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hcuyk · 1 month

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OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

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

PAIRING ✧ rival!haechan x fem!reader

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

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

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

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

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

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

NCT DREAM MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

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

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

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

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

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

“Well, he is your boss.”

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

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well yeah, but the—”

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

“That’s just how-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You.”

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

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m complaining,” Jaemin muttered.

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

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

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

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

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

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get a room—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And apparently horny too.”

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

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

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

“Ew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

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

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

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

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

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

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

“You can’t be serious.”

Haechan, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was a mistake, okay?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re still with him??”

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

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

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

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

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

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

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

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

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

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

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

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

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

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Hyuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you left.

Jaemin apologized to you the morning after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet it all felt so different.

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

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

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

Then you would never have to see him in college.

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

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

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

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

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

He knew when to stop.

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

“Haechan isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

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

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you thinking about him?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew it.

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

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

“So you want me to do it?”

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

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

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

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice try.”

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“What–?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, she continued running off.

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

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

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

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

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

Of course it was Haechan.

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

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

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

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

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re taking too long.”

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

And Haechan was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

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

“I can do it myself,” you explained.

“What are you even doing?”

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

“You’re struggling.”

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

“Let me do it.”

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

“You’re kidding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Haechan, I swear—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, baby!”

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

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

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

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

“Of course I was, baby.”

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

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for one thing; your fury.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted to burn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

“I need a ride.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

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

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

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

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

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

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

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

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

“Drive.”

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

“Where to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

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

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

“About Yeonjun and Nagyung.”

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

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

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

But you asked, and as always, Haechan delivered.

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

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

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

“How does tomorrow sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to.”

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

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

“I know, Hyuck.”

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

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

You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

“I want it to hurt, Donghyuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

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

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

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

“You love me, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

He knew better.

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

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

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

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

“And I say take advantage of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

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

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

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

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

Haechan would punch Yeonjun all over again if he could.

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

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

“But it’s true, no?”

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

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

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

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

You wanted to be his downfall.

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

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

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

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

Haechan didn’t deserve that at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I do this?”

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

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

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

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

“A favor is a stretch—”

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

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

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

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

“Donghyuck, please,” you begged.

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

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

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

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Haechan took no time breaking it from your neck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Haechan showed no signs of stopping.

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

Oh, and there was the recording too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-Dongh- hyuck, I’m—”

“Mine.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — NCT DREAM

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juyeonszn · 3 months

Text

I WANNA TIE THE KNOT

PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader

WORD COUNT 1.70k

GENRES fluff ﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, established relationship, it escalates pretty fast ngl, fingering but there’s honestly no real foreplay, u tie hyunjae up with ribbon, dry humping, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap besties), cowgirl position, marking lowkey, scratching, hyunjae is a master at pillowtalk, creampie :P

SUMMARY that coquette bow trend on the internet really isn’t for the faint of heart. at least, that’s what you think when you decide to do it with hyunjae.

MORE 😂😂😂🔫 anyway. i actually wrote this in one sitting. in one night. bc i was insatiable for the coquette trend after a Very Passionate discussion with @kimsohn and @zzoguri <3 delusional sapphics 1, 2, and 3 back at it AGAIN! if u noticed, all 3 of us wrote something involving these godforsaken bows. this fic was a long time coming seeing as i wrote it a month ago but i remembered it was valentine’s day so,,,, here u go! pls dont forget to reblog if u enjoyed <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel @ericlvr @sunwooverse @kimsohn

“Can we try this?”

Hyunjae raises an eyebrow at you when you shove your phone in his face, scooting up higher from where you were laying on his lap. He watches the video with mild amusement.

“You want to tie a bow around my bicep?” He asks you, as if your request was so far-fetched and out of the ordinary. He had nice arms, he’d look cute with a ribbon wrapped around it. The whole coquette vibe matched well with his pretty face.

“Yeah, why not? It’s a cute trend. And at least I’m not suggesting the one where I tie your mouth shut,” you rest your cheek on his chest, blinking up at him with hopeful eyes. “Please, Jae? For me?”

It’s a little comical when you physically see the war waging in his head. He wants to decline, thinks the idea of you putting one of your ribbons around his fucking bicep is kind of stupid, but he could never say no to those eyes. Lee Hyunjae was a weak, weak man.

So he agrees.

Next thing he knows, you’re filming him flexing with the cute little bow on his arm to post on your social media. He should feel silly, standing still so you can record the perfect shot, but he doesn’t. You look so cute with your tongue poking out of the corner of your mouth, he feels his mind straying from the original plan.

He wraps his arms around your waist when you go to edit the video, preparing to post it publicly. You squirm as his lips make contact with the sensitive spot below your ear, kissing tenderly and sweetly. “Jaehyun….”

Your warning tone does not dispel his efforts to distract you, the tips of his fingers dipping below the waistband of your sleep shorts. The pads drag along your hip bones while his mouth travels lower on your neck, nipping at the soft skin visible beneath your top. “Yes, my love?”

“Don’t fucking ‘my love’ me right now,” you whine, craning your neck to the side to give him more access to the surface. “You know what you’re doing.”

“Is it working?” Hyunjae teases, thumb applying the slightest amount of pressure on your clothed clit. “Are you gonna let me fuck you with these pretty bows on?”

The groan you release is guttural, because god your boyfriend knew how to turn you on like a damn light switch. Your eyelids flutter shut and your head falls back on his shoulder, phone slipping out of your grasp and onto the floor. His finger moves in tight circles on the bundle of nerves, cupping the rest between the apex of your thighs. Fuck, he was starting to get the better of you.

“Y-Yes, but on— mmm— on one condition,” you force yourself to stay steeled, keeping your voice as stable as possible.

“And what is that?” Hyunjae nibbles your earlobe, teeth grazing the shell and sending goosebumps all over the expanse of your skin. His ring finger presses up on your entrance over your dampened underwear, making you clench around nothing.

Oh he was a dead man. You were going to make him pay.

“You w-wear the ribbons,” your breathing hitches. “Let me— let me tie you up. I’ll make it worth your while, Jae. P-Promise…”

He halts his motions, like he’s contemplating your words carefully. It’s not like much would change, to be honest. Hyunjae would still be the one in control after a certain point. You just wanted the excuse to bind the smug motherfucker for once. And to keep the bows on him, but around his wrists this time.

Hyunjae retracts his hands from your shorts to remove his shirt, the heat radiating against your back from his bare torso. Your chest heaves up and down as you watch him climb back to the head of the bed, sweatpants low on his hips. It takes a whole fucking lot of self restraint not to jump his bones then and there, but you manage, straddling his waist so you can tie his wrists to the bed posts with your pink satin ribbon. Your hands are shaky, like your breathing, but he doesn’t point it out, letting you have your fun.

A low grunt escapes his lips when you pull on the fabric, ensuring it’s tight enough to hold him still but loose enough not to leave a mark. It doesn’t help that he can feel you pulsating through your sleep shorts onto his abdomen, his muscles contracting underneath you.

You aren’t really sure if you can even keep up your own act, grinding down on his lap like a bitch in heat. It’s embarrassing how easy it is for him to work you up without so much as touching you. You knew if you didn’t stop now, you’d dry hump him until you were a quivering mess, fully clothed and all. Hyunjae knows you’re needy, too, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“Can we— god— can we just s-skip the foreplay?” You whine into the crook of his neck, hooking your fingers into his sweatpants. “Want you inside me already…”

“Of course, baby, you know I’ll never say no to you,” he coos, mouth finding yours to kiss you slowly, gently, passionately.

You push his pants and underwear down in one go, using your feet to kick them away so you can undress yourself as fast as possible. Your desperation is too strong to pretend it’s not there, so you give into your own carnal desires. Hyunjae hisses when your cunt hovers over his cock, so slick that it doesn’t take long for him to slip inside completely.

Every time you have sex with him, you feel so full, the weight of his cock so deep in you that you see stars well before he’s even moved. You support yourself with a hand on each of his shoulders, lips still molded with his as you begin to bounce meticulously. Your moans are muffled with his kiss, practically impaling yourself on his dick.

Your hips roll experimentally, throwing your head back with a drawn out moan and your nails clawing down his chest when he hits that particular spot inside your pussy. Hyunjae lets out a sound akin to a strangled moan, wanting nothing more than to get his hands all over your body so he can fuck you six ways to Sunday.

He bends his knees to make it a bit smoother for you, relishing in the way you’re losing yourself to your pleasure without him having to do a single thing. You’re just rutting against him at this point, legs beginning to give out this early.

“Don’t— mmm— Hyunjae, I can’t— ‘s too much,” your speech is already slurred, words blurring together and making hardly any sense.

“Let me get out of these, baby,” he tugs at the ribbons. “I’ll fuck you so good, my love. I’ll give you— fuck— what you want.”

You nod frantically, not trusting your voice to say anything remotely coherent. Thankfully, Hyunjae takes note of the lack of strength you currently have, not expecting you to untie the knots on his wrists without struggle. You watch with heavy lids and he pulls harshly, tearing the satin binding him to the bed frame. So much for them being secure…

Your top half collapses into his chest and he grasps at your waist roughly, having half the mind to flip you over and pin you to the mattress. Instead, he presses up into you, slow at first so he can regain his bearings after being tied up, and then he’s bucking up into your pussy like a jackrabbit.

“Thought you could take me—“ he cuts himself off with a groan. “Thought you could take me all by yourself like a big girl, huh?”

Whining in response is all you can do, almost on the verge of tears. The sounds of your cunt sucking him in, squelching echoing around the bedroom, are nearly enough to knock you over the edge. The coil in the pit of your stomach stretches more and more, teeth sinking into his collarbone and marking up his supple, sweaty skin like it was your day job. His blunt nails dig into the fat of your hips as a means of grounding himself, holding back from finishing before you because you were his top priority.

Your nimble fingers sneak between your bodies to massage your oh-so-sensitive clit, ring and middle digits working at double their usual speed. Hyunjae stares at you with hearts in his eyes as you try desperately to get yourself off. He thinks you’re gorgeous every second of every day, but for some reason, you look fucking breathtaking right now.

“My pretty girl, taking it like a champ,” he grits his teeth. “You love when I fuck you like a pornstar, don’t you?”

It’s when he connects your lips in a kiss so sweet it puts all the others to shame and so polar-opposite to the filth the two of you were committing, that you cum without warning, velvety walls constricting around his cock. Your head is empty and your vision goes white for a moment, static ringing in your ears. He follows immediately after, moaning into your mouth as he does so. You swallow the noises while your breathing stutters, the sensation of him filling you up with all he can give blindsiding your senses.

You stay sandwiched together as you both calm down, tired and achy from such strenuous activity. When you stop to think about the cause of these events, you snort until it morphs into an uncontrollable laughter. (Then you wince because Hyunjae’s dick was still inside of you.)

“What’s so funny?” He furrows his eyebrows, making no effort to move.

“That fucking bow trend led to one of the best orgasms of my life,” you’re still laughing, chin on your hands, which are folded over his chest. “It’s so stupid.”

“The bows are cute. Maybe you should let me try tying you up with them next time.” Hyunjae pecks your forehead, running his fingers through your hair.

“Trust me,” you giggle, a yawn threatening to push past your lips. “There will definitely be a next time.”

#deoboyznet #the boyz #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #tbz #tbz x reader #tbz smut #the boyz hyunjae #tbz hyunjae #lee hyunjae x reader #lee hyunjae smut #hyunjae x reader #hyunjae smut #juyeonszn

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sungbeam · 1 year

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 : a series!

