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cloverdaisies · 10 months ago

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HOW TO SURVIVE SENIOR YEAR ☆

ERIC SOHN x reader 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : a chaotic how to guide on surviving high school with an 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 crush on the skater boy with the locker next to urs.

˗ˏˋ genre: ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭: pretty much chaos & fluff !

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ word count: ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆: 5.4k+

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚ dt : ɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆: for bar! @sohnric sorry it’s so late ! ! yk, e v e r y t h i n g that’s been going on & i’m sure you don’t mind! merry late c h r i s t m a s i <3 u very much, i tried to incorporate everything for you… i think these prompts definitely reached the right person!! ৎ୭… so for my bar ! ! …..

# FRIDAY 21ST SEPTEMBER 1996

# MORNING! 🌥️

The unbearable series of screeching from the school bell, cued the sound of wheels scraping against the pavement outside. A pair of blue cargo jeans complimenting a classic pair of red jordan’s glued themselves to a skateboard as it began flipping and jumping curbs. The wire of a walkman dangling, the flimsy headphones leaking sounds of a noisy guitar through the hallway of the school.

“Eric Sohn. No skating in the corridor and you’re late to class.” A nerdy-looking hallway monitor approached the skateboard wielding boy, holding out some form of citation for Eric to sign with a wavering hand.

“I’m not signing that.” He laughed, snatching the sheet making sure to crumple it into a tight ball before throwing it behind him. “You didn’t see me. Thank me later.”

The hall monitor, whose name tag read ‘Younghoon’ looked down with eyeballs bulging from his skull at the cigarette in his palm, tears pricking his waterline. Eric continued to skate the corridors to his homeroom, biting into an apple with that jaw of his that had to have been sharpened by the gods-

at least…. that’s what you saw….

Eric was a childhood crush of yours, considering you two lived on the same street growing up and you still vividly remember the heart eyes that pumped from your skull when you watched him play basketball on his driveway from your windowsill every night after school. Everything he did was enchanting, he made the simplest things look hot and his charm was next level too.

As for what Kevin sat next to you was seeing: just some dude burping and blowing it into his friends face afterwards.

In your sick love fantasy, you still thought he was the funniest most angelic man to first stick his feet in the soil of the earth.

“If you wanna survive senior year, you need to stop staring at him like that. it’s gross and it’ll leave you the minute it gets heart eyes for anything else. How many times can we have this conversation?” Kevin laughed and scribbled down, ‘1. NO F**K BOYS (especially Eric Sohn)’ in bright red ink at the top of your page.

“So!” Your homeroom teacher waltzed into the room with a wide grin glowing from cheek to cheek. “The class of 96’ how do you feel?! Your time at this school is almost over! Some of us are setting good examples, sat in our actual chairs and not the table Mr. Sohn?”

You giggled as Eric turned with a sigh, crossing his arms and sinking into his seat, secretly you hoped he would catch eyes with you just for a second and share a smile. However, the boy just put his headphones back on and slammed his head on the wooden desk as if he were to fall asleep.

You looked down at the diary where,

“ 1. NO F**K BOYS ”

had been written so passionately by Kevin and thought, if you’re gonna make senior rules, you should at least make the best high school ‘how to’ guide the world has ever seen.

——

The entire school day, word had gotten about ‘Kyu’s first party of the semester’ renowned for his crazy mansion of a house, and parents that were home a concerningly small amount of the time. Happening tonight, you hadn’t even thought about what you were gonna wear yet, or the fact that Kyu himself was Eric’s bestfriend.

Eric had a rather large friend circle of boys in your year, from Juyeon who was into sports to Jacob who was a bit of a music nerd and closer to Kevin if anything. Despite this, neither you or Kevin had received an invite to Kyu’s house for later that day.

# LUNCHTIME ! 🍛

Filling your metal tray and sitting next to Kevin on the end of one of the empty lunch hall tables, before you you could even begin biting in the panini you’d paid for, it was snatched out of your hand by...

“Sunwoo, that was my sandwich.” You groaned, looking at your empty plate and then back at him with a glare. “Do you not have your own food?”

“This looked nicer than my food, just have it back.” He shrugged dumping the half eaten sandwich back on your plate.

“Oh no it’s all yours.” You smiled sarcastically watching as he smiled and took the sandwich back in one animalistic gulp.

“So sorry about that y/n. Isn’t he just awful? I got you a new one.” Hyunjae, as if the entire scene was staged, sits beside you with his hand smoothly rested on his cheek. He pushed a new sandwich in front of you with a carton of orange juice sat at the top of the tray.

You rolled your eyes before you almost tripped over your comically untied laces (how did both of them end up that way?) You flew backwards only to be caught by Hyunjae, once again returning to his cringey script.

“Falling for me, I see?” He smirked lifting you back to your feet as you sat down to retie your laces that had been undone by someone at some point in time.

“Is this just going to happen every lunchtime?” You cocked an eyebrow with a huff, tying bunny ears in your converse and briefly looking back up to the boy.

“Of course, however each time it just gets more creative.” He smiled confidently, you were unaware that these were romantic gestures since Hyunjae made it seem like one big joke with his extravagant concepts.

“Please make it stop.” You rolled your eyes and tucked into the new sandwich, Kevin laughing to himself. You began to zone out as you noticed Eric from across the canteen, sat on the table skateboard propped up and talking to his friends. He looked at you momentarily with a smile before you were interrupted by Hyunjae waving his hand in front of your face.

“Are you guys coming to kyu’s?” Hyunjae asked, biting into his own.

“No. We’re not cool enough.” Kevin began to fake cry, wiping invisible tears and squealing in a high pitched whine.

“He said anyone can come, of course you guys are invited. When has he ever asked anyone?” Sunwoo added punching Kevin the back lightly and taking a seat at the table. “Just show up.”

As lunch ended, you found yourself digging through your locker for the biology notes you’d written the other day. However as you dug through your shelf you just couldn’t find them.

“What you looking for?” A deep voice alarmed you, looking up to see Eric Sohn throwing his jacket in the locker that belonged to him next to yours.

“Oh. Uhm.” You stuttered for a moment, wondering if your eyes and ears were telling you the truth. “Just some notes for biology, we have a test coming up.”

“Oh yeah, you can borrow mine for now. Just slot them back in my locker on Monday.” Eric passed you a few pieces of A4 with neatly printed notes, the cigarette resting on his lips bobbing as he spoke.

“Thanks, that’s uh, really kind of you.” You smiled as he shook his head nonchalantly.

“It’s nothing, don’t stress.” He added before breezing past you to the exit of the school with a confident stride in his steps, his skateboard under his arms.

# EVENING 🌌 :📍Y/N’s HOUSE

“Okay so what are you wearing?” Kevin asked turning around in his sequin shirt and jeans, complimenting his outfit with a crossbody bag and sunglasses.

“Uhm. Not sure yet. Might go for baggy jeans and a sequin top too.. I have a lot.” You showed Kevin the options, watching as he scratched his chin and looked between them.

જ⁀➴ৎ୭ OUTFIT OPTIONS:

(feel free to mix & m a t c h!)

“Gorgeous!” Kevin smiled, fixing you a few necklaces of his behind your neck. You smiled and looked in the mirror briefly before setting off down the block.

The house pulsated the entire street as guests spilled in the front door to the infectious rhythm playing at max volume from the many speakers around the house. A kaleidoscope of vibrant lights drowned the space, as drinks circulated everyone from the kitchen.

House parties tended to be like some sort of cringe trashy and incomprehensible version of a homecoming dance for adults that you couldn’t seem to understand. Sure they were fun but, high school students embarrassing themselves sure wasn’t.

“Hey Kevin.” A very drunk Ji Changmin sauntered over to us at the entrance, “Who’s the plus one?”

As Changmin looked over with his devilish glare, apart of you started to get nervous. As if you were mixing with the wrong crowd, a gentle flip in your stomach warned you, something was about to go incredibly wrong.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You introduced yourself with a smile, as he passed you a beer from the many in his arms.

There was one thing that would determine whether someone would survive senior year: alcohol.

“2. PARTIES = STATUS”

Probably one of the most screwed survival tips, but unfortunately for teenagers who were just short of legal age a sip of liquor was enough to emphasise them as ‘cool’. Even if drinking is not your thing, the general consensus of being popular in senior year was to attend parties, host them and make lethal mistakes whilst there.

Throughout the night, you and Kevin found yourselves bouncing from group to group eventually watching Sangyeon and Juyeon play the most intense game of cup pong ever played in the competitive sports world.

♫ ANOTHER NIGHT - REAL MCCOY playing from speakers ♫

“Do you wanna take this one?” Sangyeon asked, holding the ping pong ball in front of you with a raised eyebrow.

“Me?” You asked laughing from the sidelines as he nodded, standing up properly you walked towards the table where most eyes were fixed on the table.

You’d gotten the grips of how to play, grasping the ball with a nervous clench before watching as Juyeon stared down the table with a sly smirk, his arms folded over his white tank top.

Bouncing off the table the ball hit the top of the few cups cups before landing in the fourth, making Juyeon’s total three. The crowd watching laughed as Juyeon threw his head back in defeat, taking the cup and gulping down its contents.

“Taking advantage of beginners luck is dirty play.” Juyeon shook his head at Sangyeon who laughed knowingly. “Whatever. If I land this you’re drinking this.”

Sure enough, as Juyeon bounced the ball across the table it landed in one of the two cups left leaving one. You’d hoped he’d missed not wanting to get to drunk around a group of people you’d never met. Nevertheless you took the cup and necked it’s contents, with a cheering crowd. Juyeon eventually won against Sangyeon, seeing the close of world’s most competitive game of cup pong.

A few drinks through the night, your brain chemistry had already began buzzing and the socialite in you stepped out of hiding, as you spoke to almost everyone you encountered. Hearing commotion from the living room, you dragged Kevin to investigate.

The room buzzed with anticipation as people gathered in a circle, forming a tight-knit group. Nervous giggles filled the air, drowned out by the music playing in the background. Sunwoo placed a bottle in the center of the circle, ready to determine the first pair of an early game of ‘spin the bottle’.

With a flick of his wrist, the bottle spun, its rotation echoing the excitement in the room. Hearts raced as it slowed down, pointing towards its chosen target. The room held its breath as the Sunwoo locked eyes with a girl he’d had a crush on for most of his childhood, their cheeks flushing bright pink as he made eye contact. With a playful smile, Sunwoo picked out one of the ‘fates’ written in the hat, revealing the crumpled paper to the crowd.

“Kiss.” He laughed nervously, smiling as she was, the circle squealed in anticipation. He leaned in to give her peck which raised a “booo” from the crowd at the underwhelming gesture.

“Y/N JOIN IN.” Hyunjae yelled from the group, causing the circle to laugh at how pathetic he was. You jokingly stepped behind Kevin to hide as “Join” began to be chanted in the room, persuading you to sit down in a gap made by Hyunjae and Haknyeon.

You took the bottle and spun it, the booze causing nerves to disappear. As the bottle began to slow down, Hyunjae grabbed the glass pointing it towards him - no one protesting considering this was his life long goal.

You sighed, hoping the paper in the hat wouldn’t do you dirty in this situation, looking up you noticed a familiar figure. Eric’s eyes stared down at you, stood from the other side of the circle, rested against the mantlepiece in his tank top and baggy jeans - a bottle of beer gripped loosely in his hands.

All of a sudden, your hands began to shake in adrenaline, Hyunjae’s eyes wavering as he noticed the way you looked up at the other boy. You began to unfold one of the pieces of paper from the hat, “7 minutes in heaven” you could have screamed. This was truly a worst case scenario, as the circle cheered and Sunwoo ushered the two of you to the bathroom.

Hyunjae locked the door with a sigh, sitting both legs in the bathtub and taking a lengthy swig of his beer in a saddened manner.

“Are you not going to do anything?” You asked curiously, folding your arms and taking a seat on the toilet cover.

“No.”He sighed, resting the bottle on the side and turning to look at you with an inquisitive stare, his eyebrows furrowing as if they contemplating internal questions.

“Why not?” You asked further, leaning forward as Hyunjae’s confident demeanour seemed to have suspiciously faltered.

“I see the way you look at him.” He suddenly spat, as if something within him snapped. “You’ll never give it up will you. Everyday, I do something to make you laugh, smile and show you someone cares. Yet… Every time I try, you’re still staring at that motherfucker who wants nothing to do with you.”

“Sorry?” You asked almost confused, the outburst seemingly unnecessary as he went to speak again but was interrupted by an ominous banging at the door.

“I get you guys are probably exchanging cooties in there, but I need to shit.” The sweet sound of Haknyeon’s charming voice and vocabulary echoed through the bathroom causing you to hold back a laugh in the situation.

“Listen y/n. I need to ask a favor.” Hyunjae proposed, stopping you from reaching for the handle of the door. “My parents have been bugging me about having a girlfriend, since my brother has one now and they’re telling me I’m a good for nothing man who will never be able to commit to someone. Which is kind of true. But will you pretend to be my girlfriend to get them off my back?”

“Will I? Hmmm….” You pretend to think for a second before retorting with a loud. “NO.”

“Please. I’ll help you get him, I’ll do everything I can to help you win Eric over. I’m one of his bestfriends.” Hyunjae’s eyes glistened in genuine sparkle, an expression you’d only come across once or twice in your life.

“I’ll think about it. But for now, it’s not a yes or a no.” You closed the conversation, head spinning as you opened the door, Haknyeon spilling into the bathroom and beelining straight for the toilet.

“3. DONT PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE’s GIRLFRIEND WHILST YOUR TRYING TO GET THE ATTENTION OF THE LOVE OF YOUR LIFE.”

Oddly specific rule, however as you proceeded down the stairs it seemed you wouldn’t have to convince people you were dating - their dirty minds had already assumed what had happened in that bathroom.

“You’re on.” You looked back at Hyunjae with a smile before linking arms with Kevin to leave, the party only dying down in the early hours of the morning.

# SATURDAY 22ND SEPTEMBER 1996

# MORNING 🌥️

The gentle rays of sunlight peeked through the curtains, birds began chirping outside, and the comforting aroma of breakfast drifted from the kitchen. Your eyes stuck together and your head booming with music from the night before, on the floor Kevin was sprawled emitting gentle snores.

The sound of a car horn outside, immediately brought you to your senses, with your fingers your gently moved the curtain to see Hyunjae leant against his car.

“Your dating Hyunjae?” Kevin asked, giving you the fright of your life as he appeared over your shoulder.

“No.” You immediately refuted, getting shivers from the sickly idea of having to date such a inferior choice of male.

“So why’s he here?” Kevin asked with a sarcastic voice, laughing at the stupidity of the scene.

“We’re dating but like just so his family gets off his back.” You sighed, standing up out of bed and beginning to make yourself look more presentable.

“You’re FAKE dating, Hyunjae?” Kevin’s jaw dropped even more than it already was if that was even possible. “That isn’t gonna look good to lover boy now is it?”

“Listen, he’s helping me get him. He’s on the inner circle, if I have a chance of getting Eric this is it.” You sighed taking your clothes to change in your arms.

“I’m calling Jacob.” Kevin suddenly added, pulling out his nokia with its antenna.

“Don’t you dare he said don’t call unless it’s emergencies, he’s in exam mode.” You recalled, knowing Jacob is practically unreachable during exam season.

“This is an emergency.” Kevin emphasised each word with a sarcastic edge.

“It’s not and if you call him, I’ll make your life so difficult.” You pointed at the boy with a warning finger before walking out to meet Hyunjae in front of his car.

♫ ALL THE SMALL THINGS - BLINK 182 playing from the car radio ♫

“Hey.” You smiled, climbing into the passenger seat of his car, the soft top rolled down so the breeze would eventually leave you wind swept. “Where we heading?”

“Bowling with my parents.” Hyunjae grumbled, more than happy you were in his car but visibly stressed with the entire situation.

“Is this all I have to do and I’m not your girlfriend anymore?” You suggested, leaning your head on the side of the car and letting the wind catch your face.

“Should be. Then I’ll tell you all about him.” Hyunjae chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel and another raking through his hair.

The bowling alley downtown was lively, decorated with neon lights and the sound of crashing pins. The smell of hot dogs and nachos wavering faintly in the air. The lanes are filled with laughter and ‘friendly’ competition.

Hyunjae swiftly introduced you to his mother and father, who looked you up and down before sending him an impressed smile.

“I’ll have to warn you dear y/n, they both get a bit competitive.” Hyunjae’s mother smiled as Hyunjae age his dad began squaring up to each other in the lane.

Whilst you were putting on your shoes, you felt a pair of eyes on you from somewhere unable to tell where.

“Hey y/n!” A familiar cheerful voice greeted you, looking up shell shocked you saw Eric, dressed in his work uniform with a lollipop. You felt your heart shatter, Hyunjae had to know he worked here, he set you up, but why?

Eric looked gorgeous in uniform you had to say, his pinstriped shirt and jeans complimented by the blue cap. However, you had bigger issues.

“You on a date with Hyunjae?” He asked, polishing a pair of shoes behind the counter next to you, happening to notice how pretty his hands were. “You look pretty, he’s a lucky guy.”

What did he say?

“Oh Eric! You met my girlfriend! This is y/n!” Hyunjae wrapped an arm around you with a condescending smile, for you everything felt as if it had frozen in time.

Eric swivelled the lollipop in his mouth for a moment, observing the look of shock you’d tried to conceal with a smile on your face and chuckled to himself.

“Landed a nice one there haven’t you buddy?” Eric almost began to patronise his bestfriend, a look of suspicious nature hidden in his big smile like a cheshire cat.

“I’m just going to go to the bathroom.” You giggled before excusing yourself to the toilets across the arena with a nervous pace.

“Well that backfired.” A voice sounded, someone pulling you back from one of the booths in the canteen. Kevin and Jacob sat like spies with sunglasses tuxedos and newspapers had been watching the entire time.

“He set me up.” You sighed putting your hands in your head. “I know he’s jealous of him but i didn’t think he’d go this far.”

“It’s Hyunjae. This is probably hilarious content to him.” Kevin rolled his eyes as Jacob nodded along, them both peering around the corner to watch the scene unfold.

“Y/n have you ever considered that Eric might like you?” Jacob asked taking his sunglasses off to look at you properly before you answered.

“He definitely doesn’t like me like that, maybe as a friend?” You suggested, twiddling your thumbs together over the wooden surface.

“Well he doesn’t seem to like the entire you and Hyunjae thing.” He added looking back over to the icy conversation between the two boys at the check in desk - Hyunjae’s parents stepping in to tell him they were ready to play.

“How can you tell?” You furrowed your brows in confusion, waiting for the reply as he began to speak.

“Duck! He’s coming.” Kevin quickly hid you under table covering you with his jacket as they both got back to their newspapers.

“Kevin?” The sound of Hyunjae’s voice from above the surface startled. “You seen y/n anywhere?”

“No? I saw her come in with you.” Kevin cleverly redirected the question allowing the boy to shrug and walk in a different direction looking for you.

“I told you these disguises wouldn’t work, we needed the moustaches.” Kevin hissed across the table to Jacob, the both of them having watched a few too many over the summer.

“Listen what do I do? Because I can’t tell Eric I’m fake dating Hyunjae because then he’d find out I was doing it because I have a stupid little thing for him!” You exclaimed, frustrated as you’d fell right in to Hyunjae’s trap.

“4. DON’T FALL FOR YOUR CRUSH’S BESTFRIENDS BLACKMAIL”

“I wouldn’t call it little. But hope things work out for you!” Jacob smiled angelically ignoring the pain shimmering in your eyes.

“Me too!” They began to gather their things ave scramble, about to take flight from the situation.

“Where are you guys going?” You asked panicked they were about to ditch you and leave the sticky situation.

“Getting you out of here.” Kevin replied taking your arm and sprinting out of the nearest exit - they may have set an alarm off for opening a fire door but oh well.

“5. DO HAVE FRIENDS THAT WILL GET YOU OUT OF SITUATIONS YOU CAUSED YOURSELF”

# MONDAY 24TH SEPTEMBER 1996

After hibernating in your bed for the rest of the weekend and 13 times Kevin had tried to ring the landline to check if you were okay. It was time to face them all at school and you could not think of anything worse.

“Oh my god. It’s aliveeee.” Kevin acts out a poor excuse of a Frankenstein impression as you laughed and breezed past him to your locker.

“If you see Hyunjae hide me.” You chuckled as he signed ‘rodger that’ with a salute and began rambling about the pasta he cooked for dinner the night before.

All of a sudden you were pushed into the locker, Kevin stood in front on you casually reading a book as Hyunjae walked by with a question mark above his head. He didn’t bother asking where you were, assuming if you weren’t with Kevin you weren’t there at all.

You eventually broke free of the hiding spot, fixing your hair and brushing down your clothes. The sound of wheels rolling down the corridor coming to a halt beside you.

“Were you?-” Eric was about to ask but refrained considering Kevin was signing ‘cut’ and ‘shush’ behind you flailing his arms around like a maniac.

“Here’s your notes.” You smiled, a touch of pink rising to your cheeks as your hand grazed his defined one, the notes you’d borrowed in pristine condition.

“Thanks, cutie.” He smiled, the nickname causing you to freeze up in your tracks, you knew he only said it out of courtesy or like the others that was ‘just his personality’ but it made your heart melt - as you watched him skate down the corridor, his biceps flexing to maintain balance.

You managed to survive your classes without being berated by Hyunjae or any of his friends, having to sadly eat lunch in a cubicle surely wasn’t a high moment of yours.

Soon the bell was sounding for the end of the day as students flocked out of the grounds excited for the school’s baseball match that evening.

“There she is!” You heard an annoyingly shrill voice yell from behind you, as you were about to cross the car lot. Behind you was Eric Hyunjae and Juyeon, walking in a line towards you whilst Eric was on his skateboard.

“Told you I saw her.” Eric laughed as you were clearly avoiding Hyunjae at all costs, you turned with a bitter smile as they got closer.

“You coming to Eric’s big game tonight?” Juyeon asked giving a friendly elbow to Eric, clearly nervous as it was the first big game of the season.

Eric looked at you with an ounce of hope, only to be quickly shot down, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes sparkled at the idea.

“No she’s actually got a date with me.” Hyunjae answered for you with a snide tone, eyes flickering towards you.

“No,no. I think I’ll go.” You smiled, “I really like baseball.”

“I don’t wanna interrupt you guys.” Eric looked between you both with something suspicious lingering behind his eyes as he turned his baseball cap to the left.

“You’re not interrupting us! Perhaps this ‘date’ can be on the pitch.” You suggested looking at Hyunjae’s wide eyes, knowing his plan was falling to pieces but he couldn’t disagree, not in front of everyone.

“Cool.” Eric smiled smugly, “See you there.”

You watched as him and Juyeon walked to the pitch for pre-match practice. Not wanting to spare Hyunjae anymore time, you walked at lightning speed in the direction of your house, ignoring him yelling your name from behind you.

“Y/n give me a second.” Hyunjae caught up to you on the sidewalk, grabbing your arm to turn you around. “You don’t have to do this anymore, go get him. It’s clear you’ll always love him and I can’t change that. I’m sorry, I took it too far.”

Despite the fact you appreciated the apology it seemed as if it was a little to late, he’d already tried to bring everything crashing down between you and Eric and now he thinks the both of you are on a date at his game. You smiled at him and nodded, swiftly turning on your heels and rushing home.

# LET’S GO H A W K S, LET’S G O O O !!🏟️

The chanting of cheerleaders and commotion amongst the crowd sang from outside of the pitch, Kevin and Jacob having already bought snacks rushed to a bench with good sight of the pitch.

“I’m so excited for this, there’s literally no way we lose.” Kevin watched as your school team walked out on to the pitch, immediately spotting Eric and making smoochy faces at you.

You didn’t notice too much of Kevin’s torment, as you were captivated by the sight of him. Eric looked up at the bleachers as if he was scanning the crowd for someone in particular his eyes landed on you for a moment - or Kevin maybe even Jacob.

The game commenced, no home-runs were scored by the competition and our team was not looking to beat them either. Time was running out as the ball left the hand of the pitcher, Eric stood in formation waiting for the ball to reach him. He swung the bat behind him and hit the ball with astonishing force triggering a roar from the crowd. He made a run for it, it was a home-run, the winning home-run.

“Go get him girl.” Kevin said as the players began to leave the pitch, watching as you ran off immediately to find him.

You patiently waited outside the locker rooms for him, knowing the other players would be tossing him around and winding him up. He eventually emerged from the lockers, wet hair and a towel around his neck.

“Can I talk to you?” You asked as he caught eyes with you, confused to why you’d waited.

“Sure, where’s Jae?” He asked, following you as you began to walk to somewhere more private.

“I’ll explain all of that.” You sighed, looking back at the boy for a moment, feeling your heartbeat pause in time as the sunlight hit his skin.

You both made your way under the bleachers, Eric already making a joke about what happens underneath them before even getting there.

“Eric. I have to say this otherwise one day I’m going to implode.” You began, your heart facing the adrenaline kicking through your veins and it was as if a theme park was screaming in your stomach. “I like you.”

A silence sat amongst you, the conflict in his eyes bouncing back and forth making you increasingly apprehensive for what he was about to say.

“Y/n I can’t do this to Hyunjae. Listen I really like you but that’s my-” Eric tried to collect himself, holding on to the top of the bleachers with one arm and wiping his forehead with the other.

“Eric we’re not dating! I know you can see that.” You pleaded with him, watching as his gorgeous eyes twisted to confusion.

“You’re not?” He asked, more than confused.

“No…. I agreed to ‘fake’ date him to get his parents off his back and to get to know more about you. But.. he took it too far and I think he might’ve been jealous I liked you.” You admitted, chewing your bottom lip and looking anywhere but at the boy fresh off the pitch in his baseball uniform.

“I don’t know because what if you’re lying to me.” He suggested, you couldn’t get offended because what if you were?

“Eric you’ve known me since we were kids I wouldn’t lie to you, I wouldn’t get anything out of doing that.” You reassured him, watching him contemplate ideas in his head as if mini cogs were turning.

“Y/n I know I don’t show it, but I really was interested in you but Hyunjae I couldn’t hurt him. Do you mind if I?” He asked, pulling you closer to him with his back leant up against the metal beam behind him.

“Of course I don’t.” You smiled, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched that beautiful grin of his spread across his lips, his brown eyes sparkling down with the sunset peaking through the gaps of the rows.

He kissed you, so sweetly, so gently, holding your face with the palm of his hand and bringing your waist closer as your stomach flipped and your heart filled with love. As you parted he brought you into his arms, it was the warmest hug that just felt as if everything was right.

“Now that you’ve said it, it makes sense. I’ve never seen someone avoid their boyfriend so much until now.” He laughed thinking of the time you escaped the bowling alley with Kevin and Jacob and further went to extreme lengths to avoid him at school too.

You giggled in his arms, looking up to his face that smiled back down at you, gently moving in for another kiss.

“I think I won twice today.” Eric laughed, giddy with excitement the grin on his face practically beaming from ear to ear.

That’s how you sort of survived senior year.

tagging: @juyeonszn @deobienthusiast 🤍

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itsbeeble · 1 year ago

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BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT

THE TBZ FRAT HOUSE IS HOSTING THE BLACK OUT OR BACK OUT COLLAB BY @juyeonszn AND @itsbeeble!

YOU'RE INVITED!

PAIRINGS: tbz x f!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, minimal angst, crack

WARNINGS: smut, minor angst, fluff, mentions of injuries, alcohol, swearing, more warnings to be added to the individual fics 18+ MINORS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

SUMMARY: Have you ever wondered what your favorite frat boyz are up to in their personal lives? If so, then these fics are just for you! Join us as we take a glimpse into the Tau Beta Zeta fraternity and see what they get up to in their free time!

MORE: The way me and Fawn have been planning this for so long omgggg. Me and Fawn are so excited to announce this collab in celebration of my 1 year on tumblr, 6 year anniversary of The Boyz, AND as just a fun little event!! I hope you guys are as excited for this as I am hehe. And please feel free to send an ask or comment on this post if you'd like to be tagged in each part!!

PERM TAGLIST: @juyeonszn @winterchimez

FALL SEMESTER

TRY HARD — LEE JUYEON (12/6)

Need to get rid of some junk? Well these college hunks will haul YOUR junk! Give us a call at xxx-xxx-JUNK and we’ll haul YOUR junk for FREE! (limited time offer)

EXCITEMENT — JI CHANGMIN (12/6)

You know, when you told your girl friends that you’d never finished before, you were expecting it to blow over like no big deal. What you weren’t expecting was for it to spiral into a whole other mess.

SEEING STARS — KIM SUNWOO (12/10)

It’s slightly embarrassing how Sunwoo is naive enough to take Eric Sohn’s “advice” to heart. Luckily, you like idiots. Especially when they kick a ball into your face and agree to do a semester’s worth of schoolwork for you.

CLUMSY — JU HAKNYEON (12/10)

When Haknyeon ran into you at a TBZ party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. Or literally. Or both simultaneously. But there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

"FRIENDLY" COMPETITION — LEE SANGYEON (12/14)

The TBZ frat had always had a rivalry with the KAT sorority. At least, they did when you and Sangyeon became the presidents three years ago. What happens when you mix a little friendly competition into this rivalry of yours?

JE NE SAIS QUOI — JACOB BAE (12/14)

Jacob thought the concept of fraternities was stupid. So stupid that despite every single one of his friends being in one, he still refused to join. However, after meeting you at one of the TBZ parties, he’s starting to think maybe they’re not that horrible.

SPRING SEMESTER

LET LOOSE — KIM YOUNGHOON (12/19)

Younghoon has hated you since the day he met you. He thought you were stuck up with that better-than-you princess attitude of yours. What better than to just…fuck it right out of you?

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED — LEE HYUNJAE (12/19)

Becoming friends with Lee Hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. Also not on your bingo card? Waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

NO BITCHES? — ERIC SOHN (12/22)

When you met Eric, you’d thought he was just another frat boy, looking to get into any woman’s pants (particularly yours at that moment). You never would’ve thought that he was just a loser who really liked FNAF and just thought you were pretty.

PARTY O'CLOCK — CHOI CHANHEE (12/22)

In spite of being a frat boy himself, Chanhee could never actually see himself enjoying the luxuries of the title. Besides, how could he with all the responsibilities of being treasurer? Enter you and your carefree spirit and Chanhee’s got a real big problem on his hands.

PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER — KEVIN MOON (PT. 1 | PT. 2)

It wasn’t like you and Kevin hated each other. In fact, you quite admired him despite his somewhat indifferent attitude toward you. Well, now that you’re paired up for the last dance of the year, you guess it’s the perfect time to find out why.

518 notes · View notes

strayed-quokka · 23 days ago

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babydoll || ji changmin || act ii

↳ Changmin isn’t popular nor is he rich, whereas you run on the other end of the spectrum, spoilt and living on your dads credit card. when you’re tasked with kicking him out of the biggest party of your year, you come to realise he’s not all that bad. unfortunately, falling in love with the ji changmin is your one way ticket to social suicide.

↳ pairing: ji changmin x female reader + ex lee juyeon x female reader

!!! this is not a love triangle !!!

~ rating: NC-17 minors please do not interact with this work

↳ genre: enemies to acquaintances to reluctant friends to lovers, slowburn, drama, angst, happy end but it takes a long ass time, rich girl broke ass uni boy

~ warnings: everyone still kinda sucks, juyeon is toxic and a red flag, manipulation, emotional abuse, toxic relationships, family abuse (implied, vaguely shown), bullying, reader is still a pain to deal with, alcohol, drug use, the classism is strong in this one still, implications of an eating disorder, body issues, body modifications (tongue and nipple piercings), changmin is basically a chainsmoker but we love him, minnie teaching ya'll and reader how to roll a cigarette, cocaine is common, so is imported wine, swearing, pet names (little doll, doll, darling, princess), whore and bitch, suicidal ideation, mild violence, first degree burns, taller reader with long hair, is anyone redeemable?

everyone is an adult in their 20s

!!! if I missed anything or I remember something else I will add it !!!

↳ words: 28,173

a/n: this is late. I apologise this shit is long as hell to edit and it broke tumblr and my computer.

I have said this previously but I will be stating this every chapter. There are some specific physical attributes to this reader which I usually avoid doing but for the story itself it was necessary.

