#the boyz jacob fanfiction

[hcuyk]

OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

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

PAIRING ✧ rival!hyunjae x fem!reader

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

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

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

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

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

⋮≡ [ PERMANENT TAGLIST ] @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout @the-kpop-simp @sunwoosberrie @winterchimez — fill out the form or comment/send an ask/dm to be added!

THE BOYZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

AUTHOR'S NOTE : in honor of my three years of officially stanning the boyz on this very day, let's celebrate with my smut debut and writing comeback 😋 enjoy my loves

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

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

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

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

“Well, he is your boss.”

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

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well yeah, but the—”

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

“That’s just how-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You.” 

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

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kevin glanced up at his phone and scrunched his nose at Hyunjae in annoyance.

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m complaining,” Kevin muttered.

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

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

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

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

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

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get a room—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And apparently horny too.”

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

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

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

“Ew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

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

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

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

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

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

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

“You can’t be serious.”

Hyunjae, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was a mistake, okay?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re still with him??”

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

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

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

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

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

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

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

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

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

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

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

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

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

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Jae.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you left. 

//

Kevin apologized to you the morning after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet it all felt so different.

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

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

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

Then you would never have to see him in college.

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

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

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

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

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

He knew when to stop.

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

“Hyunjae isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

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

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you thinking about him?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew it.

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

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

“So you want me to do it?”

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

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

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

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice try.”

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“What–?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, she continued running off. 

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

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

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

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

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

Of course it was Hyunjae.

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

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

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

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

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re taking too long.”

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

And Hyunjae was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

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

“I can do it myself,” you explained. 

“What are you even doing?” 

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

“You’re struggling.”

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

“Let me do it.”

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

“You’re kidding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjae, I swear—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, baby!”

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

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

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

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

“Of course I was, baby.” 

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

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

//

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for one thing; your fury.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted to burn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

“I need a ride.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

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

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

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

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

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

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

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

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

“Drive.”

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

“Where to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

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

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

“About Jiwoong and Eunseo.”

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

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

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

But you asked, and as always, Hyunjae delivered.

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

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

His footsteps halted, and Hyunjae caught Jiwoong’s fatal words.

“How does tomorrow sound?”

Eunseo’s squeals followed after, and Hyunjae stood motionless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to.”

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

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

“I know, Jae.”

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

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

You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

“I want it to hurt, Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

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

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

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

“You love me, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

He knew better.

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

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

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

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

“And I say take advantage of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

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

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

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

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

Hyunjae would punch Jiwoong all over again if he could. 

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

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

“But it’s true, no?”

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

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

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

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

You wanted to be his downfall. 

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

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

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

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

Hyunjae didn’t deserve that at all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I do this?”

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

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

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

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

“A favor is a stretch—”

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun, please,” you begged. 

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

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

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

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Hyunjae took no time breaking it from your neck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re jealous, Jae. Just admit it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Hyunjae showed no signs of stopping.

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

Oh, and there was the recording too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jaehy- hyun, I’m—”

“Mine.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — THE BOYZ

© https://hcuyk.tumblr.com/

[loverseon]

SOUL SWAP .ᐟ masterlist coming soon ᯓ★

pairing female reader x ???

genre royal au, fantasy, kinda mystery ish

synopsis you wake up in a bedroom thats not your own. curtains that arent your own, bed thats not your own. a life thats not your own. no one around you seems to take you very seriously when you try and explain that youre… not exactly who they think you are. but hey, who are you to complain when everywhere you look theres a handsome man who wants you?

word count tbd (around 30k+)

warnings angst, fluff, themes of death, suggestive (tbz being sexy what can i say) cursing, slow burn, gradual pairing reveal, will add more tags as we progress

teaser one moodboard playlist

part i. the dream of the golden bedroom

part ii. the hero of the first water

part iii. the saviour of the fallen

part iv. the master of the wild

part v. the commander of the gods

part vi. the ceremony of the conqueror

part vii. the end of the beginning

part viii. epilogue: the princess of stars

a/n shakes u by the shoulders ohhhh its happeninf its happeningg

[yundeob]

VARSITY. | SERIES TEASER

GENRE: fluff, smut, angst, crack, shit ton of everything

SYNOPSIS: Ah yes, your university’s undeniable pride and joy. The tbz fraternity appears to be 11 good looking, well natured and extremely talented young varsity boys, ranking first in all their classes, sweeping first place at sports tournaments almost every season, and throwing notoriously famous parties every weekend. Most of it is true, but of course, appearance isn’t everything. Deep down you’re met with 11 crazy, frat boys who love to party as much as they love to shoot their shot at dating.

AUTHORS NOTE: this will be an 11 part series featuring each member of the tbz fraternity with a story of their own. this is a work in progress, but if you are interested then please consider joining the taglist by reblogging or commenting below!

NOTICE: temporarily on hold, but I will see to it that this series gets done🫡

TAGLIST: @mingd1no @sctadf @noidnoentry @nanaheex @flaminghotyourmom

[jinnieboosworld]

Raspberry Tea

Jacob Bae x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, Coming of Age

Summary: Jacob Bae works night shift at a convenience store and every night at the same time a mysterious girl comes in and buys two bottles of raspberry tea. Usually when she comes in they only exchange a few greetings but tonight is different.

Part of The MeetCute Series

@deoboyznet @a-dream-bookmark @k-labels

Word Count: 5182

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzzed faintly, casting a pale glow over the rows of neatly stacked snacks and drinks. It was past eleven, the streets outside empty save for the occasional passing car. Jacob leaned against the counter, absently strumming his fingers on the edge of a magazine. His guitar, propped up in the corner near the employee cubby, seemed to taunt him with the promise of distraction.

“Another thrilling night,” he muttered to himself, staring at the clock.

It wasn’t that he hated the quiet. There was something peaceful about the solitude of night shifts, but sometimes, he wished for a little more excitement—or at least a familiar face.

As if on cue, the familiar chime of the door startled him out of his thoughts. He looked up, and there she was.

She always showed up around this time, like clockwork. Tonight, she wore an oversized sweater and a pair of faded sneakers, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Without a word, she made her way to the refrigerator, grabbing two bottles of raspberry tea.

“Right on time,” Jacob said with a small smile as she approached the counter.

She returned the smile, sliding the drinks toward him. “Late-night tea runs are my thing,” she replied, her voice soft but steady.

Jacob scanned the bottles and bagged them, the transaction as smooth and practiced as their nightly exchanges. “You must really like this stuff,” he teased, handing her the bag. “What’s the deal with two bottles every time? One for now, one for later?”

She shrugged, a playful glint in her eye. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m preparing for the apocalypse. Gotta stay hydrated.”

He laughed, the sound breaking the stillness of the store. It was such a simple interaction, but it made his shift feel a little brighter.

She lingered for a moment longer than usual, her fingers drumming lightly on the counter. Jacob tilted his head, curious. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” she said quickly, then paused. “It’s just… do you ever feel like this place is too quiet?”

“All the time,” he admitted with a grin. “That’s why I keep my guitar around. Helps pass the time.”

“You play?” she asked, genuine interest flickering in her expression.

“Only when the snack aisle doesn’t mind a few wrong notes,” he joked.

She smiled again, but this time it felt different—like she was letting her guard down, if only a little. “Maybe I’ll catch a concert someday,” she said, stepping back toward the door.

Jacob watched her leave, the door chime ringing softly behind her. As the silence returned, he realized he didn’t even know her name.

But he knew she’d be back.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Jacob leaned against the counter, absently turning a pack of gum in his hands. The store was even quieter than usual tonight, and the dull buzz of the overhead lights was beginning to wear on him. He glanced at the clock—11:28 PM.

Right on time, the door chimed.

She walked in, her familiar presence a welcome break from the monotony. Tonight, she wore a dark jacket zipped up to her chin, her cheeks tinged pink from the cold night air. She didn’t look at him immediately, heading straight to the refrigerated section as always.

Jacob couldn’t help but notice how easily she fit into the rhythm of the store—like a quiet melody that played in the background of his shift.

She returned to the counter with her usual two bottles of raspberry tea. As he scanned them, Jacob smiled. “Late-night tea run again?”

Her lips quirked up in a faint smile. “You know it.”

Their usual exchange was light and predictable, but tonight, something was different. She didn’t leave right away. Instead, she lingered at the counter, her fingers brushing the edge of her bag.

“You okay?” Jacob asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

She hesitated, then gave a small shrug. “Yeah. Just… do you ever feel like this place is too quiet?”

Jacob chuckled softly. “All the time. That’s why I keep my guitar around. Helps fill the silence.”

“You play?” she asked, her voice holding a hint of surprise.

“Mostly just to keep myself awake,” he said with a grin. “But yeah, I guess you could say that.”

She tapped her fingers lightly against the counter, as if considering something. “You should play here sometime,” she said, her tone half-teasing.

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “What, like a concert for snack enthusiasts?”

“Exactly,” she said, her grin widening. “I’ll bring popcorn.”

He laughed, and for a moment, the quiet store felt alive with an energy he couldn’t quite explain. There was something about her presence that made the stillness less heavy, less lonely.

As she reached for her bag, she knocked a small notebook off the counter. It hit the floor with a soft thud, and Jacob bent down to pick it up.

“You dropped this,” he said, holding it out to her.

Her cheeks flushed as she quickly took it back. “Thanks. It’s, uh, just for sketches.”

“Sketches, huh?” Jacob asked, intrigued but not wanting to pry.

“Yeah. Nothing fancy,” she said, clutching the notebook tightly. “Just little things I notice.”

She offered him another faint smile before heading for the door. Jacob watched her leave, the notebook still lingering in his mind.

As the door chimed shut, he found himself wondering what kind of sketches filled its pages—and what kind of story she was living outside the quiet walls of his store.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Jacob leaned on the counter, staring at the clock as it ticked closer to 11:30 PM. The door chimed every so often, but it wasn’t her, just the occasional customer grabbing chips or energy drinks.

He glanced at his guitar in the corner, debating whether to pick it up and play something to pass the time. But tonight, the quiet felt heavier. For weeks now, she’d come in like clockwork, her arrival the one predictable highlight of his shift.

But tonight, 11:30 came and went.

“Guess she’s taking the night off from tea,” Jacob muttered under his breath, trying to ignore the twinge of disappointment settling in his chest.

Just as he was about to lock the door for his break, the chime rang.

She rushed in, her hair slightly disheveled, cheeks pink from exertion. She was clutching her bag tightly, her breath coming in short bursts as if she’d been running.

“Sorry!” she said, hurrying toward the counter. “My train was delayed. I thought I wouldn’t make it before you closed.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “You know, it’s okay to skip a tea run every now and then. The world won’t end.”

She laughed, the sound soft but warm. “You say that now, but I think you’d miss me.”

Jacob blinked, caught off guard by her boldness. She didn’t give him a chance to respond, already heading to the refrigerator to grab her usual bottles.

