the ordinary at all to see you two so close, but something had shifted overnight from the last time all of them had seen you and he interact.

“Remind me again why you guys are here so early?” Jihyo’s question was directed toward Jacob and Kevin as she sipped on her morning cup of coffee. Everyone in the row was armed with their own cup of caffeinated brew, too; that was simply what being awake at nine on a Saturday morning called for.

Kevin peered at the other two from around Jacob. “His girlfriend and Chanhee are grocery shopping.”

Jun snorted. “Are they roommates? Why’s Chanhee grocery shopping with JC!Yn? Sounds a bit random.”

“They’re with her roommate and Changmin, too,” Jacob replied with a joking roll of his eyes. “Kevin’s just petty that they’ve never thought to extend the invitation to us.”

“Hey! You always hint at wanting to join them, too. It’s not just me, good sir.”

“I asked once, and when she said no, I never asked again—”

“—he’d only say that because he’s been scorned by love,” Younghoon lamented from the stage, his arm braced along the back of Miyeon’s folding chair. Props were still being finalized between a couple options, but Jun had found a bunch of folding chairs in a closet that you could use for the bar scene. Everyone’s attention moved away from invitation-less friends to friends playing pretend. He made a dramatic gesture, clutching his heart, then straightening with a laugh as he teased his friend who wasn’t in the scene. “I still think it’s stupid that he and Alex never worked out.”

Eunbi’s eyebrows flew up to her hairline as her hand, holding a water bottle that would later be replaced with a drink glass, froze in mid-air. “I’m sorry? This is news to me. Since when did Kai and Alex even have a chance at ‘working out’?”

Miyeon let out a delighted gasp. “Oh, where to begin?”

Yerin piped in with a lazier gesture with her water bottle. “They weren’t always sworn enemies, y'know. Once upon a time, the ‘lovebirds’ were actually lovebirds,” she chuckled at her own joke—or, her character’s joke.

Younghoon explained, "Their parents pretty much pitted them against each other since the end of middle school. They used to be friends, actually, and they were top of their class in practically everything. Except…"

"Academic League?" Eunbi guessed with her brows twisted. "I remember hearing about something like that."

"Yeah, I mean," Miyeon added, "something happened in junior year and it's been like that since."

"What happened in junior year?—"

Jihyo watched the performance with narrowed eyes, her body leaned forward onto her knees. "This sounds awfully familiar."

The three boys turned their heads her way. "What do you mean?"

She shook her head, eyes fluttering. She made a face and cocked her head to the side in thought. "Okay, maybe it's not exactly like what I'm… Jun, you remember when Yn told us about—you know?"

"That she almost confessed to Hyunjae? Ow! I'm sorry!" Jun yelped as Jihyo slapped his shoulder, hard.

Jacob and Kevin exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She almost confessed to Hyunjae? When?"

Jihyo sent Jun another hard glare, to which he sheepishly raised his hands in surrender, before replying, "Yn said offhandedly once that in junior year of high school, she was almost going to confess her feelings to Hyunjae, but then suddenly decided not to."

Kevin leaned his chin onto his fist. "Huh…"

"I don't know how I didn't even notice this before when I read through the script," Jihyo thought aloud. "Alex and Kai are Yn and Hyunjae—just…with a different ending."

All four heads turned to face forward once more, except, their attention zeroed in on you and Hyunjae. YH!Yn had appeared beside you, most likely updating you on the progress of the massive prop project she was working on for the play. You listened to her report intently as Hyunjae sat next to you, his head leaned onto your shoulder as he played some game on his phone. It was far too soft, far too—there was no way you based this all off of your own experience with Hyunjae, right?

In fact, it was possible.

As YH!Yn let you know that she would have to buy a few more PVC pipes from the hardware store, you assured her that she would be reimbursed for those expenses.

“—I know how busy you are—”

YH!Yn smiled sweetly as she cut you off, “Oh, no worries at all! I’m happy to help, as Hoon said before. Plus, this is a lot more fun than my internship; feels like a little creative project I get to nerd out on.”

You grinned at that sentiment. “Ah, I totally get that. Well, I won’t keep you from it any longer. Thanks again.”

YH!Yn gave a brief goodbye, then stood up to head back out to the backstage area where she was putting together the portable fountain she was building (you had given her a list of possible “show-stopping” prop ideas you had and she had picked the fountain). As she left, you watched as she passed by the bottom stage to catch Younghoon’s hand. Something like yearning ached in your chest. One day…

The mass weighing on your opposite shoulder stirred as he let out a noise of surprise. “Huh?”

You glanced over at him as best you could, then flashed Younghoon a thumb’s up to signal him that you were paying attention now. “Huh what?”

Hyunjae sat up straight, his nose scrunched, eyes pinned to his phone screen. “Didn’t you have a friend named Ellie in like, high school?”

Your lips curled into a slight frown at the name; it definitely rang a bell. “I did, what about her?” You asked. The sounds of the dialogue happening on stage faded to glorified background noise as you leaned over to peer at Hyunjae’s phone screen. There, he had a new text thread pulled up with an unknown number introducing herself as Ellie, a “classmate of his from high school”. Not only were you frowning, but your forehead creased, too. It had been ages since you had last been in contact with her. The two of you had been the best of friends before you drifted apart.

To be honest, you had no idea how the two of you drifted apart so easily when you’d been so close to her, but you ended up getting closer to Hyunjae anyway. You chalked it up to differences in interests, but maybe now you could get some answers. Well, that was depending on why she was texting Hyunjae.

“She texted me,” he said, holding the screen between you two. “Recognize the number?”

You could barely remember your own number. Shaking your head, you lifted your gaze back up to the stage where your actors had already moved through most of the scene. “Nope. Might be a new one since it’s been so long. Wonder how she got your phone number.”

Hyunjae blew out a puff of air as he laughed—you saw him begin to type out a response from the corner of your eye. “How do people not get my number at this point,” he grumbled under his breath.

— ✶

It wasn’t until you were seated in the booth of Junhui’s favorite Chinese restaurant on the Ave that he and Jihyo ambushed you with The Question™.

“So when were you going to tell us that the play was about you and Hyunjae?”

Your movements paused, then resumed so you could properly settle into your seat. "At least let me order first."

To their credit, your friends withheld from further questioning until the waiter had come by to take the table's order. When she had gone and was out of earshot, Jihyo pounced, whipping her head over to you and placing a hand on the table between you. You realized suddenly that you were trapped between her and the wall.

"Spill."

Your eyes widened a smidge, intimidated. "How did you guys figure it out? I mean, it's not that obvious, is it?"

Jun shook his head. "Nah, not really. Ji was just on five shots of espresso this morning apparently."

Jihyo sent him a pointed look. "I was not on five shots of espresso…" She murmured, "It was two."

"Okay, five shots, two shots—" Jihyo flapped her hands around as she angled her body toward you. "It was the bar scene and they were all talking about Alex and Kai. And I thought that the bit about junior year sounded really familiar."

"I can't believe you didn't confess to him back then," Jun feigned a disproving shake of his head while clicking his tongue.

You leaned your face against the palm of your hand with an unpretty fwump. "Guys, the play is basically centered around the idea: what if I had confessed to Hyunjae and it went wrong?"

"Just ten times more dramatic," Jun pointed out.

"And," Jihyo added, "their roles are switched. Kai's the one who confesses to Alex in the play, and it's Alex's ex who makes a grand showing at the wedding festivities to cause trouble. Yn doesn't have an ex."

"Uncalled for," you grunted.

Jihyo gave a charmingly beautiful smile that could make all the world fall at her feet. "You love me."

"You're lucky you're cute."

Jun sipped on his water. "I'm right here."

You and Jihyo bursted into giggles, the sound like twinkling bells. Jun sighed softly, but you saw the corners of his lips lift up into a small smile. For a moment, you had forgotten what the topic of this conversation was.

You sobered slightly, your hands reaching for your water glass to take a gulp, then nurse it between your palms. "Have you ever heard the saying that we always try to recreate our first heartbreak in order to rewrite how it ends?"

Jihyo and Jun quieted. They peered at you with eyes that could peer straight into your soul if you let them. That was why you couldn't exactly meet their eyes as you tried to articulate your thoughts behind writing this whole mess. "I mean," you pursed your lips, "it wasn't a heartbreak; it was never a heartbreak. My heart hadn't been broken because how could it be broken if I never even let it. You know?"

"That's not how a lot of hearts are broken, Yn," Jun murmured with a sincere depth to his dark brown eyes. There was something so soulful about them. "Most are broken in silence."

You huffed slightly. "That was a great line."

"I know—"

"Ahem," Jihyo said, reigning the both of you drama geeks back into the realm of real talk. She leaned over to wrap her arms around you, her head resting on top of your own. "So you wrote this… to conquer your fears? To comprehend your feelings?"

"To imagine, to wish, to dream," you added. It was quite sad, really. You couldn't quite think of writing anything else when the time had come to start drafting your thesis. "We write what we know best."

"I thought Hyunjae was basically there throughout this whole process," Jun said, his elbows resting on top of the table as he gestured vaguely. "How has he not figured out that Alex is him?"

You gave a shrug. You couldn't imagine how he hadn't yet figured it out, but it wasn't exactly the most obvious thing. You would soon rather go missing than Hyunjae ever figuring out the truth behind the play's inspiration. Whenever he asked you, it was always "I was so inspired by Kenneth Branuagh and Emma Thompson's rendition of the play" and "I wanted to spice up an old, timeless play and give it a kick of Today". He believed that you were writing a play based solely upon the themes of childhood manipulation, academic pressure, and miscommunication. And you were—just not only those things.

Your thesis would have never been accepted if you'd only presented a skeleton of a play about your nonexistent love life. All of the additions and embellishments to the story had come easy as you pieced together the plotline. But the two main characters had never changed.

With that now settled, the food arrived at your table. (What a brilliantly timed, cosmic coincidence!) You and your friends thought it best to move onto other topics of conversation. Somehow, you had reached the topic of your recent week of weird feelings. Not just about Hyunjae, but about the strange feeling of constantly not being alone. You'd even explained the entire debacle from last night, with Hyunjae scaring you then rushing you home.

Jihyo and Jun both replied appropriately: "Girl, what the fuck?"

You brushed it off with a nonchalance that was not convincing. (Then again, you were never an actress yourself.)

The rest of dinner progressed relatively smoothly, and when the check had come and gone, you wanted to offer a mint to your friends.

"—shit," you swore as you dug around in your bag. When your hand came up empty-handed, you brushed that same hand through your hair. "I left my Altoids in the theater."

Jihyo finished signing her bill, tucking her card away. "Oh? Well, let's go get them."

Jun bobbed his head as he shouldered his coat on. "Yeah, it's no problem, Yn-ie."

"Really? You guys don't have to; they're just min—"

"Nonsense!" Jihyo chirped. She stood up and out of the booth, giving you the space to slip out after her. She then linked your arm with hers, then hooked her other with Jun's. "Power in numbers, my love."

You could do nothing but agree—wholeheartedly. The way your heart rate slowed when she insisted that she and Jun would accompany you showed just how grateful you were. You probably wouldn't have even gone to retrieve them tonight, but waited until Monday instead. They were just mints, after all, but you were appreciative nonetheless. Even for a small item, they would be by your side.

The journey back to the theater was a brief one as Jun drove the three of you back to the performing arts center and pulled into the space right by the stairs up to the hall. You recalled leaving them on one of the dressing room tables in the back corridors, so you used your student ID to buzz into the back hallway of the performing arts building.

You and your friends' voices hushed as you all crept into the dark, abandoned building. When the door closed behind you all, you turned your phone flashlight on to guide your way toward the dressing rooms.

"It should be in one of these rooms," you told your friends as you entered the hallway of doors. You located a familiar number and pushed into the room, swiftly retrieving the teal-colored metal box of minty sweets on the vanity table.

The door closed softly when you slipped out.

"Hey, how's YH!Yn's fountain project coming along?" Jun asked as the three of you began to make your way back toward the back door.

"Oh yeah!" Jihyo perked up. "How's that going? She's so badass for that."

"Isn't she?" You gushed. "Do you guys wanna see her progress?"

There was an obvious answer to that, and the three of you made a hard one hundred eighty degree turn, swerving back down the corridor from which you had just come from. Your conspiratorial giggles echoed within the rafters and bowels of the theater, as if you were pixies from A Midsummer Night's Dream, frolicking through the forest in which they dwelled.

When you reached the vicinity of the backstage area, your footsteps faltered.

It was still dark.

You frowned, slowly stepping into the backstage area.

"Yn? What's wrong?"

Jun said it before you could, "Huh. The ghost light's not on."

Indeed, the bulb that was supposed to be on when no light was, was pitch black. A cool breeze drifted down your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck and your arms stand up.

"Could Jihoon or Chan have forgotten on their way out?"

"You know Jihoon's not one to forget."

You drifted away from your friends as you slowly stepped into the backstage area. Your flashlight shone toward the walls first as you aimed to make your way toward the lights panel. It would be an easy fix—

Your heart dropped clean into the pit of your stomach.

The light of your flashlight illuminated the absolute chaos.

Setting and backdrop pieces that had been painted by volunteers, articles of clothing collected for people's costumes, scripts left behind torn out of their staples—all of it was flung about and scattered over the backstage floor. It was like a tornado had swept through the area, and you knew your friends were seeing what you were seeing now.

You held your breath for so long you were pretty sure you were imagining the hands shaking you.

Somebody had come in and took their rage out on your play. But who, and more importantly, why?

EPISODE SIX: PHANTOM OF THE PERFORMING ARTS HALL

"WHAT'S up with the ghost light anyway?"

There was a group of you gathered by the stage of the performing arts hall, the house lights having been turned on after you'd made a call to Jihoon and campus security. Along with Jihoon and campus security, however, Hyunjae, Juyeon, Eric, and Younghoon had also appeared. You had shot Hyunjae a text about what had happened and he'd rushed over with his friends—you felt awful about pulling them away from whatever they were doing, but Hyunjae didn't say anything about it.

You sat on the edge of the stage next to Jihyo with Jun and Hyunjae standing by you both on the floor of the auditorium. Well, Hyunjae stood in front of you and you leaned your chin on top of his beanie-covered head while the lot of you waited for whatever security pulled up from the limited amount of cameras. Jihoon had disappeared somewhere to make a call—you would hear from him, too, soon.

The question had been posed by Juyeon, who sat next to Eric and Younghoon in the first row of nosebleeds.

Jun dragged a hand down the side of his face, then rubbed his mouth. "Ah, it's uhm, old theater superstition," he replied. "Usually, backstage crew leaves the ghost light on so anybody coming in doesn't trip on anything or accidentally get hurt or, y'know—break anything."

"It couldn't have just gone out because of the power then?" Hyunjae asked.

Younghoon shook his head. "Usually it runs on the same electricity that every other light runs on. I've never been in a theater where the ghost light just randomly goes out, and there weren't any power outages today either."

"The problem isn't even about the ghost light," you said. Everyone's eyes flickered over to you and Hyunjae. Hyunjae patted one of the legs you had on either side of his upper body as a means of consolation or comfort. "It's about the props and costumes. We're just lucky that they were just scattered and not properly damaged. We would've been set back another week at least."

Eric perked up. "Maybe it's the ghost of Shakespeare haunting the hall!"

A snort fell from your lips as you mused, "Shakespeare in the park?"

Hyunjae cleared his throat as he prepared his best rendition of the Iron Man line: "Doth mother know you weareth her drapes?"

As the two of you shared a giggle and fistbump, the other remaining members of your party sent you strange, confused looks.

Younghoon gave an eye roll. "Oh dear god, you two really are meant for each other."

You caught Jun and Jihyo whip their heads toward you, but before anything else could be said, Jihoon was hustling back into the auditorium from the lobby doors in the back. He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he jogged over to where all of you were gathered, those signature bags under his eyes prominently featured. Oh, you definitely felt terrible.

"What'd they say, Jihoon?" Jihyo asked first.

Jihoon tucked his hands into his pockets as he joined the loose cult circle. "Security found that the locks on the front of the hall were picked open, so they wouldn't have gotten a record of somebody's card being used. Cams picked up someone dressed in black, but they knew where the camera would have gotten a clear shot of them. But because there wasn't anything officially damaged, there isn't much legal action we can take."

Juyeon offered quietly, "Breaking and entering."

Jihoon gestured to him. "Right. Breaking and entering, but that's about it." He pinched the bridge of his nose between his eyes. "It wasn't just a prank or whatever. At least, I don't think so. What do you think, Yn?"

You swallowed, straightening slightly. "I don't think so either. I mean, I don't think any drunk pranksters would go through the trouble of picking open a lock. Even a sober one."

"Maybe a spiteful classmate," Jun suggested with a meager shrug. "Some people are ruthless."

"If there isn't much we can do, or much security is willing to do," you muttered, "then we should call it a night. We just have to take pains to lock everything up every rehearsal now."

Jihoon nodded sharply. "Right. Pains, but necessary ones."

"I'm sorry this happened to you," Eric frowned. A murmur of agreement echoed from everyone else in the group.

You pursed your lips. "It's okay, I—it's not okay, obviously, but I'm glad no one's hard work was properly destroyed. That's all that matters." Even if your nerves were a little shaken. Who could have done this?

The remainder of your time spent in the theater was picking everything up and putting them in their rightful places. By the time the group of you had finished locking everything up, the night had slipped away into its proper depths. Everyone was ready to get the hell out of here and go home to their beds, and Jihoon was certain to show you the ghost light being turned and sustaining for at least a couple minutes before the two of you were the last out.

Juyeon, Eric, Younghoon, and Jihoon said their goodnights and goodbyes, already departing their separate ways to go home. You lifted your head up to find where Jihyo and Jun were waiting for you when you saw Hyunjae standing closer to the entryway of the hall. He gave you a sleepy smile, opening up his arms for you to walk right into.

"Tired?" He chuckled, the sound creating a soft vibration in his chest as you shoved your face into his pretty-smelling sweater.

"Mm," you grunted. "You didn't go home with Younghoon?"

"Nah. I wanna go home with you."

In any other context, in any other situation, that would have meant something completely different. You swallowed, wrapping your arms around his frame. With a nod, you screwed your eyes shut and swept away those wistful thoughts. "Okay, fine."

You didn't know why you kept doing this to yourself. But he was your best friend, and tonight was… a lot. A friendly sleepover was something you needed—at least, that was what you were telling yourself.

— ✶

Being the oh-so courteous guest he was (especially since he practically invited himself over), Hyunjae let you take the shower first. You shared a townhouse a bus ride away from the university campus with two others whom you knew from rooming with them your first year of college. You had lucked out with the random roommate assignments that year, and the three of you weren't the closest nor best of friends, but you found great housemates in each other, which was just as valuable.

You had your own room and ensuite up on the topmost floor, so you and Hyunjae had a bit of privacy and wouldn't bother your friends below. You had finished with your shower a bit ago, so you were settled on your bed, flipping through emails and ensuring no important ones had ended up in the spam folder.

When you heard the door open from the bathroom, you glanced up, but returned your gaze back to this one email about a sponsorship that needed to be added to the playbill later.

"I accidentally grabbed the wrong shirt."

You hummed in question as you quickly forwarded the email to Jihyo, then looked up. A laugh sputtered out of your mouth as you took in Hyunjae taking up the space of your doorway. He was in a pair of his own sweatpants that he often left here, but instead of one of his t-shirts, he must have accidentally grabbed one of your tops. It was a Hello Kitty one you'd found in the back of your closet awhile ago, and fit you pretty nicely, so it looked strained on Hyunjae.

You flopped onto the bed, rolling around in your own laughter. "Jae!—your tits don't fit in that, honey."

Hyunjae's mouth stretched into a grin, his tongue darting out for a second. His dirty blond hair, damp and curly, hung slightly in his eyes over his forehead. "Oh, shut up."

To your detriment (you deserved this, you really did), he then smiled (more like, smirked) as he casually lifted the top over his head.

Your eyes widened just as your entire body lit up on fire. "Hey, woah there! Dude!" You jokingly covered your eyes—your whole face—with your hands as he flicked the shirt off, straightened it out, then stalked over to your closet to swap tops.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes as he ripped another shirt from a hanger and came to take a seat on the edge of the bed. "You've seen me shirtless before, Yn. Calm down."

No. How could you just calm down—? It was nearly impossible when you saw the way the muscles in his back rippled as he yanked the new, white T-shirt over his head. With muted sadness, you watched as the toned muscle on his stomach disappeared beneath the fabric.

Damn.

"You're drooling."

Your eyes darted up to where he was grinning down at his phone screen now, only looking at you from his periphery where you were still lying on the bed.

You huffed, rising onto your knees and hoping your embarrassment wasn't plain as day. But you subtly swiped your thumb across your lower lip to make sure you weren't actually drooling. This is your best friend, Yn; control yourself. "Loser."

"Child."

"Chicken."

"Weirdo."

"Nerd!" You shot back, making him laugh as you draped yourself over his back and tucked his head under your chin. His wet, cold hair tickled your skin, but it was a welcome sensation.

You peered down at his phone with him from your perch. "Who's that?" You asked as he opened up a new text notification from a new number.

You were scanning the message the sender had texted while Hyunjae huffed. "Another of your suitors, milady," he drawled sarcastically.

The message said something like "would she be interested?", the "she" referring to you.

Hyunjae typed out: In you? Probably not.

You let out a gasp, hitting him playfully on the (muscle of his) shoulder. "Hyunjae!"

He snickered, exiting out of the text chain, then deleting the number. "What? I'm just being honest. I feel like every dude who's interested in you goes through me to ask and it's so lame."

You absentmindedly watched as he opened up Instagram and started brainlessly doom-scrolling. "Maybe it's 'cause you've so clearly friendzoned me," you muttered incoherently under your breath.

"Huh? What was that?"

"Maybe it's 'cause they see you as the gatekeeper," you amended, leaving him to climb off your bed and step into the bathroom to prepare your toothbrush for use.

You could hear the incredulity in his voice. "Gatekeeper? Pfft, no way. They're all just cowards; they don't deserve you if they can't ask you out to your face." After a second, he added, "Hey, I don't gatekeep you!"

You made a face at yourself in the mirror as you brushed your teeth. "Uh-huh."

"That's not reassuring, Yn-ie."

You poked your head out of the bathroom and made eye contact with where he had rearranged his position so he sat up against the headboard. "I was just agreeing with you," you teased, then retreated back into the bathroom to finish up your night routine.

"No, you weren't, you menace."

You flicked the lights in the bathroom and bedroom off and rolled onto the bed next to him. The two of you laid facing each other in the dark, your bodies kept to your own sides of the bed and blanket. You both were propped onto your sides, one arm tucked beneath your head.

"I don't gatekeep you," he said into the silence, his voice lowering to match the volume of darkness. He poked your cheek with a finger, as if he could stamp the declaration there.

You gave a small smile. "Okay, Jae." A thought suddenly occurred to you as you broke your stare-down to twist around and grab your phone from the nightstand to see if Jihyo and Jun had said something to the group chat. "Oh, by the way, did you ever figure out what Ellie wanted?"

Hyunjae shifted so he was on his back now, one hand still braced behind his head and the other resting on his stomach—but his eyes still watched you. "Something about a random high school project from senior year. She couldn't find the file for it and wanted to draw inspiration from it or something."

"I didn't know you had a project with her in senior year," you said offhandedly, shutting your phone off and replacing it onto the nightstand. You sighed, slipping further beneath the covers and closer to Hyunjae.

He drew you close, tucking you beneath his chin this time. "Yeah, it wasn't really important. Nothing to worry about."

"I wasn't worrying."

You could already feel yourself drifting off into dreamland, the exhaustion in your eyes making your eyelids close like valance curtains at the very front, lowering to mask the backstage magic from the audience. Except, the magic were your thoughts rocketing into the realm of the fictional. For a split second, you thought about somebody being in your position with your best friend one day. Would it hurt to think about then as much as it did now?

You couldn't exactly think about that future right now. Hyunjae, you liked to think, was far from letting anyone new into his carefully-maintained walls. He had been hurt by people before, and you'd be damned if you didn't protect him from that ever happening again.

You thought Hyunjae had fallen asleep until you felt his thumb brush against the back of your shoulder. "When have I ever friend-zoned you?"

Your heart stuttered in your chest for a moment, but it wasn't enough to wake you up completely. As you drifted off fully, you convinced yourself that you had imagined him saying that. You were both awfully tired, anyway.

EPISODE SEVEN: OH SHIT, WAS MY MIC ON?

TWO whirlwind weeks had flown by. You could hardly even soak in the moments of this last undergraduate project before it all began to blur together. The only ways you were able to properly tell time were crossing out calendar dates and—

“Oh my god, oh my god! Get it out, get it out!”

You, along with everyone present in the main auditorium of the performing arts hall, came to a screeching halt as a flurry of squeals erupted from somewhere deep backstage. You and the conductor of the pit orchestra exchanged concerned expressions before you were making a beeline for the fastest access point backstage. Younghoon and Eunwoo were swift to accompany you, and though you had a sinking feeling you knew what this was, you held your grimace for when you confirmed your suspicions.

Over the past couple of weeks, the feeling of being watched had not faded from the back of your mind. You tried to adjust rehearsal schedules so that they were a little earlier in the evening, but people had lives and you simply could not inconvenience them based on someone trying to scare you. Plus, with the spring season flying in swiftly, the sun retired a lot later, which gave you some peace of mind, at least.

But over that same time, the person meddling with your show had ceased to cease. One day it was sky blue fabric strewn all over the main stage; another day it was peacock feathers left in the projection box; there were cables missing from tech, headsets changed to radio channels. Somebody was clearly pulling out all the stops to ensure that this theater and production was full of old theater superstitions and bad luck, either to scare you or the people you were working with (or both), and frankly—it was working. To an extent.

You stormed into the back corridor of the performing arts hall, the supporting cast and tech crew all sprinkled about the hallway, anxiously watching you and your friends pass by them toward one of the larger dressing rooms.

“What is going on?” You demanded as you entered the dressing room. There was a small gathering of people gawking at something—the dressing room vanity mirror. The breath left your lungs at the sight.

The surface of the mirror was vandalized, the infamous word “Macbeth” scrawled all over its reflective plane in red lipstick. Some of the product had begun to melt from the heat of the lightbulbs around the mirror and dripped down the mirror like blood. It would have been a comical prank if this wasn’t a theater. You felt a stiff, cool breeze run across your skin.

Somebody was really trying to fuck you over, huh.

You shoved down a swallow. “Somebody get me some Windex,” you croaked. When nobody moved, you repeated yourself, forcing a bit more strength into your voice.

Chan appeared in the room, his own eyes pinned to the subject matter upon the mirror, as he handed you a bottle of Windex and an old rag.

You snatched it out of his hands with a “thank you”, then marched up to the mirror. With shaky hands, you began scrubbing away at the word written over and over on the mirror. You heard Chan corral everyone out of the dressing room and back to their original activities. All your senses had dulled by now, and you felt Younghoon gently pry the rag from your hands so he could reach the spaces that you couldn’t.

“Who is doing this?” You voiced to the now sparsely populated dressing room. You sat in one of the dressing room chairs with your hand pressed to your forehead with Younghoon, Chan, and Jihoon present. Eunwoo had gone out to calm people down, but you knew that this was going to draw a line for some people. It was a known superstition not to utter the name of the notorious Scottish Play in a theater, and it had just been named about a couple dozen times on the mirror behind you.

Your friends could offer no suggestions.

Your pride took an even bigger hit when you decided to cut the remainder of rehearsal for the day; you were certain there were at least a handful of people who were scandalized by what just happened.

“Are you okay, though?” Younghoon asked you for the third time as the two of you watched people leave the performing arts hall from the base of the nosebleeds. “I know that you’re not usually so… swayed by superstition.”

You could only give a stiff shrug. “I’m not,” you agreed, “but this is going to be the biggest project and production of my undergrad career. I don’t—I can’t take any chances.” You smoothed a hand over one half of your face. “God, I’m just tired, Hoon. I’m so stressed, and cutting rehearsal short today—we’re gonna be set back another day—”

“Hey,” he soothed, grasping you by the shoulders so you would look him in the eye. He offered a kind smile, “You’re doing great, Yn. I can’t imagine the pressure you’re under right now for this to go perfectly, but I think you have to have a little faith in all of us, including yourself. One rehearsal is not going to make a difference in the long run. We’ve got a lot of talented, hard-working people who will sleep this mishap off and come right back to make up for lost time.”

He squeezed your shoulder. “And whoever’s been doing this? They’ll get their due karma.”

You let his words soak into your brain. You needed this; you needed those words said to you. With a nod, you and Younghoon deigned to head out with everyone else. Jihoon and Chan were swift to shut the theater down for the evening, as well.

As you and Younghoon stepped out into the early evening, the sky still glowed a buttery yellow swirled in purpley-blue. There was another breeze wafting by, but instead of the chills you got before, it was slightly warmer and made you inhale deeply. The air out here made your lungs less constricted, you realized, and maybe you’d been stuck in that theater for too long lately. This would be good for you, as well as everyone else.

“I think me and some of the cast are gonna get together to go over some scenes at the grove,” said Younghoon as he peered down at his phone screen. “Wanna come with?”

You brushed a strand of hair from your face, a decision coming to surface. “Nah, I think I’m gonna take a walk. Get some fresh air.”

Younghoon passed you a brilliant-sort of smile that gleamed in the golden hour light. “Alrighty, director. Sounds good. Have a good night then, Yn-ie.”

“Yeah, you too. Thanks for today, Hoon.”

You and Younghoon parted ways there, and while he traveled down the stairs toward east campus, you traveled northward toward the quad. The quad, a place most known for the cherry blossom trees that bloomed in the early spring, was no doubt full of people taking late afternoon strolls in the temperate spring climate. It was the perfect environment for you to relax and let some of the stress and pressure fade from your pulsing temples.

There were no longer cherry blossom flowers blooming upon the dark branches, but healthy, dark green leaves. Even if they were shades of pink, they were still beautiful nonetheless.

After making a full loop around the quad lawn’s perimeter, you made a detour down one of the side pathways that were lined in trees that yawned toward its partner on the other side of the pathway. It was noticeably quieter and less populated here, and for once, you actually didn’t feel like you were being watched.

You were walking for only a few minutes in the serenity when you saw a pair of people standing in a clearing of trees just to your two o'clock. You stopped, a familiar blond haired best friend catching your eyes.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Was what you heard from Hyunjae, and you almost marched right up to them to defend him.

That was, until you saw the girl's face.

You hadn't recognized her at first because she had her back facing you and she had changed her hair. But it wasn't difficult to recognize your old friend, Ellie, the one who Hyunjae said had contacted her. Your eyebrows furrowed in utter confusion. Why were they together right now? You thought Hyunjae had said weeks ago that she was just trying to get ahold of an old project they'd done together in high school.

Ellie placed her hands on her hips, her facial expression stony and unreadable. "Can you think rationally for a second and listen to me all the way through? That's what you agreed to when you said you'd meet me."

Huh?

You pressed your side against the nearest tree trunk, your heart thundering your eardrums.

When Hyunjae said nothing, Ellie continued, exhaling sharply, "Okay. As I was saying earlier, do you even know what the play's about? …No. Look at you; can't you see? You don't even know what it's really about."

"Of course, I know what it's about," Hyunjae sneered. "It's about how academic pressure and miscommunication can ruin relationships—"

Ellie laughed, the sound mirthful, and yet carried an air of malice that made your skin crawl. This wasn't the Ellie you remembered… "That's funny, oh my god! You really don't know what it's about."

"What are you going on about?"

"I think you should ask her," she said with a smile. You peered around the tree, feeling utterly stupid like one of those characters from a teen drama eavesdropping on their lover and their nemesis. "Ask her, Hyunjae. I'm sure she'll tell you what it's really about when you mention that I told you she st—"

"Yn?"

Oh, for fuck's sake. You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of Jihyo's voice from behind you. You quickly grabbed her and dragged her down behind the tree trunk next to you. When she sent you a look that told you she thought you were completely deranged, you pressed a finger to your lips.

She indulged you, thank god, and followed your lead as you crept around the tree trunk again.

"It's cute that you have so much trust in her," was what you heard Ellie say next.

Jihyo squinted as she tried to identify the girl. "Who the fuck…?"

You kept your eyes glued to the pair before you, but muttered to Jihyo quickly, "That's Ellie. Old friend of mine from high school, but we drifted apart. Haven't talked to her since."

"She and Hyunjae are friends?"

"No, I have no clue what's going on." Yet, your stomach twisted and churned and you felt bile crawl up the length of your throat.

A muscle feathered in Hyunjae's jaw, but he couldn't seem to get himself to say something.

Ellie looked upon him pitifully. "One day, she'll drop you, too—when she finds someone better. That's what she did to me, y'know? I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories."

You saw red.

This time, Jihyo had to grab a fist full of your shirt and yank you down next to her to prevent you from clawing Ellie's vocal chords clean out of her throat. Because you would have.

Anything—you would've done anything to never see the flash of shame, hurt, and anger across Hyunjae's face when she said that. It was like she'd slapped him, clean and hard. Your chest ached as you watched his hand tighten into a fist at his side.

"You don't know anything about me," he said icily.

And it was over all too soon. Ellie said something to Hyunjae, but it was too quiet to hear. When Ellie left her own way, Hyunjae stalked off in a different direction, leaving you and Jihyo where the two of you remained hunched behind the tree.

You made to get up, but Jihyo pulled you back down again. "Ji, I have to go make sure he's okay—"

"I know you do," she told you firmly while keeping you seated down next to her. "But you're not in the right headspace, and neither is he. You need to breathe, especially after today and whatever the hell that was."

When you sent her a questionable look, she explained, "I bumped into Sana on my way to the performing arts center and she told me what happened. Then Younghoon told me you went on a walk and I just tracked your phone to here."

Your jaw dropped. "You tracked my—"

"Shhh," she shushed you, pressing a finger against your lips. "That's besides the point! Are you okay, Yn? For real."

You leaned back onto your palms, a frown coming up to your lips. "Everyone keeps asking me that lately."

"It's a valid question."

That was fair, you supposed. You released a sigh. "I mean… not really? I'm just stressed, and I don't even know what to think or how to comprehend what we just witnessed." Your brain was buzzing with every one of Ellie's biting words. What had she meant by all of that? She sounded so bitter, so malicious… What had happened?

Jihyo pressed her lips together, sitting down properly onto the grass. "What was that? Did you and Ellie end on bad terms?"

Your brows creased together and you absentmindedly scratched your jaw. "No," you murmured. "Not that I remember. It was just like we drifted apart over time. At least, that's how I remember it. I dunno."

You blew out another breath of air. Ellie and you had both been really good at what you did—theater, writing, all of the works. You two were a dynamic duo; if people now claimed you were a prodigy, then Ellie was your twin. In a way, you could probably say that your characters from the play you wrote almost mimicked yours and Ellie's creative abilities and technical prowess, but just in different spheres. While the love story was based upon you and Hyunjae, the foundation had been from you and Ellie.

But it eventually faded, that friendship. You figured that was just how things worked, as unfortunate as it was. You both moved on, and you found Hyunjae.

You relayed all of this to Jihyo, your friend listening to your words intently.

"—but I've never carried any ill will toward her," you reiterated at the end of your spiel. "I truly haven't heard from her since and she hasn't reached out either. I don't know what could have caused her to tell Hyunjae all of that."

Jihyo pressed her mouth to her knuckles as a thoughtful frown graced her porcelain features. "Hm, yeah. It's curious, for sure. What were they saying before I got here?"