Also, please note that the warnings are applicable to the chapter in question, not necessarily the whole story. You can find all the general warnings on the masterlist to babydoll. I also take no responsibility if you take issue with the topics and characters at hand once proceeding as I would hope you have read the warnings beforehand. If there is something I did genuinely miss in the warnings you are more than welcome to tell me though, since there is a lot and some might get overlooked.

let me know if you wanna be on the taglist and please I beg love up on this changmin he's taking all the strength I have and possess.

babydoll playlist || act i

You could go without hearing Changmin’s voice for the rest of your life. It’s not that it was an unattractive tone or that it was harsh, but it was the person behind it that immediately brought you to a halt. There was a very big part of you that almost knew what this was going to be about, and you were set on avoiding it.

It was the very first time you didn’t stay to catch his attention. You walked away, heading down the stairs to the first floor in an attempt to shake him off. But Changmin was stubborn in his pursuit of you, especially today, and he persisted in running after you until he caught up and stood right in front of you to block your path.

“Why am I wrapped up in a rumour that you want to fuck me?”

It’s painfully embarrassing to hear those words from him. You’d expected it, given that in the past few days, the looks you’d received were ones that made you feel cornered, like prey being chased. Chanhee had even asked you, in a tone that sounded so judgemental that for a moment you thought he’d slipped into the opposing side. Juyeon’s side.

Hyunjae had been worse. You’d deemed him a maybe friend, especially considering how he’d been standing up for you recently, but his tone, like he was amused and laughing at your massive fuck up and that it was somehow funny to him, had made you cold towards him.

Younghoon was a nightmare. He’d grabbed your long hair by the roots and dragged you into an empty hallway to shame you. You’d embarrassed Juyeon and everyone knew about it. You fucked your ex boyfriend, used him for his money like a whore and then had the audacity to think about someone else.

It’s not like you had wanted to.

It had been an honest mistake, a thought that fell away from you.

Your social status had fallen to a new low. To a degree that had even Chanhee wary of speaking to you around others. You didn’t blame him, as you knew if it had been him, you’d likely cast him out much the same. See, that was the thing in both your circles, when it was all wealth and appearance and nothing of substance. Looks mattered, behaviour mattered, how awful you were to keep it perfect didn’t matter at all.

You missed Chanhee but you didn’t beg for him. He spoke to you when he desired, asked if you were okay, even apologised once when you were alone, but the damage was done.

Chanhee couldn’t fully understand it either. He knew you so well, he knew you’d never jeopardise yourself to this extent, so how were you possibly so stupid?

You straighten your posture but you’re more nervous than usual, hiding your palms underneath your hoodie as you fiddle with the sleeves.

Yes, the same hoodie the man before you had returned perfectly new, wearing it like an oversized dress with heels that once again made you just a little taller, and right now, it reassured you. You were above him, both physically and in status, and that still remained true. He would never be better than you.

“Says who?”

You’re stoic and nonchalant in your behaviour, even ice cold as you try to keep all your expressions away from his prying eyes, but Changmin only raises his brows and leans against the wall in disbelief because he doesn’t believe it. You’re not sure why he doesn’t, anyone usually would, but he looks at you like you’re see through, like everything is laid out in front of him, like he knows you down to the bone and it makes you extremely uncomfortable to know that he’s analysing you for more than just your body.

“Half the school is asking me why you moan my fucking name when some asshole fucks you and your concern is who?”

To be perfectly fair, both were of your concern. The fact that so many people approached a social outcast to ask him what the fuck you were doing, what you had done, all because Juyeon ran his mouth, just as much as who specifically had been the one to bring this to Changmin’s attention.

“Juyeon?”

“No, though I hear he’s been riding out the emotionally torn up victim perfectly,” you almost laugh because you can imagine it so well. Juyeon’s ego had been bruised and he had to run around so that everyone would know about it, but you caught yourself by hiding the slight smile behind your hand.

It wasn’t funny.

“I really don’t care, you know? You can fantasise about me all you want. Is that why you kept my hoodie?”

He’d been so close. So close to making you take a step back, if even just for a minute to tell him it was okay. Because the reality, as much as you hated it, was that none of this was really Changmin’s fault, even if you wanted it to be.

And then he went and ruined it, and it made you snap.

“You think I fucking like Juyeon going around telling people that I said someone else’s name when I fucked him?! Like you so graciously told me to?!

“I didn’t-”

“Don’t you think I’m humiliated enough?! It’s so fucking embarassing that it had to be you,” and that’s when you break. The cruelty of your words aren’t lost on you, but the emotional torment and humiliation you feel is even worse. You don’t let yourself, but it happens almost on its own when you start to cry, and you never cry.

Not like this, but the tears fall so freely that you couldn’t catch the droplets between your fingers even if you tried, and Changmin just stands there like an idiot. He stands there and you’re not sure if it’s because he’s amused in watching your vulnerability or because he genuinely feels bad, but either feel equally as bad at this point.

You run away as a result, and this time it proves successful as Changmin doesn’t seem to be following you, so you keep going. You run all the way to your car and when the door closes you allow yourself to really break, because you feel like your life is ruined. You feel like everything you worked for, and everything that was so unbearably painful to work towards, was for nothing. People looked at you now and saw one thing. You were the one who hurt Juyeon, someone well loved, in a manner that is so utterly humiliating that anyone would say he deserved better.

Juyeon was never the bad guy, and you just had no idea how to possibly spin it so that he could look to be the one who’d caused you more pain than you’d caused him. For the truth to your relationship had ran deep behind closed doors and you’d never let anyone in on it, and yet you slip up once and he lets the mask fall on who you are.

At least, who you are in his eyes.

You were sure now more than ever before that you and Juyeon were over, and it was like experiencing a break up all over again. It hurt, a lot, because there was once a time in which you would’ve said you maybe loved him. And the reality of him at the very least never caring to preserve your dignity and appearances when he knew how hard you worked for it and what you did to attain it, was a brutal reality that you simply did not want to face.

Weeks go by and you’re sure your life has hit a wall that you’ll never get over. You felt dramatic, sure, but you were certain you could simply cease to exist and it wouldn’t really matter anymore. It wasn’t that you’d made any plans at your life. It was more so a feeling of if you faded away, would it even make a difference?

You didn’t think it would. You’d let yourself sink to the status that Juyeon had asked for. You crashed, horrifically, falling so depressed that getting to class was a challenge, much less looking presentable. Your endless pairs of heels were replaced with trainers, ones you liked from dior but not nearly as graceful and elegant as what you usually had on, and you practically lived in hoodies that posed as dresses because they were just about long enough.

You still wore make up, but it was far less intricate than before, and your hair was usually up in a high ponytail because you just wanted it out of your face, and you wanted to hide the fact that you barely had the energy to brush through it.

Everything was tiring. Having everyone stare at you, treat you so far beneath yourself for something that had been no one's business was an awful, terrifyingly isolating feeling. You’d never been more aware of your appearance ever before as you were now, and yet you’d also never been as unenthused to fix it in your life. What was the point when the looks were the same. You were judged, beneath them.

You’d sunk to Changmin’s status, and for the first time you wondered how he could do it. How was he able to brush almost anything off, to seem so unbothered, when he was being torn apart from all directions. You’d done it to him, but you’d seen others do it far worse, and yet he acted just the same. It was something you wished you knew how to mirror, for maybe then it would at least earn you some respect back where he couldn’t, because he lacked the privilege you had.

Chanhee had brought you a coffee in the morning, your absolute favourite order and therefore you knew how expensive it was. A mix of extra shots of coffee and syrup, but it was refreshing and made you smile as he kissed the top of your head. You appreciated it more than he probably knew, because Chanhee hadn’t been around you much in recent weeks. Ever since it happened, you wouldn’t call it distance, but more missed chances to cross each other and neither of you made an effort to fix it.

Normally, Chanhee loved to pry. He wanted all the dirt and tea he could get out of you, but it’s like he knew to not cross this line, and the end result was distance. It was ironic, really, because you could’ve really used someone to talk to. For someone to ask with a non judgemental tone what the actual fuck had happened.

Even if in truth you didn’t fully know either where the hell you had gone wrong.

Changmin had tried to talk to you one more time but you’d turned him away. It’s like he’d chosen the worst moment, exactly when Hyunjae and Juyeon turned the hallway towards you both, and if you had even considered staying for a bit to hear what he had to say, it all went out the window as they showed up. You turned so fast to run that the three of them would likely fail to catch you.

Juyeon had somehow managed to spread more rumours, because the kicked little kitten had seen you with the very man you’d thought of. It felt ridiculous, even pathetic, the way he was dragging it, and yet the way you knew to stand up for yourself was entirely lost on you. You forgot to speak, forgot how to be firmly yourself with your thoughts to tell them all to go to hell. You forgot how to exist in yourself.

You went home that day and saw Changmin’s dark hoodie laying on the edge of your bed where you’d left it in the morning, and you decided you’d had enough. You weren’t a weak person, and you were letting yourself be walked over and dragged with the name of someone you didn’t even like. Why the hell would you stand for it, like he was worth more than you?

It was five in the morning when you got ready for your lecture three hours away. You dragged yourself into your shower, your little cat watching you with peculiar eyes because you were never up this early. She knew that, so she found it rather odd and just sat there perched curiously on the counter where all your makeup was messily strewn about for someone else to clean.

Changmin might’ve forgotten about the hoodie entirely, accepting defeat and transferring ownership, but you wanted to cut any and all strings with him. You wanted to have no part of you be intertwined with him, no association or ties that meant you even knew each other.

And you would do it looking absolutely stunning.

Your dress sits so tight it threatens to hurt you, but it forms around your body well and the length is just enough to be acceptable if you tape it to your thigh before it rises above your ass. Not class appropriate, but its never bothered you before.

You decide to wear one of your three red bottom heels, the highest ones you own, the colour black to go with the same coloured dress, paired with your silver jewellery. The ridiculous hoodie in your hand ruins the entire aesthetic, but at least you’d be rid of it soon.

When your driver drops you off at school, you make the not so unusual albeit stupid decision to cut a line of cocaine on a small piece of decorated glass that you keep in the car to break and distribute the powder into lines, because you’re tired as hell and have to withstand a lot of stares today. That, and you would willingly go looking for Changmin, his piece of clothing hidden away, folded neatly and delicately in a discarded designer shopping bag from one of your many expensive trips on your exes dime.

Maybe you needed a cigarette. A bottle of wine wouldn’t hurt either.

“You look very nice today,” it was a careful voice, Hyunjae, but you frowned when you turned to look at him. He was alone, well dressed with a cologne you couldn’t recognise, rare in your case, but nice. It wasn’t overbearing, and it mirrored the man in front of you quite well.

“Since when do you take the time to give me a compliment?”

“I just think you look nice,” he sounds honest and sincere, which in truth you do believe he means. You don’t think he’s carelessly choosing to say words to make you feel better, but it still doesn’t sit well with you, so you smile at him gently and touch his shoulder to squeeze it and ask for his attention.

“Well don’t, Jae,” he lets you leave, and you’re determined more than anything to find the man you wish to blame everything on. There’s a bounce to your step, wide awake now as the drug infiltrates your bloodstream, and you’re almost a little excited to get it all over with.

You’re even more excited at the prospect of dragging Juyeon down beneath you, but that was for later.

You’d just about given up on finding Changmin when after your final class, the library proved successful in your search. However, it also proved to be a mistake. You’re not sure what the reason is, but seeing Changmin makes you stop. You hit that familiar wall, except now it's a dam and it’s threatening to break. And if it breaks, so do you.

You’re emotionally charged in a way you don’t want to be, simply because you see him standing there, reaching for a book dressed in a simple t-shirt with his glasses perched over his nose that looks almost crafted from the side at which you're standing. It hits you suddenly, that you find Changmin to be physically beautiful. Even when he isn’t well dressed, there is a simplicity to him that is welcoming, and it makes you want to turn away.

He notices you, probably because a shadow loomed to his side and he was notified of your presence because you simply stood there. He’s carrying three books, and you wonder what they are, but then he moves towards you with a confused stare that has you thinking you couldn’t do this.

“Is there something on my face?”

His voice breaks you free from your mind in which you are a prisoner, or at least feel like one with your overwhelming thoughts that you simply never wish to have. Everything seems so easy for him, talking to you seems simple, and you’re wondering why you can’t formulate words to return it when it shouldn’t require any effort at all.

“I have your hoodie,” you keep your voice low just in case, but he hears it and seems to curiously perk up at the prospect of getting his clothes back.

“Oh? I figured you were keeping that,” honestly, so did you. You’d really wanted to, because it was still insanely comfortable to you. You loved it, in truth, for the way it wrapped around you felt soft, like you were nestled up in something that wouldn’t hurt your skin and never sat too tight just to form your body a certain way.

“I don’t want anything that ties me to you,” you wonder if it stings, when you insult him like this, but he makes no face that tells you it does. He’s perfect at hiding how he feels, and you nearly wish to ask him how he does it. How does he remain so okay, when things so cruel and hurtful are thrown his way?

You wish to emulate it, even in this moment, but you can’t.

It’s the one part of him you wished you could learn to take for yourself.

“Are you okay?”

Those three words hit you like a knife straight through your chest, reverberating deep in your bones as your entire resolve breaks. Your walls fall apart yet again and he’s the one to do it, because in truth you aren’t and he’s the only one to even ask the questions in weeks apart from Chanhee. People you consider your friends, or would consider anything at this point that Changmin isn’t, haven’t even asked, and yet he stands before you and doesn’t even seem to stumble over the words to pose the question.

And it makes you cry.

It’s absolutely humiliating to cry like this and the mascara burns your eyes in an instant, and yet every effort to stop forsakes you because it all makes it worse. Changmin stands there so awkwardly, like he might have ways to comfort someone but no ways of knowing how to comfort you, and you’re fairly certain he wishes to turn away because he finds it uncomfortable to simply stand here with you, in a corner, far from others yet not far enough that no one could see if they didn’t go to look

“I… listen… I really didn’t mean to make you cry,” you can tell he doesn’t like it. Maybe because it’s you or he’s uneasy by it in general, but it fills you up with even more embarrassment as you try to will your body to walk away. Yet you’ve turned to stone, accepting your humiliation because how much lower could you go before his eyes? You’ve broken entirely and he’s witnessed almost every second of your demise as you became nothing of value to absolutely everyone around you. You really were like a whore.

“Can you just t-take it?”

Forcing the bag into his fingers doesn’t work, and you note for the first time the silver rings he wears. You’re surprised you missed it before, or maybe he wasn’t always wearing them, but they’re intricate in their simplicity and you wish to have a closer look, though you wouldn’t be the one to ask.

“Listen… I know you have some pathetically unjustified hatred towards me-” you scoff, only to prove his point that has him rolling his dark brown eyes because he’s exasperated that you simply can’t let him finish, “I also find you incredibly fucking annoying and a raging bitch-”

“Hey!”

You want to hit him, yet you’re not going to disagree with him. You know how to hurt people well, how to manipulate a situation and how to come out on top above everyone else and so it earned you occasionally negative titles that were sometimes deserved.

Nevertheless you weren’t quite sure what he was getting at.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?”

Whatever it was, it hadn’t been that. You hadn’t expected to be asked to go anywhere with him, and yet here you both were, in a position of vulnerability for him and one even more for you. You were conflicted and uncertain in what you’re answer should be, because even if your first thought was to say no and reject him, it wasn’t what you truly wanted.

“What?”

“Ice cream makes anything better. Don’t you think?”

Well, no, you didn’t think so, for it added weight where you didn’t need it, and yet you didn’t want to turn him away. You were upset, evidently, and he was trying to do something to bring a smile to your lips and you hated that it felt like it was working. It shouldn’t be working, and yet you were heavily considering it.

“Fine, but I don’t need us to leave together.”

“I have another class, anyway,” but the way he spoke made you wonder if he’d been willing to skip it, if you’d immediately said yes to something you’d never thought you’d hear him ask. He almost seemed bitter but you weren’t quite able to feel bad.

But you wouldn’t mind ice cream, if you were honest.

“I can meet you there,” Changmin seems surprised, perking up in a way that is strangely endearing yet you refuse a smile, waiting for him to tell you where to go.

“It's just a ten minute walk from here. Amorino, I think.”

You’d heard of it, but in truth you’d never been, but it was meant to be good for the little it cost, so maybe it was worth a try.

“Fine. I’ll be there,” you’d get some of your assignments done, maybe, but first you’d need to spend the next hour in front of a mirror so that you didn’t look like an absolute mess, even when you felt like one. Changmin looked like he wanted to say something else, but he bit his tongue and walked away from you with your hands still firmly latched around the strap of your shopping bag. You wondered if he’d intentionally left it in your grasp, if there was a reason he was no longer so hellbent on getting it back, but you weren’t going to dwell on it.

And you were not keeping it any longer either. If anything, you’d blame your willingness and brief vulnerability to say yes on the fact that you simply just wanted to be rid of him, and that included the item you were holding.

You almost wished the rain had put him off from walking through the glass doors that led inside a sickly sweet smelling cafe, slightly cool because of the various ice cream needing the lower temperature. Sadly, it hadn’t, and Changmin walked in just a little over an hour after you had taken a seat in a corner far inside the shop, hoping that if anyone you knew would walk past, they wouldn’t recognise you. When he spots you, he seems almost as apprehensive as you to approach, brushing through his matted down wet strands of dark hair to move them away from his forehead.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” it seems true. Like he hadn’t expected you to really show up and in truth it seemed like the most reasonable assumption to make, because you really had no idea either.

“Me too,” he smiles at you and it makes you uncomfortable, for the shift in the way he treated you seemed disingenuous, yet nothing about it told you that his kindness in looking at you wasn’t real. It’s like you’d genuinely managed to amuse him with little to no effort, after the countless times in which you were a pain in his ass.

“Do you know which flavour you’d like?”

“I… honestly can’t decide,” it all sounded heavenly. You couldn’t remember when you’d last indulged in a sweet treat like this, even if it hadn’t been intentional to go so long without. It just never came to be for a very long time and suddenly you were overwhelmed with flavours that you wanted to try. You could’ve eaten half the menu, and yet you barely desired one in terms of calories.

“I think you can choose up to three for one cone,” three seemed absurd. It seemed excessive and yet the temptation to try three was so overbearing that you wanted to give in.

“Are you having three?”

“Probably,” you nod, falling silent because you really don’t know how to talk to him normally. Changmin was a stranger to you, and you fully realise it when you sit across from him and realise that you don’t know him at all. You don’t know who he is, how he thinks, aside from what he tells you, and the only other thing you know is what he looks like, and that he often adjusts his glasses as if they sit just a little too big.

“I can order for us both,” he offers, breaking you out of your trance to once again be reminded of how strange this is. You don’t like Changmin, yet sitting with him like this is simple. It’s weird, but it’s easier than expected. It’s very awkward, but it’s simple.

“You don’t have to order for me.”

“It was an offer, not a demand,” you roll your eyes, though his kindness isn’t lost on you and you’re once again sat here wondering what you’re really doing, and wondering why Changmin’s shift in personality was so sudden but genuine.

“Stracciatella, dulce de leche and coffee.”

“I can tell you’re rich,” you wonder if it’s an insult, but if it is he’s smiling and that almost makes it worse. You know how to do it best, smile through something you didn’t mean, or something that was an insult but you wanted the other person to maybe have hope that it wasn’t meant that way. Or maybe he was joking, and the slight tease just went way over your head.

“What’re you think?”

“Vanilla, lemon and amarena,” you nod, as if to just tell him you were listening but have nothing to say.

“But I’m the rich one,” it’s your way of figuring out if he was teasing too, by doing so back and seeing what his reaction will be. Changmin seems amused and you relax in knowing that he wasn’t mocking you.

“What’s wrong with those flavours?”

“Nothing,” you draw out, staring back at the menu to decide on a coffee, “I’ll get a drink.”

Changmin seems to hesitate just briefly and realisation dawns on you. You’ve always looked down on him for having less money, for not affording things, but it didn’t cross your mind that he might not even be able to afford this. The issue then became that you had no idea how to delicately approach it.

“I’ll pay for it,” you tell him, but there’s surprise on his face and a hint of frustration, and you wonder if you read it all wrong.

“I’m not in poverty, you do know that, right?”

Honestly, you didn’t. It might’ve been embarrassing to admit but you weren’t quite sure at what point someone was considered within poverty because very often, your parents had shown you that even the most common ordinary people lacked money and therefore weren’t content in life. You had no real way of measuring what was really considered little. Hell, you barely knew what your family had in regards to wealth, because you rarely looked at the money you spent. You knew you always had it, so you spent it, without having to think about it.

In your mind, anyone that had to consider their spending was poor.

Sat here now with Changmin was probably the first moment in which you briefly think that might’ve been wrong. That maybe he was cautious with money but not without it. If he was without it, he would likely not be as inviting to sit with and dressed the way he was, even if you’d never buy clothes like the ones he wore.

“I’d still like to pay,” you offer, and you’re not really sure why. You’re here to give him this stupid bag that’s been weighing down on your mind all day as you chased after him, and maybe you’re also hoping to buy his silence on the fact that you cried before him and have done so twice now.

“I invited you here,” he was right. Usually, at least how you were raised, the one inviting the other is the one to pay unless otherwise agreed, which had never been the case for you before, yet it was now.

“And I’m telling you to let me pay.”

“You’re really demanding you know?”

You knew. It’s how you got what you wanted, to make demands rather than ask questions. Changmin seems displeased but he doesn’t argue with you, shrugging his jacket off to drape it over the chair before he gets up and waits.

“What?”

“You’re not coming with?”

“Just take my card. Three, five, seven, two,” you hold it out to him between your long manicured nails and he looks at you like you’re insane. It’s another reminder of how different you two are, of how giving him access to sums he’s never even seen or hoped to dream of meant absolutely nothing to you, because it really didn’t.

“Thanks?”

Changmin walks away, but it’s only brief before he’s turned back around to approach you, “which coffee did you want?”

“A latte macchiato,” he nods, leaving you alone with your thoughts again as you watch his back. The weather has since gotten worse, but it’s quite cosy from here, to simply watch the rain fall, the droplets chasing after one another from top to bottom, only to repeat over and over again in different patterns. The heating was on too, and it was quite comfortable to simply sit here.

The girl at the counter smiles at Changmin in a way that makes you want to turn away, not because someone flirting with him bothers you, but because you can’t believe how ridiculous she’s being in doing so. He’s here with you, and she’s practically begging for it.

Whatever she says, he seems polite but distant enough for her to straighten her posture and adjust her smile to a more professional one, and so you take that as a rejection on his part. You’re not sure why you find that so satisfying, that she didn’t get her way, but you’re happy about it regardless as he’s handed two ice cream cones that seem far more intricate than you’d expected.

It’s only when he comes closer that you realise that the ice cream has been layered together to form the shape of multiple rose petals and ultimately a flower, three separately assorted colours that make up the flavours you asked for, “they’re still making the coffees.”

“Thanks,” you take the ice cream from him carefully, admiring its shape and look. It’s beautiful, really, and it does put a gentle smile on your face as you manage a little laugh in amusement, “it’s pretty.”

You wonder if Changmin knew how they put the ice cream together. If maybe he suggested this place because he figured something as simple as an ice cream shaped like beautiful petals belonging to a rose would cheer you up or make you feel better for the absolute mess that had become your life. For the emotional turmoil you felt as you fell in importance and high regard in others’ eyes.

You mattered less to almost everyone you knew and it bothered you greatly.

Both of you fall silent, likely because neither of you have anything to say. There’s nothing to talk about, not between the two of you, and there’s no attempt at changing it either. Neither of you want to become friends, and yet here you both sit being friendly.

How strange the world worked sometimes.

“I’m sorry Juyeon’s such a dick to you,” it takes you by complete surprise to hear him speak, and whilst normally you’d find yourself frustrated to hear him even bring it up again, it’s oddly comforting to hear an opinion you agree with, albeit planned to have kept from Changmin. You want him to believe that things are perfect, that you and Juyeon are perfect, because you hold on to the false belief that maybe it would be.

“Juyeon’s just… a guy, I guess.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” you wonder why he says it. If he’s trying to tell you he’s better than Juyeon and if so, why it would matter. You have no interest in him and never would, so there was no need for Changmin to make himself better than the man you somehow spent still loving, despite all his horrifying flaws.

And there were many of them, and yet you still saw it with rose tinted glasses. Whilst aware of it, it mattered less to you.

“I don’t plan to ever have sex with you if-“

“That wasn’t an invitation,” again, your eyes roll almost instantly. He’s too good at being frustrating, and he sits there with his body leaned forward like he’s engaged in you while he takes a bite of his ice cream.

A bite.

“You’re insane. Why do you bite it?”

“It’s food?”

“It’s cold.”

“Why would I want to just lick it? I barely get any ice cream and then it melts.”

You watch as he bites into another petal and you push your body up a little to see what flavour it might’ve been.

“Vanilla,” he answers and you nod, sitting back with your one leg crossed over the other.

“Isn’t vanilla a little plain?”

“Is that a double entendre?”

It’s so easy to give up when the conversation is so static, so forced because you truly have nothing to talk about. What the hell do you both even have in common?

“I have a cat,” Changmin laughs and it’s a little unexpected, his smile so light and his dimples set deep in his cheeks. It’s an inviting smile, warm, and his tone of laughter is unique and suits him. There’s a childlike amusement to his features as he looks down at the table.

“I also have a cat,” you were curious to see her, or him, but you didn’t really want to ask. Both of you sharing photos of your pets over ice cream and coffee was a little bit too friendly, but you supposed there was now something you had in common, “but I don’t really like cats.”

Nevermind.

“Then why do you have one?”

He thinks, just for a minute as he drinks some of his coffee that had been brought over just a few short minutes before, and you must say now you really want to know why he has a pet he doesn’t even like.

“I found him on the streets. He was put in a box and it was raining. Wasn’t going to take him first because I didn’t want one. But when I went to call someone in the shop nearby, he’d somehow jumped out of the box and started to follow me. He just wouldn’t leave.”

It was unexpectedly sweet and very much something you would’ve never considered. Of course your cat was store bought, expensive and from a litter from a breeder that had done this for the past decade or two. Getting a cat of the streets, even if unintentionally was so out of your character, but you knew when to admit you found it to be kind of Changmin to have done so.

“You kept him?”

“I did. He’s very sweet.”

“Chanhee says my cat is a diva.”

“So she takes after you. Figures,” you could hit him, but you bite your tongue and try a new flavour of the ice cream petals. Coffee. Definitely.

The conversation dies again when it would be so easy to keep it going, but it’s like neither of you have any desire to do so. And yet, you find yourself far more at ease sitting here than you would’ve thought when you first agreed to it. You didn’t feel like you had to make up the silence that you both shared.

He seemed to share the same thoughts, though he didn’t often share eye contact with you. You weren’t sure if he was hesitant to or maybe he just didn’t want to look at you, but previous times you’d met him, he’d always been good at looking you in the eye. It was a little strange that he seemed to look everywhere else but at you now, unless you spoke.

“You smoke, right?” Painful. These occasional conversations littered into being sat here were just simply weird, but you watch as he grabs a bag of loose tobacco out of his jacket as well as some rolling paper and a filter.

“Didn’t you smoke straights last time?”

“You remember?”

Fuck.

“I didn’t forget you offering me one,” he shrugs and you watch as he distributes the tobacco onto the paper carefully between his jewellery adorned fingers. It was distracting and you could curse again for it, because he was doing it all effortlessly with one hand.

“You want one now?”

“I can do it…” he seems to hesitate though ultimately pushes the bag of tobacco over to your end of the table, and you fiddle with the cone of your ice cream between your one hand whilst figuring out how to do this with the other. Actually, how the fuck had Changmin done this?

“How did you-”

“Put it on the table first. You can roll with one hand,” he was definitely more confident in your abilities than you were, and maybe that was sweet but it was also giving you far more credit than you deserved.

You didn’t even want to admit that you couldn’t roll a cigarette at all. You always bought straights, the times you bought any at all. Doing it yourself seemed like extra effort for not much pay off.

You try to mirror Changmin, seeing how much tobacco he used and loosening up the dried leaves between your fingers the way he had done as they all clung together in the bag, then adding a generous amount to the paper you’d taken out of its flat packaging.

“Do you always smoke American spirit?”

“I tend to. Or marlboro. Why?”

You shrug, going back to what you’re doing but you very quickly realise you’ll need both hands. Watching him do it, pushing and pinching the thin paper together to tighten the tobacco with two fingers, maybe three at best, was ridiculous.

“Do you want me to hold your ice cream?”

At this point, you’re determined to prove both him and you that you can do this, when you know the reality is you can’t. Changmin doesn’t know that though, and how hard could it be to roll a cigarette, really?

“You can have it.”

“You have more than half left,” he frowns, putting his nearly rolled cigarette down on the table as he holds your ice cream, watching you and the way your fingers take both ends of the paper to pinch it together, “is it not good?”

“It’s nice. It’s not the flavour,” hopefully, he knows to drop the conversation. Though you look up and can tell by his expression that he likely wants to keep asking but you don’t see why you should need to justify it.

“You need to… no… you have too much,” he sighs, wanting to reach over but both his hands are occupied with both of your ice cream cones and so he can only sit trapped wishing to intervene as you try to make adjustments when he complains with no real instructions as to how you can do it better, “you’ve never done this before.”

“So I’ve been caught,” as if one of the cafe staff had noticed him struggling, they bring over a holder for two ice cream cones that are scattered on a few tables, yours not having been one of them.

“Thank you,” he redirects his attention to you, hands free, “look, I’ll teach you,” you scoff, crossing your arms as you’ve let go of the damaged bundle of tobacco in a scrunched up paper, looking between its state and back up at Changmin. You didn’t want him to teach you anything, because you didn’t think he had anything worth showing you. Yet at the same time, you didn’t enjoy not knowing how to do something, and if he was willingly prepared to show you how to actually do it, maybe you shouldn’t deny him.

“I don’t really smoke…”

“I won’t encourage you to,” he grabs another rolling paper, holding it out to you and you hesitate but ultimately take it between your fingers as he does the same, ignoring his near finished cigarette to start over, “but I smoke a lot, so I’ll take it off your hands if you don’t want it.”

“You’ll get cancer,” you’re disgusted but you don’t have much of a right to be. You smoke too and do far worse things. Every party could bring you to the brink of death if you aren’t careful enough with what you’re using, and yet you’re telling him he’s risking his life.

“Thanks, the packaging hadn’t told me,” you recognise Changmin’s sarcastic tone well by now, given that it’s the tone he mostly spoke to you in, but you also don’t retaliate this time. You had nothing to say, nothing to add that wouldn’t be another circular back and forth of neither of you ever getting to the point or settling a fight.

“The tobacco is quite tight, so you’ll have to loosen it with your fingers a little before you put it on the paper.”

“What about the filter?”

“It’s harder to roll with a filter. Try without first,” but you’re stubborn, and you grab a filter and bring it to one edge of the rolling paper before he can take it away from you. Sighing, he relents and grabs one too to demonstrate more accurately.

“You’re ridiculous,”

“And I won’t be caught dead smoking a non filtered cigarette.”

“You should try it. The nicotine high is amazing,” okay, so maybe you’d reconsider. You’d never thought of it, even if it was obvious, “you’re curious now.”

“I might be,” Changmin smiles and your cheeks feel a little warmer, but surely it’s the warm coffee and the indoor heating and not the fact that he looked at you with eyes that were gentle, like his happiness in showing you something wasn’t structured into an act of false behaviour.

Then you wonder why it makes any difference. If he wasn’t being genuine, did it matter?

He leans back over and slips the filter away from your paper, then adjusts and sits up a little straighter before his body moves back into your space to be a little closer to demonstrate.

“So, you loosen some of the tobacco between your fingers. This one is quite dry- and then you bring it onto the paper like so,” you follow his lead, though you could’ve managed this part on your own. This was the one part you’d done correctly without his help, “you want it to be pretty even but don’t worry about it not being perfect.”

“It has to be perfect,” he sighs, his head rolling down in defeat before he slowly looks back up at you.

“Perfection is an unattainable fantasy. Now take your fingers and move them to either edge and pinch while rolling it like so.”

You follow his lead though if you’re entirely honest, you have no idea how he makes it look so easy and effortless. His tobacco bunches together into a beautiful neat line perfectly, whilst yours is a disaster in which it falls or thins out too much on one end. It feels awkward and incorrect, the way you do it, and yet you’re following his exact instructions.

“You’re terrible at this.”

“Or you suck at teaching,” giving up was tempting, but showing Changmin defeat wasn’t an option. You wanted to get this, no matter how awful the end outcome would be.

“You have the ends. Move your fingers more into the middle to roll.”

“It doesn’t work like that!”