When she returned to the counter, she placed the teas down and smiled sheepishly. “It’s been one of those days. Raspberry tea fixes everything.”

Jacob scanned the bottles, still amused. “You’ve got me curious. What’s so special about this tea?”

“Trade secret,” she said, her grin widening. “But trust me, it’s worth the hype.”

As she reached for her wallet, her notebook slipped out of her bag again and hit the floor. Jacob picked it up, handing it back to her like the night before.

“You really need to secure this thing,” he joked, but his tone was light, more curious than critical.

She cradled the notebook protectively against her chest. “It’s my sketchbook. I’m kind of… attached to it.”

“Any chance I get to see what’s inside?” Jacob asked, his voice teasing but genuine.

She hesitated, her fingers tracing the edges of the notebook. “Maybe someday,” she said quietly, her smile softer now.

Jacob nodded, sensing her reluctance and deciding not to push. As she walked toward the door, he called out, “Hey, thanks for not switching to another tea brand.”

She turned back, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Never. Raspberry’s my favorite.”

The door chimed as she left, and Jacob found himself smiling at the empty store. She was a mystery he couldn’t quite figure out, but for now, he was content with the small glimpses she offered.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Jacob leaned against the counter, a familiar sound snapping him out of his thoughts: the soft chime of the door. He didn’t even need to look up to know it was her.

But this time, she wasn’t carrying her usual air of quiet mystery. Instead, she strode up to the counter with an unexpected confidence, holding out a bottle of raspberry tea.

“For you,” she said, sliding it across the counter with a grin.

Jacob blinked. “What’s this?”

“Payment for putting up with my midnight tea obsession,” she teased. “And because you clearly don’t know what you’re missing.”

Jacob chuckled, twisting the cap open. “I feel like I’m being recruited into some secret raspberry tea cult.”

“Not a cult. A lifestyle,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

He took a sip, the tangy sweetness surprising him. “Alright, I’ll admit—it’s not bad. But now you’ve got me hooked. What’s the plan, drain my paycheck one bottle at a time?”

“Maybe,” she said, leaning on the counter. “Or maybe I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For what?”

“For being here,” she replied simply, her voice quieter now. “Late nights can get lonely, you know?”

Jacob studied her for a moment. She always carried herself like someone who had everything figured out, but there was something vulnerable in the way she said it.

“Well,” he said, leaning on the counter to meet her gaze, “if it helps, I’d say this store is a lot less boring when you’re around.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she didn’t look away. Instead, she reached into her bag and pulled out her sketchbook, setting it on the counter.

“Wanna see something?” she asked, her tone casual but her expression a little nervous.

Jacob nodded. She flipped the pages until she landed on a sketch—a drawing of the store at night, its fluorescent lights glowing softly against the dark sky.

“This is amazing,” he said, genuinely impressed.

“Thanks,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It’s kind of my thing—finding ordinary places and moments and making them… feel special.”

Jacob tapped the edge of the sketchbook lightly. “Well, you nailed it. That’s exactly what this place feels like when you’re here.”

Her smile grew, and for a moment, the quiet convenience store felt like the most alive place in the world.

As the night stretched on, she stayed longer than usual, sitting on the counter’s edge while Jacob played his guitar softly in the background. They didn’t talk much—didn’t need to.

When she finally stood to leave, she paused at the door, glancing back with a grin. “Same time tomorrow?”

Jacob raised the bottle of raspberry tea she’d given him earlier. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

The door chimed as she stepped out into the night, and Jacob found himself wondering if this routine of theirs might be turning into something more.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The nights began to blur into a comforting rhythm. By now, Jacob knew the exact sound of her footsteps on the tile, the rustle of her bag as she approached the counter, and the soft way she said, “Hey, Jacob,” as if they were old friends.

But tonight, there was something different in the air.

“You’re early,” Jacob said as she placed her usual two bottles of raspberry tea on the counter.

“I figured I’d give you some time to prepare,” she teased, leaning against the counter.

“For what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“For this,” she said, pulling out her sketchbook and flipping to a blank page. “I decided tonight, you’re my subject.”

Jacob blinked. “What, like a portrait?”

“Sort of. But don’t get too excited—I’m terrible at faces. It’ll probably end up looking like a potato.”

He laughed, leaning forward on the counter. “A potato? That’s a little harsh.”

“Hey, it’s a compliment! Potatoes are versatile,” she said with a grin. “But seriously, stay still. I need to capture the ‘quiet musician stuck in a convenience store’ vibe.”

“Sounds like a movie waiting to happen,” Jacob joked, but he stayed put, resting his chin on his hand.

For a while, the store was silent except for the scratch of her pencil against paper and the hum of the refrigerators. Jacob watched her, noting the way her brow furrowed in concentration and how she chewed the end of her pencil when she paused to think.

“Do you do this often?” he asked after a moment.

“Sketch people? Sometimes. But usually, it’s strangers on trains or people at coffee shops. You’re the first person who knows they’re being sketched.”

“Should I be honored?”

She glanced up at him, her eyes twinkling. “Maybe.”

Jacob chuckled and reached for his guitar. “If I’m gonna be your model, I might as well provide some ambiance.”

As he strummed a soft tune, she smiled, her pencil moving across the page again.

When she finally finished, she turned the sketchbook toward him.

“Ta-da!”

The drawing was simple but warm—Jacob leaning on the counter, his guitar propped beside him, the store’s glow softly framing the scene.

“Wow,” he said, genuinely impressed. “You weren’t kidding about the potato thing, though.”

She gasped, pretending to be offended. “You’re lucky I didn’t draw you as a stick figure.”

He laughed, shaking his head. “I’m kidding. It’s… amazing. Really.”

Her cheeks flushed faintly, but she shrugged it off. “It’s nothing, just a quick sketch.”

“Well, I’m keeping it,” Jacob said, reaching for the page.

“What? No!” she protested, pulling it away. “It’s not good enough to give away.”

“Too bad,” he teased. “I think it’s perfect.”

They locked eyes for a moment, the playful energy between them softening into something quieter, more intimate.

Finally, she sighed, tearing the page out of the sketchbook and handing it to him. “Fine. But only because you bribed me with your guitar skills.”

“I’ll take it,” he said with a grin, carefully tucking the drawing into his notebook.

As she left that night, Jacob found himself lingering on the way her laugh echoed through the empty store.

And for the first time, he wondered what it might be like to spend time with her somewhere other than under the store’s fluorescent lights.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The night felt heavier than usual, the silence of the store almost pressing down on Jacob. He was restocking the chips aisle when the familiar chime of the door echoed through the quiet.

“You’re late,” Jacob teased as she approached the counter.

“Late?” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Since when did I have a set schedule?”

“You’re like clockwork,” he said with a smirk. “I can practically hear the tea bottles calling your name at 11:30 on the dot.”

She laughed, pulling the usual two bottles of raspberry tea from the fridge and placing them on the counter. But tonight, she didn’t grab her wallet immediately. Instead, she leaned against the counter, her gaze thoughtful.

“Long night?” Jacob asked, scanning the bottles.

She shrugged. “Sort of. It’s just been one of those days, you know?”

Jacob nodded, setting the tea aside. “I get it. Want to talk about it?”

She hesitated, her fingers drumming softly against the counter. “It’s nothing major. Just… sometimes I feel like I’m not doing enough. Like I should be better at… everything.”

Jacob leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the counter. “That’s a lot of pressure to put on yourself.”

“Yeah, well,” she said with a small smile, “that’s kind of my specialty.”

He studied her for a moment before grabbing his guitar from its spot in the corner.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Providing a distraction,” he said simply.

Sitting on the stool behind the counter, Jacob began strumming a soft, easy tune. The melody filled the small store, wrapping around them like a blanket. She watched him, her expression softening as the music replaced the weight of her thoughts.

“That’s nice,” she said after a while.

“Yeah?” Jacob said, glancing up at her.

She nodded, her lips curving into a genuine smile. “You’re really good.”

Jacob chuckled. “Music’s my therapy, I guess. Whenever things feel overwhelming, I just… play.”

She tilted her head, studying him with a mix of curiosity and admiration. “How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was a kid. My parents wanted me to focus on more ‘practical’ things, but I’ve always come back to music,” he said, his fingers moving effortlessly across the strings. “What about you? What keeps you going?”

She thought for a moment before answering. “Drawing, I guess. It helps me see things differently. Makes everything feel less… heavy.”

Jacob nodded, his strumming slowing. “Sounds like we’ve got a lot in common.”

“Maybe,” she said, her smile turning playful. “But can you draw a decent stick figure?”

“I’ll have you know, my stick figures are world-class,” Jacob said with mock seriousness, earning a laugh from her.

The moment stretched, the quiet of the store no longer feeling lonely.

“Thanks,” she said softly, breaking the silence.

“For what?”

“For not making me feel silly for venting,” she said, grabbing her tea. “And for the music. It helped.”

“Anytime,” Jacob said, his voice warm.

As she walked toward the door, she paused, turning back to him.

“Hey, Jacob?”

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, as if debating whether to say something, then shook her head with a small smile. “Never mind. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he called after her, watching the door swing shut behind her.

Jacob sat there for a moment, his guitar still in his lap, wondering what she had almost said.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The store was quiet again, save for the steady hum of the refrigerators. Jacob leaned against the counter, absently plucking at his guitar strings. He wasn’t playing anything in particular, just letting his fingers wander.

The chime of the door startled him out of his thoughts. She walked in, her sketchbook tucked under her arm.

“Hey,” she said, offering a small smile.

“Hey,” Jacob replied, setting his guitar aside. “You’re a little early tonight.”

She shrugged. “Felt like taking a longer walk. Thought I’d stop by sooner.”

Jacob glanced at the sketchbook she carried. “Working on something new?”

“Sort of,” she said, placing it on the counter. “I’ve been experimenting, trying to sketch more… moments, I guess.”

“Moments?”

“Yeah. Like this place,” she said, gesturing around. “It’s got a vibe, you know? Quiet, but not in a bad way. Comfortable.”

Jacob chuckled. “That’s one way to describe it.”

She flipped open the sketchbook, revealing a page filled with quick, detailed drawings. Jacob immediately recognized the counter, the shelves of snacks, even the faint glow of the neon sign in the window.

“You sketched this?” he asked, his voice full of admiration.

She nodded, a little shyly. “I wanted to capture it. This place feels… safe, I guess.”

Jacob studied the page, impressed by the way she’d captured the store’s simplicity and turned it into something beautiful.

“These are amazing,” he said. “You really have an eye for detail.”

“Thanks,” she said softly. “I’m trying to see things differently, to notice the little things that make ordinary moments special.”

Jacob leaned on the counter, his gaze still on the sketchbook. “You know, I’ve never thought of this place as special. It’s just… work.”

“It is special,” she said, meeting his eyes. “You’re here every night, keeping it running, creating a space for people to come and go. That matters more than you think.”