You gnawed on your top lip. "She kept insisting that he didn't know what the play was really about and that he should ask me."

"Huh."

"I know right." You carded a hand through your hair. "I'm screwed."

"Only if he actually works up the guts to ask," she countered. "Though, I think you should beat him to it."

You cocked your head to the side in question. "What do you mean?"

She lifted her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. "Y'know—like you have to confront him about meeting with Ellie. You can't keep this from him; I know you."

Yeah, she was right. It would eat at you if you let that guilt swirl in your stomach. Plus, all of those things Ellie had said to him… you hoped he was okay. Dear god, you hoped he was okay.

(But the question now, you supposed, was who would bring it up first?)

EPISODE EIGHT: EVERYBODY KNOWS THAT SHE'S THE BO-BO-BO-BOSS

FUNNY story: it took a week before you and Hyunjae could even have a proper conversation, in person.

With the quarter well underway, there was little to no time to stop and smell the flowers anymore. This had now become a race toward graduation, meaning that everyone was focused on their own problems. The “pranks” had dulled down, but they were, by no means, completely gone. There were always the occasional cord missing, or that dreaded creaking noise in the wings on late nights.

You’d grown used to it by this point, and so had your peers, luckily. The conversation between Ellie and Hyunjae sat in the back of your mind at all times. You always knew it was there, but you had so many things to worry about. Act two was just about wrapping up though, and so, play progress was chugging along well on schedule.

You really did have nothing to worry about—maybe it had all been jitters. Maybe it would all just finally go smoothly.

Friday night rehearsal was a little slower tonight since everyone had been here since noon. You’d all practically spent the entire day together, having lunch first, then diving into proper rehearsal. It had been a rehearsal full of laughs and a good time, and by the time Hyunjae stepped foot into the performing arts hall, you felt that you could take on anything. Even the conversation that needed to take place.

“Hey, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?” He said as the two of you stepped into the privacy of the sound booth, the tails of laughter still lingering in the air from the scene he had come into. You were currently rehearsing the directions of the first scene of act three, where Younghoon’s character was going through a full-on “groom-zilla” mode while Eunwoo’s character couldn’t stop talking about Sana’s character. It had been a full one-eighty character swap between the two friends.

You licked your lips, trying to press your smile down a little. “Oh, yeah. I was taking a walk, like, a week ago—and I saw you and Ellie talking.” You figured it would be better to just air it out right away; there was no need to beat around the bush. You lowered yourself onto the edge of one of the tables inside the booth, the air turning stuffy from the insulation inside the box. Crossing your arms loosely over your front, you watched as Hyunjae’s mood shifted, his body shuffling as he sought a comfortable position against the wall by the door.

Hyunjae cleared his throat, head ducking as his hand cupped the back of his neck. “Oh, really? You saw that?”

“I heard what she said to you—”

His head whipped up at that.

“—and I can’t believe she said that,” you said, those dagger-sharp words echoing in your mind from what Ellie had said to him about his own character. “Are you… are you okay?”

Hyunjae’s eyes widened a millimeter. “Am—am I okay?” He stammered.

“Yeah, I mean, she said that you were awful and it was…” You shook your head with a haggard sigh. “I’m sorry she said all that to you.”

“Thanks,” he exhaled, peering over at you through his eyelashes. He looked so small for once. “I—” He huffed air out from his nostrils, leaning his head back against the wall as he struggled to find the words he wanted to say. “Is that all you heard though?”

No, I also heard her insist you ask me what the play is about. You blinked, your own voice seemingly trapped in your throat. Why couldn’t you just own up to it?

But he must have taken your silence as you saying that you hadn’t heard anything else, so he gathered his wits to ask you, “Yn, what’s the play really about?”

The breath left your lungs. “You know what it’s about, Jae. You were there while I wrote it.” Please don’t make me say it. Please don’t make me say it. Because a part of you knew that if he pushed, you would give. You would tell him because… how could you not? If he wanted you to be honest with him, then… oh god, would you really? Would you risk this little secret of yours and ruin a friendship? Either way—it could go either way.

His tongue darted out for a moment as he carded a hand through his hair; he took a couple steps toward you. “I know, Yn. But—Ellie kept on insisting that I ask you what the real idea behind the play is. And she—and she,” he laughed, the sound disbelieving, “she said that you stole the idea from her, which is crazy! I know it’s crazy, because I watched you labor over this thing for months.”

She what? All thoughts except for one left your brain at that moment: why in the world would Ellie tell Hyunjae that you stole the idea for Jasmine from her? You didn’t remember ever seeing this kind of work from her before. “I didn’t steal anything from her.”

“I know,” he replied again, placating you. He now stood right in front of you, but your eyes raced back and forth about a mile a minute as you mentally went through the things you remember ever writing with her. You couldn’t remember; you couldn’t think. Why would she say that? “So I just wanted to ask,” he said slowly, his words drawn out as he leaned down slightly so you would look him in the eyes, “what is the play really about? The real meaning.”

There were pros and cons to telling him. On the one hand, you could spew the same surface-level bullshit that you usually did, but you had a feeling that one wouldn’t work this time. On the other hand, you could tell him—the truth. That was the worst pill to swallow. It could end in utter catastrophe or it could end in your wildest dreams. But what if, when he didn’t feel the same about you, had to let you down easy and your friendship would never be the same ever again? You couldn’t bear losing him, you just couldn’t. You loved Hyunjae…

“Yn, you’re scaring me,” he said with an anxious laugh.

You met his eyes then. “You don’t trust me?” You blurted before you could stop yourself. Those words, that tone… it sounded to you like he really was starting to believe what Ellie told him.

Something flashed across his face, and he was racing to defend himself. “What? No, of course I trust you. I just—I just want to know what the real meaning behind the play was about; that’s all!” And if you can’t tell me, then what else am I supposed to believe? “Yn, come on, honey—please—”

“It’s about you.”

All breath left him. You saw the way one hundred and one emotions flickered through his eyes; all of thoughts racing about at once as he tried to comprehend. “What? I don’t—I don’t understand.”

You balled your hands into fists in front of you as the frustration suddenly bubbled to the surface. “I wrote it about us, Hyunjae,” you told him. “Alex is based on you, Kai is based on me. I’ve been in love with you since junior year of high school, and that is what the true premise of the play is about.” Your hands were shaking now, gesturing between the two of you in stiff, constrained motions like the feeling of your chest’s range of movements at this time.

You watched it dawn on him, watched him swallow—hard. “Yn, I’m sorry—”

“Jaehyun.”

He shut up immediately.

You pressed your fingers to the space between your eyes. For a second, you swore you could feel tears tickle the insides of your eyes, and you blinked them away, inhaling deeply to get your body to calm the fuck down. Why were you crying? There was no reason to be crying right now. “Can you—” you stumbled over your words for once, “—can you give me some space. I can’t… I can’t think.”

He obliged you, backing up a few steps, and you said fuck it. “Hyunjae, I need space. Please.”

You thought you saw hurt flash across his face, but you just wanted to be out of his eyesight. You couldn’t bear to feel those soft, sympathetic eyes on you. You couldn’t bear the weight of his “I’m sorry I don’t feel the same” right now.

“Okay,” he said, though barely audible.

It took a minute, but he left and you were finally able to suck in a large gulp of air. You strode out of the sound box and realized that everyone on stage was either looking your way, or had quickly turned their heads to pretend they hadn’t just seen that silent argument take place through the sound box window.

Your face and neck were on fire, but you swallowed your pride and returned to your rightful place in the middle aisles of the floor seats. You picked up your script from where you’d abandoned it by your bag. “Right,” you said, your voice shaky until you cleared your throat. (Your hands were definitely still a bit wobbly, but that wasn’t your greatest concern right now.) “Where were we? Scene one, right?”

Everyone slowly began making their way back to their original positions, but Younghoon walked up to the bottom stage and lowered his voice to say, “Yn, we can take a break if you need one. Take five, then reconvene.”

He probably knew what just went down in the sound box. Yet, you found yourself shaking your head. “No, it’s fine,” you assured him, un-reassuringly. “I can do this, Hoon.”

He frowned at you then—those damn, soulful eyes—but nodded, respecting your decision. Like everyone else, he returned to the original position his character was in at the top of the scene.

I’m sorry, his voice seemed to echo in your ears. A part of you ached at the thought of that stark hurt on his face, but you were hurting, too. Why would you send him away like that?

You blinked, your head clearing. “Okay, everyone. Let’s see it.”

— ✶

A few hours later, you finally had everyone wrap up for the night.

“Thanks for all your hard work today!” You exclaimed as the actors and techies began swarming the stage to put props away. You climbed up to the stage, too, jumping onto one of the backdrops that Younghoon was wheeling backstage to help him direct it through the heavy folds of the backdrop curtain.

Younghoon shot you a smile from the other side of the prop. “Well, Miss Director, nice work today.”

You returned the expression wholeheartedly. “Thanks, man. The same goes to you; I appreciate all your hard work today. And that idea for the wedding sequence was absolutely brilliant.”

He chuckled at that, and the two of you worked together to slot the prop onto the cart with the rest of the ones that were just like it. A couple of stagehands then moved the assembly line along and rolled the cart down the hall to lock up in one of the dressing rooms. “I like to think I’ve been to enough weddings at this point to know how to spice them up.”

“Ah, that’s right,” you mused along with him as the two of you began walking down the backstage corridor to where you knew his partner was hard at work with that miraculous fountain. “I remember something about yours and YH!Yn’s first proper outing being to your cousin’s wedding?”

Younghoon threw his head back with a hearty chuckle at that. “Your memory serves you correctly then,” he confirmed. “Well, it wasn’t our first proper outing together. Technically, we met at an outing—”

“What do you think they were arguing about? It looked like they broke up or something.”

The line caught you off guard, and your footsteps faltered. Younghoon gave you a confused look, eyebrow arched. Your ears strained to eavesdrop on the conversation happening in one of the open dressing rooms you just passed by.

“No way that they were dating! … okay, I guess that would make sense why she put up with him all the time,” a second voice scoffed. “Maybe she finally got tired of his bullshit and cut him off.”

“That would make sense as to why he got out of the theater so fast. I went to their high school, and even after Hyunjae left, the year above me still talked about him—”

Your hand slammed against the doorframe of the dressing room, effectively making the two stagehands inside jump in surprise. They gaped at you with wide eyes, lips parted in shock as you addressed them with a carefully-made blank expression. “Let’s not go sticking our noses where they aren’t appreciated, yeah? Worry about yourselves, thanks.”

The two bowed their heads, apologies crawling from their mouths, and you turned back into the hallway where Younghoon was waiting for you.

You resumed your walk down the hall, and your friend casted you a side-long glance. “Thanks for standing up for him like you do,” he said to you. “I don’t know what happened today, but…”

“It doesn’t matter what happened today,” you said to Younghoon with a small exhale. You gave him a smile, even though you knew it wasn’t convincing. “I’ll always stand up for him.”

“Even when he doesn’t deserve it?” Younghoon joked with a laugh.

Your smile curled a little wider. “Even when he doesn’t deserve it.” In reality, you knew that he deserved to have someone stand up for him. Whether that be you, or Younghoon, or even Jihoon—you knew that everyone deserved to have someone watch their back when they weren’t around. You might have pushed him away earlier this evening, but that would never stop you from continuing to protect him. It was simple, really; you loved him.

EPISODE NINE: ARE DRAMA MAJORS ALWAYS SO DRAMATIC? WAIT, DON’T ANSWER THAT.

“I don’t understand why we couldn’t have done this in the grocery store like you guys always do,” Hyunjae grumbled as sounds of livelihood raged all around him: pots and pans clanged to the sizzle of food on the stove, the TV played some random American murder mystery show on low volume, and Hyunjae was sandwiched in between two others on his and Younghoon’s apartment couch.

Chanhee, who sat on the other side of Juyeon (who was on one side of Hyunjae), snorted. His nose was in his phone as he scrolled through Instagram, but didn’t look up as he replied, “As if we’d let you into Grocery Aisle Therapy. That’s exclusive admission.”

“That’s true,” Jacob chimed in from Hyunjae’s other side, as the man spooned a generous helping of Frosted Flakes into his mouth, “I tried.”

“And if even Jacob was denied entry,” Sangyeon mused from the kitchen as he turned off the stove and hood range, carrying over a bowl of the fried rice he had made for himself. Haknyeon skipped behind him with his own bowl and his cheeks were already full of the delicious food. Eric and Sunwoo were swift to follow their friend’s lead and raced into the kitchen to get a helping for themselves.

Changmin made a face from where he sat on the floor below Chanhee and Younghoon. “Not for lack of trying. You should’ve seen JC!Yn try to resist his goo-goo eyes. Bleh,” he gagged.

“I admire her tenacity then,” Hyunjae sniffed. “Not everyone can resist Jacob.”

Jacob beamed.

Kevin narrowed his eyes at Changmin. He sat just a few spaces away from the glasses-wearing menace, but carefully cross-legged and cradling a bowl of popcorn in his hands. “You say that when you literally pined after your girlfriend like an angsty teenager for three years.” He feigned a face of contemplation, then added, “Oh wait, you actually are an angsty teen—aye! Dad, Changmin hit me!”

“I am so sick of this family,” Sangyeon mumbled under his breath as he collapsed into the armchair adjacent to the sofa-sectional everyone else flocked upon. “Enough, both of you. Why were we all called here, again?”

Eric slid back into the living room on the polished wood floors in his socks, then perched atop the arm of Sangyeon’s armchair as he feasted upon his bowl of fried rice. He carefully lowered each spoonful of rice into his mouth so he wouldn’t dirty the fluffy cardigan he now wore. "Hyung's in trouble with his lady lover."

“Lady lover?” Sunwoo echoed with his face scrunched up like he just ate something sour. He had taken the spot between Kevin and Changmin to hopefully stop one from kicking the other again (hopefully).

"You're so judgmental."

"And you're—"

Sangyeon massaged the migraine pulsing in his temples away furiously with a clear grimace. "Shush, children. What did you do this time, Hyunjae?"

Hyunjae's jaw dropped, an image akin to one particular Pikachu meme. "Why am I immediately assumed to be the one at fault?"

"You summoned us all here," Haknyeon said with a shrug. "And Younghoon hyung said that it looked like you and Yn-ie suffered a break up in front of the entire main cast of Jasmine."

Hyunjae threw a displeased glance Younghoon's way; the tall man grinned sheepishly as if saying "what was I supposed to do—lie?" Hyunjae stared down at his lap, fidgeting with his fingers and the watch on his wrist. "It wasn't a break up…"

Kevin made a disapproving noise. "Oh, we know."

Hyunjae glared down at the top of Kevin's head. "Rude."

"Okay, so explain what happened," Juyeon prompted.

The man in question sucked in a breath. Where to begin? Someone muted the TV, so Hyunjae and Younghoon's apartment descended into a coat of silence. Everyone waited for Hyunjae's response.

Hyunjae decided that there was only one logical way to start. He began when he first received a text message from the elusive 'Ellie', your supposed best friend before him. He couldn't believe you had a soulmate other than him, but it only mattered that you two had found each other—not that that mattered—

He went through the entire spiel: Ellie had texted him about some project they worked on together in senior year of high school. He hadn't known why she would even care about something dumb they'd done in high school especially when she was a fourth year in college like the rest of you. But she had asked politely and he wasn't one to just dismiss someone when it was a simple, innocent request. However, when he had finished with this little task, he should have stopped there.

Their conversations eventually escalated from innocent "oh, you remember when…" to "if we meet, you have to agree to hear my side of the argument." He remembered her exact words: "You'll be very shocked to hear the truth" regarding your business with the play. He wanted to look out for you like you always did for him (and screw it, he was curious), so he obliged Ellie and met with her.

That had been one of many mistakes he made. The biggest mistake was what went down at the theater a couple of days ago. And now? He had just made you confess to him, he had broken your trust, and he didn't know how he was going to make it up to you.

(He had to admit though, that once he finally got space to think about what you said to him, there was something about the prospect of you being in love with him that gave his heart a lively kick-start—)

Chanhee reached over Juyeon's head and swatted Hyunjae's neck like there was a very large mosquito there. "You dumbass!"

Hyunjae yelped, his hand reaching up to rub the aching place furiously. "Ow!"

"Deserved," Kevin sang as he tossed a handful of popcorn into his mouth. "That was super not cool, man."

"You don't think I know that?" He rolled his eyes.

"Yes," everyone chorused together.

Cue his next set of eye rolls.

"Hyung," said Sunwoo as he shifted so he faced Hyunjae. His eyes squinted up at him, his curly bangs falling into his pupils as they usually did. "How could you not see that she was in love with you? You have to be blinder than a bat."

"You've been hanging out with SW!Yn too much," Changmin teased.

"Hey, don't bring her into this and taint her good name! Even she saw how perfectly enraptured Yn-ie is."

Changmin opened his mouth to make another unnecessary comment, but Sunwoo slapped a palm over his friend's mouth.

"I guess that leaves one question," said Juyeon, finally, after a long stretch of his silence.

"And what's that, Juyeonie?" Sangyeon asked.

Juyeon pursed his lips together in a slight pout. "What else? Are you in love with Yn, too, Hyunjae?"

Oh—

Hyunjae's thoughts careened to a stop when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He maneuvered around on the couch cushion to retrieve the device, his heart pounding in anticipation—but that emotion was immediately swapped out with utter disdain.

His friends observed this flip with great interest. "Who—"

An indignant spark lit Hyunjae's dark irises as he furiously typed something to the sender and promptly blocked the number.

Jacob and Juyeon, who were able to peer over at Hyunjae's phone screen, both widened their eyes in scandal. Jacob grinned, lifting his hand to delicately hide his snickers. "Well that answers our question."

Hyunjae sulked, swiping through his contacts, then blocking Ellie's number, too. He should have done that so damn long ago.

"It was some guy asking if he knew if Yn was free in two weeks—"

"And she's not," Hyunjae grunted, shoving his phone back into his pocket, then standing up to go get Sangyeon's fried rice in the kitchen. "These fucking guys, man. Like, what the fuck am I gonna do? Hype you up to her? No way in hell—" He scoffed, slapping a spatula of rice into his bowl with a strength that the bowl, rice, and utensil didn't deserve.

He couldn't believe that one stupid, little thing the two of you had done in freshman year of college had led to this spam of dudes flooding his inbox for you. If he had half a mind, he would declare that you weren't on the market anymore and that you weren't even interested in seeing any… body…

The thought marinated in his head for a moment as he slowly chewed the fried rice. Why did he want you "off the market"? You were his best friend, but you weren't his to covet or shield or speak for. You weren't his.

You weren't… his.

"Oh my god, you can actually see the neurons firing in his brain for once."

Hyunjae plopped himself back into his original place on the couch. "I hate you guys."

"So you've realized that you're in love with her?" Younghoon asked exasperatedly, his hands splayed out on his legs like he was begging to the cosmos.

Hyunjae made a face and pretended that his heart wasn't palpitating and that a drop of sweat wasn't dripping down the back of his neck right now. "What? Of course not," he said through a mouthful of fried rice.

One could hear the collective exhale of disappointment all the way to your townhouse.

— ✶

It was Thursday evening when you found yourself walking out of the performing arts hall after yet another rehearsal, and coming face to face with the person who had become one of your greatest problems over the past month.

Your hand stopped in midair from which you were brushing the hair out of your face when you and a young woman made eye contact. She was seated on one of the benches facing the entryway of the performing arts hall, her attention lifting away from her phone and to you. The sky remained alight and streaked in its dazzling sunset colors, and yet, the sight of her made everything feel grayed.

She smiled at you. "Ah, you're done."

Something crawled beneath the surface of your skin. For a second, you thought it was disgust, but upon further thought, it was really something bittersweet. You swallowed, adjusting your hold on your bag strap. "Can I help you?"

"Do you remember me, Yn?"

"Of course, I do, Ellie." How could I forget you?

Ellie's smile shuddered and you suddenly couldn't read her face. It was strange seeing her four years into the future. You remembered catching glimpses of her in the hallways, her sweet smile and button nose, the freckles sprinkled across her cheekbones like kisses from the sun. "I guess that's one thing out of the way."

Her biting words to Hyunjae appeared in the forefront of your mind. "What you said to Hyunjae—"

"Was true," she cut in. "And based on the fact that he blocked me a few days ago, I'm guessing that something happened between you two." Her lips curled upward, "How does it feel to know he actually doubted you? If I'm being honest, it makes me fucking sing, Yn!" There was a shiver-inducing giddiness to her voice and you wondered if this was all a joke. It would be a cruel joke, but anything would be better than this.

Could she see the horror on your face? "Ellie, we were friends," you managed to say.

She pressed her lips together. "We were friends until you decided that we weren't."

"What are you talking about?" You threw back at her. "We drifted apart—"

"You abandoned me," she quipped. The smile was gone now, her mouth set into a taut line. "You left me to rot."

Your heart dropped into your stomach. About a million things flashed through your mind, but most of all, you came to a very fast epiphany: you'd always thought she was happy. "Ellie," you said, slowly, softly, "I'm sorry that you felt that way. Really, I am so sorry."

"I've made sure you feel that way."

"But you should have left Hyunjae out of this."

Ellie laughed and the sound was harsh. "This isn't about your stupid best friend, or whatever. This is about you and me. I can't believe you thought—how could you prefer him over me? Why did you stop talking to me, Yn?"

You were so confused. All this time, you had thought that yours and Ellie's friendship ended on a mutually neutral ground. You thought that you had just drifted away from one another from the eventuality of time. Was that not how she saw it this entire time?

The end of Ellie's question took on a raspy undertone, the gleam in her eyes less so that of anger, but the melancholy underneath. You wanted to make things right, but you didn't know what that was.

When you had yet to say anything except for letting the breeze waft past your face, she let out a scoff. It was a somewhat embarrassed sound, her eyes skittish. "You know that my parents always compared me to you. Constantly. You remember what you said to me?"

You swallowed. "'They can compare all they want, but you'll always be enough for me.'"

"I didn't want to bother you when we 'drifted apart', as you say," she continued on with a huff. "And then I saw you and Hyunjae, and the way you looked at him—god, I knew right away, Yn. And I was so bitter. Just so, so bitter." She shook her head. "I've been thinking about this for a long time."

Dear god, you hadn't known this whole time. You'd wished you had known. You didn't know what you might have done differently—maybe not have been so blind—but… what if you couldn't have saved that friendship? Was this always meant to happen in the grand scheme of the universe's stage?

You made your way toward her and she simply watched as you stopped a handful of paces away from her. “I didn’t mean to drift away from you or to make you feel like I was replacing you in any way.” For a moment, you were quiet, and you inhaled a deep breath to query, "What made you suddenly want to confront me after so long then?"

She peered up at you, a mixture of sadness and something sharper in the reflection of her irises. "You didn't have to keep getting better and showing off. I just got sick of living in your shadow when you weren't even there."

You bristled at that. “What else could I have done? I’m sorry you felt that way, really, but I had a lot of pressure on my shoulders, too. I wanted them to stop expecting more from me, but each time I did something right, they kept pushing for more. And I—”

“I just wanted my friend back!” She exclaimed.

The words died on your tongue, dissipating in the tense air between you two. The fight left you then, seeing the hard break in her expression, a sliver of the girl you remembered from so long ago. What happened to her? She’d been poisoned by whatever feelings were locked inside her, and you supposed that it was only inevitable that those same feelings would one day be unleashed. You wished she didn’t have to confront you this way. "So you thought lying to Hyunjae would have done the trick?" You finally murmured.

"You didn't figure out who's been messing around with your production all quarter?"

The question caught you off guard, but you were quick to catch on nonetheless. Your breath hitched as you stood there, stunned. "That was you?"

A nod.

"All of it?" Disbelief struck you clean across the face and you felt like you'd just been slapped. A new level of anger boiled in your blood; all of those nights you spent creeped out of your mind, the extra stress from all the superstitious bullshit—

"This is our last act," she said, her tongue darting out for a moment. "I don't want anything else from you after this."

You couldn’t believe she would go through all of this trouble—all for what? All to prove what? It was utterly childish, preposterous, dramatic. “Good,” you asserted, as firmly as you could muster, “I don’t want anything from you either.”

And there was a split-second where you saw a crack in her expression, truly. Before, when you’d seen that bit of melancholy seep through, it must have been purposeful. Perhaps it was to draw some kind of sympathy or guilt from you, but after she admitted to doing all of that crap to you and your peers, you weren’t about to lean into that, old friend be damned. Of course you felt bad that she had felt like that for so long. You pitied her. But it didn’t mean you had to forgive her; not for this.

Maybe this was it though: all she wanted from you was for you to feel as helpless as she had, but you simply couldn’t feel that way. All that you could feel was cold fury.

“Fine,” she cleared her throat, straightening. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

You let out a scoff, the sound making her eyelids shudder. Your teeth grated against each other as you closed yours and her “final act”: “And I hope you’ve learned yours. I hope I never see you again.”

You turned brusquely on your heel to walk away before you did anything rash. But a sudden thought appeared on the tip of your tongue, and you found yourself stopping. When you glanced back at her, she was watching you leave with an emotion you couldn’t quite detect. The two of you had been such good friends, and… you really wished you could understand her position better. “I just don’t understand why you went through all this trouble. If you had just—texted me, called me—” You made a gesture with your hand then let the limb fall limply to your side, “You could’ve just said hi.”

You left her behind after that, purposefully this time. Did people like Ellie deserve their chance at redemption? Maybe when the dust had settled, but for now, you hoped she received her due karma.

EPISODE TEN: GOOGLE, DEFINE DRAMATIC IRONY.

THEY said that a terrible dress rehearsal marked a production for a brilliant opening night. As Michael, the wine salesman dude, forgot his fifth line of the rehearsal; as the tech staff in the box forgot their second lighting cue of the night; and as Hongjoong continued to have to fuss over San’s Uncle™ beard for the third time, you were trying very hard to keep that saying in mind.

Weeks had passed—you didn’t know how many, maybe five, maybe two, maybe an entire year—but that entire time, you didn’t feel Ellie’s presence haunting you anymore, nor had you heard from Hyunjae yet. He was busy with his architectural capstone project, anyway, and you felt that you both needed to take this time to yourselves to focus on more important things. (You thought this as if your friendship with him didn’t mean the absolute fucking world, but you were pretty sure you were seconds away from setting this building on fire so—)

The dreaded Tech Week had descended upon the cast and crew of Jasmine. Not only that, but it was also Finals Week, meaning everyone in this room was just as stressed out as they usually were, except, five times more. It made for a great rehearsal, clearly.

“—remember that as soon as she says ‘fine!’, you have to be out here to pull the rug out from beneath her feet,” you instructed the stagehand, who looked a millisecond away from passing out right there on the stage.

When they nodded their understanding, you turned away with a migraine pounding away at your temples. You just had to get through one more act, and you could call it a night. Opening night was literally in four days, and you were trying not to yearn after your best friend and feel guilty about pushing him away—and then there was the guilt that had slowly bubbled up over the past few weeks from what happened with Ellie. Maybe it had been all your fault—

“Yn, your eye is twitching.”

“Huh?” You perked up from where you were seemingly glaring a hole in the ground of the nosebleeds. Younghoon shot you an amused, yet mildly concerned look from within the winds of the stage. “Oh, sorry. Can we take it from the top of act three, please? One more act, people; let’s hang in there.”

That latter bit was more for you.

By the end of rehearsal, everyone was just as happy as you were to head home. Today was Monday, the beginning of the week, and yet you wished it was Saturday already—graduation. Now that was the light at the end of the tunnel.

Younghoon held the door open for you as the two of you exited out the front doors of the performing arts hall. When you murmured a thank you to him, he fell into step with you easily. The walk to the bus station seemed impossibly long with the ache in your legs.

Younghoon released a low-sounding whistle. “So…”

“Hm?”

“Are you coming to Cobie’s surprise birthday party tomorrow? I know it’s finals week and tech week, but it’d be nice to have that little break beforehand.”

Oh, right. Hyunjae’s friend Jacob was having his birthday party—well, it wasn’t him who was hosting, but his girlfriend. She had organized all of it, and had even had the good will to extend an invitation to you. At the time, you couldn’t find it in you to say no, despite the knowledge of your busy month at the forefront of your mind. But even now, you found it hard to really formulate a concrete response. The uneasiness was creeping up on you again.

“I dunno, Hoon…” you said lowly with a wince. “Maybe I should just catch up on sleep, y’know? And plus, I don’t want my feelings for Hyunjae to ruin the mood or anything. I’m kind of a Debby Downer right now,” you laughed pitifully.

Younghoon’s mouth curved into a frown. “Yn, you’re not a downer. You’re stressed and you have a lot of burden on your shoulders, but… I think something carefree will be good for you, no? Maybe you should at least stop by and say hello to people—take advantage of Hyunjae having to be in charge of providing free booze for everyone.”

You glanced up at him, meeting his kind eyes. “I’ll think about it,” you promised. You were probably too tired to think logically about going anywhere else but your bed at this moment.

Younghoon nodded. “Okay.”

As the two of you carried on down the stairs now, the bus stop in sight, you gathered your wits about you. “How is… how is he, by the way?” You asked.

Younghoon peered at you with something akin to gentleness and sympathy. “He’s… I think he’s okay.” He squinted one eye as he looked up toward the night sky, the thoughts meandering about his head. “You just have to give him some time. You know how stubborn he is,” he joked.

You could only give a shallow nod at that.

Not one to let a friend leave him so upset, he nudged you with the back of his hand. “Hey, don’t worry too much about him, okay? You have a lot on your plate right now, and you deserve to have your head in the game, okay? It’s all gonna be okay.”

“You always have such a way with words,” you laughed lightly as you wiped a tear from your eye—whether it was from emotions or just being plain exhausted, you couldn’t tell.

He smiled again then. “If I wrote down these words, I’d be stealing your job, Miss Director.”

Your laugh was a little brighter at that note. “Okay, Actor Extraordinaire. We’ll see about that.”

The two of you shared a laugh, and when you reached the bus stop, Younghoon waited until the bus came by to pick you up. It wasn’t yet deep night, but he was a gentleman all the same. You climbed up into the bus, scanning your transportation card as you went, then sat by a window to wave to Younghoon.

When the bus pulled away from the curb and away into the night, Younghoon pulled out his phone to the text chain with his partner. He’d come to a decision then, and as hungry as he was, he figured he could channel this annoyance into confronting one certain man by the name of Lee Jaehyun.

younghoon’s phone: love, i think i’m going to be late for dinner

beloved mastermind: i’ll save u a seat &lt;;3

— ✶

The lights beneath the swimming pool glowed an ethereal shade of fluorescent blue. It reminded Younghoon of a mermaid's cove with the way the light waves reflected off the ceilings of the building to create scales on the rafters. The emptiness of the indoor swimming pool was offset by the thrashing of flesh against water as a lone swimmer stole lap after lap across the great blue.

Younghoon lowered himself onto a steel bleacher and watched Hyunjae bolt from one end of the pool to the next, hardly taking the time to breathe air, like he breathed chlorine and water instead. The familiarity of the smell—warm stone, pungent chemicals—sent flashes of Younghoon's own days on the high school swim team to his mind.

At last, Hyunjae took his final lap, his breathing coming out labored as he swept a hand up his face and through his hair. His locks slicked all the way back, and his chest rose and fell harshly as adrenaline pumped through his veins and his lungs fought to consume oxygen without asphyxiating on it.

Hyunjae clambered his elbows onto the deck. "How'd you—know I was here?" He managed to say, nodding his thanks as Younghoon handed him the water bottle at the other end of the bench from him where Hyunjae's duffle bag sat.

Younghoon gave a meager shoulder shrug. "I know you too well not to," he said. The two were both swimmers, and where else would swimmers go to put their head somewhere else and to escape the world?

Hyunjae couldn't argue with that.

The two friends were quiet for a minute as Younghoon let Hyunjae catch his breath. There was something troubling about seeing him so tense, even after pumping out so many laps. The exhaustion didn't seem to outweigh the conflict warring in his mind.

Finally— "Hyunjae-ah, what are you doing?"

Hyunjae blinked up at him, perplexed. "Huh?"

Younghoon leaned his cheek against his palm, elbow resting on top of his knee. He fixed him with a stare. "What are you doing?" He repeated.

This time, the message seemed to have been delivered successfully. Hyunjae licked his lips, his gaze averting away from Younghoon. "Did you come here just to scold me?"

"No, I came here to tell you you're being an angsty teen."

Hyunjae scowled, his lips pressed into a pout. "No, I'm not."

Younghoon rolled his eyes just as his stomach grumbled in protest at him not going straight to meet his partner for dinner. Instead, here he was, trying to talk sense to a wall. "You're so childish sometimes."

He quieted. Hyunjae leaned his head against the meat of his forearm, eyes fluttering closed against the warmth of the heated pool deck. "How is she?"

"She's not good, but she's also not bad," Younghoon replied. He sighed, leaning forward onto his forearms for a more comfortable confrontation position. His lips pulled into a line. "Stressed, of course, but I think that was a given."

Hyunjae rubbed his eyes. "I fucked up, Younghoon."

A solemn nod. "I'm glad you see it now."

"This isn't a joke."

"I'm not saying it's a joke."

Hyunjae squinted at him. "Sometimes I don't believe you."

Younghoon smiled cheekily. "Well, sometimes you have to pick who and what to believe."

That hit a nerve, even if Younghoon didn't mean it to. Hyunjae immediately thought of yours and his last conversation. He couldn't get the image out of his head of the look of betrayal on your face when you asked him if he didn't trust you. He'd been stupid to be so curious, but of course he trusted you. He'd always trusted you. Who else could he trust but the very person who always protected him and was by his side? So why did he have to go and be so stupid?

He backed away from the wall for a minute and simply stood in the middle of the shallow lane as if the water could give him wisdom. "I," he began, then sighed, "I miss her a lot. I've wanted to text her, to call her so many times." He smiled, but it wasn't a happy one. "I think I just don't know what I would say."

"An apology would be a good start," suggested Younghoon.

"Right…" That was obvious, and yet, it was always the most difficult step. Would you let him come back into your life after a reveal like that? Feelings were such fragile, fickle things.

His heart sank at the idea of losing you forever though.

One day, she'll drop you, too, those damned words replayed over and over in his head like a broken record. —When she finds someone better… I don't know why she went to you, though. You are awful. I've heard all the stories.

Once upon a time, Hyunjae hadn't always been "awful" or dogged down by other people's negative testimonials about his attitude. So what if he had been "scorned by love" as you so lovingly put it one time? That experience had been enough for him to shut down all access points, keeping you sheltered in with him. It was hard for him to think of wanting to be with anyone else… but you.

He didn't mean to latch onto you so tight, but perhaps he had grown so dependent on you all this time. You had never given him reason to doubt how much you cared—god, why had he been so stupid?

Younghoon watched Hyunjae's inner conflict through the windows to his soul, glowing with the cerulean blue of the chemically altered pool water. "Hyunjae, do you love her?"

Of course he loved you. That was out of the question. But this was a different type of love that Younghoon was referring to, and it called for something much larger in the grand scheme of things.

That kind of love—what a frightening prospect, he thought. But didn't you make everything so much less frightening?

EPISODE ELEVEN: PLACES, EVERYONE!

"YOU stole my boyfriend, by the way." Hyunjae huffed as he set down the last two grocery bags he had helped bring up to the apartment from Juyeon's car.

JC!Yn barely batted an eyelash at him as she swept past to organize the utensils and cups set out on the breakfast table. “You snooze, you lose, Lee,” she teased with a sing-song tone.