He looks exasperated, his glasses moving slightly as he raises his brows and huffs out in annoyance at your inability to do something he deemed simple, “you’re just bad at this. That’s okay.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not bad at things.”

“Just roll the paper over once you have the right shape. Wet the end and seal it and then you can tap the end against the table,” he shows you how, but he does it so quickly you barely manage to follow his movements. He’s amazing at it, you do have to admit, but you hate him for it because you want to be better. It’s irrational, because how realistic is it for you to be better at rolling a cigarette when you’d never done it before, when Changmin had probably done it for years?

“It’s not tight like yours though.”

“Just try. You have the movement right,” but it doesn’t feel right. It feels awkward and you might just blame it on your acrylics for not managing, but the end result is so pathetic that you’re surprise the cigarette even holds.

“It’s… a cigarette.”

“I’m not smoking that,” Changmin doesn’t seem surprised, but he does surprise you when he places his perfectly rolled cigarette right before you and takes yours instead, placing it behind his ear before retrieving his jacket and taking his melting ice cream, “you coming?”

Well, you suppose you were now.

You grab the bag with his hoodie in one hand, Changmin’s cigarette in the other as you follow him outside, leaving your ice cream to melt before it’s thrown away. It’s not unnoticed by him either, and he turns around to grab it between his fingers, “if you won’t have it, I will. You’re wasting money and good ice cream.”

“I’m watching my figure.”

“Why?”

He holds both cones in one hand with their remnants of sweet gelato, placing his cigarette between his lips and lighting it with one hand turned away from the storm and rain. The shop has an overhang to shield you both from direct downpour, but lighters are stubborn with wind and he seems to know it well.

His one worded question seems strange. It’s not worried, nor is it judgemental. At least you don’t perceive it to be. It’s simply confused, like he’s genuinely surprised that you would even bother at all.

“Because I want to be thin.”

Changmin wants to say something. You can tell he does, that there’s something right on his lips yet he doesn’t speak it. He resists words he probably knows you really don’t want to hear. He would be right, because any comments about your body aren’t welcomed unless they’re compliments that remind you of what you’ve worked for. All the times you don’t eat are rewarded with the acknowledgement of it.

“Here,” he holds out his lighter, the flame igniting right by your lips in which the cigarette is perched carefully, and you lean in enough and inhale so that it burns.

“Thanks.”

“You really are peculiar,” you don’t see how you are. From your point of view, he’s the abnormal one. He dresses cheap despite the school he attends, he doesn’t socialise, and he seems so ignorant to his surroundings and the importance of appearance, “I have to go.”

It takes you by surprise. Your thoughts had been so tangled and convoluted that you hadn’t seen him take his phone out, much less fumble with the ice cream, his cigarette and the device to answer whoever it was.

You wondered who it was.

“Who is it?”

You can’t help it. Call it morbid curiosity, even in regards to Changmin of all people, “I completely forgot I have a date.”

The thought of anyone going out with Changmin was a concept you weren’t ready to wrap your head around, but maybe if it was a girl he’d met online, she’d based it merely on appearance and even you wouldn’t fully be able to say that he was ugly. You knew he wasn’t, as much as it pained you to admit he was actually rather beautiful when he didn’t open his mouth.

“Is she cute?”

“She’s cute, yeah,” but he doesn’t seem excited. It almost feels like an insult to hear how he speaks about the prospect of his date. Were all men like this?

Had Juyeon been so disinterested when he first dated you?

“You’re going dressed like this?”

“What’s wrong with it?”

Boy, he really wasn’t trying. It felt near cruel, because you were almost certain that the girl would be beautiful, and even if her physical appearance wasn’t as gorgeous, she would make up for it in every way with the way she chose to dress.

And Changmin was in casual attire, his hair had fallen to his face and he seemed tired.

“Poor girl.”

“It’s really not your business,” and then he discards his cigarette and grabs the bag you’d been holding without warning, practically ripping it out of your hand and the movement feels more aggressive than you’re used to from him. His tone could be harsh but his actions never were, and so it surprised you when he didn’t even ask to take it.

“Thank you for the hoodie.”

He doesn’t sound thankful at all. Changmin sounds annoyed, as he throws the little remnants of ice cream cone with next to no ice cream left, in the trash he passes as he walks away from you. You stand there, empty handed aside from the cigarette that was burning but barely smoked, and you honestly feel lost. You’re strangely confused and unsure, and you really don’t quite know why.

You felt like maybe you’d managed to really get under his skin, and if that were the case, you were sure it was the first time you’d ever managed it. Yet you’d expected it to feel different, to frustrate him enough to show true emotion in his anger and discontent towards you.

Instead it just felt like nothing.

You’re not sure what to make of Changmin. But you had bought a packet of loose tobacco and pink rolling paper to fiddle with in the comfort of your large bedroom. You were near naked, just out of your shower and only in underwear whilst you fiddled around with the cigarette in your hand. It was fucking difficult, and you’d probably gone through ten different videos on youtube teaching you how to do it. At least trying to, and each time you just failed to fully do it right.

Juyeon had called you and while you’d originally wanted to pick up and even thought to, by the time you made any attempt to move your hands, he’d already hung up.

Chanhee had also called though and you had picked up, asking how he was though he pushed for you to answer first, and you hadn’t known what to say. You felt fine yet simultaneously you felt strangely numb. It wasn’t that you didn’t care, it’s that Juyeon had worn you down. He’d broken something in you and collecting the pieces wasn’t possible because not all parts still existed.

Convincing yourself that it was over was difficult when Juyeon was right there to call back.

You wanted to.

It takes about ten failed attempts at rolling a cigarette before you manage one that’s just decent enough to smoke, and in your mind you wish to share your success with Changmin, since he was the one that had witnessed your inability to do it in the first place. You wanted to prove a point, as petty and unimportant as it was. You could roll a damn cigarette.

But you’d rather roll over in your grave than ask anyone for his phone number. If anyone even had it. He’d said he was supervising a friend the night you first really spoke to him but you’d yet to see him talking with anyone at all. Who was Changmin friends with, if anyone at all?

The question dwelled on you curiously. You didn’t think he’d lied to you that night, you had to at least give him the benefit of his annoying ability to always speak what you assumed to be his truth. He didn’t care of the consequence or if it hurt, and you supposed maybe that was where your one similarity lay.

If you hurt someone, it didn’t really matter as long as it made you look good.

“Dear? Could I come in?”

Your mother being home was unexpected. Her knocking on your bedroom door to ask if she could come in was even stranger. It made you worry, and you quickly discarded all your rolled cigarettes in a drawer as well as any other damning evidence aside from the one now considered a masterpiece to show off. You placed it behind your ear and straightened your posture, “yeah?”

“You need to draw the curtains,” she criticised, walking over to the massive window to give you far more than you bargained for with the natural sunlight despite the depressing clouds, “and we do not smoke indoors.”

“I’m not smoking it!”

“Attitude,” you want to sigh but you’re sure that runs in the same category as what she’d just warned you about in your tone, so you bite your tongue and just wait to hear what she wants.

“I’ve been told you’ve missed a lot of your classes.”

“By who?”

“We had dinner with the Lee’s. Juyeon expressed his concern over you. Why you ever broke up with that handsome young man is beyond me, Y/N,” yeah, it was beyond you too, at this point. Clearly you were the fucking idiot, as everyone so rightfully had begun to assume. Juyeon was the perfect man, one most girls would probably dream of and you had him. You had him, and you wasted the opportunity to be happy with him.

And what for?

“I know, mother.”

“You should come with this time. Maybe you can both make up before we go on that lovely vacation together.”

“What…?”

She stands by the edge of your bed with condescending eyes that look down on you and make you feel small, which was ironic because your mother was about a head shorter than you and incredibly petite, but her personality was so in your face, her stare so cold that it made you feel like nothing. She made you feel insignificant and she did so perfectly.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten? You’ve always been forgetful,” you cast your eyes down to your lap, listening to her berate you and having no real way of defending yourself without it earning you a slap or worse.

“I’m sorry. Just have a lot on my mind.”

“Go on a walk. You could go to the docks on one of the boats. I don’t care. But stop missing classes because I will not have a failure of a child when she gets everything handed to her,” it stings. It really stings to be insulted so genuinely. Your grades were by no means terrible and your mother rarely cared before about any of your stupid behaviour, but you supposed as soon as your mask slipped and you fell towards lower status, she could sense it like a blood hound and she was intent on destroying you to a point in which you’d need to remodel yourself to be perfect again.

You were grateful for her, because she knew how to shape you into someone you wanted to be.

“And invite Juyeon if you’re taking the boat out!”

She leaves without another glance your way and you feel like nothing, but you also call Juyeon, so you suppose her harsh words and loveless demeanour worked. They worked at beating you down and you listened to her, but you couldn’t say you weren’t at least a little relieved when Juyeon didn’t pick up at first.

“What?”

Damn it.

“You called me first.”

“And now you’re calling me back,” it felt like a game. It was constant at this point and it never felt healthy and yet you knew no better. You weren’t dumb but Juyeon had an incredible way of making you appear to be the greatest idiot.

“My mother wants us to take the boat out,” you wait for a response, not hearing one first until there’s shuffling on the other line.

“Just us?”

“Well, she likes you,” you add, which you knew would work well for his bruised ego. Juyeon loved being told he was liked and you knew how to feed into it well. You’d spent years learning the intricacies that made up Lee Juyeon, and you doubted that would ever fully go away. You weren’t sure if you wanted it to go at all.

“Have you told her why I haven’t been around?”

“You could always tell her yourself. She hates me enough, you can’t make it worse,” you hear him on the other end and you hope he feels bad for you. You want him to, even if it’s just for a little moment.

“That’s just not as fun,” he breaks your illusioned disbelief that he could be sympathetic towards you and you wish yet again for your remaining feelings to go away.

Instead, you decide to be stupid and slip up.

“I really loved you.”

The silence is so painfully long you could honestly throw yourself out the two story window of the view your mother had just revealed to you moments before.

“You don’t love me anymore?”

The way you fell into his traps was so effortless. Juyeon wasn’t having to really try and yet you fell right into his hand every time without fail. You were so drawn to him and you couldn't tell for what reason. Because in truth you didn’t really see yourself as wanting a relationship with him, he was an asshole and yet you ran in circles because you somehow still liked him despite it all.

“Juyeon…”

“Do you love me?”

He asks it again and the question is a demand for you to answer and yet it doesn’t come naturally to you the way you want it to. It feels false, maybe because you know you’re walking yourself into a trap. Yet the trap being laid out for you to see doesn’t hinder you any less from falling into it because of the reward you see in the midst of it.

“I love you.”

“Then why don’t we celebrate?”

A yacht party was not at all what you had in mind when celebrating your pathetic attempt at clearing your image by being back on Juyeon’s side. But Juyeon had insisted and your mother had somehow overheard at some point and was practically beaming just at the prospect of Juyeon being back on one of your family boats. Her timing was masterful and you hated everything about it.

You also hated the looks you were getting, judgement, whilst Juyeon was on the opposite end of the yacht gleaming and taking in every ounce of sympathy like it fed him. He’d so graciously forgiven you, told everyone that it was an honest mistake and that he understood you both were over, and now everyone stood at his feet as if ready to do any and all of his bidding.

It was insufferable.

“I think he likes attention more than you,” Chanhee mumbles, standing next to you now with a champagne flute between his delicate fingers and you turn to him with a frown on your face.

“I think it’s pathetic.”

“I’d agree,” your best friend leans back a little, staring into the dark water as night time beams above you in the shape of a crescent moon, “but you go for it every time.”

“I’m not here for a lecture,” you have a sip of your drink, grimacing at the strength of it. You’d been a little too generous on the rum, even for your standards, but you need the alcohol if you’re going to get through this night out on open water.

“Have you seen the new kids?”

Chanhee nudges you towards another direction, one that has two younger men downing a glass of something each, and being urged on to do so by Younghoon and Hyunjae. Juyeon was now talking to a girl you didn’t care to know the name of, but he occasionally glanced over too.

“Freshmen?”

“Mhmm, one of them is kinda cute, no?”

You give your best friend an odd look before glancing back over. They both look young, not older than twenty, playful and energetic and so full of life that you wonder when that’ll go away. You wonder when both of them will realise the world is dark and being so carefree was simply being naive.

“Which one?”

Chanhee gestures to the one on the left, with dark hair and full lips that you’re sure has made girls jealous in the past, and if not jealous, at least more than willing to kiss him. He seemed to know it too, because something about him felt cocky and maybe even arrogant, despite his sweet playful smile and loud laugh that you could hear from this far away.

The other, a striking blonde colour of hair that he’d definitely bleached with a sharp pointed nose that seemed surgical, making you wonder if he’d invested in a nose job as soon as he’d turned eighteen. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had, for if it was real it was almost absurdly perfect.

“Juyeon invited them?” Chanhee shrugs, though given that neither you nor your best friend seemed to have any clue on who they were and had no influence on them showing up, you were almost certain it was Juyeon. It was near confirmed when your recent lover approached the blonde and wrapped an arm over his shoulder, ruffling through his hair playfully though you could see the roughness in his grip.

It’d surely be blamed on boys being boys.

“I’m gonna grab another drink,” you say, and you can see Juyeon’s eyes meet yours as you do. He detaches from the blonde and approaches you, and god do you wish it wasn’t noticeable to everyone that he was doing so.

“Little princess,” he leans against the railing, watching as you pour yourself more rum but in truth you are ready to down the whole bottle when he talks to you, “why’re you frowning?”

“Did you invite freshmen?”

“Who? Oh- you mean Sunwoo and Eric? I did, yeah. They’re cute, right?”

There had to be a motive. You didn’t trust Juyeon to have pure intentions and simply so graciously bring a pair of freshmen onto a party such as this. There was no way in hell Juyeon would introduce someone into his social circle without gaining something out of it. Especially someone younger than him.

“What’re you doing with them?”

“I’m thinking a sex party?” you laugh because it’s absurd, but Juyeon laughs too because he’s managed to humour you and it’s nice. It’s nice to laugh with someone you consider close, someone that is similar to you and that understands the importance of status and appearance.

“Now what is it actually?”

Juyeon looks over, seeing his friends and the two in question playing around with a lighter and the not lit outdoor fireplace. At least not lit yet, given that they were clearly trying. Hyunjae was sat on the circular couch, Younghoon lying next to him, Sunwoo standing and berating Eric who was hunched over trying to light the coal, “he needs ignition.”

“I’ll go grab it for him.”

Juyeon leaves you standing there with a bad feeling. Drunk people around a fire, intoxicated people in general around live flames was a recipe for disaster. Yet you weren’t stopping it. Maybe because you knew it wouldn’t be you to fall into it.

Chanhee had joined them, sat next to Hyunjae with his legs curled under his thighs as he held a new glass in hand, looking so delicate and regal he felt most like royalty out of all of you. He was so beautiful, it made you jealous again. It was worse, too, to know that he had naturally just formed to be this way, whilst your parents had discretely paid for your nose to be fixed, your breasts to be augmented and to have some leftover fat dissolved to appear even smaller.

Not that you’d outright admitted it to anyone, though you were sure those who’d known you long enough, knew that a part of you simply wasn’t real anymore, because reality wasn’t pretty and you wanted to be.

Juyeon joined them a few seconds after with lighter fluid, thankfully not being too generous with how much he coated the charcoal in. At least he seemed sober, more than anyone else that was sat there, and you watched Eric attempting to light the flames again, this time successful in sparking a fire that jumped high enough to nearly hit his face, making him jump back in surprise and panic at the thought of getting burned.

Unbelievable.

You walked over to them and sat down at the very edge, Eric turning his attention to you with a bright smile that surprised even you. He seemed energetic and sweet, but why he was so open to you simply coming over was a strange feeling. Juyeon noticed it too, and before you realised, he’d moved to sit between you both.

“Are you jealous?” Juyeon looks at you with a forced smile, shaking his head before having more of his drink and turning his attention to you.

“I have no reason to be,” he answers, and you suppose he’s right though just the same you wish for him to be, “I’m not the jealous type.”

It felt like a lie. Juyeon’s characteristics that made up who he was were all fairly negative and jealousy was one of them. But then he’d have ways in which he showed kindness with gentle touches and you fell into it because those touches were warm and those words were sweet.

“Not like me, right?”

You attempt a joke you both know to be true. You could easily get jealous, because the prospect of having romantic competition made you feel worthless, like you weren’t good enough, and so anger came naturally whenever your worth was threatened.

“Not like you,” he has more of his drink and you drown out the conversation, watching the way your best friend cuts up two lines of cocaine with Sunwoo now, as if he’d made a quick natural friend and you’re just at the very edge being forgotten. It’s the feeling of unimportance and being replaced that bothers you, and instead you focus on the fire right in front of you. It’s enchanting and beautiful, tempting enough to fall into because it’s warm and inviting.

It’s dangerous too and that isn’t lost on you, but you still lean a little closer, being careful to push your hair back whilst you watch the flames. You’re in a little world, one none of them are in and you honestly don’t think they ever really noticed how close you’d gotten to the fire, which ends up being the big mistake.

You’re not sure what happens, but the flames make a crackling sound and the fire rises so incredibly close to your face, you feel the heat sting at your skin. It sends you into high alert and panic, causing you to scream and turn around just quick enough to avoid it burning your face. Unfortunately, the wind and your hair among the flames causes the strands to start burning.

“What the fuck, Eric!”

“We need to put it out!” Chanhee. That’s his voice and the only one you can make out. The others barely seem to move and you’re not sure if it’s shock or because they don’t care, but Chanhee is genuinely the only one moving at first.

You can feel the way it hurts your skin, but it all happens so fast that the pain barely registers with the way the back fabric of your dress singes.

“Are you fucking stupid?” Chanhee, again, but then you feel another force that sends you falling forward and the sound of a fire extinguisher.

“YOU’RE NOT MEANT TO USE THAT ON A PERSON!”

So many voices, complete panic and you barely register any of it. You feel dazed, nearly unresponsive and it’s likely the shock settling in that just leaves you numb to it. At least the fire seems to be out, given the darkness that had cast over all of you. Your skin feels cold at first, until you feel a heavy blanket over your shoulder and Juyeon crouches in front of you.

He’s speaking to you, but you really have no idea what he’s saying. Even when he cups your cheeks, it’s completely lost on you. Nothing he says is audible and for just a brief second you wonder if maybe you’d entirely lost your hearing, though you don’t see why you would and you’d heard voices just seconds before.

You feel him touch your hair and you’re relieved more than anything to know it’s still there at first. The very relief of knowing that makes you want to cry, but you refuse to show any of them that you were scared.

“She needs a hospital. Turn the boat around,” you hate attention like this. When you’re vulnerable, it’s not what you want.

“How bad is it…?”

You sound hoarse, but Juyeon doesn’t get time to answer because Eric intervenes with panicked eyes. He looks so genuinely guilty, like a kicked puppy and you know almost immediately that deep down it was likely a genuine mistake. Though it didn’t really matter as the damage was done either way, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m really sorry.”

You don’t think you forgive him. Even if he looks sorry, you’re more than a little upset, rightfully so, “I can’t believe you’re so fucking stupid. Who’re you trying to impress, anyway?”

It cuts him, you can tell. That childlike energy that had been there before dies the second you speak to him like he means nothing. Eric looks like he could cry and you’re certain you don’t really care but something about his eyes make you feel guilty. And you don’t do well with guilt.

You force yourself up and away from everyone, pushing past Younghoon harshly because you can see him trying to bite down laughter. You’re near close to slapping him, but you don’t want even more unwanted attention.

You hide away in the bathroom and no one seems to follow you first, locking the door after yourself before stripping down to your underwear, discarding your heels and letting your feet rest bare against the tiled interior. Every bit of sound is slowly coming back, and you seem to be returning to your senses as you cast your eyes outside through the small circular window, seeing the distant city and the water break into aggressive ripples of small waves.

You run your hands through your hair, trying to adjust the mess that it probably was before you realise that certain strands come to an abrupt harsh stop. It feels uneven, shortened and burned and that’s when you first notice the smell that becomes so sharp so suddenly that it overwhelms you.

You open your palm up to be met with charcoals of black burnt hair that you’d broken trying to brush through it with your fingers and now you’re completely certain that you fucking hate Eric. He’d ruined your appearance, and it’s only confirmed when you look in the mirror and are met with something so ugly, you could break the glass in front of you.

So you do. You break down and shatter the mirror because what you see disgusts you. A part of what had made you so feminine and pretty was scorched unevenly, in parts up to your shoulder, and it was so ugly and heart wrenching you could’ve thrown up just remembering what it looked like.

It was so ugly and unattractive and the worst was knowing that everyone else had seen it before you. They had seen it, and said nothing. Juyeon had touched your strands of hair near the root and yet said nothing to indicate that a part of it was missing by the ends of where your hair usually fell.

You can’t take seeing it, and in your slightly intoxicated mind it makes you sink enough that you throw up into the toilet, hating yourself more than you ever had. It would take years to grow back the hair you’d lost, and worst was that you’d have to let go of the length that some strands still held. The ones that went unscathed and were still perfect would be lost just the same.

It was so embarrassing.

Your hand was bleeding, shards of broken glass between the knuckles but you made no attempt to get rid of them. You could’ve been dying and it would’ve meant nothing to you.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your dazed mind but you don’t respond. You hope maybe they’ll go away, but then there’s another knock followed by a third in quick succession, “want a line?”

Chanhee. You laugh at the way he speaks and then you soften because he’s there, standing on the other side and looking for you. So with the little strength you can bother to conjure up, you unlock the door for him.

“Holy shit,” it’s not you being naked that really surprises him, but rather the utter damaged state this room was in, “your parents are gonna kill you.”

“Fuck, I didn’t even think about that,” you groan, watching your best friend lock the door once more before grabbing a towel and turning on the faucet, the water presumably cold.

“I hear Juyeon’s pissed,” Chanhee starts, and it manages a smile out of you just briefly as he comes over, “Eric feels horrible, though.”

“He should,” you snarl, watching the way Chanhee grabs a pair of tweezers from his purse, disinfecting it with a wipe before grabbing your hand.

“Should I book you a hairdresser?”

You know he’s trying to lighten the mood, but you don’t find it funny. You don’t say anything as he starts to remove some of the glass from your skin, carefully and precise as to not cause you more injury. He seems to get the hint, that you’re not in the mood for anything lighthearted, so he stops and falls silent that only you break after a few minutes.

“I’m ugly, Chanhee.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll get a cute haircut and you’ll be perfect again.”

Even if that were to be true, you’d never be Chanhee. You felt so jealous, the more you thought of it. So much so, that you wanted to hate him. You wanted to tell him how unfair it was, that he didn’t deserve it when you did, but you would never dare to break what made you two so close. You loved him.

“I don’t want a haircut. I want my hair.”

“I know,” but he says it like you should know that it’s not an option. You do know, and it makes you want to die inside.

Another knock and a voice you make out to be Juyeon’s, so you let Chanhee reach over and unlock the door as a familiar figure leans in with a smirk on his face. Maybe it’s seeing you sat here naked, but you turn your head away to avoid looking at him, “ambulance is here. We’ve docked.”

Chanhee finishes getting one more piece of glass out and helps you up, Juyeon handing you your dress and helping you with your shoes, touching your bare legs so carefully that it makes you feel a little shaky. He smiles, looking up at you with sweet gentle eyes that are so unlike him and once again bring in the idea of a motive to your mind, “your mothers gonna kill you for that glass, by the way.”

Everything else after the boat docked had become a blur. You had some mild burns but your now ruined dress had protected most of the flames before they were put out, so most of the marks were faint angry red shades on your back that would likely fade over time if you kept it well treated and applied an ointment to avoid scarring. You’d been grateful that it hadn’t been worse but the state you were in didn’t quite feel better.

Your hand wasn’t broken, but one of the gashes had been pretty bad unbeknownst to you and it had needed five stitches, everything being wrapped up in a bandage as you were told to rest a couple of days.

You’d wanted to rest, but the following morning, your mother had other ideas.

“Juyeon tells me you had an accide- my god, what happened to your hair?”

“I burned it off,” came your response, feeling your blanket being ripped away from you, your bare legs being met with the cold air as you tried to adjust your shirt.

“Why in heaven's name would you ever do that?” God, you could laugh. She clearly didn’t know you, if she ever thought you’d do such a stupid thing intentionally.

“I’ll get it sorted,” though you’d made no attempt at making an appointment. As long as the outside world didn’t see you, you could be as ugly as you wanted.

“You, young lady, are headed to class,” she slaps the bottom of your leg before running over to your beloved curtains, tearing them open and letting the offensive light blind you, “you’ve missed far too much already.”

“I’d rather die than go looking like this,” you mutter, earning you another slap to your skin that makes you sit up sharply and glare at her with such discontent, she must know that you hate her.

“Should’ve made an appointment in the morning then. You can fix it later, but you’re going, now.”

There was no point in arguing. Even with a valid doctor's note, it was pointless. She’d make you go to uni and whatever you said would be entirely without point because it wasn’t valid. It didn’t matter. The best you could do was attempt to look presentable despite your singed hair and then run to your family's go to salon for help right after.

You made sure to wear something revealing. Something hopefully distracting enough so that the hair you’d tied up in a bun, wouldn’t be very noticeable. You actually thought you managed to hide it with fair success, but you had to pull out nearly every trick you knew about a tight ballerina bun to hide most of the damage. The biggest issue was the damaged strands being so short in length sometimes, that they kept falling back out and refusing to lay the way you wanted them to.

Your mother had already left the house by the time you were ready, in a tight mini skirt and a shirt kept together by string in the middle, showing plenty of skin all the way down to your pierced navel. It was just enough to grab attention away from everything else that needed fixing.

Getting to class made you realise just how much people talk. As if the vitriol from Juyeon humiliating you with Changmin’s name hadn’t been bad enough, now everyone seemed to know about your burns and the bandage on your hand didn’t help either. You’d overheard someone say that they thought you’d gone off the rails, making you shove your shoulder against theirs so that they fell off balance.

But that girl hadn’t been the only one to say it. It felt like everyone was looking at you again, like this was high school and your dirty little secrets were all exposed to be mocked and tormented until you well and truly became the off the rails mess that they already claimed for you to be. The looks were horrific, but the fake sympathy in trying to speak to you was worse.

Though you’d truly wanted to lose it when you overheard the sympathy Eric was getting. How sorry he’d been and how it had been such a horrible accident. How bad he felt, that you’d rejected his apology and been so cruel to him. That you were truly a horrible person. Even if it might’ve been true that Eric felt bad, he had hurt you, and yet no one spared any real empathy for you. No one cared.

You had one more class for the day but a long gap in between where you’d need to find something to do, and so you settled on the park nearby with a small lunch and a coffee, having a sip before you reached for the tobacco in your bag.

You still wouldn’t call yourself a smoker, but you could use one now and it was still practice and improvement from the absolute travesty you had rolled before. Besides, you found it peaceful, to sit there and roll a cigarette to then smoke or save for later.

“It’s getting better,” you look up and see Changmin already with a cigarette between his lips, placing it between his fingers to move it down and away from his mouth as he exhales. He’s dressed warm, in a dark sweater and jeans with a coat over both, his eyes staring at your own as he takes you in, “you want help?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“I didn’t ask if you needed it. I asked if you wanted it,” you were struggling and he could tell. Your hand still hurt from injuring it and it made rolling even more awkward, so eventually you relented and just shoved the bag of tobacco out for him to take. He sighs and sits next to you, turning his body a bit towards you as he discards his own cigarette entirely in favour of starting over.

“Why’d you waste it?”

“Well, I figured if I offered it to you, you’d refuse it,” he was right, “I’ll roll two.”

Normally you’d be tempted to argue and fight with him using your stuff, but you have no energy and he was kind enough to share with you last time. You watch him, the way his fingers work together to roll the first cigarette, and you can’t say you’re not entranced because you are. The way he does it makes it all seem so easy.

He seals the first cigarette with his tongue before placing it behind his ear, and you swear for the first time you saw a hint of jewellery, “do you have a piercing?”

“I have more than one,” he gets to work on the next one, looking over at you briefly as you try not to stare too obviously. You’d seen the ones on his ear but the one on his tongue had been new to you.

“I never noticed.”

“We don’t really talk,” he hands you your cigarette and you nod in thanks, twisting it between your fingers once to inspect it before placing it between your lips. You end up fiddling with your lighter, huffing in frustration each time it refuses to light. The wind worked against you and it seemed low on lighter fluid already, but still you persisted.

“Here,” his cigarette is lit, and he places the burning side against yours, “just inhale.”

You listen to him and the flames transfer to your cigarette when you do, thanking him again, though you’re not sure why he didn’t just offer you his lighter instead, “I had it.”

“Sure,” you both fall silent again and you must admit it’s getting a little bit annoying to have nothing to really talk about. It seems so pointless, like it holds no real purpose and yet there’s a comfort in just being sat here and clearing your head.

“What did you do with your hand?”

“You’re telling me you haven’t heard?” you don’t believe it. Changmin might not socialise but he does hear about things. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been so wrapped up in the last one. Or maybe that one only reached him because it directly involved him.

“Isn’t it better to hear the truth from you?” he surprises you again. You hadn’t really thought of it that way. In your eyes, people were always quick to believe what they were told from others whether or not it was the truth. Especially from those whose words held more weight simply because of who they were. And if someone like Younghoon, who you suspected, was running around telling people you were insane, they were bound to believe it without fact checking his claims at all.

“I broke a mirror,” he laughs, as if it’s amusing to hear about your screw up and you wonder if it would be worth hitting him again.

“You really are something else, even for a rich person,” you want to know if that surprises him. If he’s as confused by you as you are by him and his strange behaviour. He seems to bite back less in sarcasm today, but he still speaks like he’s unimpressed, unphased by your violent outburst and rather finding it amusing.

You stare at him for a long time, taking in his side profile up close. The way his glasses frame his face, how his dimples aren’t as deep but still there because he’s trying to bite back his amusement in a smile that you find pretty, even if you won’t say it. He takes another drag of his cigarette, then turns his attention back to you, though it quickly falls from your face to your hair as he gestures to it, “and this? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with your hair up.”

“You pay attention to things like that?”

“Unintentionally, yes.”

“But you don’t notice it’s burnt?”

“Oh, no, I noticed it,” of course he did. He was probably waiting for the opportunity to tug your hairpins out so he could see the disaster that is your hair. It probably didn’t matter, really, if he saw it, but you liked the belief that you could remain beautiful, at least in someone's eyes, regardless of who they were.

Then again, Changmin might not find you pretty at all.

“I wasn’t meant to come today but my mother told me to. I haven’t been able to fix it,” you’re not sure why you’re honest, especially to him, but he doesn’t really say anything at first while he continues smoking, “I don’t know why I’m even telling you this.”

“Neither do I,” god, what an asshole. He simply couldn’t keep his mouth shut and accept it, “is it true a freshmen burned it off?”

“So you did hear about it?”

“I saw him getting coddled in the hallway. I think a girl brought him flowers,” of course she did. He gets flowers and you get to drop a couple of hundred at the hairdresser to salvage what’s left. You’re not even sure you want to go at all and be faced with the vitriol.

“I really don’t need our family hairdresser to tell the whole community about my hair being charcoal black because of a drunk night out.”

“You have a family hairdresser?” it’s like it’s the most absurd thing you’ve said, stranger than your hair being burnt by an open flame, or the fact that you smashed a mirror and your mother dragged you out anyway, or the countless other things, actually, that you’d said and he hadn’t really cared to comment on.

“You focus on the wrong things.”

“And all you focus on is superficial at best,” you wonder what he considers the worst, “so you’re not going to get it fixed?”

No, you are going to get it fixed. That’s what you want to tell him, that of course you’re going to drag your ass there right after your final lesson is over. That it’ll be perfect again tomorrow and you will be perfect and you can forget all about it. Maybe you can even forgive Eric if you’re feeling extra generous, although you don’t think you will be.

“I will. I just… have to find another hairdresser. I don’t really know how to do that.”

“Google it?” you grimace, eyeing him strangely yet he looks at you like you have three heads. Like something is seriously wrong with you and you wonder if he’s right or if he just has no concept of the real world.

“I don’t want them to say something.”

“I doubt they care,” Changmin offends you, but he says it nonchalantly and casually as he puts out his cigarette and discards the filtered end, “let me do it.”

“I’d rather die than let you touch me,” it’s a quick answer, snapping back at him with determination because you really would rather sign an early death than let him any closer than he already is just sitting here next to you.