Jacob felt a warmth in her words, like she’d peeled back a layer of his life he hadn’t paid attention to before.

“You really see the world differently, don’t you?” he said, smiling.

She grinned. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just too sentimental for my own good.”

Jacob reached for his guitar again. “Well, if this place has a vibe, I guess I’d better live up to it.”

She laughed, leaning on the counter as he began to play a soft tune. The music filled the space between them, blending with the faint hum of the refrigerators.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. She flipped to a blank page in her sketchbook and started drawing as Jacob played.

“What are you sketching now?” he asked after a while.

“You,” she said without looking up.

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

“You’ve got that ‘quiet musician’ aesthetic,” she teased. “It’s perfect for the mood I’m trying to capture.”

Jacob chuckled but didn’t protest. Instead, he kept playing, letting the music flow as she sketched.

By the time she finished, the tea bottles sat untouched on the counter, forgotten in the easy rhythm of their interaction.

When she finally stood to leave, she tore a page from her sketchbook and slid it across the counter.

“For you,” she said, smiling.

Jacob glanced down at the drawing. It was him, sitting with his guitar, surrounded by the warm glow of the store’s lights.

“This is incredible,” he said, looking up at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, grabbing her tea. “Consider it a thank-you for the music.”

As the door swung shut behind her, Jacob stared at the sketch, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Jacob waited eagerly for her arrival that night. The sketch she’d given him was carefully tucked away in his bag, and he’d spent the day thinking of a way to return the gesture. He wasn’t an artist like her, but he had his own way of expressing himself.

The door chime rang, and there she was, her familiar smile lighting up the dim store.

“Hey,” she said, setting her tea bottles on the counter.

“Hey,” Jacob replied, his fingers drumming on the counter nervously. “So, I’ve been thinking.”

“Uh-oh,” she teased. “That sounds dangerous.”

He laughed, grabbing his guitar from its usual spot. “You gave me something yesterday, and it meant a lot. So, I figured I’d return the favor.”

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. “What kind of favor?”

Jacob strummed the first few chords of a song. “It’s something I’ve been working on. It’s not finished, but… I thought you might want to hear it.”

Her expression softened, and she leaned on the counter. “I’d love to.”

Jacob started playing, the melody soft and inviting. His voice was low at first, almost hesitant, but it grew stronger with every verse. The song wasn’t polished, but it was heartfelt—a mix of gentle rhythms and lyrics that spoke of quiet nights and unexpected connections.

She listened intently, her hands folded under her chin. When he finished, the store felt still, as though the walls themselves were holding onto the music.

“That was beautiful,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jacob’s cheeks flushed. “It’s not much, but… it’s inspired by you. By these little moments.”

She didn’t say anything at first, just smiled in a way that made Jacob’s heart race.

“I’m flattered,” she said finally. “And really impressed. You’re seriously talented, you know that?”

“Coming from you, that means a lot,” he said, setting the guitar down.

She glanced at the clock, a slight frown crossing her face. “I should get going soon. Long day tomorrow.”

“Right,” Jacob said, trying to hide his disappointment.

She hesitated, then reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“Open it after I leave,” she said, her smile turning playful. “Consider it a mystery.”

Before Jacob could respond, she grabbed her tea and headed for the door.

“Goodnight, Jacob,” she called over her shoulder.

“Goodnight,” he replied, watching the door swing shut behind her.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened the envelope immediately. Inside was a sketch of the two of them, sitting on the counter together, tea bottles in hand. The detail was impeccable, down to the faint glow of the store’s lights and the guitar resting against the counter.

At the bottom, she’d written: Thanks for making the nights a little brighter.

Jacob smiled to himself, tucking the sketch back into the envelope. He had a feeling that the best part of his nights was just getting started.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next night, Jacob waited for her with a plan in mind. He hadn’t stopped thinking about the sketch she’d given him, the way it perfectly captured their quiet connection. For weeks, they had danced around the idea of being more than just strangers who shared the same convenience store, and tonight, he wanted to see if they could take one step closer.

The door chime rang at her usual time, and Jacob’s smile came instinctively.

“Hey,” he greeted, already pulling out her raspberry tea bottles and setting them on the counter.

“Hey,” she said, her eyes crinkling in that way he’d come to look forward to. “Are you always this prepared?”

“Only for my favorite customer,” he teased, earning a soft laugh from her.

After paying, she didn’t leave right away, instead leaning against the counter like she often did when she had time to linger. Jacob took a deep breath, deciding to go for it.

“Do you have a few minutes?” he asked, stepping out from behind the counter.

She tilted her head, intrigued. “Sure. What’s up?”

Jacob gestured toward a small table near the back of the store. “I figured we’ve talked about your art a lot, but I haven’t shown you much about mine.”

Her eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You mean your music?”

“Yeah,” he said, grabbing his guitar. “I know it’s not exactly Carnegie Hall, but I thought you might like a private performance.”

Her smile widened, and she followed him to the table. “A midnight concert in a convenience store? Can’t say I’ve done this before.”

Jacob chuckled as he sat down and strummed a few warm-up chords. “First time for everything, right?”

She nodded, settling in across from him. As he played, her expression shifted—soft and attentive, the way she always seemed to listen so deeply. He sang a new song, one he’d been working on just for her. The lyrics were simple but sincere, weaving together themes of quiet nights, unexpected company, and the kind of magic found in ordinary places.

When the song ended, she clapped softly, her eyes bright. “That was incredible,” she said. “You’re so talented, Jacob. Seriously.”

He set the guitar down, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks. It’s, uh, inspired by someone.”

Her cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down at her tea. “Well, whoever she is, she’s lucky.”

Jacob hesitated, then decided to test the waters. “What if I told you she comes in here every night and buys two bottles of raspberry tea?”

Her head shot up, her eyes wide. “Oh,” she said softly.

Jacob grinned, leaning forward a little. “Think she’d be interested in hearing more songs?”

Her laugh was quiet but warm, and she nodded. “I think she might be.”

For a moment, the two of them sat there, the hum of the refrigerators filling the silence. It wasn’t much, but it felt like the start of something.

Before she left that night, she turned back at the door and gave him a small, shy wave.

“See you tomorrow, Jacob.”

He waved back, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. “See you tomorrow.”

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

The next night felt different. Jacob couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was an energy in the air—a quiet anticipation he couldn’t shake. He’d spent the entire day thinking about her reaction to his song, replaying their conversation in his head.

When the door chime finally rang at her usual time, Jacob looked up to see her walking in with a bag slung over her shoulder and a small, determined smile on her face.

“Hey,” she said as she approached the counter.

“Hey,” he replied, setting her raspberry tea bottles down like clockwork. “You’re right on time.”

She didn’t immediately reach for her wallet, instead pulling out the notebook she always carried. “Actually,” she said, placing it on the counter, “I wanted to show you something.”

Jacob leaned forward, curious. “What’s this?”

She flipped it open to a page filled with sketches of the convenience store—its shelves, the neon sign glowing faintly through the window, and, most prominently, Jacob himself. One sketch showed him strumming his guitar, another had him laughing behind the counter, and the last one was a quiet moment of him resting his chin in his hand, looking out the window.

“These are incredible,” he said, genuinely stunned. “You’ve been drawing me this whole time?”

She laughed, a little shy. “It’s not as creepy as it sounds, I swear. You just… you’ve got this way about you. It’s like you belong here, but you’re dreaming of something bigger. I wanted to capture that.”

Jacob looked at her, his heart doing somersaults. “I don’t even know what to say,” he admitted. “This is—wow.”

“Well, there’s more,” she said, flipping to another page. This one had a sketch of two people sitting on the curb outside the store, sharing raspberry tea under the glow of a streetlamp.

“That’s us,” Jacob said softly.

She nodded. “I figured, if I can draw it, maybe we can make it happen.”

Jacob felt a grin tugging at his lips. “Are you asking me to have tea with you?”

“Technically, you owe me one,” she teased. “Remember the tea delivery I brought you?”

He laughed, grabbing two bottles of tea from the fridge. “You’re right. I can’t leave a debt unpaid.”

They stepped outside, the cool night air wrapping around them. The streetlamp cast a warm glow over the curb as they sat down, their knees almost touching.

“So,” she said, popping the cap off her bottle. “What’s next for you, Jacob? Still dreaming of music school?”

He looked at her, realizing he didn’t feel quite so unsure about the future anymore. “Yeah. But I think I’ve found something just as good in the meantime.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

Jacob tapped his bottle gently against hers, a soft clink echoing in the quiet street. “This,” he said simply. “Late nights, raspberry tea, and good company.”

Her smile was radiant, and Jacob couldn’t help but think that this moment felt like the kind of magic she always talked about finding in the ordinary.

As they sipped their tea, sharing stories and laughter under the glow of the streetlamp, Jacob realized he didn’t need all the answers right now. For once, just being here—with her—was enough.

And as the lights of the convenience store flickered behind them, he couldn’t help but wonder what other moments like this the future might hold.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

[aeharbour]

🪧Masterlist

🪧Parts: one I

🪧Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Alternate Universes

🪧Pairing(s): Hyunjae x Reader, Q x Reader

🪧Summary: Seoul is in lockdown after a horrific outbreak. Separated from her family and fiancé, a young woman joins forces with three strangers to reach her family. A desperate fight for escape unfolds as they race against time and the growing chaos to survive.

🪧Word Count: 2,450

🪧Warning : Mention of zombies, and subtle references to the 2020 pandemic

net: @deoboyznet

You leaned against the cool metal wall of the elevator, your head throbbing in time with each ascending floor. The bright lights shine over your pale face, making you push the cap on your head further down. Last night's after-work hangout had been a whirlwind of chattering workers, loud music, and endless soju bombs. Now, the remnants of too much alcohol twister your stomach into knots. You closed your eyes, hoping the ride would end soon, but the soft ding of each floor felt like a hammer against your skull.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, but you ignored it—no doubt a message from your fiancé, who finally had some time to use his phone privileges. You felt guilty for ignoring Jaehyun when you had so little time to speak to him each day, but there was no way you could bear to look at the glowing screen.

The door opened, and you were about to sigh relief before a tall man stepped inside with a large duffle.

Level 6, which means you had 7 more floors to go.

You shyly recognize that the male beside you is handsome, his broad shoulders and defined jawline accentuated by his fitted t-shirt. He gave you a polite nod of acknowledgment, which you returned with a slight smile before averting your gaze.

As the elevator approached your floor, you took a deep breath, hoping your headache would ease once you were in the quiet of your apartment. The doors opened with a final ding, and you stepped out. To your surprise, the man followed, heading in the same direction.

You walked silently down the hallway together, the soft carpet muffling your footsteps. When you reached your door, you hesitated momentarily, fumbling for your keys. He stopped at the apartment directly across from yours, and you watched from the corner of your eye as the door opened and he slipped inside.