From the front door, Sangyeon bumbled in with a clean, crisp white box, as he whistled a happy tune under his breath. JC!Yn greeted him at the entryway, thanking him profusely for picking up the cake, then taking the box from him so she could transfer it to the fridge for safe keeping.

“Chanhee says that he’s bringing his best friend, so he wants everyone to—I quote—‘not be embarrassing’,” Changmin snorted and giggled loudly from the couch where he relayed the information from his texts with Chanhee.

“That’ll be difficult for you,” CM!Yn quipped back so fast that Hyunjae couldn’t even suppress the high-pitched laugh he let out. Not that he wanted to suppress it; he had to admit that Changmin’s girlfriend was just as much a menace as her boyfriend was.

As Changmin’s jaw dropped and he pounced on top of her to tickle her into submission, Hyunjae averted his gaze elsewhere. He pulled his phone out, leaning against the granite kitchen countertop while he read Younghoon’s latest text notifications.

bread face: we’ll be there soon

bread face: i think i saw kevin and jacob a few cars behind us at the intersection, so i’m making haknyeon step on it

hyunjae’s phone: lol i was gonna chastise u about texting and driving hoon

bread face: tch pls, i’m better than that 🙄

bread face: i would at least make yh!yn do my texts for me 🤪

Hyunjae glanced up just in time to see JC!Yn’s front door open to reveal Chanhee and Eric, along with their plus ones. He tongued the inside of his cheek, thinking offhandedly at the fact that so many of his friends had found people to be with. It felt like they were all growing up far too fast; even as a fourth-year in university, it was unimaginable. Where would they all be in ten years? Where would he be?

He hoped, at the very least, that he might see you in his future—one way or another. As long as he could pull his shit together and finally talk to you.

hyunjae’s phone: almost everyone’s here btw r u guys close??

bread face: yeah, pulling up one block over so they don’t see hak’s car

bread face: hey, do yk if yn’s coming today?

Hyunjae’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard, then he typed in the clear answer: no, not a clue. I have a feeling she won’t be here though.

He tucked his phone away, looking over to see that JC!Yn’s roommate, Kei, had just stepped out of her room with a finished “Happy Birthday, Jacob” banner. “Hey, you need help with that?”

— ✶

The party was well under way, and suffice to say, the surprise party had been an entire success. Because Jacob was definitely not a fan of being jumpscared, it was good foresight that everyone was just in sight when he and Kevin opened the door. He had no clue that his partner had organized this for everyone and that everyone else was in on it. (Even Eric was able to keep the secret in the wraps, no doubt with the help of his significant other.) Almost all of his friends had brought along a plus-one, minus the singletons (himself, Juyeon, Kevin, and Sangyeon—though, that was still debatable) and Haknyeon and Sunwoo who’s significant others weren’t too close with the group just yet. It was a marvel that Younghoon’s girlfriend decided to come, too, but she said she would probably leave early anyway.

“You’re so sad-looking,” said Juyeon as he hopped onto the island counter next to Hyunjae. The two of them could scope out the whole apartment from this vantage point; the mood seemed to be at an all-time high, despite it being an incredibly stressful week for everyone.

Hyunjae made an indignant noise and he lifted his plastic cup of soda to his lips. “Pfft. I’m not sad-looking.”

Juyeon gave a meager shrug. “Every time you see someone and their partner, you look like your puppy just got taken.”

“That’s—” he stammered in protest, “—that’s not true. I—I just keep thinking about my arch capstone, that’s all! School is ruining my life.” The lie was so stark that even Hyunje winced to himself.

“Ah, well, I can relate to that,” his friend sighed. The two gazed out at the party, their ears perking up when they heard Sangyeon say something about him and Jacob needing to step outside for Jacob’s birthday gift—whatever that meant. Hyunjae and Juyeon exchanged strange looks with one another, before bursting into laughter.

Not even a few minutes had passed before Jacob and Sangyeon walked back into the apartment with everyone’s curiosity piqued. Jacob had on the best poker face that he could muster, his lips pressed together but a muscle in the corner of his mouth twitching upward like he was either trying not to laugh or smile.

“Well?” Kevin was the first to voice. He, along with everyone else over at the couch, leaned over the back of the furniture, their eyes wide like dogs waiting for a treat. Hyunjae and Juyeon probably looked similar from their perches.

“He asked for proof of my girlfriend,” Sangyeon said as he closed the front door behind him.

Hyunjae snorted, catching a slight glare from the eldest in the room. For however long, their friend group had an ongoing inside joke that Sangyeon pretended to have a “secret girlfriend.” It was only because Sangyeon had never once provided concrete proof, and maybe it was because he purposefully withheld it, but Hyunjae simply couldn’t understand why. Thus, the hilarious teasing of their eldest friend. Nonetheless, Hyunjae and everyone else remained curious as to the truth.

“Well then?” Juyeon pressed, “What’s the verdict, Cobie?”

The smile on his face really couldn’t be suppressed anymore, and it looked so close to a smirk. Jacob grinned, strolling over to the couch to resume his place between his best friend and girlfriend. “No comment.”

The room erupted into a loud groan from seemingly everyone. “What kind of answer—”

Even Sangyeon looked frustrated and his eyebrows furrowed together, paired with a slight parting of his lips. “Birthday Boy has so much audacity today. Dude, I literally showed you—”

At the sound of the doorbell tone, everyone paused. Hyunjae hopped off the counter, chirping, “I’ll get it!”

No one was opposed to Hyunjae opening the door as everyone else engaged in a battle of wits commenting on Jacob's refusal to confirm nor deny the existence of a future Mrs. Lee Sangyeon. Hyunjae reached the front door and peered through the peephole curiously—then stiffened.

You stood on the other side, your hands fidgety as you played around with the little gift bag in your hands, no doubt for Jacob.

He could hardly believe his eyes—you actually came.

He opened the door without much else left to do. Your gazes clashed in the front threshold of JC!Yn's apartment, your breaths leaving your lungs at the sight of the other. Hyunjae swallowed; he hated this tension, hated the way he couldn't just wind his arms around you as easily as he had done before. The palpitations of his heart were teetering on dangerous territory, and he chalked it up to the fact that he was nervous he might be making you uncomfortable.

"Hey, come in," he murmured low but soft, stepping aside to give you space. He barely registered the background noise at this point.

"Thanks," you said back, your voice barely audible. You stepped out of your shoes and nudged them toward the massive pile by the shoe rack, like an ocean of footwear wherein one must play a matching game in order to leave. You coughed, "Uhm, is there a place where I can put this?" You lifted your gift bag half-heartedly.

"Oh, I can put it—" he automatically reached out for it, and when his fingers grazed against yours, the two of you jolted, "—away," he stammered. You let go of it so he could quickly grab hold and make his very awkward escape.

He dipped into JC!Yn's room where all the presents were being stashed, allowing himself to soak in a bit of quiet, even if he could still hear the muffled party just outside the room. That had to be the worst thing ever. Why was he so jumpy around you? It couldn't be that you professed your being in love with him, right? He wished it wasn't like this.

He needed to talk to you, damn it, he needed to fix this—

But when he emerged from the room and into the main living space, he saw you chatting with YH!Yn and Kevin and Changmin. He watched you smile at them and laugh and look way less awkward than you'd been with him just a minute ago. He remembered what this week was, what Friday was.

Opening night: the culmination of months' worth of blood, sweat, and tears.

He'd been there for you since the beginning of it. He couldn't see you fail, and this was the first time he'd seen you not stressed. He didn't have the heart to ruin that for you right now.

So instead of marching up to you and requesting an audience, he made his way over to a few of his other friends to join whatever conversation they were having. He would fix things when you didn't have five thousand other things to worry about. Today wasn't about him, after all.

EPISODE TWELVE: CALL TIME, BABY!

TONIGHT was the night. You thought you were going to throw up, to be honest, and you gently sipped on an iced caramel macchiato to keep your energy up. Perhaps the caffeine was making you just a little jittery, but it was probably the nerves—

"Yn!"

"Yeah, what's up?" You exclaimed, stopping in your tracks and just barely dodging the pair of stagehands hustling a backdrop past you.

Jihoon gestured wide with his arms. "Where are you going? Preshow's in seven minutes."

Oh, right. Your eyes widened in incredulity at your absentmindedness and practically jogged over to Jihoon and the other end of the corridor that led back toward backstage, instead of wherever the fuck you were off to… "Sorry," you muttered, waving vaguely to your head, "dunno what's up with me right now. Is everyone ready? Everything in place?"

He nodded, his eyes leaving you for a second while someone said something to him in his headset. "Ugh, shit. We can't find SW!Yn—ever since she got that boyfriend of hers—"

Your hands flapped between the two of you as you nodded your head vigorously—yeah, it was definitely the caffeine. "She's probably in the sound booth with Chan and the others. She's not that boy crazy."

Jihoon made an unconvinced expression, but bid you farewell nonetheless. He probably knew more than you did, but that was expected since you weren't exactly a long-term staff member working backstage. Jihoon ran a tight ship; there was no way anyone would risk a Jihoon stare by saying hi to their significant other.

You held your head in your hand and set your drink down on one of the stools by the edge of the room so it wouldn't get knocked over. Tonight was Opening Night—the night. Tonight, there was a full house, including your friends and family, everyone at school, and about a dozen or so industry experts. The latter weren't just here for you, but for your acting peers, as well. This was a critical night for everyone. It absolutely had to go right.

You shifted the headset on top of your head and made your way back down the corridor. You were far too antsy to just stay in one spot.

"—can one of you go check Jess's hair and makeup—no, don't just rip it, hon, that's not how it works!" You recognized that anguished cry anywhere, and you peered into the dressing room Hongjoong and a swarm of other busy people were.

"What's going on?" You asked.

Hongjoong's head whipped around so fast you were surprised he didn't get whiplash. "Yn, thank God! You know how to braid?"

"Jess still needs hair and makeup?"

"Yes, one of my people had to call out sick—thanks Yn-ie!" You were already on your way to find where Jess was before he had finished his sentence. You'd hardly even processed the fact that one of the costume staff had to call out sick—that wasn't your main concern right now—you literally had less than five minutes to locate Jess and yeet yourself backstage.

The sound in your headset sparked to life. "Sound to Yn, Yn to sound. Can you hear me?" Bang Chan's voice echoed into your ears.

You narrowly got beheaded by a portion of the wedding arch coming down the hallway. "Loud and clear; fuck, it's a mess back here, Chan." God, your head hurt and the play hadn't even begun yet.

"Hey, man. Take a little breath, okay? Yeah, there you go."

You sucked in a very large breath of air. The adrenaline was pumping through your veins and your hands suddenly felt very cold. "Hyunjae usually helped me through opening nights," you exhaled, your head swerving left and right as you checked each room for Jess's presence. "Where is she?"

"I know, Yn," he said gently. "You can do this though. I know you can. You've been waiting for this for four years—hell, even longer than that."

Your head bobbed up and down as if he could see you—oh shit, was that her you just saw?

"He's probably sitting in one of those velvet seats, absolutely pumped for you."

"Even though I completely fucked up our friendship?" You choked out, flagging Jess down. The poor girl looked frantic as she was trying to finish her stage makeup while also braiding her hair. There was no way she could do both, but you admired the attempt. You began to help her out with her hair as she used her phone as a mirror.

"I don't know what happened, Yn, but he loves you too much to not be here tonight."

It was suddenly very difficult to swallow.

"Preshow in two. Are you ready for this, Director Ln?"

You finished the braid, snapping the elastic with a crisp thwip. Tapping Jess to let her know she was good to go, you made an immediate reverse maneuver to backstage. You took a deep breath in once more—held it—

Get your head in the game. Chan was right—you'd been waiting for this for far too long, worked far too hard. You needed to put faith in your abilities and your peers. "Let's do this."

When you returned to the main backstage portion, you found techies ready to go, as well as your main cast. You caught Younghoon's eyes, silently asking for him to round up Eunwoo while you got Sana and Miyeon. Quickly, the five of you met in the middle.

"Everyone feeling okay?" You asked them, making eye contact with each and every one of them.

There was a buzz about the air, both nervous and excited. You could feel it in the way your hands shook, but you reminded yourself this was what you lived for. Someone, probably Chan, gave you the one minute warning.

"We're gonna do great out there," Younghoon affirmed.

"And when in doubt," Miyeon chimed in, "just improvise."

A small chuckle rang out, and you could hear the countdown in your ear. You had to go out on stage and greet everyone.

"Okay, I got my cue," you said to them. "Break a leg, everyone. Chins up, alright?"

"You too, Yn," Younghoon said to you with a pointed look.

A smile graced your face then, and something settled within your chest—finally—something like a calm. "I will."

— ✶

The only reason why Hyunjae knew how expensive flowers were was because he was well-versed in the nature of presenting you with them after each production you'd completed, whether that be through theater or film. It was all standard practice, and he couldn't believe Sunwoo had the audacity to argue with him and his girlfriend about when to send flowers backstage.

Flowers were to be withheld from reaching the actor, staff, or director until the end of the performance. It was just one of those other superstitious things.

So here he was, sitting shoulder to shoulder between Juyeon and a stranger, with a lap full of vibrant blooms in what he thought were the best seats in the house: the lower balcony seats. They were probably his favorite place to get a proper view of the stage while also not being as high as the top balcony and seeing the top of actors' heads. Maybe it was the child in him that liked anything concerning the balcony.

The play had been going strong for the entire run time. You had come out on stage at the very beginning to welcome everyone and thank them for coming tonight. All the relevant information about the play could be found in the playbills that were handed out at the door, and he had instinctively flipped through each page until he could confirm your name and Younghoon's were there. That had definitely brought a smile to his face.

But even now, as the play was coming to an end and the main characters ended up happy together, Hyunjae still couldn't get the smile off his face.

At curtain call, all the actors lined up on stage to take their bows. When you came out to gesture to your acting peers and take your own bow, everyone in Hyunjae's row, especially himself, stood to give you the standing ovation you deserved. Hyunjae's eyes watered as he whooped and cheered and whistled as loud as he could since the flowers made it difficult to clap.

As he and everyone else sat back into their seats, he had to sneak a hand up to delicately wipe his right eye.

"That's my best friend," he said to no one in particular, his laugh watery but proud.

The woman next to him heard him, though. "She's incredible."

Hyunjae smiled at her, then turned his head toward the stage again where you were corralling the main cast in a massive hug onstage. "I know; she's amazing." I love her.

— ✶

The entire performing arts hall was in a state of utter pandemonium. Both the auditorium and the backstage areas were swarmed with people trying to get out of the building, trying to find their friends, and a butt load of other things. You and all the cast members began helping backstage crew take everything down and lock them up; after all, they would need to be preserved for the next two performances of the show that would carry on through the first couple of weeks of summer. Opening Night was only the "presentation" of your thesis.

Tomorrow was Commencement Day—there were a great handful of you graduating literally tomorrow, including yourself, and so you'd all resolved to go home and save the celebration for another night.

As you wandered through the corridors and dressing rooms, you were sure to congratulate everyone for their hard work tonight. Your cheeks ached from smiling, pride singing through your blood, as well as the lingering adrenaline. But you couldn't deny that you were relieved that the night had gone, and gone well.

Friends and family members of the cast and crew began trickling into the backstage area, so the space to roam lessened considerably.

Unbeknownst to you, Hyunjae had rushed back here faster than his friends could stop him, antsy to finally congratulate you and let you know how proud he was and how great the play was. He craned his head over the sea of people, half his bouquet no doubt squished, but he was still determined.

There—he spotted the blazer you wore on stage—but you were all the way at the end of the corridor. There was no easy way through the people, and who knew if you would leave before he could get to you.

"Yn!" He hollered over all the noise.

Like clockwork, your head whipped around from the stagehand you were speaking animatedly with in search of who had called your name. You locked gazes with him, and there was a softening in your features.

(In a crowded room, all I'd see is y—)

His heart leapt and his legs jump-started into high gear, murmuring out sorries as he maneuvered his way toward you. There were tears pricking at his vision; he never cried for anything or anyone, but you'd been the only one to draw such emotion from him. You were the only one who deserved that emotion.

"Jae, you're here," you breathed out, but then somebody tapped your shoulder and nodded in the direction from which you came.

He saw the concern on your face, the sense of responsibility, and yet the reluctance, as well. "Call me when you're done," he said. He mustered a smile, pushing the flowers into your dumbfounded hands. "Promise to call me."

You managed to nod. "Yeah," you swallowed, "thanks for coming tonight."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world."

EPISODE THIRTEEN: ALL THE WORLD'S OUR STAGE

A couple of hours later, you'd managed to express your gratitude to nearly everyone and their mother for their work and help, as well as convince Jihyo to answer any calls that came in regarding the play tonight. It was a big ask and you had been reluctant to ask that of her, but you also knew you needed to talk to Hyunjae.

You made your way out the back door of the performing arts hall and into the warm, early Summer night. There weren’t too many people still around since the only handful of people left in the performing arts center were all older staff members and faculty. You spotted Hyunjae leaning against the wall by the staircase, his gaze lifting from his phone when he sensed you coming toward him. A small smile curled onto his lips, and you realized how much you missed the sight of it.

“Hey, sorry you had to wait for a while,” you said as you approached.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. “No, don’t worry about it. The play was—it was incredible, Yn. I’m really proud of you.”

Those words struck you even harder than you imagined him saying he loved you back would have. It meant a lot coming from other people, but it meant the most coming from him. “Thanks,” you rasped, the emotion shining through your voice, and you had to consciously reign yourself in. “I’m really sorry for what happened. I shouldn’t have pushed you away like that, and I know that my confession was kind of unexpected.”

“You shouldn’t have to apologize for that, Yn,” he said gently, his teeth biting down on his lower lip slightly. “I’m the sorry one. I mean, it was so stupid that I even entertained the idea of Ellie being remotely correct. It was a breach of trust and I crossed a boundary that I shouldn’t have. For that, I’m so sorry.”

You motioned to the path leading down the stairs and toward a path even you knew not where it would lead the two of you tonight. Hyunjae heard your silent suggestion, and the two of you began descending the stairs together, side by side. “Maybe I thought I wasn’t ready at that moment,” you confessed, “but maybe it was what needed to be said, you know?”

When you glanced over at him, you found that he was already looking back at you, clinging onto every word that came out of your mouth.

Your heart rate was still rocketing into the atmosphere right now, but you knew that it wasn’t from the play. “I think that I needed to say that—no matter if I was ‘ready’ or not. I don’t think I would have ever been ready, but…” Your foot hit the bottom step of the stairs, and you turned on the ball of your feet to face him, guiding the two of you down the path and away from your normal direction toward the bus station. “Before you say anything, just hear me out, okay?”

Hyunjae gave a nod, and your heart stuttered in your chest as you forged onward. “You don’t have to affirm my feelings if you don’t feel the same way,” you said, returning to your normal position at his side, “I think that was why I’ve been so afraid of telling you all this time—that you wouldn’t feel the same. That, and the fact that I was scared that telling you would absolutely wreck our friendship like it did these past few weeks.”

From beside you, Hyunjae managed to keep quiet, but his voice was also jammed inside his throat. It was filled up with all the things he’d wanted to say to you first, all the things that he wanted to say in response to what you were telling him now.

“Ellie confronted me the week after our fallout.” Hyunjae stiffened—had she done anything to you? “She told me that she was the one behind all the ‘pranks’ or whatever throughout the play rehearsals.”

“Yn, those weren’t pranks,” Hyunjae couldn’t help but cut in, “it was plain sabotage.”

Sabotage. You’d come to fear labeling her actions with that word, simply because you didn’t want to believe that that was her true intention. You struggled to swallow, stopping in the middle of the walkway. The two of you faced each other then, his eyebrows pressed together in shock and anger and every emotion in between. “She told me she did it to get back at me.”

“For what?”

“I abandoned her,” you told him. That emotion on his face shuddered like ripples in a pool of water. “It’s neither of your faults either, but I guess what I thought was drifting away from her and becoming closer to you, she saw in a more malicious light. And she said that she’d been sick of living in my shadow despite not even being in my life, and I’ve just been thinking about that for a while.” You said you’d be there for her, that she’d always be enough for you… how ironic that you’d been the one to drift away.

Hyunjae peered at you, a mess of things going through his head. You couldn’t imagine what he was thinking about right now, but you knew he was never the best at expressing his emotions and vulnerabilities.

It was okay, though. He didn’t have to say anything. “In that moment, I cut off all ties with her,” you clarified, “when she told me it was all her doing. Now, I just feel a little sad; I wished she would’ve just said hi to me.”

Hyunjae wet his lips, grasping your shoulders to get your attention. “You know you didn’t deserve any of that, right? All that shit she gave you? I mean, she pretty much terrorized you, Yn, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

You wondered—no, you knew—he was probably beating himself up inside for the argument the two of you had, too. The combined force of all of those tough conversations, as well as the pressure from the play… “I’m okay, Jae,” you reassured him. This time, you even believed what you said. “I’m shaken, no doubt, but it’s something that will pass with time.”

In this lighting, he was beautiful, ethereal. The amber streetlight casted a heavenly glow upon him, and made his eyes glimmer like the moon off a still body of water. You’d written something like that description somewhere in the original script, and you realized just how intimately you’d projected your reality into the lines of that production. Perhaps one day, you’d have the strength to point them all out to him.

A thought suddenly occurred to you in the silence, and your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Oh my god.”

“What? What’s wrong—”

“I never got to see your finalized capstone project!” You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth in scandal. “Shit, the showcase for it was yesterday, wasn’t it? Oh shit, I’m awful—” For as supportive as Hyunjae had been with your final project, you had neglected to even think about his thesis these last weeks. Guilt coursed through your body in waves and you wanted to screech—

“Hey, honey,” he chuckled good-naturedly, “it’s okay. You were busy; don’t sweat it.” He bit his lip again, but it did nothing to suppress the shit-eating grin on his face. “Wanna go see it now? I’m sure they haven’t cleaned everything up yet.”

Your heart skipped for a new reason now. “You’re gonna break into the architecture building?” You laughed.

“It’s not breaking and entering if you have access,” he said in a “duh” tone, waving around his student ID.

As the two of you made a swift reverse back up the stairs from which you’d come from, you gaped at his ID card in disbelief. “I can’t believe they gave you clearance.”

He wrinkled his nose at you. “Why wouldn’t they grant their top student clearance on his last week?” He sniffed jokingly.

The pairing of dialogue and execution made a giggle sputter out of you, the sound making Hyunjae’s chest feel warm and fuzzy. He hated the tension that had wrapped itself around the bones of his ribcage, but those vines were slowly loosening and blooming into something familiar, and yet new.

The trek to the architecture building was well-worn by both you and him. You hadn’t been by the architecture building in awhile because of your busy schedule, but you used to always pop by to either walk him to lecture or to come visit him while he was working. The building was built in a Greco-Roman style with columns and arches, and beautifully carved marble murals and statues around the perimeter of the roof. You knew that the building style in particular was never Hyunjae’s taste, but you remembered when the two of you had toured the school in your senior year of high school, he had been awestruck nonetheless.

Just as he had said it would, his ID card slid against the panel outside the front doors to the architecture building and came up green.

The two of you, feeling just like you were kids again, giggled as you crept into the darkness of the foyer. Hyunjae grabbed your hand without thinking and dragged you down the right hallway toward one of the larger conference-style classrooms on the ground floor. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in case security came by and saw, but there was a conveniently-placed streetlight right outside the window anyway.

“There’s my masterpiece,” he said quietly, a sort of jitteriness coming through his voice.

You let go of his hand so you could inspect the model he constructed. The feature piece seemed to be the massive clear dome on the top, as well as the smaller, surrounding establishments. “It’s amazing, Jae. This is so cool.”

He almost looked shy as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest and watched you. “Ah, thanks. It’s, uh, a proposed model for a new performing arts department.”

Your head turned to him then. “No way.”

“Yes way,” he smiled. “I don’t know if it’ll get taken up by the board or not, but I gave them my whole spiel yesterday.”

“You’re gonna give me the spiel, too, right?”

Hyunjae made a face, feigning reluctance, but you were already dragging one of the chairs over so you could sit for his little presentation. “I mean, I guess I remember enough to do it again.” He took up his rightful place right next to his model, in front you, and cleared his throat to give you his speech.

The speech went wonderfully; you cheered as quietly loud as you possibly could. Your face was split by a bright smile that you were sure was enough to power the lights in this building if you really wanted to. If the board didn’t take up Hyunjae’s proposed new model after that, then you were about to send a strongly worded letter to the dean.

Hyunjae took on a boyish sort of smile after the moment had come and gone. “Hey, you wanna see something cool?”

“Cooler than this?”

“Pfft,” he dismissed nonchalantly, “you flatter me. But yeah, actually. Come on—it’s on the second floor.”

You quickly shoved your chair back into place and followed Hyunjae as he practically ran out of the room and up the stairs to the second floor. He had far too much energy for it being around ten o’clock at night, but when you saw the absolute glow on his face when he took you from project to project, gushing and nerding out about all the clever designs, you didn’t have the energy to even question his energy. There was something utterly contagious about hearing him talk about his major with such passion; you were so glad he had found a home in this field.

When the two of you finally let yourselves out of the architecture building, it was probably around an hour later. Your body ached with exhaustion, but your brain was abuzz with activity. You had missed this, missed him so much. For the first time in a very long time, you had never felt this carefree before.

“Can you believe we’re actually graduating tomorrow?” You asked him as the two of you walked toward the direction of the street your town house was on.

Hyunjae snorted. “No, not at all,” he said with a shake of his head. “Well, I’m actually so glad that I’m finally getting out of here, but it’s kind of scary, too.”

You gave a nod, then tilted your head back to breathe in the comfortable, night air. There were stars up in the sky tonight. “Yeah, I get that. Like, where will we all be, y’know?”

“Right.”

“But I think that the unknown in general will always be scary,” you added. “In the end, we’ll always know that everything will turn out okay.”

“And if it’s not okay, then it isn’t the end yet,” Hyunjae replied with a pointed look.

“Exactly.” You had a few options lined up for you after graduation, but you’d told yourself beforehand that you would deal with all of that after commencement day. After months and years of working nonstop, you deserved a little rest before fully stepping into the adult world. Wow, what a scary thought, indeed. "I'm proud of you, Hyunjae."

He had to stop himself from breaking down right there. "I'm proud of you, too, Yn."

The walk home was quiet, but it was as if a layer of film had been laid over just you and Hyunjae. The white noise of the night became somewhat calming for you, and you felt yourself sinking into a state of serenity. You had confessed your love for him already—he finally knew how you felt—but funny enough, that was freeing.

That had been your biggest secret, and finally being able to lift that burden from your chest was… it was good. Everything was good now.

Hyunjae softly said, "I know that you probably have so much to do after graduation tomorrow, but we've always wanted to go on a road trip cross-country."

When you looked up over at him, he could read the excitement glittering in your irises. "You're right! Man, that conversation was so long ago. I mean… I won't be so busy after graduation, not immediately. I want time to enjoy freedom with you," you laughed, lightly punching his shoulder.

He chuckled, your words soaking into his skin like sunlight on the first warm day after a harsh winter season. "I think it'd be nice, just the two of us." He couldn't wait.

There was an earnestness in the way you looked at him then. His thoughts had been all over the place before, but now, they were beginning to clear. "I think that'd be nice, too."

Your townhouse was now in sight, and a distinct feeling of anxiety rose in his throat. It was bitter-tasting, the way he dreaded leaving you for the night even if he would most definitely see you again tomorrow. He didn't know why inviting himself in like he usually did was so difficult now, but suddenly, you were both standing in the middle of the entryway and you were getting your keys from your bag.

It was late; he shouldn't keep you up. You'd had a long day.

"—you tomorrow then. Thanks for tonight, Jae."

He wrapped his arms around you just as you hugged him, his face pressed against the crown of your head and yours pressed into his shoulder. He didn't want to let go, but it was late—

"Good night," he said, nearly inaudibly.

"'Night," you said, going into the house and closing the door.

Maybe it was the physical, literal visual of you closing the door on him, but the epiphany hit him like a bus.

EPISODE FOURTEEN: AAAND THAT'S A WRAP!

YOU were about five steps from dropping to the floor and sleeping for about five years. Of course, you could not do that because you literally had to wake up to graduate tomorrow, but right this moment, you were so excited to just face plant into your pillow.

Tap!

The first time, you hadn't even heard the tiny noise as you shuffled into your attic bedroom and set your bag on the floor at the foot of your bed.

TAP!

Actually, you hadn't even heard it the second time—

BONK!

"What the…" Your head whirled around toward the window. You could have sworn you heard something hit the window pane. Cautiously, you walked up to the glass and peered out into the darkened street. It was a little difficult to see given the contrast between the light of your bedroom, the dark of night, and the fogging acrylic pane—

You nearly screeched as a small pebbled hit the window, right where your face would have been. What the fuck—?

Immediately, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. Could this have been Ellie trying to spook you again? No way, right? Plus, wasn't Hyunjae just walking by?...

Oh, wait.

With a huff of indignation, you wrestled with the latch on the window pane just as another tiny rock came flying at the glass. "Hold your horses," you muttered, finally managing to haul the dusty window up. You only ever really opened this window during the warmer months, and so you hadn't used it since probably late fall quarter.

You stuck your head out the window, and surprise surprise, Hyunjae was tossing another piece of ammo up and down in his palm, down at street level. "What is wrong with you?" You stage whispered.

His mouth curved into a frown, head tilting, eyebrows furrowing. "What?"

"What," you repeated firmer this time, "is wrong with you?"

"I needed to get your attention," he shrugged.

"You couldn't just text?"

"Isn't this what Romeo did?"

Clearly, someone hadn't been paying attention when you were studying for your classes on Shakespeare in both high school and second year of college. "No," you quipped, "and Romeo was stupid."

Hyunjae sighed, reaching up to cup the back of his neck, dropping the pebble in his hand to the ground. "Okay, so maybe I'm not some Romeo—" You weren't quite sure where he was going with this.

He started walking around, pacing the sidewalk in front of your townhouse since he couldn't stand directly below the window (your roommate would kill him if he killed her azaleas). For a moment, you were ready to go down there yourself and shake the words from him, but it seemed he was able to snap himself into focus.

"I just… it's taken me a long time—god, it always takes me a long time to come up with the words for this type of stuff," he stumbled over his words, and you felt yourself grow increasingly tender. He was never good at wearing his heart on his sleeve. "And my friends have been saying it this whole time—hell, I've probably been aware of it unconsciously this whole time, too! But you know how I am. I'm too damn stubborn to cave, even to myself."

You let him continue on without breaking his monologue. Though you couldn't be too sure what this was, your heart still galloped in hope.

"Yn, I'm—" he said, head tilting back to meet your eyes so you could see those beautiful irises of his, "—I'm in love with you, too."

This was really happening, huh? Your fingers curled around the window sill and you opened your mouth in an effort to say something, but then you closed it. The words and the thoughts were there, but it was so foggy in your mind that you couldn't even string the words together yourself either.

You watched the hope, the light, gradually fade from his expression, even if he wasn't actively trying to show it. "Please tell me to go home if you're not gonna say anything," he said to you next. "I know you're tired, but god, I just stood here and realized I wouldn't be able to sleep if I didn't tell you. I know it's selfish, but…" He lifted his hands in sort of a helpless gesture, his hands then falling limp at his sides.

Finally, you found your voice. You cleared your throat, then asked quietly, albeit a tad nervously, "This—this isn't just because you feel bad about what I said about not reciprocating, right? I mean, higher levels of excitement and arousal can be misattributed to feelings sometimes—"

Hyunjae shook his head. "Dear god, no. I've just been… I've just been really stupid, so, uhm, maybe I am like Romeo?"

You fought the smile on your face, but it seemed you lost the battle. "Silly goose," you teased, laughing as you shook your head. "You ain't no Romeo, Lee Jaehyun, but I've never wanted anyone but you anyway."

He broke into a laugh at that, the sound echoing in the streets, and it sounded like, if one could bottle up pure delight and release it to the world. "You're so much better at this than me."

"Clearly."

"Well," he bit his lip, his smile impish, "can I kiss you to make up for it?"

Oh, there went your heart—there it went, carrying you down the stairs and out the door—you would have leapt out the window if you were physically able (you weren't). Your heart carried you all the way outside again until you arrived in your best friend's arms, his face, his smile illuminated in the soft glow of the streetlight.

And he held you so tight, you couldn't tell if that beating at your chest was his heart or yours. The two of you wasted no time in pressing your mouths to the other, tasting the other's smile in one more way than you'd ever done before.

It felt, at that moment, that this might have marked act three of one part of your life—but act one of the next was just beginning.

Perhaps it was true then: when it counted, you always went back to your first love.

a/n: heyy thank you for reading thru!! i hope u enjoyed and if u did, pls do consider commenting, reblogging, or sending an ask :] we do love a bit of humility in the end ayo :3 the original plan is to go for sunwoo's next o7

permanent taglist: @tayunji @im-a-big-mess @honeyhuii @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ethereal-engene @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @justalildumpling @hyunjaespresent-deobi @hongyangi @pxppxrminty @nerdypastacalzonespy @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @jcmdoll @kflixnet

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[castielli]

Quarterback!Sangyeon x Student President!Male reader

Request by @leedosbunnyboy sorry it took so long! 🥹 (didn’t reread that tbh, sorry if it’s weird)

Sangyeon walked in the halls, rushing towards the cafeteria. He cleaned his sweaty, trembling palms on his jeans, before opening the cafeteria’s doors. He scanned the big, crowded room, looking for his friends. His search didn’t take long as he noticed a loud table full of boys. He walked quickly towards them, fixing his jacket before sitting down next to Jacob.

“I saw him in the halls” are the first words he said to his friends.

The rest of the boys laughed at him, some patting his back. The rest of the students turned to look at the loud group, sighing as they are used to their chaos.

“Not even a ‘hello!” Changmin said from the other side of the table, still laughing at his friend. By now, all of them knew every detail about your life and how much Sangyeon is head over heels for you.

Sangyeon sighed loudly “I can’t do this…” he said as he placed his head on the cold surface of the table in front of him.

His friends tried to not burst out laughing again, some covering their mouths while some others almost seemed to be exploding.

“Get your ass up, walk up to him and ask! It’s not that difficult dude…” Hyunjae said as he looked exasperated and tired of the constant topic of their conversations being you.

“I can’t just walk up to him! What if he finds me weird? What if his friends laugh at me? What if he rejects me? What if-“ Sangyeon kept on listing, his friends rolling their eyes and mumbling about how stupid Sangyeon is.

- two days after -

Kevin and Jacob stood behind some lockers with Sangyeon, waiting for you to arrive. They looked attentively around, trying to spot you. It didn’t take long. There you were, walking towards their hiding spot with your friends.

Sangyeon’s face was combusting, his hands were sweating, his legs felt like jelly.

As soon as you passed near them, Jacob and Kevin pushed Sangyeon towards you. He turned back to scream at his friends, when he noticed you were looking at him confused.

“Uh…hi, Y/N” Sangyeon said as he scratched the back of his neck, trying to not look into your deep eyes.

You just smiled, some of your friends laughing at the scene. “Hi, Sangyeon” you said as you waited for him to speak up.

“Uhm, I was wondering if-“ before Sangyeon could finish, he felt a cold sensation on his body, he looked down at his white t-shirt, noticing a brown, big spot on it.

You looked at him, trying not to laugh, covering your mouth as you took a tissue out of your pocket, trying to clean up Sangyeon’s shirt.

He looked down at your hand on his body, his face becoming so red and hot you could see smoke coming out of his ears.