“But I don’t care about how ridiculous you might look,” so he admits you probably look insane. You know better than to believe that he wouldn’t laugh at you, yet you also wonder if maybe that was better than it being spoken around your closed community and bringing embarrassment to your parents for your drunk failings. They didn’t care what you did if it didn’t affect them, yet this might and therefore it became a bigger problem.

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

“How hard can it be?”

“Absolutely not,” you think that’s the end of it, but you hadn’t known Changmin to be so determined with something such as this, for he seems persistent in making a case for himself as he turns to you fully.

“I think you should think about it.”

“You could make it worse. You have no idea what you’re doing and you hate me too,” he doesn’t disagree with it, though he does seem to think. Perhaps another way of making his case though you really don’t know what could convince you when you had money at your fingertips to even fly halfway across the globe for someone to fix it for you.

Which, actually, might’ve not been a bad idea. No one would know you abroad.

“I wouldn’t cut it any more than where the strands are burnt.”

“No.”

“Fine, at least let me see it.”

“Absolutely not,” he huffs like a child, watching the clouds pass while the sky dims to a depressing grey, indicating rainfall. You don’t need to be laughed at, especially by someone lesser than you.

“I have to go,” you want to ask him how his date went. You remember it now that he goes to leave. Yet you also know not to ask him. The last thing you wanted was his assumption that you might be interested in him, “you can think about it.”

“I don’t think I will.”

“Suit yourself, little doll,” he leaves you alone and you simply stay sat with a frown on your face until the raindrops start falling and you’re forced to go inside.

They had all been right. You’d lost your mind, completely, because the hairdresser you had found completely destroyed your ends even more and you refused to let yourself be seen by anyone until it was fixed. Like a dog with his tail between his legs, you drove to university without the intent of actually going to class, but rather waited like a stalker for Changmin to appear at some point, because he had to, right?

It took far longer than you’d hoped, because the first time he had appeared, there were far too many people around for you to give in to his suggestion of doing it himself, but turns out paying for it to have it done professionally hadn’t done much of a difference and had been far from worth it.

The second time he came out, he had his nose in a book and was barely watching where he was going, and you figured it would be the perfect time to step out and talk to him. You’d still dressed up, albeit not as much as you usually might to avoid detection, when you approach him and stand right before him.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his head not moving up to look at you as he keeps walking. You felt ridiculous chasing him, but you grabbed his shoulder and stopped him in his steps, finally looking up to face you, “oh, it’s you.”

“What do you mean, oh?”

“Exactly what it sounds like. What the fuck happened to your hair?” Changmin asks, seeing that you kept it out but hidden under the hood of your jacket, and he could still see the damaged parts as you’d eventually gotten up mid hair appointment to leave before she could finish and do any worse.

“Someone fucked it up, obviously. Are you stupid?”

“No, but your insults when you want something from me are a poor choice,” you cross your arms, standing straighter to look down on him, heels just tall enough to do so while he adjusts and closes his book, “so, what is it?”

“I… need your help,” fuck, that pains you. It really kicks your ego and confidence to have to ask something of him. Well, not that you had to, but you were refusing the family hairdresser even more now and if Changmin fucked up too, at least his services were free.

“You want my help?”

“You offered it,” you bite back, but he doesn’t seem pleased. If he was taking his offer back, you felt like he should just say so, but instead he was smiling as he lit a cigarette.

“That I did,” he was so cocky, it reminded you of Juyeon, “I guess I could give it a try.”

“You said you would.”

“I said I can do it if you’d like me to try.”

“And I’m telling you to.”

“But you should be asking me.”

“Changmin, you think I haven’t been through enough embarrassing shit because of you? You owe me this fucking favour before I break your neck with my heel.”

He stops entirely, eyeing you up and down briefly before he finally settles on your eyes again. It’s a little intimidating to have him stare at you so intently, but you refuse to show discomfort and stand your ground. He fucking owed you this and you knew that he did. He did owe it to you, at the very least for the rumour involving you and Juyeon.

“Okay, sure. But I’m driving.”

He discards his cigarette and holds out his hand for the key, and you really think he’s joking before he gives you another look telling you to hurry up.

“Are you serious?”

“Think of it as payment,” it’s crazy to you but you ultimately agree. Curse you for not using your driver for one day, but why should you when you weren’t even planning to attend classes. It just left another witness to tell your parents that you had been faltering in the one thing they expected you to do well on.

“I hate you,” his hands hold the key to your Mercedes and he seems content, and you watch as he steps up inside your car so carelessly that it makes you nearly cry out to tell him off.

When you get in, he leans over and places his bag down by your feet and you note that same cologne that had sat on his hoodie that you took so long ago. A creature of habit, whereas you went through various perfumes depending on the type of outfit you were wearing.

“Can you be more careful? The interior is custom.”

“Of course it is,” he adjusts the seat and you realise what a bad idea this really was because everything he changes now, you’ll have to change back, but it was too late. He settled and reversed the car far faster than you would’ve liked, barely looking in his rearview mirror to see if he’d hit someone.

“Do you even know how to drive?”

“It’s an automatic. Even an idiot can drive one. Exhibit A,” he looks at you and you ignore it by looking ahead before he abruptly hits the breaks because someone crosses the parking lot completely unexpectedly, “god, some people just want to die.”

“Do you even have a licence?”

The silence confirms your expected fear and you cannot believe you just put your life in his hands. You wish you could hit the brakes, but he’s turned into the main road and now you’re wondering if you’ve well and truly lost your mind. You can practically hear Chanhee’s voice berating you for the insanity that you’re currently in.

“Where am I going, by the way?”

“I guess my house,” he sighs, and your hand instinctively falls to the wheel to pull him more to the right to avoid the left lane.

“Yeah, and where is that?”

“Oh, right. I’ll write it in the nav,” he scoffs like it’s absurd, but you’re not really in the mood to give instructions and honestly you didn’t think you’d be very good at it. You knew the way well and your mind would naturally think where to turn without saying it outloud.

“You’re driving too fast,” at this point you’d fully accepted your potential demise, because making him pull over seemed like an almost worse idea at this point.

“I thought it was sixty.”

“It’s fifty,” you answer him, and at least he listens and slows down, maybe because being caught meant you’d both be in horrific trouble.

There’s no music and the silence in such close proximity isn’t exactly your idea of fun, but it’s becoming a little more familiar than you’d like to be like this with Changmin. It wasn’t that you liked him or enjoyed his company, but the way you both sat together without speaking had become a little common, at least enough that you found it to be okay.

“This cannot be real,” he mumbles, the gates to your community closed before you hand him the keycard. He looks at it like it’s alien, but he opens the window and reaches for the keypad to open the gate, “I actually hate rich people.”

He doesn’t sound genuine, more baffled if anything as he drives in and over to your house. His eyes just widen more as he parks outside the front steps leading to the massive entrance door, but you’re more relieved that you survived driving as a passenger with someone that had no right to even take you anywhere with a car, “I was gonna say park in the garage but I suppose you can leave it.”

“I think I’m good, yeah.”

You step out with him, taking the key back as soon as he lets it dangle between his fingers for you to take, and you walk in with him and greet one of your cleaners that seems more than a little surprised to see you with someone. Normally you might make an attempt to hide who you were with, but she was nice and didn’t speak often, especially to your parents unless it was work related, so you knew her to not be the type to say something.

You really hoped, anyway, or you were definitely fucked.

“Do you have scissors for cutting hair?”

“I think we do somewhere. I’ll ask someone,” though Changmin doesn’t seem to be listening, because his eyes are cast elsewhere and you notice your little ragdoll perched on the railing and looking at him with curious eyes.

“Oh, look at this little cutie,” he approaches her carefully, holding his hand out gently but she seems more than a little excited, which you find unusual, though maybe she sensed his compliment to stroke her little ego.

“Thought you didn’t like cats?”

“How can I not when I see this little dear, hmm?”

She purrs in response, pushing her head up into his palm as he scratches her ear, and you nearly roll your eyes at seeing her unusual affection. She liked Chanhee, sure, but even that had taken some time, but with Changmin she’s practically on his lap within the first minute.

“Do you have any treats for her?”

“Sure, they’re in my room. Or the kitchen.”

He follows after you, the little lady prancing after him like she’s straight out of the aristocats, elegant in how she moves and so confident in her step. Lady really is a diva.

“They’re on the desk,” you gesture over to the corner and Changmin moves over to find them, but he’s slow and looking around like he’s taking it all in. It leaves you a little vulnerable, only because the way you’ve decorated is a look inside who you are, feminine and expensive, with simple colours and beautiful plants and endless books that are overflowing on your shelf.

“I didn’t know you read.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you’re a pain in my ass. Here you go, darling,” he crouches down, holding out a treat for your cat while you open a window. She seems pleased, tapping his hand for more with her little paw and even you admit it’s a cute display of affection from her.

“I’ll look for the scissors.”

Changmin doesn’t answer, busy being loved by a cat and so you leave them both while on the hunt for some scissors. In the end, you ask one of the cleaners if he’d seen any around while finishing up your parents’ bathroom and to your surprise the search is successful when you go through one of the drawers.

You pass the kitchen and grab a bottle of water from the fridge, one for Changmin too because you hadn’t asked and you were not prepared to walk back downstairs again in case he wanted some. That, and you brought a packet of gummy bears, not for you but him, and then came back upstairs to see Changmin still on the floor waving a string with a little tiger on the end that Lady was chasing relentlessly.

“I found them,” he looks up at you and she takes the opportunity to pounce on the toy, dragging it between her claws as he tries to push against her, “I also have water.”

“Voss?”

“Yeah?”

“Isn’t that overpriced tap water?”

“Tap water tastes like blood. This is citrusy,” you hold it out to him, and he takes it despite his apprehension.

“Put a lemon in it,” he says, before adding, “and why do you know what blood tastes like?”

“Why do you not?”

He gets up while you rummage around your room, moving your chair right in front of your mirror to give you a view of what he’s doing, “I might need wine, on second thought.”

“I’m not going to ruin your hair any more than it already is,” at least he acknowledges the horrific state it was in, but you knew that, “did the hairdresser cut it that weirdly?”

“I didn’t let her finish. Look at this,” you show him one of the butchered strands and even Changmin looks more than a little shocked that a professional had done such a horrific job.

“I’ll have to cut quite a lot. You realise that, right?”

You did. Of course you knew your once beautiful long hair would be no longer than right by your shoulder and that fucking shattered your heart and confidence, but you could not keep it like this either and magically having longer hair again wasn’t happening without a wig or extensions.

“I won’t cut before you tell me it’s fine but a lot of it is still burnt up to about… here,” he gestures to your collarbone, though he’s careful not to touch you. Maybe he knows you won’t like it and he’s right, you wouldn’t like it, but you were surprised by his way of keeping boundaries.

“If you manage to do this well I’ll buy your groceries for a week,” Changmin perks up, like he hadn’t expected it but they were words he was happy to hear. Almost like he needed it.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” and now your mind wandered again, because he’d insisted he had at least some money and yet he made it sound like he was struggling just to buy some food. Though you try not to dwell on it as you grab your hairbrush to gently get the knots out of your hair.

“I really don’t want you to cut more than you need to.”

“I already told you I won't,” he’s getting frustrated, you can tell, but you want to make sure he gets it. If he didn’t listen to you, it would be so much worse and you’d be absolutely destroyed, and Changmin likely wouldn’t care because it didn’t affect him.

“Okay, so I have a plan,” he says, and even those words cause you worry but you’re willing to hear him out before you both commit, “I’ll just cut all the long hair that’s left up until slightly above your chest and then I’ll actually be neater and more precise with what’s left to work with that’ll get rid of all the burnt hair.”

Not a terrible plan, actually. It’s not like he’d have to be neat cutting up to a certain point if it wasn’t going to stay. It would be a waste of both your time if he did it that way, “okay, we’ll try that.”

“Do you want any music?” Changmin asks you, your cat jumping up onto the bed to perch herself on the edge and watch the way you both move and speak. You wonder if she can tell you both dislike each other, or if she thinks maybe that’s a friend. It makes you curious to know how cats think, but that was a whole other thought process that you were honestly too sober to consider really having.

“I can turn some on,” you connect your phone to your speakers, pressing the shuffle button and leaving it on one of the coffee tables you had next to the mirror full of perfumes and some accessories.

You take a seat and place a towel that you’d gotten around your back and a little towards the front of your body, adjusting your back so it’s straight as Changmin stands behind you. You watch him in the mirror, the way he studies your hair and seems to be contemplating on how to best approach it. It makes you nervous, and once again you’re wondering when you became this insane.

“Okay, I’ll just start cutting.”

“Okay.”

You both fall silent, though you’re left still staring at him in the way you both reflect before you amongst a few polaroids stuck on your mirror. Your heart picks up when you feel his fingers brush the back of your neck as he takes some of your hair between his fingers, but you push it away and try to focus on something else. Anything else.

The first strands of hair fall and you feel like crying. You see the way they end up on the floor, how they lay there and you feel terrible. It feels like you’re ripping away a big piece of yourself and you didn’t wish for it to ever happen.

“I can’t believe Eric did this to me.”

“Wasn’t it an accident?”

“I don’t care,” you snarl, crossing your arms and watching him cut away more and more pieces. For a second you wonder if he’s cut too much but he seems to know how to read your mind because he brings what’s left of it to the front of your body so that you can see its length, most of it the promised length he’d agreed on with you aside from the bit of hair that was already ruined or made shorter before he ever got to it.

“If it helps, I think short hair might suit you,” might. Not that it would, that it might, and that really doesn’t sit well with you, because what if it doesn’t?

“Short hair isn’t pretty on women,” you tell him, but he looks entirely perplexed at your statement, as if he finds it to be absurd.

“According to who? You?”

“Everyone,” a lot of men, mostly, and some women. Juyeon didn’t like it either, you knew that. He’d told you once when one of your female acquaintances had cut her hair and he looked at her like she’d grown two heads.

“I think some women look better with short hair,” he tells you but you don’t really buy it. Then again, you don’t really know Changmin’s type, and once again you’re reminded of his date. Maybe you could ask now, right?

“Did your date have short hair?”

Subtle. You could laugh at yourself, laugh at how pathetic you’d become and how Changmin was often the reason for your downfall. Of course he was, and you cursed yourself for ever agreeing to kick him out of that forsaken party months ago.

“She did not, no. Unless you consider a little over the shoulder short.”

“I do,” he sighs again and maybe you want to smile because honestly, it is a little funny at this point, how quick he is to be annoyed and how quick you are to be the same, “did it go well?”

“Do you really want to know about my dating life?”

“I’m just trying to make conversation,” you lie, because honestly you were really curious to know. You wanted to know what she looked like, if she was beautiful, more so than you.

“It was fine. Didn’t really have much chemistry,” he tells you, adjusting his glasses briefly as he dusts off some of your cut hair from your back.

“You mean like sexually?”

“What? No. I mean in general. Chemistry isn’t just sex,” to you, it was most of it. At least you believed it to be. Good chemistry came from desire and lust, which is why you and Juyeon had worked so great when you were in love. You wanted to answer, maybe even defend yourself where he didn’t know you had to, but instead you kept your mouth shut, “I’m going to cut more now.”

“A lot?”

“I think if I play my cards right, it’ll just about be touching your shoulder,” he answers you and you agree, sighing as you adjust the way you sit again and watch him in the mirror.

You watched the way he concentrated, how he bit his lower lip and occasionally adjusted his glasses if he leaned forward too much. He seemed so intent on doing well that it calmed you just a little. At least he would try, you assumed, and all you’d have to do in return was get his groceries.

You were both silent for a long time, simply watching his hands move between strands of hair, trying not to tug too much or break off more hair with what was burnt. The music wasn’t overbearingly loud, and your cat was soft asleep now, sprawled out comfortably in your duvet. It was all very peaceful, strangely so.

You came to realise even more in such silence that Changmin really was just so pretty.

“You’re staring at me,” he tells you, not once making eye contact with you and yet he’d caught you.

“What am I meant to look at?”

“I was only telling you.”

“Does it bother you?”

He stops, meeting your eyes in the mirror and suddenly you look away, “no, I don’t really care.”

You both fall silent again and you watch as he fixes the broken ends and frowns when it doesn’t seem to be going how he wants it to. Seeing him concentrate is a little amusing, because his nose occasionally scrunches and he lets out a little breath of air in annoyance when it just doesn’t work.

“Did you ruin it?”

“Do you really want the truth?”

“Changmin, what the fuck did you do?”

He laughs, and it sounds so happy and amused you turn around and hit his arm, making him jump back and hunch over even more to clutch his stomach while he chuckles. You want to know what the hell is so funny when he’s potentially done worse to you, but he doesn’t say a single word.

“Changmin!”

“It’s nothing. I just find your lack of faith in me hilarious,” your arms cross and some of your hair falls to your face, but to your surprise it seems shockingly neat.

“I was just going to say that I was right. Short hair suits you,” you heart lurches forward again and you’re stunned on what to say. It’s clear to you that it’s a compliment and maybe an attempt at making you feel far better, but all it manages to do at first is make you feel more vulnerable. He’s the first to see you like this and he’s not turning away from it or insulting you the way you would’ve insulted yourself. He’s kinder to yourself at this moment than you would ever be, and it doesn’t even feel forced.

You don’t know what to say.

“You don’t need to say that. We’re not friends,” he looks exasperated, like he’s near given up on ever being kind to you and you hope he truly stops trying. You don’t want to be friends, and while you’ll admit he’s not been as bad as you might’ve initially presumed, you would never want to speak of this after.

“I think it’s nearly done.”

“Are you sure?” Changmin looks at you through the mirror, his eyes finding yours so quickly it makes you stop and stare back at him with strange interest.

“Mhmm, where’s your hairbrush?” you hand it to him and he thanks you, brushing through the strands with a gentle touch you’ve never even given yourself. He’s so careful, like he truly doesn’t want to hurt you, and you’re not really sure when that became important to you but it makes you smile, “I think I should change majors.”

You know he’s teasing though his confidence leaves you curious. From what you can see, it isn’t terrible, but you have yet to see the full result and it’s scary to realise that your hair no longer reaches very far. You’re not even sure how the hell you’re going to style it when you have to have it up, or want to. In the end, maybe you would need extensions.

“Do you have any hair oil?”

“I can’t believe you know what that is,” you get up, intentionally ignoring the mirror to stare back as you move to your bathroom, rummaging through one of the drawers before you find the serum you’re looking for, bringing it over to him, “here.”

He nods, standing in front of you and you don’t make an attempt to move. You let him reach for your hair behind your ear, bringing it forward between his delicate fingers with the oil you’d brought him, bringing it to your short ends and you simply let him. He’s never been this close to you, you don’t think, but it surprises you how it doesn’t make you grimace and want to turn away. Changmin’s in your space, but he isn’t invasive with it either, so very careful with his movements like he’s wondering when you’ll actually shrink away.

“Done,” okay, fuck, now you’d have to look. It would either make you want to curl in on yourself or you’d be content to deal with it, even if you hated the short hair either way. You were already prepared to not like it, but you turn around and it hits you again.

“I hate it,” Changmin’s face briefly falls, maybe with worry or just genuine upset because it sounds like an insult towards him. It’s the very first time where your heart sinks because you feel bad for making him believe he’d done something horrific when he’d helped you. He looks so genuinely pained, almost like he’s afraid that you’ll turn violent for what he’d done, and how truly sorry he looks makes you feel awful.

“I’m sorry,” you shake your head, turning back to him so you can avoid the mirror, and you make an effort to look into his dark brown eyes framed by his glasses, the softness in them not going unnoticed by you. The way he looks like he’s ready to walk out with a knife in his back.

“No, I just… I hate having my hair short,” you attempt, awkwardly reaching for his arm in an attempt to make it better, but it’s awkward for you both and so you remove your touch and look back at him instead, “I think you did great, Changmin.”

“You can be honest.”

“I am. I think it’s really neat,” which was true. He’d cut it precise and straight just along your shoulder and nothing seemed out of place. It was hard to believe he’d never done this before.

“I should get going,” there’s a voice in the back of your mind offering him to stay a little longer, but your mother could be home at any point and you knew very well that she wouldn’t like Changmin at all, even if he’d done you a favour.

“Wait…” he stops, his jacket just pulled over one of his sleeves as he looks at you, “what about your groceries?”

“Forget it, it’s fine,” he’s upset. Something is on his mind and you want to know what it is. You don’t really believe him to be the type to be so hung up on one of your insults. He’d never been before, and some had been far worse than this, and yet he’d never been so quiet towards you.

“No, I think I should,” you reach for your purse and while you can tell he wants to leave, he doesn’t walk out. He waits for you to gather your things and then stares at you.

“I really don’t need your charity.”

“It’s not charity. You cut my hair,” he looks like he wants to agree with you. Like he knows that he did and yet he doesn’t really want to acknowledge it.

“Fine.”

It was already late in the evening when you got to the store, not realising how time had slipped away from you both while you were at home. You’d thought Changmin had been quick, but reality had been different and time had simply flown away from you.

“This place is expensive.”

“Is it?” you shrug, never having thought of it as you step out of the car, waiting for him to follow suit though he hesitates for far longer before he finally comes out of the car, approaching you with apprehension, “does it matter? You’re not paying for it.”

Changmin huffs, nails digging into his knuckles while he stares ahead at the store in front of you. You weren’t ready to admit to him that you hadn’t done groceries in years because it was always done for you, and you were not going to admit that the corner store when you were missing some snacks was as far as shopping for food went for you.

“I don’t need you to spend money on me.”

“I doubt I’ll notice it’s gone,” he scoffs, clearly unimpressed as he walks with you. You don’t like it, because it feels like he’s looking down at you again, like you’re lesser than him when that has never been the case. You don’t understand the issue or why it should even concern him if you’re spending your allowance on him, but for some reason it does.

“You realise the problem with that, right?”

“What problem?”

His kind eyes are gone, replaced with the ones you know far better. The eyes that judge you, that see you as frustrating and annoying, the ones that hate you and think you’re unimportant. You hate that gaze, the way he looks at you, and yet it doesn’t go away, nor does it fade in intensity, even while you watch him grab a shopping cart and step inside because you simply refuse to do it yourself.

“What would you like?”

“I haven’t really thought about it,” he starts, clearly in thought before he adds, “I need cat food.”

It catches you off guard. Changmin feels selfless, in that regard. How his first thought for what he needs isn’t for him at all but rather his pet. It makes you look at him differently, even just for a moment.

“That’s at the back.”

He follows you, completely silent and now it feels awkward again. It’s almost amazing how quickly you both revert back to this.

“What does he eat?”

“He likes tuna,” he reaches for something, a packaged box of cat food with an assortment of different flavours and you grimace.

“Is that good for him?”

“It’s all I can afford,” he snaps back, putting it in the cart but you don’t seem pleased. If he had a cat, he should at least put in the effort to feed him well. You’d never understand pet owners who practically fed Mcdonald’s to them in jelly form.

“I’m paying for it.”

“And I’m not changing his diet for a week or two just because it’s not on my dime,” well, you lost that argument, albeit begrudgingly because you didn’t agree with it.

“Can I at least choose some treats for him?”

“Do whatever you want, princess,” you freeze up, briefly reminded of Juyeon and his voice and the way he calls you princess. How that’s his thing to do, not Changmin’s, nor anyone else’s. You didn’t want anyone else to call you that, yet you were so frozen in place by surprise that you couldn’t tell him to stop. Instead, you fall silent and pick something out for him that you hope he’ll like, placing it in the cart before you follow Changmin to another aisle.

You don’t speak to him for a while, and it’s so awkward to watch him find random things, and even worse when he finds something only to put it back because the price makes him do a double take. And each time you make an attempt to offer to get it anyway or tell him it really doesn’t make a difference to you, he gives you a look of such discontent, like he wants you to keep your mouth shut and it surprises even you that you do.

You were stubborn and weren’t one to back down, and yet you would find it so embarrassing if an argument ensued between you both in public. It was bad enough that you were both together with the potential risk of someone you knew seeing it, but even worse if you brought on that attention through your disagreements when you could’ve avoided it.

“I think I’m done,” you look down at all the items and frown, wondering how the hell that’s meant to last a week. It makes you think again, if he really could make this last for a while or maybe he just really didn’t want to live off your dime and you’re not so sure what bothered you more.

“Do you not eat?”

“Coming from you?”

Another insult and it leaves you angry, but you also wonder if he’d noticed. If he had, you wondered how. If he was simply attentive or watching you constantly when you weren’t looking like some creep, “I eat.”

“I’d hope so,” you want this evening to be over. It would be nice to go home and curl up in your bed, to maybe call Chanhee and hear your best friend’s voice, to maybe text Juyeon to get a goodnight that was kind and sweet, to maybe ask Hyunjae if he was planning a party any time soon so that you’d have something new to look forward to and redeem yourself and your reputation.

“There’s nothing else you want?”

“Nope,” you look down at all he’d chosen again and it just doesn’t sit right with you, but you don’t say anything else. It’s none of your business, how he chooses to consume his meals or what his motive or intentions are in not taking advantage of you buying everything for him, but it feels like an insult to you and your money that he’s not using it properly.

It also bothers you, how he’d seemed enthused earlier at the prospect of you getting groceries for him, how he’d even laughed while doing your hair and how when he'd smiled it even reached his eyes, only to stand here with him now and see the way his eyes seem lifeless, how his smile has faded and he seems so miserable and over being around you.

“Fine,” is your answer, cold just like him as you both go to the check out, paying for all his things whilst he packs them up. You’re both so silent, the woman scanning all his items gives you both a look, as if she knows you’re both fighting and can feel the tension between you both.

You don’t end up spending much at all, far less than you’d expected, and yet when you try to pay, Changmin steps up to you, “I’ll just get it.”

“No, I want to get it,” you push him away from you, but he surprises you in his strength and resistance, barely moving an inch while you try to tap your watch against the card machine.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I said I would!” you snap and he finally stops fighting you, maybe in his shock because you’ve raised your voice publicly, but you manage to pay and the woman gives him a sympathetic look with kind eyes as if to tell him she’s sorry for your behaviour.

It’s silent as you both go to the car but you can feel his anger radiate off him. You already know he might snap, the question is what his anger will look like. You’re not afraid of it or Changmin, because while you don’t know him well, you don’t believe he’d hurt you in frustration. But you do wonder what he’ll say, if anything at all.

You try to ignore him by drowning it all out with music, occasionally glancing over at him though he’s on his phone not paying attention to you. It was like having a random strange man in your car, one that wouldn’t take any time to get to know who he was even with, but you supposed that was better than the alternative.

“I don’t know your address,” you tell him eventually, realising you were just heading back to your place when you should very likely be going a whole other direction.

“Drop me anywhere. I’ll take the bus.”

“I’m already driving,” he sighs, but he doesn’t fight you either, reaching over to the touch screen in the centre of your car to find the navigational system so that he can type in his address. You knew the area by name, though you’d never done more than pass it by. When you were younger, your parents had insisted on avoiding places such as the one you were now going to, for it was full of criminal activity and rather dangerous at night. At least so they said.

“Thank you for helping me,” it takes a lot for you to say it, so you hope at the very least he’ll realise how difficult it is for you and to appreciate that you managed to say it anyway. He doesn’t react at first, looking outside into the dark, up at the city lights and the way everything reflects, but eventually he pays attention to you again when the trees get boring and a droplet of rain falls onto the window.

“It’s nothing.”

“Yeah but… you didn’t laugh at me.”

“There was nothing to laugh at,” he made things difficult. It was hard to speak to him, sometimes moreso, because he just seemed so indifferent when you didn’t want him to be. You also knew him to be different, just sometimes, because you’d had little glimpses of it, and you wondered where they went when he stopped smiling.

“Juyeon would’ve found it hilarious.”

“I’m not Juyeon,” he interrupts angrily, this time turning his head to look at you properly and it distracts you. You were near certain though you’d gotten no real confirmation that they didn’t like each other at all, and yet his instant protest made it far more evident than you’d presumed it to be.

“You make him sound like a bad person.”

“If he would’ve laughed at you, then isn’t he?”

No. You want to say no. Juyeon was flawed but not bad. He was always so kind to you, until the moments in which he wasn’t but you knew how to ignore those for the good things you got. But then you wondered why you’d broken up at all if he was what you wanted. It was hurting your head to think about it, to think about Juyeon was always so complicated and painful, yet here you were again wondering if you could ever have him back.

“He’s not that bad.”

“Right,” you’re not sure why you wanted him to fight with you. To tell you you’re wrong, that Juyeon was fucking terrible and destroyed every little bit of confidence within you so that he could mold it back together into the perceived beauty that he wanted. Until you were created to be only his.

You’re not sure why you want Changmin to say it, because you know you’ll resist him anyway.

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t, really. I just don’t get it. I’ll never understand wanting to be hurt by someone you think should love you,” you fall silent first. You want to defend Juyeon but you’re not sure how to do it without sounding pathetic.

“He does love me,” Changmin doesn’t say anything else. He rolls down your car window and lights a cigarette without even asking if he can though you say nothing about it. Maybe you might normally, but you stop yourself this time because your thoughts are muddled and you’re not sure you can even really think.

“It’s just here,” he breaks you out of your thoughts and you park just a bit down the road where there’s space, watching him get out of the car but you stay put at first. You feel a little numb, frozen even, though when he opens the trunk of the car, you finally snap out of it and follow after him.

“You don’t need to help me,” you don’t listen to him, grabbing one of the bags before shutting the back of your car and looking at him expectantly, “you’re not coming inside.”

“Fine.”

You’re a little disappointed. Mostly because your curiosity has grown and you really want to meet his stray cat, but Changmin seems determined to keep you away from the little furball, “next time then.”

He seems as surprised as you by your words, although deep down you think you both know they’re not meant. You likely won’t ever be here again, and so the final steps to the front door of the apartment complex is all you’ll ever get a glimpse of into his life. You wonder how he lives, what it looks like, if it’s neat or cluttered, dark or bright.

You wonder if his interior reveals his interests and hobbies, or if it’s monotone and hard to decipher. You realise you wonder so much in this moment, about Changmin and who he is, what he’s really like away from what you see. But maybe what’s inside is too vulnerable for him to reveal, that he keeps it to himself because it feels safer.

You wonder even if just for a moment, what it would be like to get to know him beyond you both standing here in the light rain.

“Well, thank you for the groceries,” you hold the last bag out to him for him to take and he does, leaving you to stand there with no real purpose other than to look at him.

“Yeah… of course,” you don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve forgotten how to formulate a sentence and it feels suffocating to stand here with him. You really want to leave, though not because you detest Changmin in the way you might sometimes believe, but rather because it feels so strange to just stand there with him, with no real purpose or gain out of it, “goodnight Changmin.”

He nods, reaching for his key rather awkwardly and you’d help if it didn’t mean reaching into the pocket of his jacket. You watch him struggle though he manages eventually, turning only briefly before he ultimately sighs, “I should walk you to the car.”

You want to ask why until you remember what your parents had said. Maybe they were right, that it really was unsafe and Changmin knew it too, “I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t care,” he puts his bags down in the hall right next to the door, letting it fall shut after him as he comes back down the steps to where you stand to begin the short journey back to your car. It’s so awkward between you both, so painfully silent and you think back to the woman at the grocery store again, the way she’d stared at you both.

“Well, I survived the walk to my car,” you think you see a faint smile on his face, but you don’t want to comment on it in case he notices and lets it fade away again, “goodnight Changmin. For real this time.”

Changmin smiles. He genuinely smiles and his dimples show on his cheeks enough to make you want to mirror a similar upturn of your lips. It’s contagious, and he stands there as you shut the door though let your window down just a little in case he wants to say anything else to you.

At first, you don’t think he’s going to. You think he’s going to let you leave but when you start the car, he leans his arms against the opened window and looks up at you again, carefully, as if his eyes are searching for something within your own and you wonder if your cheeks look as warm as they suddenly feel.

“Get home safe, little doll,” you want to answer but you’re left completely stunned by him. The wave of emotions you go through in his company can’t be quite good for you. It makes you feel vulnerable and a little confused and you can do nothing to help it. It’s simply there, every single feeling is right at the surface and you can’t hide it.

It makes you feel so exposed, enough that your words get caught in your throat and you have to simply drive away, seeing him in your rearview mirror, and you hope he gets inside and off the street if it really is as bad as you’d been told here.

You don’t mean to do it, but after a few minutes you turn around just to check that he’d gone inside, slowing down when you don’t see him anymore, nor do you see the groceries he’d placed down just inside when he’d chosen to walk you back to your car.

Which meant he was okay, and you could go home.