You mused that he must be a friend of Changmin's, unlocking your door. You knew your neighbour in passing, another attractive tall male who coincidentally works in the building across from your office. Jaehyun was more familiar with your neighbour than you were; the two of them once got into a small fight over something as trivial as parking space, but that deterred you from ever building a friendly relationship with Changmin.

You step inside and slide into your slippers, hanging your coat and bag on the rack. Thinking back to all your decisions yesterday, staying over at Naeun's house when you had nothing clean to wear was probably the worst. The throbbing in your head persisted as you moved towards your ensuite bathroom, hoping a quick shower might alleviate the dull ache and eliminate the smoke smell stuck on your hair.

Glancing out the window as you shuffle out of your clothes, you notice a small traffic jam has formed due to a car crash on the main road next to your apartment block. You grimace. Great. Just what you need – another obstacle before getting some much-needed rest. Sighing as you step into the bathroom, you turn on the hot water in the shower, hoping the steam will help clear your head. As the small room fills with warmth, your phone buzzes again persistently on the counter.

This time, the guilt wins the battle. Ignoring the dull ache behind your eyes, you stretch out a soapy arm and grab the phone, the screen momentarily obscured by a sheen of water. A glance at the caller ID reveals it's not Jaehyun but your mother. A flicker of surprise shoots through you – your mom rarely calls you so early on the weekends.

"Eomma," you answer, your voice echoing slightly in the shower. The sound of your own voice, hoarse and scratchy, makes you wince.

"There you are! I've been trying to reach you all afternoon," your mom's voice comes through, laced with a hint of panic that sends a jolt through you. "Have you seen the news?"

Panic claws at your throat, mirroring the tightening sensation in your stomach. News? With a growing dread, you picture flashing headlines about military disputes or other political turmoils.

"No, I haven't," you manage, the steam making your voice even more raspy. "What's going on?"

The sound of your mother taking a deep breath reaches you through the receiver. It's a shaky breath, unlike the usual sigh of exasperation she reserves for your life.

"There's been an outbreak," she says, her voice tight. "An airborne virus. They're calling it 'Zen II'. The government just announced a city-wide lockdown will be initiated tomorrow. You must get into your car and drive to Incheon immediately."

The phone feels slick in your wet hand. Lockdown? A new virus? You thought you'd never have to deal with all of that again, how could the government let it get this far without a word leaking to the press. A million questions bombard your mind, but the hot water stinging your skin reminds you of your immediate situation.

"Okay, Mom. I'll start packing and try to make it home before midnight," you say, forcing your voice to stay calm. "But what about Jaehyun? Are they saying something about the military?"

"There'll be more information on the news. Jaehyun will probably get leave as well, don't worry. I will talk to his mother and call you back. Try to shower quickly, would you."

The line goes dead before you can ask anything further.

You stare at the phone, a cold dread settling in your stomach. Guilt crashes over you like a wave – the after-effects of last night's work gathering suddenly feel trivial compared to the news your mother just delivered. You should have gone home and been preparing for this, not nursing a hangover in the shower. You force yourself to focus. Packing. That's what you need to do. Food, water, essentials – the same drill you went through years ago feels chillingly familiar.

With a sigh that echoes off the wet tiles, you step out of the shower, the chill of the apartment contrasting sharply with the hot water. Wrapping yourself in a towel, you grab your phone and scramble for a dry spot.

It would be nice to check the news for yourself. As you open the news app, an old notification pops up – a message from Jaehyun. Your heart leaps momentarily before sinking again. You were supposed to meet tomorrow for family visitation, there's no way that's still on.

01:43 Hey love, I just got off duty. Did you make it home okay?

In your drunken stupor, you hadn't even let him know you would be staying over at Naeun's. You bite your lip, the weight of your actions pressing down on you. Ignoring Jaehyun's text for now, you toss your towel aside and rush to your closet.

Clothes are thrown onto the bed in a flurry - jeans, t-shirts, a warm hoodie. You rummage through drawers, shoving socks and underwear into your only suitcase.

Suddenly, a loud BANG echoes from outside your window. Your heart jumps into your throat. Adrenaline surges through you, so you race to the window and fling open the blinds. Your breath hitches. The traffic jam you noticed earlier has become a scene of chaos. Cars are abandoned, doors flung open. In the distance, you could hear a loud ambulance siren echo through your double-paned glass window.

Your stomach lurches. It's real. Zen II. The news reports you missed must have been filled with all the details. But there's no time to dwell on that now. You grab your phone, and Jaehyun's message flashes on the screen, mocking you. With trembling fingers, you type a quick reply.

14:27 I'm sure you have heard about the lockdown by now. I'm on my way to my parent's house. Stay safe. I love you.

You hit send without proofreading, shoving the phone back into your bag. A second, another bang erupts from downstairs, closer this time. It's probably coming from the car park below your apartment building.

Panic thrums through your veins. You grab your suitcase bag and sprint towards the door and the brightly lit elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator descended, each floor seeming to take an eternity. The tension in the air is so unfamiliar to the ride upstairs that it feels like it was yesterday and not an hour ago. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the anxious gasps escaping your lips.

The doors finally slid open, revealing the dimly lit car park. You scanned the rows of parked cars, searching for your familiar blue sedan. There. In the spot somewhere across from the elevator. Relief flooded your system momentarily before a wave of nausea washed over you. Your car wasn't facing forward the way you left it yesterday. It was backed in, haphazardly at that, one bumper dented and scraping against the concrete wall.

Anger flared, hot and sharp, momentarily eclipsing the anxiety gnawing at your gut. Who did this? Some careless driver amid the chaos? It didn't matter. Whoever it was had just thrown a wrench into your escape plan.

You quickly approached your car, the silence broken only by the sound of your suitcase's wheels bumping against the concrete floor. Reaching the dented bumper, you peered through the driver's side window. The airbags had deployed, but the keys, thankfully, were still in the ignition.

But a flicker of movement in the back seat caught your eye. You froze, breath catching in your throat. A low, guttural moan rose from within the vehicle.

Panic rocketed through you, momentarily eclipsing the nausea. A figure, its silhouette vaguely humanoid but grotesquely contorted, lunged from the backseat of your car. Claws, long and dripping with something viscous, scraped uselessly against the glass, missing you by a hair's breadth. You lurch backwards, the suitcase wheels screeching as they scrape across the concrete. Your foot gets caught on an uneven edge, sending you sprawling onto the grimy floor.

Pain flared in your ankle, but it was quickly overshadowed by a new terror. A strangled scream ripped from your throat as you scrambled to your feet, heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

Your eyes darted around the dimly lit car park, searching for an escape route.

Just then, headlights cut through the gloom, bearing down on you with terrifying speed. With a screech of tyres, the car slammed to a halt mere inches from where you stood, the force of it momentarily knocking the wind out of your lungs.

Squinting through the sudden brightness, you recognized the car – it was Changmin's jeep, one you usually see on your way to university. The passenger's door swung open, and the man you recognized from the elevator wordlessly grabbed your suitcase and pushed you into the car's back seat.

"Wait, what are-" you ask before he tries to shut the door in your face.

"Just get in," he barked, his voice gruff, "We don't have much time."

Before you could question his urgency, you noticed the man sitting beside you. This man, younger and with a mop of unruly hair, held out a hand to help you settle in with your suitcase. Ignoring the throbbing pain in your ankle, you grabbed his hand and slid into the middle seat. The taller male quickly pulled your suitcase in after you, slamming the door shut and getting into his own seat just as another guttural moan echoed from behind your car.

Through the rearview mirror, you caught a glimpse of the horrifying figure clawing uselessly at the empty space where you once stood. A wave of nausea hit you again, but you forced it down. Now wasn't the time to be sick.

"Sorry for Younghoon, we're all just a little rattled," the man beside you explained, his voice surprisingly calm. "We were by the exit when we heard you scream, thank god we arrived in time. My name's Chanhee, by the way."

"Hi," you breathe out, frazzled and introduce yourself.

The engine roared to life, tyres screeching against the concrete as Changmin peeled out of the car park. The familiar street outside your apartment building now had an unsettling air – abandoned cars haphazardly blocking lanes, overturned trash cans, and the occasional flicker of flames in the distance painted a picture of a city in descent.

"Where are we going?" you asked, clutching your suitcase tightly.

Changmin glanced at you briefly through the rearview mirror, his jaw clenched tight. "The nearest express bus station. It's a gamble, but it's our best chance to get out of the city before the lockdown clamps down hard."

"Shouldn't we stop by a convenience store? Just in case?" Chanhee chimed in from the passenger seat.

"There is no time, Seoul is the only city that is currently afflicted" Changmin replied, "The lockdown will seal the city soon, and who knows what will happen then. We need to get outside the city limits. Do you have somewhere to stay?"

You realize the last question was directed towards you, "Yes. Yes, my parents are waiting for me in Incheon."

You watched Changmin take in your words as silence settled for a moment.

"What about your boyfriend?"

"My fiance," you reply, "He's stationed in Yangju."

"That's not too far, but I doubt they are letting the soldiers go anywhere with a zombie outbreak."

The word "zombie" echoed in your mind. It felt strange, almost unreal. Throughout your life, it had been confined to the pages of comic books and the flickering screens of horror movies. It sounded absurd.

"Those things," you collect your thoughts, "They were human?"

You watch Changmin through the rearview mirror as his eyebrows furrow and unfurrow at your question.

"That's what they're saying."

The express bus station loomed closer, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. But even as relief flickered in your heart, you knew the real challenge was just beginning. Reaching the station was one thing; securing passage on a bus out of the city was entirely another.

"Do you think they'll be letting people on the buses?" you asked, voicing the worry gnawing at your gut. Images of desperate crowds and overflowing buses flashed through your mind.

Chanhee shook his head, his youthful optimism tempered by the grim reality around them. "Maybe. Maybe not. But it's our best bet. We just have to get there and hope for the best."

His words offered little comfort, but they were all you had. Gripping your aching ankle tighter, a silent prayer escaped your lips as Changmin slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt.

You had arrived.

[silverlightqueen]

prom committee: the reunion masterlist 🌸

ot8!skz x reader x ot11!tbz uni!smau - crack humour, angst, fluff

It’s been 5 years since that fateful detention in which Mr Lee formed his Prom Committee with a group of 9 people who couldn’t have been more different. Despite them becoming closer than family by the time prom came around, they’re no longer the best friends they used to be, age and distance having not been kind to them. But what will happen when Mr Lee reaches out to y/n with a proposition she can’t turn down? The short answer: absolute chaos.

prom committee masterlist (you don’t have to have read the first one to read this one but it would help!)

simmy’s navi

part one - character (re)introductions

part two - character introductions

part three - griddy down the aisle

[westofessos]

Back to You

A/N: . . . I did a thing. I’ve never posted a fic on here before (if you like sub-par, half-finished, semi-abandoned fics, I’m west_of_westeros on wattpad), and this was written very quickly and very hastily edited so watch out for that. Also I think this is the first time I’ve written anything that wasn’t a character x an OC?? so they very well might be OOC.

