#the boyz marvel au
Text
𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞
spiderman!kim sunwoo x reader (slight eric x reader)
6.7k words, spiderman across the spiderverse au, superhero au, est. relationship au, swearing, spoilers for the atsv movie! but some details of the plot are tweaked to fit my narrative (you'll see that i basically took one of the iconic scenes and put it in writing lol), mentions of death, mild violence, low-key not a full plot..?, kissing, slight angst, BARELY PROOFREAD IT'S LATE I'M SORRY
a/n: apologies in advance for shit poor storytelling in this one 😭 i just wanted to get this idea down and out before i chickened out TT
His name was Kim Sunwoo, and you happened to know his story pretty well. After all, he was Brooklyn's one and only Spiderman.
"AHHH HOLY SHIT—"
You pulled your phone away from your ear with practiced grace as Sunwoo screeched through the speaker. The words from your textbook blurred as your focus drifted completely away from your assignment.
"BABY, I ALMOST GOT HIT BY A BUS."
"Again?" You teased, flipping the page backward to restart your reading. There was no way you were going to be able to get anything done while on call with your boyfriend, especially while he was actively swinging across New York traffic.
You heard his huff over the long blast of a car horn. "Hey! It wasn't even my fault this time; that guy definitely had headphones in, which is totally illegal."
Snickering, you leaned back in your desk chair and peered out the window of your apartment's bedroom at the city beyond. He would probably be here any minute now. "You should go arrest him then. Aren't you Mister Superhero now?"
"Mister Multiversal Superhero," he corrected with a tone that definitely sounded like he had the biggest grin on his face.
You rolled your eyes good naturedly. "Uh-huh. So is Mister Multiversal Superhero almost here or do I have to find another superhero to come rescue me?"
Just as you said this, your eyes spotted a blur of black and red swinging himself around the apartment building at the end of your block. He was steadily making his way to you, as you knew he had been.
"Woah, wait, have you been seeing other superheroes?"
You rested your cheek against your fist as you watched him get closer and closer. "Well, now that we know that there are multiple universes out there, who knows?"
Spiderman landed quietly on the metal railing of your fire escape, hands braced between his legs in the iconic pose. His suit was black and tight to his skin, leaving close to nothing to the imagination and allowing for easy movement. The ensemble was completed by a red spider symbol drawn over his chest, and a black hoodie thrown over the uniform.
Sunwoo gazed at you from behind the white lenses of his mask on the other side of your window. His heart never failed to literally fly out of his body when he saw you look at him like that. "Ma'am, I'm going to need you to open this window up," he coughed in his forced deep voice, even though he knew that you knew exactly who he was. It was all for fun and to see you smile anyway.
You put your mouth near the speaker of your phone. "It's open, tiger."
Oh, dear heavens…
He could have fainted off the fire escape then, backflipped through the air, and landed kur-splat on the Brooklyn sidewalk while still maintaining the hearts in his eyes. He ended the call feeding through his mask's wireless control, before going through the familiar motions of wiggling the locking mechanism, hauling the window up, and slipping inside your bedroom. He was hit with the smell of your soap and your laundry detergent, and took in a lungful of it. This was what home smelled like. It was simple, yet quaint and soft and nothing like the busy, dangerous world outside.
You stood from your desk chair and walked into his embrace as he shot his web shooters at the window shutter strings and yanked your shutters down and closed. "Show off," you mused, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and using the other to gently pull the mask up and off his lower face.
"Only for you." His pouty lips smiled, and his arms came around your form. "Hi baby."
"Hi tiger." You grazed your thumb over his lips. "Everything okay today?"
"Mhm," he hummed, rubbing his lips together. "You're not gonna take the rest of the mask off?" He chuckled.
"I kind of like you like this."
"I knew it; is this what you use me for? You only love me for my—mmmh!" You shut him up as you yanked him over to you and drew his mouth to yours in a proper greeting kiss. He melted into you with a soft moan, hands cradling you at your waist and lower back as your fronts melded together.
When you both pulled back, Sunwoo took the opportunity to tear his mask off and shove the garment into the pocket of his jacket. The two of you shared a grin.
"So, I hear you're in need of rescu—"
BONK!
You and Sunwoo froze at the sound of the metal railing outside your window rattling, followed by a swear and a familiar-sounding voice hissing, "Ow!"
Sunwoo's smile slipped into an annoyed frown as he yanked the shutter string to send the shutter flying upward. The motion revealed a young man perched where Sunwoo had been just a couple of minutes ago, except in less of the classic Spiderman pose, and more of a one-foot-balance-act situation. The newcomer wore a costume in dark red and black, but a larger percentage of red than Sunwoo's red spider. He rubbed his forehead furiously from where Sunwoo guessed he had hit his head on the fire escape for the apartment above yours.
The thought made him break his irritated expression and laugh. "Changmin hyung, do you just suck at aiming or something?"
The scarlet spider's white eyes narrowed slightly, and he simply held the place where his head hurt. "Hey, you try swinging around in an alternate New York City! Your universe is similar enough to mine, but I feel like everything's been moved, like, an inch to the left. Absolutely ridiculous."
You smiled in amusement, too, taking a step back to settle down in your desk chair again while Sunwoo leaned against the wall next to the window and poked his head out. "Welcome to Earth 412, I guess," you chuckled.
The alternate Spider man made a little waving motion with his hand. "Yeah, thanks, Yn. You know, it's so weird being back here."
"Why are you back?" Sunwoo asked. "As much as I enjoy you cockblocking me—" He hissed as you delivered a swift kick to his shin, "—yah! Okay, okay, I'm sorry!—Sangyeon hyung only said to use the watches when called for." He gestured to the sleek, black watch wrapped around his left wrist. It was a way to communicate between universes, as well as perform a variety of different tasks, one of them being traveling from universe to universe, as well.
Changmin, the spider of Earth 115, sighed and scratched the back of his head. "Well, I actually came to warn you."
Sunwoo tensed. "Huh?"
"Sangyeon's going to call you in soon."
"Oh, okay. I don't exactly see why you would need to warn me about that."
Changmin shook his head. "No, you don't—I can't… really tell you. Not here." His eyes flickered over to you, who sat listening intently. You and Sunwoo exchanged glances, and then Sunwoo looked back to his friend.
"Don't be held up on my account," you piped up in an attempt to lighten the mood. You stood and planted a kiss on Sunwoo's cheek. "Go do what you boys need to do."
Sunwoo smiled at you, grabbing your hand to give it a squeeze, before donning his mask once more. "I'll be back for dinner," he called back to you as he slipped out onto the fire escape with Changmin.
Your laugh rang in his ears as he swung away. "I'll hold you to it!"
Sunwoo grabbed onto the fire escape above yours to give him a swinging start, fingers triggering the firing mechanism of his web shooters as he defied gravity. With a WAHOO!, he slipped through the New York City skies, Changmin following closely after him. There was a place Sunwoo had in mind where the two of them could speak in private, without worry of anyone else eavesdropping or seeing them.
Behind the massive billboard face of Nike's most recent Air Jordans release, the two spider people landed near silent onto the cement rooftop. Sunwoo hopped up onto the railing behind the billboard, holding his arms as he walked across the beam with no problems. Changmin climbed up next to him, leaning against the end pole.
"So what's this all about?" Sunwoo asked above the cacophony of New York below.
Changmin crossed his arms. "You know when we recruited you?"
He stopped, turning to face his friend. "Yeah, what about it?" Sunwoo had been recruited to Sangyeon's team of multiversal spider people several months ago, when a particle collider in his universe threatened to dismantle the entirety of space and time as you knew it. When Sunwoo had stopped the collider from being restarted the first time, the resulting test had brought a handful of multiversal spiders crashing into Earth 412. It had been a mind blowing experience to learn about the multiverse, and that, for once, he wasn't actually alone.
He finally met people who understood him. He didn't have to carry the weight of this all by himself.
"We didn't tell you everything." There was a tension in his friend's shoulders and posture as he said this.
Sunwoo eyed him with trepidation and let out a nervous laugh. "What—what does that even mean?"
A tingling sensation erupted in Sunwoo's head, and both he and Changmin's focus whipped over toward the rooftop below where a large orange portal appeared. It felt as if it had torn a hole through the air, shoving its vacuum-like opening through the world. Sunwoo's heart leapt into his throat; it looked like he was about to find out from the man himself.
He briefly heard Changmin's curse disappear in the wind, and the two spiders leapt off the beams to meet the others coming through the portal to greet them.
Through the portal came one other, a Spiderman dressed in dark crimson and gold, a gold colored slab of lightweight metal attached to his back where four robotic metal legs would emerge when summoned. His helmet retracted, folding inwards on itself like that of a gradient—nano technology, as the wearer, Chanhee of Earth 426, had explained to Sunwoo when they first met.
"Did you tell him?" Chanhee asked Changmin.
The scarlet spider gave a brief shake of his head. "Nope," he said. Sunwoo could hear the disappointment in his tone.
"Told you coming earlier would've been better," Chanhee replied, inclining his head as he turned back to step into the portal, a silent beckon for them to follow.
Sunwoo exchanged glances with Changmin. "It's nice to see you too, hyung," Sunwoo teased.
Chanhee sent a look back to Sunwoo just before he stepped fully into the vortex portal. "You won't be saying that pretty soon."
He didn't have time to question any of this interaction, absolutely none. His brain ran wild with possibilities as he followed Changmin and Chanhee back to Earth 114. There was a sinking feeling in his gut… something he didn't even need his spider sense to tell him. Maybe he should have told you he wouldn't make it back for dinner after all.
The New York of Earth 114 was home to the headquarters of the multiversal spiders called the Spider Society. It didn't matter how many times Sunwoo saw it with his own eyes, he could never take the awe out of his mouth. His lips parted in wonder as he passed by criss crossing pathways slicing to his left, right, and above and below him. Spider-beings passed by him in masses, all ranging in different varieties from their own diverse universes.
His friends walked ahead of him whilst making quiet conversation with one another, though it seemed like a hushed argument. That was why he refrained from butting in; something made him stay out of it. He didn't know why he feared what came ahead. For once, it wasn't his head saying it; it was his gut.
The scarlet and iron spider were leading him deeper into headquarters to where the shadows ran darker and the machinery ran faster. They passed by Chanhee's usual workstation where he manned the Go Home Machine, the device that scanned a being's target DNA and sent them back from where they came. Usually it was meant for Anomalies, beings that managed to crawl through the cracks between universes and ended up in one that would not be able to sustain them. Usually.
Instead of Chanhee manning the helm, however, there were a couple other spiders Sunwoo didn't recognize trying to labor over it and watch the machine do its thing. Maybe they were his protégés?
"Hey! You guys aren't teenagers; keep an eye on it, would you?" Chanhee barked at the spiders there, who immediately jolted into action.
Chanhee shook his head with an aggravated sigh. "This is what happens when people can't do what they're supposed to." He sent Changmin a pointed look, to which the latter pointedly ignored.
Sunwoo raised a hand in greeting as a few of his other friends passed by. "Hey guys!"
"Sup man," Kevin, Earth 223's resident Spider, exclaimed back in a wave. He, Juyeon, and Haknyeon all seemed to be headed out somewhere together, most likely on an assignment of their own. There were a couple others who Sunwoo had yet to see just yet, but he had a feeling that was about to be remedied.
They passed all the way into the inner lair, a large tunnel space that opened up into a taller tower-like area, housing a floating platform that acted as an office space of sorts. Navy blue light shone through the skylight at the very top of the tower, washing all of the specimens below it in that cool toned filter.
"—just a kid, Sangyeon."
"I've already made up my mind. Don't fight me on this, Jacob. He's already here."
Sunwoo swallowed at the sound of the distinct voices; he had a sneaking suspicion that the he Sangyeon and Jacob were referring to was him. He fidgeted with the watch on his wrist, trying desperately to calm his palpitating heart.
Changmin and Chanhee led him to the edge of the dark tunnel to peer up into the blue tower office. "We brought him," Chanhee said, his voice echoing against the tower walls.
The raised platform began to slowly make its descent, and Sunwoo gradually saw the spiders located onboard. There was Jacob of Earth 530 with his black uniform and pale yellow accents; and then there was Sangyeon of Earth 114, this Earth, with his broad shoulders fitted in a blue and red costume, a spider on the back that looked closer to fangs rather than the insect itself. Sangyeon was different from most of the spiders here—he was self-made, in the way that he had to continually inject himself with this red shit that made Sunwoo squirm in order to retain his powers… at least, that was what Changmin told him.
When the platform had lowered enough to fully view Sangyeon and Jacob but not enough for it to reach the ground, the two executives turned to face their guests.
"Hi hyungs," Sunwoo greeted, attempting to force the nerves out of his voice.
Jacob shot him a sunshine-like smile. "Hello Sunwoo. Nice to see you." He jabbed Sangyeon in the side with his elbow, urging the eldest to make his greeting.
Sangyeon's stony expression did not change. "Do you know why you're here?"
Jacob made an exasperated face, but said nothing else.
Sunwoo swallowed. "No sir. I'm guessing it's not for tteokbokki."
From beside him, he heard Chanhee snort and had to turn his head away to laugh.
Sangyeon merely lifted an unamused brow. He silently walked off the platform and landed on the ground floor with ease. Jacob followed swiftly after him. "When we first recruited you—and I use that term loosely—" He narrowed his eyes at Changmin in nod to his unconventionally forceful method of getting Sunwoo onto the team, "—we failed to mention something to you."
"I've pieced that much together," Sunwoo said, hand reaching up to cup the back of his head.
"Do you know what we're all connected by?" The blue and red spider asked. "Not simply by the names or insect we represent, but the destinies, the canon events written into our very DNA."
Sunwoo cracked his knuckles, heart kick-starting in his chest again like it was chugging up the incline of a rollercoaster. "What… what do you mean by canon?"
"A canon event is something like a pattern. It's a solidified event in your life, Sunwoo—in all of our lives." Sangyeon activated something with his watch, and the room was engulfed in a living hologram of orange. Lines zigzagged amongst each other like the connected dots, and Sangyeon expanded them with a flourish, revealing a familiar lineup of spider people to whom Sunwoo was acquainted with.
The lights of the hologram cut across the shadows of Sangyeon's face like a nightmare. "We're all made who we are by these canon events. Each spider being from each verse is shackled to the death of a mentor figure—"
Scenes of uncles and fathers being murdered flashed before Sunwoo's widened eyes, his body going slack at seeing his own uncle's dying breath leave his body. He couldn't even figure out what to say or think; his tongue had gone heavy in his mouth, words stringing together as slow and thick as wet sand. He couldn't breathe, all of a sudden. His uncle's eyes lost the light in them, they dimmed and dimmed and dimmed—hadn't it been all his fault? Couldn't he have been there to stop the robber?
"—and the death of one Captain or his… child."
More hunched over figures, one after the other, blood, tears, death—why was this being shown to him? Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. Wait—did he just say Captain or his child?
"What," blew out of Sunwoo's mouth, breathlessly. "Wait, are you saying that—that Yn, my Yn, or her father is supposed to die?"
Sangyeon didn't answer immediately, but instead said gravely, "Canon events must happen, Sunwoo, or the fate of that world would be at stake. It would implode in on itself and destroy millions of innocent lives."
Sunwoo felt his heart rate spike, head whipping around to Jacob, to Changmin, to Chanhee. He imagined his eyes looked wild. "You're telling me she's going to die? Or her father—and, and what? What's the point of telling me all this?"
He couldn't let you die. He couldn't bear that devastation—not without at least trying to save you or your dad.
"When?" He huffed, fingers diving into his hair, mask fisted in one of his hands. "When is this happening?" He demanded.
A beat. "Three days."
Everything went quiet… and then the sound came rushing back in like a tidal wave crashing toward the shoreline.
"I have to save them—"
Jacob's voice cut in. "Sangyeon," like a warning.
But Sangyeon shook his head. "Oh no you don't."
Blood thundered in Sunwoo's ears as he yanked his mask back over his head and made a dash for the exit, only to have an orange, crystalline cage trap him in his place. Panic clambered into the dregs of his throat, suffocating suffocating suffocating…
"Sangyeon!"
"Sangyeon, don't do this!"
"He's just a fucking kid—!"
The world was spinning, and Sunwoo grunted as he punched and assaulted the cage walls, his friends pressing up against the outside and attempting to break through, too. "LET ME OUT!"
There were deep shadows beneath Sangyeon's eyes and he watched on with little to no sympathy. "It's for the good of the multiverse, Sunwoo. You'll understand someday."
Sunwoo bared his teeth. "You can't fucking expect me to not fight you on this."
"It will only be for a few days."
"Fuck you!" The amounting rage in Sunwoo's veins accumulated in a mass of electricity, and he forced that energy out at the force fields trapping him in. He screwed his eyes shut, arms swinging over his face, as he protected himself from the blast. When the cage shattered and blew his colleagues backward, Sunwoo wasted no time in sprinting down the hall.
An enraged roar followed after him—a web shooting past Sunwoo's face—not to grab Sunwoo, but instead to rip the watch right off his wrist.
He swore under his breath as he tripped over a piece of metal, cursing even more as he racked his brain for a way to get back to his earth.
"Bring me Kim Sunwoo," Sangyeon's voice boomed throughout the Spider Society's headquarters, accompanied by whirring red apocalypse lights, "don't let the Anomaly go home."
Anomaly—?
But Sunwoo had little time to dwell on that choice label as he slid through a closing doorway, nearly missing another spider's web flinging at his face.
"Okay, Sunwoo," he said aloud to himself as he emerged into the main quad area. It was bright out here, and hundreds of spider beings milled about like they were all at one massive Spider convention.
"He is an Anomaly, and considered armed and dangerous."
"Oh, shut the fuck up!" Sunwoo cried in distress, aiming his web shooter for one of the high rafters as everyone in the room set their eyes on him.
Dodging skilled versions of himself was not the easiest task, and he weaved through the masses like something akin to a thread through the eye of a needle.
He dared not look back as he crashed through one of the windows of the society headquarters and went soaring down into Earth 114's main city. The city itself was a funnel dive, forcing Sunwoo to zip his limbs to his side and thread the needle through multiple layers of hover transportation and floating roads. Cars were turned up on their sides and he nearly hit his head on a dozen traffic lights.
"Get him!"
"This guy is everywhere!" Sunwoo groaned as he leapt from hood to hood, eyes scanning for a place to duck into and hide. The tingling sensation in his brain was ever-present, and kept him well informed of the encroaching Lee Sangyeon.
"AHHH FUCK!" He screeched, forcefully diving off the side of the road. A long, screeching honk echoed after him. "It's always the buses!"
The level below became a labyrinth of metal rafters and pipes. Steam blew out from unseen origins, but provided the perfect cover for Sunwoo to slip through and catch his breath. He pressed his back up against one of the cool, metal bars, his fingers pressing against his eyes in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.
His heart was five palpitations from clearing his ribcage at this point. He needed a plan—he had to have a—
"What the—" Web slapped against his back and yanked him into an abandoned alcove, "—shit!"
Sunwoo groaned as he crashed to the hard ground, furiously rubbing his tailbone after the impact. He glanced up and met Changmin's eyes, who kneeled down beside him.
"Before you go all rage on me," Changmin said and held up his palms in surrender, "just hear me out, okay?"
Sunwoo's chest rose and fell rapidly. He narrowed his eyes on his friend whose face was hidden behind his own mask. "Yeah, okay… fine," he huffed, "but only… only because—" he staggered, climbing to his feet, "I need to catch my breath."
Changmin cocked his head as if he didn't believe that. "Ohh-kay whatever you say." But even as he said this, he still kept his hands out as if placating a hungry lion. "Sunwoo, I know it's a lot to take in—"
"Yeah, no shit," he spat. Fear spiked in his chest, so hard that it was experiencing a heart attack each time. His uncle's death replayed in his head over and over—but now your eyes, draining of life, joined that visual. It was enough to make dread weigh in the pit of his stomach, an anchor that dragged him down. And yet, the adrenaline was still there, the instinct to do something about it.
His friend suddenly tugged his mask off, revealing his face and mess of curls glistening in sweat and worry. "Hey man, I know it's scary and I know that it is unfair—"
"Hyung, he wants me to let them die!"
"It's to save lives, Sunwoo!"
"So you would let your own significant other die? Even if you have the foresight to save them?" Sunwoo scoffed in disbelief. "You would leave their life or their father's life to whatever bullshit—a canon event—dictated?"
Changmin's brows furrowed and he swallowed. "It is not that simple."
"It sounds pretty damn crystal clear to me."
His friend inched toward him. "We're all mad about it, Sunwoo—devastated, destroyed, even. It's not something easy to digest—and, and I admit that I haven't even fully digested it myself. It's not something I've really… I've really thought about."
Sunwoo stared into Changmin's eyes as if he could peer right into his soul. There was pain in Changmin's voice, a sort of tension that he could identify with. A tension that was human. Sunwoo's hands shook. "Changmin—" he exhaled, "—Changmin, I'm scared."
There was that sheen of compassion in Changmin's eyes as he planted his hands on either of Sunwoo's shoulders. "It's okay. You're gonna be okay. I got you."
And for a second, Sunwoo believed that.
Beep beep beep… Both heads whipped toward the watch on Changmin's wrist. "Target acquired. Changmin, we are heading toward you now." Sangyeon.
Betrayal ripped through Sunwoo, a strike of lightning, and he tore away from Changmin, stumbling and knees shaking. The latter gaped at him, then the watch on his wrist, mouth open like a gaping fish. "I—I swear to god, I didn't know it could do that—!"
It was no use. Sunwoo didn't have the time to entertain what ifs—he launched himself out of the alcove just as the walls crashed inward with the arrival of backup.
Think, Sunwoo, think!
Sunwoo furiously stumbled, clambered, whipped himself up and through vehicles screaming toward him and at him. His ears rang with the echoes of their horns, along with the distant (but encroaching) sound of Sangyeon's voice.
Why was keeping Sunwoo at bay so important? There was no way that stopping two people from being murdered would cause a rift in the space-time continuum. He couldn't be that important in the grand scheme of things—?
A hand grappled his ankle and Sunwoo yelped.
"Kid, you're making a mistake!" Sangyeon yelled above the cacophony of traffic raging all around them.
Sunwoo, heart beat tittering on the brink of collapse from the jumpscare, held firm to the hood of the SUV headed up and out of the main city. He peered under him, where Sangyeon stood just below, his hand stopping Sunwoo from going any further.
"You have nowhere to run, you know."
Sunwoo knew. God, he knew. "How could you step aside and let them die?" He exclaimed with his whole chest. He couldn't bear the thought.
A muscle feathered in Sangyeon's jaw. "You would choose the life of one person over millions? You're too young to understand, Sunwoo."
Youth, that was always the fucking argument, huh? Sunwoo's lip curled in disdain. "Just because you couldn't save whoever in your past doesn't mean that I—can't!" With the last word, he stomped Sangyeon's hand away with his other foot and flung himself further up to the next vehicle.
He heard the growl of rage behind him as he scrambled to swing himself up to the next thing. He slammed his fingers against his web shooter, spitting web fluid against the wind berating him at anything, literally anything it could catch.
When it caught onto something, he went flying with it—soaring up toward the sun on the high-speed train.
A flurry of spiders followed swiftly after him as Sunwoo continued his climb. Heart pounding, he gasped for air at this altitude, head twisting backward to catch a glimpse of how he had done so far.
You have nowhere to run, you know.
Well, Sunwoo didn't have to run anywhere. He just had to get far enough.
Sangyeon was the closest on his tail, his teeth bared, and for the first time, Sunwoo could see the threatening gleam of his razor-sharp canines. He made one massive leap up to where Sunwoo was, yanking down on his legs, clawing at his back. Sunwoo kicked his legs out in an attempt to fling him off—shot web fluid in Sangyeon's eyes, but it only seemed to irritate him even further.
Sunwoo cursed as he rolled out of the way of an incoming punch, cursing again when Sangyeon fisted the material of hoodie and pulled him into his grasp, predator meeting prey.