You could hear some other students laughing at the scene before their eyes, and Sangyeon could too, of course. He felt so embarrassed and stupid…he ran away. He started to run so fast towards a bathroom trying to hide from everyone, but mostly you.

He knew it was a bad idea. He knew it! He just embarrassed himself in front of you.

- the next day -

His friends somehow convinced to try again. So now he started walking towards the student council room, waiting for you to come out after your meeting. He held his phone in his hands as he kept on waiting for that damn bell to ring, which finally happened some seconds later.

Some students started walking out, and you did the same, walking the opposite way of where Sangyeon was standing. He started following you, when he noticed a girl stopped you. He watched from afar, trying to listen to your conversation.

“Wanna go to prom with me…?” The girl asked you, smiling and looking down at the floor, too embarrassed to keep the eye contact.

Sangyeon felt sick, he failed. Again. He walked away, not even wanting to hear your answer, seeing the smile on your face as you looked at that random girl.

- the day after -

Sangyeon sat on a bench, fixing his shoes as he got ready for the match. He sighed thinking about what happened the day before. He hates it.

“Stop thinking about him, you need to be ready for this” Eric said as he patted Sangyeon’s back. The only response he got was a sad nod from the quarterback.

The venue was loud, all the students excited to watch the match against the rival school. Sangyeon honestly didn’t care.

At least until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He sighed, thinking it was Eric, but he was proved wrong when he raised his head to see you smiling down at him.

“Good luck!” You said as you messed his hair with your hand, smiling at his confused and red face. You chuckled as you handed him a small, folded paper, before walking away.

The only thing he could read without opening it was ‘open only if you win’.

And guess what happened? Sangyeon and the rest of the team played so well they destroyed the other school.

As soon as the team finished cheering, the quarterback quickly opened the paper, reading:

‘Come to prom with me? [yes] [yes]’

[byuntrash101]

the boyz masterlist

disclaimer: everything is smut, mdni. everything is idol x fem!reader

✲ multiple members

what you deserve | 4.2k — gentle dom!juyeon, mean dom!hyunjae

your bf younghoon is just a dick... your best friends just want to show you what you deserve

✲ lee hyunjae

gryffindor cockiness | 1.7k — hogwarts!au, brat tamer!hyunjae

how can a ravenclaw be that much like a gryffindor... that's something you will never understand

30 secs in heaven | 3.7k — college!au, sub!hyunjae, mean dom!reader

turns out the campus' fuckboy is nothing more than a pathetic virgin that cums way too fast

✲ lee juyeon

get you alone | 1.6k — college!au, gentle dom!juyeon

a professor shouldn't be craving her student that way but juyeon doesn't take no for an answer and you are about ready to give in...

✲ kim sunwoo

final lap | 2.4k — racer!au, hard dom!sunwoo

after a race there's only one thing that can ease sunwoo's nerves...

[bandhyukoh]

undefined

221222 Hyunjae in Abyss' ig story

[hcuyk]

OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

SYNOPSIS ✧ despite being your greatest archnemesis/rival/enemy/frenemy/whateverthefuck he was, hyunjae had always been by your side. that changed when your boyfriend was brought up, creating a newfound rift in your whateverthefuck relationship with hyunjae

PAIRING ✧ rival!hyunjae x fem!reader

GENRE ✧ high school au, enemies to fwb, angst, smut, fluff(?), humor(?) (these mfs bicker a lot), pining

WARNINGS ✧ 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT — cheating, profanity, mentions of physical fight/bruises, underaged drinking, obsessive/possessive hyunjae : NSFW TAGS :  outdoor/semipublic sex, dubcon recording, spit/drool/tears, oral and fingering (fem receiving), penetration, scratching/ripping, humping, minimal praise, degradation, sub!hyunjae for 0.002 seconds, petnames (princess, good girl, babe/baby, slut)

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

⋮≡ [ OUR INFERNO EXCLUSIVE ] @deoboyznet @flwoie @sanaxo-o — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

. . . . . . OUR INFERNO M.LIST ✩ next [ TWO ]

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie @winterchimez — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

THE BOYZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : in honor of my three years of officially stanning the boyz on this very day, let's celebrate with my smut debut and writing comeback 😋 enjoy my loves

PART ONE: CHASING THE SPARK (THE FIRE TETRAHEDRON) — fuel, oxygen, and heat | CHAPTER ONE

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

“Who the fuck does Hyunjae actually think he is?”

Unphased by your up-and-coming rage rant, Kevin resumed snacking on the protein bar he had brought with him. He tossed his free arm over the camera equipment and backpacks sitting next to him on the bench, watching you stride back and forth within one of the many hallways in the recreational center. 

“Well, he is your boss.”

“No, he’s the student executive producer,” you corrected, your legs unwavering as you kept a consistent pace to release your frustrations. Kevin shrugged and tossed one leg over the other, staying relaxed despite the hot fumes emanating from your upright and angered figure. You paused momentarily to look him in the eye. 

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

Baffled at how he was defending your greatest archnemesis (well, more like your greatest frenemy), you ignored his rebuttal and started pacing again. Your steps slowed as you envisioned the sensations you experienced just minutes before, back when you, Kevin, and Hyunjae were at the indoor pool to report for your school’s broadcasting channel. Technically, you were the one reporting and filming while Hyunjae was the subject of interest, and Kevin was there for physical support. 

Chills latched onto your skin as you remembered what it felt like to have Hyunjae’s bare torso looming over you, his eyes peering over your shoulder to glance at your footage. While staring at the camera, his gentle, irregular breaths would continuously hit your skin. Water from the pool would trickle down his hair and into your shirt, reaching your backside. When it happened, you could barely comprehend Hyunjae’s ‘advice’ and instead focused on feeling every cold droplet travel through the crevasses created by your spine. You winced at the thought of that happening again, yet somehow you could still hear his irritating voice near your ear, telling you all the reasons why your B-roll of his lap swimming was ‘trash’ and ‘unusable.’

For a moment, you stood there in the hallway frozen, unsure of how to move, before realizing you were just reliving a moment from earlier and that Hyunjae was still in the locker room changing.

“I’m going to make a complaint,” you declared, turning back towards Kevin for his encouragement. Alternatively, you were met with the sight of your best friend completely failing to conceal his judgment and disapproval towards your suggestion.

“Against Hyunjae? You gotta be kidding, right?”

“Yes,” you answered confidently. “Wait, I mean no, I’m not kidding, but yes, against Hyunjae.”

Kevin eyed you skeptically, trying to decipher why you felt threatened enough to report someone like Hyunjae. You may not have spent all your previous years in high school with an affinity for Hyunjae, but it wasn’t like you hated him either—not in the way you truly loathed others. If that were the case, you wouldn’t spend nearly every day with him, bickering until the sun chose to set.

“Sure, maybe my B-roll was trash, I can attest to that, but that does not give his bitchass the right to not only shit on how ‘awful’ I was doing, but also yank the camera out of my hands and delete all the footage I got because they weren’t ‘perfect enough.’ What kind of psycho is that?” You glanced over at Kevin, trying once again to get him to back you up, but the most he gave was a slight nod. Everything you were spurting was half-mindedly being decoded because he had ended up placing more significance on inhaling protein. Regardless, you continued.

“And you would think, hey! As the student executive producer of a high school broadcasting team, he would understand that no! I indeed do not record half-naked people swimming in a pool, whether it be for a career or a hobby. He should also at least have the decency to not swim seven hundred miles per minute while I’m recording. Of course I’m not going to catch up, especially when he barely told me how he wanted things to be recorded? Isn’t he fucking insane for that? Not to mention all the goddamn splashing because of how fucking long his limbs are—”

“You’re explaining this like I didn’t witness the whole exchange,” Kevin grumbled.

“And you would think he knows, right? That Mr. Executive-slash-Captain-of-the-Swim-Team should either be more considerate when, A, he’s kicking water in my direction when he’s swimming or, B, station me away from the edge of the pool? Just a thought, but fuck me, I guess.”

“Well yeah, but the—”

“Also! Not to mention the camera has the fucking ability to zoom in, so why was there even a need for me to stand by the pool anyway?” You scoffed at the absurdity, almost tempted to cackle like a villain because of it. “The least he could do was tell me how to record it or find a way to adjust and compromise without occasionally soaking me with water on purpose, which I know damn well he was—”

“That’s just how-”

“We have a tripod, for god’s sake!” you exclaimed. By now, Kevin had given up on providing you with his input. He opted to rest against the wall, finishing up whatever he had left of the protein bar, and occasionally would roll his eyes.

“But even then, who the fuck wants to see him swim anyway? We’ll probably only need like…what? A minute of the footage for the B-roll? So why the hell is he treating it like it’s about to be nominated by the goddamn Oscars for Best Picture? He just loves to nitpick and control me like a fucking puppet—”

“Keep talking and you’ll potentially strain your throat,” a new voice interrupted.

You jerked around to find Hyunjae, the culprit of your rant, exiting the locker room with a small duffle bag that contained both his swim gear and his school clothes from earlier in the day. His brown hair was only halfway dry, some strands still stuck to his forehead as he approached where you were pacing.

You halted in your path and stared him down. Hyunjae immediately caught onto the mood you were in, and instead of being shocked or hurt, he grinned.

“You.” 

Your attempt at threatening him with one word made Hyunjae laugh.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

“Oh here we go again,” Kevin mumbled, tossing the wrapper of the protein bar to the side. He pulled out his phone and went on TikTok, deciding it was more worthy of his attention than listening to you two banter—something he had been experiencing for well over five years.

As a mutual friend of yours and Hyunjae’s since middle school, Kevin understood the frenemy dynamic better than either of you. Eventually, over the long years he had known you both, he learned to leave you two be. 

“What about me, though? Are you going to try and tattletale on me?” Hyunjae feigned sympathy as he gave you an exaggerated pout, tilting his head like a puppy’s. “C’mon. I’m just doing my job.”

“Sorry, but I don’t remember ‘being a dick’ being listed under the requirements for your oh-so-important position of power.” You huffed at him and crossed your arms, choosing to face elsewhere as you rooted the soles of your feet to the ground.

Hyunjae furrowed his brows, his eyes never leaving you, as he addressed the third party within the shared space.

“Kevin, was I being a dick, or is Y/N exaggerating?”

Kevin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Hyunjae in annoyance.

“Don’t even try to bring me into whatever…this mess is.”

“No, tell him,” you demanded, now looking at him. Your glare was enough to burn Kevin into ashes, but it was nothing compared to Hyunjae’s gaze piercing into your back. Knowing that he never looked away made you shiver, hating how fixated he seemed to be—and seemingly without reason too.

“Listen, I wasn’t being a dick. I was treating you the same way I treat everyone else. I’d honestly argue that you’re just narcissistic and think everything is about you when—”

“Oh wow, thank you for admitting that you’re a dick to everyone else!” You tossed your hands up for dramatic appeal as you spun back around to look at him. He scoffed, but his demeanor was quickly shadowed by a smirk that appeared on his lips, testing you with the arch of his brow.

“Oh really? Do you see anyone else complaining?”

“I’m complaining,” Kevin muttered.

“People don’t complain because they’re scared of you, Sherlock,” you retorted. At this point, Hyunjae had already caught onto your bullshit of making evidence up, and it was why this exchange ended up lasting for as long as it did. Nevertheless, his ego continued to build the more you spoke.

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

“Why should I? You’re nothing.” You approached him and pressed a finger into his chest, taunting him as you stared straight into his eyes.

Suddenly a competition seemed to have materialized because now you both were locking eyes, too stubborn to look away. 

“One day you’ll wake up and realize your position doesn’t mean shit. You take it too seriously and make everyone’s job your job when this should be a learning experience for the rest of us.”

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

“And it’s also starting to sound like jealousy to me.” Hyunjae’s eyes finally shifted, but instead of looking away from you like you initially wanted him to, you trailed his line of sight down to your lips. He eyed them shamelessly—technically making you win the unspoken eye contact competition, but at what cost? “I won’t believe you until I receive firm evidence and testimonies from the other students in the club, then maybe I’ll consider your concerns. Deal?”

What you despised most was how well Hyunjae knew and provoked you to get under your skin. He was a raging flame, making your blood boil from both irritation and excitement. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, but after nearly six years of banter with Hyunjae, you knew damn well you enjoyed every second of it. It was like a nonstop competition, and you were always on the edge of winning.

Maybe it was also because you were so used to him constantly being above you. He was the president of the student council, the swim team’s captain, and specifically the one who snatched the executive position away from you in the broadcasting team, yet somehow you were still able to compete at his level of arrogance and egotism. 

Even though you may never be able to top him in the foreseeable future, you at least knew how to match his fury—his fire, with your own.

“You’re pathetic.” You took a few steps back to gain some distance while his eyes flickered back up to yours. He bit his lip playfully, his smile only growing even wider.

“Woah, Y/N. Exposing my degradation kink so soon?”

“I-...you- w-what?!” you sputtered, your jaw falling slack as Kevin’s head snapped up, staring at the two of you in disgust.

“Get a room—!”

“I’m going to make sure you get degraded from your position, you freak!”

“Not exactly how that word works, princess, but I’m glad you’re at least passionate.” His cooing made you want to slap the living shit out of him, your eyes protruding from their sockets are you glared. 

“Are you fucking bricked up or something right now—?”

“Hey guys,” a woman’s voice called out. Your heads turned to look at the end of the hallway, catching one of the recreational center’s workers waving in your general direction. She pressed her lips together and smiled, attempting to be as professional and understanding as possible. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but is it okay if you guys turn it down a notch?”

You and Hyunjae both nodded and whispered apologies, feeling like kids who just got scolded for shoving paintbrushes down the drain. Fortunately, the worker’s smile radiated genuine warmth and consideration, providing you some sort of reassurance that you guys weren’t too much of a disturbance (even though you guys totally were).

“You two are the most childish fuckers I know,” Kevin deadpanned, finally shoving his phone away as he switched between looking at you and the man by your side. His eyebrows bunched up.

“And apparently horny too.”

“I would move across the country if it meant I never had to see him again,” you grumbled, striding back to the pile of equipment to pick up your backpack and the bag with all your reporting necessities (boring script, stationary, and a couple of notebooks shared with all the broadcasting students to collect notes and inspiration in). 

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

“I’m going to hurl,” Kevin unnecessarily announced, and Hyunjae’s face soured.

“Ew.”

“Exactly. That’s how you two make me feel whenever you guys are together.” Kevin got up on his feet and grabbed the wrapper to shove into one of his pockets (no littering, kids) before outstretching his limbs dramatically. 

“I swear I developed back pain from always listening to you guys bicker.”

“Or, hot take,” Hyunjae interjected, “maybe it’s because you’re always sitting with your back arching forward like it belongs in the Arches National Park–”

“Yeah yeah, shut the fuck up.” Kevin waved him off with his hand and rolled his eyes. “I came here to help carry stuff, not listen to your bullshit.”

He picked up the bag that contained the camera and passed it to Hyunjae. He offered to hold one more thing, but with only his backpack and the tripod left, Kevin didn’t see much need for his friend’s assistance. 

Kevin then faced you, his face stern and rid of emotion.

“You too, Y/N,” he stated seriously. “None of this ‘he said this,’ ‘he said that,’ ‘please fuck me’ bullshit from you either.”

You gaped at him, arms wrapped tightly around the crew’s bag.

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

Without giving you much of an opportunity to continue, Kevin sped off in front of you, ready to leave the building. You couldn’t even look at Hyunjae as heat rushed to your cheeks, struggling to trail after Kevin’s speedy steps.

Despite carrying heavier items, Hyunjae caught up to you with ease. You wanted nothing more than for Hyunjae’s feet to either slow down or speed up tremendously, but of course he purposely chose to walk by your side, attached to you by the hip.

“He sees it,” Hyunjae sing-songed. “Everyone sees it.”

“Sees what?” you snorted, oblivious to what he was indicating.

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

The moment you two stepped outside the doors of the center, you stopped to face him, trying to confirm what exactly he was implying.

“You can’t be serious.”

Hyunjae, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

Realizing that he was serious, you felt every muscle in your body tense up.

“Hyunjae,” you stated firmly. “I have a boyfriend, remember?”

Instead of receiving something witty from Hyunjae like normal, his relaxed facial features suddenly scrambled into one that expressed remote shock. His lips were slightly parted, eyes searching yours for any hint that indicated you were lying or messing around with him, but you were serious.

The aggressive playfulness from earlier had evaporated faster than boiling water, and you watched as he became stilled. Your heart started pounding, anxiety creeping up within you due to not being able to read Hyunjae like you normally do.

“Since when?” he asked. His voice was quiet, his tone firmer, and by now, Kevin was already by his car, too far from the two of you to understand what was going on. Hell, even you could barely understand what was happening.

“Earth to Hyunjae?” you joked, nervously laughing in an attempt to eliminate the newfound tension looming in the atmosphere. “It’s always been Jiwoong, remember?”

For a moment, Hyunjae could feel his mouth drying up. All his thoughts were held captive in his throat, and his lips remained parted as if they weren’t meant to collide at all. He stared at you like you had just teleported in front of him.

“Y/N,” he stated calmly, “he cheated on you.”

Your initial response was to get defensive, claiming that you already knew that because hell, it was your relationship, but then your brain acknowledged the true elephant in the conversation.

“How-...how the hell do you know about that?”

“I- You know word just-…That doesn’t matter. What matters is why in the world—”

“It was a mistake, okay?”

“A mistake?” As Hyunjae’s brows raised, so did his tone. “You know, people—decent people, don’t make mistakes like that.” 

Seeing how Hyunjae was gritting his teeth, how his eyes were locked on yours, built up a foreign frustration within you. Something about the way Hyunjae was behaving felt like he was trying to control you. 

All the rage from before had now returned, yet this time, there was no more leniency from you—not when Hyunjae was being more condescending than he had ever been.

“You know nothing, Hyunjae, so frankly, I really don’t care about what you think about my relationship with my boy-”

“You’re still with him??”

“Look,” you snapped. “Just because you have the luxury of crushing my hopes and dreams on a daily basis, it does not give you the right to dictate what’s wrong or right about my love life and my decisions. Understood?”

And just like how you always are, Hyunjae refused to shut up.

“How is it dictating when it’s common sense to dump a shitty person?” He dropped the bags onto the ground, and not once did he look away from you. “He’s never treated you well either, and you know that—”

“It’s not your decision to make,” you repeated. You could feel the three key elements of creating a fire stir up within you. You had the fuel, the oxygen, and the heat, and Hyunjae was the chemical chain reaction that would set it off. “How dense can you fucking be to not back down?”

“He cheated on you,” he reasserted, and there was a rage in his eyes that you had never once encountered. “He’s done so many shitty things, and he hasn’t changed–”

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

“Drop it.” You were seconds away from yelling at him, ready to unleash all your anger because never once has someone threatened your love life—Jiwoong, the man you considered your soulmate. Your flame had officially engulfed his, and all Hyunjae could do was stare at you in disbelief and disappointment.

Turning to look away, you gazed up into the sky and scoffed, not understanding why tears had begun to pool up in your eyes. At the end of the day, Hyunjae meant nothing to you—you didn’t even consider him a friend.

After moments of experiencing what it was like to be suffocated by a tension so unbearable, you eventually found a way to ground yourself. 

“I can’t blame him, you know,” you whispered, using the back of your hand to wipe away your tears. “We were angry. He just–...he needed an outlet, and at that time, that outlet happened to not be me, okay?”

Hyunjae stared at you, his mouth desperate to say something, anything, to make you see what he sees—a relationship that isn’t meant to be. That you didn’t deserve to be treated this way. Maybe you were no more than an acquaintance to him, but he knew you have always deserved better. 

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

“And that’s none of your business,” you scowled.

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Jae.”

Hyunjae clamped his mouth shut, and the sight of you completely breaking down tore him apart. Possibly it was all the years you spent together growing up, constantly arguing, yet he knew he was always one to look out for you.

You sucked in a cheek, gnawing at it as your chest urged for you to forgive him, to apologize for lashing out without much notice, but in the end, you prioritized your pride over him.

Not only was Hyunjae’s persistence a stab to your heart, but you suspected that Kevin was the one who told him. By spilling your secrets, it was as if Kevin saw the knife that impaled you and yanked it out of your chest, causing you to bleed to your death.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you muttered, dropping the bag in your arms to the ground by his feet. Your plans had changed to you walking home alone, wanting nothing to do with the other two boys for the next hour or so.

When you turned around to walk away, you knew Hyunjae was going to try and say something. You knew him best whenever he was at his worst, so you spun around to face him for the last time that day to cut him off.

“Never fucking cross that line with me again, got it?”

And with that, you left. 

//

Kevin apologized to you the morning after.

He normally drove you to school, and you debated getting into his car when he showed up. Thankfully you chose to do otherwise because the second you stepped inside, Kevin was apologizing profusely. He talked about how anxious he was all night when Hyunjae told him what happened, and he wouldn’t have known what to do if you didn’t forgive him. Obviously you did, and the rest of the car ride was spent with him explaining his side of the story.

According to Kevin, he only told Hyunjae about how you got cheated on because it seemed like Hyunjae already knew. As Kevin recalled the whole scene, you two assessed the signs, such as how Hyunjae didn’t provide any sort of reaction when Kevin dropped the news. In fact, it had seemed like Hyunjae had brought it up to Kevin instead.

Regardless, it became the last of your worries because all that mattered was that you were back to being on good terms with your best friend.

But avoiding Hyunjae felt like lighting a match in the rain. 

It was your agonizing reality for the next two months, and although you could argue that you had gotten closer to your boyfriend during the supposed ‘Hyunjae Drought,’ you were still plagued with him being everywhere around you.

He was in all your classes, and you never truly processed the extent of how involved Hyunjae had always been throughout high school with you. You weren’t on the swim team, but you were stuck with him during meetings for both the broadcasting team and student council. 

Yet it all felt so different.

Unless he was called on, Hyunjae would talk much less unprovoked and would never look at you during meetings. When he would address the entire team, he would glance at you for a split second before looking elsewhere, no longer watching you like a hawk.

You had also gotten quieter because without Hyunjae to banter with, you recognized that you barely had friends in any of those classes either. 

There was no longer a fight between your flames, and you two kept as much distance as possible. You were thankful that there hadn’t been an instance that interrupted that, such as being forced to record more B-roll with him, and you could only hope that the rest of your senior year would remain the same. 

Then you would never have to see him in college.

Now you were back to being the mediocre student that faded into the background. People knew your name at best, but none have ever tried to become your friend aside from Kevin. No matter how involved you tried to get, the closest you were to anyone was a classmate. 

Hyunjae had always overshadowed you too, and for the first time in years, you were detached from his fumes—yet somehow, some way, the smoke from his fire would remain in your lungs, continuing to suffocate you even more than it had before. It didn’t give you that breath of fresh air of new friends or a better life; instead, it helped you realize that you didn’t matter. It was a miracle that you even scored Jiwoong as your boyfriend.

But then that begged the question: why did Hyunjae bother spending his time ridiculing you?

From the very beginning, you had always meant something to him, and you couldn’t pinpoint how or why. When there was no competition in academics, he treated it as if there was. Every time you ranted, he would listen, whether it be about him or something else. Even when you talked about how your chicken from the cafeteria was burnt, he would give you his own before calling you stupid for not noticing until you sat down.

He never shrugged you off like you were nothing or shut you down because your emotions were invalid. He entertained you each time with ease, and most importantly, he knew when to respect your boundaries. Hyunjae was probably the most mindful person you knew and could often tell when you were distressed or needed another form of reaction from him.

He knew when to stop.

Yet when it came to the one instance involving Jiwoong, he crossed the line multiple times. Why?

“Hyunjae isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

Kevin watched you play with your food with a fork, rolling the cold, barely spherical peas around and into the stale rice.

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.” 

After the driest possible conversation in existence, you sighed and dropped your fork into your tray.

“I need to stop forgetting to pack myself lunch. This shit makes me lose my appetite, I swear. We should call the police and tell them the food they’re serving is illegal and a disgrace to this country.” 

“Keep it away before I lose my appetite too.” 

You didn’t react nor respond to what Kevin said, letting the conversation rot as you pouted at your food. The cafeteria was unusually louder today, making it easier to space out into thought.

Kevin took out his sandwich with a wide grin and started eating, grateful he never had to deal with what the school was feeding thanks to his mom, but eventually his eyes shifted over to you. You were unmoving with your gaze locked onto an empty spot on the table, so after moments of debating between asking you what’s wrong and ignoring you to devour his lunch, he opted to set his sandwich aside and stared straight at you.

“Why are you thinking about him?”

That was enough to garner your attention, your head snapping up to stare at your best friend like he was the craziest person you knew for mentioning Hyunjae, much less suggesting that your mind was wrapped around him.

“What?”

“Hyunjae. With his perfect attendance, a day without him should be a blessing, yet you brought up how he didn’t show up today and then moped harder than anyone I’ve ever seen mope. You should be over the moon, dancing on the tables and stealing people’s food, not-...” Kevin waved a finger at you, “whatever this is. You seem out of it.”

“Well it’s not because of Hyunjae, I’ll tell you that,” you snorted. Your eyes fell back down to your tray, and the more you looked at it, the more nauseous you got. You scrunched your nose. “If anything, it’s probably because of this shit food.”

Kevin rolled his eyes before tearing his sandwich into halves. You perked at the sight and ogled the half Kevin taunted you with. You were about to thank him and take it into your possession before Kevin jerked back his arm, making you whine.

“Throw away your food, then I’ll give you it.”

“Fine,” you grumbled. As Kevin returned to his delicious, most scrumptious, packed lunch you had ever seen, you picked up your tray and walked it to the nearest trash can. As you dropped the whole thing inside, you heard your name being called.

“Y/N!”

You whipped around to check to see who it was and smiled at the sight of Eunseo waving at you. You wouldn’t consider her a good friend, but you knew her well enough since she was the vice president of the student council.

She ran over to you with a stack of paper in her arms, relieved to have caught you. 

“Y/N, hi! I’m so glad I found you. I was scared I wouldn’t because of how packed it is.”

She flashed you her usual glowing smile, and you noticed that she was a bit more giddy than usual, making you question why she was choosing to talk to you in the first place. All your conversations normally took place before, during, and after student council meetings, so this was slightly out of character.

“What’s up?” you asked. As you looked at her, you noticed how her outfit was slightly more put together than it normally was. She had on a cute top that suited her chest perfectly and a skirt that you had never seen her wear. 

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

“Really?!” Her bright demeanor then faded into concern. “Wait, is it too noticeable or out of the blue? Is it bad?”

“No, no. Not at all!” you reassured. “It’s just the right amount of perfect.”

“Great! God, that means the world coming from you. It’s because!...” She stopped to glance around, making sure that no one was eavesdropping, before taking a step closer to whisper. “It’s because I was finally asked out on a date by my crush!”

She could barely contain her excitement, holding back a squeal with her bottom lip latched between her teeth. Her sunshine-like energy made you grin.

“That’s great! I’m glad you’re making progress.” Your eyebrows pinched as you tried to recall the last time Eunseo had updated you about her crush. “You’ve been pining after him for so long—whoever ‘him’ is, anyway.”

The question of who Eunseo liked had always gone unanswered. She never told anyone, not even the ones who knew her best, but she loved gushing about her mystery crush to everyone she knew. All people really knew, you included, was how down bad she was.

A part of you wondered if it was someone you knew—someone pretty like Juyeon or well-known like…Hyunjae.

“Oh, I wish I could tell you, and maybe I will if things go really well and we become official!” She squealed and hopped in her spot, unable to resist giving you a half-hug with her free arm. “This is so exciting, Y/N!”

“I’m really happy for you.” Your smile was genuine until you thought about why she was looking for you, starting to doubt that she called you over just so she could tell you about her date. 

“I’ll let you know how it goes, swear. But! That aside, I also have something for you.”

You knew it.

Your brows raised, and when you didn’t catch on, she gestured to the papers in her arms with guilt.

“I know this is kind of a dick move, and I’m really really sorry, but I promised to put up fliers for prom today. My date is right after my last class.” Her frown had deepened, and for a split second, you found yourself sympathizing with her because who wanted to let down such a cheerful personality, especially when this was life-changing for her?

“So you want me to do it?”

“Exactly! Please, that would be great. It shouldn’t take too long, too.”

You thought about how you would have to give up an evening of playing on your switch or extra time to study for an upcoming exam, but you knew it was your duty as secretary to help out whenever needed.

Not to mention that it would also make you a decent friend not to hold Eunseo back from her soon-to-be love life despite her poor date planning. If you were in her shoes, you would have wanted her to do the same for you too.

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

“You’re the best, seriously!” She handed you the fliers as she began to fill you in on the extra details.

“I already told Mr. Barajas that I wasn’t feeling well and that you were going to do it, so he said it all worked out and to not worry about it,” she rambled, happy to give the extra weight (both literally and metaphorically) to you. “I just printed these out, so everything should be perfect to go. Oh, and don’t worry about any extras! Just set them on Barajas’s desk when you’re finished. Hyunjae will also be in 142 with tape ready for you.”

The mention of the forbidden name nearly made every cell in your body halt. 

“What?”

Eunseo tilted her head at you, confused, before finally realizing.

“Oh crap, I forgot! I’m so sorry, I really did forget you guys weren’t on good terms. I hope it’s okay that he’s helping you out. I mean, he’s supposed to, but it was meant for him and me to do it together, not you two, so…God, I’m really sorry Y/N.”

Before you could even react to the newfound information, she continued.

“I really have to go now. Thank you again! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” And with her rosy pink cheeks and a stunning shade of red on her lips, she basically skipped away and waved goodbye to you with a smile, so you reciprocated it with an awkward one of your own. 

When she turned her back, your smile immediately dropped and you sighed heavily.

“Have fun on your date,” you mumbled, your eyes falling to fliers in your arms. As you skimmed the one on top, you noticed it was to promote going to prom while also including a big QR code to vote for who should be your school’s prom king and queen. You expected it since it was the last meeting’s topic of discussion, but what you weren’t aware of was who were listed as nominees.

There were eight names listed under ‘Prom Court,’ and while you expected Hyunjae’s, Eunseo’s, and your boyfriend’s names on it, your jaw nearly hit the ground at the sight of your own. 

//

With every passing class period, your anxiety would kick up a notch.

The dread of talking to the face you had been avoiding for two months engulfed you, and it caused you to develop the urge to ditch your current class to go hunt for Jacob, the student council’s historian. You wanted nothing more than to dump the stack of fliers into his arms, and knowing Jacob, he wouldn’t ask any questions. Hell, you were certain that if you asked him nicely, he would do it for you because of how naturally sweet and endearing he was.

But the guilt of ditching your secretary duties kept picking at your skin, and besides, all you had to do was treat Hyunjae like a colleague. That should be easy, right?

As you suffered through the last few minutes of class and your teacher’s incessant ramblings about the upcoming exam, your thoughts drifted over to what would happen the moment you stepped into room 142.

Hyunjae hadn’t shown up to a single class all day, yet he was expected to set up fliers after school. As your thoughts snowballed, you arrived at the baseless conclusion that maybe Eunseo wasn’t aware that Hyunjae was absent today, therefore someone else (like Jacob) would take over. 

Suddenly, your back had straightened with feigned interest in your teacher’s last few words. Something about Jacob being there instead of Hyunjae had excited you; it felt like you were free and that the universe was listening to your prayers. The gamble of seeing whether it would be Hyunjae or Jacob (or literally anyone else) had your right leg bouncing, eyes on the clock, and when the bell rang, you shot up from your seat, backpack over your shoulders and fliers in your arms, before dashing out of the classroom.

You sped down the hallway to 142, Mrs. Zhang’s room for Chemistry, bug-eyed, before having your delusions crushed at the sight of Hyunjae’s stupidly large height leaning against one of the counters. Your feet stood glued to the ground by the doorway, your eyes locked onto him. 

Covered from head to toe in sweats, Hyunjae was immersed in whatever was on his phone, scrolling through something as his brown curls peeked out from inside his hood. Without any hint of him acknowledging your presence, your shattered hopes slowly began to rebuild.

Maybe if you were quiet enough, you could sneak out with the tape and do everything on your own, avoiding him at all. Actually, scratch that. You didn’t even need the tape. All you had to do was go to another teacher’s room, steal their tape for half an hour, and then return it with ease.

The plan was effortless, and you mentally smacked your forehead for not thinking of it earlier. Right as you were about to execute it, your backpack slammed against the doorframe as you turned on your heels. 

“Nice try.”

You groaned out of embarrassment (and slight pain) and forced yourself to turn around. Hyunjae’s phone was now face down on the counter, and his arms were crossed over his abdomen. His face remained stoic as his eyes met yours, wielding a tension you didn’t recognize.

Now that you could properly look at him, you noticed a few details that you hadn’t before, such as the small tear on his lower lip and the bandaid on his cheekbone. If you looked long enough, you could catch light patches of purple across his skin, and the sight hindered all your thoughts, your brain too occupied with piecing together how he ended up like this. 

“What happened?” you blurted, your gaze shooting up from his lips to his eyes.

Hyunjae staggered at your suddenty, but he managed to keep himself stilled, his brows pinching. 

“What do you mean?”

Even if Hyunjae didn’t mean to, his question became an invitation for your unfiltered thoughts to spill out of your mouth.

“You didn’t show up for any of our classes today,” you began, “but now you’re here? For some stupid fliers? You’re barely dressed properly like you normally are, your hair isn’t straightened, you look pale, Jae, and what’s up with the bruises or the bandaid on your cheek–”

“Are you seriously psychoanalyzing me?” he asked with a scoff. There was no humor in his tone. Instead, it looked as if he was irritated, perhaps even more than you were. 

Hyunjae barely met your eyes, and his arms closed himself off from you. 

“What–?”

“You’re evaluating me like I’m some sort of lab project, Y/N.”

“No, no I’m not,” you rejected. “I’m just saying things are a little off.” You kept your eyes firm on his, even as he pushed himself off the counter with his phone and made his way over to you. “And you know, you really can’t blame me for being somewhat worried when one, you don’t show up, and two, you look like a whole mess—”

“Just hand over the fliers—” he interrupted, gritting his teeth as he outstretched his arm in your direction. You dodged him by turning your body 180 degrees and stood your ground.

“What happened?” you repeated, this time more firmly.

Hyunjae looked at you, a blank expression on his face, before turning back around to grab the roll of tape left on the teacher’s desk. When he returned, he shoved it into your arms while simultaneously stealing half the stack. You protested with an exclaimed ‘Hey!’ yet he didn’t bat an eye and skimmed over the contents of the flier on top.

Bothered by his lack of response, you frowned and made sure to block the doorway, refusing to let him leave until you received answers.

“Why are you acting like this? Pretending that I’m not even—”

“I’ll do upstairs, you do downstairs,” he muttered.

“Did you get into a fight? Why weren’t you here today? Why are you here now—”

“You’d think you’d know,” he finally answered, pushing past you like you weighed none less than a feather.

Your brain had fully malfunctioned at that point, unable to decipher what he meant as Hyunjae walked off to the nearest staircase. As his footsteps echoed down the hall, you thought about what he was implying yet came to no resolution. Did he assume that you were caught up in your school’s latest gossip? Or that you were the main admin for his biggest fan page on Instagram?

The idea made you snort, and you scowled bitterly at his childish attitude. It wasn’t like you were a complete stranger intruding on his personal life—hell, you felt like you deserved an explanation because of how you were forced to do this with him. 

As you stormed off past the remaining lingering students to the nearest bulletin board, you questioned how you were going to do this on your own. 