Anyway, tell me what you think. Maybe I’ll post more, I don’t know.

Pairing: MJF/Adam Cole

Warnings: None? I mean it’s a bit sad but nothing serious.

Word Count: 1,877

Summary: Adam finally escapes from Roddy and the Kingdom, but is a bit too late. Bullet Club Gold has jumped Max in the ring, and after being ignored and alone for so long, Max believes that Adam no longer loves him.

FOR A FEW SECONDS, MAX THOUGHT HE WAS DYING. For a few seconds, as all four members of Bullet Club Gold kicked and punched and clawed at his defenceless body in the centre of the ring, he thought that this might be it. His whole body was on fire, pain shooting down every limb, down his back. His head ached from the piledriver Jay had given him, and the several following hard kicks from the Gunns.

He couldn’t hear anything. Not the crowd’s horrified shouts, not the sound of fists and boots and chairs hitting skin, not Bullet Club Gold screaming in his face about how he was worthless and useless and Jay is everything you’re not and it’s no wonder Adam left you. Not even his own strained, pathetic yelps of pain.

His eyes were screwed shut, and he felt like he was back in school again, lying helpless on the ground in the hallway as his bullies laid into him. Back when he would just lie down, close his eyes, and pray that it would be over soon. He did the same thing now, just closed his tear-filled eyes and prayed for it to end. He would hate himself for it later, when he remembered how he’d cowered from their blows even though he was outnumbered four to one. This was a moment he would never let himself forget, something he would kick himself over for years to come.

But that was later. Now, all he wanted was for it to end so he could make it to the self-loathing part.

And then it did. The kicking and punching and screaming stopped, and everything quieted. He felt gentle hands on his arms, and a soothing voice spoke to him, though he still couldn’t hear very well. “Max,” the voice said, its tone soothing. He jerked away from the soft touch on his bruising skin, terrified that it was all a trick to get him comfortable, make him feel safe, and then hurt him again. “Max, it’s me. It’s okay. I’m here, they’re not gonna hurt you anymore.”

He opened his teary eyes and was met with a pair of ice blue ones that were filled with concern. Adam, he thought absentmindedly, as the pain began to be too much, Adam came for me.

It was his last thought as he drifted away into unconsciousness.

THERE WAS A HAND CLUTCHING HIS. That was the first and only thought in his head as he finally came to, other than the way his brain seemed to be pounding against his skull. There was a hand clutching his so tight he thought he might lose the feeling in it soon.

When his eyes opened, they were met with walls so white they burned them, and he became suddenly aware of what he was wearing. A thin paper gown, and nothing else. The hospital, he realized. They must’ve really kicked the shit out of me.

“Max?” The same voice from before, and the owner of the hand cutting off his circulation. Adam.

Slowly, he began to remember. They were beating the shit out of me, I thought that was the end, they stopped, and then Adam was there. He knew that it had to have been Adam that stopped them, Adam that saved him. And for a moment, all he felt was a rush of love and relief.

But only for a moment, because other memories came back to him, too. Memories of Adam leaving him to get surgery, only to put it off for weeks to go help Roddy. Memories of Adam not answering his calls, leaving him alone and friendless, leaving him when he needed his help most, all for Roderick fucking Strong, who was clearly playing him.

But maybe Adam didn’t care that Roddy was playing him. Maybe he loved Roddy so much that he was willing to be tricked, to be strung along. Or maybe it was Adam who’d been playing Max. Pretending to be his friend, making him need him, making him love him, only to leave when Max needed him most. Maybe Adam had never loved him at all.

Suddenly, Max was angry. It was Wembley all over again only this time he was sure, sure that, at best, Adam had chosen Roddy over him, and at worst, he’d never cared about him at all. This time, he was sure there would be no reconciliation, no hug, no whispered ‘I love you’s, no shared car ride back to the hotel with their fingers intertwined. This time, it was real.

He tore his hand out of Adam’s grasp and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His clothes were draped over a chair in the corner, and he grabbed them before shoving his legs into his pants. Every bit of motion made the room spin, but he didn’t care. He just had to get out of that room. Away from Adam, away from the memories, away from the ache in his heart, away from all of it.

Adam, confused, rose from the chair he sat in at Max’s bedside and walked around the bed to where he sat. “Max, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer Adam’s question, didn’t even acknowledge that he was there. He ripped the hospital gown off of his body and slipped his arms into his shirt. He didn’t bother to do up the buttons before sliding on his shoes and pushing past Adam, making for the door.

“Max, you have a concussion, you can’t leave!” Adam called after him. “Max, come on!”

His fingers had only just brushed the handle on the door when Adam’s wrapped around his wrist, halting his movement. His jaw set, he turned to face the other man. “Let go.” His voice was low, cold, and his eyes didn’t dare meet Adam’s.

“Not until you tell me what’s going on.” The fact that he was pretending not to know made it so much worse.

“You left me.” He ripped his arm away from Adam and shoved him squarely in the chest. Adam’s brows furrowed in confusion as he stumbled backward from the force of it, and his eyes filled to the brim with tears and a profound look of hurt.

Anger surged within him at that look, rising to the surface and exploding out in the way it always used to, before he learned to control it. Before Adam. “When I needed you most, you left me! And it would’ve been fine, I would’ve managed, if you had actually gone to get surgery, if you were actually recovering from your injury. But no, you were with him! You left me for him! You weren’t there when I needed you, you wouldn’t even answer my calls, all because you were with him!”

With him, with him, with him. He couldn’t stop saying it. You left me for him, you care about him, you love him. The jealousy and betrayal consumed him entirely.

His chest heaved, and the room began to tilt again, but he didn’t care. “You never gave a shit about me, did you?” He asked then, his voice lowering to barely above a whisper. “It was always him. You were just fucking with me. I bet the two of you had a real good laugh these past few weeks, watching me getting the shit kicked out of me, getting my belt stolen, being completely alone, didn’t you? Didn’t you?”

By the time he was finished, Adam’s clear blue eyes were filled with tears. “Oh, Max.” He grabbed Max’s hand and held it firm, even when the other man tried to pull away. “Please, just listen to me.”

Even after everything, even as his heart was breaking, he couldn’t say no to Adam’s plea.

When Max didn’t pull back or tell him to go to hell, Adam began. “Yes, I put off my surgery to go help Roddy. I thought he needed me, and remember, you told me to go. When I got there, he gave me all these insane things to do because he was hurt and couldn’t, even though Matt and Mike were there the whole time. Every time I tried to leave, he gave me something else to do under the guise of needing me. But he didn’t need me at all, he was just trying to keep me there, to keep me away from you. I kept trying to call you, but there was no cell service, no internet. I wanted to watch you on Dynamite, but he didn’t even have a TV.

“Max, you were right the whole time. He was faking his injury, he just wanted to make me feel sorry for him. This morning I finally had enough and tried to leave, but he, Matt, and Mike came after me. I had to fight all three of them off, and I probably fucked up my foot even more and I should’ve gone straight to the hospital, but I just wanted to see you.

“So please, please don’t tell me that I don’t care about you when all I have been doing for weeks is trying to get back to you.”

His head screamed at him to leave. To shove Adam to the ground and cut all ties and save himself even more heartbreak, because clearly, clearly he was lying. He had to be. Adam didn’t love Max, he couldn’t. Everyone who had ever claimed to love him had left. No one had ever actually loved him. He was unloveable. Always had been, always would be.

His heart, on the other hand, ached to believe him. To take everything Adam said as the god’s honest truth, and never doubt him again. He had longed to have Adam back for weeks, and all of a sudden he was in front of him again, begging to be taken back.

All I have been doing for weeks is trying to get back to you.

Fuck it. He’d let his fear dictate every decision he ever made in every single relationship he had ever been in. And yeah, it had always turned out to be for the best. Everyone always left him and broke his heart. But fuck it, there was no one he would rather have break his heart than the man standing in front of him. He would let Adam Cole break him and put him back together again a thousand times if it meant they got to spend one more day together.

He pulled his hand out of Adam’s, and for a second, he saw the other man’s heart drop. But only for a second, because soon he was wrapping his arms around Adam and pulling him in for a tight embrace.

Adam was stiff for a moment or two, shocked at the turn of events, but he soon relaxed and returned the hug, winding his arms around Max’s frame and squeezing. Max’s head dropped onto his shoulder, and Adam’s hand found its way to the back of his neck, thumb gently stroking the skin there.

“I love you, Max,” Adam murmured, right next to his ear. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he whispered in return.

Yes, he decided. Another heartbreak would be more than worth it for this.

[nujins]

must be destiny [ ji changmin/q ] masterlist

synopsis: you're sunwoo's younger cousin that just moved in with him and his family in seoul after an event that forced you out of your own home. after he lets you tag along with him on one of his hangouts with his friends, you find yourself becoming intrigued with a certain bright-eyed boy named changmin. little do you know, you've been in his radar for a while, and that this fateful chance was a sign for him that you were his long-lost "the one". pairing: non!idol ji changmin (q) x non!idol fem!reader genre: college!au, brother's (cousin's) best friend, strangers to frenemies to friends to more than friends (?) to lovers, mutual pining, so much fluff, crack, a little angst (i hate y/n's fam here sm lol), they both think they fell first and just fell in love harder over time, idiots in love, destiny, fake dating (?) author's notes: the personality of the characters here does not reflect the idols' real-life personality. i put my own twist to them so if they "say" something here that does not fit your liking, do not send any of the idols any hate. also, i might mention a few physical characteristics that y/n has in this fic that might not fit your actual look, so pls be considerate and not go around complaining about it lol. everything is fictional, ofc, but i really hope that you guys will be invested in these two dumbasses' love story as though it was real. updates will be weekly and/or spontaneous because i'm still a student. status: in the making / chapters unpublished warnings: cursing, suggestive / sexual content (there's barely any, just mentions of it, i'm still a minor duh), kms/kys, your mom, and other lame jokes, family issues (y/n's family here needs their own type of trigger warning fr), annoying ass idiots who are obviously in love that will frustrate you fr taglist: open! ... @inthesunnn @kyusqult @rksbae @deobiforever @gluion

CHAPTERS / TABLE OF CONTENTS!

chapter oo. teaser

chapter oo. new home, new me? chapter oi. "feelings aren't fact" chapter ii. catch my eyes, catch my heart chapter iii. fate must be kidding me ... more to be added ...

(i'm going to link the chapters if i've already posted them so don't worry! hope you guys will enjoy!)