Sangyeon grasped him by the back of the head and slammed his face into the metal— "Maybe I should just get rid of you," he growled into Sunwoo's ear as the latter tried desperately to swing out of this hold, "you weren't even supposed to exist anyway."
Something foreign tugged at Sunwoo's chest. "Man, you gotta stop talking in riddles—!"
He pressed his side against the train car and horse-kicked Sangyeon's lower waist as hard as he possibly could. As if it happened in slow motion, he watched Sangyeon lose his grip and fumble to stay on board the train, but it was enough.
Sunwoo dove straight off the metro and headed straight for the now abandoned headquarters, hands jamming into the pockets of his hoodie and catching the wind to slow his fall. Wind roared through his ears, muffling the sound of Sangyeon's pure irritation as the older spider no doubt dove after him. Sunwoo's eyes zeroed in on his desired landing place, cradling his head with his arms to soften the impact.
The window shattered on impact—he tucked, rolled, and ran.
This time, he willed himself to turn invisible to the eye, even heightened spider eyes. His brain scrambled as he made a mad dash for the Go Home machine. It was somewhere around here—which damn hallway was it in—?!
"Where did he go?" Sunwoo heard from down one open corridor, which made him crawl up onto the ceiling and remain there until he got to his desired location. It hadn't been Sangyeon, but all of his friends had been chasing after him just the same.
He couldn't trust anyone.
Steeling his resolve, Sunwoo leapt off the ceiling and played around with the controls, dancing around the control panel and trying desperately not to panic. He couldn't have possibly run for an infinite amount of time; he only needed to buy himself time to use the one other option he had to get back home.
"Fuck fuck fuck," he muttered to himself when the monitor began playing a very loud song out of the speakers. But it was too late, even as his hand slammed down on the button to mute it.
"SOMEBODY'S PLAYING MY BALLROOM EXTRAVAGANZA." Yep, definitely a Chanhee playlist.
Sunwoo felt the sweat trickle down his spine—but then he swiped his way through controls and somehow managed to hit gold.
"Sequence initializing," announced the machine, and Sunwoo could have screamed with delight and relief.
That was, if he wasn't currently being hunted.
Still shrouded in his invisibility, Sunwoo swung himself onto the steel platform poised at the center of the massive chamber past the control board. A metal arm emerged from the side of the board, an amber orange light scanning over his form.
Chanhee and Changmin barreled into the room, going straight for the control board having yet seen Sunwoo on the platform.
"What's happening?" Changmin cried out as he gripped the edge of the railing, his eyes whipping between the platform and the computer.
Chanhee's two arms and mechanical spider limbs worked furiously to override the sequence. "I don't know!" He grunted. "It's not listening to me!"
"DNA match found. Go Home sequence, commencing."
Sunwoo's physical appearance materialized on the platform just as the machine arm began crafting a crystalline-like webbing around him from the ground up. When both Changmin and Chanhee saw him there, Sunwoo's arm raised, fingers poised over his web shooter trigger.
"Don't stop me," he said, forcing power into his voice. He was trying hard to not let his knees shake right now.
His friends gaped up at him. "Sunwoo, you can't—"
"WHAT'RE YOU DOING? STOP HIM!" And just like that, Sangyeon and company rushed into the chamber like a stampede of buffalo, the former of which going straight for the platform Sunwoo was on.
55% completion.
The crystal had just finished encasing Sunwoo in its cocoon, and Sunwoo yelled as Sangyeon slammed against the outside.
He flinched back. "Just let me go home! I want to go home!" He cried out, hugging his hands to his chest.
Sangyeon beat at the outside with his fist, at first, doing nothing to the crystal—but when it began to crack, Sunwoo's heart dropped clean into the pit of his stomach. "You know why you can't," the man grunted, rearing his fist back to land another solid CRACK to the cocoon, "I have to save the multiverse, and you're in my goddamn way."
75% completion.
"Just leave me alone!" Sunwoo shot back, then backed up against the opposite side of the capsule as Sangyeon's arm cracked through.
90% completion.
He cursed, feet scrambling against the platform as he tried to stay out of Sangyeon's reach.
"You're gonna regret—"
Sunwoo didn't catch the end of Sangyeon's sentence, though he could probably guess what it was. He felt the familiar, yet somehow alien, suction of the vacuum portal. One second, Sangyeon was breaking his fist against the crystal cocoon, and the next, Sunwoo was gone.
Sunwoo emerged in New York to a glorious late afternoon and fell straight out of that saturated, blue sky. He swore colorfully as he just managed to shoot his webs up at the nearest building and swing himself to safety. He landed on the edge of a rooftop, but he couldn't find the Air Jordan billboard he'd been at earlier.
But he noted Time Square just a few blocks down from him, and a few buildings he recognized from central New York City.
"Get to Yn," he muttered to himself, breath heaving as his heart palpitated in his chest. He determined the direction he had to go in, then began making the trek across the city.
His first priority was to find you, to warn you. He didn't know what or how the canon event would play out, but he desperately needed to make sure you and your dad were okay. You had to be okay—
Tears stung at the corners of his eyes as he narrowly missed another screaming bus, turning the corner to your apartment. The sun was sinking into the horizon now, casting an eerie, blood orange tint across the skyline.
He could barely get his thoughts in order: you, your dad, dead, alone, alone, alone.
As he neared your apartment, he could recognize your silhouette in the window as you hunched over your desk, no doubt studying hard as usual. A smile crept onto his face, a giddiness only you caused, sending a jolt of energy down his spine. He was relieved to be in your arms again soon, maybe even in time for dinner—
Wait.
He paused, web latching onto the fire escape above yours like usual, you never had sheer curtains. They were always shutters—
An internal alarm in his head screamed.
A blur of red and blue crashed into Sunwoo's body, sensing him and the body that tackled him, straight to the alley below. For a split second, he panicked at the thought of Sangyeon already finding him so soon, but it didn't take long for him to realize that… this wasn't Sangyeon.
He and his blue and red assailant wrestled on the floor of the alley, throwing punches that missed, ripping webbing from their eyes—Sunwoo swore as the other guy kneed him in the stomach and pinned his wrists and knees down.
"Who the fuck are you?"
Sunwoo's eyes widened as he came face to face with himself, but red and blue in all the weird places. There were silverish lines criss crossing across his suit mimicking the lines of a spider's web. This guy didn't sound like him though… He glared. "Who are you?"
With a surge of courage, he whipped his forehead upward and straight into his opponent's, sending him cursing and scrambling away.
Sunwoo wasn't in much better shape either, but though his forehead throbbed, he forced himself to his feet.
He and this… alternate Spiderman stood across from each other, walking in a tantalizingly slow circle, assessing the other. It felt awfully familiar, this experience; maybe he'd seen it in a meme somewhere.
"I'm Spiderman," Red and Blue drawled out slowly, carefully. His head cocked to the side. "Who are you?"
Sunwoo froze. "I'm Spiderman."
Red and Blue Spiderman stopped short. The white eyes of his mask narrowed. "Who sent you? Osborne? Doc Ock?"
Sunwoo made a face. "Who?" What was a Doc Ock...
"And what the hell do you want with Y—I-I mean, that… uh, that random girl in the apartment?" Red and Blue scratched the back of his head awkwardly as he stammered out a cover-up.
"Nice one," Sunwoo deadpanned. Then, as the information marinated in his head and the cogs in his brain began to turn, a realization dawned on him… and it filled him with pure terror.
Red and Blue must have sensed Sunwoo's dread. "What? Got nothing to say now? How about I—"
"What Earth is this?" Sunwoo blurted, head swiveling to and fro to find some kind of indication that he hadn't just royally screwed up. He shot a web up to the top of the nearest apartment building and swung himself up.
Red and Blue blinked. "Huh?" He swiftly followed after him. "Dude, dunno what rock you crawled out from under, but there's only one Earth in this solar system. You learn that shit in first grade." When he landed on the rooftop, he trailed after Sunwoo, who was busy soaking the skyline around him with a new pair of eyes.
Everything looked relatively the same.
It all smelled the same.
"—as always, this is your daily reminder to keep your eyes peeled for the Spider Menace!—" Sunwoo tracked that awfully annoying voice broadcasting from an electronic billboard more than a few blocks to the west. Featured on the screen was an older man with salt and pepper hair, and a mustache shaped like a broom. His face looked like one of those that were trapped in a perpetual state of irritation.
He made a face. "Who the fuck…"
Red and Blue made a guttural sound of disgust. "J. Jonah Jameson. My absolute best bud."
Sunwoo's head turned toward him. "People don't like you here?"
A snort. "I wish. Tough crowd, I guess."
Sunwoo pursed his lips into a small frown, but nodded. He could relate to that. The authorities and public had mixed views of him, especially at the start of his career. Even if he aimed to save people every time, he couldn't exactly pay for all of the damages done to buildings and structures and… well, people.
"You're not from here, are you?" Red and Blue said after a moment.
The dread, the panic, the fear, was beginning to creep into his nerves again. Sunwoo cracked his knuckles, trying to wrack his brain for next moves. Anything, anything. "Yeah," was all he could voice. Reality was a quicksand he was sinking into, deeper and deeper.
"I'm guessing that doesn't mean you're from LA, does it?"
Sunwoo laughed, but it was a sad sound. "I wish. No, it's more like… a different universe."
"So... you have your own Yn in that universe?"
Sunwoo swallowed. "Yeah."
His colleague gave a small nod, unable to find anything to say to soothe Sunwoo's nerves. There was so much trembling in his voice, his fingers, his knees…
From out of his periphery, Sunwoo spotted a hand extended out to him. "Well, since it seems we're both spider people—I'm Eric."
Sunwoo glanced from the hand offered and the red and blue mask, eyes locked on him expectantly. He clasped Eric's hand. "Sunwoo."
With a firm shake, Eric said, "Well Sunwoo, how about we find a way to get you home, huh?"
He hadn't even realized tears had dampened the fabric of his mask until he sniffled. Sunwoo released a shaky breath, eyes wandering back to the skyline that had looked so close to his, but was now a complete foreign entity. He had less than three days to get back home to you with seemingly no way back at all.
a/n: honestly unsure of a sequel lol but it would be cool to explore eric's spidey universe
tbz m.list
permanent taglist: @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @ethereal-engene @hyunjaespresent-deobi @justalildumpling @hongyangi @pxppxrmint @nerdypastacalzonespy @miusgirl @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @winterchimez @sodafy @fluorescentloves @tinkerbell460 @kflixnet @gyulfriend
#kflixnet#deoboyznet#the boyz x reader#kim sunwoo x reader#sunwoo x reader#the boyz oneshots#the boyz drabble#the boyz scenario#the boyz imagines#kim sunwoo oneshots#kim sunwoo drabbles#kim sunwoo scenarios#kim sunwoo imagines#sunwoo imagines#sunwoo drabbles#sunwoo scenarios#sunwoo oneshots#the boyz fanfic#the boyz marvel au
379 notes
·
View notes
Text
dancing in my backseat ✲ l. donghyuck
pairing. film student! donghyuck x film student! fem! reader
starring. uchinaga aeri
genre. college au, acquaintances to lovers. fluff, comedy, suggestive
warnings. mentions of alcohol and weed, swearing, sexual innuendos
word count. 24k (24.047)
a/n. please dont hate me for the fact that this does not have any expected smut in it i tried and it felt too awkward i just COULDN'T. also this fic doesn't fit the image of it i had in my head at all but i actually kind of prefer this version over the prev idea i had anyway <;3
playlist. marvelous - wallows / crash my car - coin / test drive - ariana grande / streets - doja cat / no manners - superm / feather - sabrina carpenter / AEAO - dynamicduo / wet tongue - thomas headon / car crash - eaj / delicious - the boyz / but i like you - boynextdoor
there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the number of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in league of legends, and lastly, their cars— or— where you would never fuck a guy without a driver's licence.
✲ PART 3 OF THE SIMPLIFY ROMANCE SERIES ✲
If anyone asked you about your relationship with Lee Donghyuck, you’d scoff at them and simply state that the resident gemini was your moral enemy. Was that true? No. No, of course it wasn’t– there was nothing this man has done in his life to get on your bad side, and you truly don’t feel any hatred towards him, but at the end of the day, it’s always easier to say this than to explain the exact feelings you have towards the male without sounding at least a bit overly-dramatic.
See, you don’t hate Lee Donghyuck; you don’t think he’s your enemy either– you just find him absolutely, excruciatingly annoying.
And it’s not his personality, no– although you do admit that the way he carries himself and has such high mind about himself is quite alarming– the way your toes curl and the hair on your body stands up, all alert in sheer ick and disgust, has nothing to do with his ego and everything to do with your experience with the man.
The first time you find Lee Donghyuck intensely annoying is when you get a text one day (having acquired his phone number from one of the class group chats, since the two of you major in the same program), at 9 in the morning, approximately 15 minutes before you have to leave your apartment to get to your fist class of the day. The man picked the wrong time to bother you, since it was Monday, of all days– the beginning of the week always manages to rile you up just because it exists in the first place– and you could give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it wasn’t his fault at all and you woke up grumpy already, but the events that happened after made you so deeply disturbed and annoyed to your core that there truly wasn’t any other word left in your vocabulary to describe Lee Donghyuck than the adjective already mentioned – annoying.
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi im in a crisis
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u pls throw some toilet paper
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – we ran out and my roommate already left for class
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – pleaaaaase
Staring at the texts appearing on your phone screen in a hurry, you stop in your tracks and furrow your brows at the contact name in confusion. The truth is, you haven’t spoken to Lee Donghyuck that many times– you just know that he’s friends with your friend Lee Yangyang from high school and you two meet occasionally at the said friend’s gatherings. Plus, you had a discussion or two about the beauty of Quentin Tarantino movies when you met at orientation in freshman year, and that's also when you learned that he’s your neighbor; in fact, the window to his flat's bathroom and his very own bedroom face yours. But that’s about as far as it goes when it comes to your closeness. You’re not familiar enough with him to text each other or to think of each other in a time of need, so to have his first texts to you be about him being out of toilet paper is a thing to really dwell on to fully understand the extent of the bad impression this man had on you.
you – what the fuck
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – just open the window and throw me some
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – i am good at catching
you – im in a hurry rn. gotta get to class
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – SO DO I why else do u think id be up this early
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – so PLEASE throw me the damn toilet paper so im not late today
Shaking your head in disbelief at the conversation you’re currently having, too confused and tired to deal with it so early in the morning, you walk up to your room and look out of the window. Right opposite of you, not being further than 10 meters, if you’re being absolutely exact, is Lee Donghyuck’s head popping out from the bottom rim of his bathroom window, seemingly still sitting on the toilet. The look in his eyes is desperate as he clasps his hands together and mouths “Please!” at you, his face forming into a truly humiliating scowl that makes you wonder if he's truly done with what he'd been doing on the toilet only a few minutes prior.
Sighing, you turn on your feet and escape your room– not noticing the absolutely disturbed and mortified face Donghyuck’s pulling behind your back, thinking you abandoned him and took off for class– and you truly can’t believe yourself when you walk into your own bathroom and take the half-used roll of toilet paper off the stand, murmuring a silent “Fucking hell” under your nose as you walk back to your bedroom and open up your window wide. Donghyuck’s eyes light up now, as if he was a kid under a Christmas tree about to receive a gift from Santa.
“If it falls to the street, I’m not getting it!” you yell after the boy, seeing as he eagerly nods and ushers you with a wave of his hands.
“Just throw it and I’ll be sure to catch it!” he nods, waiting for you to start your career in the new twist on baseball– a sport you’d call a toilet roll throw against the street. His eyes seem focused, knowing this is his only opportunity at wiping his ass this morning (why neither of you thought of suggesting to use the shower instead, you don't know to this day– perhaps it was too early in the morning for such complex strategies), when you surprisingly do your best at aiming for his window– thank god you both live on the same floor– and throw the roll across the alleyway, the paper unwinding only slightly before it lands on the floor of Lee Donghyuck’s pearl white bathroom.
“Thank you so much, you are my savior!” he yells, his head disappearing from the window, leaving you alone in your room to watch the commotion. When nothing happens for a while, you only shake your head in disbelief once again, deciding your job here is over and you can finally take off for your dreaded lecture.
“I’ll get going!” you scream into the void, scratching the back of your neck, aimlessly.
“Mhm! See you later!”
Nodding to yourself, you sigh, closing the window and doing a double take as you’re about to leave your flat for class, hopefully still on time. In disbelief, feeling the second-hand embarrassment seeping to your bones, you put on your shoes at the entrance and swear to yourself that you’re never gonna answer any of Lee Donghyuck’s texts ever again.
The previous scene already established that you’re no stranger to second hand embarrassment. I’m sure all of you have experienced it before– seeing someone desperately flirt with your friend, knowing that they’re not interested… Watching a drama and being absolutely grossed out with the script, wondering how the actors got convinced to take on the role… Hearing someone say an absurd answer in class… There are many, for sure, and the list could just keep going. You saw it with your own eyes as well, when your friend Choi Beomgyu tried hard to impress a girl at the skate park and managed to fall off his skateboard mid-trick, tearing his jeans in the crotch area in the process. Or when your roommate Aeri got tipsy at the club and who she thought was a very fine gentleman to flirt with was actually her ex boyfriend. The list goes on and on.
What about first hand embarrassment, though? You’re sure you experienced it before as well, but if anyone asked you, you’d tell them you don’t remember any embarrassing stories. If it’s because you just don’t want anyone knowing about the shame in your bones or if you really hated those experiences so much you chose to bury them and extract them out of your memory, you won’t tell. You just won’t let the shame haunt you for any longer than it has to, that’s for sure.
So when you walk home from the hairdresser one afternoon and you’re met with your roommate Aeri looking at you with lips pressed together, yet the corners tugging upwards in what you assume (and fully know) is her trying to hold back an amused laugh, you admit that your suspicions were indeed correct when you saw yourself in the mirror at the salon and you’re going to have to live through another embarrassing moment. One that will take days and weeks to outlive as well, since your hair doesn’t grow back overnight– and when you look into the mirror again, you’re terrified.
“Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not laughing, it’s just… you look… well, you know, it’s just…” she mumbles, before she finally breaks into a loud laugh, standing behind you and examining the state of your hair in the mirror of your entrance hall with you, hands coming up to play with your strands and hold them up and down, brushing your bangs out of your face and ruffling the top– trying everything possible to find a single good hairdo with the haircut you have going on right now. “Oh babygirl… what did the do to your beautiful hair…” she mourns, the tone of her voice still amused, but now also kind of considerate.
“I told her I only wanted a trim,” you say, voice weak in what you realize is you holding back your tears and suppressing a mental breakdown, “how the fuck am I supposed to show my face to the world tomorrow?”
Your roommate sighs at you, spinning you around so you no longer can see the disaster on your head, a pout forming on her face as she lightly shoves you deeper into the apartment. “At a second glance, it’s really not that bad, you know–”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” you cut her off, annoyed at her soft eyes.
“I don’t?” she looks at you, shocked irises hardening when she realizes you no longer need her sympathetic words. “Okay, thank god. Man, she fucked you uuup, leave a bad review like, right now. I’d cry myself to sleep if I got a haircut like that–”
“I take it back, I liked your lies better,” you roll your eyes at her, walking over to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water to calm down your racing heart. The mental breakdown is still right around the corner and you realize you have to do everything in your power to stop it, because you already have a fucked up haircut– you can’t afford to show up to class tomorrow with puffy eyes and stress-induced pimples as well. Gulping down the cold liquid, you decide to hop into the shower (and avoid looking in the mirror at all costs, which is kind of difficult, since there's three of them just on your way to the bathroom).
Meeting the encouraging eyes of your roommate once you come out of the shower, hair tied up in a towel so you don't have to think about it any longer, Aeri's words reach your ears in the living room. “Come on, I’m sure we can manage to do something with this tomorrow morning,” she smiles, “at least you have a pretty face. You can pull off everything!”
And the truth is, even though Aeri is nice, she’s not always right. You’re met with the fact the next morning as you watch your reflection in the mirror before you both leave for your shared Film theory class, standing next to each other defeated; one breathtakingly beautiful and one looking like the main character from Chicken little. You'd be fine with it if it was only you who was aware of your disastrous image, you would be able to deal with the shame and insecurity silently– but that's not what happens as you’re only reminded by the fact that other people, sadly, do perceive you, against your biggest wishes, throughout the whole day.
You’re reminded by the fact that your haircut is fucked up when Ji Changmin, the guy you share an Animation class with, sees you in the corridor and does the yikes face at you and his friend Sunwoo hides his face from you as they turn the corner. You’re reminded by the fact again when you see Jisu, the ever-so-sweet girl that majors in Finance, the girl that’s friends with everyone in this school, look at you with a considerate look, patting your shoulder when she passes you by before you enter your Film theory classroom.
And most importantly, you’re reminded by the fact when you finally sit down– at the very back of the classroom, which is both valid and understandable, considering your current state– and you’re met with a thud of a backpack to your left, a figure sitting down on the usually vacant spot. Clenching your jaw and looking up to see its owner, mentally preparing yourself for the teasing that’s about to come, you meet eyes with a tall, sleek man, shirt tucked into his black jeans and a sigh of relief escaping his throat as he sits down on the uncomfortable chair. Lee Donghyuck waves at you in greeting when he notices you there, running his hand through his neatly styled hair.
“Hi there,” he breathes out, “can’t believe I made it on time. My alarm didn’t go off and my roommate couldn’t be arsed to wake me, even though our morning lectures start at the same time, so I had to run and my usual seat is taken already… hope you don’t mind me sitting here– woah.”
And here it is again– the feeling of absolute humiliation as the man scans you up and down, eyes bearing into yours with an unreadable look on his face. Is this how he felt when he texted you to throw toilet paper through his bathroom window? Or was he immune to the shame?
“Did you get a new haircut?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you in question.
“Shut the fuck up,” you sigh, already annoyed with his antics– because frankly, you know what will come next.
“That’s an interesting answer to a yes or no question,” he muses, chuckling to himself, “I’ll take it as a yes, though, but it seems like you’re not satisfied with the new look…”
“Woah. You should work with the FBI or something,” you mumble, averting your gaze from him and looking straight in front of you, praying for the class to start fast so you don’t have to interact with your neighbor any longer and listen to him make fun of you for your new look.
“Why? It doesn’t look bad at all,” he says, the tone of his voice fakely considerate, making you want to punch him in the gut, “It’s interesting. I like it. It shows off your eyes and your forehead more, since your bangs are way shorter now,” he says, putting emphasis on the fact that your bangs truly are half their original length– which wasn't your original plan at all– only riling you up more.
“Only thing left to add is that I have a massive forehead, isn’t it?” you ironically smile at him, and the male takes your word for it as his eyes focus on the exposed part of your skin, furrowed eyebrows and all, as he examines your features.
“Not massive, but it’s a little… like, I wouldn’t say–”
“Just don’t say anything, okay?” you sigh, cutting him off and folding your arms at your chest in a poor attempt at defending yourself.
“Geez, why are you so snappy? I was complimenting you, y'know,” he says, and if you were more stupid, you’d even believe him– the tone of his voice still sounds genuine, but that’s just the way your neighbor likes to deceive people, and you know that; you’ve seen it happen multiple times before. “It adds character.”
The comment makes you roll your eyes, all words taken off your tongue– you simply think there’s no use defending your atrocious haircut now (not that you tried defending it before, even you aren't that oblivious). Your gaze is focused anywhere but at your seatmate, counting down the minutes until the class starts and you're taken out of your misery for at least an hour and a half. Your Film theory professor is almost never late and now is the only day you’re content and happy about the fact, because it means you won’t have to listen to Lee Donghyuck for more than approximately 2 more minutes until the small, hunched over frame of your professor strides through the door.
Still, you feel his burning gaze to the side of your face, and despite your best intentions, you snap your head towards him and bite at the annoying gemini.
“Take a picture, it will last longer,” you spit, scoffing at the male.
“Can I really?” he asks, and before you have a chance to disagree, his phone is shoved into your point of view and the shutter comes off, making you lounge after the man in a poor attempt at taking his phone away and deleting the first picture of your new hair ever taken. (Well, except for the one you took crying last night, with a peace sign and your tongue darted to the side against your mirror. You don’t need any more traces of your current haircut than that one.)