You’re at another one of Juyeon’s parties and you’ve had a little too much to drink. You don’t know what time it is, nor are you sure on where you’re even going. It’s disorienting for you to even walk, dizzying in hallways you’re familiar with and yet you can’t make out where you are. Eventually you give up and try to roll a cigarette, but you swear you’re seeing double and can’t even imagine the state you’re in.

Wondering if you look like a disaster, you try to see if you recognise anyone, though you’re alone aside from a couple making out not too far away from you. It bothers you a little, but you don’t want to bring their attention towards you and instead remain silently sat on the hardwood floor, beautifully dark and expensive. The music is still loud so you figure you must still be close to the main living room but you can’t be sure.

“Little princess, I’ve been trying to find you,” Juyeon’s worried voice breaks you out of whatever daze you’re in, looking up to see him stand there in his dress shirt that clings tight to his thin waist. He’s beautiful, of course, and you become aware of the state you must look like, now that something so gorgeous is in front of you.

What is happening to you?

“Am fine,” you mumble, wanting to close your eyes as much as you want to go outside to have a cigarette.

“You look awful,” you know. He doesn’t need to tell you, and yet when he does it stings deep and makes you wish he hadn’t said anything at all. You wish for just a moment that he’d lie to you and tell you otherwise, in a way that makes you think that the opposite might be true.

You want Juyeon to tell you that you’re pretty.

“I know,” he stares at you, silently first before he crouches down to your level. Your eyes meet and his are dark but pretty, a certain glazed spark that makes you want to kiss him, but you don’t.

“I can take you to my room,” you nod, holding your hand out to him so he can help you to your feet, and you stumble into his chest when gravity decides to not be in your favour, “when did you turn into such a drinker?”

You’re not sure, really, what had made you drink so excessively tonight, but Juyeon knew that you drank and could drink a lot so the question still takes you aback. Does he think you’ve gone off the rails?

“Am not…” though your lack of coordination and the fact that you feel increasingly ill from being intoxicated seems to suggest otherwise. Remembering how much you’ve had would be impossible to decipher so you wouldn’t even attempt it.

“Here… you should shower first.”

“Don’t wanna…” as if you’d trust yourself to even stand upright in the shower, but Juyeon seems just as persistent as you.

“I’m not letting you in my bed in this state,” you scoff, thinking it’s unbelievable that his first concern would be his silken bed sheets though simultaneously you know you’d be just the same. No way you’d ever let someone this drunk on your mattress with the chance that they’d be sick. You understood perfectly, and yet it still made you angry.

“Why’d you care so little about me?”

Juyeon doesn’t say anything first, leading you to the bathroom and you sit against the door, watching him move around without his attention ever going to you. It almost confirms the question, that he’s so indifferent and careless because you’re not worth even worrying about.

“You’re being dramatic.”

“Am I?”

You’re getting angry and it shows, pushing your body up with all the strength you can possibly find in your body, Juyeon catching you the moment you threaten to fall back to the floor. Even if he caught you, he seems to push your body away from him, like he doesn’t want you any closer and it kills something in you to have him act this way towards you when he’d been so sweet before.

“Why’re you doing this?”

“You should go home. I’ll get Chanhee,” normally, he would've let you stay. Juyeon would let you stay in his bed and the fact that he isn’t even offering it makes your heart sink deep, a heavy weighted feeling in your chest that’s just equally as hollow. Your heart is breaking and he doesn’t seem to care at all, nor does he seem to care for the consequences.

You stand completely alone, looking around the bathroom before you get a burst of energy that has you looking for any remnants of cocaine in any of his drawers. Juyeon hid it well, just in case the cleaners rummaged more than he’d requested, because he did not need anything to get back to his parents in regards to some of his more worrying behaviour. Unfortunately, you come up entirely empty and the door opens to you surrounded by a mess of his things.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Juyeon is so angry, you truly want to fear him with how he looks at you, but Chanhee and Hyunjae both stand there too, with Hyunjae even moving to block Juyeon’s body from you. You’re not sure why he does it, but to know he seems more concerned for you than the man you loved brought a new pain to your chest that really made you want to cry. He was so careless and it hurt.

“I’ll just take her home- don’t,” Chanhee glares at Juyeon when he makes an attempt to move towards you, and you’re grateful for your best friend when he helps you back up, albeit you have no way of really focusing in on him, your vision blurry and tired.

“Did she take anything?” Hyunjae. You think it’s Hyunjae, his voice soft and gentle, sounding entirely sober and you wonder if he’d had anything to drink at all. Usually he did, a bottle always famously in hand yet he seemed so okay now, you couldn’t imagine it.

“Don’t know,” cold. His voice sounds so cold and careless, it’s the only thing you can focus on. You can’t pay attention to Chanhee holding your body up or the fact that Hyunjae is right in front of you. You don’t even notice.

“It’s like she’s been drugged,” Chanhee. It’s Chanhee, and he sounds more angry than Juyeon, though for an entirely different reason. He’s concerned for you, but in a tone you’re not familiar with.

“Just get her out then.”

“She’s about to pass out, Juyeon.”

“I don’t care, Chanhee.”

Your vision is spotted and you start to think that maybe Hyunjae’s question has merit. You’d had plenty to drink but in your mind it hadn’t been enough to act like this. Yet you were so out of it, so unaware and so ready to sink back to the floor where your heart already lay in pieces.

“I’ll carry her. Let’s just go,” you can’t make out the voice anymore. You can barely make anything out as you feel yourself being lifted up onto someone’s back. He’s warm and strong, a cologne you recognise but not familiar enough with for it to belong to Chanhee. If it’s not your best friend and it isn’t Juyeon, it had to have been Hyunjae.

You hope it’s Hyunjae. He’s the one you’d trust the most after the two other men in the room with you.

You don’t remember falling asleep nor do you remember waking up, but there’s a sharp cold breeze and wind blowing through your short cut hair, earrings swaying with every step of the man who’s carrying you.

“Should we take her to the hospital?”

“I think she just needs to sleep,” you think that’s Hyunjae. You hope it is. He’s so comfortable to hold and so warm if that’s the case.

“I can’t believe Juyeon’s such an ass he can’t even let her crash in his bed.”

“I’m gonna talk to him about that,” the voice closest to you tells your best friend. At least you presume it to be. Eventually you let your eyes reopen, nuzzling deeper against Hyunjae’s shoulder once you confirm it really is him.

“You’re awake,” your best friend looks at you with a concerned gaze that has you wanting to turn away. You don’t like that look of pity and concern for your state. You’d much rather ignore the mess you are in favour of pretending it never happened.

“Hi pretty,” Hyunjae says, turning his head slightly to look back at you. You have to admit it’s incredibly nice to walk with them like this though you’re not sure why they didn’t just get your driver or one of their own, “we’re nearly at my place”

“Mhmm, why didn’t we uber?”

“Figured you could use the fresh air. It’s not much further,” Hyunjae answers, Chanhee walking in silence with you both.

“You’re really sweet Hyunjae,” you feel him laugh, the vibrations in his chest reaching you and it makes you smile against him. It’s nice, the way he laughs, the way it reaches deep in his chest and sounds so low and carefree.

“That I am, darling.”

You make it to Hyunjae’s place not long after and you’re not really sure what happens beyond that. You think you remember Chanhee asking if he could stay in the bathroom with you while you shower, just in case you fall or hurt yourself, and you do remember agreeing and even telling him to leave the door open in case Hyunjae had to come in to help.

After that, it becomes a little more muddled, though you do get a change of clothes from Hyunjae that swallow you whole because he’d already warned you ahead of time that it was too large for him too, and then you’re curled up in the centre of his bed with both your friends on either side of you.

You’re turned facing Chanhee, far less space between you and your best friend than you and Hyunjae, though Hyunjae had insisted on keeping a larger distance because he didn’t want you to feel weird about sharing a bed with him. He was right, it was a little weird at first to be in bed with him, but you got used to it quickly because you think he made a joke and you know you laughed and then you must’ve fallen asleep before they followed suit.

And suddenly you didn’t mind it at all.

You swear you’d been hungover for two days after that cursed party at Juyeon’s house. When you had first woken up in Hyunjae’s bed, you’d still felt drunk, and that drunk feeling turned into being hungover with a throbbing headache and the following day it still persisted. It had persisted but you needed to catch up on a lot of studying, having put it on the back burner long enough that soon your parents would notice and say something, or worse, take your allowance from you.

So you found yourself back at the library, overdressed to compensate and hide how absolutely shit you felt from the amount you’d had to drink, trying to find somewhere to sit. You decided to sit on a table far in the corner, away from everyone yet still within sight of the main area, opening your laptop up and grabbing one of your many notebooks and one of your textbooks.

You think an hour goes by when you briefly leave to grab a coffee from the cafe just down the street, coming back with a warm drink and another painkiller down your throat because the headache persisted and you had at least a few more hours to study before you could tell yourself it was enough.

It hadn’t even been a minute since you’d sat when a shadow of a person stood across from you, completely still first as if debating before he speaks, presumably towards you, “you don’t mind, right?”

You raise your head to see Changmin with a coffee from the same place you’d just been to, his hair wet from rain and his glasses a little slanted, his hoodie too large for his body and covering even his palms to imitate little paws.

“I guess it’s fine,” he sits diagonally to you, adjusting his glasses and you just stare as he gets his books and a notebook out, full of coloured little tabs and sticky notes. It was colourful, unexpectedly so, and very messy in a way. You wondered how he learned anything like that, but maybe he had a method.

“You got home okay last week?”

It’s a question directed towards you but it takes a minute for you to process it while you were in a daze, blinking out of it and focusing on him properly again, the way his hands rest under his chin, two of his fingers twisting one of his rings.

“Well, I’m here, right?”

He nods, having some of his coffee before he starts to write something. You think that’s all he’ll say, so you turn back to what you’re doing and try to focus on literally anything but him. He was such an easy distraction, and yet he did nothing to be that.

“Are you hungover?” Shit.

Were you really that obvious, or was Changmin just that good at guessing? You honestly couldn’t tell, and you weren’t sure what you favoured less.

“I look like shit, don’t I?” Changmin surprises you when he smiles, not in a way that tells you he agrees but in a way that tells you he’s amused. Like he genuinely finds it funny that that was your conclusion to his question.

“Is that what I said?” Well, no, you supposed not, but it surely felt like it first when he’d posed the question, “you just look a little out of it.”

You were. God, you were so fucking over everything and you couldn’t fully describe or explain what was happening to you. Something was, but you couldn't control it nor did you control your feelings or outcomes of the situations you put yourself in when you didn’t need to be in them.

“I am, yeah,” he opens the lid of his coffee, as if trying to reach the foam that normally clings to the lid of the cup like glue. You stare at him again like a bad habit, only realising after a while that neither of you are attempting to argue with the other and maybe you don’t detest him so much.

Just maybe.

“Juyeon’s, right? I heard about it,” you look away from him in favour of finding your coffee and having some of it before it gets too cold and bitter to taste. You’re not sure what to answer to that, not more than a nod because it feels weird to know that he wouldn’t even have been invited yet he knows that it happened and that you were there.

“Yeah,” it sounds weak and you try to clear your throat, coughing instead as a result and turning your eyes back to the words in front of you, the mathematical equations that make you want to die the longer you look at them and the scribbles you’re trying to decipher even though you were the one to put them there.

“You look confused.”

“I am confused,” you tell him, and he surprises you by getting up and coming over to you, hovering into your personal space before you can ask him what the hell he’s doing. He’s close but never too close, and you hope no one is watching you both or peering in to the fact that you’re being friendly. “I can solve it for you if you want,” now it’s your turn to be amused and laugh, because no way in hell is Changmin able to look at your notes with anything other than a giant question mark over his head, “What? You think I don’t know how to do mathematical analysis?”

“Honestly, no,” you confess, and he looks at you strangely before reaching over for one of his pens.

“I can do the first one. It’ll help you figure out the second question,” you’re not sure why you agree or why you let him so easily take control of your notebook, but he does and you don’t say anything first, watching the way he writes out the equation. His motions are so fluid, the way his fingers grip the pen with confidence in what he writes. There doesn’t seem to be a single mistake as he writes, like he knows exactly how to get the answer and it amazes you.

“I didn’t know you were smart,” you’d meant it as a genuine compliment and genuine amazement but it’s clear to you that it sounds quite backhanded, which you suppose mirrors your personality towards him more. He doesn’t flinch, ignoring you entirely before he pushes your notes back to you.

“There you go,” he gets up before you can even say thank you, and it’s the sudden absence of his presence beside you that makes you realise you didn’t mind him in your space at all. You feel like you should, that you did just recently, but his closeness to you had felt like a safe presence, not a familiarity yet and not foreign enough to make you alert to it.

It was just sort of there. He just sort of existed with you.

“Thank you,” you’ve never sounded so sincere with him before, not that you had ever wanted to be nor meant it, but even when he’d been kind enough to cut your hair and not fuck it up, even then you hadn’t thanked him the way you did now, even if you’d argue that that gesture was far more important to you than this.

“You really don’t need to thank me. I find it weird,” what a way to ruin it. You roll your eyes and turn back to your work instead, using his method of solving the equation to help you figure out the rest. His handwriting was a little sloppy but you could read it fairly well, though the few times you struggle you still refused to ask him to tell you outright what it meant.

“How’s your cat?”

“You don’t have to make conversation either,” he adds, but it doesn’t sound troubled or annoyed, rather a statement that you don’t have to put in effort where you don’t want to. And then you wonder why you’re putting in any effort at all so suddenly, “he’s fine. How’s yours?”

“She’s fine.” “That’s good,” he never once looks up at you and it’s starting to bother you. Are you that ugly, that he simply didn’t want to see you at all? Was there something about you that was so easy to detest that even someone like Changmin couldn’t find it in himself to be decent and meet your eyes?

It’s like he could sense your thoughts and your bitterness of his refusal to meet your eyes, because suddenly his deep brown ones were staring into your own and you found it almost overwhelming to meet his gaze. His eye contact lingered and he didn’t falter with it, and eventually the way he stared back at you became too intense and you had to look away.

“You’re terrible with eye contact,” you were, he was right. It wasn’t very comfortable for you, and the longer someone lingered on you, the worse it got unless you were angry and intimidating someone.

“It’s weird to stare at someone.”

“You stared at me first,” fuck, so he’d noticed it. Of course he had. You knew what it was like, to feel that stare of someone enough so that you tried to find where it was coming from. In this case, Changmin had felt it yet there hadn’t been enough people around to hide that it was you. He knew instantly, because it had been obvious.

“I daydream.”

“How cute,” it sounds sarcastic coming from his lips. You don’t think he genuinely finds you cute. Honestly, you’d take it as an insult if he did. Cute was for animals, not for a grown woman, and so you were glad to know that for once he was mocking you.

There’s no words said between either of you for a while. You finish your coffee and he finishes his, and after a while he gets up and grabs both empty cups once he’s sure there’s nothing left in yours, “where’re you going?”

“Bin,” he leaves you alone and you’re left staring at him dumbly, watching his figure disappear behind rows of books and shelves. But then he doesn’t come back, and a few minutes turn into a quarter of an hour and you want to start looking for him. His things were still with you, including his phone, and you wonder why or when he became so trusting of you. Surely you could take it all or worse, you could ruin it, and he just had faith that you apparently wouldn’t.

Eventually he reappears, but you only notice because another cup of coffee is suddenly right in front of your eyes, held by hands you recognise because of the jewellery adorned, and it’s only further confirmed when you look up again to see him standing there.

“You got me a coffee?”

“Why’re you so surprised?”

Many reasons. You don’t like each other very much. His money was tight, that you knew. Or just the fact that it was the last thing you naturally expected when he’d disappeared for so long.

“How do you know what I drink?”

“Guesswork. It’s skimmed milk, too.”

Even Juyeon messed that up. He’d mess it up nearly every time and you could always taste the difference, you swore it, and yet he’d lie and say he’d gotten it right just enough for you to want to believe that maybe you were wrong. Maybe it wasn’t him that screwed up.

Surely it was always you.

“I really don’t want to keep thanking you today.”

“Then just get the next one in a few hours,” you’re rendered a little speechless on the silent assumption that you’d both be here for most of the day, but you suppose he’s being fair and that it’s very likely you’ll be here for a while, still.

“I guess,” you mumble, bringing the coffee closer to you to warm your fingers. You hold it for a while, fingers laced together before you bring the liquid to your lips to drink. It tastes exactly like you would’ve wanted it to, and briefly it makes your mind wander on how he could’ve known it so well.

You’re back to sitting in complete silence and after a few hours go by like that, Changmin seems disinterested in his work and instead wanders off before returning with a book to read. It brings amusement to your lips, an upwards smile that you try to hide under your hand because you don’t want him to comment on it. Thankfully he doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he ignores it.

“Well… I suppose it’s my turn,” you mutter, reaching over for his empty cup before taking your own. He looks up at you with warm eyes, adjusting his glasses again and you start to think that it might be a habit given the repetition in which you see him do so.

“I’ll have a cappuccino.”

“Do you want it with the chocolate powder?”

“Yeah, just as it comes is fine,” you leave your things aside from your wallet and phone, as well as the two empty to-go cups and make your way out. It’s a strange feeling, running an errand of sorts you suppose for the both of you. And yet studying with Changmin across from you isn’t bad at all. Actually, you find it strangely peaceful, because he doesn’t bother you at all but his presence makes you feel less isolated.

You like that he doesn’t really make an attempt at a conversation where there isn’t one to be had.

“Here you go,” he mumbles something similar to a thank you, at least you think, his hand reaching out for you to place his coffee into. You do so, watching as he doesn’t once look up but his fingers dust over your own and it makes your heart jump to your throat because the feeling is foreign and strange but you want to welcome it.

You don’t like that you do, huffing in frustration at yourself and your stupid mess of emotions that have been scattered ever since that forsaken incident weeks ago. Maybe you’d have to consider therapy at this point, if the mess that was your mind persisted and the results were hangovers spread over multiple days and heart palpitations because someone simply touched you.

“Thanks,” you nod but he doesn’t seem to notice, so deeply caught up in his work that you think it might be something important, or at least incredibly interesting. He’d put the book he’d found earlier down and held his pen between his lips, fingers running through his now dry hair as he gripped the ends when he seemed frustrated.

Again, you were staring, but it was far too easy to do when he was right there and practically the only source of entertainment for your mind when your work was boring you to death.

“Struggling?”

“I suppose,” he draws out, pen no longer between his lips so he could answer you. You want to ask him what he’s doing, what exactly he’s even majoring in because you realise you have no idea. Then again, it had never interested you enough to ask and you’re not so sure if you ever will.

“Biochemistry,” he says outloud, presumably spoken to you. When you don’t answer, he looks up and stares right at you, “that’s what I’m studying.”

Wow, so he really was smart.

“Willingly?”

“Surprised?”

“Maybe,” the back and forth felt a little like flirting, and yet you knew it wasn’t that. It was a back and forth simply because the conversation never really went deeper. It was quick because there was nothing else to say.

It’s early in the evening when you decide that you've had enough. Changmin had left a few times for a cigarette, always rolling one at the table with you right there, making lazy conversation before he’d leave for a few minutes and then return. You debated asking if you could come with him just once before you remembered where you were and who you were with, so instead you sat and accepted the nicotine withdrawal.

“I think I’m done for the day,” he looks up at you briefly before he stretches his limbs, turning his shoulder either direction to warm his muscles and rid them of the tension from being mostly sat all day.

“That’s fair,” you start to pack up and there’s something in your mind wondering if you’d end up doing this again. You wouldn’t entirely mind it, as annoying as he is, when you simply sit with each other it’s rather nice and easy. It’s when the two of you start to speak to one another that problems arise. It’s when you realise again who he is that the calmness in your veins turns into something else.

“You’ll take a break at some point, right?”

“I plan to, doll,” his eyes meet yours again and you’re left staring, unsure what to make of that nickname anymore. It still bothers you and yet you perceive it as a compliment just the same, for if he calls you a doll, surely you’re delicate enough to be one?

“Don’t forget dinner,” he adds when you start to walk away from the table, and it brings you to a halt. Changmin doesn’t look up from his work, although you know that he’s aware that you’ve stopped, that you’re probably frustrated and that you want to tell him to go to hell when you let out a frustrated sigh. He has no right to tell you that, and yet the very fact that he’d brought it up at all with such casual nonchalance yet clear determined voice makes you think he might say it because he’s worried but doesn’t want to push a boundary further than he thinks he needs to.

He wants to remind you without pressuring you into a corner.

First you think of saying something, to maybe make a comment back but for the longest time you’re left standing there with nothing coming out of your lips. You simply can’t find anything to say.

“I’ll remember dinner when you forget to smoke,” he looks up from his textbook but you’ve already turned away from him, disappearing behind the shelfs and he’s left staring after you, a little lost before a faint smile falls back to his lips and his dimples become prominent despite just the faintness in which his lips curve.

You’d never know that he didn’t smoke for the rest of the night, but you did have dinner before you curled up in your bed with a book and your cat sat lazily beside you.

Changmin was starting to interest you. Not because you liked him but rather because he left you curious and a little stunned because of how strange he was. You were also wondering how or why he always managed to read you so well, it was all guess work and yet it was simply always correct just the same and you had no idea how he did it. Aside from the thought that he might be stalking you but you were always more than certain that he’d claim to have better things to do than follow you.

You hadn’t studied with Changmin since the hours spent in the library together but you had used the few notes and solutions he gave you the next few days as you revised. It was incredibly helpful, annoyingly so and you were beginning to feel a little dumb because why couldn't you have just written this out yourself? It wasn’t difficult now that you saw the answer.

Sunday night comes around and you’re lazily hanging around in bed listening to the rain outside. You’re so bored, but there was no party to attend and nothing else to really do. Chanhee said he was too busy and you weren’t going to ask Hyunjae, even though you had his number. You considered it truly, but ultimately didn’t want to give him the wrong idea of you nor were you sure how that would look if Juyeon found out.

Juyeon. A thorn in your side that pinched and twisted. He wouldn’t go away and you were conflicted on whether or not you wanted him to. You cared for Juyeon deeply and yet he seemed to prove the opposite in return, that you were worth the minimum if nothing at all. The final bit of evidence wasn’t even too long ago, when he left Hyunjae and Chanhee to carry you home instead of simply letting you stay in his bed to recover.

It was starting to feel, just a little, like Changmin might be right. Maybe the bad did outweigh the good though you weren’t ready to face the consequences of that being true. You weren’t ready for any of it. You didn’t want it to be true, because if it was you would have to grieve something only you seemed to love and you really didn’t want to be faced with that reality.

The doorbell rings and it breaks you away. It takes you a minute to realise that you’ll have to be the one to answer, as your parents are out and none of the staff remained given the late hour. You wondered why your parents still didn’t invest their money on a live-in butler, but they insisted he would attempt to steal with all the extra time given to him in which he simply stayed here.

When you come downstairs you’re already a little annoyed. The ringing persisted and whoever it was was incredibly impatient with you getting there, so you’re already ready to yell at whoever it is but when you finally meet the gaze of who it is, you stop in your step and stare.

Juyeon.

act iii

this chapter was meant to be longer but tumblr said no so I apologise for the cliffhanger it's not my fault and also apologise that this won't be three acts only pfff

taglist: @sanaxo-o @mosviqu @sunramzi @tbzhubrecs @caratsmatic @synnocence

again, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist 💜 comments are always appreciated

series masterlist || tbz masterlist

©️strayed-quokka, please do not steal, translate, reuse or rewrite as your own

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cupidjyu · 1 year ago

Text

the sweetener you are

hyunjae x reader (idea from the anon who requested childhood friends to lovers!)

summary: when a mysterious man moves into the apartment next door, you realize that he’s your childhood best friend who’s disappeared for years. he changed, his life seeming to have soured. but you could just be his sweetener, the one to make him smile again

genre: best friends to lovers, and boy-next-door sorta thing, hurt/comfort for him because he deserves the world, nightmares, healing, one bed trope, youre forced to move in with him hahaha am i evil, back hugs, he acts "drunk" when tired (dont ask why, it was just an excuse to write him being clingy), hes flirty ish and teasing, hes shirtless for like one second (BECAUSE.), sleepy love confessions, kissing, is there tension? i can't tell myself, “sweetheart” good god notes: school started so expect much much less after this... so see you in a bit 🥲🥲but hope u enjoy!!! this is literally just yumi who needs to stop writing long interpretations of their love for hyunjae in the form of fics + song inspo! word count: 12.7k

You coughed. You choked. And then you glared straight at Younghoon who was staring back in complete alarm. Setting the unfinished glass down on the counter with a loud clink, you clenched your jaw with unspoken curse words that threatened to escape your lips.

“This tastes like dirt,” You garbled out. Rushing over to one of your cupboards, you pulled out one of those small sugar packets that you liked to swipe from those cute coffee shops. If it was free, why not take a few? Ripping the paper open, you poured it into the drink that didn’t even look like it belonged on this planet. It was both… green and yellowish-blue at the same time.

Younghoon gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth dramatically. “That’s not healthy!”

“But it tastes so bad,” You whined. “It needs a sweetener.”

He glared, dragging his hand all the way down his jaw in an unattractive way. “It’s an herbal drink. It’s meant to taste bad. Think of all the health benefits you could’ve gotten out of that without the sugar.”

“You made this?” You scrunched up your face in disgust.

“No, I–” He laughed nervously. “My mom did. I promised her I would finish it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And you couldn’t because it tasted so bad. So you’re making me finish it.”

He gave you a pained smile as he stepped away. “I– who said that?”

“Why’re we even friends?” You questioned before jabbing a finger at the door. “Get out.”

Younghoon pouted but he eventually obliged, opening the apartment door. “You still owe me money for that overpriced tiny piece of cake by the way.”

“It tasted good!” You shot back.

“It did not.” He sighed. “It’s just you with your horrible sweet tooth. Don’t even– hey…” You noticed him peeking out of your door and into the hallway. And then he leaned back in, searching your face with wonder. “Someone’s moving in next door.”

You brightened with interest at that, practically jumping off where you were sitting on the kitchen counter. Bounding over to the door, you poked your head out under Younghoon’s, just like they did in the cartoons. Squinting your eyes, all you could see was a tall man with a cap on that covered most of his face.

“Who’s that?” Younghoon said, slightly too loud for your liking.

With a groan, you elbowed him in the ribs. “Shh…how would I know? Though... he does look better than that old dude who constantly yelled at those courtroom TV shows like he was the judge.” It was like the apartment next to yours was cursed. Magic wasn’t real here. Or at least, in this world. But you still believed that a witch had strolled by and casually placed a hex on Apt 245 for the fun of it. For the time that you’ve been here, you’ve seen about five people move in there. And they were never happy.

Once, there were two parents who had to deal with multiple children who would not stop crying. You hadn’t slept a wink the whole time they were there. They did receive a noise complaint though. Another time, there was a teenager who couldn’t even properly pay off the rent. He didn’t have a job. But he could somehow afford the loudest speaker where he would play the most gut-wrenching, saddest music ever. He got evicted.

But this man… well–he looked decent. Really. No evident curse here. Or at least, yet. When he turned around, you could see that he was very tall and… broad. Apparently, that was the first thing you noticed. He also seemed to pick up the moving boxes with ease and when he had stepped just the slightest to the side, you could see the impossibly perfect slope of his nose. Also a very odd thing to notice.

Younghoon grasped your arm, pulling you back into your own apartment.

“Don’t fall in love.”

You gaped at him. “What? I don’t even know who he is.”

He raised an eyebrow. “But he’s tall. And broad. And has a nice nose. I know you. I know your type.”

Shit.

“You do know me,” You mumbled sheepishly. “But still!” You poked him harshly. “I won’t fall in love. I probably won’t even see him for like– a month. Or he’s going to be cursed and moved out like the others. Don’t worry.”

Your friend narrowed his eyes in skepticism but he eventually nodded. “As long as you don’t bump into him tomorrow or something.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Of course. I won’t fall in love.”

You didn’t fall in love. You fell onto the floor.

And you also happened to bump into him the next day ironically enough.

If only—if only—you decided to pick up your mail yesterday like you were supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. And by this, you meant being distracted by a cup that rolled out of your new neighbor’s door and then walking straight into his chest.

You squeaked in horror. “I’m sorry!” And then you stepped backwards, tripped on your badly-timed untied shoelace, and ended up on the floor in the middle of the hallway.

When you looked up, there was a pretty hand that reached out to help you up. Taking it with burning cheeks, you could finally see what this man looked like up close and without a cap.

And you would have expected maybe one of those boy-next-door romantic moments where you would fall into his arms and start dating the next day. Oh, and also kiss and eventually get married. But no, you—

“Hyunjae?”

The man—Hyunjae—gaped at you with comically wide eyes.

“Y/n,” He breathed out.

As long-lost childhood friends, the most sensible thing to do was ask how he was. But you often defied expectations, positively or negatively, and so instead you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug.

Hyunjae, whom you’ve known since you were just young kids, has been your best friend for as long as you could remember. He used to be on the elementary school track team while you… were on the bleachers trying to tell the difference between subtraction and addition. But luckily, Hyunjae was both a smart and kind kid and so he had stopped in the middle of his running to sit with you and teach what your teacher couldn’t do properly.

He was always one year older, always more mature and experienced. But he tended to throw that away just for you and join in on playing games with you when he should’ve been studying for an exam. But he did so to cheer you up. He was sweet like that and you adored spending your afternoons after school with him.

The two of you even got to experience those dreadful high school years together, except there was always that haunting realization—that he would eventually graduate first. But he always reassured you.

“It’s just one year, silly,” He joked, pulling you into a side hug, one that perfectly portrayed his understanding of your worries. “I’ll text and call you all the time. Promise.”

Promises were often broken and this wasn’t any different. For when he had left for college, he never contacted you ever again. You had tried to reach out, but he never responded. And so, for your whole college term, you never saw Lee Hyunjae, your supposed “best friend,” ever again.

And you should have been mad—no, furious to see him again. You should have pushed him away and went on with your life while skillfully avoiding him. But just the simple sight of him brought back all those fond memories–baking cupcakes, falling asleep together just after screaming over a horror movie, holding each other when life just gets too much... And so you found yourself buried into his chest, holding him tightly.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered again, shutting your eyes in both contentment and fear of him pushing you away again.

But you felt two hands snake around your middle, hugging you back. There were a million questions running through your mind at that moment, wondering why he had disappeared but welcomed you so easily. But you set them aside, choosing to just melt into his still familiar embrace.

Finally though, you managed to pull away, looking at him with a fond smile. He smiled back. He had grown even more handsome than before. He managed to become taller, broader, and more charming all at once. His features were sharp, more mature. Something about him–the way he was dressed in a literal suit–really portrayed to you that he really was an adult now, as opposed to the teenager who procrastinated on science projects.

“How are you?” He smiled, almost too polite for your liking. You could see the way he stood, awkwardly and with fidgeting hands. And that was when it all hit you like a truck.

Your eyebrows suddenly furrowed, your lips pulled into a scowl, and your eyes narrowed as you stepped forward. “How am I? No. How could you–” You banged a fist on his firm chest. “–leave me–” Another punch. “–like that–” He stepped back in growing alarm. “–and act all polite and uneasy as if we weren’t best friends for years?” Both of your fists lingered on his chest, your strength growing weak from frustration.

“Y/n, I–” He winced.

“Actually, I hate you.” You glared. But your words differentiated from your actions when your hand came to smooth down his crumpled tie. “I don’t want to see you ever again. You’re an absolute asshole and I–” But your eyes met with his, his gaze amused and soft. And then you sniffled, looking down at the ground, the urge to cry suddenly overcoming you.

Hyunjae laughed quietly. “I’m sorry. If you would allow me to explain?”

“Great,” You grumbled. “Then do so. Since you’ve owed me an explanation after all these years.”

He glanced at his watch. “I have work. Tomorrow, maybe? Trust me.”

You looked at him in bewilderment. “Work? But you haven’t even unpacked yet.” You eyed his apartment with the door open. There were multiple boxes strewn about, some not even open yet.

“Emergencies,” He sighed. That was when you noticed just how exhausted he looked. “I have to go.”

“Oh,” You stuttered. “Okay. I– good luck?”

Hyunjae smiled, pinching your cheek just like he had done all those years ago. He seemed to be completely unfazed over the fact that you just punched him in anger. “Thank you.” And he was locking the door behind him and heading for the elevator. But just as he was walking away, you felt the need to call something out. Just a few words.

“Hyunjae?” You said.

He turned around, tilting his head. You never knew just how well work attire suited him. He looked almost… attractive. But god, what were you thinking?

“I missed you.”

He smiled but he never quite gave you a response as the elevator ding had interrupted him. Instead, he just gave you a small wave.