[jinisnuggets]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝔹𝕠𝕪𝕫 𝕥𝕪𝕡𝕖𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝔻𝕠𝕞'𝕤/𝕊𝕦𝕓'𝕤

𝕆𝕥𝟙𝟙

ℍ𝕪𝕦𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕚𝕟𝕖 + 𝕂𝕖𝕧𝕚𝕟

ᵖᵃⁱʳⁱⁿᵍˢ: ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸᶻ ʰʸᵘⁿᵍ ˡⁱⁿᵉ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ (ᵍᵉⁿᵈᵉʳ ⁿᵉᵘᵗʳᵃˡ)

ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ: 0.8ᵏ

ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍˢ: ˢʷᵉᵃʳ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ, ᵐᵘˡᵗⁱᵖˡᵉ ᵈᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵘᵇ ᵗʸᵖᵉˢ, ᵐᵉᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᶠ ᵒʳᵍᵃˢⁱᵐˢ, ᵗᵇᶻ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿⁿᵒⁿˢ

Sangyeon, The Master Dom

Sangyeon may be a kind and gentle guy, but boy this man loves to have all the control he can possibly have in his hands, so the bed is absolutely no exception.

He's the type of guy who enjoys to make you yell his name out and force you to get into positions/clothing that you may find uncomfortable. He will punish you if you refuse to do what he asks, and and he has lots of things he could do to you. Whether it's spanking, light choking, or to push his entire length inside of you and fuck you until you cum.

However after your session ends he will be the sweetest angel ever and will take care of you as much as possible, he really enjoys aftercare because you visibly are weak and exhausted. He lays a bunch of blankets on you, gets you your favorite foods and snacks as you sit together and watch a movie.

Jacob, a Gentle Switch

Jacob can have his both bottom and top moments, he doesn't really prefer one over the other.

Okay, Jacob is sensitive to touch, like.. REALLY sensitive, so it doesn't take him long to let out his first orgasm. However, when Jacob is on the top, he is superior to anyone and anything. There is nothing that can stop this man from going his hardest just to show you how much he loves you.

Although yes, he does have his rough moments, Jacob tends to be very soft and gentle when it comes to sex and is often more worried about you then himself, aftercare is filled with hugs, cuddles and a warm shower together.

Younghoon, Daddy Dom

Younghoon is not "Younghoon" during a session, he will force you to call him "daddy" or "master" during funtime and will refuse to accept anything else other than that.

Younghoon typically isn't a very aggressive time when it comes to sex and he is normally very calm and collective with it, however, like Sangyeon, if you disobey him or call him something other then what he prefers, then well... good luck.

Younghoon is very calm when it comes to aftercare as well, he will make sure you get everything you need or want and will order from your absolute favorite restaurant. He will get your favorite meal, drink and snack and will make sure you are as relaxed as possible .

Hyunjae, Bratty Sub

I am very convinced that Hyunjae is that type of bratty sub, he enjoys to tease and disobey as much as possible just to push your buttons. He'll do anything to make you try to shut him up as he knows it'll make you take things faster.

However after he pushed all your possible buttons, he will regret ever teasing you in the first place. I also see Hyunjae being sensitive and will get angry if you stop or slow down on pleasuring him. He enjoys getting all your attention and wants you to cherish his body. Technically becoming a "Prince sub"

Aftercare will be you taking care of him, he will be want yoh to cuddle him until he falls asleep and afterwards help him wash off, he sleeps like a baby everytime you and him do the dirty, and he will always be clingy afterwards, not wanted to be away from you for a second.

Juyeon, Soft Switch

During fun time, nothing is impossible for Juyeon. Typically, Juyeon prefers and starts every session being the top, but once the tables turn oh boy.

Juyeon is the type of primal dom who enjoys being rough with you for the time he's dom, he makes you do things like suck him out, make him cum, call him "master", but when you decide to switch the roles... Juyeon becomes the biggest sub of all time, he will be begging you to slow down or stop even though he obviously doesn't mean it.

Even so, Juyeon will still insist of taking care of you afterwards but you obviously don't allow him to do all the work, he will also get his own treatment and even though he won't show it.. he loves when you show obvious care and concern for him.

Kevin, Submissive Switch

Kevin loves when you top him, although that doesn't mean he himself doesn't enjoy being top.

Kevin ain't rough when it comes to sex either, he typically knows your boundaries and is very respectful towards them. He will ask permission before taking on anything and will always check up on you, however he can also have his moments where he completes forgets that you might be in pain and his brain completely takes over.

When Kevin becomes the bottom though, it's very simple for Kevin to easily loose control and cum, he has very soft moans and often will try to avoid being loud, which he is normally good at doing, he does enjoy giving you aftercare and enjoys talking about his favorite parts of your entire session.

[biaswreckingfics]

hiii you're one of my fave writers on this app without a doubt 😻 congratulations on your milestone!!! can i request bae173 "every little thing is you" with tbz jacob uwu 👉👈

Omg, thank you so much!! 😭😭❤️❤️

Jacob + Fluff

Song Inspiration: Every Little Thing is You by bae173

The moment you step foot into your apartment, you freeze. The dim lighting has you immediately confused and you glance around your living room to find every open space filled with lit candles. You didn't even own candles.

"Jacob?"

When he had asked for the keys to your apartment, you didn't think anything of it. You assumed he wanted a place to hang out or crash, and as his best friend, you always offered up your apartment. This, however, is the last thing you expected.

Jacob comes wandering down the hallway when he hears your voice. A bright smile rests on his face as he greets you and takes your jacket. The behavior paired with the candles suddenly has you on edge. What is he up to?

"Follow me." He takes your hand and pulls you toward the dining room table, where you find a mini home-cooked feast waiting for you. Jacob sweeps his arm over the food and says, "Ta-da!"

"Jacob…" you slowly say. "What is this?"

A nervous look crosses his features, but he tries to cover it with a smile. "It's a thank you."

As you try to take it all in, Jacob pulls out a chair for you and you slowly sink into it. "A thank you?"

Jacob nods while he sits in his own seat. He then stares at the food, pondering what he wants to say next.

"You've always been there for me. Ever since I started training and throughout my entire career as a musician. I know I told you once before, back when my career started, that I couldn't put all of my effort into a relationship. That I couldn't give you everything you deserved… Stubbornly, you said you'd wait for me until I was ready… This is my way of letting you know that I'm ready, and if it's my turn to wait for you… Then, I've got plenty of time."

[luciathcv]

ᥫ᭡ the boyz masterlist

ᥫ᭡ guide: angst (a), fluff (f), suggestive (sg)

ᥫ᭡ kim sunwoo

why do i even like him? (f).(a)

ᥫ᭡ sohn youngjae

san sebastian (f) - part one

goodbye san sebastian (f) - part two

[hcuyk]

[ 18+ ] . . . . . . . . will the inferno rekindle?

[ OUR INFERNO ] WORD COUNT : THREAD

OUR INFERNO elaborates the complexities within a relationship—the spark, the blaze, the pain. your love with hyunjae is a never ending fire; it's something so strong, so beautiful and powerful, that it suffocates you both into believing that your relationship would last, only for it to go down in flames.

C—URRENT WOR—D . C—OUNT : 22k

please consider supporting by joining my taglist(s)!!

—-—-— i want us to experience this journey together <3

OUR INFERNO —T—AGLIST <- | -> PERM—T—AGLIST

lovely beta readers : @simpforsunwoo @stealanity @drunkdrazed @winterchimez — they own my heart

THERE WILL BE A HAECHAN VERSION AS WELL

< 4/16 > scene five (final rewrite) : 3219 : finished

< 4/16 > scene five (third draft) : 2481 : finished

< 4/15 > scene five (second draft) : 408 : discontinued

< 4/14 > scene five (first draft) : 2091 : unfinished

< 4/14 > chapter one : 19272 : posted!

< 4/12 > scene four (final rewrite) : 10261 : finished

< 4/11 > scene four (final rewrite) : 3219 : unfinished

< 4/10 > scene four (final rewrite) : 1492 : finished

< 4/9 > scene four (second rewrite) : 7485 : finished

< 4/9 > scene four (second rewrite) : 1745 : unfinished

< 4/8 > scene four (first rewrite) : 855 : discontinued

< 4/8 > scene three (final rewrite) : 3070 : finished

< 4/8 > scene three (final rewrite) : 2859 : unfinished

< 4/7 > scene four (first draft) : 1549 : finished

< 4/7 > scene three (final rewrite) : 2114 : finished

< 3/24 > scene three (first draft) : 1372 : finished

< 3/24 > scene two (final rewrite) : 2134 : finished

< 3/24 > scene two (second draft) : 1568 : finished

< 3/23 > scene two (first rewrite) : 2334 : finished

< 3/23 > scene two (first draft) : 1379 : finished

< 3/22 > scene one (revisions) : 3535 : finished

< 3/22 > scene one (final rewrite) : 3482 : finished

< 3/22 > scene one (first rewrite) : 2727 : finished

< 3/22 > scene one (first draft) : 1290 : finished

[loverseon]

SOUL SWAP .ᐟ moodboard

— just a little visual teaser .ᐟ (mainly to push my own motivation) but also for your imagination ☆

[peach-jaehyunie]

Prologue: Get My Pretty Name Outta Your Mouth

Pairing: YN/Multi Genre: Mafia AU, Gangs, Revenge, Knife play as foreplay Warnings: Swearing, Implied sexual content, Violence Rating: 18+ Words: 4.1k Groups: NCT, WAYV, TXT, The Boyz

Character intros: Y/N “With a Twist, Lee Juyeon “Iceman”, Jung Jaehyun “The Tiger’, Choi Yeonjun “Smiley”, Choi Soobin “Lemon”, Jacob Bae “Molotov”, Qian Kun “Grim Reaper”

“You really purr like a cat when you want something,” you offhandedly remark as you go around picking up trinkets, examining them, and putting them back down.

“That’s how I got my name, you know” Jung Jaehyun, “The Tiger”, sits down on his bed loosening his tie. His legs are carelessly spread and his knees are bent almost as if he were crouching because of how low the mattress is to the floor. 

You can feel his eyes on you, analyzing your every move through the glass panels that separate his room from where you were exploring his bachelor pad. ‘Cocky fuck, you can see right into his bedroom as soon as you walk in.’ Your skin prickles as the only rooms left unexplored are the bedroom and bathroom, and you take careful steps towards the glass he was still watching you from behind. Jaehyun removes his tie completely, tossing it carelessly towards the foot of his bed as you lean against his dresser. Your eyes meet from across the room and his expression turns somewhat predatory as he begins to unbutton his shirt collar. Hating the way he looks at you, you turn to examine the watches he had laid out on the dresser. Some were sporty and sleek, others were jewel encrusted and they all felt heavy in your hands.

“Aren’t you gonna ask why I brought you here?” 

You turn back to face him on the bed, smirking at him; though you had very much been wondering why he wanted to see you in such personal quarters. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to tell me,” you don’t miss the way his eyes wander to your leg that shows through the slit in your dress as you take a few steps towards him. 

Jaehyun sat forward letting his eyes slowly travel from your leg back up to your face when he spoke his next words:

“I want what you have hidden between your legs.”

You scoff, but your eyes remain cold as steel: the only thing hidden between your legs was a defensive weapon.

“I assure you that there is nothing between my legs that would be of any interest to you.”