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – hi neigbor whatchu doin
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – u have a car right
Squinting at the next text conversation with Lee Donghyuck, the first one since he asked you for toilet paper 3 weeks ago, you feel nothing more than pure confusion at the strange questions the man asks you in the middle of the night. It’s Friday evening and your roommate went out with a guy named Eric she met four weeks ago in the gym, and even though you were slightly concerned when she texted you to say she was staying over at his house for the first time, you only showed her support as you went to lay down with no other plans for your evening. Falling asleep to your midnight playlist playing in the background (thanking God for the smart feature that makes the music shut off after 30 minutes), it's completely understandable and predictable that the noise of an incoming text annoys you when you hear it only a few minutes after 2 in the morning. The fact that it’s your neighbor texting you, out of all people, only makes the fury in you bigger as you click your tongue and shoot him a quick text back.
you – what do u want
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – neighbor!!!!!
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – you do have a car
Staring at the text that just appeared on your screen, you sigh and decide to spill the truth, preparing for whatever request that’s about to come after you admit to the fact that you do, indeed, have a perfectly functioning vehicle parked behind the building.
you – yes
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – perfect
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – do u hav sm time on ur hands
you – im sleeping
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – veryfunny youre replying rn tho
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – come on itsa simple request
Breaking your back just to decipher the words through the amount of typos Lee Donghyuck’s making, your annoyance only grows bigger. Has he always been a bad texter? You don’t remember him struggling as much when he was sitting on the toilet three weeks ago– his texts were absolutely clear and with 0 mistakes back then. Maybe he was in a more desperate situation back then, after all…
you – what do u want hyuck its late
lee donghyuck (film theory class) – can u drive me home
And here it goes– in the back of your mind, you somehow knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons why someone would ask if you owned a car, and judging by the fact that it was now 2 in the morning on a Friday night, your neighbor wasn’t trying to sell you a new vehicle just in case you didn't have one yourself. Getting a drive home would be the only logical request from someone asking if you owned a car– it would only be more logical if the person asking you was your friend, and not an acquaintance at best.
Staring at the screen of your phone, counting down from 10 to not snap at the ridiculous request, you watch as the device lights up with an incoming call. You don’t even have to look at the caller ID to know who’s calling, and despite your best assumptions, you pick up with no more thought given, waiting for the person on the other side of the line to speak first.
“Y/N,” he says, voice breathless.
“Lee Donghyuck.”
“Can you please drive me home?” he asks, tone of voice lazy and tired, something about the dragging of his words hinting you that there’s more to the request than you’re grasping right now.
“Are you drunk?” you ask, right off the bat, to clear out any confusion.
There’s a short silence on the other side of the line, one that hints that you’re completely right in your assumptions, but you still want to hear it from the guilty man himself. “Maybe a little,” he admits, snickering, “I was over at Yangyang’s and then he kicked me out and I… my legs hurt too much to walk home.”
Sighing loudly at the man’s antics, you shake your head in disbelief and clear your throat. “I don’t see how that’s my problem?”
“Oh, come oonnn,” he drags out, “it’s not that far.”
“Yeah, so I don’t see how you can’t walk back, then?” you mutter, rolling your eyes at the demanding tone in your neighbor’s voice. If it was anyone else, maybe, just maybe, you’d be on your way already. You never decline your friend’s requests for favors, since you know they’d do the same if you asked, but you don’t really see how Lee Donghyuck, a man you’re not even close to in the first place, could repay the favor. What on Earth was he thinking in the first place when he called you? Were you his last option? Is he out of his mind?
“Because my legs hurt, if you were paying attention, you’d know that I told you before–”
“I don’t really care,” you mutter, “this is not my problem, I’m ending the call now, goodbye!”
“Y/N!”
The tone of his voice is desperate. Laced in agony, even. Still, you don’t care as you cut off the line and close your laptop that's been your source of music during the late night, settling deeper into your sheets. This is not your circus, not your monkeys, and frankly, you don’t really care what happens to Lee Donghyuck on his way home from Yangyang’s house, no matter how drunk or high he is right now. The man has done nothing but annoy you in your short, 23 year old life, and you’re not going to change out of your pajamas just to drive a few miles to get your dumb neighbor back home.
You’re not going to lose your beauty sleep for this. No, not at all.
Still, your eyes only close when you see the light in Lee Donghyuck’s room go on and the shadow of his slouched figure safely hits his bedsheets, another smaller frame coming to close his door and shut the blinds off, turning the light back off.
The next Monday, you find yourself sitting in your Film theory class alongside your roommate Aeri that’s currently snoozing in the middle of the lecture. You can’t really blame her, since she only got home from her romantic retreat (read as: hanging out at Eric Sohn’s house the whole weekend and having sex possibly on every surface of his little flat downtown) on Sunday evening, and you can only imagine that she didn’t have much sleep during her stay there.
And the class was boring, to add another reason for your roommate's nap. It’s not like you weren’t interested in the theory behind every movie, like the topic itself wasn’t interesting– you quite enjoyed wondering about all the special details in each movie that complete the story and make the atmosphere pop just in the right way– but the professor currently standing at the very bottom of the auditorium is old enough to be there when the Lumiére brothers showed the first ever movie to the public back in the 19th century, and his age only matches with the monotonous style of his teaching. Which means that his voice is mellow, but close enough to a lullaby, and with the amount of issues you have when paying attention in general, the lack of focus caused by this only feeds your distraction during the lectures, resulting in you not really being the top of the class in this specific subject.
So when you hear the professor mutter something under his nose about a project in pairs you’ll have to submit until the end of the semester, you feel your heart drop down to your stomach, all alert. Suddenly, you’re 100% present, brain racking about all the possible solutions and ways you could go around this just so you could pass the subject this year.
Because frankly speaking, at the moment, you’re failing the class. And if you don’t manage to get a good grade on this final project, you’re going to have to retake the class next year– and trust me, another year listening to the monotonous lectures won’t make you pass easier, since you can only imagine the boredom will only grow once you’re in this class the second year in a row and you'd already heard all of the lectures once before.
“What was that?” Aeri mumbles under her nose when she notices you staring at the front of the classroom with wide eyes, an expression close to one you'd wear after seeing a ghost (with the age of your professor, you might as well have). She often tells you you look like a deer in the headlights when you get shocked or stressed-out, and you can’t say that comment doesn’t make you insecure. Still, you can’t quite control it when you sigh and turn to your roommate with a distressed look on your face.
“We have a final assignment to do,” you mumble, “in pairs.”
“Amazing, we’re doing it together, then,” she yawns, stretching a little before slumping over the desk again, ready for round two of her nap.
“Fuck no,” you quickly dart, looking at her with furrowed brows.
“What do you mean, no?”
Sighing, watching as she opens her eyes and looks at you with an offended expression on her face, you shake your head in disapproval and lower your voice, careful to explain yourself. “Look, girl, I love you, you know that,” you assure, “but we are both failing this fucking class. And I can’t afford to do badly just because the both of us suck, because I am not retaking this atrocious class ever again, so I suggest that the both of us find someone with good grades to leech from and get this over with.”
Aeri squints at you, seemingly lost in thought– more so contemplating your master plan– before she leans back in her chair and cautiously looks around the room. “You have a point there.”
“See? It’s nothing personal,” you chuckle, seeing as your roommate nods to herself.
“Okay, I’ll flutter my eyelashes at Shotaro,” she turns to you, eyes bright with the newly made plan, “we’re both Japanese, so he’s not legally allowed to turn me down.”
Rolling your eyes at her comment, you only nod in approval to her idea. Shotaro was one of the best in this class, so you can imagine that working with him would satisfy your professor enough to let Aeri pass the class this year. The only thing left to do was find the culprit to your own plan– you needed to team up with someone good enough to at least make you get a D on your final. And since half of the class was just as good as you in this particular subject, there weren’t many candidates left.
Eyes scanning the crowd (thank god you chose to sit in the back again), your gaze lands on a particular man sitting a few rows under you, a little bit to your right. Helplessly searching through the flood of your classmates currently occupying the auditorium, you sigh to yourself in realization, already dreading what’s about to come when the class is dismissed and you hurriedly walk over to the only person that can help you now, before he escapes the university grounds and you’re going to have to shamefully text him or ring his doorbell this afternoon.
“Donghyuck! Wait!” you yell after him, legs taking you closer to the man in question, now standing still in the middle of the moving crowd, watching you in curiosity.
“What’s up, neighbor?” he asks with a lazy smile, the tug at his lips only making your blood boil and your insides tighten into a bundle of nerves. Everything about him was ticking you off, the slouch in his shoulders making you want to stand behind him and fix his bad posture and slap the back of his head so you no longer have to look at him standing like a hermit crab, the glint in his eyes making you want to curl your fingers into a fist and slam your hand against a wall. The seemingly strong emotions of annoyance run through your veins whenever you interact with Lee Donghyuck, it seems, but the senile voice of your professor keeps repeating itself somewhere in the back of your head throughout the whole interaction, and so you choose to take a deep breath in and out before you smile at the man and prepare your best speech– you can't afford to be picky with this any longer.
“Who are you doing the project with?” you ask innocently at first, trying to get some info out of him.
He offers you a suspicious look, but replies nonetheless. “I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, “I was thinking of chasing down Haknyeon, but you stopped me in my tracks…” he shakes his head at you, teasing.
“Hmm, I see,” you mumble, more for the effect than for anything else, “well, what if we do it together?”
There aren’t many instances in which you could catch Lee Donghyuck completely silent. Now is one of them, though, as he watches you with wide, surprised eyes, furrowed brows and his plump lips slightly agape, breathing in a few times before he shakes his head as if to reset the system, snickering to himself. “Us two?”
“Yeah, why not?” you peep, shrugging.
“Look, respectfully,” Donghyuck starts, and you brace yourself for the impact, “your grades in this class aren’t as good as mine, and even though I’d love to do it with you, I don’t wanna be the one doing all the work and–”
“I’ll help!” you snap, maybe too urgently for your own liking. “I promise. I’ll do everything in my power, I just really need your help with this,” you plea, looking at him with what you pray are your best puppy eyes, seeing as the man in front of you chuckles at the expression and averts his gaze from you for a heartbeat, signaling that you were most likely unsuccessful at the attempt.
“Sorry, Y/N,” he shrugs, shaking his head at you, even going as far as taking one step away from you, “see, if you hadn't declined my call on Friday, maybe I’d take this offer as a way to repay the favor, but you know…”
“I threw you toilet paper before, Donghyuck, you can’t be shitting me right now–” you feel your blood boil at the note, the ever so familiar annoyance seeping back into your bones.
“That was nothing–”
“You seemed pretty desperate back then.”
“That was the past, sweetheart,” he chuckles, taking another step away from you, somehow overthrowing your annoyance with pure, embarrassing desperation as you chase after him and stop him with a swift motion of your hand, catching him by his wrist. He stares at you with a shiteating grin on his face, one he always uses to get a reaction from you, and somehow, you know this is all a game for him, a stupid tug of war, but you can’t help it– you are in a desperate situation. So if you need to say please to the man and humiliate yourself in front of him just to pass this class, then so be it.
“Please, Hyuck? Just this once, I swear I’ll make it up to you. Literally, say anything, I’m gonna do it, I just really need to pass this class,” you mumble, a pout forming at your lips as you clasp your hands together– much like he did back when you two communicated through the window of his bathroom– and you swear you can see the gears in his brain turning when he calculates his next move and tells you his answer.
“Anything?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” you nod, hoping that Lee Donghyuck still has some dignity in him and wouldn’t ask for anything that would make you uncomfortable. He’s annoying, sure, but he’s not a dick, after all.
“Okay, then,” he nods, tone of voice airy, underlined with laughter, “be my personal driver for the entirety of the project, then. I’ll do it if you drive me places,” he grins, and that’s when your composure falls.
“Absolutely not.”
“Well then, say goodbye to the grade!”
Putting your arm around the passenger’s seat headrest, twisting your whole body as you look back and reverse the car into the parking spot in front of the mall, you see the figure next to you still in its place, eyes alert and staring at you. “If you’re so terrified of me driving, why did you want me to do this in the first place?” you sigh, finally turning back to the front and turning the engine off once you're standing straight between the lines, satisfied with your job.
“That’s- that’s not it,” he clears his throat and gulps nervously, shaking his head. “Anyways, let’s go,” Donghyuck says, slapping his thighs like parents do when it’s time to leave a family gathering, grinning at you widely as he waits for you to get out of the vehicle.
“What do you mean, let’s go? I drove you here, I can go now,” you glare, not satisfied with the way your Wednesday afternoon was going. You only agreed to the deal on Monday, and Donghyuck already made you drive him home after class twice and also asked you to drive him to the school this morning. Having him constantly leeching around you and making you drive him places wasn’t exactly fun, since he always asked weird questions and made fun of your bored face at every red light, so you really, desperately, needed him to be gone already so you could head home and scream into your pillow to unwind the nerves.
“Well, how am I supposed to get back when I’m done shopping?” he innocently asks, pouting at you. “My hands are gonna be full with bags and you’re gonna have to come pick me up, because that’s the deal, and I can’t afford to wait with my hands full until you get back here, so you might as well stay and come with me, so it’s convenient.”
“Nothing about this is convenient for me,” you mumble, but comply with his orders nonetheless. “Why don’t you get a car? Or take a bus back?”
“Buses smell and I don’t have a license,” he mutters, “besides, I have you now to be my personal taxi driver, so I don't need a car,” he shrugs, walking alongside you to the mall.
His confession startles you, makes you halt in your step as the boy looks at you with defeated eyes, already knowing what’s next. This scenario has happened to him multiple times before– he’s best friends with Huang Renjun and Liu Yangyang, he’s in for a teasing at every single action of his that goes just slightly wrong– but to hear it from you will surely feel more humbling to the man. Closing his eyes as if to not see the grin overtaking your features, he sighs. “What?”
“You don’t have a license?” you tease, snickering. “For real?”
“No.”
“Why? You failed the test?” you ask again, catching up to the male and falling in with his quick pace, enjoying the fact that you now have the upper hand on him for once.
“Never really tried getting it in the first place,” he mumbles, shrugging.
“Why?”
“I dunno,” he shamefully ducks his head, “it seems scary,” he adds, making you snort out at his confession.
“Fucking hell dude,” you laugh out now, swatting his shoulder in a teasing manner, “that’s so embarrassing, it’s not even really that difficult in the first place–”
“I don’t know what’s more embarrassing,” he cuts you off, tone of voice laced with frustration as he realizes you are a bit too amused at him admitting to one of his fears, “is it me not having a license or you driving me around because you're failing a class… Hm?” he asks, locking eyes with you, lips pressed shut into a straight line, and suddenly, your composures exchange. He won. Again.
“Anyways, let’s get going!” he smiles, dismissing the previous discussion as he tugs you by your hand into one of the stores right in the middle of the mall.
You should’ve already predicted that shopping with Lee Donghyuck would be exhausting. Not only did he demand to know your opinion on every single thing he tried on, he also wanted you to pick up something for him to try– as if driving him here wasn’t too much work for you as it was. All you wanted to do was walk back to your car and get away from him as soon as possible, but with the way he teasingly poked your sides every time you weren’t paying attention and turned to your phone to entertain yourself with some mindless scrolling on social media, you weren’t able to escape even mentally, no matter how hard you tried.
“Why don’t you try something on?”
“I’m not in the mood,” you glare, walking out of the last store in the whole entire mall, the sky behind the glass doors already dark from how late it’s gotten. You’re pretty sure it’s gonna close soon, but checking the time on your phone, you’re relieved to learn that you still have enough time to get boba from the stand at the entrance of the mall. You deserve a little treat after involuntarily hanging out with Lee Donghyuck the whole day, after all. Call it your girl dinner, or something.
“Taro milk tea with coconut jelly, please,” you smile at the tired barista behind the counter, noticing the way Donghyuck stands next to you and looks at the menu. You expect him to order a drink for himself as well, and surely, he doesn’t disappoint as he smiles at the girl, the tone of his voice sweet and considerate– so far away from the way he speaks to you on a daily basis– as he asks for his own drink.
“Will you pay together or separately?” she asks.
“Separate–”
“Together,” your companion cuts you off, grinning at you when you glare at the man, sighing at his antics.
“Come on, I already drive you everywhere, do you think gas is cheap? Now you want me to pay for your boba as well?” you whine, reaching for your wallet as you frown at the male, his confused eyes bearing into yours when he slightly nudges you from his way, offering the girl behind the counter his card instead. The action shuts you up, making the gears in your brain turn faster as you watch him in the action, and it doesn't fully register yet, but you're left feeling a bit taken aback and sheepish when the cashier hands him the receipt.
“I was gonna buy it for you as a thank you for the nice day, but now you’re making me look like I felt pressured to,” he sighs, shaking his head at your little tantrum. His actions still don’t register in your brain, though, his words resonating all the way through your ears to your Wernicke’s area and right back, hanging everywhere in the air of the mall, shock making your body still. Then, it hits you.
“Ah,” you gasp, feeling the tips of your ears burning with shame at the fact that you managed to ruin his nice gesture, your eyes scanning the space in a poor attempt to not look at him or the cashier still watching your exchange.
“Get your drink and let’s go,” he nudges you instead, rolling his eyes for good measure as he walks out of the mall, nearing your car in the parking lot.
“Look at this, look! Isn’t it funny?” Donghyuck hovers over you with his phone in his hand, giggling to himself as he tries to make you look at the screen. You don’t really know why he’s trying to get a laugh out of you, honestly, but he’s currently doing everything but that as you’re sat in his living room, legs plopped up onto the sofa and crossed in front of you, waiting patiently– but also kind of boiling on the inside out of frustration– for him to pay attention to you.
“Hyuck, I didn’t come here to watch Tiktoks with you,” you say, eyes sharp, tone of your voice cutting like razors– efficiently making him look up from his screen and meet your gaze with an amused grin, “I’m not really sure if you forgot, but I came to discuss the project,” you mutter, sighing.
“Jeez,” you see him roll his eyes, the energy around him still not shifting as he maintains his casual and unfocused composure, but you know that on the inside, he's enjoying the view– your angry face seems to be his most favorite thing to stare at recently, “didn’t know you lack a sense of humor.”
“What?” you look at him, confused, quite frankly, before you shake your head in disbelief at the comment. “You know what, just put the phone away for 5 seconds and finally talk to me about the project, smart boy, or else I’m not wasting my time here any longer and I’m leaving.”
“You’re acting as if you’re the one putting in work,” he mumbles, snickering.
“I will be putting in work when you tell me what to do!”
At your sentence, Donghyuck finally puts his phone back at the coffee table and shifts a little in his seat, facing you and scratching the back of his head, seemingly lost in thought. You let him, convinced that if you speak up and cut off his train of thought, the poor boy wouldn’t be able to get back to it again, waiting for him to be done with his brain weaving so you can pick up on them and ride them out, seeming at least decently smart (or not completely stupid). When he finally speaks up, he licks his lips and shrugs.
“We just gotta pick a theme and do our best portraying it with no words in a 3 minute clip, right?” he asks you in reassurance, as if you were the most reliable source of information when it comes to this class and its assignments.
“Yeah,” still, you agree.
“Well, then we just gotta pick a theme and the rest will be easy,” he nods to himself, reaching back for his phone, which you swiftly take from his hold and hide behind your body.
“Hey–”
“We’re not done talking about this! I’m not letting you use your phone, because you’re just gonna scroll on Tiktok instead of thinking about this,” you squint at him, twisting and turning in your seat as his hands try to sneak around your sitting figure and take the device out of your grasp.
He seems determined as his arm lands on your elbow, a victorious grin smoothly swiped off his face when you sit on his phone and flash him a wide grin. “I’ll give it back when we have the theme down!”
“That’s an invasion of my privacy,” Donghyuck mumbles, and you roll your eyes at him, pointing a finger to his shoulder.
“That’s not what an invasion of privacy means, but whatever floats your boat…” you mumble, watching him sit back in his seat, defeated as his shoulders slouch and his gaze is glued to the wall in front of him. You’re not sure what’s so interesting about the white paint, but at least there’s not the noise of his phone filling your ears right now– you’re more than okay with silence, since you don't get to hear it often when Donghyuck is present. You would like it better if he spoke up and talked to you about the assignment, but if you had to choose between him being annoying and him being quiet, you think everyone knows which one of the two you’d prefer.
“So?” you test the waters after a while, seeing if your project partner decides to finally comply with your request and discuss the important matters.
“So? Do you got any ideas?” he teases, watching you with challenging eyes.
Clearing your throat, caught off guard at the request– you assumed he’d tell you exactly what to do and you just have to do it and follow his lead, essentially not putting in much effort and still being sure of passing the class– but it seems like Lee Donghyuck won’t let you off that easily. You should've expected it. Being difficult is his favorite hobby, after all.
“Well, you’re the smart one here, so…” you shrug, trying the method that always works on men– and that is praising them.
“So you’re saying you’re stupid?”
“If it works in my favor during this conversation, then sure,” you nod, smiling at him in irony. Hyuck gives you a defeated sigh, shaking his head at you before he clicks his tongue at you and finally gives in.
“Okay, so, I was thinking we should pick a theme that fits the current social struggles, but after hearing this, I don't think feminism is our best choice,” he mutters.
“Like you’d know anything about feminism–”
“What do you have me for?” Donghyuck sharply glares at you, clicking his tongue at you in pure offense. “I am a fan of Little women, I'll have you know, of course I’m a feminist.”
“Well, you must be a fake fan, since everything about this deal is just me majorly girlbossing,” you point out, trying really hard to prove your point.
“Are you even being serious right now–”
“Anyways,” you cut him off, “what were you thinking?”
The man sighs and shakes his head at you in disbelief, but still speaks up again nonetheless. “I was thinking, well, maybe we could pick something that would really play into the old man’s feelings, you know, so we get him all sentimental and moved to tears…” he starts off, tone of voice now completely serious, making him sound kind of smart– startling you in the process, “that leaves us with a few possible options. We could do something with the 18 hundreds, or… fishing? I heard he’s into fishing. Or we could do something more abstract and shoot something about youth, since he’s very old and this could get him nostalgic. Or!” he suddenly perks up in his seat, eyes wide and a disturbing grin sitting at his lips, “we could include nudity! He’s a man, after all… wanna shoot porn? We don’t need words for porn.”
In absolute disbelief, you stare at the man with eyes wide open, blinking a few times and taking a few seconds to yourself to process the monologue you just listened to. You knew he was absolutely insufferable, but you didn’t know he was this much of a dumb freak.
Taking your silence for disgust, Donghyuck just nods to himself and purses his lips.
“Youth it is, then… I mean, nudity would be difficult to present in front of the class for sure–” he admits, pouting.
“Yeah, like that’s the only problem with that idea…”
Afternoon classes aren’t your favorite ones of the week and although you absolutely despise waking up early and having to commute to university while you’re still half-asleep and absolutely irritated, there’s nothing that infuriates you more than knowing you could be done with the day already, sitting at home and watching your favorite TV show, only if it wasn’t for the responsibility of having to stay at campus and sit through another hour and a half lecture on a Thursday afternoon, way too late for your brain to be working in those hours.
This is one of the only classes you don’t share with your roommate Aeri– which makes the lecture that more excruciating, since you don’t have anyone with you that you could gossip with about your classmates or friends from back home when it gets too boring and you can't bear sitting in silence and forcing yourself to focus anymore– but there is one person from your circle that you do share this class with, and yes, you already guessed it; it’s Lee Donghyuck.
You don’t know when you’ve gotten so close to the point where he sits in the vacant seat right next to you almost immediately, followed by his friend Ju Haknyeon who you’ve never even spoken to before, but he still does so nonetheless, every Thursday, just so he could annoy you with his only half-funny remarks to every other sentence that comes out of your Animation class professor’s mouth.