It was odd. Awkward. But one step at a time, you figured. It’s been years after all.

The next day, as promised, he had shown up to your door. This time, since it was the weekend, he was wearing a simple white shirt. One that still never failed to accentuate his broad shoulders.

But initially, you thought it was Younghoon and not a guy who you haven’t seen for multiple years. So you may or may not have opened the door with your hair like a bird’s nest and your sleepwear on that… wasn’t meant for the general public to see. Apparently, Hyunjae fits in the general public category now. Best friend? No, you hate him.

Kind of.

Not really.

Stumbling to the door, you flung it open, your eyes barely open. Immediately, you were met with the sight of just. Long legs. Not very helpful.

“Who–” And then you looked up, only to meet Hyunjae’s eyes. Choking on your spit, you straightened up. “Hello,” You blurted out in a monotone voice.

He raised an eyebrow and tilted his chin down with amusement. “And who’s the uneasy one now?”

“Sorry, I…” Your eyes trailed down to what you were wearing. With an internal gasp, you stepped backward. “I’m going to– change.”

He widened his eyes and then his gaze also traveled down. His cheeks were oddly red and he cleared his throat, looking away.

You cringed and shut the door in his face before he could even say anything.

Now in proper clothes that were for the general public, you opened the door again. He was still standing there with that same smile. The same kind, caring one he always regarded you with even when you were just kids.

“Where should we talk?” You asked.

His eyes glanced over to his own door. “My place?” He offered quietly. “I have unpacking to do.”

You stared at him silently. And then you nodded with an excited smile. “I can help.”

“Oh no,” He laughed softly. “You don’t have to. I’m fine on my–”

“You don’t look fine,” You interrupted. And without thinking, your hand came up to cup his cheek, turning him to face you. “You look tired.”

He stared at you wordlessly before sighing. “I guess I am.”

“So let me help.” You grinned. “I’m using my vacation days from work right now anyway.”

He could only mutter a shy “okay” as he opened the door for you to enter. Looking around, you found that the only things that he had unpacked lacked much of any personality. He took out the necessities and a bunch of… work. Papers, a computer, work suits and the like.

“You seem busy,” You remarked as you walked over to the box labeled “decorations” only for there to literally be one single plant that looked like it needed to be watered. In fact, it was on the brink of death. Immediately, your face was contorting in worry and you turned to where he was just standing at the entrance with an embarrassed expression. “What… happened to your initial dream?”

He approached you and peered into the box. “What dream?”

“The one where you wanted to have a place full of pretty plants.”

“Yeah well,” He laughed bitterly. “Circumstances change aspirations.”

You gulped nervously at his change of tone. Something was bothering him. Something, in particular, caused him to move here. You led him to the couch and sat next to him.

“So what is it? Why did you cut everyone off and– disappear?” You asked cautiously.

He looked at you for a long minute like he was trying to figure out a response for himself. And finally, he just sighed in defeat.

“Problems.”

“Like what?” You prodded.

“A lot. And I wouldn’t want to lay them all on you.” He gave you a weak smile. You regarded him with a soft look in your eyes, searching his face for any sort of answer. All you could see was a flame that had long been put out.

“Then tell me one.”

“One?” He bit his lip nervously. “One…”

“Just one,” You said gently.

“Like the one where the place I used to work at didn’t treat me right? That they refused to give me anything?” He mumbled, his voice trailing off with embarrassment. “So I moved here so that I could get away? That one?”

You froze at his words. You processed them and that was when it began to make sense. He wasn’t going to work yesterday. He was going to an interview. His computer was open to job openings and the papers weren’t reports. They were resumes.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. But he was already distancing himself, standing up from the couch. You gazed at him with concern as you stood up, only for him to take a step backward.

“Why are you…” You frowned. “It’s okay, you know. Did you think I would look at you any differently?”

His jaw clenched. “Well, I did cut you off because I didn’t want to worry you. You always told me I would be successful, the best. So how exactly could I face you after they…”

“That’s not your fault. And I’m sorry for putting that on you,” You mustered, stepping closer. This time, he didn’t step away. He allowed you to do anything. He let you trail a hand down to his wrist, holding it gently. “It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me more. I’m sorry.”

He watched you with slight surprise, and with his lips pulled into a straight line, he whispered a small, “I should be the one who’s sorry.”

You shook your head with a smile. “Don’t be.”

He stayed silent at that, simply studying your features. You could tell he still wanted to apologize. But then the corner of his lips lifted slightly. “You grew up.” His tone was gentle, so kind, just like you’ve always known. It was a little quieter than before though, more closed off as if he was afraid–scared of what you would think of him.

You laughed bashfully. “And so did you.” Your hand trailed up to his shoulder. “Did you start working out?”

He smirked. “Why, do you like my progress?”

You snorted. “Could improve.”

He scoffed yet he only looked at you with fondness. The two of you simply stood there, in the midst of his empty apartment, just staring at each other. And then you giggled. He laughed as well before reaching forward and pulling you into his arms, squeezing you so tight that you felt the air leave your lungs.

“Ah–” You choked. “Hyunjae. You’re killing me.”

“I’m showing you my newfound strength,” He joked, stepping away. You were about to refute but instead, you felt your gaze wandering to his arms. Since when were they so toned and–

“Very funny,” You weakly replied. Escaping from his persisting soft gaze, you stepped away and approached the various boxes. “What can I help you with?”

Hyunjae didn’t have much. Apparently, all those large boxes contained about three small things.

“I overestimated,” He replied with a sheepish smile when you asked.

Most of his things were put away yet when you looked around, the apartment was void of any joy or charm. The only boxes that were left were his clothes which he claimed he could do another day. After putting away his single cup and plate–that’s all he had apparently–you turned around only to see that he was crouched, bending towards that same plant that you pointed out. Its leaves were drooping and the stem wilting, as his fingers gently prodded at it. When you looked closely, you could see a melancholy look on his face, a small frown tugging on his lips.

It was true, that Hyunjae had many dreams when he was younger. That was normal for many people. But to witness it all dissipate before your sight, no sign of light behind his eyes, you couldn’t help but feel your heart clench.

Walking over, you crouched down next to him. He gave you a forced smile.

“Kind of sad,” He remarked with a disappointed sigh. “I bought it only for me to fail to take care of it.”

“You can always buy another one.”

“Mhm,” He hummed dully. “Sure.”

You watched him wordlessly, observing the way his gaze fell when one of the leaves broke off. Shaking your head, you suddenly stood up.

“Let’s go out.”

He looked up at you in surprise. “What?”

“I’ll be your tour guide of the town,” You joked. “I know everything.”

Standing up with you, he stole a glance at his phone. “I can’t.”

“Why?” You pouted.

“I’m waiting for my result from the interview.”

You sighed and took his wrist in yours, pulling him to the door. “You need to get your mind off that for a second.”

“But–”

“Please?” You looked up at him, even batting your eyelashes. “Just for a moment?” You also exaggerated a pout.

He blinked in shock, his eyes trailing over your expression. “What are you doing?”

“Making you feel bad. Is it working?” You held back a grin.

He huffed out a laugh. “Definitely. Fine, just for a moment.”

You grinned and you were already pulling on your shoes and bounding out the door, leaving Hyunjae to smile to himself.

“This is a convenience store.” You pointed at it with a bright smile.

He rolled his eyes. “I know what a convenience store is.”

You laughed and led him to the next block before abruptly stopping. “This is the karaoke bar,” You said, pointing at the nearby building.

“Fun,” He muttered.

“We should go one day.” You smiled. “Actually no.” You scowled. “I got drunk there once and I think they banned me because I was dancing on the tables.”

Hyunjae turned to you in slight shock. “You? Drunk?”

“What?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “What is it?”

“I just… you always said that you hated the taste of alcohol,” He replied in wonder.

“Times change.” You grinned, nudging his shoulder. He gave you a small smile back.

Then, you led him to your favorite spot. The central park in the middle of town. It was a beautiful day out, the sky bright and blue. You loved to sit at one of the benches, watching birds fly by or kids play happily on the playground.

“Wait here.” You patted the seat. And then you were running off, nowhere to be seen. Hyunjae simply sat there, observing the calm atmosphere. When you came back, you were holding a stick of cotton candy in your hand. It was large, almost covering your whole face. Hyunjae chuckled, taking it from you so you wouldn’t trip on the ground.

“Aren’t we too old for this?” He questioned.

You shook your head. “I still love it.”

He took a bite and turned to look at you with furrowed eyebrows. “It’s so sweet.”

“That’s why it’s good!” You stared at him like he was the craziest man alive.

“It’s because you’ve always had a sweet tooth.” He frowned, gently placing it back in your hands.

“Fine,” You scoffed. “If that’s how you treat your best friend.” And you were taking a bite on the opposite side. When you pulled it away from your face, you were startled by a loud laugh. From Hyunjae, specifically. Turning to him with wide eyes, you could even see him smiling.

It was not like the other smiles that you’ve seen so far. Those ones were small, lacking much of any emotion. But this one was wide, full with amusement and happiness.

“Wha– oh,” You huffed, realizing that there was cotton candy on your nose. Hyunjae laughed even louder and suddenly he was leaning in to gently wipe it off with his finger.

“Cutie,” He whispered fondly, his other hand gently cupping the side of your face.

Your heart stuttered at the word. “Wh-what?”

He gulped, pulling away like he was burned. “Oh, I…”

You quickly recovered, instead scooching even closer to him so that your shoulders were touching. “You think I’m cute? Even when I’m all grown up?”

“Always.”

“I missed your smile,” You stated as the two of you were walking back to the apartment complex.

You had expected him to point out that he had smiled other times before. But instead, he gazed at you with soft eyes.

“I did too. It’s been a while since I’ve felt so happy,” He said. “All thanks to you.”

“Of course!” You beamed, looping an arm with his before pulling him closer. “You can always count on me.”

He didn’t respond this time. But his expression said it all. Thank you, thank you, thank you, was all you could see in his dark brown eyes. Smiling, you bumped your body playfully against his.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” You asked.

Again, you found yourself in his apartment the next day. Apparently, he had just gotten back from running and he needed to take a shower. So, you were looking through his boxes full of clothes. You sorted through them, folding them until you came across a hoodie. You didn’t recognize it, but the fabric of it was so… soft and warm. Your hands held onto it, contemplating what it would feel like if you just–

The door to the bathroom creaked open. You gasped and shoved it behind you, greatly hoping that he didn’t notice you staring at it longingly. But alas, you just had to have slow reflexes at this moment.

“Do you like it?” He asked. “Put it on.”

You laughed awkwardly, turning to face him, only for your protests to come stuttering to a stop. Your eyes trailed down from his damp hair to his… whole torso. His bare torso. He was shirtless. Right out of the shower, water droplets sitting prettily on his collarbones, traveling all the way down to his chest and his– he definitely works out.

“Oh,” You breathed out, your cheeks flushing red as you frantically looked away. This was not how you expected to reunite with your best friend after so long.

“Sorry,” He replied, his voice low. “My shirt’s in there.”

You nodded, refusing to look up. It was quiet for a moment, too quiet that you contemplated just shoving his clothes into his hands while dutifully avoiding the sight of his bare chest.

But then he was right beside you and he smelled so, so good as he leaned over you, his hand gently grasping your waist. To take a shirt. Very unnecessary but it still left you inhaling sharply. Feeling yourself go dizzy as you stood there, eyes trained on the ground, and every single muscle in all of human anatomy completely rigid until you were sure he was properly dressed.

Taking a peek, you were met with his teasing smile.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” You mustered.

“You were staring weren’t you?” He leaned even closer, his eyes searching yours with amusement. His hand gently lifted your chin up, making you swallow thickly at the way he was gazing at you with a small smirk.

“I wasn’t,” You whispered shakily.

“Hm,” He hummed. “You look a little flushed though.”

“It was nothing,” You shoved him away, feeling like your face was on fire. “You shouldn’t just walk around like that. It’s…”

“Mhm.” He only continued to smile wider. “Whatever you say.”

You groaned, abruptly turning away to hide your reddening cheeks. But then your eyes landed back on that same hoodie.

“I know that look on your face,” He teased, picking it up. “You like it.”

“I don’t.”

“Okay,” He simply replied, shrugging and turning around. You were just about to question his suspiciously short response when out of nowhere, he whipped back around and pulled the hoodie over you. Immediately, you were encompassed in warmth and– did he always smell this good? And why was he staring at you so softly with that stupid fond smile and why was your heart beating a mile a minute and–

“Hyunjae,” You groaned. “What was that for?”

But he stayed silent, simply examining you wearing his clothes. You tilted your head.

“Do I look good?”

His breath hitched and now it was him with reddening cheeks as he backed away. You stifled a laugh as you stepped forward, cornering him against the edge of the kitchen counter.

“And I know that look on your face,” You teased back. “You like it.”

His eyes fluttered, almost like he was fighting the urge to look over your body once again. He inhaled deeply and then he straightened, leaning over you this time. With a subtle smile, he whispered something that left shivers down your spine.

“I love it.”

Oh my god. You treaded backwards, suddenly feeling conscious of everything. His eyes on you–all over you–the way the shirt clung to his body, the rushing thought of the fact that you saw him without it on just a few minutes ago–everything came over you like a bucket of ice water.

“I–” With wide eyes, he only continued to approach you, the scent of his shampoo overcoming you quickly. You couldn’t come up with a comeback anymore. At first, you thought that this was just friendly banter, the type that you guys would do in the school cafeteria. But this–this was something different. With the way he was looking at you with darkening eyes, you weren’t quite sure this was that “friendly banter” thing anymore.

“Shut up,” You blurted out as you pulled the hoodie off you and thrust it into his chest.

“Why?” He grinned. “I like this game.”

You raised your eyebrows. “What game is this exactly?”

“The game of making the other person flustered.”

You stood there for a moment, thinking. You couldn’t quite come up with a verbal comeback. So you could instead…

Taking a step forward, you hooked a hand around the back of his neck, letting your touch linger there for a moment. A stuttering breath was caught thickly in his throat as he looked down at you in bafflement.

And then you let your fingertips trail around, down his neck, across his collarbone, slightly pulling down the hem of his shirt and stopping just at his chest where you could feel his heart thump erratically.

Your trace on his skin left sparks flying in your heart and when you had looked up, you knew that Hyunjae was experiencing the same thing.

He was looking down at you, completely speechless and his eyes round in shock. You smiled in triumph, leaning close to one of his reddening ears.

“Then I win.”

And you were heading for the door. But just as you turned around, you could see Hyunjae who was still leaning against the counter, cheeks now red as he stared down at the ground. You giggled, closing the door behind you.

The next time you saw Hyunjae, unsurprisingly, he looked exhausted again. In fact, he didn’t even recognize you at first with how he was gazing off into space rather than unlocking his own door.

“Come over tonight,” You offered.

He raised an eyebrow. “To do what?”

You choked. “Not that. Movie night!” You winked, patting his shoulder before leaving for the grocery store. You made sure to mentally add popcorn to your list.

And so, when it was pitch dark at night, you had opened your door to Hyunjae, fidgeting nervously at the entrance. You laughed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him in.

“Don’t be nervous.” You grinned. “It’s just me.”

As you set up the movie, you couldn’t help but notice Hyunjae looking around your apartment. He seemed to be taking in all of your decorations, and the fact that you had more than one cup and plate. You smiled.

“We can go shopping if you want,” You spoke up. “For your apartment.”

He glanced at you in shock. But he eventually nodded with a small smile, that same one you noticed that he often forced when he was tired and down.

Now sitting on the couch, side-by-side but never quite touching, the two of you watched a movie. It was a comfortable silence and whenever you would glance at Hyunjae, he would notice and turn his attention back to you. And every time you would make eye contact, you made sure to give him a bright smile, one that showed him that “I’m always here for you.”

"Staring?" He teased.

"In fact I am," You replied. "Forget the movie, you're the award-winning feature."

He laughed again. The same bright one at the park.

"I didn't take you to be such a flirter," He remarked.

"I'm not," You refuted. "You really are amazing."

He gave you a smile that wasn't so convincing. "If you say so."

Near the resolution of the film, you found yourself scooching over to him, letting your shoulders touch. But that wasn’t exactly enough, so you lifted his arm so that you could rest your head on his chest, his body warmth easily spreading to yours.

“What are you doing?” He muttered.

For a second, you thought he might actually be annoyed. But, when you looked up, you could see his softening eyes and the slight blush on his cheeks. You huffed in amusement and you only persisted, snuggling close to his chest. Eventually, he gave up on the whole tough act and he let his arm wrap around you, rubbing your arm in up-and-down motions.

You didn’t notice that you had fallen asleep.

Though you did briefly remember two… moments. One of them was him cautiously bringing you to your bed. The other being a warm hand softly caressing your cheek.

You woke up alone. Good! Who else did you expect? Rubbing your eyes, there was a constant sound ringing in your ears. The doorbell, you groaned. Stumbling to the door, you were hoping maybe… Hyunjae? But instead, it was your landlord. You furrowed your eyebrows in concern.

She sighed, shaking her head.

“Bad news.”

When it was Hyunjae this time who had invited you over, you were pleasantly surprised. Opening the door, you could see him sitting at the table, staring intently at his computer.

Tilting your head, you were about to ask what he was looking at. But then he suddenly jumped up, the chair almost falling over. There was a bright smile on his face as he rushed over to you.

“Hyunjae?” You looked at him in confusion.

“I got the job,” He exclaimed. “I got it.”

“You did?” You gasped. “That’s so– that’s amazing! Congratul–” You inhaled sharply when you felt two hands grasp onto your waist. And suddenly, your whole world shifted once you realized that he was literally picking you up and twirling you around. You laughed shyly as you allowed him to, watching fondly at the way he smiled so, so freely.

Once he had slowed down, there was an impending thought in the back of your mind that appeared from all of the adrenaline. He could put you down and you could lean in and maybe… maybe– press your lips to his as an extra cheer. Mentally slapping yourself, you felt your cheeks grow hot. Again, what were you thinking?

His hands were still on your waist, the both of you out of breath. You smiled, giggling softly. He smiled back, his eyes bright and sparkling.

“I’m proud of you,” You finally said.

“It’s all thanks to you,” He replied.

“Hm, well,” You huffed. “Guess who lost their apartment.”

He gaped at you. “What?”

“Not permanently,” You groaned. “But there’s been a technical problem that has to be investigated and fixed. So I can’t stay there for the meantime.”

He looked at you, deep in thought. And then his hands tightened on your waist. “Then stay here with me.”

Now it was your turn to gawk at him. “What?”

“Please.” He smiled. “I owe you.”

You blushed. “I didn’t do much.”

“You did.” He walked forward, nearly caging you against the wall. “Everything. You’ve helped me get this job.” Another step forward. “I’m indebted to you.”

“H-hyunjae,” You stuttered, trying your best to avoid stealing a glance at his lips.

“Just temporarily.”

You made a mental pro and con list. Pros–He was your childhood best friend meaning that he knew you best. Cons–what if things changed? What if you… fell? And you didn’t mean physically.

With a hesitant sigh in defeat, you responded quietly.

“Temporarily.”

When you and Hyunjae had art class together, you learned a little bit more about him. He was always the one who enjoyed the sketching, the outlining with the black pen, and shading in grey. You, on the other hand, were the one who would color in between those lines with vibrant colors, brightening the picture into something truly complete.

That was how you complimented each other. People often painted him out to be cold and blunt, but you always saw past that. It was always you who thought that he was the sweetest person you’ve ever met–the one who took care of you when you were sick and who pulled you away from passing cars.

Just like one of those art projects, you began to liven up his apartment with your own things. Of course, you didn’t bring everything, but the simple pieces of your toothbrush next to his and your coat hung up on the rack, were enough to make the puzzle feel just complete.

Soon enough, the evening came which brought the dilemma of where you would sleep.

“The couch,” Hyunjae spoke up, walking out of the bathroom again, with damp hair. But at least he was fully clothed this time. Still, that vision was practically ingrained into your mind.

“You’re right.” You nodded in agreement. “I’ll–”

“Not you,” He huffed. “Me.”

“Oh,” You breathed out. Abruptly you stood up in defiance. “No!” You blurted out. “That’s rude.”

He looked at you entirely unimpressed. “I’m being a good host. A gentleman.”

“Exactly.” You scowled. “You’re going to make me feel like I’m intruding. And look who invited me in the first place?”

He sighed, glancing at the bedroom door. “There’s only one bed.”

“Then we’ll share,” You replied, completely sure of yourself. Hyunjae didn’t respond so you lifted your chin high and walked past him and into the bedroom as odd as it may sound. However, in the corner of your eye, you could see that his ears were slightly red.

You may have underestimated the sheer awkwardness. Just a bit. Maybe a lot.

The two of you stood on either side of the bed, facing each other, contemplating the fact that this would be the first time you would be sleeping together. Actually, it wasn’t really awkward per se. It was more… hilarious. You pursed your lips, trying to stifle your laughter, while Hyunjae’s cheeks were puffed out in embarrassment.

Again, as the bolder one, you climbed under the sheets first. Still, Hyunjae was just standing, hesitating. You squinted up at him through the darkness.

Even under the dim lighting, you could see that his cheeks were incredibly flushed.

“I think I’ll just go back to the–” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because you were grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down into bed. He didn’t really protest though as you could sense him slowly melting into the warmth of it.

The lamp was off now and you were both succumbed to darkness. It was silent, only the sound of Hyunjae’s calm breathing. You weren’t exactly tired right now. You knew that it would take you a while to fall asleep. But that was fine! You would just wait until he fell asleep first.

Except, when you turned on your side to face him, you could see him staring back, big, round doe eyes on you. So, scratch that. And now you were cold which you weren’t used to. Your apartment was usually the perfect temperature, but this one left you shivering all over.

Unconsciously, you began to shift closer to his body. He’s always been the warm one. That used to be your strategy to not freeze to death when the two of you would walk down the winter festival together.

Suddenly though, you felt an arm across your waist and steady breathing on the side of your neck.

“Hm?” You hummed in confusion, wondering if the chest against your shoulder was just a hallucination.

But then he replied in a quiet, lower voice.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.

Oh, this was more than okay. You were familiar with his embrace. But to feel it just moments before you fell asleep brought a sudden bout of tranquility.

“Perfect.” You smiled to yourself, curling up to his body in which he held you closer in response. It was warm, comforting, just perfect. It didn’t take you a while to fall asleep anymore.

When you awoke, you were slightly—no, very confused about why it was still dark out. You were pretty sure the room should be bright with natural light from the sun. Or maybe you’ve just gone crazy. But that was when you glanced at the time. It was still the middle of the night.

When you turned to your side, that was also when you realized that it was Hyunjae who had woken you up. Unknowingly at that. His arm was still around your waist but this time, his hold was almost painfully tight. If you looked closely, you could see that his eyes were screwed shut, his eyebrows twitching with small stuttering breaths escaping him.

But, you’ve always heard the saying that you weren’t supposed to wake someone up from a nightmare. So you hesitated, keeping your hands close to yourself, worriedly watching. At some point, he jolted awake by himself.

Now, his breathing was even faster and he had shot up, looking around frantically. Blinking your eyes sleepily, you turned on the nearby light and sat up with him.

“Hyunjae?” You whispered, looking him over in concern.

He turned to you in a growing distraught state and he widened his eyes. “Are you–”

“It’s just me,” You muttered. “Bad dream?”

Hyunjae froze for a moment but he slowly nodded. And usually, it was you who initiated the hugs. But this time, he was the one who lunged forward, holding you close to his chest. His hands grasped onto you tightly as he buried his nose into your neck.

With the way he was holding you so tightly, so… desperately, you wondered if this had happened before. But still, you allowed him to just hold you close, your own arms coming around to gently pat his back.

You didn’t know when, but he eventually pulled away. He refused to look you in the eye and so you brought a gentle hand to the side of his face, coaxing him to face you.

“How long has this been going on for?” You frowned.

He shut his eyes. “A while.”

Your heart clenched at his quiet response. For the past few days, you had thought he was feeling better, less exhausted. But behind the bedroom door, it must be different.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off.

“You don’t have to tell me–”

“...what they’re about.”

“Oh,” You breathed. “The nightmares?”

He nodded with tired eyes. “But while I was gone–away from you–people I’ve loved, everything I’ve cherished seemed to disappear before my eyes. It wasn’t just work it was… a lot.” His voice was quiet, hard to hear but it was loud enough that you could hear each and every heart-twisting emotion.

You stayed silent, your hand finding his to stroke the back of it soothingly.

“I felt hopeless.” He frowned. “I guess those nightmares felt like I was reliving that all over again.”

He didn’t say anything after that. You watched him cautiously, wondering what exactly to do. But then you felt his hand tighten on yours slightly and that was your cue to shift even closer.

He glanced at you with an ashamed expression that only made the pit in your stomach drop even more. Slowly, slow enough so that he could back away if he wanted to, you wrapped an arm around him, pulling him close against you. Almost instantly, he was breathing out a low sigh of relief as he nuzzled even further into your embrace.

“You’re not alone anymore,” You whispered. “And… thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

He didn’t say anything, but when he held you back, it was a perfect answer. The two of you stayed like that, in the dead of night, just holding each other until you began to feel drowsy from his warmth. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve done so. The only difference was that it was always you who needed that extra piece of comfort. It was never Hyunjae. Seeing him open up was different but something that you were most grateful for.

“I never replied to you the day we met in the hallway,” He spoke, interrupting your thoughts.

You pondered for a moment, recalling the memory. “When I said that I missed you?”

He nodded. “I didn’t reply because I was afraid you would still be mad at me for leaving you so abruptly.”

You smiled softly and shook your head, your hand coming up to the back of his head to stroke his hair soothingly. His eyes widened slightly in shock but he quickly melted into your touch. “I was angry at first.”

He laughed quietly, though his voice was watery with unfallen tears.

“But now I’m not,” You whispered. “I promise. I’m just happy to see you again.”

He pulled away to look up at you, searching your face to make sure that you were telling the truth. When you only gazed back with utmost sincerity, he let a small smile tug on his lips.

“I missed you,” He had finally replied, answering your statement from before. “More than you know. It was hard without you.”

Your gaze softened once you noticed the sparkle of a few tears in his eyes and when he blinked, your sleeve was immediately coming up to pat his cheek, drying the ones that had broken free.

“I missed you too,” You responded and gently, you were pulling him back into bed. And this time, without hesitation, he was hooking both of his arms around you, tightening you into his chest.

“...so much,” He muttered sleepily. “I missed you so much.”

“You have me now.”

“Always.” And you felt his hand grasp yours, guiding it to where his heart was, thumping in a soothing rhythm. “In here.”

You were the first one to wake up. It seemed that Hyunjae’s nightmare and tears had left him too exhausted to even notice you unwrapping yourself from his protective embrace. And so, you took it as your duty to cook something decent for him to wake up to.

Except maybe Hyunjae did notice because he opened the door shortly after. You probably should have placed a pillow in his arms before you left. He walked out and you had to stop yourself from cooing because that would be a little bit… weird. But you couldn’t help it because the sight of his hair tousled and messy, his eyes barely opened and puffy from the tears, and his lips pouted adorably, left you smiling with endearment.

“Morning sleepyhead.” You grinned, turning the stove on.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he shuffled over to where you were standing behind the kitchen counter.

You tilted your head in amusement, wondering how he managed to navigate with his eyes barely open. “Are you feeling better?”

Again, still no response. You watched as he circled the counter, positioning himself behind you. And then you gasped quietly once you registered the strong arms that enveloped your waist, pulling you into a warm hug, your back now pressed up against his chest. You could even feel his nose nuzzling into the back of your neck, breathing deeply.

You simply just froze, unable to do anything. Once you realized he wasn’t going to move anytime soon, you turned the stove off and simply allowed him to hug you to his heart’s content. He let out a sleepy hum. Or was it a whine?

“You’re clingy in the morning,” You mused.

“Mhm.” Even his morning voice was cute.

And when you said sleepy, you meant it. Literally–you were pretty sure he fell asleep while back-hugging you in the middle of the kitchen. You practically had to hold on to the counter to brace his weight and when you stole a glance over your shoulder, you had to stifle a laugh. His cheek was smushed into your shoulder and his eyes shut in content.

“O–kay,” You heaved, forcing your body to turn around. And still, he would have almost collapsed into you if you hadn’t planted your hands on his shoulders to hold him up. His head lolled to the side as he peeked an eye open to look at you drowsily.

You chuckled and your hand came up to his hair to ruffle it. Immediately, he was leaning into your touch and when your hand traveled down to cup his cheek, he was nuzzling into it like a puppy.

“I missed you,” He slurred, his voice huskier than usual.

“Mm, you said that already,” You hummed teasingly, a smile threatening to spread across your lips. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He smiled lazily.

“You’re acting drunk and it’s like–” You glanced at the clock. “Seven in the morning.”

“And what about it? I missed you,” He grumbled, an adorable frown on his lips.

“Ah,” You sighed, shaking your head. “Go splash water on your face, you dummy. Then you’ll wake up properly.”

He still didn’t budge. And so, using every single ounce of your strength, you had to carry him all the way to the bathroom as he was still clinging onto you like a koala.

After a few minutes, with the sound of the bathroom sink splashing in the background, you finally managed to start cooking something. But then the door clicked open and you looked up. Hyunjae, his eyes finally open, was blushing so hard that you couldn’t even conceal your laugh anymore.

“Missed me?” You remarked.

He winced in response, his cheeks continuing to flame red.

“I don’t know what got into me,” He muttered, refusing to look you in the eye.

You beckoned him over and he finally looked up at you shyly.

“It was cute,” You teased. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“And what else?” He quickly recovered.

Your breath hitched. Ah, you thought. There he was. The usual Hyunjae when he was fully awake. The one who loved to tease you until you were blushing and hiding your face.

“Don’t do this again,” You groaned.

“Do what?”

“That.”

“You’ll have to elaborate on that, sweetheart.”

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, completely unfazed. But when your eyes traveled down, that was when you realized just how close he was. He continued to lean forward until he was caging you against the counter, both of his hands on either side of you. It wasn’t the flirting that got you, it was his body encompassing you so, so effortlessly, making you feel smaller than you really were.

He chuckled. “Cat got your tongue?”

Oh, this is definitely how best friends act. You were one hundred percent sure about that.

He smirked, tilting his chin down, as his hand traveled from the edge of the counter down to your hip.

Fifty percent.

His eyes wandering elsewhere–somewhere along the lines of your lips.

One percent.

“The breakfast is going to burn,” You stuttered.

He simply licked his lips, his gaze fixated on yours.

“I can always try something else.”

You were screwed.

The first day of Hyunjae’s new job was the very last day of your brief vacation from work. With a sigh, you scrolled through the shows and movies, only for you to ultimately turn off the TV in boredom. You weren’t going to beat around the bush and refuse to admit that you felt lonely without him. Of course, you saw him in the morning, already dressed in a suit (that fit amazingly on him, dare you add), but it was only for a short moment.

He still had nightmares but they were becoming less and less frequent. Sometimes, when they happened, you would just pull him closer and he would immediately relax with a small sigh, almost like you had the superpower to eliminate his night terrors.

And sleeping together never was awkward again. In fact, you adequately enjoyed it–his arms around you and vice versa. Did best friends regularly cuddle at night and gaze at each other for so long that your heartbeat started to speed up? That… you weren’t quite sure about.

Yawning, you found yourself lying down, spreading across the couch. You didn’t even do much today yet your eyes still threatened to shut close.

At some point, you blinked your eyelids open once you heard the door unlocking. Sitting up, you smiled softly at the sight of Hyunjae opening the door. His tie was already loose and his hair was blown up from the wind. Squinting your eyes, you then noticed that he was practically stumbling into the entrance, almost like all of his coordination had dissipated.

His eyes were droopy and his lips pouted from what you would guess to be exhaustion. Everyone’s first day of work was like that. You watched as he set down his work bag and walked over to you, very… very slowly.

“How was work?” You questioned, looking up at him.

And just like last time, he didn’t respond. Silently, he leaned forward and literally–very literally–laid on top of you. His body weight pulled you back down to lie on the couch and his arms were snaking around you as his legs tangled with yours. Speechless, you felt as he nuzzled back into your neck, just like he’s begun to do so often now.

“You look gorgeous today,” He whispered, his voice very oddly slurred.

Your breath hitched. “Are you drunk?”

He looked up at that and you practically choked on air once you realized how close his face was to yours. And then he smiled languidly and shook his head.

“Are you sure?” You searched him for any sign–red cheeks, the scent of the alcoholic drink–yet you couldn’t find any.