[7 OF 11 NOW CUFFED!] ; it's cuffing season! — and the boyz are in for quite the adventure as they learn to juggle school, work, friends, and love.

starring: the boyz, f!reader

genre: college au, fluff, humor, comfort, assorted pairings

word count: 216k/?? // at least 20k+ words per part

**note: the main plotline (the 4 szns) can be read completely as stand-alones. all other spin-offs can also technically be read as stand-alones, but some might require context from the main plotline. (all prev yns will appear as __!yn)

+ ADD THIS TO YOUR LIST (taglist form: open)

a/n: i'm very excited for this series tbh and i really hope i retain the strength to finish it 🤧 a great way to help me out tho is to blow this post up by reblogging, esp since tumblr gatekeeps the actual fics when they're published :')

SEASON ONE: PARTY PEOPLE — jacob b.

yours and jacob's mutual friend kevin is convinced that you're meant to be, even if he only just met you. (trailer, 34k)

SEASON TWO: FLIGHT RISK — eric s.

you and eric met on an airplane, and that's where you thought it would end, but clearly the universe has a different plan in mind. (trailer, 30k)

SEASON THREE: OFF THE RECORD — j. changmin (parts 𝐈, 𝐈𝐈)

everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is. (trailer, 36k)

SEASON FOUR: AIN'T NO ROMEO — l. hyunjae

your best friend hyunjae ain't no romeo, but you're still in love... so let's hope he doesn't find out you wrote a whole play about him! (trailer, 30k)

— spin-offs & side adventures.

RHAPSODY ANONYMOUS — k. sunwoo

you never thought your humble, little podcast would ever touch somebody's soul like it did one kim sunwoo's. (trailer, 28k)

RESCUE PROTOCOL — kevin m.

another summer break, another annual trip to the lake! except, it seems like when you and kev get there, you'll have to make some tweaks to the original rescue protocol. (trailer, 29k)

AT YOUR CONVENIENCE — k. younghoon

neither you nor younghoon were party people, but you did find love in the convenience store down the block. (trailer, 29k)

HOT COMMODITY — j. haknyeon

no matter how many times he's been to this restaurant, haknyeon swears he's not just here for the cute waitress. (trailer, __)

PINKY SWEAR — c. chanhee

you and chanhee are far from the years of pinky swears, but here you are, still lacing fingers after all this time. (trailer, __)

THE REVEAL — l. sangyeon

does sangyeon really have a secret girlfriend? well... let's find out. (trailer, __)

CLASS(Y) ACTION — l. juyeon

nothing is more cutthroat than the legal sphere, and sometimes we have to find allies in the strangest places—even if he spills coffee on you. (trailer, __)

EXTRA/"DELETED" SCENES

section under construction.

EXTRA, EXTRA CONTENT

— QUIZZES!

lmk what u got for a free smooch and a cookie 🤸‍♀️🥰

which love in unity boy will you be cuffing this year? (uquiz)

which love in unity boy will you be cuffing this school year? (**NEW & IMPROVED VER)

love in unity trivia !! for the main plot only (uquiz)

— ALT. READING ORDERS

if u want to read this series in timeline order, this is how it should be done: jacob/younghoon, eric/haknyeon, changmin/sunwoo, hyunjae/chanhee, sangyeon, kevin, juyeon

if u wanna read sungbeam's favorites: [under construction]

— SERIES TAGS: general series. any wip can be searched via "wip: _____" (usually just the initials, except for party people); or "the (member) fic™"

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sohnric · 7 months

Text

paris – l. juyeon

pairing: lee juyeon x fem! reader

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

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

word count: 6k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes, having materialistic friends is a plus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

31/10/2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A bit.”

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

He was going to. Not anymore, he guesses.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh?

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s his costume?” Juyeon asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You? Absolutely.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N…”

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

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

He does know.

“Sorry, I’m rambling–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” you hum.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Always knew you were a gentleman.”

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

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

“I have two,” he laughs.

“Is that possible?” you tease.

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

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

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

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

No you.

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

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

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

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

And now, you won’t ever again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I might,” you breathe out.

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

He could take it as an invitation.

He won’t, though.

“Kiss me?” you ask, whispering.

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

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

“Can I kiss you, then?” you ask.

That, however, is a whole other situation.

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

A simple nod–

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No regret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goodbye, Juyo.”

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

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

#deoboyznet #the boyz #juyeon #lee juyeon #tbz #the boyz x reader #the boyz angst #the boyz fluff #juyeon x reader #juyeon fluff #juyeon angst #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon angst #lee juyeon fluff #tbz x reader #tbz fluff #tbz angst #juyeon scenario #juyeon fic

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mauveflowers · 7 months

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I have read Geunseo's author commentary and other translator's translation notes so I know for a fact that the way Yoojin and Sung Hyunjae interact is more akin to a perfunctory customer service dialogue and that can't be translated over to english as seamlessly BUT

Being an english reader it is actually hilarious trying not to read into their interactions. They just go off the rails all the time and say and DO things that are questionable at best. And I know there's supposed to be a level of distance in their social hierarchy (respecting people older and in better standing that yourself?) but WHY does SHJ act like that.

#Geunseo you doomed your readers to be lead astray.#sctir #tsctir #s classes that i raised #han yoojin #HYJ #sung hyunjae #SHJ #it's supposed to be like yoojin: disrespectful tone but using polite words #sung hyunjae: talking and acting like an older man #but then you get shit like SHJ: if you want to sleep in my bed you can?#HYJ: *read 10:55 P.M.

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taxominn · 1 month

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Spoilers up to chap 303 of tsctir

When you're on your Enneagram bs & realize that Sung Hyunjae is self-pres/sexual 7 & Han Yoojin is self-pres/sexual 2.

...the fact that they both prioritize self-pres instinct while wielding the sexual instinct second would explain some of the odd chemistry in their semi-transactional relationship. They both are, or at least were, using their growing connection with the other as a tool to satisfy their own needs, and both of them see this as reasonable and fair because they know the other is doing the same thing.

Hyunjae only rejects the chemistry between them when his dominant instinct is threatened... needing to risk his arm to help everyone get out of the Japanese dungeon bcuz of whatever funky stuff Yoojin's got going on. He literally says to Song Taewon, after running away from Yoojin, in ch.296:

“No matter how much I like him, I come first. He’s mine to the end, and while he’s something I treasure, the one I value is myself.”

No wonder dude spirals out of control until he's literally contemplating wiping Yoojin off the face of the planet. he's a pleasure-seeking sp7 that ensures the satisfaction of his needs by building interpersonal alliances, & the passionate, dreamy energy of his sx7 instinct serves that end. if the focus of his current passion is abt to risk his survival, if he's gonna have to start making actual sacrifices, then it makes sense that he'd think abt cutting his losses. but... he doesn't want to kill him. cuz he liiiikes him. so he just ghosts him lol

& Yoojin's reaction to it is so freaking funny dude. he's like a crazy ex Hyunjae broke up with over text. & that makes sense, too, bcuz he's beginning to actually care about Sung Hyunjae in a non-transactional way, so Hyunjae just up and ghosting has to absolutely trigger the 2's fear of being unloved and abandoned, like it did when he thought Yoohyun abandoned him pre-regression. and because 2's are hiding insecurity and entitlement for love & attention behind a veneer of altruism, which wells into anger & resentment if they don't get the love that they're due, Yoojin literally threatens to blow up his house if he doesn't respond to him. and does, like, a 24 hour death countdown before barging into Sung Hyunjae's house when he STILL hadn't responded to his texts lololol

#enneagram #typology #personality types #sctir #the s classes that i raised #sung hyunjae #han yoojin #jinjae #type 7 #type 2 #sctir spoilers

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yizmiu · 1 month

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SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

010. champion | smau + written (928 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

Heeseung felt the buzz of his phone from his back pocket of his washed out jeans. Reaching for it as he took a sip of the beer from his red solo cup, swallowing the alcohol as he opened his messages. “Y/n’s here, I’m gonna go get her.” He told his friends, earning a couple nods.

It took him a little while to get to the door, he did have to go through a swarm of bodies…

Heeseung opened the huge set of doors, seeing a couple of people hanging outdoors. Heeseung waved as he saw the two walking up the set of stairs. “Hi,” Heeseung smiled, his eyes glancing at any part of her face in an attempt to not start blushing.

“Have they started beer pong yet? Beom said he wanted to partner with me at the last party.” Soobin asked, cutting the tension between the other two. “They’re about to start, Beom said he was waiting for you.” Heeseung informed him. “Thanks.” Soobin said before walking into the big estate, leaving Heeseung and Y/n alone.

“I’m surprised you agreed to come.” He said. “Me too, I guess I’m becoming more comfortable around these types of situations.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders and chuckled.

“Let’s go watch them play beer pong.” Heeseung said, guiding the girl into the estate, eventually grabbing onto the girl's hand, not wanting her to get lost between the crowd of bodies.

Finally the two get a good view of the current beer pong game going on. It was Beomgyu and Soobin against Sungchan and Eunseok.

“Have you ever played before?” Heeseung asks. “Uhm, does cup pong on iMessages count?” Y/n kisses her teeth. “You’re funny.” Heeseung laughs. “Want to be my partner?” He pops the question.

“Are you good? Because I don’t want to be drunk tonight.” Y/n chuckles. “I’m literally like a champion, don’t worry.” He scoffed.

“Y/n and I got next!” Heeseung said, as the game was coming to an end and a couple people were resetting the cups. “Awh, now I’m gonna feel bad about winning.” Hyunjae sighed as he and Sunwoo approached the other side of the table. “Haha, me and Y/n are gonna cook you guys.” Heeseung said, making Y/n laugh.

Heeseung threw the first ball, making it into the center cup. The two were off to a great start, Y/n wasn’t actually so bad at the game. She missed a couple throws at times but it was okay because Heeseung would end up getting the ball into the cup either way.

Heeseung insisted on drinking the alcohol whenever it was her turn, she felt bad knowing that the boy was starting to get really tipsy.

Sunwoo made the ball into one of their cups. Heeseung’s hand went to grasp the red cup but Y/n grabbed it faster than him. She chugged it, trying to hide her facial expressions as she set the cup down. For the next couple of turns she drank the alcohol, getting a little tipsy herself.

“Last throw, are you guys ready to lose?” Hyunjae teased before throwing the ball, landing right into their last standing cup. The two boys' cheers were loud and so were the thousand of others around them. Heeseung and Y/n decided to split the last cup. Heeseung was already drunk by now and Y/n was just tipsy.

“Good game.” Heeseung bro hugged the two. “You’re not bad Y/n, was this your first time playing? Sunwoo asked. “Yeah.” She nodded her head. “It’s okay, you just went against the Kappa Chi legends, it’s an honor.” Sunwoo nods his head as he praises himself. “You’re corny, Sunwoo.” Y/n laughs at the boy.

Heeseung left the girl for a second, heading to the kitchen to grab the two bottles of water. He came back stumbling a little, “Heeseung! Already trying to sober up?” Yeonjun patted the boys back. “Soobin is drunk as shit, and Y/n is tipsy. How else is she gonna get home?” Heeseung said, Y/n’s heart started beating faster, blushing at the sign of consideration from Heeseung.

“Heeseung, I’m fine. I know you like to drink, I don't want to stop your fun, I can just get an uber.” Y/n told the boy. “No—No, you can’t trust ubers these days. I’ll sober up and drive you home.”