“What are you doing this weekend?” you hear Haknyeon ask the devil sitting on your left, and trust me, you don’t really like listening to other people’s conversations (that’s a lie, you live for gossip. You just wish you knew the least amount of information about Lee Donghyuck as possible, because sometimes you learn fun facts you wish never joined your brain), but you can’t really help it this time, can you? Haknyeon doesn’t know what whispering is, and you’re convinced Donghyuck would love everyone to hear him talk and give him attention anyway.
��Not really sure,” Donghyuck replies, “Renjun bailed on me, said he’s going to the shelter with his girlfriend again, so I was thinking, right? You know, I’d looove to go on a road trip, and it’s crazy, you know, because–”
The words coming out of his mouth instantly make you alert, snapping your head around to make eye contact with the man that’s already staring at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, knowing you’re listening to them talk. “Lee Donghyuck, I am not going on a road trip with you–”
“See, Y/N here is my personal driver for the semester, so she can’t really say no–” Donghyuck continues, enjoying the way your face distorts into a pained scowl, your hand coming up into your hair to tug at the roots in frustration.
“If you make me do this, I’m going to open your door while we’re going 120km/h on a crowded highway and throw you out so you die under the wheels of someone else and I don't face the consequences,” you propose, shaking your head in disbelief, your voice shushed due to you still not wanting to be heard by the whole classroom, but still loud enough for both of the boys to chuckle.
“Come on, I bet you’d have fun. I have the best playlists for road trips, you know,” Hyuck teases, poking you with the tip of his pen, to which you click your tongue and move a bit further away from the male.
“The last time I drove you somewhere that was more than a 10 minute drive, you had Céline Dion on loop, so I don’t know just how believable this claim is.”
“That’s disrespectful to the legend Céline Dion is, dear Y/N, and I’d take it back before her ghost comes to haunt you at night.”
“Is she even dead in the first place?” you squint at him, at disbelief of his words.
“She’s not,” Haknyeon chimes in from the side, shaking his head at the both of you before he chuckles, “you two argue like a married couple.”
“I would rather die than to marry him–”
“See, Hak, Y/N just hasn’t realized she’s in love with me yet,” Hyuck adds, clicking his tongue at his seatmate, “but she’s gonna realize it somewhere during our 5 hour long road trip, I’m sure. Just wait, it’s gonna happen soon.”
The class gets dismissed somewhere in the middle of the argument, and as you’re gathering your things to go, you hear the two of them talk among themselves, not really including you in their conversation anymore (which you’re glad for, frankly).
“Are you going home after class?” Haknyeon asks.
“No,” Donghyuck shakes his head in disapproval, and there it is– the shit-eating grin appears on his face when he initiates eye contact with you and snickers, “Y/N and I are actually getting fried chicken at this place downtown, since I got coupons– well, Renjun got coupons for free chicken from his uncle last week, but he doesn’t like chicken that much, so I stole them from him–”
“Huh?” you scowl at him, wondering if you heard right. “I’m not getting chicken with you.”
“Of course you are,” Hyuck announces, “the coupons expire tomorrow, so we gotta do it today. I know you’re not busy, come on.”
“I’d rather choke than to spend any more time with you than I already have today, Donghyuck. Go with Haknyeon,” you say, pointing to the clueless senior staring at the both of you in wonder.
“Yeah, go with me, man,” he shakes his head, “I like chicken.”
“Unfortunately, this offer only applies to people that have a working car that could drive me there, so in case you wanna get your shiny BMW fixed in the next 24 hours, I can save the coupons for you,” Hyuck chimes, smiling innocently at his friend.
“What are you even talking about?” you mutter, tone of voice pained.
“Look, do you wanna get out of the road trip on Saturday, or not?” he stares at you, his gaze flaming as you sigh more for him to hear than to get out your frustration– you learned long ago that it does nothing to calm you down, worse, it makes you even more infuriated.
“Woah, Donghyuck!” you exclaim, fake excitement written all over your features. “Chicken actually sounds so good right now!”
That’s how you appear in one of the fried chicken places downtown, your car parked in their tiny parking lot, with Donghyuck excitedly skipping towards the restaurant with the bunch of coupons in his hands. You don’t really know why he insists on spending time with you– he could get a bus here or drive with one of his other friends that own a car, and you’re certain you are not the only one on his list– so the whole interaction makes you slightly confused. Still, you enjoy the free meal– like any other broke college student would– and when Donghyuck eats, his mouth is usually shut, so you don’t find that many negatives in this whole thing, after all.
“What are you thinking of doing for the project, by the way?” you ask, wiping your greasy fingers on one of the napkins Hyuck had offered to you just a few seconds prior after noticing your dismay at the state of your hands. You don’t like it when you get dirty with food, but you’d rather not eat at all than to eat fried chicken with a fork, so you guess this is the price you have to pay.
“You keep talking about the project,” he shakes his head, chuckling, “don’t worry about it. I have it covered.”
“What do you mean, you have it covered? This is supposed to be teamwork. Just because I drive you around, it doesn’t mean I won’t put my hand in– you’ll complain too much if I don’t,” you mutter after you swallow, rolling your eyes at him. He keeps saying the same thing each time you ask him– you’re suspecting that he has zero idea at all, and he’s just bluffing to make you feel more comfortable. Hell, you might even fail while working with Donghyuck and your whole plan is going to be ruined, for all you know.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, grinning, “we got the theme, so half the work is already done. We’ll just have to take one day to shoot some scenes on a field or something, and then I can edit it and put some sad music over it, and we’re sold. Trust me, I am a straight A student, I know what I'm doing.”
“You are not a straight A student, Lee Donghyuck,” you glare at him, not believing a single word that's just came out of his mouth.
“Okay well,” he shrugs, taking a sip of his coca-cola that he got for free with the order, “maybe I’m not. But you can count on me with this, hon.”
Sighing to yourself, you shake your head at him. “Don’t ever call me that ever again.”
“Hyuck,” you call for the male, nestling a little in your seat and scratching the back of your neck in frustration.
“Hm?”
“You said we were going to work on the project today, am I correct?” you ask, watching as the male walks up to you from the kitchen area of the room, a bowl full of popcorn in his hand as he plops on the sofa next to you (on the only area that allows you to lay down comfortably and still face the TV, also known as the spot you’ve already laid on, making the two of you almost uncomfortably close in the small space), a bottle of coke situated under his right shoulder.
“Correct,” he nods, reaching for the TV remote he spent approximately 15 minutes searching for in between the cushions of the sofa when you arrived, screaming at his poor roommate for losing it again as the shorter boy just grimaced at you and escaped the flat to hang out with someone you heard him call RJ! y/n.
Humming to yourself, you nod. “Okay, then… why the living fuck are we watching Hunger games right now?” you ask, tone of voice laced in frustration.
Donghyuck doesn’t reply to you for a while as he fumbles with the TV remote (and frankly, you don’t really know why he’s so focused, it doesn’t take much to just press play), but when he looks back at you and sees your gaze impatiently glued to his forehead, he shrugs. “We gotta find some inspiration first, you know,” he innocently states, “Hunger games is a movie about youth if I’ve ever seen one.”
“We’ve both already seen Hunger games, Hyuck,” you whine, but take a hand-full of popcorn out of the bowl that’s currently sitting in his lap.
“How do you know that I have seen it already?”
“You just said so, you dumb fuck,” you mutter as you roll your eyes, watching the opening credits start. You can do nothing else than settle deeper into the sofa and watch the painfully long movie with your annoying neighbor now, and you despise the fact.
Well, you could do something else. There are many things, to be exact– you could either protest so much that Donghyuck finally gives in and turns the movie off, focusing his efforts into actually working on your project. If that doesn’t work, you can fight him for the remote, but you can’t really know if that wouldn’t make him pettily give you the silent treatment, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d like to be doing right now. Or you could just give up– seeing that you’re not gonna get much work done today– and stand up and go home. It’s not like you live that far away anyways…
But still, you stay and watch the movie with him. You’ve seen it at least three times already, having watched it recently with Aeri when the movie had its second wave of fame on Tiktok, so you’re pretty sure that if you tried hard enough, you’d be able to recite the script alongside the actors, word-for-word, 100% correct and exact, right on time. You stay and watch Hunger games with Lee Donghyuck– why exactly, you still don’t know– and you find yourself enjoying the experience. It’s not as boring when you hear your neighbor annoyingly comment on each and every little thing that happens in the movie, his nasal voice cracking jokes and jumping into the conversations as if he was a part of the cinematic universe. Somewhere along the way, you join in with him, laughing and giggling when your roleplay gets too silly, and before you know it, the movie is about to end and you’re finally going to be free to work on the project with him.
Donghyuck gets unusually quiet towards the last part of the movie. You turn your head to him, ready to crack jokes at the tears you’re expecting to see in his eyes because of the emotional outro– Katnis and Peeta’s berry scene got you the first and the second time you watched the movie, the third time not so much, since Aeri kept pausing the movie for pee breaks, ruining the full effect– only to witness the man’s head falling to your shoulder the exact second you try to lock your gaze with him; your neighbor having passed out somewhere in the middle of the movie. You foolishly jump just the slightest bit at the contact, opening your mouth to say something to him that could wake him up, your instincts telling you to move away from the already uncomfortable closeness of your bodies and give yourself more space.
But as your lips part and you’re about to protest, you notice his own lips apart in a small pout, his cheeks appearing softer now that one of them is smashed against your shoulder, his long eyelashes fanning over the bones of his cheeks. The blue hue of the TV paints his cheeks rosier in the dim light, making you notice the moles on his face for the first time– leading you to count them and mentally create constellations between them as your gaze focuses from all the different places of his face to another. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you shut your mouth and awkwardly make yourself look away from your annoying neighbor, cracking the knuckles of your hands that have been resting in your lap; but when the credits of the movie roll and you have nowhere else to focus your gaze on, you find yourself scanning the man up and down again, orbs catching every detail of his suddenly so pure being.
He is wearing gray sweatpants, the fabric hanging low on his waist, a plain black tee adorning his upper figure. He doesn’t often look this casual when he comes to class, opting to wear jeans or pants more formal, so you foolishly admire the cozy fit he has going on, not quite used to seeing Donghyuck looking this homey. His clasped hands resting in his lap catch your attention next, the soft skin adorning his slender fingers looking way too inviting right now as you subconsciously want to glaze your fingertips against the surface of his palm, just to see if your suspicions are right and his skin is just as gentle as it seems to be to the eye, and you almost do it– for scientific reasons, of course– before you catch yourself and almost mentally slap yourself for being so foolish.
What the hell is going on with you right now? You should wake him up now– the movie is already over, there’s no use in you staying over any longer if he’s asleep and won’t work on the project with you anymore– but you find yourself freezing each time your eyes focus on the creature sleeping against your shoulder, so soft and comfortable it makes your insides squeeze in warmth. It’s a strange sensation, and even a stranger one to feel for a person that annoys you the most in this world, and you can't bring yourself to do anything else than to overthink the simple fact.
He can sleep for a few more minutes. You don’t mind. He must be tired, you think– he deserves 10 more minutes, maybe even 15– you won’t disturb him. The silence is strangely comforting, after all.
He can sleep for a few more minutes, you think– but the exact moment those thoughts roam around your head again, the front door to Donghyuck’s apartment opens and his roommate stands still in the doorframe of his living room, gazing at you with suspicion in his gaze. You quickly jump away from your project partner when eye contact with Huang Renjun is made, feeling the tips of your ears heating up in shame as you scatter to your feet and scramble for your things. You feel like you were just caught red-handed, doing something you shouldn’t have been doing, and you can’t bear the thought any longer. You need to get out.
A dissatisfied noise leaves Hyuck’s mouth as he wakes up to the impact of your movement, squinted eyes watching you as Renjun just laughs at your antics, shaking his head as if to tell you that he knows something you don’t. You don’t wanna hear it.
“Where are you going?” Donghyuck asks, voice laced with sleep.
“Home,” you snap, running your hand through your hair as you move through the door frame that separates the living room from their entrance hall. “We can’t work on the project if you’re asleep, so I might as well just go and not waste my time here any longer!” you offer him, making sure to save your face by putting just enough pretended frustration into the comment as you put on your shoes and don't look back at him– however inviting the mental image of him seems in your brain– before you shut the door after yourself and leave.
dongfuck – drive me to mcdonalds
you – well hello to you too
you – no.
dongfuck – >:(
dongfuck – please
you – its 2am dude
dongfuck – your point..?
Sighing, scrambling for your things as quietly as possible to not wake up your sleep deprived flatmate, you get dressed in comfortable sweatpants, throwing a hoodie on to shield yourself from the chilly air. The walk down the stairs doesn’t take you more than a few minutes before you’re standing in the parking lot of your apartment complex, already seeing Donghyuck’s figure leaning on the side of your car, almost looking like he owns it– he does act like it lately, to be fair.
“I knew you’d come,” he snickers as you roll your eyes at him, pressing the button on your car key to unlock the doors, watching as the man swiftly opens the driver’s side for you and then jogs towards the passenger’s side to get in, an excited stride in his step.
“I’m only here because I haven’t eaten dinner and chicken nuggets sound absolutely amazing right now,” you mutter, “don’t get too ahead of yourself. None of this is for you,” you grin, fastening your seatbelt and adjusting the rearview mirror just the slightest before turning on the engine and driving off the parking lot.
Donghyuck only shakes his head at you, a bright grin playing with his features. “Of course,” he hums, “wouldn’t want me to think that you actually want to hang out for once.”
“Of course,” you nod, “because that would be a lie. My goal is chicken nuggets, nothing else. And if I manage to get them out of you for free, that’s even better.”
“Who said I’m paying?”
“The gas station clerk did when I last went to get gas, actually! He told me I’m using twice as much gas lately because I’m driving a certain dumbass around, and I’m paying for all of the gas myself, can you believe it?” you shake your head, teasing him as you turn right on the main road, already seeing the McDonald’s in the distance.
“That’s a strange way to talk to a customer,” Donghyuck squints his eyes at you, watching as you slow down when getting into the food chain’s parking lot, ready to drive up to the drive-through window and order your late night snacks.
“At least he’s looking out for me,” you shrug, teasing the male. “I better order a hefty meal, since you’re paying and all…” you mumble, looking over the poster to your left, tapping your chin, trying to look lost in thought.
Hearing the man next to you scoff– already satisfied with how frustrated you’ve managed to make him– you pretend to look over the most expensive parts of the menu. “I’m starting to regret my decision,” Donghyuck adds, but the tone in his voice is light.
After a few more minutes of picking out your menu, you both order your meals and wait for them at the window. It doesn’t take long, since you’re the only ones in the whole place, and before you know it, Donghyuck is pressing his card into your palm, nudging you to pay for both of your meals. The gesture should be expected– you pretty much plastered him into doing this with how much you teased and complained– but it still shocks you when he does it with no other annoyed comments, watching as you offer it to the cashier and smile at him in thanks, taking the bags of food and driving off into the very back of the whole parking lot, turning the engine off and settling into the dark.
You tug your feet up to your seat, sitting crossed-legged in the small space as you face your companion, watching as he offers you the bag of food and digs into his own fries as well, scanning you from the corner of his eye. Now is the time you finally get to admire his attire for the first time the whole night– you never knew you had a thing for guys in sweatpants and oversized jackets, but the way your breathing almost catches in your throat at the sight of Donghyuck dressed so cozily again should be enough of a warning for you to the future. Forcefully taking your eyes off the male next to you, because you’d rather not think about the way you find yourself eyeing him lately, you eat your chicken nuggets– the ones you’ve dreamed of the whole night– and listen to the sound of your neighbor chewing on his burger.
Feeling his eyes on you, you glare at him. “What are you staring at?”
“No take a picture, it will last longer this time?”
“I learned my lesson from the last time,” you laugh, reminded of one of the first interactions you had with the male. “I hope you deleted the pictures, by the way.”
“No, I stare at them every night before I go to sleep,” he says, “so I’ll dream of you,” he sing-songs, laughing at the way your face distorts in discomfort at his words.
“Ah, so annoying,” you roll your eyes at him, but can’t battle the way your heart jumps a little at the sound of a laugh escaping his throat. Your eyes automatically trace his movements, noticing the way the far standing lamp post illuminates his face in just the right way, casting orange shadows over his features, making his eyes glimmer when they catch yours. Clearing your throat after being caught staring at him, you avert your gaze and finish the last of your fries, noticing the male done with his meal as well.
“Now what?” he asks.
“We go home, what else?” you laugh, shaking your head at his question.
“But I don’t wanna go home yet,” he whines, and you already know what’s coming– pursuing, weird ideas, absurd arguments just to make you stay longer. And you’re immune to them on most days, but it’s too late in the night, so you have to cut yourself some slack. So what if you don’t want to come back yet either? It’s not a crime to want to spend some time with Lee Donghyuck.
“What a shame,” still, you tease, waiting for him to come up with a bright idea that you could use as an excuse to stay out longer.
“Oh come on,” Donghyuck mutters, “you always ruin the fun. Teach me how to drive, what do you say?”
Shocked at his preposition, you turn to him again, wide eyes and mouth agape. “What? Absolutely not.”
“Why? The parking lot’s empty. I can’t possibly be that bad that I crash your car into nothing. Come on!” he pleads, going even as far as pouting at you– not really knowing that the expression has you shamefully stare at his lips for a split second, insides heating up– and realistically, you should have warning signs blinking at you from everywhere in your brain, an alarm going off to tell you that this is not a good idea at all, but you’re too stunned to come up with another plan for the rest of your evening, and, well, you may be getting a little weak for the annoying gemini. He's right, though– what could possibly go wrong?
So you only sigh in response, opening the door and getting out of your seat, watching as Donghyuck excitedly mirrors your motions and jogs to the driver’s seat, ready to possibly ruin your evening and your car at the same time. When you’re back safe inside of the car, you quickly fasten your seatbelt, a sign of your sense of self preservation still working well, watching Donghyuck move your seat further back so he can comfortably reach the pedals. His focused face is in your full view as he adjusts all the mirrors possible, and only then is when you notice him chewing on the inside of his cheek– in either nerves or concentration, you can’t really tell right now– and the sight makes you halt him in his motions before he manages to start the engine.
“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, watching as he turns to you with wide eyes, shaking his head in disagreement.
“No,” he peeps, laughing to himself, “Yangyang declined me the last time I asked.”
“Yeah, because he has a working brain,” you whisper under your breath, still in disbelief of what you allowed to happen, “so… can you reach the pedals?”
“I can.”
“And you see the whole back window in this mirror, right?” you ask, pointing to the rearview mirror, watching as Donghyuck nods.
“Positive.”
“Great. So… start the engine now, I guess?” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you see him nod and reach for the keys, turning them. The car instantly comes alive right in front of him all while Hyuck seems absolutely clueless, looking at you with big, adorable eyes, and you take it as your cue to instruct him on his next moves.
“Now press the clutch– the far left pedal– and move the gear stick into the first gear,” you say, watching as the boy slowly does as you say, reaching for the device and moving it to the desired place. “Good. Now, keep pressing the clutch and slowly start pressing the accelerator– the far right pedal– while also slowly letting go of the clutch until you get to the point where the car starts moving on itself. That’s when you don’t let go of the clutch, but keep it at that same exact spot, and put a bit more acceleration until the wheels spin like, once or twice. Only then can you keep your leg off the clutch.”
“You’re kinda hot when you tell me what to do,” Hyuck mumbles, but the flirting doesn’t quite come through when his face is focused at the road and his composure seems shaken, too stressed out to actually mean the words coming out of his mouth.
“Shut up and do what I said,” you snarl, seeing as the man nods and tries moving with the car. It takes him some time, but it seems that he is a natural– the car moves without the engine dying, and suddenly, you find yourself cheering him on. “Good! Good! You’re moving!”
“Oh. My. God.”
“Don’t panic!”
“I’m not panicking!” Hyuck hums, nodding to himself as he turns the wheel and makes a circle around the parking lot, grinning to himself with confidence. The car moves painfully slowly, and you, despite your best interest, find yourself enjoying the view– although you should probably be more worried about your own safety than you currently are. That's when you decide to challenge the male further.
“Okay, then we can shift into the second gear, it’s gonna go a little smoother,” you muse, seeing as the male nods.
His eyes stay focused on the road, though, so you take it as your cue to instruct him again. “Press on the clutch then, and move the gear stick straight down.”
“Mhm,” he hums, and presses on the clutch, but the struggle comes next as his hand flies all over the car, not quite used to the placement of the gear stick yet. Stressed, eyes glued to the road in front of him to not run into any possible obstacles in your way, he refuses to look away for even a second, and the whole sight makes your heart race in anxious agony as you reach for his hand and grip it, guiding him towards the stick and placing his palm on top of the device.
Your hold on his hand doesn’t loosen up as you guide his movements further and do it for him, just to make sure the stick really gets to its designated place and doesn't get stuck in neutral, which would make the engine die with the next press of the accelerator. His skin is soft under your touch, just like you imagined it to be, and you find yourself growing hotter the more your skin is in contact with his, the touch so innocent yet still sending you to overdrive.
“Now let go of the clutch,” you order, eyes glued to the side of Donghyuck’s head as he nods, listening to everything you say. The car now goes more smoothly and you watch him take another lap around the parking lot before you realize your hand is still gripping his on the gear stick, the information making you jump slightly in your place, clearing your throat in the awkward, tense atmosphere you managed to create for yourself.
“Okay,” you announce, “the trial is over, it’s time to press the brake– the middle pedal, if you haven't figured that out so far– and get out of my place,” you say, hoping the tone of your voice sounds as light as usual.
The car comes to a strong halt, since Hyuck doesn’t really know how fast the brakes react yet, and if you weren’t buckled in, it’s certain that you’d go flying in your seat and smash your head against the dashboard. Breathing out when the car stills, you finally feel yourself relax, having been alert this whole time, as you squeeze Donghyuck’s hand for the last time, amidst selfishly, before you let go of it and turn towards the door, opening it and thanking the chilly air of the night for slapping you to your face. You really needed that wake up call.
Do you really need to drive a fucking manual?
hyuck – can you drive me to yangyangs at 8
Staring at the text message on your phone, sighing to yourself at the weird discomfort in your stomach when it appears and registers in your brain, the sound catches attention of your roommate Aeri currently getting ready on the floor of your room, pressed almost uncomfortably close to the mirror. She should really wear the glasses she was prescribed.
“Donghyuck again?” she asks, staring at you through the mirror, a mischievous grin sitting on her face as she asks the crucial question.
“How’d you know?” you roll your eyes in irony, walking over to your closet and picking out your tonight’s outfit.
“Well,” she shrugs, “one, he’s like, the only person that ever texts you except for me, and two, you had that disgustingly doe eyed look on your face.”
“I so did not–”
“You so did,” she notes, putting another coat of mascara onto her long eyelashes.
“You know what? I regret telling you about this,” you mourn, scrambling for your things around your room and putting them into your bag, practically already ready to leave the apartment alongside your roommate slash best friend. When you came home last week after the McDonald’s run at 4 in the morning, you decided that sleep really wasn’t worth it anymore– as if you could fall asleep after the hotness in your whole body despite your window being wide open– and so you took a cold shower and decided to stay up in the living room, watching Netflix (more like having the show in the background as you tried hard to not have a mental breakdown at the newly found information about yourself). Aeri found you like that at 6 in the morning when she woke up to get a glass of water, and even though she was sleepy and groggy– which was probably why you decided to spill the beans so quickly– she interrogated you about the weird look on your face and it’s been a running joke between her and herself for the whole week.
“It’s really not my fault that you find our neighbor hot,” she notes, shrugging to herself.
“When did I say that? When did I say that!”
“Well, you said you came home all flushed and that you imagined making out with him when you dropped him off back home, so that’s basically the same thing.”
“I did not say I wanted to make out with him!” you defend yourself. You didn’t say it. You thought about it, that’s for sure, but your roommate really doesn’t have to know that. Unless she can read your thoughts, of course.
“Yeah, whatever. You and I both know it’s true.”