You had put up fliers countless times in the past few years yet never alone. Luckily, you had a general idea of where the fliers should go when it came to the school’s hallways, but as you approached your first destination, you struggled with ripping off pieces of tape while holding the stack at the same time. It would’ve been easier with a partner by your side, one who either did the tape ripping or placing of the fliers, but you weren’t desperate enough to fall into the role of a helpless princess in need of her pretty (useless) prince. 

After some trial and error, you found a method that consisted of setting the stack on the ground occasionally so you could rip off pieces of tape. Then you would slap said pieces of tape onto your wrist, having them readily available as you put up a few fliers at a time.

Although slightly time-consuming, it was working well and kept you at a steady pace until you heard crashing footsteps behind you from afar. Without paying any mind to it, you bit back your curiosity in order to focus on the wall in front of you, but then you made the mistake of taking a step back, bumping into the person who was sprinting. 

You lost your balance and fell forward before catching yourself shortly after. However, the fliers had already flown out of your arms, scattering across and down the long hallway.

Ready to curse out the offender for running down the hallway, you were surprised when you saw that it was Eunseo behind you, pouring out apologies while a loopy grin was smacked onto her face.

You steadied your anger and told her it was okay, getting down onto your knees to collect all the fliers. Her ‘sorry’s could only go so far with her smeared lipstick, a dazed gaze, and her hair holding the mold to someone else’s (presumably her crush’s) hands in them, but you still excused her, knowing that she was over the moon right now.

“It’s okay, Eunseo, I promise.” You forced out a chuckle as you crawled to scavenge for the ones that flew a few feet away.

“I really didn’t mean to,” she pouted, but it was shortly followed up with bubbly giggles. “God, Y/N, can you believe this? Oh, it’s going so well! I think I love him, I do.”

“Good for you,” you grumbled, hoping that she didn’t hear it as you continued to move down the hallway, hating how far the fliers had escaped from you. You also hated how she just stood there without intent on helping you at all. 

“I have to really go now. Got volleyball practice soon, but I think I’m seeing him tomorrow too!” She waved you goodbye.

And just like that, she continued running off. 

You stared at how you were only able to collect half the mess, hating how Eunseo had somehow managed to delay you even further from being in the comfort of your bed. You were also salty at how her date was taking place at the school, wishing she could’ve dragged him around while she taped stuff up before getting dick-downed of some sort.

Deciding that she and her business weren’t worth your time, you continued to pick everything up as quickly as you could, wanting nothing more than to go home.

When you finally finished collecting every last flier, you were prepared to get back into the groove of things before feeling your phone vibrate in the side pocket of your backpack. Wondering if it was something important, you took it out and beamed at the idea of it being a new message from Jiwoong.

Dating him felt like falling in love with him all over again whenever he texted. Your heart would pound in your chest when you thought about him and explode whenever he gave you his attention and time. You were addicted to him, especially knowing that he was yours after liking him since middle school.

So to say you were disappointed was far worse than an understatement. It was from a number you hadn’t saved yet always recognized and undoubtedly remembered by heart.

Of course it was Hyunjae.

You had Hyunjae’s phone number due to previous class projects and group chats, but you had never once saved it because you thought he was undeserving of being a contact in your phone. Nonetheless, with how the years have passed and how much his number infiltrates every group chat you were in, it was only fair that your brain had unintentionally memorized all ten digits.

The message he sent consisted of him saying that he was done with the fliers, and you rolled your eyes. Even after the way he treated you earlier, he still chose to let you know and brag about how fast he was. 

You shoved your phone away vigorously, ready to return to your slapping-fliers-on-walls duty, before perking at the sound of footsteps behind you once more.

Automatically assuming it was Eunseo or another student staying after for a club or sport, you were stunned when you heard his voice. 

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

In no fucking universe are you turning around; not for him.

“Go gloat somewhere else,” you snapped. The next flier you taped up was nearly slammed onto the wall, but Hyunjae was left unphased by your sudden outburst. He stood next to you and remained quiet, even when you left to place the next flier a few feet away on the opposite wall.

When he didn’t follow, you sighed out of relief, yet somehow you couldn’t help but peek at him, eyeing his hands that were tucked into the pockets of his sweatpants. He was staring straight at the lopsided flier you had put up, and when you decided you had enough of peering at him, he was back by your side.

 “What are you doing?” you grumbled. He was the one who pushed you away, yet now here he was, glued to your side like how he was two months ago. 

“You’re taking too long.”

“I had a mishap,” you explained, “but that’s none of your concern.” The lines on your forehead bunched up, and you waved him off, bending down to place the stack on the ground. Figuring it wasn’t weird at all, you continued your method of ripping off pieces of tape and slapping it onto your wrist.

And Hyunjae was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

Despite being on the ground and sitting on your heels, you could physically feel the heat on the back of your head due to his eyes burning a hole into your skull, and for a split second, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“I can do it myself,” you explained. 

“What are you even doing?” 

“Can you just go?” You picked up the stack once again as you rose to your feet, doing your best to avoid whatever look was on Hyunjae’s face. He was probably stifling a laugh or keeping his expression smug, but when you did cave and peek, his face was still solemn, his eyes on your wrist with concern.

“You’re struggling.”

“Thank you for your observation, Mr. Obvious,” you retorted.

“Let me do it.”

Taken aback, you whipped your head over to his direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“You don’t even want to be here,” he reasoned through gritted teeth. “Just go, and you can thank me later.”

“Thank you?!” Appalled at his audacity, you couldn’t help but laugh out of disbelief. “Seriously, Hyunjae? You want me to thank you for stealing my job? Again? You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Because you can’t take any criticism ever, or in this case, any form of help, so just let me do it.”

Hyunjae was eerily calm about the whole ordeal, his energy far from matching yours.

“I do take help,” you refuted. “I just don’t take yours, and neither do I need it, too.”

“You’re so goddamn stubborn.” And within a blink of an eye, he had managed to snatch the stack of fliers from you. 

“Hey!” you yelled, feeling as if it was deja vu from earlier (you really needed to step up your defense), and reached out to take them back, but he was quick to turn his body, shielding them from you.

“Give me the tape and go,” he urged, emotionless. The Hyunjae in front of you now was someone you truly didn’t recognize because the Hyunjae you knew would have made fun of you and held the fliers above your head, teasing you for being so weak.

Yet he stood still, creating a barrier between you and the duty that was forced upon you. You didn’t want to be here anyway, yet you were so insistent on making sure Hyunjae wasn’t stealing your work again. You weren’t incapable, and you hated how he always managed to be faster.

Even now, he was miles away from being playful with you, and yet he still had a way to shove it in your face.

“Hyunjae, I swear—”

“Give me the tape, and you can run off to your little boyfriend waiting for you by the entrance.” 

Your lips parted at his words, eyes wide as you worked to comprehend his words. You questioned how he knew about Jiwoong’s whereabouts, how he knew that Jiwoong was waiting and that you didn’t, but knowing that he was serious, you reluctantly gave up and dropped the roll of tape on the ground, forcing him to pick it up. 

You were sick of constantly arguing with him, and even if he was lying about Jiwoong, at least you would be away from Hyunjae. There was no point in fighting for your dignity anymore, not when Hyunjae’s narcissism was insufferable.

By walking away with heavy and quick strides, you hoped he felt humiliated by how poorly he was treating you—how he had always treated you like this.

As much as you wanted it to be true, you hoped Hyunjae was lying just so you had more evidence against his self-absorbed and shitty personality, but alas, you found Jiwoong standing precisely where Hyunjae said he was.

Regardless, all stress and frustrations had lifted from your being, and you called out to your boyfriend with a smile that would make your cheeks ache in minutes. 

“Woong!” You waved your hands with a small bounce in your steps as you rushed over to him.

Your boyfriend’s head shot up, surprised to see you. His utter shock quickly switches to one of sheer happiness, tucking his device away before opening his arms for you.

“Hey, baby!”

You tossed yourself into his embrace, hugging him tight after pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” With your face in his neck, your voice came out muffled, and it made Jiwoong laugh.

“Had to stay after to discuss my grades with a teacher, then I decided to stay back a bit for you.” He cooed and kissed the top of your head, holding you incredibly close. When you pulled back, his hands had moved from behind your backpack to your hips instead, holding them as you stared up at him.

“You were waiting for me?” you asked, eyes wide with stars in them.

“Of course I was, baby.” 

You were radiating, feeling happier than ever. The last time you saw Jiwoong was a week ago, and with your clashing schedules, you two very rarely get the opportunity to make plans. Your hands rested atop his shoulders, and when he pulled you in for a kiss, you smiled.

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

//

If someone were to inquire Hyunjae about who his heart belonged to, your name would be his answer—whether he intended to say it or not. 

Hyunjae had always been considered the school’s favorite. His intelligence may not be up to par with others, but his authority was what made him a prominent member of your high school. Some blame it on his looks, but most were aware enough to know that wasn’t the case.

Hyunjae knew how to think on his feet, and his problem-solving skills outwitted everyone within his grade level. Reaching tranquillity had never been an issue for him, allowing him to be levelheaded while making decisions. He emitted an aura that made classmates truly listen to him and the ideas he shared, and overall, it made him a great contender to lead every group and organization he was in. 

Additionally, Hyunjae’s heart was what won over most people. His lack of vulnerability seemed to be his only flaw, but it was an obstacle he could overlook when it came to empathizing with others. By actively being involved in the community through volunteering and holding fundraisers, everyone could recognize Hyunjae’s devotion to hope for humanity. 

All these traits were what led Hyunjae up onto the pedestal and the public eye, a household name for all families in the district. Titles and awards naturally gravitated towards him throughout the years, resulting in him winning the vote as president of your school’s student council and enough scholarships to provide him a full ride at most universities.

It was safe to say that competition against Lee Hyunjae was sparse, and you were no different. 

Your grades would teeter around his standard, hence how you two collectively ended up in the same classes, but aside from that, you had nothing else that could compare to what he was capable of.

Except for one thing; your fury.

There was an inferno inside you at all times, and instead of your body shielding off your heart with steel, people around you would come to find out that your heart was the reason for that large blaze of fire, possessing a passion unlike any other. 

Hyunjae had never once seen a peer with as much fight as you. It was a trait only you encapsulated, one that you weren’t afraid to express. You stood up for yourself and your beliefs, and it was easy to pick fights with him when he had been troubling you from the very moment you two were assigned to sit next to each other in seventh-grade algebra. 

Hyunjae yearned for you ever since, his only want being your attention. You gave him the drive to succeed in high school and thrive in his senior year, and he was positive that he wouldn’t be doing this well without a reason to show off in front of you. He wanted your praise, your acknowledgment, but he loved the chase the most. 

Unfortunately, that was the exact reason he ended up here.

The chase was what made him fall for every part of you, wanting nothing more than your lips on his and the ability to have you by his side at all times, but it was also what landed you with your current boyfriend.

It was like his life was a video game with God giving him the hardest difficulty setting by making sure you were obsessed with someone undeserving of all that he wanted. There wasn’t even a chance of you two possibly being friends in your eyes. Meanwhile, Hyunjae would argue that you two had more chemistry than any other couple in your class, but that hope was crushed, shredded, and stomped on when he found out you still devoted your love to Jiwoong.

Regardless, it didn’t change who you were as a person. Your heart was still just as large and beautiful, and your drive to succeed hadn’t lessened. The bickering never faltered, and it wasn’t like Hyunjae was opposed whenever you expressed disgust at the thought of him being turned on because of you (and that was because he found the idea of you thinking about him hot—yes, his expectations were that low). 

So it was why after two months of almost zero to no contact, you treating him as if those months didn’t exist created the largest dilemma he had ever faced. He spent the next week thinking about your intentions and why you seemed to care so much, specifically right after when Hyunjae had willed himself to believe that he meant jackshit to you. You effortlessly toyed with his heart, leaving him in everlasting misery, while you seemed to do completely fine.

What was a typical and ideal lifestyle for you was a nightmare and tormenting hellhole for Hyunjae. He didn’t just crave the warmth and comfort from your undying flames.

He wanted to burn.

Insanity engulfed him on the days spent without you, leaving him to wonder why you had to make things extensively worse by pointing out his absence or how he had put less effort into his hair. Why did it seem like the concern you expressed was genuine? Why pretend that you cared for him as much as he cared for you?

He was going insane—so insane that he drove to a college party with three other friends in his sedan on a Wednesday night. 

It was being held by a fraternity he and his friends were far more than familiar with thanks to Jongin, an upperclassman he met in his sophomore year and remained friends with since then. The beginning of the senior year marked the origin of parties and hook-ups in weak sporadic attempts to get over you. 

At this rate, Hyunjae could argue that he was more experienced than half of the current college freshmen class. Getting girls in bed was the easiest part; the hardest part was forgetting about you. From what was a method created to move on from you became one that prepared him for when you wanted sex with him. 

But with your constant longing for Jiwoong, Hyunjae made sure that this party would be different.

Although accustomed to having sex with various women, Hyunjae had never been one to drink. This was a fact about him that raised brows, specifically Jongin’s when he first tried urging Hyunjae with a drink, but tonight he vowed to change that. He was normally their designated driver, but when Hyunjae informed Sangyeon of his plan, the elder was more than delighted to remain sober so Hyunjae could get a taste of alcohol.

“Hey, man! It’s about time!” Jongin exclaimed the instant he found out about Hyunjae’s willingness to drink, pulling a fresh bottle out of the cooler specifically for his friend.

“That’s what I told him!” Sangyeon projected his voice over the music, giving Hyunjae a supportive pat on the back.

Hyunjae rolled his eyes at his friends’ remarks and thanked Jongin for the beer, hanging around by the counter as the three conversed and caught up. The two laughed at the way Hyunjae’s face scrunched up at the taste, Sangyeon shoving him lightly with the claim that Hyunjae was being overdramatic. 

With his earlier mindless decision of tossing on a mesh long-sleeve shirt over his black tank top, Hyunjae had attracted another partygoer by his side momentarily after his first sip. She wrapped her arms around one of his and inserted herself into the conversation with hopes of getting Hyunjae in bed by the end of the night, and crazily enough, he considered it for a moment before feeling his phone vibrate in his back pocket.

Normally it would be something he’d ignore, but it remained persistent, signifying that he was receiving a call. He didn’t know who would be calling at this hour—well, aside from Minghao and his usual complaints about Hyunjae partying as a high schooler on a school night. 

After setting the glass down on the counter to grab his phone, any urgency to intoxicate himself as quickly as possible vanished the very second he saw your name glowing on his screen. With an awkward retraction of his arm and a forced cough, Hyunjae excused himself and answered the call.

“Hello?”

With music pounding inside his ear canals, it was expected that he couldn’t hear anything you were saying. He navigated through various crowds to reach the entrance of the house, his heart replicating the booming vibrations from the loudspeakers as he prayed that you wouldn’t hang up on him.

“Okay, I…I should be free now,” he stammered after stepping outside. The sudden stillness of Mother Nature was a drastic change from the party scene, coercing him to focus on his racing heartbeat and the anxiety accumulating in his tightening chest. He was breathing heavily, both from pushing through people in a rush and also because of you. 

You never failed to render him weak and helpless, leaving him like a puppy longing for their owner’s guidance.

There was a silence, but he could hear your gentle breaths hitting your phone.

“I need a ride.”

Hyunjae blinked, his body tensing up, as the many thoughts in his brain scrambled to make meaning of what you meant. However, it didn’t matter because you hung up shortly after, leaving him alone to revel in your words.

Your bluntness and suddenty made Hyunjae malfunction, his thoughts leading him to question if he had even heard you correctly. Rarely did you ever reach out to him, and what could you need him for? Especially after lashing out at him and ignoring him for two months? Of course, there was that one day a week ago when you two were forced to talk together, the day he was given a one-day suspension, but you two returned to treating each other like strangers like it was natural.

He stared at his phone in hopes of receiving more information, that you’d perhaps call again to reconfirm or say you had the wrong number. He felt like he was dreaming—that the person he had wanted for so long needed him for once, but he couldn’t help but also believe that this may be the beginning of another nightmare. 

But it was you, and Hyunjae was willing to risk it.

After checking his call logs to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating, he rushed back into the fraternity house, thankful he didn’t proceed with drinking any more than he did. 

He found everyone exactly where he had left them (the girl included) and announced his departure. The girl made sure Hyunjae knew how disappointed she was, but that was his last concern as he grabbed the beer bottle and handed it to Sangyeon, giving him a pat on the back.

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

“No fucking way you’re leaving us this soon, man.” Jongin shook his head in disapproval, his forearms resting against the countertop.

“Another time, I promise, yeah?” Hyunjae started walking away, waving to them as his heart continued to thrum in his chest.

“He’s lying,” Sangyeon snorted, taking a swig before bidding Hyunjae a bitter goodbye. “You owe me!"

Hyunjae ran out of the house, his legs making quick and long strides as he ran to his parked car down the block. His newfound adrenaline made him think about what he was sacrificing to be with you. Was leaving the party and betraying his friends worth spending even a second with you? What if you were asking him to drive you and your boyfriend somewhere? Could his heart even deal with being used like that?

But as much as Hyunjae hated it, he knew he was making the right choice. The self-respect he had for himself was buried six feet deep beneath the surface of the earth when it came to you. 

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

For a split second, Hyunjae truly debated what he was doing after getting into his car. He was already driving, but he didn’t know where to go. Luckily, it didn’t take you long to send him a text with your location, and it was a place he was familiar with. 

It was a park that he often frequented as a kid since it resided by his old neighborhood, and he was thankful he knew exactly where to go because he knew he would’ve definitely crashed the car while pulling up your location on his GPS. Hyunjae was doubtful it was the alcohol in his system making his fingers shake and his mind uneasy. He blamed you for his hysteria, one that had developed over years of endless longing. 

Luckily the drive wasn’t long thanks to the roads being mainly void of other vehicles (and maybe he did speed a few times, but he considered it justified). Before pulling into the parking lot, he spotted a lone figure curled up on a nearby bench. A small weight had been lifted off of him, relieved it was just you, and he parked aimlessly while his eyes rested on you.

You seemed unphased by his added presence, your arms unmoving as they stayed wrapped around your legs. The bench you were sitting in was facing away from the parking lot, but with his headlights illuminating the view in front of you, you certainly had to know he was there. 

In an ideal world, Hyunjae would leave his car, join you by your side, and, if he was lucky, he’d pull you into his arms and hold you close against his chest. He wanted to be there for you in whatever way he could, but he ended up being a deer in headlights, too afraid to make the wrong move and lose you again.

He sat there for a minute, watching you, and as soon as he received the confidence to reach for the handle of his door, you were up on your feet. His fingers paused midair as he traced your movements, his arm eventually falling to his side as you approach his car. 

Despite how slow his mind was working, Hyunjae knew to unlock the car right as you opened it (he would’ve died out of embarrassment if he had forgotten), and neither of you greeted the other.

Without any explanation from you, Hyunjae refrained from staring at you like he normally would, but your outfit made it incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much, just an oversized long-sleeved shirt that reached your thighs, but it was far from the usual clothes he’d seen you wear, like jeans and a nice-fitting blouse. For a moment, he believed you had no pants on, but then he knocked some sense into himself, realizing that you were probably wearing shorts that were hidden.

While Hyunjae attempted to keep his composure and respect your boundaries, you were eyeing him shamelessly, once again analyzing every detail about him. Beads of sweat pooled up on the back of his neck, and his hair was straightened yet fuzzy. As your eyes trailed downwards, you noticed how the mesh hugged his biceps, catching every crease that defined his muscles. He was quiet, his index finger resting against his lips. 

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

You held back your tongue from dumping out your thoughts, knowing your questions would end up unanswered like before. Your body instinctively rested against the divot between the car door and your seat, keeping your distance from Hyunjae. He was meant to be a stranger, perhaps someone you loathed, yet there was an odd comfort that encased you from him just sharing the same air as you.

You cleared your throat, turning your head to look away when he flinched and snapped his gaze towards you.

“Drive.”

Your demand was no louder than a whisper, but Hyunjae picked it up effortlessly and was already backing out.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere.” Hyunjae raised a brow at your answer, and you buried yourself further into his seat, directing your gaze out the door. “Just-...anywhere, Jae.”

The nickname had his throat tightening and his chest leaping, nodding in your direction as he drove on autopilot. With no destination in mind, he strolled through familiar roads, his fingers tapping against the wheel. 

You stayed silent, creating a tension that was unbearably thick, yet none of you felt the need to leave; neither of you wanted to leave the other, even if it meant having to deal with the looming elephant in the room (or in this case, Hyunjae’s car).

After spotting the recreational center from afar and its empty parking lot, he instinctively pulled in. There wasn’t a proper explanation for why he decided it’d make a great destination, especially when it was the place that created a rift in your relationship with him, but it felt right.

It was empty, open, and serene—a perfect place to stay as the moon shined.

Hyunjae stepped out of the car after parking in the middle of it, and when you didn’t follow, he moved to your side and opened the door. He was hesitant but took the risk of offering his hand to you, a warm, nervous smile on his face. He wanted you to know he was there to listen, to be there for you, because, Lord, he would hand you the world if he could.

“I’m not in the mood for walking,” you mumbled, but Hyunjae shook his head.

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

Your eyes flickered up to his briefly, skeptical of what he had planned, but ultimately caved. You ignored his hand, and he pulled it back with regret. When you stood there, your eyes on the sky, he closed the door behind you and guided you to the hood of his car.

Without a second thought, he sat on top of it and gestured for you to do the same.

“I sit here all the time. Helps me think.” He leaned back against his windshield, his hands holding the back of his head as he kept his eyes on the sky. When you didn’t move, he started to feel stupid, wondering if you two were better off in the car, but then you joined him. 

You copied his position, staring upwards as your hands rested over your abdomen. 

Hyunjae opted to keep to himself, deciding that he didn’t want to make this worse for the two of you. Instead, he fixated his thoughts on the stars in the sky.

There were only a few, but it was a rare sight due to the constant air pollution in your city, so he considered it a miracle. You, on the other hand, were spacing out in thought, and Hyunjae could tell through his occasional peeks. Without much control, his eyes started tracing down your arms. They then landed on where the hem of your shirt rested, now looking at your bare thighs.

Feeling as if he just reverted back to being the shyest virgin in the country, he gulped and immediately looked elsewhere, trying to get you off his mind despite you being right next to him. His racing heart was all that he could hear, and now he wondered if you could hear it too—if you knew how much you affected him.

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

Okay, maybe his brain did fall out of his skull because Hyunjae had no idea what you were talking about. He turned his head and caught how you stared up at the sky. Your eyes were glossy, holding the reflections of the whole galaxy within them. They sparkled, and for a beat, Hyunjae had forgotten your question, too infatuated with your beauty. 

His silence resulted in you turning your head, gaze meeting his, and that was when he noticed the tears.

“About Jiwoong and Eunseo.”

Your light, your flames, his burning desire; all were gone in a flash.

Your voice was delicate, and Hyunjae knew that with one move, he could break you.

Directing his gaze heavenward, Hyunjae sighed and brought his arms down to rest over his chest. Somehow he was able to feel all the pain you were experiencing, his heart twisting while his stomach churned and sloshed around in his body. He thought about how to respond as he chewed on the inside of his lip, questioning if he should answer at all to avoid hurting you.

But you asked, and as always, Hyunjae delivered.

“I don’t think I ever really knew until last week,” he explained, “but I could always tell.” Suddenly, the fight from a week ago had resurrected, and Hyunjae was forced to relive it all.

The hallways were empty when Hyunjae left the broadcasting room, a backpack strap slung over his shoulder while the other dangled behind him. He was in the middle of scrolling through his emails when he picked up on the sound of Jiwoong’s voice around the corner. 

His footsteps halted, and Hyunjae caught Jiwoong’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Eunseo’s squeals followed after, and Hyunjae stood motionless.

At first, Hyunjae had no thoughts circulating in his brain, but after hearing their lips collide, he started coming up with solutions, such as interrupting or taking a video to send to you. Unfortunately, before he could act on either of them, he heard footsteps dashing off, practically skipping, as the two bidded one another goodbye. 

Hyunjae couldn’t pinpoint the reasoning behind his upcoming actions, but he knew how to describe how he felt. 

Anger was the first and only emotion to surge up within him, his fingers instinctively balling up into fists. His muscles had tightened while a forest fire ran rampant through his veins, causing his blood to boil. 

Then with quick strides, Hyunjae shoved his phone away and made a sharp turn around the corner, tossing his backpack on the ground after spotting Jiwoong against the lockers. The latter had a dazed look on his face, his lips curled into a smirk as he typed away on his phone, but that was changed once he looked up at the sound of Hyunjae’s backpack crashing against the ground in front of him.

There wasn’t a second in between Jiwoong’s face of surprise and Hyunjae’s arm being raised, and before Jiwoong could react, Hyunjae’s fist had slammed into his jaw. 

It was a blur from there, but Hyunjae knew he had won even after authorities dragged him off Jiwoong’s body. He had received a few jabs in return, but it was nothing compared to the black eye Hyunjae gave him.

The fact that Jiwoong managed to cover it up with makeup the day after was a miracle, and no one in the school knew about the fight since it happened after school. Hyunjae wanted it to stay that way, but a selfish, cruel part of him wished that everyone knew how sick your boyfriend was.

Well, now he was unsure if he was still your boyfriend. 

Hyunjae turned his head back towards you, his cheek meeting the cold metal of his car.

You pursed your lips at his response and nodded slowly. If it were any other day, you wouldn’t have believed him. There was no universe where you’d choose to listen to Hyunjae over Jiwoong, but after a week of investigating and getting your head out of your ass, you found out on your own terms, and all the pieces made sense.

“I didn’t mean to.”

Hyunjae’s voice jerked you out of your thoughts, and as you adjusted to look back at him, you were surprised to still find him staring at you.

“I’m not a violent person, Y/N,” he whispered, an enduring hope lingering in his eyes. He wanted you to believe him, and for once, you did; you truly understood the man you hated most.

“I know, Jae.”

Hyunjae eased at your words, and the two of you fell back into a more comfortable yet aching silence. His fingers drummed against his abdomen, and after a while, he got sick of looking at the same four stars, so he closed his eyes, focusing on enjoying the light breeze instead. His heart was still racing, but it was less alarming. Regardless, he hated knowing that he potentially contributed to how much you were hurting right now.

Maybe if he had done something to prevent it earlier, whether it be telling you as soon as he found out or keeping completely out of your business so you could live in bliss, or, if he wasn’t so scared, he could’ve asked you to be his far before Jiwoong had. Maybe it wouldn’t have changed much, but Hyunjae would never know since he never tried, and now he was going to beat himself over it because now you’re devastated over losing your boyfriend and it was potentially his faul—

You laughed.

Hyunjae snapped his head towards you, his brows raised at your sudden change in mood—but it wasn’t the type of laugh he expected. Your laugh was one filled with pain, and he watched you shake your head, trying to refuse the tears that were rapidly welling up in your eyes once more. You sniffed and wiped the tears away with the back of your hand, choosing to look in the opposite direction because the last thing you wanted was for Hyunjae to see you vulnerable.

“It’s stupid,” you murmured. “This entire thing is stupid. I’m so fucking dumb.”

His lips parted to interject, to tell you that you were, in fact, ‘not dumb,’ but he clamped his mouth shut, knowing that his words probably wouldn’t help. From what he’d learned in the past, you liked it least when he tried telling you otherwise, no matter the situation. 

“I should’ve known. I did know. The whole world knew. Even you knew, but it makes me think, was Eunseo just flocking around, flaunting to everyone that she had a crush on my boyfriend and managed to win him over? I just—I…I don’t know-...” You paused to catch your breath, beginning to choke on your tears as your chest shook, “I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?”

You shut your eyes, allowing the pain to engulf you. You knew fully well that your punishment was to deal with the pain, but you felt like you didn’t deserve it—that you deserved none of this. Why was this a penalty for being in love?

It was humiliating having everyone witness the reality you shielded from yourself, choosing hope and love over the truth. 

“I just never felt more stupid in my life, and I feel even more stupid knowing that I still love him.”

Hyunjae sucked in his lips, gnawing on them as he bit back all his feelings, from his brain shredding to his heart weeping.

“I love him so much that I would let him do it to me all over again because I keep thinking he’d be better. I know he can be better, so why-...It’s just- Why do I do this to myself?”

Tears cascaded down your cheeks, each one leaving behind a trail for others to fall. They started pouring out of you rapidly, soon sobbing at the heart-wrenching pain of being betrayed by everyone in your life, Hyunjae included, because why, out of everyone, was he here for you when he should be the last person who cared?

You always wanted Hyunjae to be the antagonist of your life story, to have him as your biggest enemy and threat, so why was everyone else but him hurting you? Why was the villain of your fantasy taking the role of your knight in shining armor?

And yet, as much as it pained Hyunjae to process all your emotions, his mind wasn’t running correctly; he had you alone for the first time in months. He wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and whisper words of comfort in your ears, knowing you deserved it more than anyone, but he also wanted to shake you awake and slap you out of your misery, praying that you’d forget about Jiwoong; that right now, you being vulnerable was his chance to swoop in, to set whatever you wanted him to into flames, as long as if it meant you’d end up okay. 

You sat up because if you lied down any longer, you would’ve started drowning in your own tears. Your sleeves were soaked, and he sat up alongside you, figuring that he should do something about it.

Hyunjae got back onto his feet and stood in front of you. He barely knew what he was doing, but that didn’t stop him from replacing your sleeves with his cold, clammy hands over your cheeks. There wasn’t a time that Hyunjae could recall where he had been this gentle with someone, and when you didn’t push him away, he tilted your head up to look at him.

Even with tears running down your cheeks, you looked angelic as ever. 

Each droplet mirrored a star from the sky, and your eyes sparkled as they stayed locked on his.

“Take me,” you whispered, and Hyunjae’s whole world stopped. 

“...What?” Hyunjae had only intended to wipe your tears away with the pads of his hands, perhaps whisper something along the lines of him being here for you for the night (and the rest of his life, let’s be honest), yet your first words were—no, he had to have been hallucinating.

Your hands trembled as they reached for his wrist, and although you were severely broken, the grip your fingers created was firm.

“Please.”

Like a moth to a flame, Hyunjae admired how pretty you looked, your lips plump and eyes wide, and he wanted nothing more than to take you into his backseat and treat you the way he’d always wanted to, especially after hearing your pleas, but he knew better. You both knew better. 

“What exactly are you implying?” he asked, feeling like you had just inhaled all his oxygen and left him breathless. 

You released his wrist and opted to hold onto his sleeve, tugging on it as you tried to get him to understand you.

“I want it to hurt, Jaehyun.”

Your tears were gone, and there was a hint of dominance in your tone that would’ve had him dropped to his knees in front of you. You were also one of the very few who resorted to calling him Jae, and now his actual name. He favored Hyunjae, but after hearing ‘Jaehyun’ from your lips, his preference had completely made a turnaround. 

But Hyunjae worked to collect his thoughts, fully aware that this was wrong and he’d have to be the bigger person here. As much as he hated himself for giving up the perfect opportunity to have the girl of his dreams, he couldn’t ignore the large concern over your current mental state.

“You’re not thinking straight, Y/N,” he reasoned softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your hair out of your face, and for a second, Hyunjae swore he felt the alcohol kicking in—or perhaps it was you instead. The thought of being able to have you right now, to touch you and press his hands over your skin, to have you as his for just this night, was so intoxicating that he was seconds away from foaming at the mouth.

“I don’t need to think straight. I don’t want to think at all.”

Everything felt hotter and tighter, but he kept his composure, though with his eyes dropping to your begging lips and then your delicate fingers, he knew he was beginning to lose whatever was left of his sanity. 

But he also knew you were using him; you had to be. There was no other explanation. It was only minutes ago when you professed how you continued to feel about Jiwoong—that your heart still belonged to him, and Hyunjae was allowed nowhere near it. He was your backup, your second option, yet that happened to be better than nothing, right?

Especially when he could have you right here, right now. 

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

“Then say no. Make us go back into your car and drive me home.” Your hand dropped from holding onto his sleeve but that was so you could wrap your arms around his neck, slowly bringing yourself closer to him. His cheeks were flushed as his mind flooded with possibilities of what could happen. Never had you ever wanted him, and he’d been dreaming of a moment like this for years. Your tear-stained cheeks, your pouty red lips—he wanted all of you.

“But you won’t,” you whispered, your breath hitting his skin. Your eyes landed on his lips, now craving him as much as he craved you. You needed a release, an outlet, to justify Jiwoong being better than Hyunjae. Hyunjae was worse in every way possible, and you wanted him to prove that to you. “You’d do anything I’d say, wouldn’t you?”

“What makes you say that?” Little did you know Hyunjae was crumbling inside, completely melting as his fingers grew weak at the idea of your lips on his. His hands, although wary, traveled to your waist, feeling your curves before trailing his hands down to your hips to grip them.

“You love me, don’t you?”

His heart stuttered, all words caught up in his throat, but he knew there was no defending himself—not when he was practically drooling at every move you made; he was hyperaware of the hand playing with the hair on his nape, the way your lips nearly hovered over his, and how your tears glistened under the moonlight.

His entire existence was confirmation of your words, and you knew it.

“You’d do anything for me, Jae. What’s stopping you now?”

There was a stillness as you two stared at one another. He swallowed and pulled slightly back.

He knew better.

“You don’t want me.” He was brokenhearted, a part of him understanding that you’d never be his, yet he wanted you in so many ways, wishing to have your mewls fill his ears and the smell of sex staining his clothes. The bulge in his pants was forming and pressing up against the tight confinement, making him groan. 

He dropped his head downwards, his forehead leaning to rest against yours, as he closed his eyes and did his best to regulate his breathing—repeating in his head and out loud, again.

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

Yet with your lips ghosting his and your eyes half-hooded, you were prepared to give into the dark side.

“And I say take advantage of it.”

Hyunjae dived and pressed his lips onto yours, hunger driving his every movement. There was no stopping when he felt your lips curling up into a grin, his hands shifting to wrap around your torso to drag you closer. His heart burst at how perfectly his lips molded with yours, and it seemed as if there was fire shooting up into the sky and exploding—they weren’t fireworks, and the explosion was far bigger and more dangerous. It lit the entirety of the sky, the moon and stars included, into flames, a desire unlike any other.

Your left hand pressed firm against the back of his neck while the other traveled through his hair. Meanwhile, his hands had snuck beneath your shirt and felt for your lower back. Heavy breaths left the two of you as desperation crept through your veins, dictating your every movement. 

The cold touch from his hands ignited your nervous system, every sense activated and overstimulated by Hyunjae as you released a breathy moan into his mouth.

You didn’t want him, but fuck, you needed him.

When you would pull back, his lips would chase yours, and you two fell into an endless cycle. He couldn’t even fathom how you were pulling away for air when you were his oxygen. Maybe you weren’t oxygen itself, but the fumes you emitted had already replaced his need for air, deluding him into believing that you were what he needed to stay alive.

You were suffocating, toxic, and destructive, and he wanted more. 

After retracting from the kiss for the nth time, you turned your head to hold Hyunjae back from continuing. You both were panting, your cunt soaking, and he stared into your eyes like a puppy awaiting their next direction.

“Good boy,” you praised, and he laughed lowly and sheepishly, dropping his head as he processed what happened and the idea of it being potentially over. 

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

“And you’re pitiful,” you spat. There was a playful grin on your lips, but those words ignited something within Hyunjae. He raised his head and cocked a brow at you, questioning your genuinity. 