“Just—I need to take a quick nap before I do—can you bring me to Beomgyu’s room?” Heeseung asks the girl. “Yeah, of course.” Y/n holds onto the boy, guiding the boy to the room. Getting lost at first and taking the wrong turn upstairs.

“Sorry—I would bring myself but I can’t.” Heeseung apologizes as he is still holding onto the girl for support. “Don’t be, I understand.” Y/n finally finds Beomgyu’s room. She lays the boy onto the bed.

“Are you gonna go back downstairs and find Soobin?” Heeseung asks, his words slurring. “Most likely not, he’s probably making out with a stranger.” She chuckles. “Then can you lay with me?” Heeseung asks with no hesitation, the alcohol speaking for him. He pats the empty space next to him.

Y/n takes a while to finally answer. “Okay.” She moves her body to the other side of the bed, laying kind of awkwardly on top of the blanket. Heeseung rolls his body, now facing Y/n. His hand landed on top of hers.

Y/n’s face turns to the boy, watching him as he peacefully falls asleep, and soon later she would as well.

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#enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smau #enhypen x reader #enhypen #heeseung x reader #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heeseung smau #heeseung x you #heeseung enhypen #lee heesung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung imagines #heeseung

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cupidjyu · 10 months

Text

detention for romance

hyunjae x reader

summary (because this is strangely long): as the president of the student council, you're faced with expectations. what you don't expect is to be put in detention with the student that you've heard endless negative rumors about... but he's not as bad as you had thought

genre: school au, unrealistic high school romance (yawns), flirty hyunjae, gosh he is such a waist grabber, he punched someone, but its all okay!!! he has a little sister, close proximity in a library lol, soft moments, falling asleep on his shoulder, oblivious reader, constant constant bickering, getting together, kissing, high schoolers who unrealistically make out (yawns again), slight neck kissing, cursing, younghoon sunwoo cameos notes: im not even going to talk about it word count: 10.5k (woops)

Whenever the name Lee Hyunjae was spoken in a noisy classroom, bustling hallway, or bathroom with a leaking sink, it would always be accompanied by a wince. People would contort their faces in worry whenever someone even mentioned his name or they would take the long way to get to the history classroom if it meant they wouldn’t have to come face-to-face with him.

Lee Hyunjae. The student in class 1-B was closed off and considered the scariest one ever. Some never dared to speak his name, behaving like he was that one villain with no nose from those Harry Potter movies. He never talked to anyone and if an unknowing new student ever tried to, he would stare at them silently. Some people say that he glares. Some say that he rolls his eyes.

“I heard that he’s in a gang and murders children for money,” Your classmate once said. Class 1-A loved to talk about him, hence why you strangely knew so much. You looked up from your sketchbook.

“Children? Of all types of people?” You squinted.

“Doesn’t he seem like the type to hate children?” She replied. “C’mon, you’re the president of the student council.”

You frowned. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’re supposed to be smart.”

You shut your mouth at that. Maybe, you were book-smart. Street smart? You could never decipher why people hated Hyunjae so much. But then again, you never saw him before. Maybe he was just quiet. Or maybe he really was in a gang and murdered children for money. All you knew was that he was not part of your business so you couldn’t care less.

Besides, you had a student council meeting to host after this.

—

“What do you mean you lost the one thing that we needed?” You whined, staring straight at Sunwoo. “This event is the last one of the year and you—“ You sighed, pinching the area between your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry,” He cried. “It’s not my fault someone crashed my car on the way here and they fell out.”

You pouted. “Are you okay at least?”

He grinned, motioning to himself. “All in one piece.”

The one thing was actually the flower garlands for the spring party that you were tasked to plan. They were supposed to hang from the ceiling, along with string lights to resemble a pretty forest. Being the president of the student council was quite tiring. In fact, you never even intended to become one. You just happened to have decent grades.

The spring party was in just a few hours and if there were no flower garlands, then the highly anticipated party would be empty and disappointing. You couldn’t quite afford the embarrassment, especially from how many tickets you had sold.

“What do we do?” You sighed. “You can just start decorating with what we have then.”

A few of the students nodded. As they left, another member, Younghoon, approached you with a small smile. He was tall and often looked innocent like he had done no wrong. But really, he was anything but that. He loved to joke around and break the rules. You wondered how he even got into the council with such a record.

“You know,” He started, leaning against one of the rickety desks. He wobbled slightly against it, ruining the “cool” facade he decided to put on. “The main office has some of those garland things. Last year, they had a flower sale so they used those as decorations. I saw them in the closet when I was caught cheating on a test.”

You stared at him with a bored expression. “You got caught cheating on a test?”

He groaned. “Yes, and I failed the class. But that’s beside the point! You should go to the office and get the flower garlands. You’ll be just in time.”

You really contemplated it for a second. “Can I really? What do I say?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “The principal doesn’t let any student borrow supplies for parties and such.”

You frowned. “You’re of no help then.”

Younghoon gave you a confused smile. “What do you mean? Just… kindly borrow them. Just for one day.”

You gaped at them. “You mean to steal them?”

He nodded as if that was the simplest thing ever. “Just sneak in and grab them. What could go wrong?”

“I am no thief,” You grumbled.

“Then I guess your party will suck then.”

You gasped. “You take that back.”

“Never.” He stuck his tongue out and then he turned towards the door. “Just think about it, won’t you? Code to the closet is 1026 by the way.” He winked as he turned down the hallway with a small wave.

You were left in the empty classroom speechless. There was no way you would steal from the school. That would result in serious consequences and you couldn’t ruin your reputation. With an abrupt shake of your head, you headed out.

And then you stopped. To the right, was the gymnasium where the party was being set up. To the left, was the main office with the flower garlands. You bit your lip, whipping your head from either side.

You ultimately turned left.

“What am I doing, what am I doing?”

–

Why did every single door of the school have to creak? Holding your breath, you peeked inside. Your eyes surveyed the room. It seemed that everyone else had left except for two people, talking in the very corner. This was the perfect chance, as you could see the closet, just on your right.

As quietly as you could, you stepped inside, hurrying over the old-looking closet that looked like it could collapse at any moment.

Just get the flowers and get out.

Your hands were practically shaking as you turned the lock.

1…0…

“Punching a student is not tolerated in this school.”

You inhaled sharply at the familiar voice of the principal, but you turned back to the lock, determined to go unnoticed.

2…

“Miss, I had my reasons.” Another voice, younger, almost like he was in your grade. He sounded tired and annoyed.

“That boy ended up with a broken nose. What possible reason could there be for that?” The principal was stern.

You paused for a second. But still, there was one more number left.

…6

With a proud smile, you silently unlocked the closet. And there it was, like an oasis in a dry desert, the flower garlands. They were prettier than the ones you had previously. Your smile grew. Oh, the party was going to be beautiful.

You were just about to grab the flowers and escape when the younger student spoke up again. “My little sis–”

“What are you doing over there?”

Clenching your jaw, you froze. Then you whipped around, only to face the principal who was staring back at you with an angry expression. Behind her, was a tall man. He must be a student as he was dressed in the typical uniform. His tie was loose and his shirt was untucked, which usually resulted in being dress coded. He didn’t seem to care though as he tilted his head at you with a nonchalant expression, one hand in his pocket.

You smiled nervously. “I was borrowing something.”

“You aren’t permitted to take anything from there. How did you even get the code?” The principal spoke sternly. “You should be setting a better example. As president of all people.”

You frowned. “But, I needed it for the par–”

“You don’t need it.” She interrupted you. “What you do need is detention. Both of you.”

“What?” You exclaimed. “I swear that I–” But it was of no use, as she was already writing your name up, as well as the other student’s. You peered at his chest only to find that there was no name tag. You sighed. This was not how you expected things to go.

“Detention.” She handed both of you the paper. “In which you both will be sweeping the art room, organizing the library, and cleaning classroom 1-B.”

“Miss,” The man complained, stepping forward. You widened your eyes when you realized just how tall he actually was. “All they did was try to steal stuff. How is that–”

The principal only raised her eyebrow at the word “steal.”

You nudged his shoulder harshly. “You’re not helping,” You whispered frantically.

He gave you a small smirk. “Well you’re not very good at stealing now are you?”

You flushed at that. “I was just trying to–”

“No more objections,” The principal stated. “Attend the party… or whatever. But you will report to detention tomorrow afternoon.”

You sighed and walked away. The man, whom you’ve now nicknamed “dickhead,” quickly caught up to you. You glanced at him with narrowed eyes, refusing to say anything. Close up, you realized that he wasn’t bad looking. He had a tall nose bridge and deer-like eyes that would be considered kind-looking if it wasn’t for the constant teasing look on his face.

“Stealing from Miss principal,” He spoke up, his voice laced with amusement. “I admire your bravery.”

You rolled your eyes, walking faster. He continued to trail behind you. With annoyance, you whipped around, already agitated from the past events.

“Why are you following me?” You frowned.

He smiled. “Don’t you need a date for this party? I’m trying to ask you out.”

You widened your eyes, your throat closing up suddenly. “Wh–what?”

He stared at you for a good minute. And then he motioned to the side with a laugh. “Just kidding, my locker’s right here.”

You groaned and turned around. Your hands clenched into fists as you stormed down the hallway.

“Dickhead.”

Little did you know, that he was watching you rush down the hallway with curious eyes.

–

Cursing at the couple who decided to make out right in front of your locker, you rushed down the stairs, your hands fumbling to fix your hair. Turning the corner, you were met with the entrance of the art room.

To say the least, your friends and fellow classmates were in much shock when they found out that you of all people had gotten detention. Again, you couldn’t care less. You just needed to get this over with.

Perhaps this could be a great learning experience! You smiled painfully.

I hate this.

Peeking through the window of the door, you could see that same man, sitting at one of the tables. Again, his uniform was awfully undone. The tie was loose like before and this time, the top two buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. You sighed, looking down at your uniform. Neat and ironed, because you were always expected to set an example.

Slowly, you opened the door. He looked up and his lips immediately lifted up into a coy smile.

“You’re late.”

“There were some… issues.” You shivered at the thought. Out of all places, they were kissing in front of your locker?

He laughed at your expression and he stood up from the table. And then he squinted at your name tag.

“Your name is?”

“You can’t read?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Bad eyesight.” He grinned.

“Y/n,” You sighed.

He nodded. “I already knew that.”

“What?” You stared at him with confusion.

“President of student council,” He stated. “I hear about you a lot.”

“Then why’d you ask…” You muttered to yourself.

“Formality reasons.” He shrugged. “Like you would for me. You probably hear about me a lot too.”

You frowned as you reached over to pick up the brooms, handing one to him. He stared at it blankly, and so you sighed with frustration and thrust it into his chest.

“I don’t know you though,” You replied.

He raised an eyebrow. And then he stepped closer, looking down at you with a disbelieving look. You gulped, taking a step backward.

“You’re funny,” He whispered.

“I’m not trying to be.”

“You really don’t know?” He widened his eyes. “Lee Hyunjae?”

And that was when the world suddenly came crashing down on you. It all came together like pieces of a puzzle. The constantly messy uniform, the smirk on his lips, the whole reason that he was in detention in the first place? Punching a student.

You gasped, taking an even wider step backward. His eyes almost dimmed at your action along with his smile faltering with… something like hurt.

“You’re Hyunjae?” You mumbled.

He nodded. “And now you’re going to run away like everyone else does.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’m just wondering…” You spoke with astonishment. “You’re not even that scary.”