Sighing, deciding that you’re ending the conversation with your roommate as long as the topic is your annoying neighbor, you turn to your phone and finally reply to his text message.
you – can’t
He replies almost instantly, as if he was waiting at his phone for the last 15 minutes, and the predictableness of his message almost makes you chuckle.
hyuck – why
you – cuz im going
you – and i wanna drink
you – so i cant drive
hyuck – ok that changes things then
hyuck – my original mission was to get you to go there with me but this has to do i suppose
hyuck – see you there ;)
Yes, you admit that you reread the messages a little too many times for your own liking. Trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind his words, you swear your brain is running a thousand miles an hour, and realistically, this is the part where you reach for your girl best friend and ask her what exactly is happening in the chat with you and the guy you’re talking to, but after the endless teasing you’ve already heard from her side, you decide against it and just turn off your screen and put the phone into your bag with the rest of your necessities.
“If you mention something about this tonight in front of Donghyuck, I’m locking you out of the apartment.”
“Ay ay, captain!”
The journey to Liu Yangyang’s house isn’t long. He’s the only one that still lives with his parents, but you can’t really blame him– the house is huge, and they are hardly ever home, because they are always on business trips in Taiwan. Half the time, it’s like the guy owns the place, and he also acts like it too, since half of the parties you’re invited to in a year are taking place at his house.
When you get there, it seems that everyone was already there– at least the usual group, you suppose. You don’t know who else is invited, but when you arrive to Yangyang’s basement– the part of the house where he usually hosts the more chill, laid-back parties, with low music in the background, laughter resonating through the place and alcohol being passed around between people drinking straight out of the bottles– your eyes instantly zero on Donghyuck, dressed in a light bomber jacket and skin tight jeans, you decide that burning your throat with alcohol is the best thing you can do instead of audibly moaning at the sight.
Taking one of the opened bottles of Bacardi off the little camping table situated near the corner of the big room, you take a swig, not really caring about the people who have drank out of it before you– because the pandemic has taught you nothing, it seems– when you finally walk over to the group and say your greetings. Deciding that avoiding the object of your desire for the whole evening is the best plan how to survive without doing something you’re going to regret, you engage in conversation with pretty much everyone else, completely unaware of the way your neighbors eyes are burning a hole through the side of your skull, kind of offended that you haven’t come up to him first, since as far as he’s concerned, out of all the people present in the room, you spend the most time with him in the first place (with the exception of Aeri, of course, but you two live together, so it doesn't really count). In his opinion, you didn’t need to be talking to Na Jaemin right now– you’re not even friends with the man.
But still– drinking beer out of a bottle Lee Jeno passes you somewhere in the middle of the night before he disappears with his best friend to dance with them under the cigarette haze (pretty embarrassingly, you may add) – the only thing resonating through your brain is that you got this, you’re not gonna give him a single glance, you’re not gonna think about how attractive he looks in all black.
You guess that everything about the way this evening has been going is the prime example of every single college kid’s usual Friday. Sitting in a basement of Liu Yangyang’s house, your vision cloudy with a bit of alcohol and also the sweet, piney smoke of the joint that’s been passed around the room only a few minutes prior, music lowly plays in the background, adding a relaxed, yet exciting and bubbling atmosphere to it all– it’s the epitome of the experience you imagine before you go to college when you’re 15 and gazing longingly outside of your window, wondering if life when you’re older will be better and more fun.
And while you don’t necessarily think life is better now– you do have a shitton of assignments to do and stress eating up your insides– you do think it’s kind of fun. Everything is more bearable when you have a group of friends by your side, and while you wouldn’t call every single person in this room right now your closest friend– a friend for life, even– you’d say everything is better than being stuck in your house on a Friday evening, mourning the break up of One Direction one more time as you watch This is us again with spoonfuls of ice cream shoveled into your mouth, figure cuddled up under the blanket with your roommate by your side.
The fun only lasts until a round of Truth or dare takes place, though. You must admit that it’s the fundamental part of the whole hang out, and yes, it’s the thing you always see in the movies. It adds a bit of spice to it all and it’s twice as fun to play when you’re a little intoxicated, but still– you’d like to think you’re too old for the game now, even though your friends believe otherwise and never fail to bring it up again.
This time, it’s Jaemin who brings it up. You shoot daggers to his skull, annoyed eyes and all, but you don’t think he notices as he continues to excitingly sway his arms in the air when he repeats the submission over and over again, finally heard by his roommate Jeno that’s just come back from the weird dancing session with his best friend that he’s very obviously pining over, and grins at his roommate in agreement, starting the game.
“Not again,” you whine audibly, because frankly, if you wanted to survive the evening with no embarrassment and no weird thoughts about one of the party guests, you don’t think a game of Truth or dare is your best move. Your disgust makes your own roommate– that’s suddenly glued to your side, too tipsy to even walk (you heard her exclaim that her legs are too heavy to be used)– giggle, already familiar with your thoughts on the game. And frankly, that makes you even more terrified– because when Aeri is drunk, she talks even more than she does when she’s sober, and well, there’s no promising that all of the information you’ve ever shared with her will stay truly confidential when she’s under the influence.
“Don’t start again,” she says, shaking her head, “you always say you hate it, but you always end up playing it anyway.”
She’s right. It’s not like anyone is pressuring you, but you kind of feel like the situation calls for you to join in– because what else are you supposed to do, watch them? There’s no fun in watching if you’re not involved, and you’d feel like an intruder if you just watched them do all sorts of dares while not being in on the game.
“Yeah, because you’d all whine if I didn’t,” you say instead, taking a sip of your drink, letting the bitter taste of beer slide down your throat as she rolls her eyes at you, nudging you in your side with her elbow.
“Just say you end up having fun,” she snickers, “nobody would think that’s weird, you know.”
“Yeah, whatever you say,” you shush her and pet her hair, taking advantage of the fact that you’re very obviously less tipsy than her, as you turn to the middle of the circle and wait for the game to start.
Usually, a couple of rounds pass before your name is called. You enjoy the tension– it feels like you have time to prepare to do whatever task their hazed minds come up with or answer whatever question that’s been burning on their tongue, yet, it also feels like a buildup before the big thing– a strange sense of climax, if you will.
This time, it’s no different. A couple of minutes pass as you watch Yangyang lick the bottom of Jaemin’s foot– because Jeno always likes to come up with the nastiest, most worrying dares of them all– followed by the sight of Shotaro kissing the forehead of the most attractive guy in the circle (Renjun wasn’t happy with the wet peck left on his skin). The guys almost always pick a dare, and you think that’s an advantage, since before it’s your turn to finally participate in the game, they run out of ideas for dares that are possible to do in the weed-smelling basement of Liu Yangyang’s house and you can safely choose truth instead. It’s not like you’re not brave enough to choose dare– you did so many times before and never once backed away from the task, not even when you were dared to kiss the person on your right (that was the night you learned Kim Sunwoo wasn’t all that, because the drunken peck he pressed to your lips wasn’t all that appealing) – you just simply tried to pick the safest strategy for the game.
Another kissing dare could suggest that you kiss the person you find the most attractive in the room right now. Or they could ask you for a lap dance on one of the guys. The possibilities are endless, and even though choosing the truth isn’t that much safer, since their questions could vary all the way from ‘What’s the color of your underwear right now?’ to ‘What is your favorite sex position?’, you’re trying to comfort yourself with the fact that you could just lie. You know it’s kind of prohibited, and that it also defeats the whole purpose of the game, but still– you’re not planning on embarrassing yourself tonight, and you were always a pretty good liar when it came to words. Actions? Not that much.
Sinked deep in the stained light orange fabric of the sofa, eyes half-lidded, you await Jaemin’s question as you tell him you did indeed pick the truth. And you were right, there are no protests coming out of the boys’ mouths this time around, seemingly tired of coming up with original ideas for their dares.
“Come on, man, we don’t have the whole day,” Renjun nudges the boy into his ribs, annoyed with the lack of words from his friend.
“Actually, we do. I don’t see the issue-”
“Just ask something already!” Shotaro whines from his position on the floor, his back pressed against the side of the sofa.
“Fine,” the man straightens up in his position, as if struck by a newly found sense of clarity, the look on Na Jaemin’s face reeking of insanity, “I've got something.”
The room cautiously looks at the platinum-haired boy sitting on the floor, his back resting against an armchair in the corner of the room as he blinks a few times, seconds passing, yet there’s still nothing coming out of his mouth.
“Are you gonna say something, or will you continue to act all dramatic…?” Jeno snickers, making his roommate roll his eyes at the jab, finally breaking the silence.
You’d argue that he just forgot what he wanted to say– with how Jaemin gets when he’s drunk, it wouldn’t be half surprising– but it seems like his roommate knows him better than you do, because the man speaks up fast, and suddenly, you take back all your impatient thoughts that urged him to ask you something already, because the question takes you by surprise and leaves you in shock, staring wide eyed and speechless.
“If you had to have sex with anyone in this room, who would you choose?”
You no longer wish he took longer to ask you the question. No, you wish he would’ve sent it to you telepathically, so you could prepare your answer beforehand. You’d save yourself a lot of trouble– being met with the gaze of everyone, looking at you as they await your answer is truly not helping you with the difficult task of responding to the truth, when in reality, you don’t think you can manage to even say anything.
Because truthfully, if you were asked this question at any time prior to the weird situation you found yourself in with Donghyuck– who’s, just by the way, still present in the room, but more quiet that usual, which you shamefully notice and worry about on your insides, but don’t mention out loud– you’d think that you wouldn’t have sex with anyone in this room. It may be hard to believe– even though the men in this room aren’t the sexsymbols they often think they are– but that's the sheer reality.
But now? You feel like the truth is written all over your face, you feel like everyone can see right inside of your head and read the words straight out of your brain. It’s embarrassing. You feel ashamed.
Looking around the space, shiteating grins meeting all of their expressions, you shrug and finally get some words out, hoping they satisfy their needs for an answer.
“No one,” you say, praying you sound confident.
“Yeah, no-”
“Oh, come on-”
“That’s a lie-”
Multiple voices cut into your confession, all in disbelief. If this isn’t the proof of their impressively big egos, you don’t know what is. All of them now staring at you with furrowed eyebrows, not believing a single word that’s just came out of your mouth, you start to wonder about how to convince them that you are, indeed, telling the truth, even though you’re obviously aren’t, so you don’t have to take a shot of whatever liquid the host of the party has hidden in the closet of his basement as a punishment.
“I’m serious! I’ve never looked at any of you and thought, ‘yea, I’d let him get it’,” you shrug, taking a nervous sip of the beer in your hold again.
“Okay, but if you had to? Like, imagine someone is holding your mother captive and telling you they’re gonna kill her if you don’t have sex with anyone in this room. Who are you choosing?” Jeno squints at you, and you’re starting to believe that the man just wants you to pick him.
“I’d have sex with Aeri,” you muse, pointing a finger to her as she’s leeching to your right shoulder, snickering.
“That’s a cop out!”
“Look, man, I don’t find anyone here hot, okay?” you shake your head at the commotion, grinning to yourself to seem more believable. And with how they roll their eyes and sigh to themselves, you think it’s working. There’s a premature feeling of relief in your insides, thinking that you’ve done it, you haven’t exposed yourself, before you hear your roommate mumble from her slumber, making your heart drop deep down into your own fucking asshole.
“Not even Hyuck?”
Slowly spinning your head towards her, the tight smile on your face suggesting that you’re going to kill her in under approximately five seconds if she doesn’t take back what she said, you’re painfully aware of the fact that everyone’s staring at you now, grinning to themselves with a look that says they believe that Aeri knows something they don’t– she’s your best friend, after all– and you realize that you’re going to have a hard time getting out of this one.
You should’ve expected this the moment you saw her drink that much. Maybe you should’ve stayed home today. The information about Lee Donghyuck was still too fresh in her brain to not mention when she has some to drink– you understand, in a way. At least, you’re trying to understand.
“Fuck no,” you grunt out, furrowing your eyebrows in the best acting performance you’ve managed to put on since your theatre kid days. You don’t think you’re convincing anyone, though. You’re not even convinced.
“Was that my name I heard?”
And again, your heart drops at the familiar tone coming from the place straight opposite of you, the place that’s very obviously in your point of view, yet you’ve been successfully avoiding the whole evening to not seem as obvious to everyone that the very man has been occupying your every thought for the last week or two. You realize this is the first time he’s spoken to you this evening, if you’re not counting the text messages you exchanged before you got here, and something about the fact makes you shiver.
Meeting his eyes, because it’s the natural thing to do when someone speaks to you, you mentally curse and feel your heartbeat quickening at the grin sitting on his face. Eyes roaming his body– all against your will– you notice the comfortable way he’s sitting on the armchair in front of you, legs parted wide and his thighs on full display, hair a little messy and eyes glossed over and blown out, since he smoked just a few minutes prior to the game, making you realize just how painfully he resembles someone who just had a long make-out session; the thought automatically leading you to think of the fact that you’d like to have a make-out session with him right now, and wow, his thighs do look inviting to sit down on.
“You wish,” you spit instead, still wanting to save the situation. Averting your gaze from him to keep yourself sane, you choose to focus on the floor instead, heat rising to the tips of your ears.
“I mean, it seems more like you do,” he grins, the whole group snickering at the sudden quarrel in between the two of you. Your conversation suddenly reminds you of the ones you had with him before the two of you started properly talking, and something about the confident smirk on his face makes you remember just how annoying you’ve always found him whenever you encountered him at this very place. You’re back to square one for a minute, with your defensive remarks, similar to the way you used to quarrel with him before, and the familiarity engulfs you like a warm blanket.
“Your confidence amuses me,” you bite back, choosing to look at him as you say it to add more impact to your words; your decision seems to only worsen the things for you, though. The conversation admittedly sounds a little too much like flirting, and the way you notice him clutching the can of beer in his hand only makes you more flushed under his gaze.
“You don’t seem amused.”
“That’s because the idea of having sex with you makes me want to leave this room,” you grunt, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
“I’ll take you home if you’d like,” he winks at you. Alarm sound goes off in your mind, your hands clammy as you run them through your hair, and suddenly, you’re on fight or flight. And if you can’t escape the situation, you decide to choose the latter– throwing him the most jabbing remark you can think of at this moment, fighting to keep your dignity.
“On a bike, or something?” you snicker. “As if I’d let a guy without a licence fuck me. You know that’s below my standards, Hyuck.”
An amused gasp is heard in the room when this remark leaves your mouth. The main source of the noise is Liu Yangyang, the host himself, since he likes to laugh at times when it’s the least socially acceptable.
Now, you know that there are only a few things in which men value their social status; one of them being the amount of girls in their bed, the next one their rank in League of Legends, and lastly, their cars. And while Lee Donghyuck is known to be quite the player when it comes to the first thing in the list of social ranking between guys (or at least you’ve heard so from the girls in the locker room in the past years. Not like you were listening to their conversations whenever his name was mentioned… you just have very good hearing) and he was known to be the one that carries the team whenever any game on Yangyang’s PS5 is played in the dimly-lit basement on nights much like this one, there was something always setting him back in the neat ranking, and that something was the state of his car.
Why? You guessed it– he doesn’t have a car. Or a licence.
To be quite frank, by the expression on Donghyuck’s face– all wide eyes and mouth agape in shock– you hit him right when it hurts, the grin falling off his face when he takes a sip of the beer in his hand, seemingly to chase down the taste of being put in his place and to have something to do to not seem as awkward and embarrassed as he must be feeling right now.
You feel victorious, in a way– you managed to mask your very obvious sexual frustration caused by the man, while also managing to rile him up with your comment, which is definitely a first in your dynamic– adrenaline rushing through your blood as you look at him with expecting eyes, awaiting his response. The rest of the crowd laughs at your remark, only fueling the joy you feel when he suddenly averts his gaze from you, licking his lips for only a millisecond (yet it doesn’t get unnoticed by your eyes) before he snickers again, shrugging.
“Okay then,” he grunts, pressing the tip of his tongue to the inside of his cheek in annoyance, “you won.”
You know what? Once he admits to it, the feeling of victory quickly fades. Watching his frustrated face, eyebrows furrowed as he looks everywhere but at your face, suddenly, you choose to drown yourself in the rest of the beer in your bottle, relieved when you notice the game progressing without you.
You won, he says, but you don't feel like you did. Quite the opposite, actually. You feel a tad bit defeated.
You managed to lie to the crowd, but the very obvious pit in your stomach reminds you that you can’t lie to yourself– and now, bear with me as I say something cheesy, yet true– because even though Lee Donghyuck can’t drive, he’s still very successful at driving you crazy.
You feel like the universe is punishing you for every little, smallest thing you’ve ever done wrong in your life. You feel like whatever force is there that’s making this world go around, absolutely, completely, wholeheartedly hates, despises you, and won’t have mercy on you as you’re left dealing with the text message shining on your phone screen four days after the party, at 8 in the evening.
hyuck – drive me to a date
hyuck – please ig
Sighing, one, two, three times, you chew on the bottom of your lip as your eyes scan over the messages, and something about the very few words makes your stomach turn and twist in an emotion you’d describe as a weird mix of disgust and shock as you mentally try to come up with a reply. And it’s hard.
It’s difficult, because you hate it, you hate it, you hate it– the way Lee Donghyuck just managed to score himself a date only four days after your ever so growing sexual frustration has started to see the light of the day, you hate the way he’s asking you to drive him there– as if to show you that he still has it, that you’re wrong, and that even though he has no car and no license to boost in front of other girls, they still want him and you’re about to witness it as you drive him there.
And you hate it so much you start to think you’re going to chew on your own fist and throw a rock through your own window, but you strive hard not to show it. And is there a better way to seem unaffected in this situation than to comply with him? If you weren’t so jealous about the whole thing, you’d surely just make fun of him and do it, no questions asked– a friendly favor, or something. And so you do it. Like it’s nothing.
you – ok text me when you’re ready
After a few minutes, you end up sitting in your car, hands on the wheel ready to turn (and run into the nearest car out of pure rage, possibly), waiting for Lee Donghyuck to appear on the passenger’s seat, all dolled up and dumped in cologne, presumably– and that’s exactly what happens when the door swings open and your nose is filled with his usual smell but somehow amplified, and you catch a glimpse of his leather jacket and the shirt tucked into his black jeans. You don’t outright look at him– because you’re still trying really hard not to show all of your inner thoughts on your face– and so you only turn on the engine and hum at him, already making your way out of the parking lot.
“Where are you going, then?” you ask, tone of voice completely unbothered and not too stingy or tight. “And I’m just dropping you off this time, right? Because I won’t sit there and watch you have a date and wait to drop both of you back,” you say, playing with the car radio and trying to find a station that would both satisfy your need to tune out your thoughts with a good song and the need to do something with your fingers to seem occupied.
“Of course not,” he snickers, “wouldn’t do that to poor you. And just go the way I tell you. Now turn left at the end of the street.”
Sighing to yourself at his orders, you do your best at driving your neighbor to his date while trying to ignore just how ridiculous this whole situation is. You should’ve said no back when he first asked you to be his personal driver for the semester– failing Film theory class doesn’t seem like such a bad thing in your eyes now, when you look at the situation in retrospect.
“Can’t believe you have to be dropped off at your own date and you still pull bitches,” you shake your head in disbelief, hoping, praying you seem annoyed because of your duties and not because you’d much rather have him staying in so you could catch a glimpse of him in his window, crouched down in the blue light of his room (yes, he has neon lights in his room. Yes, you teased him about it countless of times before) as he plays League of Legends or stays up on a discord call with his friends, playing Minecraft.
“See? You’re missing out,” he chuckles, shrugging to himself.
“As if I’d ever go on a date with you,” you huff, moving to turn the volume of the radio higher so you don’t have to make small talk with him anymore, agitated, yet completely ignoring the fact that it was you who brought it up in the first place.
Hyuck moves his slender fingers along the knob of the radio and tunes the volume back down, and you’re eager to repeat your previous steps just to anger him and also so you don’t have to listen to his sneaky, egoistical remarks for any longer, when you hear him tell you the next directions and you realize that you still indeed need to hear Donghyuck’s voice, or else you’re not gonna be able to drop him off at his destination and drive away as fast as humanly possible.
The terrain around you starts to look more stranded. There are more trees than buildings in your sight, lampposts decreasing in amount as you drive further away from the city center, and only when you pass the sign that tells you that you just left the town you speak up again, now truly concerned.
“Where the fuck are you taking your date, man? To the middle of the woods?” you huff. “Is she meeting you there?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he laughs, shaking his head at your furrowed brows. Something about his casual composure makes your nerves tick off and goosebumps appear all over your body, as if you were sensing danger, when you sigh out heavily in frustration and turn to look at him for only a split second, eyes meeting with his.
“Or are you making me drive to another fucking state, you fucker? I don’t have that much gas right now, you dumb ass–”
“We’re almost there, don’t worry,” he rolls his eyes at you, pointing somewhere into the distance again. “Just turn right there and drive up the hill.”
“Up the fucking hill?” you repeat, concerned.
“I told you to not worry about it,” Hyuck hums, settling deeper into the car seat, letting you battle your own thoughts as you follow his orders and drive up the hill for him, praying no deer decides to jump onto the road and total your car right now.
“I worry about the girl that agreed to go on a date with you, Donghyuck,” you mutter, “I’ll tell you that, she clearly doesn’t have everything alright in the brain, because this is ridiculous.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he swats your worries away with a swing of his arm, pointing towards a place that extends out of the main road– if you can even call it that, since no cars are passing through the hill ever, much more in these hours of the day– and tells you that you can park the car there.
And you do as you’re told, despite your never-ending complaining– that’s the dynamic you have with Lee Donghyuck, it seems.
Stopping the car out of the main road, your car shielded from one side by a row of trees, you step on the break and look at the man to your right in question, the engine still running. “Is this it? Is this the place?”
“Yeah,” he nods, a grin slowly starting to play with his features. Something isn’t right– you feel it in your bones and see it in his eyes, but you can’t quite put your finger on it, still utterly confused and in the dark about everything. “Come on, get out of the car.”
He wastes no time in unbuckling his seatbelt and hopping out of the vehicle, his figure circling the car as he leans on the hood, turned away from you and seemingly waiting for you to follow his actions. Confused, figuring that you can’t do much more about the situation right now– where the fuck is his date? Why are we on the top of a hill? Will his date show up? – all swimming around your brain, you hop out and find his warm being, standing one step ahead of him and staring at him with stern, frustrated eyes.
“Look, isn’t it pretty?” he asks, pointing somewhere behind you. It takes everything in you to turn and gaze at the sight in front of you, your heart still weak and angrily beating against your ribcage, but you do as you’re ordered, eyes bearing into the view.
The whole town is stretching out right below you. Now that you’ve turned the engine off and your headlights have gone out, you see the lights even better, shielded by a blanket of stars glimmering above the horizon, and you can’t help but gasp out in the beauty of it all. This place makes you want to take a picture, so you can remember how you felt while standing here and admiring the city forever– so you can remember how you felt while standing next to Donghyuck, heart foolishly drumming against your ribcage– and you suddenly realize just how badly you despise the fact that he showed this to you just to send you off while he waits for his date, as if to show you everything you could have if you went out with him, even though the question was never even on the table in the first place.
Clearing your throat, you turn to him, eyes glazing his side profile. “Where’s your date? Is she turning up? I don’t think it’s safe to make her–”
“My date’s already here,” he hums, nodding to himself.
This does nothing to clear out the fog of confusion from in front of your eyes. “Huh? Where?”
“Here,” he repeats. The word has you wearily looking around yourself, furrowed brows and all– and that only makes the man chuckle at your antics, low voice cutting out of his throat making its way straight to the bottom of your stomach. “There’s no one else here. Just us. And no one else is coming, so will you chill out and enjoy our date, finally?” he asks, locking his gaze with you in a lazy, yet attractive manner that has your hands shaking and your brain instantly panicking.
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you process his words for a few seconds, doing mental acrobatics and racking your brain in thought. Nothing helps. “Our date?”
“Mhm.”