Just minutes ago you were crying over a guy that treated you terribly, and yet here you thought you had the authority to call him weak.

Perhaps he was; he was falling deeper into your pitless trap, enticed with every movement of yours, but he knew for a fact you weren’t any better than him.

You both were sick in the head for falling for people that treated the other like shit, yet your drive, your fuel, to win over the hearts of the people you loved was so strong, and it made you two unstoppable. 

Hyunjae would punch Jiwoong all over again if he could. 

Without a second thought, Hyunjae ducked his head down and ruthlessly attached his lips to your neck, eliciting a gasp from you. He kissed your skin fervently, his fingers teasing the rim of your shorts, and your hands shifted to hold onto his shoulders for support. You found yourself tossing your head back, providing him more room to do as he pleased, that if Jiwoong were to see you with marks on your neck, then maybe he’d want you back. 

“Bold of you to call me pitiful,” he grumbled, sucking onto your neck until a blot of purple began to form.

“But it’s true, no?”

“You’re just as bad, Y/N.” He licked a stripe up your neck and over the mark, and the sensation made you cringe, disgust itching at your skin due to being covered in his saliva, but you wanted more of it. You wanted Hyunjae to treat you like you were nothing, to treat you worse than Jiwoong ever had, so you could direct your blame over to Hyunjae instead of your unknowing boyfriend.

You turned your head and slotted your lips with his again, already addicted to how perfect they were for you. Hyunjae knew the exact way to kiss you, to keep you on your toes, as your slick pooled up in your underwear at the mere thought of Hyunjae touching you.

The kiss was eager, a fight for control, and when Hyunjae didn’t surrender, you raised your knee, forcing your thigh to brush up against his crotch.

He gasped at the sensation and pulled away, bangs hanging over his eyes as he looked down at the sight. You teased him by keeping your touches gentle, but you made sure to keep your leg moving. Nothing intrigued you more than seeing Hyunjae beg or rut against your thigh, further proof of how pathetic he was for you. You gained a sense of ego knowing that he could have any girl in the world, that he has had every girl, and yet he would always come back to you. Now that you had him, it would be harder for him to return to a life without you under him, moaning his name.

You wanted to be his downfall. 

Your nails latched onto the mesh, taking note of how easy it would be to rip the material, before pressing your thigh firmly up against his dick, making him jerk.

“You’re-...oh my god, Y/N,” he gasped, breathless. His eyes meet your devious ones, how you were basically Satan himself, and somehow, someway, he wouldn’t ask for anything different. “You’re playing a losing…a losing- game.”

“What more do I have left to lose?” There was some truth in your words as vulnerability struck you. Your leg then lowered as you regained a slight sense of reality, realizing that you were forcing Hyunjae into being your selfish source of relief. You hated Hyunjae, sure, but you knew this was the last thing he deserved—to use him when he’d been nothing but accommodating to you.

And your sick and twisted plan was that after this encounter, you’d leave him to rot.

Hyunjae didn’t deserve that at all. 

But Hyunjae was already too far gone, too intoxicated, to even consider the repercussions of how he’d end up after this. The loss of contact with his crotch was what had him picking you up from his car, the tips of his fingers digging into your thighs, as he led you to the backseat. 

Your eyes widened, your senses fully back, but you made him like this, and you were going to pay for it. Although scared for about what’s to come, the anticipation had you drooling, your lips pressing fierce kisses onto his skin while he opened the door with you in his arms.

He laid you down gently and crawled over you, keeping you trapped between his arms.

“This is what you wanted, right? For me to tear you apart until you can run back to Jiwoong and justify how poorly he treats you?” 

Your brows bunched up at his words, your legs getting antsy being under him. There was no answering him, not when Hyunjae already knew how you were going to respond.

He brought one of his hands into your shorts and made the aggravating decision to slide his fingers over your underwear, depriving you of contact with his fingers.

Yet even with your underwear being a divider, he found your clit with ease and immediately started rubbing circles into the bud, making you buck your hips with a whine. The friction of the cloth was something you were unfamiliar with, and lord did it mess with you. 

“You want me to treat you how he sees you? Worthless and undeserving of respect?” He flicked your clit and kissed your jaw. “If that’s what you want, that’s exactly what my princess is going to get.”

“Fuck,” you moaned, using your hands to push onto his shoulders and force him down. The drive to ride his tongue was strong, and if he kept teasing you, you would have lost it.

“I know you inside and out, Y/N. I know you better than him, and this is how you treat me.” He sucked in a cheek but ultimately decided to comply with what you wanted. He pulled off your shorts yet left your underwear on, and his brows raised. He wasn’t sure how his fingers had missed the texture of lace, but what you were wearing was certainly lingerie.

You looked down to see why he stopped, and when you realized why he froze, heat rose to your cheeks.

“I wanted to feel pretty,” you whispered, shutting your eyes after turning your head. It was embarrassing, now that you thought about it, but Hyunjae’s heart soared, and he wanted nothing more than for you to know how ethereal you looked.

But he shoved the feeling away, allowing his frustrations to get the better half of him. 

When he pulled off your underwear, he cooed at how your essence oozed onto the material and raised the undergarment into the air, waiting for you to look.

“Did I do this?”

His mocking tone kept you from looking, but your curiosity got the best of you. You were met with the sight of a large wet, dark patch on your underwear, biting down on your lip as you looked at him with wide eyes. If you thought about it, you couldn’t remember the last time you felt like this, or if there ever had been a time when you craved someone this badly. 

He tossed it to the side and his hands massaged your thighs, keeping them spread open so he got a proper view of your core on display for him. The sight truly stunned him, reminding him that this was you he fantasized about and replicated with other girls—no one else.

“Do you normally take this long?” you rasped, tossing your head back against the seat, and Hyunjae rolled his eyes.

“I do you a favor, and this is how you treat me.”

“A favor is a stretch—”

Hyunjae plunged two fingers into your mouth, having them press firmly down against your tongue. He latched onto your jaw and pulled your head forward and up towards him, having your eyes meet his.

“Remind me, Y/N, who was begging for this?”

He dropped your head back down against the seat before you could even respond and used whatever saliva accumulated in your mouth as temporary lube, figuring that your slick would help him with stretching you out. You grunted at the impact, feeling helpless, as Hyunjae finally inserted his fingers inside of you. 

Hyunjae’s fingers were enough to have your eyes rolling, but it was the ring that he wore that stimulated you the most. You weren’t aware that he was even wearing one, yet the cold band against your raging wet heat made you whimper and desperately grasp for his hair.

“Jaehyun, please,” you begged. 

He chuckled and kept his movements slow, forcing you to fuck yourself onto his fingers weakly. When you did, he was in awe at how stunning you looked, how you seemed to be in your own world, and how you were enjoying him. By curling his fingers, a moan was pulled from your throat, making your eyes open as you looked at him. You continued to pool around his fingers, your voice weakly begging for so much more than his fingers and the cold air that brushed against your skin. 

Never had you felt more vulnerable, but Hyunjae never once made you feel like you were doing something wrong, making you cling desperately to him. You forced his face down into your crotch and jerked at the feeling of his nose brushing up against your clit.

“Shameless, aren’t you?” he commented, laughing lowly, but you were too out of it to care. 

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

Your whines had gotten more incessant the more useless he became, his fingers now completely stilled inside of you as he watched you roll your hips with a cheeky grin. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible, knowing fully well that he could last all night. 

When he took out his fingers, you were yanked out of your bliss and nearly begged for him to put them back in, but before you could get a word out, he had replaced his digits with his tongue. Your slick was dripping onto his lips, and as he dragged his wet muscle up and down your folds, he made sure to collect a small puddle of you onto his tongue to eventually swallow, wanting to savor you. 

“Oh-...Oh my god, Jae—” Your orgasm was approaching, unsure of how it was here so soon, but you recognized the signs from the coil in your chest tightening to losing every sensation to the man beneath you. You rocked your hips continuously onto his tongue, and his thumb attached to your clit, making you see stars with how rapid his movements were. 

He pulled his face back and forced his fingers back into you, and the final curl was what made you reach your peak, your hips in the air as you cried out his name. 

As you came down from your high, you caught a glance of the way Hyunjae was looking at you; to him, you were otherworldly, and it was a sight he’d never forget. He wondered if Jiwoong ever saw you like this, if he ever made you feel this way, and suddenly his admiration had soured and contoured to something of darkness, rid of any empathy as he now looked at you with some form of disgust. 

“All this for me, and you still have the fucking audacity to choose him.” 

The mention of Jiwoong had your eyes wide open, tears reappearing at the mention and while being in your most vulnerable state. Your legs shook from the aftermath, feeling too weak to continue, yet Hyunjae seemed to have other plans.

Instead of shoving his fingers back into either of your mouths, he hovered over you and made sure you saw the way he dragged his fingers around your abdomen, drawing aimlessly over your skin with your essence before dragging a hand up to your breasts, massaging one of them as his other hand rested by your waist.

“Tell me, Y/N, did you buy this for him and never got to use it? That’s why you’re wearing it now with me? Am I your sloppy seconds?”

There was a slight growl under his tone, and while you shook your head subconsciously, he worked to remove your shirt, wanting a better look at your bra, before being met with a necklace you had been hiding; one with Jiwoong’s name.

And Hyunjae took no time breaking it from your neck.

Your jaw dropped, and you snapped out of your daze by sitting straight up, yet as you were about to yell at him for breaking your necklace, he shoved three fingers back into your pussy, shutting you up by having you moan at the intrusion. 

“It looked cheap, anyway,” he muttered, forcing his mouth against yours momentarily to nip on your lower lip, tugging on it so your focus remained on him. 

“That was—he’s mine,” you forced out, gasping at every thrust he made with his fingers, your sweet spot being abused as your hands latched onto his shoulders. You made sure your nails dug into his skin, wanting it to hurt, before pulling onto the mesh, wishing for it to tear. 

“He’s not yours, princess. Tell me, how can you say that when his dick has been up other girls?” With his free hand, he grabbed your face and made sure you were staring straight at him before shoving it to the side. 

“You need to fucking wake up and realize that you can dream all you want about how he’d react if he saw you hopping on my dick, but guess what? He wouldn’t care.” Hyunjae pulled out his fingers and left you alone in the backseat. 

You sat there, a wreck and vulnerable, as you tried to catch your breath. You lay back on your forearms, curious eyes following his every movement.

“There’s a reason he hasn’t left you yet,” Hyunjae explained, opening the front door to his car to grab a condom and his phone. He tucked both into his back pocket before returning to you, bringing your lips to his before continuing to talk within the kiss.

“He’s stringing you along so you can boost his ego. He knows you will always be there for him, and you allow him to use you like that?” 

You wrapped your fingers around Hyunjae’s neck, squeezing it before pushing it away to keep your distance, your frustration starting to grow.

“I’m beginning to think you’re all bark and no bite, Jaehyun,” you muttered, and with whatever strength you had left, you pushed him against the seat and got into his lap. Without hesitation, you started rocking your hips over his clothed dick, hoping your slick would seep in so he could feel you.

He hissed but allowed you to do as you pleased, his grip tight on your hips.

“I-...I think…if you asked me, you’re the one who’s projecting. I’m the one in a relationship, and you’re just a side piece.”

The speed of your hips increased, and Hyunjae felt ecstasy on the tip of his tongue, the confinements of his pants physically paining him the more you continued.

“You’re jealous, Jae. Just admit it.”

You pulled at his hair, loving the absolute control you had over him at that moment, but in one languid motion, Hyunjae managed to push you back down, this time with your stomach against the seats. You could feel your bodily fluids sticking to the nylon, and with how hard Hyunjae was pressing down into you, you were barely given a chance to move. 

With one hand on your lower back, he kept you still as he took out both his phone and condom, making sure to place both on top of your bare skin.

“What’s there to be jealous of when you’re here under me? You want to be fucked stupid? Fine. Don’t fucking complain when you want me to be the villain.” You lurched at his words, refusing to let him win, but you were completely unable to do much damage as Hyunjae kicked off his pants and boxers while still keeping his weight on you.

He then picked up his phone and pulled up the camera, making sure to take a photo of you in his car before clicking record and tossing the phone onto the ground, hoping it was close enough to pick up on your sweet noises. 

“Make sure to be loud for me, yeah? I’m sure Jiwoong would love it if I sent that video to him.”

“You wouldn’t fucking dare,” you bit back, your hand reaching out in an attempt to grab the device, but Hyunjae was quicker to grab your wrist, pinning it behind your back. 

“I wouldn’t because I know how to appreciate what’s mine.” Hyunjae released his hold on you to roll on the condom, giving you the opportunity to move and take his phone as you pleased. To your dismay, there was no more effort left within you, only an ache to feel Hyunjae inside you. 

“He appreciates me,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself otherwise as you waited.

“Does he record you? Jerk off to your moans every night? Because I would, Y/N, just for you.” His voice was now by your ear, and when you turned your head to look at him, he pulled you into another hungry kiss, his dick now grazing against your hole. 

“You’re fucking insane,” you bit back into the kiss, and he grinned against your lips, guiding his dick into you as he spoke.

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

Venom laced his voice, dripping menacingly, and the insertion of his tip had you grasping for something in front of you, anything, and it was only then that you were able to process how thick his cock was.

“Can you take it?” he asked, his voice slightly softer than before. When you gave him a curt nod, he continued pushing in further. Maybe lube should’ve been an option, but you were so wet for him that it didn’t matter, knowing that the stretch probably would have hurt regardless. 

“Fuck, fuck—he really doesn’t know what he’s missing,” Hyunjae gasped, his head resting against the back of yours. It was better than anything he’d dreamed of, better than any girl he imagined, because it was you, and your body was made for him.

“When was the last time he fucked you?” He was fully inside of you now, and when you didn’t answer, he decided to take it as a sign to move. With a firm grip on your waist, he pulled out just to slam back in, making you yell as you clawed at the seat, wishing there was something to bite on as you endured the pain that was quick to morph into pleasure. 

Every glide pushed you further into the car, your forearms occasionally hitting the door, as his hips moved vigorously, working up to a pace that had you moaning without pause. Tears were flowing down your cheeks at the overwhelming pleasure of being manhandled—of being Hyunjae’s rag doll when he was meant to be yours, and your body seized up, being worked up to your orgasm once more with how precise each thrust seemed to be. 

He adjusted to raise one of your legs to his hip, giving him a new angle to pound into you as he worships you with his dick, and you shook out of pleasure, whining as you saw white and reached your second orgasm for the night. You pulsated around his cock, strangled moans ripping from your throat as tears mixed with your drool by your chin.

And Hyunjae showed no signs of stopping.

He made sure to press your face down against the seats, wanting every liquid to fall and stain his car, giving him something to remember you by.

Oh, and there was the recording too.

While kneeling inside of the cramped car, he slowed his movements and inclined his torso towards you. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your neck and pulled you up, locking you inside his elbow as he forced you to look into your reflection in the car window.

“Look at you, the school’s favorite slut. What happens if the recording drops? The whole school would know you’re mine, wouldn’t they?” He pressed his chest against your back, the mesh rubbing against your skin as his lips remained near your ear, forcing you to listen to every word.

You limped against him, your flames completely burnt out, and your fingers tugged onto the mesh around his arm, successfully ripping it after some time, but Hyunjae seemed unphased. In fact, it turned him on even more knowing that he had you locked in, that you were his.

“Look at your pretty cunt taking me in so well. It was so wet for me, wasn’t it? It still is. And guess what? You’re in my car. You belong to me, and my good girl is only now just finding out about it, isn’t she?” 

“I-I’m…I’m not-...not yours,” you retaliated, creating red angry marks into his skin with your nails as you endured being used, stifling your moans as you looked at how wrecked you were, how bare you seemed to be compared to Hyunjae. You were much more of a mess, from your hair to the bruises on your neck. Your pussy kept tightening up around his dick, convulsing occasionally with every hit toward your g-spot, and you held onto Hyunjae each time. 

Your head drooped down, thinking about how your heart ached for Jiwoong, yet the rest of your body was meant for Hyunjae.

“Whose fucking dick is inside of you right now?” He scoffed and pulled on your hair, forcing your head back up so he could directly speak into your ear. “Wake up, Y/N,” he demanded. “You’re mine.”

He dropped you back onto the seat like you were nothing, leaving you completely helpless, your throat void of any words as your eyes closed and met the back of your skull, too fucked out to communicate. You tried reaching for the door handle, just something to hold onto, yet you couldn’t.

“You tell me I’m pitiful, that I’m basically delusional when you’re going to be the reason my car will smell like sex for weeks.”

Your face was forced back into the puddle of liquid you created earlier, being shifted back and forth against the seat as if you were made for his dick and not vice versa.

“It’s crazy how pathetic you are, how willing you are to break yourself down in front of everyone just to have him. That-...fuck…that you’re so convinced he wants you and you two are soulmates.” He dragged his fingers through your hair and grabbed your roots. “You called me, you wanted me, and I have you right now, moaning my name, and you have nothing.”

Something about his words kept bringing out your orgasms, each thrust adding to the pleasure immensely. You didn’t know how much you could handle—afraid you may pass out from how much he was using you, from his tight grip around you to his dick hitting inside of you mercilessly.

Hyunjae whispering ‘I won, Y/N’ was what had you losing it, your high this time ending up stronger than the rest. You were fully crying now, and yet he continued as if you were nothing.

He peppered your shoulder with kisses and had the slight decency to slow his pace, but he also took note of your sobs.

“Don’t tell me you still want him,” he began rambling, his lips still on your shoulder. “Don’t tell me after this that your heart still belongs to him, because if that were the case, I’d make you call him right now. Say you wish it was him instead of me, and that he’s the love of your life while you’re stuffed with my dick. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You could no longer think, and what you hated most was how reactive your body was—how you were just able to come for the third time, but Hyunjae’s dick solely being inside you snapped some other straw you weren’t aware you had, finding that your last high was incoming. 

Hyunjae had picked up the pace by then, and by knowing your body incredibly well, he reached down to your sensitive clit to relieve you. You both knew your fourth was arriving, and you held on tight to his arm.

“J-Jaehy- hyun, I’m—”

“Mine.”

You cried out, your entire body shaking, and Hyunjae pulled out, immediately releasing onto your back with a guttural moan after yanking off the condom. He was forced to catch his breath, watching you float in and out of consciousness.

Your eyes were closed, struggling to breathe through your sobs, and Hyunjae consoled you with a kiss on the back of your shoulder. 

“You’re mine, Y/N, whether you like it or not.”

He then pressed a kiss to your cheek before leaving to grab paper towels from his trunk. You were heaving, still shaking, and left alone as a mess in his backseat, yet with him gone, you felt even more useless, wanting him back by your side instantly. You weakly cried out for him, your nails dragging against the seat in hopes of being in his arms soon, and maybe he was right.

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — THE BOYZ

© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/

[cloverdaisies]

# UR SUCH AN EMO! ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

— choi chanhee x gn!reader

₊⊹⁀➴ description: the popular kid meets his unconventional match in one of the school’s most hated emo’s. from lab partners to cleaning buddies: the events that caused social royalty to fall in love with someone from the very bottom of the high school food chain. ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

₊⊹⁀➴ genre: angst, fluff, enemies to lovers.

₊⊹⁀➴ word count: 4.1k+

₊⊹⁀➴ a/n: happy belated birthday @sanaxo-o , ily a lot, hope you enjoy this little piece i put together 4 u 🫶 it’s been in the works for a while but i really wanted to complete it for you. ｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

₊⊹⁀➴ warnings: mentions of bullying, frequent arguing.

The sound of crashing drums and noisy guitar riffs leaked from your headphones, lazily dragging your shoes across the pavement as you were unwillingly met with the gates of the hell that was school. As usual, the halls were like the inside of a incredibly overpopulated zoo, with heads being met with the sides of lockers and the boisterous roars of students celebrating the beginning of the last semester of senior year.

You couldn’t be more excited to finish school, considering school simply wasn’t the safest place for anyone with alternative taste in anything. You clumsily made your way to your locker, abruptly pausing the music in your headphones before placing them on the shelf and shutting it with a slam.

“Someone’s not happy.” You sighed at the voice beside you, a familiar voice that has haunted your nightmares since you were at least 14 years old. “If you wear anymore eyeliner, you’re gonna start looking like your cosplaying a panda.”

“Good one.” One of other boys perked up, cheering on the other with a pitiful snicker sucking up to him like a little minion in goggles and dungarees ready to steal the moon.

Sunwoo definitely wasn’t the nicest guy to be around in high school, it certainly didn’t help that your locker was conveniently placed next to his so you got the divine pleasure of seeing him everyday. It also didn’t help that his group of minions congregated around that space 24/7 during every break like they had nowhere else to be.

However, he wasn’t the worst of the bunch. If anything it was a boy called Chanhee, he always had something to say, in fact too many things. “Your headphones are making my ears bleed.” , “Try not to wear black challenge!” , or just simple things sometimes like “I HATE your shoes.” You couldn’t deny you brought that upon yourself after one time you’d made fun of the fact he’d worn a beret to school, yeah the entire, “dAd yOu CaNt dO tHiS i WaNna gO tO fAsHioN sChoOl” comment you’d made didn’t sit well with him.

He stood towards the back of the small circle, him, Sunwoo and Changmin were the only ones that had arrived on time surprisingly, as some of that group seemed to only turn up half way through the day when they felt like it. The others weren’t as bad either, Hyunjae was a nice guy and so was Haknyeon, the rest you hadn’t had too much interaction with, thankfully.

Breezing past them with a sigh, you threw your bag over your shoulder and decided it’s best to ignore them rather than make any attempt to clap back. Besides how could you waste anytime when you had the extremely fun class that was chemistry to rush to?

“Okay class, welcome. Take your seats.” Your chemistry teacher welcomed you in with a jovial smile, his combover gelled so stiffly it would survive a hurricane intact. "We're jumping straight into some lab work today, I've assigned you partners based on ability."

The entire class let out a unanimous groan at the thought of set partners, the excited glances made by bestfriends across the room being replaced with long frowns. However, for you, this was simply the best case scenario since you didn’t have any friends in this class. At least that’s what you thought until the teacher spoke some unfathomable words that sent you spiralling as soon as they fell from his tongue.

“Y/n, you’re with Chanhee on this bay.” He called from the second row, you glanced over at Chanhee who rolled his eyes with a groan grabbing his bag and grumpily shoving it down next to his stool.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy either.” You laughed sarcastically, sitting beside him as he rested his head on the desk in frustration.

The teacher went on to explain the test you’d be carrying out, different chemicals reactivity in water, recording the results and comparing the differences. It was pretty simple, since it’s was just a warm up to ease the class into the semester. Hopefully the time would pass fairly quickly so you wouldn’t have to sit next to mr. miserable for much longer.

“Are you just going to sit there or help?” You sighed, watching the boy sit up with sleepy eyes peaking through the strands of his dyed blonde hair. You passed him a pair of protective goggles, dropping them in front of him as he jolted awake.

“Sorry, I fell asleep you’re that boring.” He replied satirically placing his glasses on. He sported a false smile gleaming off his white teeth, his eyes creasing and smile lines faintly showing at each peak of his lips.

“Charming.” You raised your eyebrows momentarily, filling the plastic basin with water and placing it on the table in front of you. You took turns dropping chemicals into the water watching the the chemicals fizz or even catch light at times. Recording the sound and visual on paper as well as the time taken for it to stop.

“So why do you hate me so much?” You asked the boy curiously, crossing your arms as you watched him scribble down some more notes in his workbook.

“I don’t?” He laughed slightly, shaking his head, his golden earrings dazzling under the light. “I’m more annoyed I have to work with you, because to him, hopefully I can get your grades up.”

“So you’re crying because you think you’re doing charity work? Get over yourself.” You snickered, not breaking eye contact as he stared you down with an intense glare, his pupils darkened in silent rage.

“Maybe you should get over yourself, huh? You ever thought about that, don’t talk to me on your high horse when you had no reason to make fun of me for what I wear in the first place.” Chanhee spat, thankfully the ringing of the school bell paused the argument, diffusing the tension in the air.

The class was dismissed, and in your next few classes you couldn’t stop thinking about what you would have said back to him in that conversation. Perhaps something along the lines of “Isn’t that what you and your group have done to me everyday for the past 5 years?” If the bell hadn’t rang there would have probably been some sort of cat fight break out.

Soon it was lunch, and as you were sitting with your friends on your own table you felt an intense stare across the room. You looked up inquisitively at the feeling of eyes on you, spotting the same group of boys Sunwoo, Chanhee and the others you like to call the minions ( come on they literally have one called Kevin ) staring at you like hawks. You rolled your eyes and continued talking with your friends, eyes occasionally wandering to the other side of the room. You needed another drink, squashing your empty carton of apple juice and throwing it into the trash can nearby —landing a pretty cool trick shot.

“He’s not very happy with you.” A polite voice chimed from in front of you in the line of the canteen, “Said you got in a bit of an argument.”

You turned to see Haknyeon, nibbling on cherry tomatoes from a plastic packet like a small mouse, whilst heartily filling up his lunch tray and sliding it across the surface.

“I can tell that, the minions seem to have a bit of a staring problem.” You chuckled looking over the group where they were trying to land food into each others mouths from large distances, yelling boyishly when Juyeon caught a grape from across the cafeteria.

“He’ll get over it.” Haknyeon shrugged, as he got to the front of the line ready to pay for his food. He held out the plastic packet of tomatoes he was snacking on and offered. “Tomato?”

“No thanks, I hate them.” You laughed slightly, listening to the beep as his card was accepted on the lunch reader.

“More for me then.” He shrugged, stuffing his face with another before flashing the brightest and cutest smile you’d ever seen. You paid for your drink, sitting back at the table with a sigh, glancing back over at Chanhee as he smiled and laughed along with the other boys in glee.

Next period after Lunch was English, the sound of the teacher reciting quotes from The Great Gatsby singing you to sleep like a lullaby. It also didn’t help in front of you, Chanhee and Hyunjae were sat working away taking notes. After the argument you’d had this morning with him, the presence of Chanhee couldn’t put you anymore on edge.

“Hey y/n… y/n? Wake up.” Hyunjae flung a pencil towards your head, abruptly causing you to sit up straight at your desk eyes sensitive to the bright lights around you.

“What?” You rubbed the top if your head where he’d hit and groaned in annoyance. “I was getting a good amount of sleep there.”

“I’m having a party on Friday, you wanna come?” He asked, with bright eyes and a grin of genuine interest spreading across his face.

“You know, I always say no.” You replied with a sarcastic jingle, situating your head back on your desk and yawning tiredly.

“That is not happening. Even if you say yes there is no way I’m letting you come.” Chanhee chimed in with a shocked gasp, laughing to shake off the thought of you being at one of Hyunjae’s events.

“Can’t you just be nice? Y/n’s my friend and actually is pretty damn cool if you get to know-” Hyunjae laughed, thinking the other boy couldn’t be serious but was sharply cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Are you even my friend?” Chanhee scoffed, immediately going back to his work and not making eye contact with him. Hyunjae shrugged at you, offering a sympathetic smile and going back to his own work.

You didn’t pay anymore attention to the pair of them, your head reintroducing itself back to the table planning to nap the rest of the lesson away.

“Jesus wake up.” You felt a push at your arm, “You can’t interrupt my sleep and then start snoozing behind me.”

You looked up at Chanhee in annoyance, raising an eyebrow whilst observing the disgusted look on his face. You smiled, taking a breath, choosing your words carefully before speaking to the brown eyed boy.

“Will you do us both a favor? And stop speaking to me?” You spoke calmly with a false sweetness loading each word like a bitter bullet, watching as his eyes rolled to the top of their sockets and back.

“That’s enough! Y/n and Chanhee! Both of you out of the classroom.” The teacher demanded, fed up of the disruption from the corner of the classroom. You both got up, more than annoyed leaving the classroom door with a slam.

“You’re so dead for this.” Chanhee glared at you in annoyance his palm resting against his forehead as he tried to destress.

“Deserved. If you kept your mouth shut we wouldn’t be here, would we?” You smiled as he sighed, it was quite funny watching him being kicked out of class for the first time — a place you’d been so many times before, but for him it was more than ego crushing.

“What brings you both out in to the corridors?” The sound of heels clicking down the corridor, has both your heads turning towards the principal with a sigh. “Kicked out of class.”

“Not intentionally.” You groaned, hating having to encounter the woman considering she had her eyes on you 24/7 for sleeping through classes and not doing any homework contributing to your grade.

“Y/n, you can’t be pulling down the reputation of some of our best students like Mr. Choi here. Seeing as the both of you aren’t in lesson, the music store room actually needs cleaning and it would be amazing if you could help.” She smiled, passive aggressively clasping her hands together like a fly.

You’ve got to be kidding me, was the only coherent thought to pass your brain, it was only the first day back and you’d already gotten yourself into so much in just a few hours. She brought you to the storage room, where there was clutter everywhere, cardboard boxes, trash, old instruments just scattered over the unseeable floor.

“It might take a few days, so I’ll make sure you both commit to this for at least an hour each day until it’s clean. No free periods after lunch, got it?” She cocked an eyebrow at the two of you, pulling the dusty chain for the dim light bulb that barely lit the room.

“Yes Ms.” You both replied unenthusiastically, beginning to move boxes to make some walking room amongst all the chaos in the room.

“I could really use a coffee right now.” You groaned as the door slammed shut behind her with a deafening screech, the both of you covering your mouths with your forearms due to all the dust.

“You’ve just slept like a sloth for an hour and you need coffee? Pfft.” Chanhee scoffed, adding on a cough at the end blowing the dust out of his face with a look of disgust painted all over his face. “I can’t believe you got me into this.”

“You got yourself into this because you can’t keep yourself quiet, you’re just always dying to say something negative to me.” You put down the box you were carrying into a pile in the corner, the fragile cardboard wearing thin.

“Only because you for, some reason, think it’s okay to be mean to me too!” He snapped back once again referencing the time you’d made fun of his outfit one day, pulling his red sweater over his palms as he lifted another box.

“I was actually gonna say earlier, don’t you think I hear the same thing everyday from your gang of guys? Do you think that one time I made fun of you outweighs the last 5 years of you making them at me?” You turned around, tears welling in your eyes as you spat your words of frustration out in to the air. A moment of silence lingering, the tension in the air so cuttable and cold it felt like shards of ice hitting your skin, the nerves and adrenaline painting a pink color your in your cheeks.

“Just because they made fun of you, or even just Sunwoo, does not mean for even one minute I thought that about you too.” He softened his voice having seen you get so vulnerable on the topic. “Plus you give Hyunjae a pass, why did you go for me? Why did you make fun of me? I still get slander for the way I dress and act to from them-”

“I could ask you why they get a pass? If they’re so mean to you and you don’t think they should be mean to me, then why are you even friends with them?” You laughed in frustration at the boy justifying years of torment to not only you but himself, it simply made no sense.

“Because I don’t know anything else? Is that what you wanted to hear?” He threw up his arms in frustration watching as your lips sealed in silence. “Or the real answer, because I’m too scared to say I got hurt by it? I don’t want to seem fragile or like I can’t take a joke. I’ve known them since when we were kids, they’re still my friends, my day 1’s. That’s the truth.”

Seemingly emotional, he turned around to the wall slightly frustrated he’d let his guard down, however also perhaps in a state of processing the reality of his own actions and feelings. As if he’d had some sort of emotional awakening, as if the cogs finally started turning on why he was so hurt by what you’d said to him. He was hurt by you, because he’d already had his confidence worn down by the same people affecting you.

The both of you began unboxing the items in the storage room in complete silence, not uttering a single word other than a few coughs or mumbles about how much dust was in the room. You began opening a rather dusty box, a large rectangular one attached to a smaller chunkier box. You opened it and let out a quiet “cool” as you found a brand new electric guitar attached to an unopened amp.

“Do we have a power outlet in here?” You turned to Chanhee with an excited smile, he didn’t look up at you but just pointed to a old looking socket on the wall. You plugged in the amp, attaching the connecting wire to the guitar and played a slightly off key chord due to the guitar being untuned.

“Oh my goodness, that’s so loud stop.” Chanhee laughed slightly, a giggle from pure joy, not a sarcastic or mean one, a genuine chuckle. “We don’t have time for this.”

All of a sudden he returned to seriousness, the laughter pausing as quietly you put down the guitar neatly in the corner of the room and unplugged the amp. Clearly it was impossible to clear the air or bitterness with this guy, you may as well give up trying to reconcile at this point.

“I see how it is.” You sighed, lazily continuing the move the plethora of boxes around the room to try at least uncover the floor of the storage room by the end of hour.

Around 10 or so minutes later the bell rang, signalling the end of the day and soon the hallway outside was filled with muffled laughter trapping you both in the musty room until the storm passed. He didn’t say anything to you, asides from slinging his bag over his shoulder and leaving, it felt as if the conversation earlier seemingly had no effect on his feelings of hatred towards you.

Since it was the end of the day, you went to retrieve your headphones from your locker opening it up to a note that read:

“Ur Such An Emo!”

“Real original, ur so funny!” You uttered, crumpling the paper in your fist and letting out a deep sigh before putting your headphones around your neck.

“Didn’t like my note?” Sunwoo asked leaning against his locker with a cocked brow and his arms folded across his black wash denim jacket.

“Not really. I almost forgot how unfunny you were for a second though.” You sighed closing your locker door, only to have your arm gently grabbed back.

“I’m only joking, you do know that, don’t you?” He asked, his condescending smirk saying much otherwise. Despite it being ‘not that deep’ to him of course it was frustrating being the butt of the joke everyday for you.

“Sunwoo shutup for one minute, will you?” Chanhee approached him, pulling his gentle hand from your arm and turning back away from you coldly.

Almost shocked for words, you stood there for a moment before quickly rushing away from the scene down the hallway. Chanhee? Chanhee Choi? Defending you? Perhaps the conversation did have some impact on the way he thought of Sunwoo and his minion clan.

“So about that party, Friday night.” The cheery voice of Hyunjae beside you forced you to take off your headphones on your way out of the gates. “Are you coming?”

“Maybe.” You sighed, clutching your bag on your shoulder with a delayed and airy chuckle.

“That always means no, doesn’t it?” He laughed in response, trying to make eye contact as you only kept your eyes on the pavement ahead.

“Pretty much.” You shrugged, briefly nodding a goodbye to the boy before parting your ways to walk home. The trees hung over the sunny sky in September, leaves drooping, getting ready to decay orange and make the departure from their branches. Birds flying over the neighborhood in crowds, humming the scene a soundtrack as you stepped through your front door home. Crashing into your bed, you huffed wondering why Chanhee had defended you yet still acted as if he hated your guts.

｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ —

Friday soon stumbled upon you, the rest of the week hadn’t been particularly interesting, however Chanhee hadn’t spoken to you since Monday. Everyday the hour at the end of the day that you’d both designated to cleaning the music store room, he remained silent not speaking a word to you everyday, ignoring your questions, jokes and thoughts - only speaking when necessary with the odd “excuse me.” or sometimes even a brief “pass that over.”

Today wasn’t any exception, he strolled in on the last hour without any polite “hello”s or quite frankly any acknowledgment of your presence in the room at all. You’d had enough of trying to entertain yourself with your own thoughts and turned around to the boy with a quick snap. He’d chosen to wear a more toned down outfit than usual that day, straight fitted black jeans with a loose tucked in black t-shirt. In his ears he’d opted for small silver hoops which complimented the thin silver chain around his neck.

“I can’t take it anymore, why’ve you been ignoring me all week?” You huffed out, watching as the boy did nothing but shrug in the most annoying and frustrating fashion. “You don’t know, really? It’s killing me, did I do something to upset you? It can’t be nothing.”