He gaped at your words, his broom almost slipping out of his hands. “Scary?”

You snorted. “You have no idea what my class says about you.” You turned away for a second, beginning to sweep up all the colored pencil shavings and cut-up paper.

“Amuse me.” He appeared by your side with a small smile. You watched as he began to help you clean up the floor. You shouldn’t be so surprised but with what so many people say about him, you couldn’t help but be a little bit shocked that he was doing a basic household task.

“Are you in a gang?” You looked up at him with a stifled laugh.

“Yes,” He spoke. You eyed him suspiciously. “No,” He finally sighed. “That would be cool though.”

“Do you murder children for money?”

He winced and looked at you. “Do you believe these things?”

You shrugged. “Just curious.”

Hyunjae groaned, batting your broom with his, causing you to glare at him. “I’m a perfectly normal student.”

“Okay…” You muttered. “Then why’re you in detention for punching one?”

He grew silent at that. When you looked up at him, you could see that his jaw had clenched. He didn’t answer the question either, as he abruptly walked away to clean up somewhere. You stared after him, trying to decipher his strange reaction.

After a few more lazy broom sweeps across the floor, you turned to him, only to see that Hyunjae had stopped. He seemed to be staring at an open sketchbook on one of the tables. Quietly, you walked behind him. That was when you realized… that was your sketchbook.

Other than managing school things, you secretly enjoyed drawing in one. It was when you could escape from all your responsibilities, instead choosing to focus on doodling and perfecting a pretty picture. And you must have left it here the other day when it had mysteriously gone missing.

With a squeak, you lunged forward and shut it closed.

He jumped and stared at you in shock. That was when you came to the realization that he was sort of… cute when surprised with the way his eyes were round and his lips parted.

“Those drawings were not mine,” You rambled.

He stared at you, unimpressed. “Thanks for confirming that they’re yours.”

You sighed with defeat. “You weren’t supposed to see them. It’s private.”

His eyes searched yours. “I didn’t turn a single page. It was just open. Besides…” He trailed off. “That one drawing was very good.”

You gulped, suddenly feeling your cheeks grow warm. “Oh,” You stuttered. “Thank you.”

He gave you a small smile. Suddenly, all of those rumors that you’d heard of him had completely dissipated from your mind. You straightened up, studying him with perplexion. He wasn’t half bad. Just… a little quiet.

He pulled out one of the stools and sat down, inviting you to do the same. Cautiously, you did so, facing him with sudden nervousness.

“Can you show me another?” He asked, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity. “If you’re comfortable.”

You faltered over a breath. You watched him for a second, wondering if he was going to maybe burst out into laughter and claim that he was just joking. But instead, he only stared back expectantly.

“Okay,” You whispered. With shaky hands, you searched through your sketchbook, choosing one of your favorites. Hesitantly, you turned it around. He studied it quietly. And then he looked back up at you with a soft smile.

“Aren’t you talented?” He murmured.

You were sure that your cheeks were completely red now. Shutting the book with a loud bang, you looked down at your lap. “Shut up.”

“I’m being serious,” He chuckled. “My little sister likes to draw too, you know.”

You looked up at him in surprise.

“Little sister?”

He nodded, a sudden fond expression taking over his usual bored one. “She’s adorable. And she somehow looks up to me. I advise her not to.”

You gave him a soft smile. “She must look up to you for a reason.”

He snorted. “I try to set an example. But I’m afraid she’ll become closed off like me. She’s very bright.”

You could practically feel your heart bloom. The way that he spoke of her with such a gentle voice put a funny feeling in your stomach.

“You must love her.”

“I do,” He said with an affectionate tone. “That’s why I’m here in the first place.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at that, toying with the broken spine of the sketchbook. He quickly noticed your confusion and he sighed.

“She wanted these drawing supplies. You know, the ones with unicorns and colorful rainbows on them. So naturally, as a great older brother, I bought them.”

You laughed at that. He gave you a small smile back.

“But I was also late to school so…” His ears turned red. “I had to bring them here.”

“And?” You watched him curiously.

“The other guys in my class noticed.” He frowned. “They threatened to steal them and when they found out that it was for my little sister, they even said some mean things about her. They haven’t even seen her before.”

“Oh,” You breathed out, guiltily. “Is that why you punched one of them?”

He nodded with a sigh. “It’s okay. She was happy to receive them.” He grinned fondly. “She even gave me a hug.”

“So you’re the protective type,” You wondered. You looked at him with kind eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

He shrugged. “As long as she’s happy.”

You gave him a slight smile as you stood up from the stool. Motioning to the door that led directly to the school courtyard, you turned to him. “Would you like to take a walk? We're done here anyway.” Unfortunately, you couldn’t leave right after finishing cleaning since the principal had set a certain mandatory time for both of you to stay here. Quite stupid in fact.

But, you adored the school courtyard. Especially when it was bright and sunny, all the flowers along the trail brought a certain peace to your usually stressed mind.

Hyunjae looked at you with slight surprise. “Me?”

“Who else?” You frowned.

He shrugged. “Don’t know. No one usually asks me these types of things. You’re a nice change of pace.”

Your eyes softened at that. Well, up until he—

“Getting clingy for me already?”

You gawked at him. “No? Oh my god, I was being a perfectly nice friend, and you…“

Hyunjae raises his hands up like he was being arrested as he heads for the door, gesturing that you go first. He laughed, “Sorry, sorry. And are we really friends now?”

“If you would like?” You looked at him unsurely.

“Great.” He gave you a kind smile.

As you walked, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“So you’re just a quiet person?” You spoke up.

He turned to you. “I guess so. I promise I don't usually punch people.” He winced at the thought.

You snorted. “I get it. You were just being a good older brother.”

He hummed as he kicked at a pebble, watching it roll away.

“How was the party?” He asked quietly. “And don’t tell me you actually needed a date because I would have gladly—“

“Oh we don’t have to talk about it,” You whined. “It was a mess. Everyone was disappointed and I felt like such a failure.”

He smirked. “I mean it wasn’t all a failure.”

You looked at him. And now that you were getting a proper look, you found that he was much better than decent-looking. He was handsome. You’ve witnessed the kind side of him already and so the teasing smile on his lips began to become almost… charming.

“How’s that?” You narrowed your eyes. “You weren’t even there.”

“But I saw you. On the way home.” You could’ve sworn he did a once-over as if he was imagining you in your party attire again. “You looked beautiful.”

Your retort was caught in your throat as quickly as a spark of fire. Almost tripping on a crack in the ground, you cleared it and turned away.

“Thank you.” You squeezed your eyes shut, knowing that he was still watching you intently. “Still think it was a failure.”

When there was no response, you looked back up only to meet Hyunjae’s amused expression. He was smiling at you softly and his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischievousness.

“What is it?” You spoke cautiously.

“Nothing.” He tilted his head slightly, his eyes wandering to one of your ears. “Your ears turned red.”

Stuttering, you shoved him harshly in the chest. “Shut up. And your uniform! It’s all messed up.”

He grinned wider, leaning close so that he could whisper right into your ear where supposedly, they were red from embarrassment.

“It’s a stylistic choice.”

Inhaling sharply, you pulled away, his low voice leaving shivers down your spine. “W-well it’s a horrible one. So face me.”

He easily complied, shockingly. Your fingers hesitated at his chest, multiple red alarms going off in your head asking what the hell are you doing? Ignoring them, you began to button up his white dress shirt. Accidentally, your fingers brushed against his bare skin in which you could see that he gulped. You smiled slightly, glad to know that you also had an effect on him.

Then, your hands came down to his loose tie, pulling it right up to his collar. You desperately tried to ignore his watchful eyes, looking down at you.

“Done,” You breathed out as you tried to avoid his knowing eyes. “And tuck your shirt in yourself.”

“So you’re not going to shove your hands down my pants today? Disappointing.”

“You dirty-minded moron.” Checking your watch, you realized that you could have left long ago.

But he stopped you, his hand catching your wrist.

“Your hair.” He approached you this time, his large hand smoothing down a lock of hair. Just as you thought he was done, he tucked one piece behind your ear, his touch gentle and almost caring. “There.” He smiled. “I returned the favor.”

A quiet “thank you” was all you could muster. Your heart was beating abnormally fast. It didn’t help that he decided to tuck another piece of hair behind your other ear, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek.

“I didn’t know I looked like a mess,” You muttered.

“Still pretty to me.” He smiled.

And so with a wave, you said goodbye to Lee Hyunjae who wasn’t so scary after all. With a quirk of his lip, he waved back.

—

“Look who’s late this time?” You lifted an eyebrow as you leaned against one of the many bookshelves. Contrary to popular belief—by that you mean, your classmates who still think that you’re some literature god who can decipher every single piece of Shakespeare just by skimming through the plays—you didn’t often come to the library.

It was rickety and had odd lighting, making everything seem orange and dark. In front of you were two carts, filled with books that needed to be returned to their rightful home. What a boring detention task. How’s this supposed to teach you to do the right thing?

Hyunjae approached you with an obviously faked guilty look. “Sorry about that.” His voice was oddly croaky. As if he had just woken up. “I fell asleep. Physics is really boring.”

So he really did just wake up.

You gazed at him wordlessly. And then you walked forward, pushing one of the carts straight into his stomach. With how tired he was, he couldn’t quite register the feeling yet.

And then he groaned in pain.

“Y/n.” He scowled.

You smiled cheekily. “Let’s get this over with.”

“After you,” He sighed, motioning to the first section labeled Historical Nonfiction.

As you two wandered the various bookshelves, placing the books back, the two of you had a few casual conversations. Sometimes, Hyunjae would make you laugh. And sometimes, you would just feel the need to fix his tie and collar all over again.

“Your uniform,” You grumbled. “It bothers me.”

He smirked. “Want to button it up for me again?”

You swallowed thickly. “No. Do it yourself.”

“But I like when you do it for me,” He replied, unabashed.

“Be quiet,” You snapped, slapping his hand with a book in which he winced.

It grew quiet after that. Still, the silence was never one that was awkward or made either of you uncomfortable. It was just… simple. The shuffling of your clothes and the thump of books being placed on the shelves. But there was one question that continued to linger in your mind.

“Hey, I have something to ask.” You turned to him.

“Hm?”

“Who were the guys who made fun of you? And the one that you punched?” You asked.

He paused, looking at you indecisively. “And what are you going to do with them if I tell you?”

“Nothing,” You replied. “Just curious.”

He eyed you suspiciously but he ultimately exhaled deeply. “There were only two. One being the guy who ran against you for student council…”

Your mouth dropped open at that. Oh, how you hated that guy. He was obnoxious, had an incredibly loud and squeaky voice, and he absolutely loved bothering you. He once even tried to sabotage one of your events.

“And the other was the captain of the football team. The one I punched.”

Now you were gaping at Hyunjae like he was crazy.

“You punched him?”

“Yeah, and?” He widened his eyes cutely.

“But he’s seems so… strong,” You wondered. You had seen the way he plowed through other players in games.

He gave you a slightly crooked smile. “But look who’s broader?”

You grew quiet at that. And you must be insane because your eyes quite literally scanned over Hyunjae. Were his shoulders always this wide? And the way that his sleeves were rolled up slightly to reveal his arms were so–

“Focused?” He teased, leaning closer.

“Mhm,” You breathed out. “They’re assholes.”

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “Well, what can I do? At least I get to spend more time with you.”