“Yeah, no,” you giggle out in awkwardness, feeling unarmed and like somebody’s just dunk a bucket of hot water over you. Shaking your head, you try hard to mask the way you’re feeling on the inside right now, because what are you even feeling right now? As you do some unreadable gestures with your arms as a way of declining and canceling everything that’s happening right now. “Us? A date? Yeah, not happening–”
You mumble out, ready to escape the situation as fastly and as efficiently as you can while you try to make your way back inside of the car, not really thinking of the journey home you’re about to have to make with him on the passenger’s seat, when a hand grips your wrist, making you stop in your tracks. You take a few steps away from him nonetheless, and the man soon follows you before your body is swiftly turned against your car, the small of your back coming in contact with the driver’s door. Your breathing is quick when the man hovers above you, and you don’t feel danger– you just feel a bit panicked at the way tonight’s playing out. A date? You wouldn’t have thought of this in your most insane dreams.
“Why are you trying to run away?” he asks, his hand still holding your wrist, his fingers firm, yet gentle on your skin.
“Because– um– because-” you stutter, eyes instantly meeting his– regret pooling in the bottom of your stomach when you realize the proximity of his gaze, something tense bundling up in your insides, “this is ridiculous, Donghyuck, you can’t just–”
“I can’t just?” he tempts you, eyebrows rising to make you continue.
“You can’t just lure me into a date with you, that’s not how this works–”
“Would you go if I asked, then?”
“No, of course not!” you shake your head at him, tone of voice a few octaves higher than usual. Your eyes scan over your companion, his face reflecting the moonlight, and you find yourself counting the moles on his cheeks and noticing his sped-up breathing, automatically matching it despite not realizing it yourself.
“Why? ‘Cause I don’t have a driving license, or because you’re just scared to admit that you’re attracted to me?” he challenges you, quirking up his brows at you in tension.
Something about it makes you lose all the air in your lungs. He’s so close now you swear the scent of his cologne has made you drugged up, since you can’t seem to take your eyes off his lips for the next few seconds, completely in trance and electrified, and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess, too lost in everything that is him to come up with something coherent. “That’s- that’s just not-”
He laughs at you, he snickers, as those words escape your mouth, not even a full sentence. You bet it’s enough of a confirmation for him that you’ve officially lost all control– you can’t seem to get out a teasing remark like you usually can, no smart words calculated and thrown his way to scatter down his ego, and you think he realizes that he won. You’re defenseless, you’re weak, and you really want to make out with him right now.
Which he might have sensed out of the way you’ve been yearningly staring at his lips the whole exchange. Still, he mumbles out a small “Stop me now if you don’t want this,” just to be completely sure.
And you don’t. You don't stop him when he leans in and captures your lips with his. You’d be a fool to.
His lips crash against yours with a fever-like pace, the tension that’s been building up between the two of you making itself known in the hurried motions of your lips. His kiss is deep, hands cradling your cheeks as he angles you to lock your lips with his better, not a hint of shyness or hesitance in his motions. Your fingers shakily grasp at the front of his shirt, trying to steady yourself when each motion of his mouth against yours leaves your knees weaker and weaker, your body pressed harder against the car door.
He tastes of mint, making you suspect he planned this and chewed on a gum before meeting you, and when his teeth gently pulls at your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you, his tongue is left exploring the inside of your mouth, making you grow hotter and hotter under his ministrations. Your hands occupy themselves as they finally let go off his shirt and sneak around his small waist, pulling him closer, and you swear that you’ve never experienced a kiss that would leave you so eager for more before, a kiss that would leave you so weak and open for anything that’s about to happen– as if you were already naked and bare, a puddle in his palms.
You’re soon left out of breath, gasping for air when he pulls away from you, and his kisses turn into pecks left on your lips, open mouthed kisses slowly trailing to the corner of your mouth and down your jaw, lips hungrily attaching to your neck, his nose glazing the soft skin as if to smell your scent and ingrave it into his memory. Something inside of you unties and makes you lose all of your control, finally falling fully into the sensation of the novelty of making out with Lee Donghyuck against your car, and you find your hands tying themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots when he finds the soft spot on the crevice of your shoulder that makes you squirm, and you suddenly know what all the girls in the locker rooms were talking about. Each action of his has you gasping for air, eyes pressing shut in the blissfulness of it all– the bites he leaves on your neck, smoothing them down with kitten licks each time surely leaving bruises, making your insides light up with the acts of possession.
“Hyuck–” you gasp, his mouth sucking into another spot on your neck, your head instantly moving away from his way to give him more space to work his magic.
“Hm?” he hums, a satisfied sound cutting out of his throat as his actions get more slow, more lazy, but still just as electrifying. You don’t really know what you wanted to say– perhaps you had no point of calling his name just to say it, and the hazy look in your face is enough of a proof to him when he unattaches himself off your neck and locks his eyes with you, a grin settling onto his face. “Feels good?”
Nodding eagerly, almost a bit fast and a bit too soon to your own liking (but you’ll worry about that later), you watch him lean towards you again, lips locking with yours in need. Your fingers trail up and down his clothed back, his fingers mirroring the same, but up your loose shirt (which reminds you that you didn’t even dress prettily for the occasion– since you didn’t know this was your date you're attending), cold hands against your heated skin. Shivering from the fresh breeze of the night, you feel him grin against your lips before detaching himself from them to speak against your mouth. “Let’s move this somewhere warmer,” he murmurs before he tugs you away from the car and opens up the back door, pushing you inside.
Swiftly getting inside and closing the door behind himself, Donghyuck appears hovering above you, caging you against the uncomfortable seat. Still, you don’t have time to feel any sense of discomfort as his fingers move your hair from the way and his lips are back on yours again, leaving you no time to think of the implications of the whole situation.
“See? Isn’t this much better than arguing with each other all the time?” Hyuck snickers again in a moment of weakness when he pulls back from your face to admire your swollen lips, and the teasing has you pushing him towards the seats, a dissatisfied look on your face.
“Shut up,” you whisper almost hurriedly, climbing onto his lap (not before you admire his sprawled-up legs and the sight of his thighs, though).
“Make me,” he challenges.
“Gladly,” you nod, attaching yourself to his plump lips again, since you can’t seem to get enough of the sensation of them against your weak self, every sweep of his tongue with yours making you feel more heated and impatient as you move against him in his lap, the motion earning you a dissatisfied grunt sent against your mouth as his palms grip your hips with unsaid urgency.
“Don’t start something you wouldn’t want to finish,” he breathes out.
Nodding, you hum. “Who said anything about stopping?” you muse out, grinding against him harder.
You’ll worry about the consequences later.
“Why am I the only one in the shot?” you squint your eyes at the male, watching him as he points his camera to you and tells you to smile and act natural. Donghyuck has on his varsity jacket and his hair is sitting messy, a bit curled on the top of his head, his legs are covered with loose gray sweatpants instead of his usual black jeans– he looks casual, and yet, he looks amazing, you foolishly think as you sigh to yourself and walk across the field, much like the male mentioned a few weeks ago when the two of you ate fried chicken with his free coupons, trying to capture the energy of what youth feels like to you.
“Because you are the main star, honey,” he grins at you, the nickname making you trip over a little on your own feet, before you turn back to him and send him a glare.
“I told you not to call me that,” you mutter, but feel the heat from your stomach slowly rising to the tips of your ears and the tops of your cheeks, your composure slowly crumbling under his gaze. Not only are you watched by his deep brown orbs, there’s also a camera pointed at you now, and if he doesn’t stop with the weird flirting he has going on– especially after what happened between the two of you last week– you don’t know how you’re supposed to contain yourself and act so you don’t look like an utter fool in front of everyone, when the clips will be played in class next week.
“Besides, the project is due next week and this is all we’re doing? Are you sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?” you ask, wary of his confidence. You’re not really sure if Donghyuck knows what he’s doing with this assignment. Why did you even trust him with it in the first place?
“I told you to leave it to me,” he says, “now be a good girl and run down the field, maybe twirl a little like a ballerina, I dunno… Hum a little tune to yourself, do anything remotely interesting and youthful, okay?” he instructs you, and you comply, ignoring the fact that he told you to be a good girl, because after what the two of you did last week, you’re not able to register those two words in a way that would not be mildly sexual in your brain.
You two haven’t spoken about the fact that you hooked up in the backseat of your car after your weird date last week. Truth be told, you two haven’t spoken about anything since it happened, because you felt too awkward and hesitant to bring any conversation topic up. The first time you two spoke was when Donghyuck texted you yesterday about the project, and you told yourself that you simply can't ignore him when it comes to these things, and so you agreed to meet up with him, hoping he won't bring up the events of last week. You were scared. What were you scared of, exactly? You have no idea.
Something in you was almost a bit shameful to admit to yourself that you managed to fall for Lee Donghyuck this quickly. Something in you was a bit embarrassed at the fact that you let yourself be so intimate and so close with the male, and although you don’t regret it, you don’t think you want to talk about it with him (or anyone, for that matter) just yet. Or ever, actually.
And although you could be rational and tell yourself that surely, Donghyuck wanted you in just the same way you wanted him, and there was nothing embarrassing about it, you didn’t feel comfortable with talking about the act with him, because deep down, you know it wasn’t just about the sex for you and you were afraid that it was for him, and you’d rather stay in the blissful unknowingness than to know he only wanted to have sex with you and not try to go somewhere further with your relationship. Did this inner monologue reek of disgusting insecurity?
Yes. Yes, it did. But somehow, you’re not able to do anything about it.
And so you run down the field like Donghyuck told you to, and you twirl and twist and shout and dance around, trying your hardest to act silly and youthful and exactly like he would like you to, because you’d hate to be unnatural around him, and you pray it’s enough for both the project and him included. Turning back to gaze at him from the distance, you notice that he’s not even recording anymore, only watching you with a lazy grin on his face, eyes glimmering under the direct sunlight, and you wonder how you haven’t realized just how beautiful he is when he’s simply just existing all those months ago, and how foolish you feel with the thought and both without it now. Walking up to him, you muse.
“Are we done here?”
“I think we got all the shots we need,” he hums, nodding to your question. There is something reassuring in his smile, and if you were confident enough to grasp at the straws, you would try to talk to him about the events of last week. You lack in many ways, though, and you were never so self-assured as you try to portray yourself to be, and so you don’t.
“Let’s go, then,” you say, shuddering from the cold November wind as you walk away from the man, expecting him to follow you. You drove here, since the place is a few miles away from the city, and the fact that this marks the end of your project didn’t really make you as relieved and happy as you thought you’d feel back when you agreed to be his driver for the semester.
A soft fabric envelopes your shoulders, his varsity jacket hugging you into warmth. You smell his cologne when you shyly push your limbs through the sleeves– a self-indulgent desire, too strong to be fought away– and when you look at him to thank him, he wears a soft look in his eyes that glazes you with such tenderness you feel like combusting from the inside with the strengths of your own emotions. Your heart beats fast in your chest when he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you walk towards the car, and when a stronger wind hits your heated face, you think that maybe Donghyuck was right, after all.
You do think this perfectly captures what youth feels like.
“So we won’t talk about it?” he asks, and you turn away from him in fear of your emotions being clearly written on your face. He doesn’t have to name it– you know what he means.
“No,” you shake your head, determined, yet a little scared of his response, “not now.” Not yet, you think. You want to enjoy today a little longer.
“Why?” he asks.
Taking a shaky breath in, sensing that you won’t get to avoid the confrontation like you wanted to, you shrug. “I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it yet,” you bitterly laugh, meeting his eyes with something close to fear in your eyes.
“Hear what?”
“That you… you didn’t really mean anything by it, y’know,” you mumble, “I mean, you probably just did it to stroke your ego, or something, after everything I said at the party, so… yeah, I just don’t know if I wanna hear it.”
There’s a heartbeat of silence after your explanation, and Donghyuck only stares you down with a blank expression. It's not often that you don’t get to clearly see and experience all his emotions flashing through his face, letting you know what he feels even before he gets to speak it out loud. Now is one of the situations, though, and it scares you– it makes you so deeply afraid you’d rather back away from this conversation– damn you for entertaining it in the first place, and so you pretend it never happened in the first place.
“You think I did it to stroke my ego?” he clarifies.
“I- I mean…” you stutter, shying away from his gaze.
“Okay, then,” he mumbles, jaw hardening, his eyes not meeting yours when he circles the car and gets to his designated place on the passenger's seat, “that’s fine, I guess. I’ll try to show you my intentions clearer next time.”
Sitting in class, head resting in your hands as you stare right in front of you, mentally counting down the seconds until the last class of the semester starts, you are only vaguely aware of the things happening around you. You register Aeri talking to you about the new episode of her favorite drama somewhere to your right and you are also aware of Haknyeon and Shotaro sitting in the row in front of you, laughing loudly to themselves about the way their weekend went– yours went terribly, just for everyone’s information, since you decided to drown your feelings in alcohol alone in your apartment, having to be led to bed by your roommate after she got home in the middle of the night from one of her dates with Eric. You don’t really realize it when the class starts, because the monotone voice of your professor doesn’t do much to wake you up, but you are painfully aware of Lee Donghyuck’s body slumping next to yours into one of the only vacant chairs approximately 10 minutes after the class starts, out of breath and slouched over.
Aware of his presence, yet still acting like a scared deer around him, you don’t make any effort into turning to him and greeting him upon his arrival. Still, you sense the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils and making you just a bit more tired and sleepy, your eyes closing on themselves before you’re woken up by the sound of your name coming out of the professor’s mouth.
Scared you’re getting scolded for sleeping in class, you straighten your back and put on your best polite expression, but then you realize your name wasn’t called, just mentioned, and the name of none other than your neighbor was following, when the projector on the wall in front of you lights up and a file named Final projects is opened on the professor’s laptop, each .mp4 file named with a pair of surnames, and two clicks after, your final project is the first one of many presented in front of the whole class. You tried to tell Donghyuck that you could help with the final editing, but the male said he had a vision he needed to achieve, and for that, he wanted to be in charge of it alone, and frankly, out of fear of interacting with him more than was absolutely necessary, you left him to do his thing, resulting in this being your first time watching the final video as well.
There’s a few seconds of silence, a point of complete blankness as the clip starts, and a song played on an acoustic guitar starts playing when the word YOUTH, all capitalized, flashes at the screen.
A clip of you running down the field in your flowy dress starts the video, the camera zooming in on your figure when you twirl and skip around in the tall grass, and then you laugh over the background music, the sound making you gape in surprise. You didn’t know your laugh sounded like that, and with the hazy coloring of the clips and the solemn, youthful atmosphere Donghyuck managed to capture in the video, you find yourself thinking the sound was kind of beautiful.
Then the clip cuts into another one– and you widen your eyes at the sight, because Donghyuck told you he’s only going to include the clips from the field, and you believed him, well, because you never saw him record anything else– as the screen shows you a bunch of moments, all wordless, of you just going on with your life. The very next one is of you arriving to class late, a grumpy expression playing with your features. You didn’t notice Donghyuck filming back then, when he offered you a cup of coffee as you laid back on the desk, and a fit of giggles erupts around the class at your behavior. The next clip shows you laughing at Aeri’s shoulder in Yangyang’s basement– a couple of clips of that night following, capturing you playing beer pong with your other friends, or taking sips of your beer when you sat down on one of the folding chairs in the corner of the basement– each one showcasing you completely natural, unstaged, and raw. You had no idea anyone was watching you, yet alone taking clips of you. Did Donghyuck have his camera with him all those times? Or was he just taking those with his phone, since you never even noticed?
There’s a clip of you showing him the middle finger through the window when he called you late at night one day. Another one of you driving, and frankly, you don’t even know where you were going, but the sound of you giggling breaks through the speakers and you slouch deeper into your seat, shy at hearing the sound. The very next one is of you sipping at your boba through your straw, and that’s when you realize those were taken by his phone– at least some of them– because you attempt to hide from the lens by showing your palm against it. Another clip shows you digging through bags of McDonald’s take out in the driver’s seat of your car, another one lets you remember the time you went to get fried chicken with him, thinking he’s sending the video he took of you to tease his roommate with the free food he got with someone else back then, unaware that he wanted to use it for the project later.
There are a few clips that only last a second. You walking a few steps ahead of him– you think it was the time you two went to the mall, you angry with his antics. Another one of you picking out cans of soda from the rack in the convenience store. A clip of you driving, once again, but now the sky is starry and dark, and you remember the night too well, since it wasn’t that long ago. A clip of you glaring at your bangs in the rear view mirror, another one of you staring into your textbooks at the library.
There’s only one clip that shows Donghyuck as well. It’s one taken without you knowing, much like the previous ones, and how you missed the phone plopped up against the corner of your dashboard, you really don’t know, but the video shows you two in the McDonald’s parking lot, your hand touching his on the gear stick as you show him how to drive. Only then do you notice the flustered look on his face and the nervous laugh he gets out in the clip, the sound making your heart jump in your ribcage.
The last part of the video is of you walking a few steps ahead of him, his varsity jacket hugging you around your shoulders. It’s the latest clip of them all, and it makes you painfully shy to look at it. The video comes to finish with a few last strums of an acoustic guitar in the background, and you come back to your senses when you feel a hand squeeze your thigh under the table, the whole class erupting into claps. The video was beautiful, and you feel moved.
Although you should be more mad about the fact that Donghyuck took videos of you without you knowing, there is something incredibly moving about the fact that somebody was looking at you and felt the need to capture the moment before it went away. The clips were candid, real, raw, showcasing exactly how the memory went, how your laugh sounded, and how you looked through Donghyuck’s eyes. The video was exactly what it needed to be and more.
There’s something about the fact that all of the clips were of you that made you feel weak in your knees. If the video was what youth feels like, does this mean you were his youth?
If you felt beautiful in the video, loved the way your eyes crinkled in joy, liked the way your expressions morphed into the purest form of whatever emotion you felt at the moment, did that mean this was the way Donghyuck saw you with his eyes?
“See?” you hear him whisper into your ear, his hand still resting at the top of your leg. “I told you I had a vision. I did a good job, didn’t I?”
You chuckle, then offer him a nod. “I didn’t know you were recording all of those,” you whisper, ignoring the words coming out of your professor’s mouth– surely evaluating your work right now. You don’t really want to hear it, though– you’re sure you’ll pass. After seeing what your neighbor’s capable of, you have no doubts.
“I wanted it to feel authentic,” he peeps, “to the way I see you, I mean.”
“Is this what you meant when you said you’d prove your point later?” you wonder.
“I mean, the fact that I’ve always had the biggest crush on you was supposed to come across when I liked your objectively terrible haircut you got at the beginning of the term, but yes,” he admits, sheepishly smiling.
“Okay, uncalled for,” you shrug off his hand from your thigh, to which he giggles and captures your limb with his again, interlacing your fingers. He sways your hands back and forth, offering you a soft look that drives you slightly insane. After all of this, you’re really not sure what you were so afraid of.
“How does that roadtrip sound right now?”
“Still absolutely terrifying,” you note.
“Even if I pay for gas?” he laughs.
Squinting at him, admiring the boyish grin playing with his lips, you sigh. “I’ll think about it.”
#bjnet#nct#nct 127#nct dream#haechan#lee donghyuck#haechan scenario#haechan x reader#haechan fluff#donghyuck x reader#donghyuck fic#donghyuck fluff#donghyuck scenario#nct x reader#nct scenario#nct fic#nct fluff#nct 127 x reader#nct 127 fluff#nct dream fluff#nct dream scenario
891 notes
·
View notes
Text
MARIAJOSÉ ﹐9teen ﹐she ¡ her ﹐taurus ﹐slytherin.
hi! thought it was a good idea to introduce you to my blog and for you to know about me too!
as you guys read, im nineteen years old; im currently studying psychology and one of my favorite hobbies is writing. i’m a big formula one fan & im obsessed with the marauders (i’m a james potter girlie), i also really like kpop, specially THE BOYZ and many more things but i don’t want this to be long.
also i like when people respect my boundaries. i’m a girl who likes having free time to write but that does not mean imma be writing every time i can, cause that doesn’t feel right for me…so expect maybe slow upgrades, i just don’t want to be pressured.
what are you going to find here?
nonestop talking about carlos sainz & daniel ricciardo. jk.
a lot of writing about my favorite characters ever. im talking one shots, mini fics, social media au, etc…
favorites to write about…
harry potter universe.
- james potter.
- sirius black.
- remus lupin.
- regulus black.
- theodore nott.
- mattheo riddle.
formula one.
- carlos sainz.
- daniel ricciardo.
- lando norris.
- charles leclerc.
- max verstappen.
outer banks.
- rafe cameron.
- jj maybank.
- sarah cameron.
disclaimer: yes, you can totally ask for any character, i’ll take requests; but if i do not know who the person or character is, won’t be writing about it. also i won’t write about any mcu character cause i don’t really like the marvel universe (except for peter parker).
#— text#daniel ricciardo#dave lizewski x reader#carlos sainz#formula 1#james potter#prongs x you#james potter x reader#sirius black x reader#remus lupin x reader#harry potter#carlos sainz x reader#writing#social media au
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thrill Ride · Hyunjae (The Boyz)
You ponder over your mixed feelings for Hyunjae during your shared quad ride.
Genre: fluff! Enemies to lovers au
----
"Faster."
"What?"
"I said faster!"
"I can't!"
"Ugh!" Hyunjae falls back, hands gripping tightly onto the metal bars lining the outer edges of your quad vehicle, "remind me why we're doing this together again?"
"Because you, my dear friend, are as single as a pringle," you shoot back amidst the wild grunts of the quad, "as am I."
It was supposed to be a fun day out with friends, enjoying nature and having fun riding quads, sightseeing and spending the day out in the sun. That quickly turned sour the moment you realized that all of your friends already had their other halves -- nobody had mentioned it was a group date! -- and that, since all single quads were taken up that day, you and Hyunjae were obliged to share a quad.
That regret keeps on piling on the more you ride, what with the said young man constantly berating you for not driving to his liking when you’re supposed to be the one driving.
"Have you never driven a quad before?” he shouts at you from behind, though it’s practically impossible to hear his words against the wind roaring through your ears.
The quads before you are speeding up, cheers and shouts echoing through the air as a gust of dust slaps right into your face and stings your eyes, “no, I haven’t!” You shout back, “so you better not piss me off or I’ll--”
“You’ll what? You won’t be able to do anything at the speed we’re going!”
“Oh shut up! Why did you come if you knew that we’d end up together?!” You snap back in growing irritation. Contrary to you, Hyunjae had known about the seating arrangements well before you did, and it astounds why he’s complaining so much when he had the choice not to show up. What a brat!
“Because you wouldn’t have been able to ride it alone!” he yells out.
Oh. That kind of made sense.
“Then stop complaining!” you yell.
Your quad gives a sudden jolt and you yelp out, thumb slipping on the accelerator in panic as you feel yourself losing control of the vehicle. With actions too quick to comprehend, Hyunjae’s arms circle your frame, gripping the quad handles to keep it steady as he pushes down onto the accelerator.
“This is all your fault!” you bellow, heart still running a hundred miles an hour from the sudden burst of adrenaline pumping through your veins.
“Oh shut up,” his voice is close, practically echoing against your ear. The warmth of his back envelopes you, chest pressing to your back in a way that makes you tense up, “if it weren’t for me, we’d end up in the sugar cane fields.”
He has a point there. Swallowing hard and deciding to stay quiet, you quickly spare a glance in his direction and almost gasp at how close his face is to yours.
He’s kinda cute.
You feel like slapping yourself at such scandalous statements. This is Hyunjae, the guy you’ve always bickered back and forth with ever since you ended up in the same dance class. It’s hard to forget that he’s well sought-out amongst the female population when he’s constantly poking fun at you every second of the day, but looking at him now, you can’t deny that you could spend all the ride marvelling at his features.
“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” comes his snicker. That instantly rips your gaze away with a scowl, “yeah and it might burn my camera in the process.”
He chuckles -- much to your surprise -- and that makes your lips quirk up in a half-smile.
“Look,” he nudges your hand with his and turning your head to follow his line of vision, another gasp falls from your lips as your eyes settle upon the glimmering landscape before you.
Sugarcane fields span out before you, freshly grown and green. Smoke swirls through the air, dust fanning out over your face as the ocean waves welcome you with a roar, its aquamarine waters glimmering in the midday sunshine.
You can taste the salt on your tongue, the coolness of the wind flapping against your face. And Hyunjae’s heat against your body.