“Okay, I’ll bite again,” he says as he stands up and closes the gap between you “How about what you have hidden between your breasts?”

If you were being honest, it was a bit of a surprise tonight when you had been instructed to meet someone from Purgatory and waiting for you at the bar was their best hitman. 

“I suppose you think women only have two hiding spots.” you speak in an even, liquid tone as if your voice could bathe Jaehyun’s entire form.

“Not at all; but last time I took a special interest in what was between your thighs.” 

Jaehyun had circled you and come up behind to rest his chin on your shoulder. His words made you feel a little warm, and his touch made the contents of your stomach churn in a bad way. Of course your dumb luck would have it that they would send The Tiger out to meet you tonight; just incase you were to trying to pull a slick one on the most powerful mob in town.

“I hope you weren’t expecting some rookie tonight that doesn’t know all the tricks you have in your little bag of goodies.” His breath is hot against your neck, but it makes your innards ice cold.

“I hate to disappoint you,” you say, turning to face him, “But I have no tricks tonight and you’ve wasted your time bringing me here.” 

Jaehyun steps in really close to you, his body pressing into yours but you have no intention to step back just yet—even when you can feel the mostly forgotten revolver in his pocket imprinting against you.

“Then where’s the chip, little Twist?”

“Hidden,” you smile at him, taking a little step back “In plain sight.” 

Jaehyun’s eyes scan you for a moment, he’s just about had enough of playing tiger and mouse. You want out of his apartment as quickly as possible, so you bring your hand to the beautiful ear cuff encrusted with diamonds that you wear and remove it. 

“Hand it over.” He puts his hand out to you, stopping you from where you were just about to place the ear cuff on his bedside table. 

Slowly, you stretch your hand out to his; your other hand ready to reach for the blade hidden between your thighs in case he tries anything. You drop it into his outstretched palm, turning to leave—your job is done.

“Not so fast,” that’s what you were afraid of: his boss didn’t just want the chip, he wanted information. 

“So that’s why you wanted me to come home with you.” 

You don’t look at him, your back is still to Jaehyun and you look straight ahead as you speak. 

“Well...we have some fond memories here, too.” He chuckles as you hear him pat the bed. 

“I think once was enough—“

“Three times wasn’t it?”

The cocky tone in his voice is unmistakable, you need to get out before you get caught in the intricate web of lies and fantasies he spins.

“I got it in an unmarked envelope, I don’t know who sent it.” You change the subject completely, hoping he forgets the ludicrous ideas about getting you back into his bed. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“There was no name—“

“I believe that part,”

“No fingerprints,”

“Understandable,”

“There wasn’t a note or anything, so I really—“

“See, that’s the problem, Twist: my instincts and sources tell me that’s bullshit.”

His sources, see that was the real problem: everyone here ratted on everyone else and the Grim Reaper always found out. His little moles lived in every gutter and vent. 

“It just said ‘Use it well’,”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all,” you hoped the slump in your shoulders was imperceptible.

“Well, I guess if that’s all then you can go...I always can find you later if I have any questions.”

Hopefully the little information leaves less of a chance for blood on your hands. You don’t even take one last look at the apartment: hoping you’ll never see it—or its inhabitant—again.

You got in the elevator alone, remarkably calm for someone who had just spent the evening with one of the most dangerous people in the city. Taking out your phone and typing in the password (as fingerprint print codes and face recognition were more lethal in this line of work), you open up your messages app and click on an icon of an angel with the nickname ‘Cobie’.

<<It’s done>> you text him. 

<<That took longer than I expected>> he replied just as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. 

The lobby was empty so you decided to text him back:

<<they sent the tiger>>

You sighed, exiting the lobby your stomach still feeling a little iffy with the gnawing feeling of being watched. You wouldn’t doubt that there were cameras set up to monitor who came and went from his building. Filled taxis passed by not looking for any more passengers. The night air prickled your skin as you waited for an Uber to arrive. 

“Where are you going?” the driver asked once you were seated.

You named a busy street off the top of your head, pulling out your phone again as it vibrates in your hand.

“Where are you going?” The voice on the phone asked you before you could even say ‘hello’.

“Location 4,” you lean over to check the GPS on the dash “In about eight minutes.” 

The line immediately disconnects; pressing your lips into a thin line, you endure the rest of the ride in silence—the driver seems to sense that you are in no mood to talk. The transition works something like a well oiled machine: effortlessly you step out of your Uber onto the curb of a busy nightlife hub, and just as your Uber is pulling away a dark vehicle with dark windows pulls up  and you climb inside. 

“Hey, Smiley,” 

The yellow-blond-haired man in the driver’s seat grinned as he looked into the rearview mirror. This car ride was even more silent, Smiley kept his eyes on the road or diligently checking the mirrors. You had never known him to take the same route twice, he didn’t need a map he just drove: roundabout ways, shortcuts, handling vehicles through narrow alleys as easily as if he were on a highway. You finally took the other earring out and put it in your clutch as Smiley pulled up in front of a warehouse fitted with garage doors. He maneuvered to one of the entrances, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel before a motor sounded from inside the warehouse and the door began to rise. Within the warehouse was a garage; cars of different sizes and makes each parked in their own bays, a little office was in the corner and light shone through its barred windows. 

There was a strange mix of smells when you opened your door to get out once Smiley had pulled into a bay; motor oil, chemical cleaners, and a distinct odour of candles that had just been blown out. Smiley didn’t move from his seat, he had pulled out his phone and was absentmindedly chewing gum as he scrolled. You sat there with the door open for a minute, waiting for him to say something or make a move to get out of the car. Smiley must have become aware that you were waiting on him as he finally put his phone back in his pocket, clearing his throat as he turned to look at you. A little groan escaped your mouth when his bruised eye and split lip finally came into your view. He chuckled at your reaction, but there was no hiding how tender his lip must have felt as he winced. 

“I thought you seemed quieter than usual.”

“It stings a bit to talk,” tentatively he brought his fingers up to his split lip “And where my lip ring is it kinda got smashed right into my gums on the bottom.” He pulled his lip down to show you his bloody gum below his front teeth. You shook your head, turning away from him so he didn’t catch your eye roll.

“The other guy looks way better, no doubt,” came a voice and you were suddenly face to face with a young guy who stuck his head through your open door. 

Eric was smiling and he offered you a hand as you stepped out of the vehicle. 

“I’m a pretty nice guy, I let them off with just a scrape,” Smiley defended as he finally got out of the vehicle and tossed the keys to Eric. 

Eric searched through the pockets of his coveralls before pulling out another set of keys and tossing them back to Smiley. 

You and Smiley said your good-byes to Eric, walking over to a car parked near the office where framed baseball jerseys hung displaying the name ‘SOHN’. 

Smiley’s car smelled sweet, as though Juicy Fruit gum had been marinated into the seats. 

“Anything interesting tonight?” He asked as he pulled back out onto the road.

You thought back to the hotel bar where you recognized Jaehyun—that was a story best kept between you and Jacob; especially the part where you went back to The Tiger’s apartment. You kept your expression still, only moving your head to look out the window.

“Tonight was uneventful.” You paused, clenching your thighs together so you could feel the firm outline of the navaja, “But I’m...in the market,” you trailed off.

Yeonjun’s head snapped to look at you, he cleared his throat and you were sure that if it had been light out his eyes would have been visibly sparkling. 

Maybe it was earlier than you thought because when Smiley pulled into the Azure Cross Bowling Alley the parking lot was full. 

“Busy tonight,” you offhandedly remarked.

“Yeah, um, we’ll go in the side entrance.”

He parked next to a little Mazda sedan, locking his car as you both got out. You followed him towards a metal door on the building, holding up your dress as you stepped around a few large dirty puddles before going inside. There was a faint throb of music to be heard through the walls, and a persistent hum of people talking from the alleys. It smelled like pizza and hamburgers, but you couldn’t hear any noise from the kitchen as you followed him down a hallway only lit with blue backstage lights towards the back of the building. ‘Employees Only’ read the sign on the door, Yeonjun unlocked it and you followed him into a cluttered office that was mostly taken up by a pool table that you couldn’t play pool on because it was covered with boxes of receipts and bank statements. A cluttered bookshelf built into the wall revealed another door; this room was sparse and industrial looking, longer than it was wide. 

“I have something that I think you might like,” Smiley energetically walked over to the left side of the room and pulled open a concealed drawer, “I only got it in a couple of days ago and I know you like—“

In his excitement, you were able to walk up close behind him and in the time it took for him to turn around there was a rattle of steel, and the navaja was pressed against his throat. He gulped. Once. His eyes found yours and he gulped a second time. The room was grey but his cheeks were very pink as you glared up at him and pressed the blade into his neck. 

Your expression softened, your eyes first and then your mouth followed suit breaking into a kind smile. It was the dull side of the blade. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve been wanting to try that all night; it’s more fun to practice on a person.” You close the knife and stow it back between your thighs as quickly as you had taken it out. 

“No worries,” Yeonjun looked a bit flustered for half a second, but more than quickly enough his face had returned to his characteristic smirk. 

He turned to the polished granite slab in the middle of the room, placing an object wrapped in cloth on the slab. You stepped up to the granite table, unwrapping the swaddled knife. It was a switchblade slightly longer than the one you were carrying, with a narrow engraved handle. 

“It’s a switchblade variety of Rampuri; a little ornate but still deadly. I have heard about some gravity versions, but haven’t come across any…” Smiley shrugged and half-sat on the granite table, one leg dangling as the other foot remained firmly planted on the floor. 

“May I” your hand hovered over the weapon as you met his eyes, taking this chance to once again survey his face and his thick, bruised but still enticing lips. 

His assent was nonverbal, and the Rampuri was soon in your deft fingers where you maneuvered it easily because of the knife’s well-engineered balance, twirling it and retracting the blade and releasing it a few times while pretending to draw it. 

“I like it,” you finally state, positioning the blade once more into its closed position “I need a few more throwing stars as well; I...missplaced a few last month.”

He gave you a wry smile at your admission, standing up from the table which he sat upon and opening another concealed and very shallow drawer. Yeonjun always had a great selection of shuriken, and without thinking too much about it you grabbed a blue one that was shaped like a snowflake out of the drawer and turned toward the far side of the room where Smiley had lowered a target. In a matter of seconds the steel found its purchase in the eye of the target; you straightened up, glancing back to where Yeonjun stood quietly near the still open drawer.

“It really never gets less impressive,” he remarked while his eyes remained transfixed on the embedded shuriken. 

“I agree; it’s a great party trick.” you quipped with a wink. “I’ll get an assortment of five of them,” you nodded your head towards the drawer. 

The lethal party tricks were stowed away when you parted with the blond and bruised weapons dealer; given the amount of crime in the city, you sincerely doubted you were his first or would be his last client of the night. He was one or the larger independent suppliers — you knew that gangs like Purgatory imported all their own — Smiley kept all the little players outfitted. That’s how he usually came to know too much information; his mouth could be just as dangerous as the weapons he peddled.