You rolled your eyes, reaching back into the cart. Reading the number on it, you internally groaned when you realized that it was meant to be on the very first shelf. The one at the very top. Biting your lip slightly, you reached up. To no avail, you couldn’t quite extend far enough.

That was when you felt a chest being pressed up to your back. Hyunjae’s chest. He took the book from your hand, his skin brushing with yours as he placed the book for you. Gulping thickly, you looked up, only to meet his soft eyes. He lingered there for a moment, leaving you to realize that he smelled good. Very odd observation to make.

When he finally pulled away, you stared at him with utter shock.

“Shy, dear president?” He whispered. “Your ears are red again.”

“I’m–” You jerked a thumb behind you, desperately trying to escape. “I’m going to go. Th-thank you.”

“Anytime.” He gave you an annoyingly flirty wink as he pushed his own cart. The two of you went your separate ways.

You hummed to yourself as you worked on your own section. But you slowly stopped when you realized just how lonely it was without Hyunjae around to tease you or talk about random topics. Still, you prevailed. After what happened, you weren’t sure if you could face him again.

With a tired sigh, you pushed the cart, rounding the next corner. That was when you saw two boys. One had an annoyingly high-pitched voice, almost like a stupid mouse. You recognized him. The other walked with his chest funnily puffed out. You also recognized him. The football captain. So Hyunjae really is broader, you wondered to yourself.

But then you froze. Hyunjae is right here, in this room. And if they saw him–

Leaving your cart behind, you whipped around, weaving through the many bookshelves. With rapid breaths, you searched for him, only for you to ultimately run straight into his firm back.

He jumped, turning around.

“Y/n?”

You didn’t reply. Without a second thought, you grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him along. You dragged him into another section. Then, you pushed him against the bookshelf, pressing your body close up to him. Again, you were surrounded by his scent which still smelled incredibly good, much to your demise.

He stayed silent, studying you with a tilt of his lips. You stared back up at him. You should be explaining but instead, you seemed to be in a trance over how warm his body was and how his lips were very–

“What’s this?” He finally purred, his voice low.

“Shush,” You whispered. When you realized that he was staring down at your lips, you shut your eyes and pressed your forehead against his chest shyly. “I saw them. I’m trying to hide you.”

“Oh,” He breathed in slight surprise. Then he huffed out with amusement. “I don’t think this is really working,” He teased. “They could still see me. Plus, it seems like it’s you who’s hiding. In my chest specifically.”

Clearing your throat, you lifted your head and looked up at him with embarrassment.

“But that’s kind of you.” He grinned.

“Shh.” You pressed a finger to his lips. He only smiled wider. The two of you stayed in that position for a few more minutes that almost began to feel like hours. His hands were straight at his sides as if he were afraid to touch you. You were still pressed up against him, your hand resting on the bookshelf and the other toying nervously with the hem of your clothes.

Once you were sure that there were no more voices, you pulled away, brushing yourself off. You were about to make a joke to clear the tension that had suddenly built up when you heard a man talk. Specifically, the football captain. The one that Hyunjae had punched.

“Hold on,” He called out to the other boy. “I need a book for my Greek mythology project.”

You glanced at the nearby sign that clearly, ironically, and very unfortunately read Greek Mythology. You turned back to him with panic.

“Hyunjae–”

He stared at you silently. You gasped when you felt a hand snake around your waist.

“Do you trust me?” He asked.

“What?” You replied with alarm. “You’re asking me that now?”

“Do you?” Hyunjae repeated, furrowing his eyebrows.

You gulped. “Yes.”

And in just a second, he had flipped you around so that the ridges of the bookshelf jutted into your back this time. His hand tightened around your waist and his other hand wandered to your upper back.

“Wha–”

“Close your eyes.”

Your mind was already rushing with a million thoughts. But you still followed his order, shakily shutting your eyes closed. That was when you were only left with your sense of hearing, smell, and touch. You could hear him, feel him shuffle closer. You could hear his breath against your ear. Why was he so close? And then you felt his lips–his very warm lips–brush against your neck.

Inhaling sharply, your whole body went rigid.

He didn’t do anything else, you soon realized. He simply lingered on your neck, breathing slowly as his hands continued to pull you closer. Hyunjae had you trapped in his arms, his lips just centimeters away from the spot under your jawline. Yet he never made contact. Except for that accidental brush that sent goosebumps down your whole body.

That was when you heard the guy’s voice again and his footsteps approaching.

“It’s here– what the hell? Nevermind. And get a room.”

And then the footsteps receded.

After what felt like forever, Hyunjae stepped away. He seemed to be experiencing the same effect with the way he was breathing heavily and his cheeks were tinted red. But this was his doing after all.

You opened your mouth and closed it repeatedly, trying to find the words to say. And then you shoved him by the chest.

“What was that for?” You exclaimed. Your hand came up to that same spot on your neck, which felt warm from his breathing. You felt a flush from head to toe. “You almost– kissed me.”

“That was the point,” He replied. “To make it look like we were making out and having the time of our lives.” His eyes continued to linger on your lips and that specific area on your neck. “What perfume do you use? It smells amazing. Pretty like you.”

You froze. And then you groaned with frustration.

“I didn’t– wear perfume today,” You muttered. “And was that the best you could do? We couldn’t– run away? You had to…” You trailed off, the sensation coming back to you all over again. “Do that thing?”

“What thing?” He smirked. “Almost kiss your neck?”

“Yes,” You mumbled. “That.”

He thought for a moment.

“Because,” He whispered, leaning closer. “This is more fun.” He adjusted your crumpled collar, his hands lingering there, before looking back up at you with a teasing smile. “Your ears are red again.”

And then he walked away, leaving you to stare after him in complete shock. Lee Hyunjae was not scary at all. In fact, he made your heart beat faster. Much, much faster.

–

“Can I take you out somewhere?” He had come up to you after all the books had been put away. You still couldn’t quite look him in the eyes. And it seemed that he noticed as his eyes glinted with mischievousness.

“Okay,” You replied, still avoiding his eyes like your life depended on it. “Where to?”

“I’ll tell you when you look me in the eye.”

His finger hooked under your chin, forcing you to anyway. You inhaled sharply.

“I’m looking now,” You whispered with your voice wavering.

“I was thinking, roller-skating?”

Your eyes brightened at that. “Oh yes! That would be so fun. We’re going to have so much fun.” You turned on your heel, bounding out the door.

You missed the way Hyunjae gazed at you with fondness.

–

“This is not fun,” He muttered. His knuckles were practically white with how hard he was holding on to the railing. You giggled at the sight as you easily glided past him. He watched you with a glare.

“Do you need help?” You called out to him, taking note of the way his legs wobbled like a baby deer.

“I do not,” He huffed, trying to save his pride. But then he paused. “Can you… maybe?” Now it was his turn to not look you in the eye.

“Of course.” You smiled, appearing by his side. You held out your hand in which he stared at it in confusion. “Take it,” You urged. “And follow me.”

It was strange to see how easily his flirty persona had completely disappeared at this moment. You liked this side of Hyunjae: his eyes round and nervous, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and his lips pulled into a concentrated pout. All it took was for him to choose to go roller skating. Even though he couldn’t even roller-skate himself.

Hesitantly, he took your hand in his. You ignored the way that his fingers and palm fit so perfectly with yours. You also tried to ignore how smooth and warm his hand was. And the fact that you had already felt his hand before. On your waist.

You still never quite got past that moment. Something about the memory put a butterfly-like feeling in your stomach.

“Set your feet wider apart.” You slightly pulled him away from the railing. He looked at you with an adorably nervous expression. You laughed. “When you step, try to lean on each side. So you can balance.”

He followed what you said and soon enough, the two of you were skating down the rink. Smoothly? Not really, with the way he constantly stumbled like a deer learning how to walk. But it was enjoyable, the way he would occasionally smile at you, his hand tightening on yours.

“Hyunjae, you’re a professional now,” You joked.

He scowled adorably. “You’re so funny. You enjoy my embarrassment.”

“Maybe I do,” You snorted. “You’re getting better though.”

He looked at you earnestly. You could see the way the purple and blue lights, lit up every feature of his face, creating a view that could fit perfectly in a soft-colored painting. It seemed that the lighting also affected you as his thumb began to caress your hand.

“You look pretty,” He whispered, only loud enough for you to hear.

You widened your eyes. “Hyunjae–”

“And you make me smile,” He confessed. “So thank you. For trusting me, even when others don’t. I promise I really don’t punch people on the usual.”

You laughed, your eyes crinkling. “Of course I’d trust you. You’re very charming, did you know that?”

He only scrunched his nose in response, but you could see that his ears have tinted red, even under the blue-ish lighting.

“Your ears are red,” You pointed out.

“Haha.” He narrowed his eyes.

–

Now, the two of you were walking home together. Though you did insist that you could do so on your own, he refused to leave your side. He even gave you those stupid puppy eyes that you couldn’t reject.

“Did you have fun?” He peered at you, anxiousness flitting across his expression.

You smiled reassuringly. “Definitely.” And you don’t know why you did it, but you reached forward and took his hand in yours. His eyes went wide in an adorable way as he gazed down at your connected hands. You could even see him struggle to hold back a smile.

Then, he schooled his expression into a teasing one again. The one that you’ve grown to become used to.

“Hey, do you know what this means?”

“That we’re very good friends?” You gazed at him innocently. You held hands with your friends so that must be what it means. Right?

“That we’re— what?” He stared at you in utter disbelief.

“Good friends?” You stared back. His firm grip on your hand loosened slightly at that. “Because we’re hanging out. Are we not?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought this was a da—“

But then your house came into view. You turned to him with bright eyes.

“We’re here,” You sighed. “Thank you, Hyunjae. For a wonderful hangout.”

“Hangout,” He choked out. He reluctantly let go of your hand as he still held into the tips of your fingers. “Yes, hangout. I had fun.” His smile was almost painful, forced.

You grinned, pulling away, the constant spark between your hands finally being broken. You gave him a small wave in which he did the same.

Lee Hyunjae who was a good friend. A friend who almost kissed you and held your hand the whole night. A great friend.

—

“Am I being friend-zoned?” He muttered to himself, kicking a can that lay astray on the sidewalk.

He mulled over all the possibilities. It was either you were just incredibly oblivious, or you didn’t like him back and were trying to let him off kindly. He sighed, pouting to himself.

His mind darted back to all things regarding you. He would never admit how much you made him blush just over the thought of your smile. And the way you filled him with warmth, he sometimes daydreamed of just pulling you into a hug.

Suddenly, his cheeks began to hurt. Ah. He’s smiling to himself again like a lovesick fool.

“Fine,” He groaned, slapping himself. “I’ll just get over this stupid crush.”

Should be easy.

—

Being president of the student council had its sorrows. When you said that the party was the last event of the year, apparently you were wrong. The principal suddenly wanted you to set up a fundraiser in three days' time.

Not to mention that you had exams to study for and projects to keep you up late at night. You’re not only stressed but a little bit—no—very sleep deprived.

With a pained sigh, you flopped your head on the desk, hitting your forehead with a thump that only worsened your headache. You felt someone poke your shoulder so you were forced to look up.

“Could you please do my homework?” Your classmate pleaded. “I have a date tonight but I’m failing this class.”

Another poke on your shoulder. You turned.

“Can you send me the instructions for the literature project?”

And another except on your back. You turned around again.

“For the fundraiser event, how many tabl–”

Abruptly, you stood up from your desk, your chair creating a loud sound that made everyone else in the classroom jump. You pinched the crease behind your eyebrows.