This is what it feels like to be free. To be one with the wind and the sun and the sea.
You love it.
Further along the edge of the cliff is where the quads have stopped to admire the view and as your quad comes to a stop behind the last of them, your friends are quick to make fun of you.
“So you decided to stop fighting,” Juyeon smirks, clapping Hyunjae on the back as you trudge up to them, all dirtied and dusted in brown.
“See how well you two look when you’re actually not bickering like cats and dogs,” Chanhee adds with a wink.
“Haha, very funny,” Hyunjae replies with a roll of his eyes, but not before cutting you a glance, one that you don’t fail to miss. Heat creeps up along the back of your neck as you fall into step behind the group, deciding to walk with the girls instead as you try to assimilate the overwhelming tide of emotions suddenly present in your chest.
"Waa look at that!" One of your girlfriends cries out in delight at the tide of waves. She runs up to the cliff edge, arms spread as wide as an eagle as water splashes up the rocks. The rest of the girls busy themselves with taking pictures while you entertain yourself watching the foam build and retreat below.
"Hey Y/N, can you take a picture for me and Jacob?" His girlfriend asks and you're quick to oblige, stomach churning uncomfortably at how cozied up they look. Without embarrassment nor shame.
Heck. You're more uncomfortable than they are.
And thus comes the onset of couple photos, romance shots that get worse as the minutes slip by. By the time the guide asks you all the climb back onto your quad, you curse the heavens for feeling like the biggest third wheeler ever.
"Should make them pay you," Hyunjae's words are accompanied with a smirk as he turns on the engine.
"I'd rather not be witness to their displays of affection," you reply, gripping the quad handles behind you.
"Jealous?"
"Ha, as if!" Your cheeks -- despite your retort -- flood with colour and you're glad that the helmet is shadowing your features.
"Also, you might want to hold on to me."
You snort, "I think I'm good."
"Your loss."
You don't even have time to react as the quad jerks forward, a shriek tearing through your throat as your arms quickly find purchase onto Hyunjae's shirt. The latter cackles evilly as you shoot down the sugarcane field with the wind nipping at your skin and body jolting along the uneven path of rocks.
Bloody hell! Why in the world did he have to drive so fast?!
"I told you to hold on!" His voice is barely audible over the noise and dust.
"Asshole!"
"I'll take that as a compliment!"
You feel like kicking him in the face, for even though you can't see him you're pretty certain that he's grinning that annoyingly obnoxious smile of his.
At least you can enjoy the view, you think grudgingly to yourself as the sugarcane fields zoom by. The ocean is large and deep blue before you, a sea of marine depth sparkling under the heat of summer sunshine. The quads in front are gaining distance, dust rising from their heels and making you cough.
But you're not prepared for Hyunjae's hand suddenly jerking the quad forward to gain speed, "what the hell?!"
Hands instantly fisting into balls on the back of his shirt, you glare at the hearty laugh rumbling theough his chest.
A hand comes round to grab your wrist. You yelp, jump back only for Hyunjae to say, "hold on tight, Y/N!"
You're glad he can't see your face right now, flushed with heat and embarrassment as you hesitantly circle your arms around Hyunjae's waist. He speeds up in response and adrenaline runs up your spine as you zoom down the broken-up dirt trail.
Dear god, you can feel your heart pounding through your chest and you wonder if he can feel it too. Sweat dots your hairline as you pray for this moment to be over.
Except, your body is quite enjoying the sensation of having your chest pressed to Hyunjae's strong back. It might have escaped your notice, but he feels firm and warm and just so safe that you unconsciously shift closer, arms tightening ever so slightly.
It's a miracle you manage to stay alive when you finally stop at your next viewpoint; a huge expanse of beach overlooking beautiful aquamarine waves framed by rocks, one of the most visited alcoves in the neighbourhood.
"You can let go now."
As if struck by lightning, you whip your hands away and are rewarded by another of his chuckles as he turns to look at you, "why so shy all of a sudden? I swear you wanted to kill me just two minutes ago."
"Sh-shut up," you mumble while averting your gaze. He doesn't even seem fazed by what had just happened! After all, it's not every day you get to cuddle up to the man you hate the most.
Okay,...hate is a strong word. But still!
"Y/N, you okay?" Jacob asks as you descend from your quad, brows furrowed and concern painting his features, "you look pale."
"I'm fine. Just a little dizzy from the heat."
He doesn't probe any further, thankfully, allowing you to regain some of your composure while the rest of the group squabble over pictures and who looks best.
"Hey, we didn't get a picture of Hyunjae and Y/N yet," Juyeon's girlfriend points out and you swear you'll murder her.
"Oh yeah," Juyeon turns to you in realization, "come on then. Let me take a pic."
"Just for the memories," Chanhee quips.
You really don't want to. Not now, not when your insides are already messed up at the thought of Hyunjae himself. But Hyunjae -- as though he knows you're in a weak position -- nudges you forward, "alright, just for the memories."
Goddamnit, you curse inwardly aa Juyeon starts positioning himself, "you might want to get closer," he murmurs loud enough for you to hear.
Hyunjae shuffles on command, hand going into a peace sign. You try out a wobbly smile, unable to focus on anything but Hyunjae's scent.
"Y/N, you look like you're about to puke," One of the girls calls out with a giggle, "smile a little!"
So you try. You really do, though you probably look more constipated than ever. And that surprise evolves tenfold upon feeling Hyunjae’s hand circling your waist to pull you close enough for your shoulder to bump into his chest.
“Smile,” he mutters through parted lips, oblivious to the heat spreading like wildfire through your cheeks.
Click!
“All good! Let’s go,” you almost slump away at Juyeon’s words, until you’re met with resistance. Looking up at Hyunjae with a frown and an insult ready on the tip of your tongue, it dissolves the moment you’re met with tender golden brown eyes.
You can’t move. Why...is he looking at you like that?
“What?” you blurt out.
“Oh nothing, just...” his fingers come up to brush away something along your cheekbone, “you got dirt all over your face.”
He chuckles, but it doesn’t feel mischievous or annoying. It sounds...
affectionate?
“Come on,” you’re brought out of your daydream when he knocks upon your forehead. Is that normal Hyunjae behaviour? You’re not quite sure, even as you settle in the front this time, jumping when you’re wrapped up in his arms and pressed up to his chest.
You’re pretty sure it’s not the sweat that’s making you all uncomfortable and prickly.
------
“So...when are you and Hyunjae getting together?”
It’s almost dark when Jacob blurts out the question out of nowhere, the words lingering in the air like awkward bees as you turn to look at him in shock.
The group has decided on hanging out by the beach to watch the sun set in the horizon after your little ride, which you took to your advantage to stay as far away from the said young man as possible. It’s not that you’re uncomfortable from the quad ride -- you are, but that’s not the point -- it’s just that you’re trying to come to terms with the fluttery hummingbirds ravaging through your ribcage.
Maybe it is the summer heat making you fall prey to anything that can potentially become yours--
What are you even thinking?! You’re more than horrified by where your thoughts are leading you, so wrapped up in your own head that you forget to answer Jacob.
“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Did I shock you or something?”
“N-No!” You blurt out quickly, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Me and Hyunjae don’t get along that well. We only paired up because we had to. So no, and besides, we’re...we don’t like each other that way.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Jacob winks, which doesn’t help lessen the flush overtaking the back of your neck, “well maybe you can ask the person in question.”
“Ask me what?” You want to curse aloud, turning to be faced with a dishevelled Hyunjae, topless and board shorts still damp from his earlier plunge, “what are you guys talking about so secretively?”
“Oh Y/N can tell you,” Jacob says before you can protest. He dusts himself off, ignores your glare, and waves at the both of you before trudging back to the sea where the rest of the group are chatting amongst themselves.
Hyunjae shoots you down with an amused look. You answer him with a glower that makes him laugh. Settling himself beside you on the sand dampening your shorts, he says, "what were you and Jacob whispering about?"
"None of your business," you shoot back. It's easier without having him so close. Your head is clearer, your thoughts less chaotic.
"Mean," Hyunjae pulls out his tongue. He glances down at your still-dust clad legs, "so that's why it smells around here. I was starting to think it was me."
Your foot doesn't hesitate to kick him in the shin and Hyunjae grunts in pain as you reply, "you disgust me sometimes."
"Me? What did I ever do to you?" He gasps mockingly.
"Don't worry it's just you."
"Rude!"
Glancing at the rest of your friends splashing about in the water, you then ask, "what do you want from me?"
"I need a reason to sit next to you now? You hurt me Y/N," he folds a leg against his chest, leaning his chin onto his knee to look at you through his rumpled bangs, "I thought we were comrades in crime now that we shared the same ride."
"It's partners in crime. And no, that doesn't automatically make us bffs."
"Don't deviate from the subject," his smirk is playful, annoyingly charming. Does he know how handsome he is? "What were you so invested in discussing with Jacob that your entire face turned red?"
Heat zaps through your cheeks on cue, "my face is not red!"
"Aaand we're back to the blushing," he chuckles, "was it about a boy? Maybe me?"
"Wh--Why would you care anyway?!”
“So it’s about me?”
“Wh--No! I never said such a thing!”
“Whoa there princess,” he’s quick to lift his hands in mock surrender, more and more amused by your exclamations which you realize all too soon just gave you away.
Quickly dropping your gaze to the sand and turning your head away, you try to mumble out that he’s got it all wrong, only for him to laugh softly and say, “and you think I’d believe that?”
Your heart jumps to your throat. His gaze is riveted on you now, focused and intense. Hands balling up into fists as you quickly hide them in your lap, you try to swallows and hold his eyes -- those beautiful doe eyes -- in an effort to show him that he’s not right. That you don’t have a crush on him.
You don’t!
“You know, if you wanted to keep this a secret that badly,” you jolt in surprise upon feeling the softest brush of his hand against your knuckles. You recoil, but he’s too quick, grabbing it fully and tugging it open in his hold, “you should learn how to lie a little.”
“I...” you can’t meet his eye, “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Y/N.”
His thumb prods your chin up, just the slightest. Your head tilts up to his in fear of what you might see there.
But instead of the disappointment, of the slight revulsion that might grace Hyunjae’s features, you’re faced with that same tender gaze he’d given you earlier. One that makes stars shine in his eyes.
You can’t help but gape.
“Do you like me?”
“No!”
Hyunjae bursts out laughing, “see? Your face is like an open book!”
He doesn’t have to elaborate. You feel so warm you might explode from the heat itself. Ripping your hand away as an overwhelming sense of unease settles over your shoulders, panic starts to churn in your stomach, crawl up your ribcage and stuff your throat raw with ideas you might not be so fond of.
“Y/N? Hey, you alright?” Hyunjae’s voice seems distant despite him sitting so close. You don’t realize he’s touching you until you feel his hand squeezing your shoulder.
You shudder then, not realizing that you’d been holding your breath all along. Hyunjae’s hand slips down your arm to your hand and he holds it in his own. He has big hands, you think absentmindedly, as his thumb starts tracing patterns over the back of your knuckles.
“Sorry, I don’t know how to do this,” your mutter is barely above a whisper but Hyunjae hears it, for he answers, “No, I’m sorry. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have teased you so much.”
“Well, at least you got something right. I do like you,” god, you can feel your ears burning, and it’s not just from the way he’s looking at you. It’s the way he cradles your hand in his, as though it’s so fragile that it might break, “and I...I don’t know what to do with all these stupid feelings when you obviously don’t feel the same.”
“Who said so?”
“Huh?” your eyes quickly flit up to his. Then back to his t-shirt.
“Who said I don’t feel the same?”
“Because you’re Hyunjae.”
“So? Does that mean I can’t like you back or something?”
“No but...well...I never thought it could be possible--” it’s when you look up at him that you gasp in realization that he’s blushing just as deeply as you are.
Confusion washes through you. Followed by realization.
Hyunjae likes you.
Hyunjae reciprocates your feelings.
Hyunjae, whom you always fight with, who never backs down from an argument and who’s always there i, one way or another.
“Well,” his huff breaks you out of your millionth trance, “I like you too, okay? Why do you think I tagged along? Definitely not for them,” he motions towards the boys with his arm, “I wasn’t about to third wheel all these couples for nothing.”
Warmth spreads across your chest, over your cheeks and this time you’re not ashamed to be glowing bright tomato red in front of the young man who has just laid out his heart for you to take. It feels like summer buzzing through your ribcage, endless butterflies fluttering about in a dizzy feeling of euphoria.
“So is this how you show your affection? By bullying me?” you ask teasingly.
“You do the same thing,” he retorts, turning fully so that he’s now facing you, “what did you want me to do? Buy you flowers or something? I feel like you might whack me in the face with them if I ever did that.”
“I would,” you laugh, “that would be so satisfying.”
“So,” he smirks despite the fact that he’s blushing as much as you are. Hand squeezing yours softly to bring your eyes back onto his, air gets stuck in the back of your throat at the tenderness swimming in the depths of his brown eyes, “wanna make it official?”
Your eyebrow quirks up, “you’re going to ask me out on a date?”
“No,” he leans closer as his other hand reaches up to cradle your cheek, “I’m gonna do better than that.”
You shouldn’t have been surprised by the warm pressure of his lips against yours but a small yelp escapes you nonetheless, causing him to chuckle into your mouth. He kisses you, over and over, his mouth caging yours and hand sliding up to trickle through your locks.
Wolf whistles are heard in the background, but Hyunjae is not having you pull away just yet. Instead, his tongue swipes over your bottom lip and cause you to gasp as he lifts his other hand to flip the boys off.
“Don’t mind them,” he mumbles through the kiss, as if you have the actual power to do anything else but let him have his way with you, “they’re just idiots.”
He’s so close, he smells so good -- like a mixture of boy’s shampoo and the aftertaste of the sea salt -- and you’re so wrapped up in the sensation of his tongue slipping into your mouth that you barely register your back pressing into the damp sand below you.
It is only when he pulls away that you are once more graced with the blush littering over his cheeks and out of sheer impulse, your hand reaches out to flutter over his cheekbone.
“You’re blushing so hard,” you can’t help but giggle.
“No I’m not,” Hyunjae mutters, head twisting to kiss your said hand. He leans down then to bury his face into the crook of your neck, successfully hiding from your vision and imprinting a kiss along your pulse point while doing so, “you’re the one who’s as red as a tomato.”
“So we’re a pair of tomatoes now.”
“Hm,” you feel his grin, “seems like it.”
#hyunjae#lee hyunjae#tbz x you#theboyz imagines#the boyz#theboyz scenarios#the boyz imagine#the boyz scenarios#the boyz drabble#the boyz headcanons#tbz x reader#tbz x y/n#theboyz fluff#theboyz anst#hyunjae fluff#hyunjae imagines#hyunjae scenario#hyunjae fanfiction#hyunjae drabbles#hyunjae x you#hyunjae x reader#theboyz#theboyz drabbles#tbz headcanons#tbz soft hours#tbz timestamps#sangyeon#juyeon#kevin moon#jacob bae
384 notes
·
View notes
Text
DROP THE ACT(FT.HONGJOONG) (PART 5)
“The very essence of romance is uncertainty.”
-Oscar Wilde
You and Hongjoong couldn’t stand each other…right?
I only write on this blog on Tumblr, so if you see my work on any other platform, please let me know immediately.
Taglist: @kwonnansi ; @unabashedturkeytreeslime ; @happiestgirlontheeastcoast ; @to-all-the-stories-i-love ; @bangtanxberm ; @bunnybubkook ; @nctflix
Appearances from the Wooyoung and Seonghwa, and also Sunwoo from The Boyz
Helloooooo~ I hope you enjoy Part 5! This is my favourite chapter, so do leave me notes and comments about what you thought :)))
My update schedule is not fixed, so please do let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.
RIVALS TO LOVERS AU, IDIOTS TO LOVERS AU, Not exactly Enemies, but kinda, FAKE DATING AU
Warnings: Cursing, talk of snobby families, kissing, mentions of alcoholism, arranged marriages, breakups, partial smut, blatant classism.
Word count: 3100
Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut in later chapters
————————————–
You excused yourself early that night, only pausing to text Hongjoong as you drove home. Hongjoong himself only realised you were gone when Seonghwa was looking for you and he offered to call you. As he took out his phone, he saw your terse text.
- Hey
- I’m not feeling too good, so I’m going to head home
And immediately, he felt dread overcome him. It just felt...off.
His brain went into overdrive. Shit. Were you that upset about the kiss? Things did get weird only after the kiss. Granted, with the way your parents had been glaring at you, he did have to kiss you, but he’d be lying if he said most of it wasn’t just him wanting to kiss you. And he did. He did lie to you. Partly because he was afraid of your reaction, even if you did get caught up in the moment and kiss him back. Mostly because he was terrified of what it meant. He hated you. He hated you and your family with his entire soul. How could he want to kiss you?
No. It was just a temporary lapse in judgement. Call it the moment. Call it confusion. Call it whatever. But he most definitely did not want to kiss you. Even as his hands were aching to hold you again, that night, in bed, he told himself over and over again that he did not want to kiss you.
---
It was easy for you to avoid Hongjoong for the next few days, as there were no parties or galas. Of course, you could have texted him. Or he could have texted you. But neither of you did that. You threw yourself back into work. At least, you tried to.
A week after you last saw Hongjoong, you snapped your laptop shut after reading an email from the marketing team about your new cologne launch. It had a ‘woodsy’ scent. Fucking hell, of course, it had the one thing you associate with him. Okay, maybe not one thing. Maybe every perfume note that smelled like him sent you spiralling, which was inconvenient since you sold perfume for a living. You groaned and leaned back in your chair, marvelling at the situation you got yourself into when you jumped hearing someone knock on your door.
“Come in.”
The door swung open, and a very familiar head of short, wavy hair popped in. In seconds, your expression went from tired to complete and utter shock.
“Mirae?!”
She shut the door behind her and smiled nervously as she pulled you into a hug.
“Y/N!”
You stared at her, still in disbelief. You missed her. Of course you missed her. She was your best friend. Is your best friend. No matter how upset you were with her for disappearing for three years, you still loved her. But were you pissed as hell? Yes.
You raised an eyebrow as you stared at her.
She took a deep breath before coming to sit down in front of you.
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.”
You turned and looked around.
“Oh, are you talking to me? I’m sorry, I thought you forgot how to talk.”
You gave her a pointed look. She gave you a sheepish one.
“Are you done being petty?”
“Nope. You’re going to hear about this for a really long time.”
“Fair enough.”
The two of you sat there in silence for a few minutes before she broke it.
“Can I at least explain why I disappeared?”
You nodded.
“Do you remember, around 4 years ago, I started dating this guy called Kim Hongjoong?”
You tensed immediately but simply nodded in agreement.
“Well, I never wanted to date him. My family…well, let’s just say that business wasn’t going well. My dad looked around and became fixated with Hongjoong. He was rich and was new to the business, so he didn’t know about my dad’s drinking problem. So, my dad forced me to date Hongjoong. He tried to force me to marry Hongjoong.”
Mirae paused for a second, clearly finding it difficult to talk about.
“I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Not that Hongjoong was a bad guy. He was great. I just…I didn’t love him. And I did not want to marry him. So I made plans to run away. You remember my cousin Kiara, right? Yeah, she let me stay with her. Just before I left, I told you he broke my heart and I told him you forced me to break up with him. I’m sorry. I was desperate. I texted you before boarding the flight and yeah…I disappeared.”
You stared at her wide-eyed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“…I don’t know. It was just hard to admit that my family is that fucked up.”
You quickly hugged her, feeling awful. You weren’t even able to help your best friend when she needed it. What kind of a friend were you?
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Mirae. I should have been there for you.”
“No! You were there for me. I was just having a tough time talking about it.”
“Is it safe for you to be back here?”
“Yeah. My mom covered for me. And they just got divorced the other day. So yeah,” she turned to give you the happiest smile you’d seen from her in a long time, “I’m staying with my mom.”
---
The two of you spent ages catching up and only when she left did it sink it. You had no reason to hate Hongjoong. You didn’t even have to feel guilty about it anymore. Just like that, so much tension left your body. You knew there was something there. There had to be. You knew it wasn’t just you. And maybe, maybe like you, Hongjoong was also conflicted. Maybe he didn’t know what to do, since he thought he hated you. God, you had to tell him. You absolutely had to tell him. You two could finally drop the act of hating each other and just…be you.
You drove to Hongjoong’s office, knowing full well he wouldn’t go home before 6.
You walked down the hallway of the empty office, the employees having gone home for the day, and with each passing step, you felt your heart lift with a kind of elation. It was freeing to stop pretending to hate him. And you knew. You knew deep down you had always liked him. You didn’t have to suppress it anymore.
You quickened your step.
Hongjoong had to feel something. He could also give up the ridiculous farce of hating you. He kissed you for god’s sake. He even stayed with you the night of the storm. He took you out on a picnic just so you could relax. There had to be something there. There absolutely had to be.
And that was when you saw the open door of his office.
You frowned. That wasn’t like Hongjoong. He had the most peculiar habit of locking every door he could find. Suddenly, you started to feel uneasy. Peeking through the door, you felt your skin crawl as your instinct was proven right.
Hongjoong was there, sitting on the couch in his office. But he wasn’t alone. There was a topless woman straddling him, with his hands wrapped around her waist as she unbuttoned his shirt. You wanted to claw your eyes out because of the sight of Hongjoong with another woman…you were desperately pinching yourself to take away from the pain in your chest. Yeah, you knew he met a lot of women, but to actually see it…it made you feel sick. And that’s when you heard them.
Hongjoong was trying to kiss her when she pulled away with a glare. He sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Jia, that’s not true.”
“Oh, so you mean to tell me you’re not dating Y/N?”
“No, I’m not.”
“Then what is that all about?”
“It’s just another ploy by an ice-cold, money-hungry bitch who is terrified of parting with her money.”
There was silence for a minute before Jia burst out laughing.
You could feel your knees get weaker. That was what he thought of you? That was why he thought you were doing this? You dug your nails into your palms hard, drawing blood.
“I see you still think of her the same way.”
He leaned back lazily.
“Of course. She made Mirae break up with me just because I didn’t come from wealth, like her.”
“So... is this all just to prove something?”
“I mean, it is a massive fuck you to her family’s snobbery, so that’s a plus.”
You couldn’t breathe. All this while, Hongjoong thought that was why you hated him? And he still thought of you the same way? Even after getting to know you? Even after you thought he had worked past it? Even after pretending to care? Everything he was doing was just to prove a point? A ‘fuck you’? All the time you thought you shared something was just that?
And just like that, the way he called you princess made you sick.
You walked away as quietly as you could, eyes screwing shut when you heard the moans behind you. As you walked to your car, you felt this overwhelming weight.
You should have known. You really should have known.
Even as you sat there in your car, trying to calm down before driving, as you told yourself that he was an asshole and it didn’t matter, you knew you were lying. Hongjoong…mattered. And yes, seeing him with another woman hurt, but it was the fact that he thought you hated him because he didn’t come from wealth that killed you. All of a sudden, you were frantically rethinking every interaction with him and trying to see what you did that made him feel that way.
The princess thing, the picnic…it was all just a ‘fuck you’ to your family?
It was nothing new. They all left in the end anyway. Sunwoo? He left. Mirae? She left. Your parents? You laughed. You never even had them in the first place. Why would Hongjoong be any different? You shouldn’t have been surprised. Yet, you were. Because you thought he knew you. You thought you knew him. And most of all, you thought he would stay.
---
Your eyes were listless as you stood in your parent’s living room, sipping on water, deliberately ignoring the obnoxious conversations happening around you. You didn’t even bother looking up every time you heard pointed digs at your love life or pointed nudges about Sunwoo. In fact, if you had been okay, you would have noticed that your mother was unusually warm. But you didn’t.
Her insistence on you coming home for dinner, her warmth, everything…it all fell into place when you saw Sunwoo walk through the front door with a bag of food. He froze when he saw you. Dressed in his old grey hoodie and black puffy jacket from high school, he clearly was not expecting to walk into a family dinner. His wince when he felt your aunt’s nails on his arm gave away the fact that he was very much unhappy about being there. You heard your mom voice out confirmation for what you knew she had orchestrated.