“I’m just tired,” He mumbled, planting his face back into the crook of your neck.

“Okay,” You laughed. Gently, your hand came up to his broad back to rub it in circles, the material of the suit rough and honestly quite unsatisfying. But still, you persisted once you felt his tense muscles slowly soften. Slowly though, you came to a stop. “Hyunjae.”

“Hm?” He hummed.

“You need to take a shower,” You huffed. “C’mon.” With all of your power, you pushed him up and off you. Again, his head tilted to the side with a tired smile. You laughed and shoved him until he finally obliged and went off to the bathroom.

Meanwhile, you were left there, contemplating his strange behavior. He never acted this clingy before. Not even for the years that you’ve known him. It was only after that particular night that he started to… do this.

When he was done showering, he stepped out. You had hoped that he would be more awake now, but it seemed he was even drowsier than before–too tired to even dry his own hair. With a click of your tongue, you motioned him over to sit down. Like a puppy, his eyes brightened at the sight of you as he obediently followed.

“You’ll catch a cold,” You ridiculed with a worried frown.

After finding a towel, you stepped in between his legs. Carefully, you began to dry his damp hair, marveling at the way his hair curled up after a shower. You rubbed his scalp, making your way around and behind his ears. When you peeked at his expression, you stifled a laugh at the way he basically fell asleep under your touch.

Once you deemed his hair dry enough, you were about to walk away but instead, he abruptly stood up, swaying slightly. And then he fell forward, pulling you into a warm embrace.

You smiled fondly. “Tired?”

It seems that when Hyunjae was tired, he never answered any of your questions, funnily enough. A lot of his answers were just “I missed you” or a small hum. But this… this answer was different. It was spoken so quietly, so softly yet it perfectly resonated through your ears.

“I love you.”

Before you could even say anything or really do anything, he was reluctantly pulling away and heading to the bedroom. Your lips parted as your eyes fixated on absolutely nothing. Just– space. Your whole body had gone rigid as you simply stood there, processing his words. You couldn’t even blink.

Best friends… say that too, don’t they?

It started to become a pattern for the whole first week of his new job. When he was actually fully awake, he told you that the work was demanding yet he never looked so happy and content. Sometimes, you wondered what his past work was like, but you never prodded.

But, because the work was just so demanding, every single day, from Monday to Friday, he came home exhausted. And any person would expect him to just head straight for bed. But like you said, it was a pattern, a usual thing, that he would cling on to you. Apparently, something had shifted in him. Originally, when you saw him exhausted, he would become closed off. But after… that night, he acted almost intoxicated. Not on a drink. But simply off being tired.

You found it endearing actually. His voice was always quieter and he often stumbled over his words this way. His eyes were dazed and soft on yours and he also became ten times heavier as he liked to lay all of his weight on you when he pulled you into a hug. He constantly just seemed to be in a completely different mindset–one that was very… loving and… yeah– different.

He liked to say things too. Slurred and quiet, but he still very clearly said them. You could never figure out if he meant them or if he was just tired and rambling things for the fun of it.

He said “I misssed you” a lot. Occasionally, he would blurt out that you looked pretty or beautiful. Or, it would be a small “hi” accompanied by a shy smile. Sometimes, if he was too tired to say much, he would just giggle over nothing in particular. But… there was one specific phrase that he would say out of the blue.

“I love you.”

That one always left you perplexed. It could be a… platonic thing to say, right? Where did the word “love” come from? You didn’t think much of it, but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of spark of light in the very depths of your heart.

It was weird, really. An out-of-this-world, alien-like thing for a best friend to say. The words I, love, and you arranged in that particular order were never syllables Hyunjae ever let fall from his lips. He never spent any particular ounce of breath to say them.

Yet now he did.

For some odd reason.

But again, he was just tired. Surely.

And just like before, the pattern started all over again. The week was coming to a close so maybe you wouldn’t hear those words again after this. But you didn’t really mind altogether. With a tired sigh, you walked out of the room, now changed out of your work clothes and into something more comfortable.

Right on cue, the main door was unlocking, and once again, the pattern began to unweave itself. He would walk in, with the occasional misstep and stumble. And like usual, he looked tired. Though, you envied his ability to still look… attractive. And then he would look up, search for a particular someone, and do that stupidly lazy smile–the one where his eyes weren’t focused on anything but you.

“What are you doing here?” He giggled–he giggled now, apparently.

You eyed him, completely apathetic. “You let me stay here temporarily, remember?”

He blinked at you with an adorable pout. And then he nodded. “You’re right.” He smiled. “Aren’t you smart?” He pinched your cheek.

Scowling, you wrestled his hands off. And for the first time this week, you finally decided to question his bizarre behavior.

“Why are you acting like this?” You whined, holding him up by his arms so he wouldn’t fall over you like he had done the day before.

“Because I missed you,” He grumbled, his eyes struggling to stay open. “Now let me–”

“Agh,” You groaned. But still, your hands fell to your sides as you let him wrap his arms around your torso, bringing you close to his chest. Whatever made him happy, was your motive. And totally not, I secretly enjoy this.

It was quiet for a few moments, just the sound of his slow breathing against your earlobe. For a minute, you worried that he had fallen asleep already, but he spoke again.

“Have I mentioned how uncomfortable this suit is?” He mumbled. “It’s very hot and–”

You didn’t even say anything. With a sigh–one that wasn’t particularly annoyed, but more… doting–you stepped away. He stared at you in both drowsiness and slight confusion, but his eyes slowly widened once he realized that you were taking off the jacket for him. Gently, you pulled it off his shoulders and down his arms, your eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration.

He was quiet, simply watching as your fingers grasped his tie, unloosening it with a sharp pull, causing him to lurch forward, his lips startlingly close to yours.

“Interesting,” He teasingly remarked, but his voice was still slurred.

“Shut up,” You snapped yet there was no malice behind your tone.

Your hands then came up to his collar, unbuttoning the first few buttons to reveal slightly past his collarbones which… you’ve already accidentally witnessed before. With a friendly pat on his shoulder, you deemed him undressed enough. He slowly turned his gaze to you and your breath hitched at the sight– his work attire now loose with his hair slightly messy… ah. Not to mention, his tilted head and sleepy expression that only made things worse.

Clearing your throat, feeling your cheeks burn, you scrambled off somewhere to shove a change of clothes into his hands and left abruptly, your heart thumping. Soon enough–you didn’t know when because you were busy contemplating all of your feelings and the meaning of life–he walked into the bedroom. Undoing the made bed, you motioned him to climb in. Obediently, he followed and you pulled the blankets over him.

“Y/n,” He muttered, grasping your wrist before you could walk away.

“Hm?”

“...love you,” He whispered.

Again, he was just rambling. He was just saying things. He had stumbled over his words and his voice was quiet, so that meant that he didn’t mean it. He didn’t mean any of it. It was all fake–

“I love you,” He repeated—clearer, louder this time without an inch of hesitation. And this time, he was looking straight up at you, his cheeks slightly pink, flushed.

Maybe it was more real than you had thought.

The first week was over, meaning Hyunjae was more situated at work and most importantly, less exhausted. On the first day of his new, non-intoxicated-on-fatigue persona, he had simply greeted you and strolled past. You wouldn’t admit it fully to him but that simple interaction that did better fit what you guys were–best friends–left you feeling empty inside.

But it was fine. It was just a one-week thing.

Until it wasn’t.

The next day, the pattern appeared again, but it wasn’t… like before.

He was fully awake this time yet he still–

“Hyunjae?” You stammered. The arms wrapped around your waist tightened further as he stood behind you, hooking his chin over your shoulder, and breathing out a low sigh. And now that he was newly… conscious, he did more. His hands began to wander over you in soothing shapes and he pressed his chest further against your back.

“Just stay here with me.”

You could see his soft smile in the corner of your eye. With a bothered huff, you glanced back at him, only for you to inhale sharply at how close he actually was and how… nice his cologne smelt. Oh, and his hands were still wandering.

“I thought you only acted like this when you’re tired?”

He shook his head, shifting even closer, his warmth encompassing you comfortingly.

“Do you want to know something about me?”

“I know a lot about you,” You joked.

But he was quiet, a serious silence befalling the two of you. You gulped and whispered a small “what is it?”

You could hear him huff out in amusement, his hands never failing to leave your waist. “While I was away–when I was at my lowest–I thought of someone all those years.”

And for some reason, you knew exactly what the answer was.

But still, your voice tremored. “Who?”

A squeeze on your waist.

“You.”

Shutting your eyes, you breathed out a shaky sigh and looked down to where he was still hugging you from behind. Your heart was thumping and you were sure he could hear you. And even if he could make out the pounding, he never budged once. Not once did he stop tightening his arms around you and not once did he cease to bury his nose somewhere into your skin, leaving shivers down your spine.

With your heartbeat practically reaching your ears, you nudged him and turned around so that now, you were facing him. Without his dazed, sleepy look, it was just his soft eyes and the slightest tug of his lips, an endeared smile. Without his exhaustion that often left him sluggish, it was just his firm, stronger arms that held you so easily.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered.

“Sweetheart,” He replied, his voice gentle and content. And before, you wouldn’t have paid a single ounce of attention to that nickname because it just seemed like how best friends would fool around. But now… things were different and you weren’t sure how exactly. And so the name sweetheart now left your cheeks flushing.

You swallowed thickly, your breath shortening. “Do you know how much you confuse me?”

His smile only grew. “Elaborate on that.” A pause. “Sweetheart.”

You sighed, biting your lip with mortification. “That. The nickname.”

“Sweetheart? You never said you didn’t like it, I can stop if you want—“

“Don’t!” You rushed to say. You blushed more once you realized he was teasing you again, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Not just the nickname. Everything.”

“Like what?” He stepped closer if that was even possible.

You gazed up at him and you were sure you looked frustrated right now, judging by his fond smile. He always said you looked cute when mad.

“You say that you miss me all the time.”

“Because I do.” He dipped his head lower to look at you with those foolish, puppy-like eyes. “I think of you whenever I’m at work.”

“But,” You exhaled shakily. “Do you realize that you say something else?”

You were sure he wasn’t aware. He didn’t seem to be in the right state of mind whenever he was exhausted. So maybe, he would just stare at you in utter confusion, deny it, and this whole… feeling fiasco would be done and dealt with. But then—

“That I love you?”

Your lips parted in surprise and you peered up at him, wondering if he was just taking a wild guess. But no, the soft, genuine look on his face said it all.

“You… knew?” You stuttered.

“Of course I did,” He chuckled softly. “And I meant every single one.”

Eyebrows furrowing, you stepped backward from shock. As you avoided his eyes, you missed the nervousness and the unsureness that flitted across his face. But, just that one step away left chills down your body–as if being away from Hyunjae and his embrace wasn’t even natural anymore.

And so you stepped forward again. Immediately, you could hear a low sigh of relief escape Hyunjae’s lips and feel his hands snake back around your waist protectively. You weren’t sure what expression was on his face though, as you were very adamant on staring directly at his tie–his chest. You knew that he could still see your reddening cheeks, but you still preferred not to look him in the eye.

“That,” He said quietly. “You’re also quite confusing too.”

“Wh-what?”

“Stepping away and stepping back,” He spoke softly. “Looking me in the eye but refusing to when I say that I love you.” One of his hands left your waist to gently guide your chin up. “So look at me now.”

“I…” You trailed off, feeling yourself go weak just from his soft, loving gaze.

“And one more thing.” He tilted his head teasingly.

A pause. A great moment of silence.

“You don’t say it but you show it.”

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your heart beating like a loud, intense drum.

“I wasn’t completely unaware.” He smirked. His hand had already left your chin and found its place back to your waist, yet you found yourself staring straight into his dark eyes, stuck in a trance. “I know that you dried my hair with a towel–that you even undressed me. I know that you took care of me.”

You did do that all on your own accord, simply because you thought that you were being a perfectly good friend. But now that you thought about it–you didn’t have to. You could have easily pushed him off, and told him to do everything on his own but you didn’t. And it was all because you–

“So tell me then,” He whispered, his voice quiet–only for you to hear, almost like he wanted you all to himself. “What are we?”

You held your breath, your cheeks growing hot. Your hands rested on his chest and you could feel his heart pound, exactly like yours. He felt the same, you realized. With a shaky sigh, you gazed up at him.

“What do you want us to be?”

He hummed, a soft smile on his lips. “What do I want?”

He slightly reworded your question and you wondered why. But you nodded, your eyes studying his features. His handsome features. They were sharp when you had met him in that hallway. But his keen eyes, the angle of his eyebrows, his perpetual frown–they were just soft, soft on you. No longer was there a frown, but just an affectionate smile.

“What do you want?” You repeated his question, your voice hushed to a whisper.

He leaned in, his gaze warm and gentle, his eyes wandering over each and every detail of your face.

“I want to love you.”

You had expected to inhale sharply, gasp maybe–but no. Because everything made sense to you now. His kind words, his soft and fleeting touches across your body, it all pointed to one thing. And so, instead, you smiled shyly.

“Then love me.”

And just like that, his grip on your hips tightened and he turned you around so that your back was facing the door. He was walking you backward until you felt the hard surface against your shoulder blades and he was leaning down, close enough that if he inched further, he would be kissing you. But he didn’t–not yet.

“May I?” He muttered, looking over you with slight concern.

You nodded, embarrassingly with a bit too eagerness. He laughed softly and then he was fitting his lips against yours as your eyes fluttered closed. The press of it was gentle and tender as he tilted your chin up and angled himself so that it was more comfortable. The kiss was unlike any that you’ve experienced before. It was like the tension that had built up before had completely broken down, as you allowed yourself to just fall.

Fall, physically, almost because you felt your knees go weak, with only the door behind you to hold you up. But his hand traveled back down to your waist, hooking you in against his body, keeping you steady as he muffled a groan against your lips. You couldn’t hear anything but his breathing and the thumping of your own heart.

All you could think of was him–how he could so easily change from rough to soft, how he could push forward so quickly but pull away so easily to allow you a gasp of breath, and how he could make your heart pound yet lull it into a steady rhythm of love. He kissed like he could devour you, but if you decided to peek an eye open, you would see his adorably furrowed eyebrows and his flushed cheeks, showing that he wasn’t anything like that.

He was just a man who needed a bit of a sweetener in his life.

With a quiet noise, he pulled away. Immediately, his eyes searched over your features, making sure that you were okay and that he didn’t do too much. But, when you gave him a smile, your eyes flitting nervously, he grinned and leaned in to grant you another soft kiss.

“How long?” You laughed shyly.

“I came to the realization when you tried to cheer me up whenever I was tired. But I think I’ve already felt this way for a while.” He replied. He pinched your cheek again. “All those dates and extra care that you gave me…very cute thing to do.”

Your eyes went wide. “You… noticed?”

“I notice a lot of things, sweetheart,” He teased. “Like how you’re grabbing onto my suit to pull me into a kiss right now.”

“O-oh,” You stammered, letting go of his crumpled collar. “I didn’t realize I–”

He shook his head and before you could finish your sentence, he was cupping your cheek–something that he’s never done before–and guiding you back to his lips. And this time, his tongue swiped against your lip, making you gasp quietly.

“You taste like candy.” His gaze fixated on your lips.

“I didn’t know you could…” You had to stop for a second to catch your breath. And it wasn’t just because of his exceptional kissing, but it was the beat of your heart, of all of your love. “...you could kiss like that.”

“What can I say?” He tilted his head with a teasing look. “I guess I have a sweet tooth.”

“Trust me on this,” Younghoon whined. “I followed the instructions to the very dot. They’ll taste good. Promise.”

You eyed him skeptically but still, you picked up one of the cookies that he had baked. They looked a little… off, but it should be fine. Taking a bite, you took note of the odd texture, and then the taste started to register on your tongue.

You coughed. You choked. And then you threw the cookie back on the plate.

“Bitter,” You gagged. “It’s so bitter.”

“What?” He cried. “Are you kidding me–”

Your eyes lit up once you remembered your boyfriend who was sitting next to you on the couch. He was busy on his computer, doing some sort of work report but you ignored that, turning to him and grasping his collar tightly. You pulled him in, pressing your lips to his, causing him to let out a small “mmph” in surprise.

But almost instantly, he turned into jelly from your touch, a smile growing on his lips as his eyes fluttered close. He had tried to deepen it desperately but you pulled away shortly after, leaving him to chase after your lips adorably.

Younghoon gawked. “I’m right here.”

“So?” You shrugged, smiling innocently. “At least he tastes sweet.”

“Oh my god,” Younghoon mumbled, getting up to throw the cookies into the garbage can.

Meanwhile, Hyunjae was staring at you in a daze, his cheeks flushed. But, he quickly recovered and he was quick to pounce on you, pressing kisses all over you once Younghoon had left.

“A warning next time would be great.”

He was now hovering over you on the couch, caging you under his arms and his computer long forgotten. The position left you flushing but it was also the perfect one to knee him in the stomach.

He winced in pain. "What was that for?"

"A warning, you said," You mocked. "When literally yesterday you kissed me up against a wall in your own workplace."

"That's an exception." He smirked. "You liked it, didn't you?"

"I..." You blushed, remembering the way he had kissed you so fervently, dressed in that suit and tie, the thrill of getting caught still running through your veins. "It was alright."

"Sure, sweetheart," He whispered in a teasing tone. He looked annoying handsome like this, with that amused smile that contrasted his soft, loving gaze. "Then I'll make sure you like this one."

Oh, how you despised him.

And then his lips were on yours again, swallowing up any shy noises that threatened to escape you. But just before he did, he had whispered three quiet words against your lips.

"I love you."

And how you loved him too.

#deoboyznet #yumi 💞 hyunjae #the boyz imagines #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz scenarios #hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #requests 💞#fics 💞

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fics-lovebot · 10 months ago

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the boyz fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

ot11/poly

sunwoo

a hidrance to peace - crack, fluff, you suddenly realize once again that he fucked around with other ppl before meeting you, atrocious tbh HDCLIHFISH i love it, sunwoo gets jealous and its cutee

he´s jealous of juyeon taking selfies on your phone, text au

six-thirty - smut, fwb, possessive!sunwoo, lotss of dirty talking, he need some milk

boyfriend sunwoo is just so :(((((((((((((((((( I LOVE HIM

eric

swing my way - crack, fluff, eric is a young heir with a lot of money and a thing for pretty girl, you just happen to be a pretty girl working at the country club his family partially owns, I LOVE THISSS, it was such a refreshing, fun thing to read. I love the flirting, the gossip, the plot had me smiling the whole time

text au 1, text au 2 - love these

juyeon

running through the rain (for you) -FLUFF, he wanted to be romantic waiting for you under the rain, this made my heart CRY bc why is he so precious?? :( my mf baby

befriend the kitty -fluff, school au, bad boy x good girl trope, strangers to friends to lovers, it´s cute

split it open - smut, juyeon has a big dicc, reader is cock starved lmao, it´s short but it´s hot

classifieds - smut, android!juyeon, dirty talk, love the plot

hyunjae

changmin (Q)

changmin texting his idol crush - text au

a closer look - fluff, changmin doesn´t know what to do when you flirt with him so he´s breaking up with you sjsjdkdjskjd

new

simple gifts - fluff, slow burn, model!chanhee, assistant!reader, he´s soooo in love lmao, his love language is putting you in expensive clothes and accesories, this is such a nice read, not boring at all, love love love loved it

haknyeon

younghoon

kevin

jacob

sangyeon

face sitting - smut, e.r, idol!sang, he lit came in his pants from eating pussy,,, “Use my mouth, make yourself come all over my face.” WHEWW

like that - smut, fluff, another one about sangyeon eating pussy and i´m not even surprised, you know what they say about men with big noses,,,LFHUERIHRL.SUDHF lemme stop

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jvkeh · 2 years ago

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STOCKINGS

“h-how you knew i like these?” he groans, thrusting back into your hole that oozed clear liquid like a broken tap. fuck, he loves your pussy. “fucking hell, gorgeous.” his hand moved down from your back to your thighs, bunching the black sheer fabric in his hand and pulling it back, only to let go and snap at your skin.

you groaned at the feeling, your leg burning. “fuck.” you whined out, before being faced with a slap to the ass. “no bad language, angel.” hypocrite. “sorry- knew you like these when i caught you staring at my legs in them the other day.” you mumbled, brain foggy as the thoughts of him staring at your legs in stockings.

“goddamn, baby. your intuitions are right.” he smirks as his hand leaves your leg and goes back to it’s rightful place, your cunt. he prods at your folds, pinching them in the right place to stimulate you further, like his cock being rammed in and out wasn’t already making you cum three times. your boyfriend was never this animalistic during sex, but clearly the black stockings were affecting him enough to bend you over on your office desk. he could barely see it too, as you wore knee high boots to mantain appropriateness. but at his request, you kicked them off as with the rest of your clothes, leaving only your bra and some black knee high stockings.

“i predict that you’re gonna eat me out and make me squirt.” you reply playfully, earning laughter from behind. you wished you weren’t on your hands and knees facing forward the door, the sight of your pantless smiling boyfriend driving you crazy. “wow baby, how did you knew?” he replies, before leaning over until his lips attached itself to your cunt, sucking up all the cum that exited you. wrapping his arms around your legs, your back arches at the warm sensation.

“god.” you squeal as he begins to lap up your juices, his tongue reaching places that no one else could. “o-oh right there!” your cheeks flared as you realised you were in your office and not at home, thus you had to mantain silence. with the way he was going at your cunt, devouring it like a burger combo,

it wasn’t long before you could reach your high, a stifled cry exiting your lips as you felt yourself physically squirting. you slowly humped the desk, drooling over your workspace as he continued to suck and bite on your clit. “thank you-thank you baby!”

you felt yourself being pulled back by a leg towards your boyfriend as he grabbed your waist and lifted you, effectively moving you around to face him. his face was flushed pink, and somewhere along your ministrations, he removed his shirt and was both shirtless and pantless. his abs gleamed with sweat, and his arms tightened around your waist as he glanced back at your cunt, continuing to drool on the desk despite the fact he drunk you up like he had severe dehydration.

“next time, wear stockings and nothing else, alright?” he jokes, earning a punch to the stomach. “hey!”

— inspired by: juyeon, wonwoo, younghoon, taehyun & to all the quiet guys with a kinky public sex streak

taglist: @enhacolor @duolingofanaccount

#jvkeh #seventeen smut #txt smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #svt smut #enhypen smut #enha smut #kpop smut

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lovewoonahyuck · 10 months ago

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[20:56] ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏɴɢ-ʜᴡᴀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ɢɪʀʟ

PAIRING: Jung Wooyoung x F!reader

GENRE: Fluff fluff fluff!!!

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SYNOPSIS: Although your two sons were the lights of Wooyoung's life, you knew he always wanted a little girl for himself. What if his wishes finally came true..?

Jung Younghoon - 6 | Jung Min-jae - 4 | Jung Yong-hwa - fetus

It was the night, well a certainly special night - your husband's birthday. Well not just that but also, you had decided it would be perfect to have your gender reveal party just a month before your due date. And Wooyoung's birthday just seemed perfect.

You had rented out an elegant resort for the event, the whole garden was filled with beautiful different types of lights illuminating across the place. You had dressed yourself in a flexible pink dress, your huge bump popping out just like your husband loved it. All while he wore a hoodie which was the same colour as yours – pink – the reason was simple: Wooyoung was set that his third child would be a girl, due to which he had picked out and bought you a baby pink coloured dress too.

You knew Wooyoung loved your two sons more than anything in this whole world, they were the reason for his everything at this point – from waking up in the morning to make breakfast for them to going out of his way every time he was on tour to buy them disgustingly expensive clothes and toys – which he shrugged it off saying “They needed it.”

But his heart always longed for having an adorable baby girl, you knew Wooyoung always wanted a girl ever since you had first got pregnant. And after seeing one of his members – Jongho – have a girl too, his heart ached harder for a baby girl.

«“Mama! Look!”» You're pulled out of your thoughts, when your four-year old, Min-jae calls out for you. San had seated himself on the ground, a big bubble wand in his hand while his daughter and your son played with the bubbles. You smile heartwarmingly at your son when you feel a familiar hand intertwine with yours which were on your lap. «“You think it will be a girl?”»

Your head snaps towards your husband who took a seat next to you, «“Of course! You dressed us up in pink, Woo. And don't forget the amount of times you've kept telling me it's a girl during the whole pregnancy, and I believe in your gut.”» You say with a big smile on your face, chuckling as you remembered how he used to speak to your bump as if he knew it was a girl.

«“I mean, it could be a boy-”» Before he could continue his sentence you cut him off by pressing your lips over his. Just before you pull away, you feel his plumpy lips stretch in a smile. «“Stop overthinking, birthday boy, how about we cut the cake, now?”»

Wooyoung could only nod, but just as you were about to stand up from your seat, he leaned his face closer to yours, bringing your nose closer to his own. He nuzzled the tip of his nose against yours and you immediately burst out chuckling, knowing well he would do this.

Wooyoung had found odd comfort in doing that, and seeing that bright smile on his face, you had a relief every time he did that too.

Your husband held the knife in his hand, keeping it far away from your bump while his other hand held your waist. «“Ya! Jung Wooyoung, just cut the cake already, we're way too excited!”» Hongjoong's exclaim made a fit of giggles and laugh erupt through the little crowd.

«“Should we do a countdown?”» Yunho, who had dressed himself in pink from head to toe, suggested making everyone nod at the idea.

You noticed how Wooyoung's hand noticeably got shaky at every count, and immediately let your comparably small hand cover his, in order to soothe his nerves.

3! «“Ready?”»

2! «“Fuck yea!”»

1! It almost felt like time had stopped when you cut through the cake to be met with the sight of a pink coloured bread with pink cream and sparkles.

Loud cheers erupt from everyone and you are immediately pulled into Wooyoung's embrace. You look up at him to find tiny tears rolling down the corner of his eyes. «“I'm so happy, I-I can't explain it”» You tip-toe to press your lips against his skin as you kiss his tears away. «“Me too, Baby!”»

Your hug is soon joined by your toddlers, and you swiftly break-free from the hold. «“Mama! Appa! We're having a younger sister.”» Young-hoon exclaims in happiness, and Wooyoung is swiftly on his knees next to them. He immediately pulls them into a bear-hug, squishing them in his arms.

«“How about we go shopping for the baby's nursery tomorrow? We can get you your favourite toys you've wanted so badly too.”» As soon as your husband finishes his sentence, his request is replied with a loud series of ‘Yesyesyes’.

«“I can only imagine how much he's going to spoil this girl.”» Yunho speaks up behind you, while you had chosen to stand there to admire your little family. Your head perks up to look at the tall man next to you, «“You mean, Jung Yong-hwa?”»

You give him a sheepish smile as his eyes widen, «“Oh my god, you little shits have already picked out a name?”» You give him a small nod before adding, «“Keep it a secret though, I don't want anyone knowing, especially Hoon and Jae”» You say threateningly, for which Yunho winks at you, as he replied, «“I know how to keep secrets Y/n. For a fact, I knew the gender a day before.”»

You gasp in surprise at that, finally knowing why he was so confident it was a girl. «“Jeong Yunho, you-”» «“Mama!”» You look at the direction from where the sound had come from. And you find your six-year old beckoning you towards him. «“Alright, mama duty is on.”» Yunho jokes before going away, giving you your space.

«“Appa! What will we name the baby?”» «“When will we decorate her room?”» Your sons threw questions at your husband, who was gladly answering them all, while taking them back to their respective rooms in your house. You follow behind them, folding your arms over your bump while you stand at their doorway, leaning against the frame.

«“Mama! Can we say goodnight to the baby?”» Your six-year old asks, causing the other two to look back at your figure. «“Of course, my babies! Come closer.”» and soon three pairs of feet were running towards you, and little giggles filled the room.

«“Goodnight- whatever your name is, I hope you sleep well!”» You let out a snort followed by your husband's loud laugh at Min-jae's words. You did feel quite guilty for hiding the name from your precious sons, but unfortunately they had inherited their awful secret-keeping skills from their father.

Your sons were fast asleep when you and Wooyoung were back in your room. You were seated snuggly on his lap, with your head resting against his chest while your eyes stayed on the sight which was blessed to you by the huge glass windows. Wooyoung’s hand stayed Protectively on your bump. «“I love you so much, princess.”»

He whispers soothingly into your ear, his nose nuzzling against the crown of your head. «“Well you're going to have another princess, now”» You chuckle slightly, while leaning forward to peck his jaw. «“And I can't wait to see my other princess, too. I can't wait to give her the same amount of love and spoil her. Our little Jung Yong-hwa.”»

«“Woo”» after a few seconds of settled silence, you call out to him, to which he hums back softly. «“You think we're cruel for hiding the name from Hoon and Jae?”» You ask, to which he hums softly, before saying. «“But I'm sure they would love the name we picked out for their baby sister.”»

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez dad imagines #ateez imagines #dad! ateez imagine #dad! ateez imagines #dad! ateez x reader #dad! wooyoung #dad! ateez #wooyoung x reader fluff #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung

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daisyvisions · 11 months ago

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Between the Lines - (c.ch)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: roommate!Chanhee x afab!reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: In which Chanhee finds a book on your bed as he goes inside your bedroom. And what he finds inside the book sparks something deep within his soul that he HAS to confront you about it.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.1K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), enemies to lovers (implied), mean!Chanhee (but secretly sweet), fingering, edging, hair pulling, marking, rough sex, unprotected sex (but he pulls out), calls reader princess a lot (but says slut once), brief aftercare, some manhandling if you squint. Mentions of making out and being watched. A very whiney Younghoon makes an appearance. Proofread twice. Let me know if I missed anything! Bolded lines were smut prompts used from this list.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: My late birthday gift to my lovely moot @ilovechanhee and a treat for all the Chanhee stans! Been so stuck in a rut but thank god I found the inspiration and motivation to write this out. Something different but was totally fun to write! (wow look at that, a fic that doesn’t involve creampies hahah)

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network & Tag: @deoboyznet

You never should've said yes. Especially when Younghoon was on his knees begging for his life like he’d never done before.

“Please let him stay…” Younghoon looks up at you as he hugs your legs.

“And what makes you think I want him here?!” You try to push him away.

“Just give him a few months and he’ll be out of here in no time.”

“The answer is no-” You try to wiggle your way out of Younghoon’s embrace but his arms wrap around your legs tighter, nearly making you trip over him.

“He has nowhere else to go. Please he’s my friend!”

“And I’m also your friend! And I said no!”

“He’ll stay in my room the entire time and I'll tell him to be out of your way I swear! Please let him stay with us…” He pleads like his life depended on it.

You’ve never heard Younghoon sound like this, not even when he’s drunk out of his mind (which you’ve witnessed quite often). But when he’s looking up at you with those cute baby boy eyes, how could you say no?

And that’s how you ended up becoming roommates with the person you hate the most in this world… Choi Chanhee.

Contrary to what everyone believes, there was a time where you did like actually Chanhee. A time wherein you wanted become his friend. But it seemed like every time you tried to interact with Chanhee, he wanted nothing to do with you.

Always giving you the cold shoulder, rolling his eyes, making snarky remarks, and etc. That’s how the whole rift between you two started.

Every hangout you guys would have, you two would never stop bickering. It was annoying to everyone at first but eventually it became background noise. Just letting you two argue it out until you both started getting tired.

Arguments between you and Chanhee would get incredibly heated especially when he was invited to come over to the apartment that you shared with Younghoon.

He would just come barging in your room unannounced just to annoy the living shit out of you. Commenting about your boring life since you’re cooped up in your room all day or whatever pajamas you decided to wear that night were worn “just for him”.

Even when you’d walk into the kitchen to get some water you could feel his stare burning right through you as he slowly ate whatever snack he had in his hand. The way his smirk would make you feel something weird bubbling in your stomach. But you would push down that feeling deep within and continue to ignore him as he kept on staring.

“C’mon princess, don’t act like you hate having me here…” Chanhee would tease. And on cue, you’d roll your eyes at him and talk back before walking back to your room.

It was already bad enough that this was the usual routine you two had with one another while he was a guest in your home. But to have him as roommate for nine months? It was going to drive you to the point of insanity.

You should’ve never fell for Younghoon’s pleading eyes. Because now everything Chanhee did to annoy you was a hundred times worse than you could ever imagine.

Hogging the shower when he knew you’d be late for work. Waking you up way too early when he’d blast his music as he was cooking. Seeing him make out with some stranger on the couch as you got home, keeping his gaze on you as his neck was being kissed.

The list goes on.