“I have a headache,” You told all three students who were pleading with you to do their work for them. Two of them simply grumbled and turned away. But one, she was your favorite of all, looked at you with kind eyes.

“You should go to the nurse’s office.”

With a deep breath, you nodded and headed out the door. Again, you were met with a choice–a fork in the road, per se. To your right, was the nurse who could treat your pounding headache. But to your left was the stairway to the rooftop of the school.

You turned left again.

Bursting through the doors, you took a long inhale as you enjoyed the fresh air. Luckily, the weather was bright and blue, perfect for clearing your head. Other than the drawings in your sketchbook, you had another secret. That was the rooftop.

You often came here whenever your brain was fuzzy with unnecessary thoughts. You liked to sit here alone, doodle on a blank page, and just be yourself. All alone.

Except you weren’t.

When you turned to your usual spot, a wall that was at a certain angle where you could see all the prettiest clouds, there was someone else sitting there.

“Hyunjae?” You peered at him.

He looked up at you with slight surprise as he pulled off his earphones. He looked attractive like this. He was sitting against the grey wall, one leg extended. His hair was messy and tousled from the wind and he had that signature smile on. You couldn’t quite tell if it was teasing or genuine. But you liked it anyway.

“Y/n,” He breathed out and then he patted the spot next to him, inviting you to sit. As you did, you immediately felt comfort from the way his shoulder pressed against yours, his warmth taking away that chilling feeling that clouded your mind the past few hours.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, turning to him. You inhaled slightly when you realized just how close he was. You took the time to run your eyes over his soft features, your gaze lingering on his bottom lip for a second longer.

“I hate physics,” He deadpanned. “And you?”

“I’m just tired,” You laughed bitterly. He took note of your tone and he shuffled even closer to you so now your legs were touching.

The two of you fell in silence. You played with your fingers with nervousness. You didn’t even know what you were nervous about. Was it him? Was it the way that he continued to look at you with so much softness in his eyes?

“You know, Hyunjae,” You started, your voice low. “You’re not all too bad.”

He huffed out a laugh. “I thought that we’ve established that a long time ago.”

“But what you said earlier. While roller-skating.” You faced him with a soft tilt of your lips. He gazed back, a strange tenderness behind his expression. “You make me smile too.”

“Oh. That’s… good,” He replied breathlessly. “Did you come here just to tell me that?”

“No.” You rolled your eyes. “I really am tired. You call me dear president but I’m tired of being one. I came here to clear my mind.”

He was quiet for a moment.

“Would you like me to leave?” He questioned.

And he didn’t even move but you were already grasping his wrist in your fingers.

“Stay,” You whispered. “I like being with you.”

His eyes widened at your words and you could even see, under the afternoon light, that his cheeks have tinted pink.

“I’m going to flunk physics class if I keep skipping,” He muttered but he still relaxed next to you.

“I can teach you,” You offered. “When I’m not exhausted.”

“Mhm,” He hummed with amusement. “You do that. When you’re not exhausted.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, you leaned your head on his shoulder. It was warm against your cheek and honestly made a great pillow. You could feel him stiffen for a second but he slowly leaned closer so that your neck wouldn’t hurt. Your fingers stayed on his wrist, holding it loosely as his hand laid out on your lap.

Quietly, he leaned his head against yours, encompassing you in warmth and… something else.

After a while, Hyunjae lifted his head to check up on you, only to find that you had fallen asleep on his shoulder, your cheek smushed (adorably, in his opinion) into it. He was glad that you weren’t awake, or else you would notice how fast his heart was pounding. Then he glanced down to where his hand was still on your lap, your fingers wrapped around gently.

He gulped thickly as he turned away. He couldn’t move but he desperately wanted to. When he had said that he would get over you, it seemed almost impossible now with how strong his feelings had become.

“I really like you,” He whispered. And he hoped that he would one day tell you when you were properly awake.

–

As time passed, you grew closer to Hyunjae. From a student that you had only merely heard rumors about, to a friend in which you’ve started to notice the way his lips moved for some reason.

It also seemed that the principal had forgotten to schedule your last detention. Not that you minded, but it made it harder for you to see him. But of course, he took it as his responsibility to take you out to places whenever he could.

And the rooftop slowly became a two-person thing. Usually, you ended up falling asleep on his shoulder. He would always reassure you that he didn’t mind.

Lately, you’ve noticed that he had grown quiet. A lot more than usual. Of course, he teased you but you’ve also taken note of the way he often liked to just look at you. If you were talking, he would gaze at you with soft eyes. Or if you smiled, he would smile back, looking at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky.

It was the night before school. You had things to prepare but mostly, you laid in bed, bored. But you lifted your head when you heard the doorbell ring. Furrowing your eyebrows and glancing at the time, you realized that you had no deliveries or guests to expect.

Rushing to the door, you turned the knob. You widened your eyes.

Hyunjae. He was dressed in his usual school uniform. Except something was different. His collar was ironed, every button was properly done, and his tie was pulled up correctly. His hair though, was still tousled. It always has been. It reminded you much of a puppy.

In his hands was a bouquet of flowers. Held close to his chest, you could recognize pink roses. You once read in a book that it meant innocent love. He looked straight out of a romance comic book. Charming in his school uniform and lovely with the flowers that complimented his golden skin.

Your eyes traveled down and–

You choked.

There was a small girl on his side. His little sister. She was grinning up at you and you couldn’t help but notice the resemblance. They both had the same deer eyes and an adorable smile. The only difference was her height which only reached up to Hyunjae’s mid-thigh, as well as her chubby cheeks.

You turned to Hyunjae.

“What are you–”

“Babysitting duty,” He blurted out. “But I just need to tell you something. If you would listen.”

You gazed at him for a moment, taking in the sight. He shuffled on his feet and you could tell that he was incredibly nervous.

“Okay,” You replied in surprise. “What is it?”

“I…” He trailed off as if his mind had suddenly gone blank. But then his sister tugged on his hand. He crouched down so that she could whisper in his ear. You watched, completely endeared.

“Right.” He cleared his throat. “I want to tell you that I…” He trailed off again. His cheeks turned red. He looked down at her. “I forgot again.”

His little sister groaned. He smiled sheepishly as he turned back to you.

“I like you.”

Your lungs felt like they were punctured as the pieces all clicked for you, just like they had when you found out his name back in that art room. The flowers in his hands which probably mean everything about romance and the fact that he fixed up his uniform for you; the soft looks whenever you would laugh; his constant flirting that you had imagined to just be his humor; it all meant something.

“You… what?” You uttered.

“I like you. I have for a while,” He said with his voice wavering. “And I was supposed to tell you this huge speech that we–” He glanced down at the small girl. “–prepared together. But I get nervous around you so I forgot.”

“Hyunjae…”

“And I don’t know if you return my feelings.” He frowned. “But I just wanted to tell you that I have this gigantic crush on you. She would know.” He gestured to her again. “She always points out how I’m always blushing.”

“Blushing?” You widened your eyes.

“Because I’m thinking of you,” Hyunjae whispered.

“Oh,” You breathed. “But why me?”

“I love everything about you.” He gave you a soft smile. That same one that you seem to see every day now. “Your smile is pretty. You’re just very beautiful. Inside and out. All the time.”

You felt like your face was on fire and that you might just suffocate from how fast your heart was beating.

He sighed, noticing your silence. “You don’t have to return your feelings or say anything ye–”

“I like you too,” You squeaked.

His lips parted at that, the flowers falling to his side. “You do?”

“Yes, I think.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’m new to this, Hyunjae.”

He grinned, looking at you teasingly. “I can guide you, dear president.”

“Don’t call me that,” You groaned.

“I can call you anything,” He muttered, stepping closer. You looked up at him, your eyes studying his soft expression. “Gorgeous.” He tucked a piece of hair around your ear.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered.

“Or would you prefer breath-taking?” He teased.

“Neither.” You squeezed your eyes shut.

“It seems that you like both, sweetheart.”

“Mister,” You warned. “There is a child present.”

He widened his eyes and he stepped away immediately as if he had just remembered. Hastily, he turned to his little sister who was staring up at the two of you innocently.

“If you speak of this to mom…” He narrowed his eyes. “She’s going to kill me, you know?”

The girl only giggled and made a zipping motion to her mouth.

You snorted at the sight.

“Hyunjae,” You spoke up again. “How long have you liked me?”

He smiled. “A long time. You’re awfully oblivious, Y/n. That time we went roller-skating was meant to be a date. And why do you brush off my flirting everytime?”

You stuttered, “I– I’m sorry. I thought–”

He laughed, gazing at you fondly. “As long as you know now.”

You hummed, leaning against the doorway. “I guess you have me now, handsome.” You looked at him slyly.

His eyes were adorably wide now. He straightened up. “Repeat that?”

“Handsome?”

“Yes, that,” He breathed out.

“Handsome.”

He turned to face his little sister. “Hold this.” He placed the bouquet of flowers in her small hands. And then he immediately stepped forward and hooked a hand around your waist. He quickly pulled you in, causing you to stumble slightly and fall into his chest. Steadying you with a small smile, he brought you into a kiss without a warning.

You gasped in surprise but you slowly relaxed into it. Your hands wandered to the back of his neck, causing him to hum with satisfaction. The kiss was soft and innocent with barely any movement and his lips were even softer than you imagined. You could sense that he was going to deepen it but you were interrupted by a small, “Gross!”

The two of you pulled apart, only to see that his little sister had cutely stuck her tongue out. He scowled playfully before reaching down to pick her up in his arms, as she tightly held onto the flower bouquet in her small hands.

“This was your idea in the first place, dummy,” He grumbled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, causing her to laugh adorably. You smiled at the sight.

Lee Hyunjae wasn’t scary at all. In fact, he was just a huge softie who had fallen in love with you.

–

You could be going on dates with Hyunjae but instead, you were still serving detention with him. After your first kiss with him, it seemed that the day after, the principal suddenly remembered to schedule your detention time.

With a sigh, you swept the classroom. Classroom 1-B, specifically Hyunjae’s classroom.

“I daydreamed a lot about you here.” He brushed past you with a small smirk.

Your cheeks flushed. “About… what?”

“A lot.” He walked past you again, this time letting his hands fall to your waist for a moment. You inhaled sharply at the sensation. “Your lips.”

You gulped, turning to him. To no surprise, he was staring straight at your lips.

“I daydreamed about hugging you.” He suddenly appeared behind you, wrapping his arms around you into a firm back hug. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he nuzzled his nose into your shoulder.

“Hyunjae,” You whispered. “We’re supposed to be cleaning right now.”

He smiled, holding you tightly. His lips only hovered over that spot on your neck. The spot that he had almost kissed back in the library.

“But we’re alone. Just the two of us,” He muttered back. You swallowed thickly, willing yourself not to let your eyes wander down. The whole day, during classes, you kept thinking of them. What it would be like to kiss them again.

Really, your only kiss with him was the one on your porch. The one that was interrupted by his little sister.

“We have responsibilities,” You shakily replied.

“But don’t you want to know about my last daydream?” He pulled away, his hand still placed on your hip.

You breathed deeply, knowing very well that your ears were red right now, which he loved to point out.

“What… is it?” You glanced at him nervously.

“I daydream about kissing you.” He leaned close from behind, letting his lips brush against the side of your cheek. And you had hoped. Really hoped that he would whip you around and pull you into a deep kiss. But much to your disappointment, he only walked by, off to pick up some crumpled test papers.