“I’m not sure why I’m ignoring you, I’m actually not.” He sighed, carrying himself within a register that translated words of genuine truth. He finished packing one of the last boxes, placing his palms on the top and beginning to stare into nothing but space.

“Then can you stop?” You laughed walking through to the thin aisle of shelves where you’d been placing organised boxes for the past week. You gently put your last box down, turning and accidentally bumping into Chanhee as you hadn’t noticed he’d moved from his original spot to move his own box.

You caught eye contact with him, forgetting to apologise for bumping into him instead you were lost for words. As you looked into his hazel brown eyes, you couldn’t seem to catch a single coherent thought other than how unreal he looked in the warm lighting above him.

“Can you not? I just nearly dropped my shit.” He rolled his eyes and huffed a huge sigh of frustration forcefully breaking his eye contact with you.

“Jeez I’m sorry, didn’t see you there.” You groaned, returning the eye roll, annoyed he’d began picking arguments with his unpredictable attitude once again.

“If you’re going to apologise try not being rude about it.” He clapped back, you immediately whipped your head back around, slowly walking back up to him and shaking your head in disbelief.

“Shouldn’t you be the one apologising? Didn’t you start the argume-” You began, before you were unexpectedly cut off by him passionately smashing his lips against yours, his hands cupping either side of your face. You couldn’t help but immediately reciprocate the kiss, the shock fading away almost instantly. You pulled away looking at him with a bewildered expression painted across your face, not expecting him to even have that kind of action programmed into his perfect little system.

“Uh, Why? I thought I was ‘such an emo’.” You asked, not being able to contain your laughter as he mirrored your chuckles, a smile plastered on his face as he locked eyes with the ground.

“Well first of all, never tell anyone what I’m about to say or you’re actually dead.” He looked up at you with a pair of sparkly eyes, “I like you? Even though you’re such an emo. I guess.. I have for a while, I always thought your style was really cool and I’m sorry I made fun of you.. I don’t really know why I did it.”

“You’re so awkward quit being so nervous about it.” You laughed as he chewed on his lip trying to hide the nervous grin creeping up. “I guess there’s always second chances, apology accepted.” You teased him, placing a boop on his nose with your finger.

“Thanks.” He spoke softly, his cheeks turning bright pink as you placed a kiss on one side of his face to reassure him. “Uhm, So you coming to that party tonight?”

“Sure I will.” You smiled, grabbing your bag as the last bell of the day sounded. “I guess I like you too, by the way.” You added before quickly escaping through the music storage door, leaving him behind alone, his brain running marathons and his heart beating out of his chest. His phone screen lit up and sending an aggressive bell sound to be muffled thorough the denim of his jean pocket:

y/n: oh and u looked like such an emo today xo

Chanhee laughed, his fingers shaking nervously over his cracked phone screen as he thought of a reply. When he got home he’d continue to text you until the very sunset, when his eyes simply couldn’t stay open any longer. For him, he finally felt accepted for who he was and what he liked — similarly so did you.

[xuqijie]

huh yunjin x f!reader

# tw ; cursing

# genre ; angst, squint for fluff

you’ve always wondered why you were huh yunjin’s victim. but as parents always say, ‘if a boy likes a girl, they’re mean to them’. does it apply here too?

it was still fresh in your memory, the sight of yunjin bowing as she repeatedly apologised. even after knowing her all these years, you were sure that it was the only time she ever said sorry to you. it was just fate that made you two stay in the same school for the rest of your education.

it was still fresh in your memory, the sight of yunjin bowing as she repeatedly apologised. even after knowing her all these years, you were sure that it was the only time she ever said sorry to you. it was just fate that made you two stay in the same school for the rest of your education.

it was still fresh in your memory, the sight of yunjin bowing as she repeatedly apologised. even after knowing her all these years, you were sure that it was the only time she ever said sorry to you. it was just fate that made you two stay in the same school for the rest of your education.

when you were 13 and she was 14, a rumour had spread around the school, saying that you liked this senior. kang hyunjae who was in the same grade as yunjin. she had teased you tremendously, always yelling for hyunjae whenever she saw you.

“stop doing that,” you muttered, hands closing in fists. yunjin cocked an eyebrow before laughing, “why would i stop?”

you were close to lashing out, “why are you doing this to me?”

“your reactions are funny. not my fault you like seniors.” you wanted to slap her. but after all, you were still in the hallway, trying to escape yunjin. you couldn’t even run. she had long legs and well. you weren’t the most athletic person alive.

and luckily for you, kang hyunjae walked past the two of you a second after and yunjin immediately perked up.

“look! it’s the love of your life!” she might as well yell. if you were a little more attentive, you would have heard how her voice wavered ever so slightly. but you wouldn’t have noticed it, you were too busy trying to keep the tears at bay.

the joke about you liking hyunjae went on for 2 more years, yunjin always reminding everyone of it and you were getting sick and tired. your parents had brushed you off, yunjin’s parents were close family friends and of course their daughter would be the same kind and caring girl her parents were.

“y/n!” you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for whatever huh yunjin was about to say. it had been almost 7 years since you first met each other and she still lingered around you. and what could you do? yunjin was one of the popular girls, always outgoing and friendly. (to everyone but you.)

“what?”

“what’s your next class? i have 10 minutes to spare,” yunjin beamed at you. another thing you hated. she acted like the nicest person on the planet in front of others but you were sure that once all the students dispersed from the hallway, she would turn into a bitch again.

you almost refused to answer her but after a nudge on the shoulder, “i have history.”

yunjin smiled, “let me walk you there.”

you hesitated, feeling your heart thump whenever yunjin would shoot that pretty smile at you. but the longer you stared at her, the more you were reminded of the shit she did to you in school.

“please don’t,” you begged, “please leave me alone just for today.” you could swear yunjin’s eyes darkened as she frowned.

“i’m not going to do anything… y/n, i’m—” yunjin was interrupted by one of the soccer players yelling your name. you both whipped your heads and widened your eyes.

hyunjae was running towards you, a stupid grin on his face as he stopped, breath heaving.

“hey! i’m sorry i didn’t talk to you all those years ago, but i hope you’re still into me,” your cheeks reddened as he continued, “i think you’re super pretty, so could we hang out sometime?”

you could practically feel yunjin seething next to you. and that fact alone made you promise to hyunjae that you would meet up with him on a saturday for a date.

“you’re fucking kidding, right?” yunjin had asked after hyunjae left. you were at your locker, taking out your history books.

“what do you mean?”

“you were never into him in the first place! why the hell did he talk to you now?” yunjin exclaimed, annoyed, though you weren’t sure for what reason.

“i don’t know why you’re reacting like this. look yunjin, i’ve tolerated you for long enough and you’re honestly such an asshole. just leave me alone.”

the taller girl turned around, her gaze burning into yours. “are you just going to accept any type of attention from random guys?”

“why the hell are you saying that?” you stared at her, affronted, “leave me alone, yunjin. don’t act like you didn’t cause this in the first place. i don’t know why you’re such a bitch to me. you should grow up.”

“grow up? y/n i’m literally a year older than you.”

“and still acting like a child. why are you so angry over this? why are you acting like this?” you questioned as yunjin stared at you blankly.

a moment passed and she scoffed, trudging off in the opposite direction, leaving you pondering why she was so bothered about some guy asking you out. later, the intercom called for yunjin’s name and you watched as she walked past your classroom, her lip bleeding and knuckles bruised.

it was only after school when you saw yunjin again. her knuckles were wrapped in bandages and face covered with plasters. you wondered whether to talk to her but it seemed that once she caught your glance, yunjin seemed to brighten up slightly. you felt your stomach drop.

“hey, y/n.”

“are you okay?” you asked, concerned even though yunjin was an asshole. the girl smiled and shook her head.

“i’m being suspended for a day, won’t you miss me?” she asked and you swallowed audibly.

“no, i think it’ll be the happiest day of my life.”

yunjin’s smile dimmed but you didn’t notice. “yeah, sure.”

while yunjin annoyed you endlessly, you could never say you hated her. despite all the pranks she pulled, all the mean jokes she would say, you never uttered words of hatred.

not until you were 17 and she was 18. being elected student council president was a dream and an unreachable one in fact. you were appointed vice, but couldn’t help feeling upset at the fact that hwang yeji was president.

but that didn’t mean you were on bad terms with her, it was actually the opposite. the student council was flooded with tasks and errands to do every day, forcing you to spend more time with yeji and less with yunjin. it was actually better for you, not having to see yunjin’s face every second was refreshing. (or at least you convinced yourself it was.)

“y/n.” you ignore her. another paper ball comes flying at you. “y/n.”

“shut up.”

you had no idea who on earth let yunjin in. actually, it was probably kim chaewon, seeing how the two of them were best friends. but kim chaewon was actually a sweetheart. you still had no idea why she always lingered around you, mocking you for any mistake occurring.

“y/n.” you grit your teeth. if the paperwork wasn’t tiring enough, you had another child to babysit and this child knew how to swear.

“huh yunjin, what do you want? spit it out now or leave.”

“i want you to pay attention to me.”

“i’m doing paperwork. go find someone else,” you say, frustrated building up.

you see yunjin’s pout in the corner of your eye and you almost throw a chair at her.

“i don’t want anyone else.”

“why? ‘cause my reactions are funny? go find another girl to annoy, yunjin. i don’t have time for you anymore.”

right as yunjin is about to retort, the door opens and yeji pokes her head inside.

“y/n! there you are! oh, hi yunjin!” yeji greets, waving her hand. you frown at yunjin’s stubbornness to wave back or even acknowledge yeji’s presence.

“you’re looking for me?”

“yeah! it’s our break time, wanna go get ice cream?” yeji suggest. the mere thought of ice cream in the hot weather makes you salivate and you find yourself nodding instantly.

as you pack up your papers and get ready to leave, a grip catches your hand.

“y/n,” yunjin say slowly, “can i talk to you alone?” you smile sheepishly at yeji who closed the door, not before sending you a wink.

“yeah?”

yunjin tighten the grasp of your hand. “didn’t you say you were busy?”

“well yeji invited me—”

“what if i wanted to ask you too? why did you just agree to yeji and not even bother looking at me?” yunjin raises her voice. “if i were yeji, you would have just told me to go away! so what’s the difference between us?”

you look at her, confused.

“what are you talking about? yeji’s a close friend. i’m not sure why you’re so worked up over this.”

“because you… you said you were busy but once yeji comes, you’re suddenly free? and don’t tell me to find someone else!” she yell as you stumble back, startled.

you gulp, “stop yelling—”

“don’t tell me what to do! stop asking me to leave you alone! and just let me stay with you! for once!”

a knock is heard on the door.

“y/n, you okay in there?” yeji’s concerned voice makes yunjin’s blood boil further and she once again pulls your wrist tighter.

“tell her to leave,” yunjin almost growls out. you had never seen her so angry before and it was actually frightening.

heart racing, you place your free hand on her collarbone, in case she were to make any rash decisions. “yeji? i need to deal with some stuff first. you go on without me, okay? sorry, i’ll go with you next time.”

after yeji’s agreement to leave, you turn your attention back to yunjin who was breathing heavily.

“what’s wrong with you?”

she doesn’t reply and instead focuses her gaze onto the hand lingering on the intersection between her collarbone and shoulder. you bring it higher and rub her shoulder soothingly. she was clearly still worked up about god knows what and you had to calm her down before she started yelling again.

“stop shouting like a spoiled brat. i’ve given you my attention for these past few years and you’ve only been an asshole to me. so don’t act like this when i’m finally happy with the people around me,” yunjin looks down, ashamed. “i’m serious. i don’t know why you’re so hellbent on annoying me. i don’t know why you always act like this. you’ve made me cry so many times, you know that?”

“i…”

“can you act your age for once? i’ve dealt with you long enough. i want you to seriously leave me alone,” you sigh, adjusting the hem of her shirt to be proper.

yunjin looks up and for a moment, you think she’s finally understood where you’re coming from. but she raises her hand and there is only a slap heard in the room. you can only stare at her from the side, a tired look on your face with a stinging cheek.

“i thought you wouldn’t lay a hand on me,” you say quietly. the silence drags on and yunjin seems to just realise what she did.

“i-i didn’t mean… y/n, i’m sorry—”

“i fucking hate you, yunjin. i hope you do well in the future. i would apologise but don’t think you’ve done anything to receive an apology from me.”

yunjin eyes you desperately, holding any part of your body she could reach.

“y/n, i’m so sorry, fuck, i didn’t mean that..”

you shake your head and brush her hands off you. she looks at you, pleading as you take out your cell phone and message yeji. and just as you’re about to leave, you feel strong arms wrap themselves around your torso, yunjin’s heavy breathing making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

“don’t go. please.”

your heart thumps.

“y/n, please don’t go to her.”

a shiver runs through your body as she whispers.

“just please listen to me, okay? if after all of this, you still want to leave… i’ll let you go,” you nod stiffly and try to turn around but yunjin stops you, “i can’t watch your reaction. don’t turn around.” you nod again.

“that time i made fun of you for liking hyunjae. it was because i heard that his friend had a crush on you and i wanted him to not confess,” you frown, “so i told everyone you liked hyunjae and made sure it spread to his friends. i didn’t expect… for him to actually like you.”

“so?” you ask, “i still have no idea what you’re trying to say.”

yunjin takes a deep breath. “i’ve had a crush on you since we first met in primary school. you were so pretty and cute and i was a dumb kid who thought that the only way you could express your feelings to someone was by being mean. i liked you when hyunjae confessed and i was so upset about it, i went to go find him. and he was bragging to his friends about how he managed to delude you… i couldn’t control myself and i just punched him. that’s why i was suspended for a day.” she sighs.

“what—”

“i love you now, when you smile at cat videos, trip over air, accidentally hit your head on cabinets… i love you so much and i’m so jealous of yeji for always being near you,” yunjin confesses and you feel the air being swept away from your lungs. “me loving you isn’t an excuse for how i treated you. but please forgive me. it’s all my fault. don’t leave me. i love you so much, y/n.”

a strange sensation hits your neck and you realise yunjin is crying. you squirm out of her grasp and gently pat her back as she tucks her face into the crook of your neck. the height difference makes it awkward but you only focus on her.

huh yunjin, the bane of your existence and apparently, you’re the only reason she exists.

“i’m still upset. you slapped me, yunjin.”

“i… i know.”

“don’t do that ever again, okay?” as you utter those words and rub her back, comforting her, yunjin bursts into tears and sobs into your neck. “i’m so sorry.”

“it’s okay. you’ll just have to work extra hard for my attention. but no jealous fights or mean insults anymore. and if you hit me again, i’ll be gone from your life forever,” you mumble.

yunjin looks up at you with teary eyes and you feel your heart stutter.

“i love you, y/n.”

[cupidjyu]

detention for romance

hyunjae x reader

summary (because this is strangely long): as the president of the student council, you're faced with expectations. what you don't expect is to be put in detention with the student that you've heard endless negative rumors about... but he's not as bad as you had thought

genre: school au, unrealistic high school romance (yawns), flirty hyunjae, gosh he is such a waist grabber, he punched someone, but its all okay!!! he has a little sister, close proximity in a library lol, soft moments, falling asleep on his shoulder, oblivious reader, constant constant bickering, getting together, kissing, high schoolers who unrealistically make out (yawns again), slight neck kissing, cursing, younghoon sunwoo cameos notes: im not even going to talk about it word count: 10.5k (woops)

Whenever the name Lee Hyunjae was spoken in a noisy classroom, bustling hallway, or bathroom with a leaking sink, it would always be accompanied by a wince. People would contort their faces in worry whenever someone even mentioned his name or they would take the long way to get to the history classroom if it meant they wouldn’t have to come face-to-face with him.

Lee Hyunjae. The student in class 1-B was closed off and considered the scariest one ever. Some never dared to speak his name, behaving like he was that one villain with no nose from those Harry Potter movies. He never talked to anyone and if an unknowing new student ever tried to, he would stare at them silently. Some people say that he glares. Some say that he rolls his eyes.

“I heard that he’s in a gang and murders children for money,” Your classmate once said. Class 1-A loved to talk about him, hence why you strangely knew so much. You looked up from your sketchbook.

“Children? Of all types of people?” You squinted.

“Doesn’t he seem like the type to hate children?” She replied. “C’mon, you’re the president of the student council.”

You frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re supposed to be smart.”

You shut your mouth at that. Maybe, you were book-smart. Street smart? You could never decipher why people hated Hyunjae so much. But then again, you never saw him before. Maybe he was just quiet. Or maybe he really was in a gang and murdered children for money. All you knew was that he was not part of your business so you couldn’t care less.

Besides, you had a student council meeting to host after this.

—

“What do you mean you lost the one thing that we needed?” You whined, staring straight at Sunwoo. “This event is the last one of the year and you—“ You sighed, pinching the area between your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” He cried. “It’s not my fault someone crashed my car on the way here and they fell out.”

You pouted. “Are you okay at least?”

He grinned, motioning to himself. “All in one piece.”

The one thing was actually the flower garlands for the spring party that you were tasked to plan. They were supposed to hang from the ceiling, along with string lights to resemble a pretty forest. Being the president of the student council was quite tiring. In fact, you never even intended to become one. You just happened to have decent grades.

The spring party was in just a few hours and if there were no flower garlands, then the highly anticipated party would be empty and disappointing. You couldn’t quite afford the embarrassment, especially from how many tickets you had sold.

“What do we do?” You sighed. “You can just start decorating with what we have then.”

A few of the students nodded. As they left, another member, Younghoon, approached you with a small smile. He was tall and often looked innocent like he had done no wrong. But really, he was anything but that. He loved to joke around and break the rules. You wondered how he even got into the council with such a record.

“You know,” He started, leaning against one of the rickety desks. He wobbled slightly against it, ruining the “cool” facade he decided to put on. “The main office has some of those garland things. Last year, they had a flower sale so they used those as decorations. I saw them in the closet when I was caught cheating on a test.”

You stared at him with a bored expression. “You got caught cheating on a test?”

He groaned. “Yes, and I failed the class. But that’s beside the point! You should go to the office and get the flower garlands. You’ll be just in time.”

You really contemplated it for a second. “Can I really? What do I say?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “The principal doesn’t let any student borrow supplies for parties and such.”

You frowned. “You’re of no help then.”

Younghoon gave you a confused smile. “What do you mean? Just… kindly borrow them. Just for one day.”

You gaped at them. “You mean to steal them?”

He nodded as if that was the simplest thing ever. “Just sneak in and grab them. What could go wrong?”

“I am no thief,” You grumbled.

“Then I guess your party will suck then.”

You gasped. “You take that back.”

“Never.” He stuck his tongue out and then he turned towards the door. “Just think about it, won’t you? Code to the closet is 1026 by the way.” He winked as he turned down the hallway with a small wave.

You were left in the empty classroom speechless. There was no way you would steal from the school. That would result in serious consequences and you couldn’t ruin your reputation. With an abrupt shake of your head, you headed out. 

And then you stopped. To the right, was the gymnasium where the party was being set up. To the left, was the main office with the flower garlands. You bit your lip, whipping your head from either side. 

You ultimately turned left.

“What am I doing, what am I doing?”

–

Why did every single door of the school have to creak? Holding your breath, you peeked inside. Your eyes surveyed the room. It seemed that everyone else had left except for two people, talking in the very corner. This was the perfect chance, as you could see the closet, just on your right.

As quietly as you could, you stepped inside, hurrying over the old-looking closet that looked like it could collapse at any moment. 

Just get the flowers and get out. 

Your hands were practically shaking as you turned the lock.

1…0…

“Punching a student is not tolerated in this school.” 

You inhaled sharply at the familiar voice of the principal, but you turned back to the lock, determined to go unnoticed.

2…

“Miss, I had my reasons.” Another voice, younger, almost like he was in your grade. He sounded tired and annoyed.

“That boy ended up with a broken nose. What possible reason could there be for that?” The principal was stern. 

You paused for a second. But still, there was one more number left.

…6

With a proud smile, you silently unlocked the closet. And there it was, like an oasis in a dry desert, the flower garlands. They were prettier than the ones you had previously. Your smile grew. Oh, the party was going to be beautiful.

You were just about to grab the flowers and escape when the younger student spoke up again. “My little sis–”

“What are you doing over there?”

Clenching your jaw, you froze. Then you whipped around, only to face the principal who was staring back at you with an angry expression. Behind her, was a tall man. He must be a student as he was dressed in the typical uniform. His tie was loose and his shirt was untucked, which usually resulted in being dress coded. He didn’t seem to care though as he tilted his head at you with a nonchalant expression, one hand in his pocket. 

You smiled nervously. “I was borrowing something.”

“You aren’t permitted to take anything from there. How did you even get the code?” The principal spoke sternly. “You should be setting a better example. As president of all people.”

You frowned. “But, I needed it for the par–”

“You don’t need it.” She interrupted you. “What you do need is detention. Both of you.”

“What?” You exclaimed. “I swear that I–” But it was of no use, as she was already writing your name up, as well as the other student’s. You peered at his chest only to find that there was no name tag. You sighed. This was not how you expected things to go.

“Detention.” She handed both of you the paper. “In which you both will be sweeping the art room, organizing the library, and cleaning classroom 1-B.”

“Miss,” The man complained, stepping forward. You widened your eyes when you realized just how tall he actually was. “All they did was try to steal stuff. How is that–”

The principal only raised her eyebrow at the word “steal.”

You nudged his shoulder harshly. “You’re not helping,” You whispered frantically.

He gave you a small smirk. “Well you’re not very good at stealing now are you?”

You flushed at that. “I was just trying to–”

“No more objections,” The principal stated. “Attend the party… or whatever. But you will report to detention tomorrow afternoon.”

You sighed and walked away. The man, whom you’ve now nicknamed “dickhead,” quickly caught up to you. You glanced at him with narrowed eyes, refusing to say anything. Close up, you realized that he wasn’t bad looking. He had a tall nose bridge and deer-like eyes that would be considered kind-looking if it wasn’t for the constant teasing look on his face.

“Stealing from Miss principal,” He spoke up, his voice laced with amusement. “I admire your bravery.”

You rolled your eyes, walking faster. He continued to trail behind you. With annoyance, you whipped around, already agitated from the past events.

“Why are you following me?” You frowned.

He smiled. “Don’t you need a date for this party? I’m trying to ask you out.” 

You widened your eyes, your throat closing up suddenly. “Wh–what?”

He stared at you for a good minute. And then he motioned to the side with a laugh. “Just kidding, my locker’s right here.”

You groaned and turned around. Your hands clenched into fists as you stormed down the hallway. 

“Dickhead.”

Little did you know, that he was watching you rush down the hallway with curious eyes. 

–

Cursing at the couple who decided to make out right in front of your locker, you rushed down the stairs, your hands fumbling to fix your hair. Turning the corner, you were met with the entrance of the art room.

To say the least, your friends and fellow classmates were in much shock when they found out that you of all people had gotten detention. Again, you couldn’t care less. You just needed to get this over with. 

Perhaps this could be a great learning experience! You smiled painfully. 

I hate this.

Peeking through the window of the door, you could see that same man, sitting at one of the tables. Again, his uniform was awfully undone. The tie was loose like before and this time, the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. You sighed, looking down at your uniform. Neat and ironed, because you were always expected to set an example.

Slowly, you opened the door. He looked up and his lips immediately lifted up into a coy smile.

“You’re late.”

“There were some… issues.” You shivered at the thought. Out of all places, they were kissing in front of your locker?

He laughed at your expression and he stood up from the table. And then he squinted at your name tag.

“Your name is?”

“You can’t read?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Bad eyesight.” He grinned.

“Y/n,” You sighed.

He nodded. “I already knew that.”

“What?” You stared at him with confusion.

“President of student council,” He stated. “I hear about you a lot.”

“Then why’d you ask…” You muttered to yourself.

“Formality reasons.” He shrugged. “Like you would for me. You probably hear about me a lot too.”

You frowned as you reached over to pick up the brooms, handing one to him. He stared at it blankly, and so you sighed with frustration and thrust it into his chest.

“I don’t know you though,” You replied.

He raised an eyebrow. And then he stepped closer, looking down at you with a disbelieving look. You gulped, taking a step backward.

“You’re funny,” He whispered. 

“I’m not trying to be.”

“You really don’t know?” He widened his eyes. “Lee Hyunjae?”

And that was when the world suddenly came crashing down on you. It all came together like pieces of a puzzle. The constantly messy uniform, the smirk on his lips, the whole reason that he was in detention in the first place? Punching a student. 

You gasped, taking an even wider step backward. His eyes almost dimmed at your action along with his smile faltering with… something like hurt.

“You’re Hyunjae?” You mumbled.

He nodded. “And now you’re going to run away like everyone else does.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’m just wondering…” You spoke with astonishment. “You’re not even that scary.”

He gaped at your words, his broom almost slipping out of his hands. “Scary?”

You snorted. “You have no idea what my class says about you.” You turned away for a second, beginning to sweep up all the colored pencil shavings and cut-up paper.

“Amuse me.” He appeared by your side with a small smile. You watched as he began to help you clean up the floor. You shouldn’t be so surprised but with what so many people say about him, you couldn’t help but be a little bit shocked that he was doing a basic household task.

“Are you in a gang?” You looked up at him with a stifled laugh.

“Yes,” He spoke. You eyed him suspiciously. “No,” He finally sighed. “That would be cool though.”

“Do you murder children for money?”

He winced and looked at you. “Do you believe these things?”

You shrugged. “Just curious.”

Hyunjae groaned, batting your broom with his, causing you to glare at him. “I’m a perfectly normal student.”

“Okay…” You muttered. “Then why’re you in detention for punching one?”

He grew silent at that. When you looked up at him, you could see that his jaw had clenched. He didn’t answer the question either, as he abruptly walked away to clean up somewhere. You stared after him, trying to decipher his strange reaction. 

After a few more lazy broom sweeps across the floor, you turned to him, only to see that Hyunjae had stopped. He seemed to be staring at an open sketchbook on one of the tables. Quietly, you walked behind him. That was when you realized… that was your sketchbook.

Other than managing school things, you secretly enjoyed drawing in one. It was when you could escape from all your responsibilities, instead choosing to focus on doodling and perfecting a pretty picture. And you must have left it here the other day when it had mysteriously gone missing.

With a squeak, you lunged forward and shut it closed.

He jumped and stared at you in shock. That was when you came to the realization that he was sort of… cute when surprised with the way his eyes were round and his lips parted.

“Those drawings were not mine,” You rambled.

He stared at you, unimpressed. “Thanks for confirming that they’re yours.”

You sighed with defeat. “You weren’t supposed to see them. It’s private.”

His eyes searched yours. “I didn’t turn a single page. It was just open. Besides…” He trailed off. “That one drawing was very good.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling your cheeks grow warm. “Oh,” You stuttered. “Thank you.”

He gave you a small smile. Suddenly, all of those rumors that you’d heard of him had completely dissipated from your mind. You straightened up, studying him with perplexion. He wasn’t half bad. Just… a little quiet.

He pulled out one of the stools and sat down, inviting you to do the same. Cautiously, you did so, facing him with sudden nervousness.

“Can you show me another?” He asked, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity. “If you’re comfortable.”

You faltered over a breath. You watched him for a second, wondering if he was going to maybe burst out into laughter and claim that he was just joking. But instead, he only stared back expectantly.

“Okay,” You whispered. With shaky hands, you searched through your sketchbook, choosing one of your favorites. Hesitantly, you turned it around. He studied it quietly. And then he looked back up at you with a soft smile.

“Aren’t you talented?” He murmured.

You were sure that your cheeks were completely red now. Shutting the book with a loud bang, you looked down at your lap. “Shut up.”

“I’m being serious,” He chuckled. “My little sister likes to draw too, you know.”

You looked up at him in surprise.

“Little sister?” 

He nodded, a sudden fond expression taking over his usual bored one. “She’s adorable. And she somehow looks up to me. I advise her not to.”

You gave him a soft smile. “She must look up to you for a reason.”

He snorted. “I try to set an example. But I’m afraid she’ll become closed off like me. She’s very bright.”

You could practically feel your heart bloom. The way that he spoke of her with such a gentle voice put a funny feeling in your stomach.

“You must love her.”

“I do,” He said with an affectionate tone. “That’s why I’m here in the first place.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, toying with the broken spine of the sketchbook. He quickly noticed your confusion and he sighed.

“She wanted these drawing supplies. You know, the ones with unicorns and colorful rainbows on them. So naturally, as a great older brother, I bought them.”

You laughed at that. He gave you a small smile back.

“But I was also late to school so…” His ears turned red. “I had to bring them here.”

“And?” You watched him curiously.

“The other guys in my class noticed.” He frowned. “They threatened to steal them and when they found out that it was for my little sister, they even said some mean things about her. They haven’t even seen her before.”

“Oh,” You breathed out, guiltily. “Is that why you punched one of them?”

He nodded with a sigh. “It’s okay. She was happy to receive them.” He grinned fondly. “She even gave me a hug.”

“So you’re the protective type,” You wondered. You looked at him with kind eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

He shrugged. “As long as she’s happy.”

You gave him a slight smile as you stood up from the stool. Motioning to the door that led directly to the school courtyard, you turned to him. “Would you like to take a walk? We're done here anyway.” Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave right after finishing cleaning since the principal had set a certain mandatory time for both of you to stay here. Quite stupid in fact. 

But, you adored the school courtyard. Especially when it was bright and sunny, all the flowers along the trail brought a certain peace to your usually stressed mind.

Hyunjae looked at you with slight surprise. “Me?” 

“Who else?” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Don’t know. No one usually asks me these types of things. You’re a nice change of pace.”

Your eyes softened at that. Well, up until he—

“Getting clingy for me already?”

You gawked at him. “No? Oh my god, I was being a perfectly nice friend, and you…“

Hyunjae raises his hands up like he was being arrested as he heads for the door, gesturing that you go first. He laughed, “Sorry, sorry. And are we really friends now?”

“If you would like?” You looked at him unsurely.

“Great.” He gave you a kind smile.

As you walked, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“So you’re just a quiet person?” You spoke up.

He turned to you. “I guess so. I promise I don't usually punch people.” He winced at the thought.

You snorted. “I get it. You were just being a good older brother.”

He hummed as he kicked at a pebble, watching it roll away.

“How was the party?” He asked quietly. “And don’t tell me you actually needed a date because I would have gladly—“

“Oh we don’t have to talk about it,” You whined. “It was a mess. Everyone was disappointed and I felt like such a failure.”

He smirked. “I mean it wasn’t all a failure.”

You looked at him. And now that you were getting a proper look, you found that he was much better than decent-looking. He was handsome. You’ve witnessed the kind side of him already and so the teasing smile on his lips began to become almost… charming.

“How’s that?” You narrowed your eyes. “You weren’t even there.”

“But I saw you. On the way home.” You could’ve sworn he did a once-over as if he was imagining you in your party attire again. “You looked beautiful.”

Your retort was caught in your throat as quickly as a spark of fire. Almost tripping on a crack in the ground, you cleared it and turned away.

“Thank you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that he was still watching you intently. “Still think it was a failure.”

When there was no response, you looked back up only to meet Hyunjae’s amused expression. He was smiling at you softly and his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischievousness.

“What is it?” You spoke cautiously.

“Nothing.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes wandering to one of your ears. “Your ears turned red.”

Stuttering, you shoved him harshly in the chest. “Shut up. And your uniform! It’s all messed up.”

He grinned wider, leaning close so that he could whisper right into your ear where supposedly, they were red from embarrassment.

“It’s a stylistic choice.”

Inhaling sharply, you pulled away, his low voice leaving shivers down your spine. “W-well it’s a horrible one. So face me.”

He easily complied, shockingly. Your fingers hesitated at his chest, multiple red alarms going off in your head asking what the hell are you doing? Ignoring them, you began to button up his white dress shirt. Accidentally, your fingers brushed against his bare skin in which you could see that he gulped. You smiled slightly, glad to know that you also had an effect on him.

Then, your hands came down to his loose tie, pulling it right up to his collar. You desperately tried to ignore his watchful eyes, looking down at you.

“Done,” You breathed out as you tried to avoid his knowing eyes. “And tuck your shirt in yourself.” 

“So you’re not going to shove your hands down my pants today? Disappointing.”

“You dirty-minded moron.” Checking your watch, you realized that you could have left long ago. 

But he stopped you, his hand catching your wrist.

“Your hair.” He approached you this time, his large hand smoothing down a lock of hair. Just as you thought he was done, he tucked one piece behind your ear, his touch gentle and almost caring. “There.” He smiled. “I returned the favor.”

A quiet “thank you” was all you could muster. Your heart was beating abnormally fast. It didn’t help that he decided to tuck another piece of hair behind your other ear, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek.

“I didn’t know I looked like a mess,” You muttered.

“Still pretty to me.” He smiled.

And so with a wave, you said goodbye to Lee Hyunjae who wasn’t so scary after all. With a quirk of his lip, he waved back.

—

“Look who’s late this time?” You lifted an eyebrow as you leaned against one of the many bookshelves. Contrary to popular belief—by that you mean, your classmates who still think that you’re some literature god who can decipher every single piece of Shakespeare just by skimming through the plays—you didn’t often come to the library.

It was rickety and had odd lighting, making everything seem orange and dark. In front of you were two carts, filled with books that needed to be returned to their rightful home. What a boring detention task. How’s this supposed to teach you to do the right thing?

Hyunjae approached you with an obviously faked guilty look. “Sorry about that.” His voice was oddly croaky. As if he had just woken up. “I fell asleep. Physics is really boring.”

So he really did just wake up.

You gazed at him wordlessly. And then you walked forward, pushing one of the carts straight into his stomach. With how tired he was, he couldn’t quite register the feeling yet.

And then he groaned in pain.

“Y/n.” He scowled. 

You smiled cheekily. “Let’s get this over with.”

“After you,” He sighed, motioning to the first section labeled Historical Nonfiction.

As you two wandered the various bookshelves, placing the books back, the two of you had a few casual conversations. Sometimes, Hyunjae would make you laugh. And sometimes, you would just feel the need to fix his tie and collar all over again.

“Your uniform,” You grumbled. “It bothers me.”

He smirked. “Want to button it up for me again?”

You swallowed thickly. “No. Do it yourself.”

“But I like when you do it for me,” He replied, unabashed.

“Be quiet,” You snapped, slapping his hand with a book in which he winced. 

It grew quiet after that. Still, the silence was never one that was awkward or made either of you uncomfortable. It was just… simple. The shuffling of your clothes and the thump of books being placed on the shelves. But there was one question that continued to linger in your mind.

“Hey, I have something to ask.” You turned to him. 

“Hm?”

“Who were the guys who made fun of you? And the one that you punched?” You asked.

He paused, looking at you indecisively. “And what are you going to do with them if I tell you?”

“Nothing,” You replied. “Just curious.”

He eyed you suspiciously but he ultimately exhaled deeply. “There were only two. One being the guy who ran against you for student council…”

Your mouth dropped open at that. Oh, how you hated that guy. He was obnoxious, had an incredibly loud and squeaky voice, and he absolutely loved bothering you. He once even tried to sabotage one of your events.

“And the other was the captain of the football team. The one I punched.”

Now you were gaping at Hyunjae like he was crazy.

“You punched him?”

“Yeah, and?” He widened his eyes cutely.

“But he’s seems so… strong,” You wondered. You had seen the way he plowed through other players in games.

He gave you a slightly crooked smile. “But look who’s broader?” 