You started hating him more and more as each day passed, wishing he would just leave you alone. However, a part of you secretly liked the way he would give you some sort of attention. Even if it was the kind of attention that made your head ache, it was still better than nothing right?

But you would rather drown in a lake than admit that to anyone… especially to him.

“Y/n! Your turn to use the washing machine! Hurry up already!” Chanhee calls for you from the living room. He lets out a big sigh before making his way into your room, wondering what the hell was taking you so long to respond to him.

As soon as he swings your door open, he doesn’t find you in your usual spot on the bed. He does notice however, the book you’ve been reading during the past few days lying open. He walks towards the book, grabbing it to see what had been so special about it.

You do nothing but stick your nose into the pages, so hyper focused on the story that you don’t even pay attention to him like you usually do (which would make him huff out of frustration.)

“Fucking nerd.” Chanhee mumbles to himself as he inspects the book cover before reading into the page you had stopped on.

As he carefully reads each sentence, his eyes grow wider and a smirk starts to form on his lips. His smile slowly becoming similar to that of the Grinch during Christmas.

“Oh she is so dead.”

You turn the shower knob off before stepping out, grabbing your towel to wipe off a few extra drops of water on your body and squeezing the water out of your hair before you wrap the towel around your body.

As you make your way back to your room, you yelp in surprise. Clutching onto your towel from unfastening as you see Chanhee sitting at the edge of your bed reading the book that you left behind.

Oh god… the book.

“I gotta say princess… you keep on finding ways to surprise me.” Chanhee smiles while his eyes stay glued on the page he’s reading.

You walk quickly towards the edge of your bed, one hand still clutching onto your towel as your free hand attempts to reach out for the book in Chanhee’s hands.

“Give that back!” You exclaim.

But Chanhee’s movements are much faster than yours. He holds the book far away from your reach, holding your waist with one hand while you inserted yourself between his legs and attempted to grab the book.

“Not so fast now, I was getting to the part where the knight takes the princess against the wall of a hallway.”

‘We can’t. Someone might see us.’ the princess gasps.

‘And what if I want them to see us?’ The knight inserts his thigh between her legs, pinning her wrists above her head as he leaves tender kisses on her neck.

‘Let them see how good I make you feel’ He whispers into her mouth.

Your cheeks turn bright red as Chanhee reads the excerpt from your book out loud.

“Chanhee, please!” You tip-toe to try and reach for the book.

“Fuck- Can’t believe this is the kind of stuff you read. Who would’ve known you’d be such a dirty little thing?” He looks up and smiles at you.

“Chanhee I swear to god if you don’t give me my book back and get out of this room I’ll-ah!”

You squeal as Chanhee pulls your wrist towards him, accidentally landing on his lap before he quickly flips you under his figure. He grips your wrists and pins them onto the mattress, the book way beyond your reach now.

“And you’ll do what? Hm? Gonna make me fuck you like the characters in your porno book?” He raises his eyebrow.

“Huh? No! That’s not what I-”

“Because that’s exactly what I want to do to you…” He looks at you dead in the eye. His eyes blown out and full of lust.

“What?” Your eyes widen. Did he really just say that to you?

“Not gonna lie princess, I’ve thought about this moment for so long.” Chanhee lowers his head, lightly brushing his lips against your cheek before whispering in your ear,

“You drive me so insane, you don’t even know.”

You feel your spine shiver with how his voice deepens one octave lower. Feeling your core slowly dampen as you clench your thighs together. And Chanhee notices your movements too.

He slightly pulls his head away, the tip of his nose lightly kissing yours. His breath fanning against your lips in the process.

“How about we make those scenes in your book come to life?”

“C’mon now, beg for it princess.” Chanhee taunts. He had been pumping his long fingers inside you for what felt like hours. His lips leaving marks all over your breasts as you sweetly moan for him.

Every time you’d get closer to the edge, he would immediately pulls his fingers out of your wet hole. Tears would form at the corners of your eyes every time he would deprive you of your sweet release.

“I-ah! I have been begging! Please Chanhee-” You whine out.

You feel your orgasm fast approaching as your walls tighten around his fingers once more.

“You want to cum?”

“Y-yes, I— please—”

“Hm, but do you really deserve to?”

“Please, I’ve been good. Really good! Please- wanna cum so bad!” You desperately beg.

“Yeah? Want your greedy cunt cumming all over my fingers?” Chanhee asks as he vigorously pumps his digits inside you. You nod your head rapidly in response, feeling your orgasm just teetering at the edge.

But before you’re about to let go, he pulls his fingers out of you.

“No! Wait-” You cry out.

“Shh…” Chanhee presses his wet finger against your lips. “Want you to cum around my cock instead.”

Before you can even respond he flips you onto your stomach, spreading your legs apart as he inserts himself between. He hastily pulls out his aching member from his boxers and aligns himself against your wet pussy before pushing his entire length inside you.

“Holy shit- you’re way tighter than I thought you’d be-” Chanhee groans as he pulls your hair and begins to rapidly pound himself into you.

You want to tell him to fuck you harder, but all the words die in your throat as you start to babble out incoherent sounds instead. You mind becoming foggy from all the edging earlier and the way his cock drags inside your velvety walls.

Chanhee pushes your face into the mattress, pressing his entire weight on top of you to lock you in place.

“Keep it down. You wouldn’t want our dear roommate finding out about what I’m doing to you right? Or are you such a slut you’d let him watch me fuck you til you can’t walk?”

You let out a whined moan, shaking your head instead of giving him a proper answer.

“Good. Now cum for me princess!”

And like clockwork you do. Gushing all over his member as you moan into your mattress, muffling the lewd sounds coming out of your mouth as much as possible. Chanhee follows after you, quickly pulling out and shooting his load all over your back as he deeply grunts.

You feel like you're floating on a cloud as the pleasure slowly subsides. Trying to catch your breath as you try to calm your senses from feeling too overwhelmed by everything that had happened tonight.

But you’re suddenly pulled out of your trance as soon as you feel sensitive from your core being wiped with a warm towel. Chanhee continues to wipe away his spend on your back and slowly flip you onto your back and wrap your towel around your body again.

“You okay?” Chanhee checks on you as he brushes the loose hair from your face.

“Yeah, I think so. T-thank you by the way…” You awkwardly reply.

Chanhee chuckles, amused by how cute you’ve become again even after he fucked your brains out just moments ago. You watch him as he adjust his clothes, your eyebrows knitting in confusion as you see him making his way to the door.

“W-where are you going?” You innocently ask.

Chanhee turns around and smiles at the way you pout. He walks back to you and leans down to give you a soft kiss on your lips.

“Gotta continue with the chores princess. Some of us actually do our chores remember?” He smiles, playfully teasing you.

He walks back to the door, before he completely heads out of your room his head pops back in,

“And by the way, if you ever need to reenact more scenes… I’m just a few feet away.”

#deoboyznet #choi chanhee #chanhee #chanhee smut #tbz smut #tbz fics #tbz scenarios #tbz #tbz hard hours #the boyz drabbles #the boyz hard hours #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fic #the boyz smut #kpop smut #the boyz fanfic

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juyeonszn · 11 months ago

Text

(NO) STRINGS ATTACHED

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 5.58k

GENRES smut ﹒angst ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, strangers to fwb to lovers, a few timeskips here and there, hyunjae is a manwhore but what else is new, he’s also a criminal justice major so, mentions of alcohol, mentions of roblox? idk, reader is lowkey horny as hell 😭, handjob, oral (m!receiving), mentions of sex in various places, hyunjae is an emotionally constipated idiot, juyeon appearance crowd cheered, also cha eunwoo appearance but crowd did not cheer, hyunjae goes through the five stages of grief, no foreplay but what can u do about it, marking, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap u know the drill), cowgirl position yeehaw, creampie yeehaw, little bit of cockwarming st the end ngl

SUMMARY becoming friends with lee hyunjae after his valiant attempt to save your life (stopping you from drunk driving) was certainly not on your year’s bingo card. also not on your bingo card? waking up in his bed every other night following, but it’s not like you’re really complaining.

MORE bruh. first of all. i’m so sorry this is so late. 😭 second of all, NOT ONLY IS IT A DAY LATE, BUT ITS ALSO LIKE AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE 😭 my time management was not all there this past weekend, and also due to some unfortunate decisions on my part, this fic was delayed a bunch but WE ARE SO BACK pls. i hope u all enjoy this bc i kinda hate it and im sad bc i was so excited for it and its nothing like how i wanted it to be… pls rb if u liked it 😿 also this is lowkey for izzy bc we’re both going through insane hyunjae brainrot rn..

SERIES MASTERLIST

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr

TAGLIST @millksea @from-izzy

In Hyunjae’s defense, he didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

When the two of you first met, he really was just trying to be a gentleman. He’d always been raised as someone who should do the right thing without expecting anything in return. He prided himself on sticking by his mother’s lifelong wisdom.

Okay sure, he might’ve had a few slip ups here and there in the form of random girls he’s hooked up with, but could you blame him? He was a university criminal justice major after all. There’s no harm in a little one-night-stand fun. Learning the ins and outs of the world of law and order was soul-draining enough without the freedom to stress-relieve whenever he felt fit.

Right. Back to you.

Your first encounter took place at the Tau Beta Zeta end of semester party. The fraternity had been working towards securing their victory against the KAT sorority just so they could host the damn thing. Hyunjae had yet to find a girl to entice him for the night, instead bothering some of his frat brothers. For example, Jacob Bae, who had just won the IST University boys’ volleyball team a championship title.

He could’ve gone after Lee Haeun, Jacob’s ex, but he had higher standards than that. There was also the incident earlier that day, while setting up for the party. He tried making a move on the KAT president to piss off Sangyeon, but that ended up failing. Honestly, he didn’t even care much about sleeping with anyone at these things anyways. Usually pretty girls came up to him first, but then ghosted him once they realized he wasn’t looking for anything serious. That was the only reason why his rap sheet was so long. He’d never intended on being the resident fuckboy.

Hyunjae remembers spotting you across the room during one of the numerous rounds of beer pong that night. Rather than Juyeon refereeing with Younghoon like they normally did, he stepped in to let the younger male enjoy the party with his girlfriend. The current match-up was Sunwoo versus Changmin with their respective partners. He had glanced up after witnessing the soccer prodigy miss a cup, making eye contact with you accidentally.

You tucked some hair behind your ear, bringing your drink to your lips and taking a sip before looking away. Your friends had sucked you back into the conversation you were having, effectively blocking Hyunjae’s chance to shoot any shots. He quickly got over it upon witnessing Changmin and Sunwoo arguing over the game, egging them on like the instigator he was.

Most people would’ve thought that was the end of it. Just a fleeting glance at each other, dozens of people standing between you. In hindsight, Hyunjae partially wishes that was where your story ended. You would’ve just been another girl to him, a stranger he saw once and never ran into again.

It’s funny how the universe works in strange ways.

By two in the morning, when over half of the partygoers had left the TBZ house, Hyunjae felt his social battery reach empty. He woke up earlier that morning to study for his Victimology final and felt drained by the time he walked out of the lecture hall. (He knew he aced it, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t mentally taxing.) He was just about ready to call it a night when he saw you sitting on the bottom step of the stairs, blubbering into your phone about something.

“What do you mean you left?” You wail, cheeks stained with mascara streaks. “I don’t care about your boyfriend! I’m too drunk to drive home and you were supposed to be my D.D.”

Your words are slightly slurred, a hiccup following your last sentence. Damn, you were cute even when you were crying like a baby. Hyunjae observed as you argued with who he assumed to be your friend over the phone, exasperated by the end of it. Despite not knowing a single thing about you, not even your name, he decided to step in and offer aid.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard you saying you’re too drunk to drive yourself, and as a TBZ member I just can’t let that happen,” he extended a hand to you. “I’d be more than willing to let you stay here until the morning, if you’d like. You can have my room and I’ll just crash in one of the others.”

Your lower lip quivered, as if you were on the verge of even more tears. You sniffle when you respond, eyes doe-like and glassy. “R-Really? You would do that f-for me?”

“It’s a better alternative than taking a rideshare home alone while drunk,” he nods. “And I’m definitely not letting you drive anywhere yourself.”

Hyunjae doesn’t know why he felt so protective over you. The thought of some potentially creepy man taking advantage of you because you were under the influence didn’t sit right with him. He poked his cheek with his tongue, hand still outstretched to you. You took it gently, allowing him to guide you to his bedroom. He grabbed some of his clothes so you could be comfier and gave you a washcloth so you wouldn’t go to be with your makeup on. He felt better knowing you were in the safety of his fraternity house rather than anywhere else. It kind of pissed him off that your friends would leave you to fend for yourself like that.

The next morning, you came down the stairs drowning in Hyunjae’s clothes, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. You held the heel of your palm to your temple, wincing from the headache no doubtedly caused by your hangover. It was around 11 AM when you woke up and most, if not all, of his frat brothers had already left to head home for the holidays.

You found your knight in shining armor sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a mug with the default male Roblox face in his grasp. He was scrolling through his phone mindlessly, taking sips of his coffee every now and then until he heard you. He spins around in his chair, offering you a warm smile.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you rest okay?” He asks, getting up to grab you your own mug.

Your cheeks burn up at the nickname. The whole situation is still a bit odd to you. You knew of Lee Hyunjae through the grapevine (every other girl at your school), yes, but you’ve never held an actual conversation with him before. And now here you are, taking shelter in his home and sleeping in his bed. It was sweet of him to be so hospitable, though. He could’ve kicked you out and pretended you didn’t exist.

“That’s probably the best I’ve ever slept in my life,” you laugh to cut through the tension. “Thank you for keeping me alive last night. I feel indebted to you forever.”

“It was no problem, at all. My pleasure, actually,” he grins, passing you a mug filled with fresh coffee. “By the way, I never got your name.”

“It’s Y/N,” you tell him, mouth pulling into a smile at the cup he just gave you, which happened to be the female adjacent to his. “Hyunjae, right?”

He doesn’t know if he should be embarrassed by the fact that you already knew his name or not, but given his previous reputation, he thinks it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. He clears his throat and nods as he drinks more of his coffee. He tries to distract himself from the weird feeling bubbling in his chest with how cute you looked in his clothes.

“Do you not have any plans for the break?” You switch the subject, noticing that the house was empty for the most part.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I’m from here, so it isn’t really much of a drive to visit home. I’ll go over on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Years but that’s about it. Other than that, I like to enjoy having the whole house to myself.”

“Woah, me too! My friends are all from out of town though, so I’m usually really lonely. It’s always so odd thinking about how this is just a stepping stone for people’s lives and I’ve been here all of mine.” You stir some cream and sugar into your coffee, pursing your lips. “So, I take it you’re not doing anything today?”

“Nothing. Zip. Zilch. Nada,” Hyunjae leans back in his chair. “I’ll probably just watch some movies and call it a day. What about you? Any plans for the break since all of your friends are gone?”

“I have just as many as you.” You sip on your beverage.

“Well, the couch space next to me will be unoccupied if you’d like to join me.”

“I think I might take you up on that offer.”

You feel like maybe this was some sort of elaborate scheme to trap you. Your eyes kept flickering from the TV to his profile, entranced by the blue light illuminating his features. You wanted nothing more than to claim your seat on his lap and ride him into the sunset like a gallant steed, which was ironic considering the way the two of you met.

It’s in the middle of the third movie that you finally feel yourself grow restless. No way could you sit beside Lee Hyunjae, spend the whole day with him, and not jump his bones. It was, like, the most obvious thing to do. It was Lee Hyunjae. Did he expect you not to?

He feels you squirming next to him, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. In all honesty, he’s surprised he’s abstained from touching you this long. From the moment he saw you in his clothes this morning, he wanted you underneath him. He doesn’t know how to initiate anything without seeming too forward though.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to make much effort on his part.

You place one of your hands on his thigh, dragging your nail along the seam of his sweatpants. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. All you can do is bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

“You know, Hyunjae, I never got to properly thank you for your act of nobility last night,” you start, fingers creeping up higher. “And I just thought of something that I think we’ll both like.”

He doesn’t have the strength in him to restrain himself after that, pulling you into a heated kiss. He nips at your lower lip and tangles his tongue with your own, getting easily lost in the spellbinding of your touch. Your lips trail along his jaw and down his neck, hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants. You suck deep marks into the skin of his pulse point while simultaneously palming him through his underwear.

You’re moving fast, but you’re on a mission. You’ve been waiting for this all day, you can’t imagine slowing down now. It doesn’t appear that he plans on stopping you either.

Hyunjae throws his head back, hissing when you discard his boxers. The cool air of the house hits his cock at the same time you bite down on the divot where his neck meets his shoulder. Your hand gently wraps around his length, thumb running over the slit to collect the precum that’s formed there. He watches in a trance as you go on your knees between his legs.

You press a sweet kiss to his tip before taking him into your mouth. He groans, twisting your hair around his wrist so he can control your movements. Hyunjae doesn’t think he’s ever wanted head this badly in his life. He’s always been a giving person, always providing the pleasure for the girl he was with. There were only a handful of times that he’s ever been on the receiving end and none of them were memorable. But this time is different.

For some reason, you’re the only one who’s ever been able to get him this riled up this quickly. You’re still relatively a stranger to him, and even though he’s had plenty of one night stands, it’s unlike any of the others.

Your throat relaxes so you can swallow more of him, tongue swirling around the tip. He’s the biggest guy you’ve ever been with, making things a little harder for you, but you were never one to back down from a challenge. And getting Lee Hyunjae to cum from the work of your mouth alone was the ultimate reward.

Hyunjae moans when your attention focuses on his sensitive slit. The sound is music to your ears, goading you into continuing your task. You gag around his dick and tears prick at your eyes when he pushes your face down further, your nose brushing the lower part of his abdomen. One of your hands wanders, tracing and scratching his abs as the other jerks him off.

He swipes away some stray tears with his thumb, bucking into your mouth and hand. “Fucking look at you, taking me like a good girl. You’re so filthy.”

You whine, squeezing your thighs together for your own friction. You can wait, though, entirely too focused on getting him to finish. You’re thankful it isn’t that much longer until he does, painting your lips and cheeks with his release when you pull off of him to press a cute kiss on the same spot. He knows he finished too fast for someone of his caliber, but he doesn’t have it in him to care.

“You’re so hot,” he brings you up to connect your lips once again.

It was very easy to fall into a habit after that.

Throughout the entirety of the break, Hyunjae would call you over or vice versa and you’d rock each other’s world’s. It was practically an entire month of fucking nonstop. You’d done it in the TBZ house living room, in his bed, in the kitchen, in the shower and every other surface you could think of. Your own apartment had been christened plenty with your sexcapades also. Both of your cars had seen you naked too. But the most memorable place had to be his childhood bedroom the night of Christmas. He went to his parents’ for a couple days and hit you with that 3 AM “You up?” text when his libido couldn’t quell. That was probably the quietest you’d ever have to be.

Hyunjae had to explain to his mom that no, he hadn’t gotten mauled by a wild animal in his sleep. It was harder coming up with another plausible lie to cover the source of the hickeys on his neck, but he’d rather tell his mother something stupid than the fact that he was an insatiable freak.

When it came time for everyone to return to school for the spring semester, you’d deluded yourself into thinking there could be something real between you and Hyunjae. I mean, what else were you supposed to do? This gorgeous man had spent almost every single day of winter break with you, even if it was mostly for the sex. That wasn’t all you did though. You shared meals together and talked about your life goals. You truly got to know him better than just the hot frat guy who’s made his rounds with girls on campus.

However, Hyunjae did not think he was ready for that level of commitment.

After spending a month with you and learning all of your little quirks, he thought he was going insane. He’d been in situationships in the past and none of them ever ended well, especially because they always caught feelings. He didn’t want the two of you to fall down the same path. But he noticed the linger of your touches and kisses and the way your eyes sparkled when he spoke. He didn’t want to be the one to break your heart.

He just couldn’t see himself getting into a serious relationship. He was preparing to apply for law schools and get his shit together. He didn’t think he couldn’t handle throwing a girlfriend into the mix. Even if it was you. Bold, pretty little you, who had Lee Hyunjae wrapped around her finger without trying.

Things come to a speeding halt for both of you halfway into the second week back.

Hyunjae was walking out of his Crime Mapping II lecture when he saw you chatting up Cha Eunwoo outside of the building, giggling and being all touchy with him. He doesn’t know why he feels so… stuffy… when he sees that. He doesn’t know why it makes him mad. He doesn’t know why it feels like his heart has just been stomped on a handful of times.

He walks over to you and clears his throat, hands shoving into his jacket pockets. He tries to ignore how cute you look in your puffer coat, nose rosy from the cold. You pause in your conversation to say hi to him before resuming whatever you were saying before. It was like he was invisible.

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” You tuck some hair behind your ear, smiling at the male.

“For sure. Talk to you later, Y/N.” He says, waving as he takes off.

Hyunjae starts in the opposite direction wordlessly, leaving you to stumble behind him like a newborn deer. He looks upset about something, but you’re not sure if you should ask. When you finally match his pace, you frown, tapping his shoulder.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Since when were you friends with Cha Eunwoo?” Hyunjae blurts, tone catching you off guard. You blink at his outburst.

“For a while, I guess? We’re in the same department and we’ve had a few classes together. Why? Is that a problem?” You stop your steps, forcing him to do the same.

“No, why would it be? I’m not your boyfriend. You can talk to whoever you want.” He backtracks, realizing the connotation behind his question. Shit, why does he not think before he speaks?

“You could be,” you shrug, gaze casted downward to avoid his stare. “You could be my boyfriend.”

Again, because he’s a stupid boy, he chooses not to use his brain in such a critical situation. “I don’t want to be. You can date him for all I care.”

Hyunjae didn’t want to be the one to break your heart, but he knows he did when he sees the flame in your eyes die out. He thinks he broke his own too, chest constricting when tears well up in the corners. You wipe your runny nose with your gloved hand, sniffling with a scoff.

“Fuck you, Hyunjae,” your voice is surprisingly calm, and that scares him more. “Fuck you and your stupid fucking commitment issues and your lack of empathy. Stay away from me.”

He can’t even think of something quick enough to stop you. Of course, his mind runs at a million miles a minute when it’s the worst time. But when he needs it to work most, it fails on him. That’s exactly his luck.

He just stares as your figure gets smaller and smaller, getting further and further away from his reach. His stomach feels ugly, twisted in a way it shouldn’t be. Maybe it’s because he’d considered you a close friend at this point, and now there’s no way you didn’t hate him. He told you things that he hadn’t even told his brothers, things that he hoped would never see the light of day. He’d spoken his insecurities out into the world and you were the one he let see that vulnerable side of him. He had something good going for him finally, and he went and ruined it.

Who could he be mad at but himself?

When Hyunjae sees you again, it’s been at least a week since your argument in the middle of campus.

He’d been beating himself up over the fight the entire time. Numerous what-if scenarios ran through his mind when he should’ve been sleeping. He wonders what he could’ve said to make everything turn out differently. Had he just told you what was bothering him, told you about that icky sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, perhaps you wouldn’t have walked away.

He’s pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose. You avoided him until you knew you’d definitely see him, and then you’d flaunt yourself to purposefully piss him off. Despite only knowing each other for a little over a month, you had Hyunjae read like the back of your hand. You knew he was stubborn and had to be pushed into admitting he was wrong. He’d never outright confess to his mistakes unless you backed him into a corner and forced him to.

So you can imagine his reaction when he saw you walk into that week’s TBZ party with Cha Eunwoo around your shoulders.

If Lee Hyunjae had any faults, it was that he was too prideful. He realizes this when you stroll right past him, ignoring his presence. You giggle at something Eunwoo said as you grab some drinks. There’s no way you aren’t doing this to get on his nerves. Especially not in that outfit.

His grip on his cup is not normal, he knows that. But it’s not subtle if anyone notices and when Juyeon of all people points it out, he knows it even more.

“Yo, dude. Are you good? You look like you might kill somebody if we’d let you.” The younger male pats his back.

“Honestly, no, not really. But there isn’t really anything I can do about it.” Hyunjae huffs, welcoming his defeat with open arms.

“You can talk to me about things. It’s kinda weird but I always feel like getting out your thoughts is better than internalizing and blowing up randomly.” He says after a moment.

“I guess I’m just confused why I’m so jealous of something that isn’t mine.” The heart to heart with his frat brother follows the entire five stages of grief, starting with step one; Denial. He’ll keep denying the real reason he feels the way he does.

“Are you talking about that girl you were messing around with during break?” Juyeon asks, bringing his cup to his mouth. “And the fact that she’s here with Cha Eunwoo?”

Step two; Anger. His cup snaps and the sharp edge of the plastic scratches the inside of his palm. “Why would I be jealous of her being here with him? I could give less of a fuck about that. She’s not my girlfriend, she can do whatever she wants.”

He raises an eyebrow at how defensive his senior gets, lips quirking up. “Sure, Hyunjae. You’re not jealous. But you’re acting like it and you know you are.”

“Well,” step three; bargaining. “I’m not not jealous, I just— I don’t know. I’ve never been on this side of the situation before. Am I even allowed to be mad about it?”

“I mean, it’s a little unconventional, but yeah, I think you are. You spent the better part of a month getting to know this girl. You’ve seen her in ways other people haven’t. Even if you weren’t going into it with the intention to start something, I think it’s hard not to want anything after. Unless you’re completely heartless. But you’re not exactly The Grinch, so.” Juyeon sounds too wise for standing in the middle of a frat party.

“Nothing’s gonna happen now, though. She hates me and wants nothing to do with me because I screwed up.” Step four; Depression.

“You don’t know that unless you make an attempt to fix it,” his junior sighs. “Look, she’s gonna keep projecting how upset you made her if you aren’t gonna do something about it. But there’s a high chance that she’ll forgive you if you’re just real with her.”

And last, but not least, step five. Acceptance. Lee Hyunjae has finally accepted that he’s not an emotionless robot incapable of producing feelings for someone. He takes Juyeon’s advice right then and there, deciding that this is something he has to do immediately. (He also knows how much you can drink at these things and he preferred that you were sober when he spoke to you.)

He thanks his friend and sets off to search for you in the sea of already drunk university students. He’s anxious. He’s never been the type to have serious discussions about anything, really. He assumes that it stems from never seeing that in his own parents. They loved each other, yeah, but they never really talked about difficult topics with each other. Or, in front of him they didn’t.

Hyunjae thinks he might throw up when he finds you in the other room. Cha Eunwoo is still glued to your side, but he’s hardly paying attention to you, talking to his friends. You look bored, like you were waiting for something— or someone— to save you. This was his opportunity.

Your eyes widen when you see him heading straight for you, swallowing thickly. There wasn’t any route of escape so you were stuck having to deal with him. In all honesty, the hurt was still very fresh for you, and you weren’t sure you could handle talking to him yet.

“Can we please talk? I need to tell you something,” he yells over the loud music.

“Why should I listen to what you have to say?” Your tone is shaky, wavering slightly, but you’re grateful that he can’t hear it with how voluminous this party is.

“Y/N,” he pleads almost, eyes communicating what you needed to hear. “This is important.”

You concede, sneaking from Eunwoo and following Hyunjae blindly. You could be getting whisked away to your demise, but the former hardly even notices, too engrossed in whatever he was saying to his friends. You’re a bit apprehensive when Hyunjae takes you into his bedroom, biting your cheek when the memories of what you’ve done in here come flooding back to you.

“Okay, I don’t know how to put this into a coherent thought,” he turns his back to you.

“Can we just get this over with? You don’t want me, remember? I don’t even know why I’m giving you the time of day—“

“Of course I want you,” he exclaims, spinning around and pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, are you blind? It’s so obvious that I’ve wanted you for so long, Y/N. I’m just stupid and I fucked everything up, because I was scared that things would change and I’m afraid of change. That’s the reason why I have commitment problems. I don’t want to commit myself to something just for everything to change in the blink of an eye.”

You shut up after that, your heart skipping in your chest. This was what you wanted. You wanted a messy confession. Something that told you it wasn’t all in your head. That you weren’t making things up. That he felt the same way you did.

Your lips collide in a rough, desperate manner. Hyunjae’s never had a way with words, so kissing you with every ounce of longing in his being and holding you like you’d disappear any second was his outlet. This was how he could show you his true feelings. Your heart rate transitions from your pulse point to your ears, amplifying with each suck of your bottom lip between his teeth

You’ve done this so many times before, but it will never be the same as this one. No one could ever make you feel the way Lee Hyunjae does. It might be crazy, but it only took a month for you to realize that there will never be another for you. The conversations that trickled into early hours of the morning following going at it like jackrabbits were perfect to you. They weren’t ideal, but they were enough.

The two of you walk backwards until he’s sitting on the edge of his bed, your knees on either side of his lap. You cup his jaw in your hands, grinding down on him every time your lips move together. Hyunjae’s fingers dig into your sides and push up the material of your dress. He’s moving fast, rushed like you might decide you don’t want this and walk out of his room.

You can’t really blame him, your pace disorganized with only one goal in mind. Neither of you could be bothered with the foreplay, too needy and craving the touch of one another as quickly as possible. You part from him to pull off your dress, eyes fluttering shut when he starts leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. He doesn’t want to waste time commenting on the fact that you were braless underneath so he busies himself with pecking the tops of your tits. Your fingers card through his hair with an extended sigh, noticing how long it’s gotten since you first met.

Hyunjae pushes his pants down his legs as you yank his shirt over his head, reconnecting your lips. He uses his ring and middle fingers to shove aside your underwear, discarding his own shortly after. Your mouth nips and bites your favorite places on his neck, ensuring you mark the surface so everyone knows who he belongs to. You were the one who acquired the key to Lee Hyunjae’s heart.

Your teeth sink into his skin the moment he slips inside of you, both of you moaning when he slides right into your cunt like he was meant to be there. You whine when he bottoms out, your sensitive clit bumping into his pelvic bone. You’re so warm and inviting, Hyunjae feels like he’s falling under a spell. Just being inside of you feels like a form of hypnosis. If it was up to him, he’d stay here forever, content to sit with his cock stuffed in you without interruption. But you both yearn for more than that.

He tightens his grip on your hips, bucking upwards into you and watching with heavy eyes as a whine spills from your lips. You look so fucked out despite him doing absolutely nothing to you yet. He thrusts up again experimentally, grinning when your upper half knocks into his.

“Feel good, baby?” He coos into your ear, nipping at the lobe and the area surrounding.

You nod with a whimper when his cock brushes that sweet spot deep inside your pussy. “Mhm, feels so— fuck, Jae, want it harder.”

“Anything for my pretty girl,” he smiles into your skin.

He increases the speed that he fucks into you, pinning down your hips so you can’t move and all you can do is take it. It’s like you can feel him in your abdomen, his cock plunging in you so far. You’d think after a month of fucking practically every day, you’d be used to his size by now. However, that was just not attainable. You don’t think you could ever get used to how big he was, how thick he was.

The force that he drives into you with is unmatched, miles apart from what he’s given you before. It’s like he wants to burn the shape of himself inside you, so you never forget that he’s the one making you feel like this. Nobody but Hyunjae can fuck you this well.

He moves you further up the bed, flattening his feet on the mattress and laying down so he can press deeper, a new angle that has your vision going blank. You don’t think twice about the volume of your cries, letting him know how good he’s giving it to you. You’re encouraging him, wanting him to get cockier so he can keep fucking you into oblivion. Your fingers grasp at the sheets beside his head for support.

Hyunjae’s nails impress crescent shapes into your waist, his mouth returning to your tits so he can leave his own marks all over your chest. It’s when your clit rubs against his lower stomach again that you let go, your orgasm crashing into like a train. It winds you, ripping your breath from your throat and stealing your oxygen. He’s close behind, the feeling of your walls clenching around him in rapid intervals triggering his own.

He fills you up nicely, both of you releasing guttural groans at the sight of his cum dripping out of you. You’re too exhausted to get up, collapsing on top of him. He doesn’t mind, more than happy to stay buried inside of you even if you didn’t do anything.

“So…” You start after a bit of silence, drawing unrecognizable shapes on his chest. “You’ve wanted me for so long, huh?”

“Shut up,” he laughs, eyes closed while he recuperates from using all of his energy on you. “This is still new for me.”

“I know, Mr. Emotionally Constipated And I Don’t Date ‘Cause I’m Going To Be A Big Fancy Hotshot Lawyer,” you tease, pecking his lips and then his nose. “I must be extremely special to be the one who changed your mind.”

“You’ll be the death of me, you know that right?” He shakes his head, brushing some of your hair from your face. You smile down at him with an unfamiliar fondness in your eyes.

“Why else do you think we’ve gotten this far?”

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