With a groan of frustration, you set your broom down.

“You can’t just say that and not–” You sighed, shutting your eyes with embarrassment. “Not kiss me.”

His eyes sparkled at that but he only spared you a glance.

“But apparently you think cleaning a classroom is more important,” He hummed. “I respect your opinion. So I guess you’ll just have to wait for my kiss.”

You glared at him for a moment. But he only tilted his head, his lips quirking up slightly. With an annoyed sigh, you picked the broom up and began to sweep the floor again. This time, a little bit faster and more aggressively.

Hyunjae only chuckled at your actions.

And purposely, like the absolute lunatic he is, he would brush past you, letting his hands trail somewhere on his body. Every time, you would scrunch your eyebrows, trying to contain the sudden need to grab his collar and pull him into a harsh kiss.

“Focus.”

“Shut up.” You glared.

“You can shut me up later.” His eyes again, traveled downwards.

Once you were sure that the floor was clean enough, you practically threw the broom off somewhere. Storming over to where he was waiting for you, leaning back against the teacher’s desk, you faced him.

“Are you going to kiss me now?” You said.

He smiled. “Should I?”

You frowned. “Because we’re finished so–”

“Can’t get enough of me?” He quirked his head. He stood up. Again, you were reminded of just how tall he was. “Can’t stop thinking of my lips?” He took a step forward. You took a step backward, blinking nervously.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

“You want to kiss me so bad, don’t you?” He teased, continuously backing you up. “That you rushed all of your cleaning just so you could press your lips to mine?”

You gasped when you realized the back of your thighs hit a student’s desk. He only continued to step closer, forcing you to sit up on the desk. He watched you with a glint in his eyes. And then he stepped in between your legs, caging you between his arms and hovering over you with his hands resting on the desk on either side of you.

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, your hands resting on his chest.

“So should we do this properly?” He asked, his voice dropping to a low tone. His gaze followed your lips, making you hold your breath. “Since she’s not here.”

Out of context, this would sound like a horrible love affair. But you only snorted since you knew that he was talking about his little sister.

“Are you saying that your sister is a bother?” You laughed.

“No.” He grinned. “But I can’t afford her to witness this.”

“Witness what?”

He smiled. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Enlighten me,” You whispered.

“Should I?” He chuckled softly, as he shuffled even closer so that your chest was against his. You could even feel his breath fan over your lips. He tilted his head with a lazy smile.

You laughed, leaning your forehead against his. “Yes,” You whispered. “Or else I’ll take the lead.”

“I would love to see that,” He teased.

And much to his surprise, you took hold of his collar, and you finally, finally, pulled him against your lips. He let out a muffled sound but he almost instantly melted against you.

Groaning with satisfaction, his hands came off the desk, instead choosing to take hold of your lower back and waist, his fingers digging into your skin. This kiss was much, much different from your first one. This one was filled with a flame that couldn’t be put out. As his lips moved against yours fervently, one hand traveled down to the side of your thigh where he pulled you closer.

You hummed as you tangled your fingers in his soft hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss. Easily, he obliged, kissing you so hard that you felt your hands go weak, going slack and resting on his chest. He never seemed to slow down either, only breaking away so that he could find his way under your jawline.

“So this finally happens,” He muttered. And he leaned back in, kissing down until he found that spot–the one that he had only lingered on before in a rickety library. Now, he was pressing kisses to your skin as he meant it. You gasped at the feeling.

“Hyunjae,” You breathed out, tugging at his collar as you tilted your head against the sensation. You could even feel him begin to smile against your neck.

“Perfume?” He whispered.

“None,” You gasped.

He pulled away, searching your eyes with so much softness you felt like you could just melt right then and there. “You smell good. Sweet like candy.”

“Shut up,” You grumbled, leaning forward so that you could hide your face in his chest. His hands came to the small of your back, pulling you into a hug. It was gentle and innocent, much different from the kiss.

And then his hand came under your chin, lifting you up so that he could press his lips to yours. This time, the two of you savored the moment, moving slowly. Both of your eyes were shut and your cheeks flushed.

“She’s only five years old,” He whispered against your lips, breaking apart reluctantly. You could tell that he was trying to catch his breath as his hands wandered across your waist. “This is PG-13.” He grinned.

You laughed. Or you tried to until he shut you up with another kiss.

“You look beautiful,” He said, his eyes gentle on yours.

“And you look like a mess.”

“And who’s fault is that?” He glanced down at his crumpled collar where you had grabbed it and initiated the kiss in the first place. You smiled up at his messy hair and his pink cheeks. Then your eyes met again.

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Please.”

And he did so, pulling you closer by the waist. You were so focused on his lips that you hadn’t noticed the voices out in the hallway.

“We just need to get the flyers for–”

The door creaked open. The two of you broke apart. You looked down at the way he had you pressed up on a desk and you choked. It must be an odd sight, seeing the so-called quiet, intimidating student making out with the picture-perfect president of the student council.

And it was Younghoon and Sunwoo–members of said council. Their eyes were wide and their mouths had dropped open. Sunwoo had even let go of the book in his hand, causing a loud thump on the floor. Younghoon’s eyes trailed from both of your spit-slicked, swollen lips down to where you were all up against each other, Hyunjae’s hand still on your waist.

You stared back and Hyunjae only pulled away slightly with a smug smirk.

Sunwoo’s eye twitched.

“What the fu–”

#deoboyznet #fics 💞#requests 💞#hyunjae fluff #hyunjae x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz imagines #the boyz x reader #tbz x reader #the boyz scenarios

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wovenstarlight · 9 months

Text

man the credit card is a metaphor.... I keep fucking thinking about them.... like ok let me actually put my thoughts down about this whole scene. starting with the intro:

[SHJ] placed a card next to the cocktail glass. A black credit card. “The old one would have become unusable.”

the old relationship, at least from shj's side towards hyj, is no longer workable, he wants things to change, which is what this whole convo is about. and hyj doesn't accept the card (the proposal) immediately because he's still wary towards shj, still keeping him at a distance. for good reason! this whole time shj has been overbearing and threatening and pushy and just Weird. it's no wonder hyj has been 3 seconds from the pepper spray

“[…] just why would you do that?” “Because I want to.” That simple answer left me speechless. It wasn’t for my sake, but just because he wanted to. How typical of that guy. I didn’t have to feel pressured after all.

what does it say that shj is like I'll make things nice and comfortable for you and you'll be safe and relaxed!!!! but what actually makes hyj at ease regarding the entire proposal is shj acting like he doesn't really care and it's not that deep. this whole time shj's been way too interested in hyj and it's been putting hyj off but what makes him chill is shj taking an emotional step back by chalking everything he's doing up to idle whims. the monetary support as a more distant, more acceptable form of interaction compared to the offputting hyperfocus (the same kind of monetary support hyj refused from prereg hyh! because in that case he wanted the overwhelming emotion and connection, but that's not something he trusts shj with, not yet)

“Since this was a show of your sincerity, Seseong Guild Leader-nim, I’ll keep it for emergency use.”

not to read too deeply into this but Emergency Use... despite rejecting shj's guardianship proposal after this conversation he does choose to rely on him when he most needs support.... and shj comes through.... thinking of all the times in VR dungeon arc when hyjs stressed out or tired or lost and shj helps him over and over.... but that's a whole separate post let's move on

I picked up the card beside the glass. I didn’t intend on using it as carelessly as I had before.

AND FINALLY HE TAKES THE CARD... accepting that their relationship is shifting from the strict "we're using each other" of before to something more caring and thoughtful... an active choice to rely on shj to be more than just a useful tool.... a Skill, if you will....

GOD. AND WHAT GETS ME. IS THAT AFTER THIS SCENE. WHEN YOOJIN LEAVES AND MEETS BACK UP WITH YOOHYUN. HE SAYS.

“You seem… happy.”

YOU SEEM HAPPYYYYYYY

also. not related to the card but this is also such a fucking paragraph ↓

I rose from my chair and held out a hand. Sung Hyunjae took my hand—he didn’t lean on it, but still took it and stood up.

GOD. hyj being able to stand on his own. shj also being able to stand on his own which is what makes hyj open up more to him because shj doesn't depend on him to stand tall. because he can take care of himself. but also because he'll take hyj's hand anyway and stay at his side, a choice on his own part, because—as he says—he wants to. if I had to pick a quote for jinjae as a relationship it would be this. [insanely] I'm normal about these two

#star.txt #my sranks #jinjae #suffixing this with the fact that it is very far past my bedtime so if this is indecipherable #then [smiles] not to me #should i make an analysis tag...? a liveblog tag? i don't know what this falls under #nsglb #i guess a non-translation liveblog tag will do for now #han yoojin #sung hyunjae

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ericsprincess · 8 months

Text

feel my breath on your neck

nc-17, smut, vampire!Hyunjae, cunnilingus, period sex

~~~

You get your period while fighting with your vampire boyfriend.

~~~

“For fucks sake, Hyunjae, how many times do I have to remind you to pick up your dirty clothes! I’m not your mom!”

“Y/N, I really don’t want to watch another reality tv, can we watch something else, for once? Ugh.”

“Could you, please, put your dirty bloody cups into the dishwasher? This must be a biohazard, you slob.”

“There is literally no space in the bathroom with all your cosmetics shit, it’s a bit too excessive, don’t you think? Who even needs so much? Jesus..”

And this was just the last 2 days. You hate to admit that, but these past few days were not easy on either of you, both separately and together. You are drowning in work deadlines, your coworkers are incompetent and your boss keeps adding you more responsibilities. You’re slacking off your workouts and that’s not only making you feel upset, but also the lack of physical activity is definitely having a detrimental effect on your mood. Which is already in gutters, because you’re definitely PMSing and in a shitty and snappy mood all the time.

Hyunjae, on the other hand, while having it breezy in his job, has different problems. Not only are there some dumb political fights in his coven that he has to navigate, but what’s worse, his favorite fancy blood bag brand has an outage and so he had to delegate to cheaper, less tasty ones. Which for him, a picky eater par excellence, is pretty much the same as an actual torture, as he had been drinking this “iron-flavoured mud” for weeks at this point. \

And on top of that, your apartment looks like a pigsty because neither of you is feeling like cleaning. And also, there is barely any food. For you, that is. You are acutely aware that just your existence is like flaunting a prime steak in front of Hyunjae and telling him that he can’t have any of it. He can only sip on his great value blood bags, while looking at you, walking around like nothing is happening. Like he can’t sense your blood running through your body even from another room.

You know you could offer him to drink from you, but since he’s been pissing you off, he can suffer. It’s not like it will harm him and if he were that desperate, he could always ask. And he’s not asking. Just staring really intensely.

So both of you are hitting low, and it shows. You haven’t even had sex in a week and while you could really use some comfort and intimacy, as well as the release, you are not quite desperate enough to initiate, not when you’re somewhat in a fighting mood. You know this will pass, it always does, and one or both of you will cave and you will make up, but you’re not quite there yet. Today, Hyunjae can go to hell, for all it matters.

And boy, are you going through it today. It’s already late evening when you finally came home, flinged your bag somewhere in the hallway and kicked off your shoes. You took a shower mostly with closed eyes and now you’re chilling on the couch with some makeshift dinner you made out of whatever you could find in the fridge, watching some dumb action movie. The lights in the living room are off, only the TV being a source of light and you’re swaddled in the blanket like a baby. Finally some rest. Your eyes are tired, your feet hurt and you’re already getting cramps, so you’re really glad you can rest for a bit. You have no idea where Hyunjae is, and frankly, you don’t care.