The bowling alley had turned down to a quiet muffle as you retraced your earlier steps up the hallway to an exit. Muffled singing of a soft-voiced woman permeated through the walls and into crevices, there was no din of victory as though a new strike had been made: it made the hallway feel emptier…and much larger. Quickening your pace, the arches of your feet burned in retaliation against your choice of heels. The adrenaline from earlier had worn off, and now you thought about who might have ratted you out to Purgatory or who might have seen you on the arm of The Tiger going up to his condo: and their spectre was your shadow as you hastened to the door.

“Twist,” The deep voice spoke barely above a whisper as you passed. 

Your head spun as he interrupted your thoughts, a tall and lanky figure appeared as though between a fissure in the wall where he had opened another door a crack. Soobin’s tousled black hair fell into his eyes, longer than it had been the last time you saw him, and there were dark half-moons beneath his eyes. Stopping long enough only to check that you were alone in the hallway, you slipped beneath his arm as he opened the door further to allow your entrance.

“Have you heard from Iceman?” he interrogated no sooner than he shut the door. 

You were shocked by the question, but didn’t let it show in your countenance. “Of course not, I barely know him.” you offhandedly remarked.

Soobin sighed and his demeanour softened, his face looked more youthful when he pouted and you were hit with a gentle pang when you remembered how young he still seemed to you. He rubbed his eyes and padded over to the organized mess of a desk. Monitors of graphs and numbers sat on every surface with notifications sliding into the the right hand corner of the screen every few seconds, choco pie wrappers and half finished salty snacks littered one side table, while surveillance footage broadcast on the wall 24/7.

“What was on it?” 

You knew what he was talking about; the chip, but chose to feign ignorance. “On what?”

“The chip — why did Purgatory want it, and who told them that knew you had it?” His questions made you grit your teeth.

“I only told one person. Maybe it was a set up,” The possibility of the latter made you angry; you didn’t appreciate being made a mockery of, or worse: used as bait. 

Soobin hesitated before he carefully phrased the next inquiry, “And do you trust the person you told?”

Your blood ran cold in your veins, and the downy hairs on your body bristled at the implication; if you couldn’t trust him then you couldn’t trust anyone. “With my life.” you declared.

The younger man nodded curtly at your words, he heard the finality in your tone and knew to push no further. Nevertheless, ice churned in your belly as it became more apparent that everyone knew you had either been betrayed or duped, knew that you were on Purgatory’s radar, knew that you had been in the den of an enemy and left unscathed. It was a bad time to be seen as amicable with one of the most dangerous and despised men in town, or to be aiding the most powerful. 

“Take this,” he held out a piece of brown paper ripped from a bag, you hesitated before accepting the scrawl denoting a location, time and date. “Burn it once you have it memorized.”

__________________________________

Molotov didn’t speak much on the way home to his apartment; both hands on the steering wheel and eyes on the road, but you could tell that he was smouldering beneath the facade — The Tiger had murdered his former gang member only weeks before. 

“Did you get anything out of him?” Jacob eventually asked when you arrived home, and for a moment you felt guilty that you hadn’t pressed Jaehyun for more information; even if you knew well enough that he never would have budged if he didn’t want to. 

“I wasn’t in much of a position to bargain.” you stated plainly, dropping your clutch and phone on the counter and heading to the bathroom to take a shower. 

“I guess he wouldn’t have said anything in public anyways.” He reasoned when you came out wearing a towel.

Jacob sat in deep contemplation on the aged sofa — for a moment you wondered if he had even been talking to you just a second ago, or if he had been trying to talk himself calmly through his rage and stifled desire for revenge. You hesitated for a moment at the door of the guest room where you kept enough of your belongings to spend a night; should you keep up the lie? Soobin’s expression from earlier flashed through your mind when you had said you trusted the person you confided in with your life; you would have to trust Jacob with this as well — before he found out from someone else. 

“We weren’t in public — at least not for very long,” out of the corner of your eye you saw him raise his head, “He took me back to his condo.”

Jacob looked as though he was about to stand up when he heard this.

“Don’t worry,” you interjected, “I already checked if he bugged me or anything like that.”

The figure on the sofa sank back into the cushions, but he was stiff and you recognized his thinking expression.

“Can I— Can I ask if you…slept with him?” He must’ve trusted you less than you thought.

“You can,” your voice was cold and deep, there was warning in it that Jacob surely heard. 

“Did you?” his tone was clear, undoubtedly perceiving that he was on thin ice, but still intrinsically needing an answer when he was still in mourning for a friend fallen victim to The Tiger's hand.

“Not this time.”

Only in the wee hours when you eventually heard Jacob retreat to his room did you exit to the balcony and burn the note from Soobin that you had memorized.

_____________________________________________

The sky threatened rain, a heavy gust of wind blew desiccated leaves down the sidewalk as pedestrians pulled their lightweight coats shut against the autumn chill that had crept into the air. You are lost in a small crowd of people waiting for the bus, glancing at every face to see if it belongs to someone you might be better to not run into. A bus pulls up, its wheels squealing to a halt and the tide of people begin to move towards its doors. You move with them but also against; you keep weaving to the back of the line until you are the only person left standing at the curb as you watch the doors close and the bus pull away. It’s just you and one of the last remaining phone booths in the city fifteen feet to your right. People walk by fully engrossed by their own personal conundrums — they don’t notice you, or the tinny ring of the phone. 

You pick up on the eighth ring: “Hello?”

It takes a moment for you to recognize the voice, and when it registers you can only wonder why the rogue would contact you. Ji Changmin’s best friend, AWOL assassin, the man who avowed to seek vengeance against The Tiger himself: Iceman.

[littleroaes]

THE BOYZ as teenage girls

warnings: unserious

Sangyeon thinks she’ll become the shit and all her problems will go away when she becomes an adult. dreams about driving a car and always says in the group chat that she’ll be the driver during road trips. has a little brother and is extremely competitive with him for no reason, even though he’s literally just rotting before the computer all day.

Jacob did one lesson of ballet and football when she was 4 and then quit. now she regrets not continuing because she could have either killed everyone at PE or been an ultimate coquette girlie.

Younghoon reads fluff fanfiction 24/7 and if not, angst just to feel something

Hyunjae films something funny at a sleepover with the girls and puts it on TikTok, it goes viral and now she wont stop clout chasing

Juyeon decided at 16 to read all classic literature novels. Franz Kafka changed her life and now, the only way she describes herself is by a big ass roach.

Kevin have had every single occupation you can have in a fandom. If she’s not an editor she’s making fan art on twt, when that doesn’t do well she writes fanfiction on wattpad, then makes a ao3 account, but you can’t design fake book covers on ao3 so she archives pictures on Pinterest instead.

New knows all the tea in the friend group, the only one who knows Kevin writes fanfiction and she slightly judges changmins true crime obsession. Knows neither younghoon or Juyeon are okay and tells them to go to therapy.

Q true crime girlie and 10000 followers on Pinterest

Haknyeon wrote a CV at eleven, got herself a job on the day she turned 14, starts a blog and becomes internet famous. becomes the face for a aesthetic/ core online and starts a clothing brand. now a multimillionaire and CEO. ultimate girlboss

Sunwoo writes teen wolf fanfiction in her bedroom. laptop at the end of the bed, laying down while kicking her feet because of the scenarios she’s writing. Though she gets more followers and becomes one of the fandoms representative writers so she rent an office and buys a table you can make go up or down with a button.

Eric wants to be fit but kind of embarrassed, so she does 15 minutes workout vidoes ( search: no jumping ) at 3 am so her parents don’t walk in on her doing push ups.

[aeharbour]

🪧Masterlist

🪧Parts: one I one.5 |

🪧Genre: Fantasy, Horror, Alternate Universes

🪧Pairing(s): Hyunjae x Reader, Q x Reader

🪧Summary: Seoul is in lockdown after a horrific outbreak. Separated from her family and fiancé, a young woman joins forces with three strangers to reach her family. A desperate fight for escape unfolds as they race against time and the growing chaos to survive.

🪧Word Count: 2,450

🪧Warning : Mention of virus, mature language

net: @deoboyznet

Jaehyun rubbed his eyes, exhaustion seeping into his bones after another long shift. The military base in Yangju had been buzzing with rumours for days, but the official announcement of the virus hit them like a tidal wave. He hadn’t had a chance to check his phone since he messaged you, and the anxiety gnawed at him.

The barracks were eerily quiet, the usual chaos replaced by a tense silence. Soldiers moved with purpose, but the weight of uncertainty hung over them all. Jaehyun’s unit had been briefed earlier that morning. They were on high alert, prepared for any orders that might come their way.

He glanced at the clock on the wall—3:15 PM. Visiting hours were supposed to start soon, and he had hoped to see you. But with the lockdown, those plans were fucked.

He had no way of knowing if you were safe.

Jaehyun tried calling you again this morning. It rang, but there was no answer.

“Squad 11!” A voice called out, snapping him back to reality. It was his commanding officer, Captain Kim, a stern but fair man who had seen his share of crises. “I need you in the briefing room. Now.”

Jaehyun nodded, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He followed Captain Kim through the maze of corridors, his mind racing with thoughts of you. The briefing room was already filled with his fellow soldiers, all wearing expressions of grim determination.

“Listen up,” Captain Kim began, his voice steady and commanding. “The situation in Seoul is deteriorating rapidly. The government has issued a city-wide lockdown to contain the outbreak. Our orders are to prepare for potential deployment.”

Murmurs spread through the room.

“Intel suggests the virus spreads quickly but isn’t lethal,” Captain Kim continued. “Our primary objective will be to support medical teams. We have to be vigilant and ready for anything.”

As the briefing concluded, Jaehyun watched as Hwang Jisoo approached Captain Kim. “Sir, permission to speak?”

“Granted,” Captain Kim said, eyeing him with curiosity.

“My younger sibling is in Seoul,” Jisoo said, his voice barely steady. “I haven’t been able to reach her. I’m worried about her safety.”

Captain Kim’s expression softened slightly. “I understand, Jisoo. We all have loved ones we’re concerned about. I’ll see what I can do to get a message through, but right now, our priority is the mission. Stay focused. She’ll need you to be strong.”

Jisoo nodded, a lump forming in his throat. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Returning to his bunk, Jaehyun pulled out his phone once more, this time sending a quick message to his mother, asking her to try and contact you. He knew it was a long shot, but it was all he could do for now.

As he suited up, his thoughts kept drifting back to the last time he saw you. Your laughter, your touch, the way you scrunch your nose when you are deep in thought. He clung to those memories, using them for comfort to fall asleep.

Hours later, Jaehyun found himself standing guard at a checkpoint on the outskirts of Seoul. The city’s skyline loomed in the distance, a stark reminder of the crisis unfolding. Every now and then, he would look in the distant direction of your apartment and wonder if you’re even alive.