You grew quiet at that. And you must be insane because your eyes quite literally scanned over Hyunjae. Were his shoulders always this wide? And the way that his sleeves were rolled up slightly to reveal his arms were so–

“Focused?” He teased, leaning closer.

“Mhm,” You breathed out. “They’re assholes.”

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “Well, what can I do? At least I get to spend more time with you.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching back into the cart. Reading the number on it, you internally groaned when you realized that it was meant to be on the very first shelf. The one at the very top. Biting your lip slightly, you reached up. To no avail, you couldn’t quite extend far enough.

That was when you felt a chest being pressed up to your back. Hyunjae’s chest. He took the book from your hand, his skin brushing with yours as he placed the book for you. Gulping thickly, you looked up, only to meet his soft eyes. He lingered there for a moment, leaving you to realize that he smelled good. Very odd observation to make.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him with utter shock.

“Shy, dear president?” He whispered. “Your ears are red again.”

“I’m–” You jerked a thumb behind you, desperately trying to escape. “I’m going to go. Th-thank you.”

“Anytime.” He gave you an annoyingly flirty wink as he pushed his own cart. The two of you went your separate ways.

You hummed to yourself as you worked on your own section. But you slowly stopped when you realized just how lonely it was without Hyunjae around to tease you or talk about random topics. Still, you prevailed. After what happened, you weren’t sure if you could face him again.

With a tired sigh, you pushed the cart, rounding the next corner. That was when you saw two boys. One had an annoyingly high-pitched voice, almost like a stupid mouse. You recognized him. The other walked with his chest funnily puffed out. You also recognized him. The football captain. So Hyunjae really is broader, you wondered to yourself.

But then you froze. Hyunjae is right here, in this room. And if they saw him– 

Leaving your cart behind, you whipped around, weaving through the many bookshelves. With rapid breaths, you searched for him, only for you to ultimately run straight into his firm back.

He jumped, turning around.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t reply. Without a second thought, you grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him along. You dragged him into another section. Then, you pushed him against the bookshelf, pressing your body close up to him. Again, you were surrounded by his scent which still smelled incredibly good, much to your demise.

He stayed silent, studying you with a tilt of his lips. You stared back up at him. You should be explaining but instead, you seemed to be in a trance over how warm his body was and how his lips were very–

“What’s this?” He finally purred, his voice low.

“Shush,” You whispered. When you realized that he was staring down at your lips, you shut your eyes and pressed your forehead against his chest shyly. “I saw them. I’m trying to hide you.”

“Oh,” He breathed in slight surprise. Then he huffed out with amusement. “I don’t think this is really working,” He teased. “They could still see me. Plus, it seems like it’s you who’s hiding. In my chest specifically.”

Clearing your throat, you lifted your head and looked up at him with embarrassment. 

“But that’s kind of you.” He grinned.

“Shh.” You pressed a finger to his lips. He only smiled wider. The two of you stayed in that position for a few more minutes that almost began to feel like hours. His hands were straight at his sides as if he were afraid to touch you. You were still pressed up against him, your hand resting on the bookshelf and the other toying nervously with the hem of your clothes.

Once you were sure that there were no more voices, you pulled away, brushing yourself off. You were about to make a joke to clear the tension that had suddenly built up when you heard a man talk. Specifically, the football captain. The one that Hyunjae had punched. 

“Hold on,” He called out to the other boy. “I need a book for my Greek mythology project.”

You glanced at the nearby sign that clearly, ironically, and very unfortunately read Greek Mythology. You turned back to him with panic.

“Hyunjae–”

He stared at you silently. You gasped when you felt a hand snake around your waist.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“What?” You replied with alarm. “You’re asking me that now?”

“Do you?” Hyunjae repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

You gulped. “Yes.”

And in just a second, he had flipped you around so that the ridges of the bookshelf jutted into your back this time. His hand tightened around your waist and his other hand wandered to your upper back. 

“Wha–”

“Close your eyes.”

Your mind was already rushing with a million thoughts. But you still followed his order, shakily shutting your eyes closed. That was when you were only left with your sense of hearing, smell, and touch. You could hear him, feel him shuffle closer. You could hear his breath against your ear. Why was he so close? And then you felt his lips–his very warm lips–brush against your neck.

Inhaling sharply, your whole body went rigid.

He didn’t do anything else, you soon realized. He simply lingered on your neck, breathing slowly as his hands continued to pull you closer. Hyunjae had you trapped in his arms, his lips just centimeters away from the spot under your jawline. Yet he never made contact. Except for that accidental brush that sent goosebumps down your whole body.

That was when you heard the guy’s voice again and his footsteps approaching.

“It’s here– what the hell? Nevermind. And get a room.” 

And then the footsteps receded.

After what felt like forever, Hyunjae stepped away. He seemed to be experiencing the same effect with the way he was breathing heavily and his cheeks were tinted red. But this was his doing after all.

You opened your mouth and closed it repeatedly, trying to find the words to say. And then you shoved him by the chest.

“What was that for?” You exclaimed. Your hand came up to that same spot on your neck, which felt warm from his breathing. You felt a flush from head to toe. “You almost– kissed me.”

“That was the point,” He replied. “To make it look like we were making out and having the time of our lives.” His eyes continued to linger on your lips and that specific area on your neck. “What perfume do you use? It smells amazing. Pretty like you.”

You froze. And then you groaned with frustration.

“I didn’t– wear perfume today,” You muttered. “And was that the best you could do? We couldn’t– run away? You had to…” You trailed off, the sensation coming back to you all over again. “Do that thing?”

“What thing?” He smirked. “Almost kiss your neck?”

“Yes,” You mumbled. “That.”

He thought for a moment. 

“Because,” He whispered, leaning closer. “This is more fun.” He adjusted your crumpled collar, his hands lingering there, before looking back up at you with a teasing smile. “Your ears are red again.”

And then he walked away, leaving you to stare after him in complete shock. Lee Hyunjae was not scary at all. In fact, he made your heart beat faster. Much, much faster.

–

“Can I take you out somewhere?” He had come up to you after all the books had been put away. You still couldn’t quite look him in the eyes. And it seemed that he noticed as his eyes glinted with mischievousness. 

“Okay,” You replied, still avoiding his eyes like your life depended on it. “Where to?”

“I’ll tell you when you look me in the eye.”

His finger hooked under your chin, forcing you to anyway. You inhaled sharply.

“I’m looking now,” You whispered with your voice wavering.

“I was thinking, roller-skating?”

Your eyes brightened at that. “Oh yes! That would be so fun. We’re going to have so much fun.” You turned on your heel, bounding out the door.

You missed the way Hyunjae gazed at you with fondness.

–

“This is not fun,” He muttered. His knuckles were practically white with how hard he was holding on to the railing. You giggled at the sight as you easily glided past him. He watched you with a glare.

“Do you need help?” You called out to him, taking note of the way his legs wobbled like a baby deer.

“I do not,” He huffed, trying to save his pride. But then he paused. “Can you… maybe?” Now it was his turn to not look you in the eye.

“Of course.” You smiled, appearing by his side. You held out your hand in which he stared at it in confusion. “Take it,” You urged. “And follow me.”

It was strange to see how easily his flirty persona had completely disappeared at this moment. You liked this side of Hyunjae: his eyes round and nervous, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and his lips pulled into a concentrated pout. All it took was for him to choose to go roller skating. Even though he couldn’t even roller-skate himself.

Hesitantly, he took your hand in his. You ignored the way that his fingers and palm fit so perfectly with yours. You also tried to ignore how smooth and warm his hand was. And the fact that you had already felt his hand before. On your waist.

You still never quite got past that moment. Something about the memory put a butterfly-like feeling in your stomach.

“Set your feet wider apart.” You slightly pulled him away from the railing. He looked at you with an adorably nervous expression. You laughed. “When you step, try to lean on each side. So you can balance.”

He followed what you said and soon enough, the two of you were skating down the rink. Smoothly? Not really, with the way he constantly stumbled like a deer learning how to walk. But it was enjoyable, the way he would occasionally smile at you, his hand tightening on yours.

“Hyunjae, you’re a professional now,” You joked.

He scowled adorably. “You’re so funny. You enjoy my embarrassment.”

“Maybe I do,” You snorted. “You’re getting better though.” 

He looked at you earnestly. You could see the way the purple and blue lights, lit up every feature of his face, creating a view that could fit perfectly in a soft-colored painting. It seemed that the lighting also affected you as his thumb began to caress your hand. 

“You look pretty,” He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

You widened your eyes. “Hyunjae–”

“And you make me smile,” He confessed. “So thank you. For trusting me, even when others don’t. I promise I really don’t punch people on the usual.”

You laughed, your eyes crinkling. “Of course I’d trust you. You’re very charming, did you know that?”

He only scrunched his nose in response, but you could see that his ears have tinted red, even under the blue-ish lighting.

“Your ears are red,” You pointed out. 

“Haha.” He narrowed his eyes.

–

Now, the two of you were walking home together. Though you did insist that you could do so on your own, he refused to leave your side. He even gave you those stupid puppy eyes that you couldn’t reject.

“Did you have fun?” He peered at you, anxiousness flitting across his expression.

You smiled reassuringly. “Definitely.” And you don’t know why you did it, but you reached forward and took his hand in yours. His eyes went wide in an adorable way as he gazed down at your connected hands. You could even see him struggle to hold back a smile.

Then, he schooled his expression into a teasing one again. The one that you’ve grown to become used to.

“Hey, do you know what this means?”

“That we’re very good friends?” You gazed at him innocently. You held hands with your friends so that must be what it means. Right?

“That we’re— what?” He stared at you in utter disbelief.

“Good friends?��� You stared back. His firm grip on your hand loosened slightly at that. “Because we’re hanging out. Are we not?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought this was a da—“

But then your house came into view. You turned to him with bright eyes.

“We’re here,” You sighed. “Thank you, Hyunjae. For a wonderful hangout.”

“Hangout,” He choked out. He reluctantly let go of your hand as he still held into the tips of your fingers. “Yes, hangout. I had fun.” His smile was almost painful, forced.

You grinned, pulling away, the constant spark between your hands finally being broken. You gave him a small wave in which he did the same.

Lee Hyunjae who was a good friend. A friend who almost kissed you and held your hand the whole night. A great friend.

—

“Am I being friend-zoned?” He muttered to himself, kicking a can that lay astray on the sidewalk.

He mulled over all the possibilities. It was either you were just incredibly oblivious, or you didn’t like him back and were trying to let him off kindly. He sighed, pouting to himself.

His mind darted back to all things regarding you. He would never admit how much you made him blush just over the thought of your smile. And the way you filled him with warmth, he sometimes daydreamed of just pulling you into a hug. 

Suddenly, his cheeks began to hurt. Ah. He’s smiling to himself again like a lovesick fool.

“Fine,” He groaned, slapping himself. “I’ll just get over this stupid crush.”

Should be easy.

—

Being president of the student council had its sorrows. When you said that the party was the last event of the year, apparently you were wrong. The principal suddenly wanted you to set up a fundraiser in three days' time.

Not to mention that you had exams to study for and projects to keep you up late at night. You’re not only stressed but a little bit—no—very sleep deprived. 

With a pained sigh, you flopped your head on the desk, hitting your forehead with a thump that only worsened your headache. You felt someone poke your shoulder so you were forced to look up. 

“Could you please do my homework?” Your classmate pleaded. “I have a date tonight but I’m failing this class.”

Another poke on your shoulder. You turned.

“Can you send me the instructions for the literature project?”

And another except on your back. You turned around again.

“For the fundraiser event, how many tabl–”

Abruptly, you stood up from your desk, your chair creating a loud sound that made everyone else in the classroom jump. You pinched the crease behind your eyebrows.

“I have a headache,” You told all three students who were pleading with you to do their work for them. Two of them simply grumbled and turned away. But one, she was your favorite of all, looked at you with kind eyes.

“You should go to the nurse’s office.” 

With a deep breath, you nodded and headed out the door. Again, you were met with a choice–a fork in the road, per se. To your right, was the nurse who could treat your pounding headache. But to your left was the stairway to the rooftop of the school.

You turned left again.

Bursting through the doors, you took a long inhale as you enjoyed the fresh air. Luckily, the weather was bright and blue, perfect for clearing your head. Other than the drawings in your sketchbook, you had another secret. That was the rooftop.

You often came here whenever your brain was fuzzy with unnecessary thoughts. You liked to sit here alone, doodle on a blank page, and just be yourself. All alone.

Except you weren’t.

When you turned to your usual spot, a wall that was at a certain angle where you could see all the prettiest clouds, there was someone else sitting there.

“Hyunjae?” You peered at him. 

He looked up at you with slight surprise as he pulled off his earphones. He looked attractive like this. He was sitting against the grey wall, one leg extended. His hair was messy and tousled from the wind and he had that signature smile on. You couldn’t quite tell if it was teasing or genuine. But you liked it anyway.

“Y/n,” He breathed out and then he patted the spot next to him, inviting you to sit. As you did, you immediately felt comfort from the way his shoulder pressed against yours, his warmth taking away that chilling feeling that clouded your mind the past few hours.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, turning to him. You inhaled slightly when you realized just how close he was. You took the time to run your eyes over his soft features, your gaze lingering on his bottom lip for a second longer.

“I hate physics,” He deadpanned. “And you?”

“I’m just tired,” You laughed bitterly. He took note of your tone and he shuffled even closer to you so now your legs were touching.

The two of you fell in silence. You played with your fingers with nervousness. You didn’t even know what you were nervous about. Was it him? Was it the way that he continued to look at you with so much softness in his eyes?

“You know, Hyunjae,” You started, your voice low. “You’re not all too bad.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I thought that we’ve established that a long time ago.”

“But what you said earlier. While roller-skating.” You faced him with a soft tilt of your lips. He gazed back, a strange tenderness behind his expression. “You make me smile too.”

“Oh. That’s… good,” He replied breathlessly. “Did you come here just to tell me that?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “I really am tired. You call me dear president but I’m tired of being one. I came here to clear my mind.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Would you like me to leave?” He questioned.

And he didn’t even move but you were already grasping his wrist in your fingers.

“Stay,” You whispered. “I like being with you.”

His eyes widened at your words and you could even see, under the afternoon light, that his cheeks have tinted pink.

“I’m going to flunk physics class if I keep skipping,” He muttered but he still relaxed next to you. 

“I can teach you,” You offered. “When I’m not exhausted.”

“Mhm,” He hummed with amusement. “You do that. When you’re not exhausted.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you leaned your head on his shoulder. It was warm against your cheek and honestly made a great pillow. You could feel him stiffen for a second but he slowly leaned closer so that your neck wouldn’t hurt. Your fingers stayed on his wrist, holding it loosely as his hand laid out on your lap.

Quietly, he leaned his head against yours, encompassing you in warmth and… something else.

After a while, Hyunjae lifted his head to check up on you, only to find that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, your cheek smushed (adorably, in his opinion) into it. He was glad that you weren’t awake, or else you would notice how fast his heart was pounding. Then he glanced down to where his hand was still on your lap, your fingers wrapped around gently.

He gulped thickly as he turned away. He couldn’t move but he desperately wanted to. When he had said that he would get over you, it seemed almost impossible now with how strong his feelings had become.

“I really like you,” He whispered. And he hoped that he would one day tell you when you were properly awake.

–

As time passed, you grew closer to Hyunjae. From a student that you had only merely heard rumors about, to a friend in which you’ve started to notice the way his lips moved for some reason.

It also seemed that the principal had forgotten to schedule your last detention. Not that you minded, but it made it harder for you to see him. But of course, he took it as his responsibility to take you out to places whenever he could.

And the rooftop slowly became a two-person thing. Usually, you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder. He would always reassure you that he didn’t mind.

Lately, you’ve noticed that he had grown quiet. A lot more than usual. Of course, he teased you but you’ve also taken note of the way he often liked to just look at you. If you were talking, he would gaze at you with soft eyes. Or if you smiled, he would smile back, looking at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

It was the night before school. You had things to prepare but mostly, you laid in bed, bored. But you lifted your head when you heard the doorbell ring. Furrowing your eyebrows and glancing at the time, you realized that you had no deliveries or guests to expect.

Rushing to the door, you turned the knob. You widened your eyes.

Hyunjae. He was dressed in his usual school uniform. Except something was different. His collar was ironed, every button was properly done, and his tie was pulled up correctly. His hair though, was still tousled. It always has been. It reminded you much of a puppy.

In his hands was a bouquet of flowers. Held close to his chest, you could recognize pink roses. You once read in a book that it meant innocent love. He looked straight out of a romance comic book. Charming in his school uniform and lovely with the flowers that complimented his golden skin.

Your eyes traveled down and–

You choked.

There was a small girl on his side. His little sister. She was grinning up at you and you couldn’t help but notice the resemblance. They both had the same deer eyes and an adorable smile. The only difference was her height which only reached up to Hyunjae’s mid-thigh, as well as her chubby cheeks.

You turned to Hyunjae.

“What are you–”

“Babysitting duty,” He blurted out. “But I just need to tell you something. If you would listen.”

You gazed at him for a moment, taking in the sight. He shuffled on his feet and you could tell that he was incredibly nervous.

“Okay,” You replied in surprise. “What is it?”

“I…” He trailed off as if his mind had suddenly gone blank. But then his sister tugged on his hand. He crouched down so that she could whisper in his ear. You watched, completely endeared.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I want to tell you that I…” He trailed off again. His cheeks turned red. He looked down at her. “I forgot again.” 

His little sister groaned. He smiled sheepishly as he turned back to you.

“I like you.”

Your lungs felt like they were punctured as the pieces all clicked for you, just like they had when you found out his name back in that art room. The flowers in his hands which probably mean everything about romance and the fact that he fixed up his uniform for you; the soft looks whenever you would laugh; his constant flirting that you had imagined to just be his humor; it all meant something.

“You… what?” You uttered.

“I like you. I have for a while,” He said with his voice wavering. “And I was supposed to tell you this huge speech that we–” He glanced down at the small girl. “–prepared together. But I get nervous around you so I forgot.”

“Hyunjae…”

“And I don’t know if you return my feelings.” He frowned. “But I just wanted to tell you that I have this gigantic crush on you. She would know.” He gestured to her again. “She always points out how I’m always blushing.”

“Blushing?” You widened your eyes.

“Because I’m thinking of you,” Hyunjae whispered. 

“Oh,” You breathed. “But why me?”

“I love everything about you.” He gave you a soft smile. That same one that you seem to see every day now. “Your smile is pretty. You’re just very beautiful. Inside and out. All the time.”

You felt like your face was on fire and that you might just suffocate from how fast your heart was beating.

He sighed, noticing your silence. “You don’t have to return your feelings or say anything ye–”

“I like you too,” You squeaked.

His lips parted at that, the flowers falling to his side. “You do?”

“Yes, I think.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’m new to this, Hyunjae.”

He grinned, looking at you teasingly. “I can guide you, dear president.”

“Don’t call me that,” You groaned. 

“I can call you anything,” He muttered, stepping closer. You looked up at him, your eyes studying his soft expression. “Gorgeous.” He tucked a piece of hair around your ear. 

“Hyunjae,” You whispered.

“Or would you prefer breath-taking?” He teased. 

“Neither.” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“It seems that you like both, sweetheart.”

“Mister,” You warned. “There is a child present.”

He widened his eyes and he stepped away immediately as if he had just remembered. Hastily, he turned to his little sister who was staring up at the two of you innocently.

“If you speak of this to mom…” He narrowed his eyes. “She’s going to kill me, you know?”

The girl only giggled and made a zipping motion to her mouth.

You snorted at the sight.

“Hyunjae,” You spoke up again. “How long have you liked me?”

He smiled. “A long time. You’re awfully oblivious, Y/n. That time we went roller-skating was meant to be a date. And why do you brush off my flirting everytime?”

You stuttered, “I– I’m sorry. I thought–”

He laughed, gazing at you fondly. “As long as you know now.”

You hummed, leaning against the doorway. “I guess you have me now, handsome.” You looked at him slyly.

His eyes were adorably wide now. He straightened up. “Repeat that?”

“Handsome?”

“Yes, that,” He breathed out. 

“Handsome.”

He turned to face his little sister. “Hold this.” He placed the bouquet of flowers in her small hands. And then he immediately stepped forward and hooked a hand around your waist. He quickly pulled you in, causing you to stumble slightly and fall into his chest. Steadying you with a small smile, he brought you into a kiss without a warning. 

You gasped in surprise but you slowly relaxed into it. Your hands wandered to the back of his neck, causing him to hum with satisfaction. The kiss was soft and innocent with barely any movement and his lips were even softer than you imagined. You could sense that he was going to deepen it but you were interrupted by a small, “Gross!” 

The two of you pulled apart, only to see that his little sister had cutely stuck her tongue out. He scowled playfully before reaching down to pick her up in his arms, as she tightly held onto the flower bouquet in her small hands.

“This was your idea in the first place, dummy,” He grumbled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, causing her to laugh adorably. You smiled at the sight.

Lee Hyunjae wasn’t scary at all. In fact, he was just a huge softie who had fallen in love with you.

–

You could be going on dates with Hyunjae but instead, you were still serving detention with him. After your first kiss with him, it seemed that the day after, the principal suddenly remembered to schedule your detention time.

With a sigh, you swept the classroom. Classroom 1-B, specifically Hyunjae’s classroom. 

“I daydreamed a lot about you here.” He brushed past you with a small smirk.

Your cheeks flushed. “About… what?”

“A lot.” He walked past you again, this time letting his hands fall to your waist for a moment. You inhaled sharply at the sensation. “Your lips.” 

You gulped, turning to him. To no surprise, he was staring straight at your lips.

“I daydreamed about hugging you.” He suddenly appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you into a firm back hug. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he nuzzled his nose into your shoulder.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. “We’re supposed to be cleaning right now.”

He smiled, holding you tightly. His lips only hovered over that spot on your neck. The spot that he had almost kissed back in the library.

“But we’re alone. Just the two of us,” He muttered back. You swallowed thickly, willing yourself not to let your eyes wander down. The whole day, during classes, you kept thinking of them. What it would be like to kiss them again. 

Really, your only kiss with him was the one on your porch. The one that was interrupted by his little sister.

“We have responsibilities,” You shakily replied.

“But don’t you want to know about my last daydream?” He pulled away, his hand still placed on your hip.

You breathed deeply, knowing very well that your ears were red right now, which he loved to point out.

“What… is it?” You glanced at him nervously.

“I daydream about kissing you.” He leaned close from behind, letting his lips brush against the side of your cheek. And you had hoped. Really hoped that he would whip you around and pull you into a deep kiss. But much to your disappointment, he only walked by, off to pick up some crumpled test papers.

With a groan of frustration, you set your broom down.

“You can’t just say that and not–” You sighed, shutting your eyes with embarrassment. “Not kiss me.”

His eyes sparkled at that but he only spared you a glance.

“But apparently you think cleaning a classroom is more important,” He hummed. “I respect your opinion. So I guess you’ll just have to wait for my kiss.”

You glared at him for a moment. But he only tilted his head, his lips quirking up slightly. With an annoyed sigh, you picked the broom up and began to sweep the floor again. This time, a little bit faster and more aggressively.

Hyunjae only chuckled at your actions. 

And purposely, like the absolute lunatic he is, he would brush past you, letting his hands trail somewhere on his body. Every time, you would scrunch your eyebrows, trying to contain the sudden need to grab his collar and pull him into a harsh kiss.

“Focus.” 

“Shut up.” You glared.

“You can shut me up later.” His eyes again, traveled downwards.

Once you were sure that the floor was clean enough, you practically threw the broom off somewhere. Storming over to where he was waiting for you, leaning back against the teacher’s desk, you faced him.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” You said.

He smiled. “Should I?”

You frowned. “Because we’re finished so–”

“Can’t get enough of me?” He quirked his head. He stood up. Again, you were reminded of just how tall he was. “Can’t stop thinking of my lips?” He took a step forward. You took a step backward, blinking nervously.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

“You want to kiss me so bad, don’t you?” He teased, continuously backing you up. “That you rushed all of your cleaning just so you could press your lips to mine?” 

You gasped when you realized the back of your thighs hit a student’s desk. He only continued to step closer, forcing you to sit up on the desk. He watched you with a glint in his eyes. And then he stepped in between your legs, caging you between his arms and hovering over you with his hands resting on the desk on either side of you.

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your hands resting on his chest. 

“So should we do this properly?” He asked, his voice dropping to a low tone. His gaze followed your lips, making you hold your breath. “Since she’s not here.” 

Out of context, this would sound like a horrible love affair. But you only snorted since you knew that he was talking about his little sister.

“Are you saying that your sister is a bother?” You laughed.

“No.” He grinned. “But I can’t afford her to witness this.”

“Witness what?”

He smiled. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Enlighten me,” You whispered.

“Should I?” He chuckled softly, as he shuffled even closer so that your chest was against his. You could even feel his breath fan over your lips. He tilted his head with a lazy smile.

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. “Yes,” You whispered. “Or else I’ll take the lead.” 

“I would love to see that,” He teased.

And much to his surprise, you took hold of his collar, and you finally, finally, pulled him against your lips. He let out a muffled sound but he almost instantly melted against you.

Groaning with satisfaction, his hands came off the desk, instead choosing to take hold of your lower back and waist, his fingers digging into your skin. This kiss was much, much different from your first one. This one was filled with a flame that couldn’t be put out. As his lips moved against yours fervently, one hand traveled down to the side of your thigh where he pulled you closer. 

You hummed as you tangled your fingers in his soft hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. Easily, he obliged, kissing you so hard that you felt your hands go weak, going slack and resting on his chest. He never seemed to slow down either, only breaking away so that he could find his way under your jawline. 

“So this finally happens,” He muttered. And he leaned back in, kissing down until he found that spot–the one that he had only lingered on before in a rickety library. Now, he was pressing kisses to your skin as he meant it. You gasped at the feeling.

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, tugging at his collar as you tilted your head against the sensation. You could even feel him begin to smile against your neck.

“Perfume?” He whispered.

“None,” You gasped.

He pulled away, searching your eyes with so much softness you felt like you could just melt right then and there. “You smell good. Sweet like candy.”

“Shut up,” You grumbled, leaning forward so that you could hide your face in his chest. His hands came to the small of your back, pulling you into a hug. It was gentle and innocent, much different from the kiss.

And then his hand came under your chin, lifting you up so that he could press his lips to yours. This time, the two of you savored the moment, moving slowly. Both of your eyes were shut and your cheeks flushed.

“She’s only five years old,” He whispered against your lips, breaking apart reluctantly. You could tell that he was trying to catch his breath as his hands wandered across your waist. “This is PG-13.” He grinned.

You laughed. Or you tried to until he shut you up with another kiss.

“You look beautiful,” He said, his eyes gentle on yours.

“And you look like a mess.”

“And who’s fault is that?” He glanced down at his crumpled collar where you had grabbed it and initiated the kiss in the first place. You smiled up at his messy hair and his pink cheeks. Then your eyes met again.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Please.”

And he did so, pulling you closer by the waist. You were so focused on his lips that you hadn’t noticed the voices out in the hallway.

“We just need to get the flyers for–”

The door creaked open. The two of you broke apart. You looked down at the way he had you pressed up on a desk and you choked. It must be an odd sight, seeing the so-called quiet, intimidating student making out with the picture-perfect president of the student council.

And it was Younghoon and Sunwoo–members of said council. Their eyes were wide and their mouths had dropped open. Sunwoo had even let go of the book in his hand, causing a loud thump on the floor. Younghoon’s eyes trailed from both of your spit-slicked, swollen lips down to where you were all up against each other, Hyunjae’s hand still on your waist.

You stared back and Hyunjae only pulled away slightly with a smug smirk.

Sunwoo’s eye twitched. 

“What the fu–” 

[all-about-kyu]

Summary: Somehow, he managed to get ahold of the rants you drafted in your emails to him… now he’s determined to eat your words (read: fuck you stupid). Pairing: Hyunjae x fem!reader Tropes: academic rivals au Genre: smut Rating: R 18+ Warnings: language, yn described as shorter than him Smut Warnings: arguing as foreplay, dirty talk, rough sex, wall sex, unprotected sex, degradation, god kink (not really, but Hyunjae is being cocky) Word Count: 1,572 Note: Thank you to @anyamaris for beta reading this! Host Tags: @sanjoongie @thelargefrye February Filth Masterlist Before You Interact

Listen to ♡ Criminal by Taemin

“Fuck you,” you grit.

“Ask nicely, and maybe I will.” Hyunjae smirks at you.

“That’s not what I–” You cut yourself off with an exasperated sigh.

Hyunjae keeps that irritatingly hot smirk on his face. Yet again, he somehow scored barely higher than you on this exam. It shouldn’t matter anymore. You’re literally in university. The only reason grades should truly matter against another student’s grade is if you’re fighting for that Valedictorian place. In your case, you’ve been back and forth with Hyunjae for that position for the entirety of your educational life. No matter what you do, you always end up just slightly below him academically. It doesn’t help that he’s fucking gorgeous, either. Each time you see him, he enrages you, but some small piece of yourself also admires his appearance (even though you hate that you do it). 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” He chuckles, walking backward toward the door.

“So you finally admit you think I’m cute.” You try to bite back.

He just scoffs and jerks his chin at you before backing out of the room. Knowing you got the last word of that exchange, a bit of pride swells in your chest. For some reason, your mind chooses to fixate on the fact that he called you cute. You hate him in every sense of the word, but still, your mind fixates there rather than the fact that you want to punch that annoyingly hot smirk off his face. 

There’s only one way that you can get all of your frustration regarding Hyunjae out of your system. Some of your friends call you an absolute dork for doing this, but it’s cathartic for you. The moment you get home, you pull up to your desk and pull up your email. This is what you do. You rant, chew him out in an email draft, and never send them. You can say whatever you want without repercussions for your actions. After all, you’re the only one seeing it.

You angrily type out an email; you’re not entirely processing what you’re typing. You press a few buttons to save it away in your drafts with the other ranting emails. With a huff, you push away from your desk and tidy your apartment. You and your roommates divided the chores by day, and it just so happened to be your day. You’re feeling a lot lighter about everything that happened earlier, dancing around the living room as you clean. Then a knock sounds on your front door. Clearly, it’s not one of your roommates, given that they’re knocking and not just walking in. 

Your eyebrows furrow together as you shuffle your way over to the door. You’re not expecting any guests; any deliveries you get go to the mail room, not your front door. You open the door and are met with the last person you want to see. Hyunjae is right outside your door waiting while tapping away on his phone.

“Why the fuck are you at my door?” You bite.

“Did you mean those things?”

Your stomach drops through your ass, “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Are you serious?” Hyunjae scoffs, “You sent me a two-page email.”

Oh fuck.

In your anger, you must’ve accidentally sent the email rather than drafted it. While you don’t remember much of the rant you accidentally sent, you do remember mentioning some rather… impulsive thoughts you had. There was definitely something about wanting to get fucking him out of your system rather than letting these unwanted feelings stew inside you. You step aside and gesture for him to step inside. Usually, you would want anything else but for him to enter your space. If you were in his position, you’d want an explanation.

“Just tell me, did you mean what you wrote in that email?” He asks cautiously.

You just stare at him for a few moments, “Well…”

“Well, what?” He interrupts.

“Let me speak, damn it! You’re so fucking annoying–”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow, “Annoying enough that you want to ‘kiss that smirk off my face,’ hmm?”

You feel your face grow hot at his comment. He steps closer to you, just barely invading your space. He raises a hand to your chin and tilts it so you’re looking right at him. You don’t have it in you to stop him anymore. His eyes search yours in a calculated way. He’s checking to ensure you’re not uncomfortable and trying to find the fastest way to break you.

“Answer me.” He threatens lowly.

“I– I want–”

“Hmm? What is it? Maybe this is why I’m always beating you; you can’t articulate yourself.” He taunts.

“Want you to fuck me.” You finally admit.

Hyunjae drops his hand to your wrist, holding it, and tugs you against his body. He has your arm pinned behind your back. Before you can think or react, his lips are pressed against yours in a harsh, heated kiss. You feel your knees buckle at the intensity. Had he not been holding your waist, you would’ve been on the floor.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, voice husky with need.

Your face is hardly separated from his as you respond, “This way.”

He lets you move your hand from behind you and lead him to your room. You hardly get the door shut before he has you pinned to your wall. Hyunjae lifts you by your waist and puts his arms under your knees. He grinds against you. You thank whatever intuition told you to wear loose, tiny lounge shorts and a cropped tank top to clean. The feeling of him grinding against you with just the barrier of your thin shorts and his pants is already enough to make you desperate. 

“Y-you could’ve just fucked me in the living room.” You say, trying to sound irritated with him.

Hyunjae chuckles at your comment, “You’d fucking like that, wouldn’t you? Let someone come home to see you being used like a common whore in your own home?”

He reaches for his pants and finally releases himself. He hooks his finger on the seat of your shorts a moment later and tugs them to the side. If you thought the feeling of him grinding against you a few moments ago was going to send you spiraling, feeling his bare cock against your soaked folds is even more drool-worthy. He pushes into you in one movement, making you let out a broken, breathy moan.

“Damn, you needed this, didn’t you? All that arguing gets you hot and bothered, huh? I bet you fuck yourself on your fingers after we argue every time. If that damn book you sent me testifies for anything, you’ve been fucking desperate for me for a while now.”

“J-Jae!” You moan, throwing your head back against the wall.

He fucks you so hard you can’t form any intelligent thought. He keeps spewing filthy statements at you. Your brain simply doesn’t comprehend anything he says. All you know is that you’re fucking loving it. You feel that familiar heat grows strong in your lower belly. You clench around him, which only drives him to fuck you harder.

“Hyunjae– I- fuck! Jae– cum– gonna–!” 

You know you don’t make any sense, but you’re sure that was also his goal.

“You wanna cum? How cute.” He teases, “You cum when I tell you to.”

“Please, please, please! Jae, please!”

Hyunjae marks up your neck with bites and hickeys, completely ignoring your pleas. His thrusts are aggressive and fast. Each time he pushes back into you, your ass bounces off the wall. Surely, there’s going to be a bruise on your tailbone later, but you can’t find it in you to care. You cling to him, hoping he’ll let you cum soon. Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving small crescent shapes there. 

“Cum.” He practically growls.

That’s all the permission you need. You let your orgasm burn through you. It feels like you may have ascended or seen God.

“Oh my god! Fuck, oh god!”

“That right, I’m your god.”

His cocky comments typically make your body fill with rage. Now, though, it only makes you want him more. His thrusts grow faster still, and he pulls out and cums against your belly. A few little spurts land on your shirt, but you couldn’t care less. You’re completely sated, and all you can think about is how badly you want more of him. Hyunjae carefully places you on your bed, tucking himself back in his pants before wiping his cum off your belly.

“You okay?” He asks, genuinely concerned.

“Y-yeah… not that it should really matter to you.” You pout without realizing it.

He sits beside your lounging form, “I just fucked you really rough. I would need to be a real asshole to leave you alone after.”

“We hate each other.”

Hyunjae lifts your lower legs and places them in his lap. He gently massages your leg. The gesture is sweet, almost as if he really did want to take care of you. His gaze is gentle, borderline sweet. You shift under his gaze, unsure what to make of it.

“Sweetheart, let’s be honest.” He starts, “The line between love and hate is so fine, especially for us. It’s almost nonexistent.”

“Hyunjae?” You question, unsure how to react still.

He squeezes your calf before speaking again, “We don’t hate each other, do we?”

“Maybe we don’t.”

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