You’re almost falling asleep when an explosion from the TV resonates through the room and wakes you up from dozing off. You sit up and look for the remote to turn the volume down when the bedroom door opens.

“Could you please turn that shit down? I’m trying to take a nap here,” Well, here he is.

“I was already doing that, calm down,” you roll your eyes.

“I would really appreciate it, if you were more considerate regarding the fact that you don’t live alone, Y/N,” Hyunjae grumbles. He looks like he wants to argue, but you are not in the mood to have a passive aggressive fight right now so you get up and try to pass through him to get to the bedroom.

You’re just about to get past him when he suddenly grabs you by your arms.

“You…” he whispers.

“What? Let me go, I’m going to sleep,” you try to shake him off but he’s holding you in straight up iron grip.

“Can’t you…can’t you feel it?” he presses, his whole demeanor a complete change from just a minute ago. His eyes are huge like saucers, and his voice is almost shaking. He’s still grabbing your arm, but how it feels more like he’s holding onto you.

“Feel what? I don’t get it, what’s going on? Hyunjae, you’re scaring me,” you ask with concern, not getting his sudden change in behavior.

“The blood. You’re bleeding.” he replies impatiently, as if you were too slow to catch up on something that’s been obvious the whole time.

“Am I?” you ask incredulously. Why is he so weird? You’re not injured or anything, except… You shift your weight. There is a dampness in your panties that haven’t been there a while ago. Oh.

“Oh,” you whisper. “Yeah, I guess I am…”

“You guess? I can smell it, Y/N,” he whines. “Can I..can I have it please?” he asks with a small voice.

“Have it?” you ask, feigning a surprise, but you know what he wants. It’s not the first time he expressed a desire like that, but he has never been so desperate to ask for it so insistently. But you’re not the one to give up so easily. You could use an orgasm to help you with the cramps though.

“Don’t make me say it,” he pleads, looking borderline desperate. And that’s something you really like seeing on him.

“Oh you’re going to say it. If you won’t, you’re not getting anything,” you smirk.

“Y/N..can I please eat you out? Please, I haven’t had a drop of normal blood in weeks and you smell so good… Please, don’t let it go to waste,” he begs, falling on his knees. He hugs you around your hips and looks like he’s fighting with himself to not rub his face all over your crotch to get more of the scent.

“2 weeks of washing dishes and I get to choose what we watch, and it’s all yours,” you spit out. You’re not going to let the opportunity to get something out of it slide like that.

“Deal,” he breathes out and lifts you just like that. He takes a few strides across the room and almost throws you on the bed with how in hurry he is. You reach to take off your sweatpants and underwear, but he’s already there, ripping it off you as if it personally offended him.

It takes him just a few seconds before he’s straight up latched onto your pussy. His tongue licking all around, gathering all the blood that already leaked out of you, licking you clean. It’s hot and wet and his warm breath on you is arousing, as well as looking at how enthusiastic he is about this whole thing. You briefly think about how this should feel disgusting but it’s hard to think about it that way when he is so into it. And blood is a normal, daily encounter for him.

He’s also not forgetting about your pleasure. It’s not like he’s just doing it for himself, but he’s really trying to get you off too, flattening his tongue to lick over your clit in broad strokes, until he slowly builds up the tempo so he can just flick over it.

It feels really good and you’re getting there, but then, to your displeasure, he moves his tongue to your hole, pushing it as far as he can, chasing the blood and its taste. You whine and you’re considering grabbing him by his hair and moving him back to sucking your clit, but you decide it’s only fair. He can get the blood you promised. Especially since you can see him moving one hand down and taking out his cock, hard and leaking, so that he can jerk it off as he eats you out.

“Y/N, this tastes so good,” his voice is muffled, since his face is pressed against your pussy. “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted…Y/N, I’m gonna cum,” Oh no.

Now you really yank him off by his hair. He blinks at you, and oh what a sight - his pretty doll face, pale, with eyes glossed over and pupils dilated. His mouth and chin are both red and glistening with your blood and pussy juices.

“Me first.” you growl at him, and he just nods, too dazed to protest and leans back down. He’s not playing anymore, licking over your clit as best and fast as he can, doing his best to get you off quickly.

You can feel it coming and you don’t want to prolong the wait either, so you let him make you come, your thighs squeezing his head hard, so he couldn’t breath even if he still had to. He continues until he can feel your orgasm fade, and then immediately moves back to tonguing at your hole, trying to get the most of the new blood and slick that gushed out of you when you came.

You hear the sound of him frantically jerking off and you can even tell when he’s coming, as he’s almost sobbing with pleasure. He slumps down on the bed, completely tired and fucked out.

“This was really great, thank you,” he wheezes, still catching his breath. “I could do this every day, it’s worth all the dishwashing duty you would bargain out of me.”

You poke his shoulder with a toe. Now that’s an idea.

“Play your cards right and you can have a whole week of this.”

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loosingmoreletters · 3 months

Note

Your s classes fics aew so good they've pulled me into the fandom again. Now gonna have to see how far the manwha is along! Hahha

(Also since I love your fics so much, I'm not sure if you read fics for fandom you write (I know some authors don't) but if you have any recs... 👀

Thank you!!!! I'm glad you enjoyed it and I hope you had fun with the current chapters!

And yes, I always have recs for fandoms I write because I usually only start writing once I'm truly obsessed or couldn't find a fic that hit quite the vibe I wanted.

Anyway! Fanfic recs! This list has a little bit of everything, I think!

never leave a trace by armed_teddy_bear The Han parents haunt Han Yoojin.

Last Forsythia’s Bloom by Lazlo (hinagikuhaven) Yoojin is hit by a fuck or die curse. Daunted by the knowledge of the cure that will force Yoohyun to make a terrible choice, Yoojin chooses to run away. warning for incest and dubcon

Slumbering Stars by FeltLikeWritingAndHereIAm The world ended when Han Yoojin’s brother died between his arms. Nothing will ever be the same, not even with a second chance.

Behind A Smile by Lazlo (hinagikuhaven) In hindsight, Yoohyun should have long suspected it. The abyss that laid behind his brother’s happy smiles.

does that mean by Frill Sung Hyunjae and Han Yoojin knew one another before the dungeons.

S-Rank Skill Poison Nullification! by chamsie Rather than getting famous for his taming skills, Yoojin accidentally becomes infamous for his ability to eat any and all poisons without dying.

and tomorrow may be something to look for by wovenstarlight Han Yoojin time travels instead of regressing. This causes some problems.

the ghost of you (will never leave me) by Sorbus Han Yoojin has skills geared towards the mind and lending or borrowing power. It only makes sense that if he has a skill to receive the memories of others alongside their power and skills, he could sacrifice his memories of others in return for some strength. Han Yoojin has a skill that lets him give up memories of someone he holds dear in exchange for more power. Things change, but ultimately stay the same.

Now We Have by Frill Han Yoojin can tame monsters. He meets Bak Yerim and Yoo Myeongwoo in a dungeon.

but i have promises to keep (and miles to go before i sleep) by Anonymous Of all the possible ways the Awakening broker could’ve scammed her, Bak Yerim never considered abandoning her in a dungeon as one of them. Stealing her money and never actually bringing her to a dungeon? Definitely. Taking her money and then reporting her to the authorities? Yeah. Going through the effort of bringing her here and leaving her? Wasn’t even a thought in her head. And yet here she was, completely alone in a dungeon. Well. Fuck. or, bak yerim ends up stuck in a dungeon and meetings a certain someone

My Sweetheart by armed_teddy_bear Bak Yerim finds the Han family’s home videos, featuring a young Han Yoojin and baby Han Yoohyun.

Isolation Training by armed_teddy_bear Han Yoojin kept a diary to deal with the stress of his separation with Yoohyun. While moving his brother’s things, Yoohyun finds it.

The Ghost That Lives With Us by Anonymous Hatred comes to Yoohyun as unnaturally as love, and just as intensely.

If love is the answer could you please rephrase the question? by theladyofcamelias Yoojin goes on a date with an old high school acquaintance. Everybody is perfectly normal about this in case you were wondering.

travel logs to you by flyingintherainclouds In which Han Yoojin has decided to live a quiet life, as requested of him by his dear brother, who anonymously deposits money into his bank account. He goes traveling two years after Yoohyun left, determined to come back whole. Still, he can't bear to leave without telling his brother, so he sends recordings of himself on his travels to him. secondary title: recordings to you, from my heart to yours

love me, love me not (love me) by Yersina “Hi,” Yoojin croaks into his phone. His stomach had been churning from downing too many healing potions in a row, so he’d been experimenting with just letting the coughs happen. Now he’s starting to regret that a bit. “I’d like to make an appointment.” He gives the nurse his information and stares out the window of his apartment while she looks up his records. “What are you coming in for?” “Hanahaki surgery.”

new dog's old tricks by snipsnap In which Yoojin doesn’t wake up at the broker. This changes everything. Or: being from the future gives you a lot of strings to pull. Yoojin is studying the harp.

[Final Repayment] by Frill “I…” Yoohyun let go of Yoojin’s hand. The curly-haired man stood there awkwardly before asking, “May I come in?” Yoojin stepped to the side quickly. “Come in, Yoohyun-ah. You’re always welcomed.” Yoojin was very confused when his dongsaeng appeared on his doorstep after 3 months of silence.

convention no. 138 by Yersina Yoojin strokes through Yoohyun’s hair once, and the clumps of dirt that fall from the action remind him of where they’re currently standing. “Yoohyun, why are you in a crater? What happened?” At this, Yoohyun untwists himself just enough from Yoojin’s hold to raise a handful of flames in Yoojin’s direction. “Hyung, I think I have magic powers,” he says solemnly. Yoojin stares for a long moment, long enough that Yoohyun clenches his fist, extinguishing the fire, and looks up at Yoojin worriedly. “Okay,” he manages eventually. “Okay. Sure. Yeah.” He was attacked by dinosaurs and his eleven year old brother has magic powers. That’s… this is fine.

Fighting with Fear by Turacin (Turacoverdin) When a raid of an S-class dungeon goes wrong and a conspiracy is revealed, the only option Yoojin has is to take care of it all himself. Unfortunately, he must violently kill fourteen people and an S-class snail boss to do so. The consequences of this are not what he expected.

You Before Forever by Vehemenace When Han Yoojin regresses, he isn't sitting in one of Haeyeon Guild's guest rooms. Instead, he finds himself in the middle of the streets of Seoul, disoriented, with the feeling of his brother's corpse imprinted on his hands.

#sctir #s classes that i raised #ask #fanfic recs #captainadwen

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hcuyk · 1 month

Text

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.

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

“Well yeah, but the—”

“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.

“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.”

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 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.

“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.

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!”

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

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.”

“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.

“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??”

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

“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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

“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.”

“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.”

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.

“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.

“So you want me to do it?”

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

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.

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

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

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?

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.

“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.

“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.”

“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?

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 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.

“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.”

“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.

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.

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.

“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.”

And Hyunjae was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

“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.

“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.

“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.

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.

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.

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.

“Hello?”

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.”

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

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.

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.

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.”

“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?”

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.

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.”

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.

“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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

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.

“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.

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?”

“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?”

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.

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.”

“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.

“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?”

And Hyunjae took no time breaking it from your neck.

“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.

“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.

“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.

“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.”

“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.

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.

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.

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.

“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.

“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.

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.

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.”

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — THE BOYZ

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