“Oh, Sunwoo! Is that the cake your mom sent?”
“Uh…yes.”
“Sweetie, why don’t you join us for dinner?”
Your mother hugged him and looked up at him in a way that made it clear that it wasn’t a question he could say no to. He could only gulp and nod.
He almost immediately made his way to stand next to you, leaning back against the wall. He tilted his head towards you and smirked. In that moment, a flash of memories flooded you. All those parties where you and Sunwoo would stand like this, quietly whispering and warning each other about potential boring and judgmental adults. He leaned in and conspiratorially whispered,
“They got you too?”
And normally, you would have played along, but you were so tired. You were so done. You were so alone. You simply nodded.
The way Sunwoo turned to you immediately knowing something was wrong was almost frustrating. He knew you well. Too well.
---
An hour later, you were seated next to Sunwoo at the formally laid out dining table. It was always formally laid out. No one was ever there to mess it up. No one ever rushed with warm food and accidentally spilt some over in their enthusiasm. No one ever fought over who got more food. No one ever laughed over the table. It was always cold and isolated. And your family liked it. They liked that it was a house, not a home.
You were forcing yourself to eat the food on your plate, tuning out from the conversation around you when you heard Hongjoong’s name. No one had said anything too direct about him, so immediately, without even meaning to, you started paying attention. It was your father’s brother who started it. Of course.
“Thank god I didn’t have to go to that party by Aurora Mists. That bloody upstart Hongjoong. I don’t think I could have kept a straight face.”
Your gaze stayed down on your soup. No one would have known a thing about how you felt. Except for Sunwoo. He saw your grip on the spoon tighten, and he watched you carefully, knowing you were upset.
You heard another voice chime in. And another. And another. It was too much for you to take in. You could only make out what was said last.
“He makes such a fool of himself. And oh my god, his clothes. They’re so trashy.”
Your voice was quiet when you replied.
“I like his clothes.”
It was so quiet that none of them heard you. No one other than Sunwoo heard you. He reached out to hold your hand, just about managing to comfort you, when you heard your mother sniff.
“His background really shows in his lack of taste.”
You slammed your spoon down, relishing in the stunned silence that followed. Your voice was louder this time around.
“I like his clothes. I like his taste. What’s so wrong about it?”
Your father looked aghast.
“But Y/N, he…”
“What? He what?”
“He doesn’t come from a good background.”
“You mean he can actually earn money without bribing half the politicians in the city?”
You looked around again, daring them to say anything.
“Don’t ever talk about my boyfriend this way again.”
You stood up, the sound of the chair grazing the floor making your mother flinch. It was exhilarating, doing the very thing she rebuked you for all your life. And you walked out of the room.
---
You were standing on your balcony, grateful for the peace of your locked room. You could sneak out down the tree and get away from them. You just needed to stop shaking first.
Subconsciously, you registered the rustling from the tree, but you still jumped when a figure landed on your balcony. You turned towards them, moving away when the figure stepped into the light.
“Relax, it’s me.”
And you did. You did relax the moment you saw it was Sunwoo.
Trying to keep the mood light, you forced a smile.
“You couldn’t knock?”
And for the first time since he got back, you heard him sound angry.
“Don’t.”
“…Don’t what?”
“Don’t pull this bullshit where you act like you’re okay.”
You stared at him in silence, registering what he said. He moved towards the wall and sat down, waiting for you to occupy the spot next to him. You did. He stared at you, finally back to the old Sunwoo you knew, with no filter.
“What’s going on with you and Hongjoong?”
You couldn’t look at him when you answered.
“We were faking being in a relationship to avoid a merger with you.”
Whatever Sunwoo was expecting, it was not that. He blinked twice.
“What?”
“Your family wants to merge companies. I don’t want to. But I’m under family pressure to merge. Hongjoong…he has his reasons.”
Sunwoo just nodded, staying silent. You knew he was waiting for you to continue.
“I caught feelings. And I thought they were mutual. But he hates me. And he thinks I hate him like my family does.”
You turned to look at him, and his heart broke at how tired you looked.
“I can’t do this anymore Sunwoo. I’m so alone.”
His voice had the slightest tremble when he said,
“No. You’re not.”
You couldn’t hold back the biting laughter.
“But I am. I don’t have my family. I don’t have you. You left and you never fucking kept in touch. I don’t have Mirae. And I definitely don’t have Hongjoong, but I was stupid enough to think I did.”
Sunwoo stayed silent for a minute before he turned towards you.
“You know why I was trying for the merger? I couldn’t care less about it. I just thought it might give me a shot with you.”
You turned towards him, confused.
“You know why I was trying to be flirty and suave? Because I was desperately trying to impress you. You want to know why I didn’t keep in touch? Because I panicked.”
He was pale and looked nervous enough to throw up, but determined to continue. Your gaze flickered down to the vein straining against the skin on his neck. He was clearly upset.
“I panicked because I’ve fucking been in love with you ever since I was thirteen. So, no, I’d say you definitely have me.”
His eyes went down to your lips before turning away.
“My parents won’t push it if they see you with Hongjoong, so I’ll make sure they’re there at the next event you attend with him. You don’t have to put yourself through this anymore.”
Your mind was blank. You really couldn’t comprehend what just happened. But you did know Sunwoo was upset and out of reflex, you pulled him in for a hug.
“Sunwoo, I’m sorry, I”-
He hugged you tight, desperately trying to take in every bit of you.
“Y/N, it’s-it’s okay.” He took a shaky breath. “I know you don’t feel that way about me right now. Maybe you will someday. Maybe not. And I swear we can put this behind us. Things will go back to normal, no matter what you feel for me. But '', he looked up at you with feral eyes ``use me. You can use me to get over Hongjoong.” He brought your hands to his chest. “Use me however you want to get over Hongjoong.”
---------------------------------
Copyright © 2020-2022 @severetimetravelnerd All rights reserved.
Any unlawful and unauthorized sharing of these works will result in legal action.
(Reblogs are good :) )
#hongjoong angst#hongjoong fluff#hongjoong x reader#hongjoong x y/n#ateez angst#ateez fluff#hongjoong series#ateez series#idiots to lovers#rivals to lovers#fake dating au#hongjoong scenarios#ateez scenarios#sunwoo angst
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 [𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔]
𝐁𝐨𝐤𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: After a fair share of bad breakups, Y/n L/n had enough of relationships. Until she's paired up with Koutarou Bokuto, for a group project, sadly, all he wants to do is adore her instead of work.
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: college!au, smau, humor, crack, and fluff + slight angst.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒: COMPLETED
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃: 01/4/2021
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: CLOSED
𝐀/𝐍: This smau is heavily inspired by, Harry Styles album Fine Line. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy this!
Profiles!!
Y/n’s Love Club || Bokuto’s Boyz >:)
Chapters
01. Bonnie and Clyde
02. Partners
03. Like A Date?
04. Seems Sus [Written]
05. First Stage Of Grief
06. Sad Playlist
07. He’s Different
08. French Girls[Written]
09. Adorable
10. Rain
11. Ara Ara Gomen
╰➛Special Chapter: Frozen
12. Who is she?
13. Lost
14. Adore You[Written]
15. Top at the red light
16. Confessions
17. Suck on that losers![Written]
18. I love you 420.
19. Epilogue
Memes!!
Y/n and Bokuto’s art
Bokuto: Shawty, have this cake 🥺
Bokuto vibes in Ara Ara Gomen 😔
TAGLIST: @tendo-sxtori @evan-rose @nico-exe-1 @orchid-tea-party @marvel-ing-at-it-all @beancurdbaby @lilsimp @coffeeaddictedmay @galagcica @javj @dumbb1tc4 @mrswhitethornbelikov @navymacaroons @alienvarmint @ghoulgirlradio @volexis @putmeinyourdeathnote @420-uwu @ktzuki @anejuuuuoy @knucklestuff @reina-de-tay
#bokuto koutarou#bokuto x reader#bokuto smau#bokuto koutarou smau#bokuto x y/n#bokuto Kōtarō#hq smau#hq bokuto#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!!#Adore you - smau#b.k Adore you
525 notes
·
View notes
Text
home run; lee minho
The four times you try to ask Lee Minho to the winter formal, and the one time he asks you.
genres: fluff, friends to lovers au, high school au, sports au (baseball player minho!!)
word count: 3.8k
a/n: merry christmas!! this is a christmas collab that i’m doing with my friend alice @jjacob in which we write for each other’s ult biases! (mine is juyeon, so if you’re interested in the boyz, i recommend reading her story here, especially since our storylines are a bit connected!) i had a lot of fun learning more about minho during the writing process, and i hope this story represents him well <333
TRY ONE: KEEP IT SIMPLE.
If there’s anyone in the world who knows Lee Minho better than you do, it’s Lee Juyeon.
The two of them have been joined by the hip for as long as you can remember, and if Minho is the relentless tease, spirited and carefree, Juyeon is the gentle thinker, all sweet smiles and wise words. So that’s how you end up frantically dialing his number at nearly one in the morning, too panicked to consider the possibility of him being asleep. You wait with bated breath as the phone rings once, twice, three times before Juyeon picks up the phone, his breathy laugh greeting you instantly.
“I was waiting for this.”
Juyeon’s words cause you to let out a small noise of surprise, and his chuckle sounds in your ear, a little choppy and distant-sounding due to the poor connection, but bright nevertheless.
“What do you mean you were waiting for this?”
“Silly girl,” Juyeon says, and you can tell he’s grinning despite not being able to see him. “Don’t think I didn’t see you look at him when they announced the dance this morning.”
Your face turns red as you recall the mention of the winter formal during the school announcements and the way your head had immediately turned to Minho’s. You were certain that no one else had noticed the longing upon your face when you looked towards your close friend, but hearing Juyeon now leaves you unsure.
“Was I that obvious?” You groan, burying your face in your hands out of embarrassment.
“I wouldn’t worry that much, it wasn’t too apparent,” Juyeon assures you, and yet the spark of doubt in your mind still lingers.
“You think he knows?” You question as you run your fingers through your hair.
“That you like him? I don’t think he’d get that from just one glance.” Perhaps he’s right, for you know that Juyeon is just naturally more perceptive than others, and the things he picks up on don’t tend to be the same as what others notice.
“I hope you’re right. This isn’t how I wanted him to know,” you groan.
“Oh? So you’re planning on telling him? That’s why you called, right?” You know Juyeon’s teasing you by the tone of his voice, and you resist the temptation to whine at him.
“Help me ask Minho to the dance, Juyeon,” you plead, trying to let every ounce of your desperation show in your tone, praying that his response will be yes. There’s a pause, and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation as you await his next words.
“Well, I can’t exactly ask him for you,” he starts, “but I’ll try to give you some advice.”
“Thank you, Juyeon,” you breathe in relief, switching the call to speaker mode so you can peel it away from your cheek.
“Don’t mention it. First things first, though . . .”
Juyeon trails off without an explanation, and you understand why a few moments later when you catch a flicker of light erupting from your phone out of the corner of your eye. When you lift it up a little higher in your hands, you see that Juyeon has turned his camera on, his face just slightly too close to the camera and his smile filling the screen. You rush to turn yours on as well, switching on a lamp so your face can be seen in the near darkness of the room. After an exchange of waves, Juyeon clears his throat, and even through the blurry quality you catch the blaze in his eyes that suggests he’s gotten idea.
“Y/N, Minho’s at your place right now, isn’t he?” Juyeon asks, and there’s something about his tone that strikes you as a bit too bold for your liking.
“Well, yeah,” you answer hesitantly, “but I think he’s asleep right now.”
“How about you just ask him whenever he’s awake?” Juyeon suggests, and you raise your eyebrows incredulously as you watch him shrug his shoulders like he’s just told you to do the easiest thing in the world.
“Are you insane?” You shriek, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth when you realize how loud you’ve gotten. Juyeon only laughs, his eyes morphing into crescents and his bunny-like smile widening. “You think I should just ask him like that, no preparations or anything?”
“Trust me, Y/N. It’s nice to make things special, but I think that Minho will appreciate your honest confession more than anything else.” Juyeon’s advice is laced with sincerity, and you don’t need to look at his face in the camera to know that he wants the best for you.
“I’m blaming you if things go wrong, Lee Juyeon,” you sigh reluctantly. “But I suppose there’s not really any other way to do it.”
“Give it a try,” he encourages. “I think he’ll like it.”
“Thanks, Juyeon. For picking up so late and for the advice,” you tell him genuinely, and he smiles.
“Anytime, Y/N.”
With that, the two of you hang up, and your head automatically drops to the table to rest in between your arms.
“Just ask him whenever he’s awake,” you mutter to yourself, “How am I supposed to do that? Oh, good morning Minho, breakfast is over there, and by the way, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the winter formal with me?”
The words sound stupid no matter how you say them, and you can’t stop yourself from the feeling of hopelessness that strikes you as you trudge back to the bed where you find Minho laying peacefully on his side. You smile, tilting your head as you watch him for a moment until he suddenly turns over so he’s lying on his back, blinking repeatedly until his eyes focus on you.
“You’re back?” His words are hoarse and followed by a yawn, which you laugh at softly.
“Sorry, Minho, did I keep you up?”
Minho says nothing and instead pats the space beside him on the bed, to which you oblige, instantly climbing in to lay next to him. He inches closer to you, resting his head next to your shoulder and quietly snuggling into your side. Trying to ignore the way your heart has sped up in response to his figure latching onto yours, you recall Juyeon’s words from before, realizing that he’s awake right now, and perhaps you have a chance.
“Minho?” Your voice comes out in a whisper, and you don’t dare to look at him out of fear for your heart.
“Hmm?” Minho’s response is sleepy, slightly muffled from your shoulder but unbelievably soft.
“Are you by any chance going with someone to the winter formal?” You ask hesitantly, squeezing your eyes shut out of embarrassment. Minho makes a small noise of disagreement, and you can feel his head shaking against your side as if in extra confirmation.
A relieved sigh falls from your lips, but your next words get stuck in your throat when you come to the realization of just how scary it is to confess. You can’t stop the swarm of worries that hit you, overcome by the question of whether he doesn’t see you as anything more than a friend, and if asking him to the dance will jeopardize your relationship with him. You know that you can’t hold your feelings in forever, though, and you think of Juyeon’s kind motivation when you say your next words.
“D’you maybe wanna go to the formal together?”
There’s a heavy silence, your question lingering in the air unanswered, and your heart sinks in your chest at the lack of response.
“Minho?” You try again quietly. Dread overtakes you as you guess that perhaps his silence is a form of his rejection, and you can’t help but wonder how you’re going to get yourself out of this one. When you turn on your side to face him, however, you find that he’s already fallen back asleep, light snores emitting from his parted mouth. A small smile creeps up your face as you unconsciously lift your hand to stroke his hair, mindlessly dragging your fingers through the silky strands. He leans into your touch, eyes still closed as he mumbles meaningless words out of fatigue and shifts so he’s closer to you.
Maybe tomorrow, you think to yourself, resting your head on the top of his and letting your eyes fall shut as sleep overtakes you.
TRY TWO: MAKE IT SPECIAL.
Your heart pounds as you tug the door open to the café, peeking inside to find the area mostly empty save for a handful of students at the far end. You thank the heavens for appearing just on time, the familiar sight instantly soothing your nerves. You set the large plastic bag you’d brought along with you on one of the tables, laughing a little as you begin to empty it of its contents one by one.
“Look at you, Y/N,” you mumble to yourself, “bringing this food and getting all dressed up for a man.”
The last item in the bag makes you smile, despite yourself, and you pull out the small box of chocolates that you had bought in the morning, setting it down to complete the collection. You marvel at the assortment of treats you’d gotten for him, shaking your head as you sit down to try and calm yourself from the slight tension of it all. Glancing up to check the time in one of the clocks hung up on the wall, you realize with jittery anticipation that he’ll be arriving soon.
Five minutes pass, and he’s nowhere to be seen.
You think nothing of it until another ten minutes pass, and you begin to wonder what’s holding him up, trying not to let the feeling of unease get to you as you assure yourself that he might just be running a bit late. Your foot begins to tap quietly against the tiled floor, an anxious habit of yours you’d never managed to quite get rid of.
Thirty minutes pass, and you pull your phone out from your side pocket, unlocking it to stare at his contact in part hesitation and part concern.
Should I call him?
You weigh out your options, wondering if you’ll sound too demanding if you call to ask if something’s wrong. However, your phone appears to solve the problem for you, the shrill sound of its ringing interrupting you from your thoughts. You jump at the sudden noise, but accept the call instantly upon seeing the caller ID.
“I was just about to call. Is everything okay?” You ask, and your eyes widen in worry at the sound of Minho panting on the other end.
“Y/N,” he breathes, “I—I’m sorry. Coach is keeping us in an extra hour, and—”
“Slow down, Minho,” you urge, “first catch your breath.”
He hums in agreement, and your face falls when you process his words, realizing the true reason he called. Although you know he’s not the one to blame, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that creeps up inside of you as you glance down at the chocolates and favorite foods of his sitting on the table.
“You’re saying you can’t make it today, right?” The words come out softer than you mean for them to, and Minho sighs regretfully.
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. You know we have that big game coming up tomorrow, and—look, if you want, I can leave practice.” His voice is gentle, apologetic, and tears sting your eyes upon hearing how willing he is to risk getting kicked from the team for you.
“No, you can’t,” you shake your head frantically. “I’m not letting you suffer the consequences of that for something this small. Go have fun, okay? We do this regularly anyways, we can just meet up next time.”
You hear a rustle on his end, followed by the voices of his teammates calling out for him. “Are you sure?” Minho asks, a twinge of concern in his tone.
“I’m sure! Now go, they’re calling you,” you encourage, trying to sound as cheerful as you can to convince him.
It works, to your relief, for Minho’s next words are bright. “You’re a lifesaver, Y/N,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice before he ends the call.
There’s a moment of silence as you look at the goodies once more, before your eyes land upon the box of chocolates, and you pry the lid open to find them already beginning to melt. Reminding yourself that you won’t be seeing him today anyways, and that there’s no use wasting a perfectly good box of chocolates, you pop one of them in your mouth. The corners of your lips tug upwards at the savory taste, and you let out a deep exhale as you remember that you’re not out of ideas just yet.
“More for me, I guess,” you mutter, trying not to lose hope. “On to try three!”
TRY THREE: GO ALL OUT.
The sign leaning against your legs serves as a constant reminder of just how whipped you are for Minho, and at times it amazes even you just how far you’re willing to go for him. Making sure no one else can see it, you take yet another glimpse at the cardboard sign you spent the entirety of last night making, lifting it enough for it to rest in your lap. You stare at the bolded words drawn on the surface in capital letters, surrounded by small designs and stickers in a variety of colors.
I might strike out asking, but will you go to the winter formal with me?
An embarrassed laugh bubbles out of your throat and you find yourself yet again bewildered by the sheer cheesiness of it all. You can’t bring yourself to raise it, however, telling yourself that tensions are too high right now and that you’ll show him later when there’s no potential of the sign distracting him. You set it back down at your feet, and you look past the sea of people to search for Minho in the group of players on the baseball field.
Murmurs of “the score is so close,” “we need a home run to win,” and “we’re gonna lose, aren’t we?” echo around you in the stadium, and your mind immediately flashes back to Minho’s words from before the game.
“If I win, you have to do any one thing that I want for me.”
You had teased him and asked him what he’d do if he lost, but Minho had only shrugged nonchalantly, telling you that he’d do anything you wanted if that was the case.
Looking down at him on the field now, you watch as he readies himself at the batter’s box, and despite the near-impossible chance of him securing the team a win, something about the blaze in his eyes tells you that he won’t be losing today. Just before the pitcher can pitch the ball, he looks up towards the stands, his eyes scanning the crowd to find you. When he does, he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t mouth anything, but somehow through his gaze, you already know exactly what he wants to tell you: he’s going to win.
The pitcher steps forward, raising his leg and leaning back with the ball before he throws it with a single fluid motion. The ball spirals forward towards Minho with immense speed, and you watch breathlessly as he positions himself to hit it. He swings the bat, and a gasp leaves your mouth.
What happens next is a blur, and by the time you can process what’s happening, Minho has already tossed the bat and reached base one. You squint your eyes as you search for the ball, managing to glimpse it right before it falls outside the gates of the field. You cover your mouth with your hands in shock as you look back down to Minho just in time to watch his foot touch the second base.
“He hit it all the way out!” Shouts and exclamations of surprise reverberate around you as the audience rises to its feet eagerly.
Base three.
All attempts to stop him are useless at this point, you realize, for Minho’s already making his way to the final base, his features hardened by determination. Just before he reaches the end, Minho finds you in the crowd once more. His gaze remains locked on yours as he flashes you a small grin, his foot touching the home plate at the exact same moment.
Home run.
For an instant, there’s nothing but dead silence, and then the entire audience erupts into applause, the noise turning almost unbearable as it rings in your ears. The edge of the sign scratches against your leg as you stand up, and you’re reminded of the dance as you impulsively grab hold of the cardboard, getting on top of your seat as you prepare to raise it. When you inspect the field one last time to ensure Minho is still there, you find that he’s lost in the arms of his teammates, all shouting excitedly and clapping him on the back among cheers.
Your shoulders slump as you realize that there’s no way he’ll be able to see your sign with all the ruckus, and you dejectedly get down from your seat, making your way off the stands and exiting the stadium.
As you trudge home, you wonder if you’ll even be able to face him without blushing, let alone ask him to the formal.
TRY FOUR: NO INTERRUPTIONS.
The next time you see Minho, you’re stepping through the open door of Chan’s house, and you’re met with the sight of the entire team laughing recklessly, joking around and shoving each other playfully over a set of pizza boxes. Small decorations and streamers are hung up in colors of red and green to highlight the approach of Christmas, and something about the setting makes you feel delightfully warm. It’s somehow exactly the kind of celebration you imagined, and when you look towards the team once again, you find Minho in the center of all the chatter, just as you always do.
When he catches you standing before them, he freezes, and his gaze morphs into something different, almost hungry, as his eyes slowly trail over your figure from top to bottom. The intensity of his stare seems to burn into you, and you watch in quiet anticipation as he separates himself from the group to walk up to you.
There are no excuses now, you think. No interruptions, no distractions, no reasons to prevent you from asking him.
“‘Come to the celebration party at Chan’s place, and I’ll tell you there,’” you greet, quoting his text from hours before, and Minho smiles sheepishly. “Well, I’m here now. What is it that you want?”
“You look beautiful,” is his response, and your next words are forgotten as your face goes up in flames.
“I’m glad you think so. It took me a long time to find this dress,” you mumble, staring down at your feet to hide your blush.
“I’m not talking about the dress,” Minho says, and your eyes widen as you look back up to search his face. He turns away before you can look too hard, rubbing the back of his neck as his cheeks turn red. “Anyways,” he mumbles, avoiding your eyes, “you told me you wanted to ask me something too, right?”
“You first,” you blurt, still too flustered from his compliment to think straight. Your words, however, are drowned out by a particularly loud screech emitting from the other end of the room, followed by the booming laughter of the rest of the team. Furrowing his brows, Minho cups his ear and leans closer to you, prompting you to repeat the words in his ear. Another series of laughs sounds from the room, and Minho takes your hands in his to bring you to a more empty section of the house.
“Finally,” he breathes when the two of you are safe from disturbances. “I swear, they can get so loud sometimes.”
You giggle at his words. “Tell me what you want for winning,” you urge him, trying to do whatever you can to delay your turn. Minho’s face darkens, and something about the way his gaze turns intense makes your heart race.
“Look up,” he whispers, his hands tightening around yours. You obey, your eyes drifting up as you find yourself staring at what you think could be one of the most beautiful bunches of mistletoe you’ve ever seen, hanging from the ceiling and twinkling under the soft light. You gulp upon realizing its implications, your tongue swiping over your lips out of nervous habit. You look back down to face him, and you find that his expression reflects the same desire he displayed before, his eyes sparkling as the corners of his lips turn up.
“We can’t break tradition, now can we?” He teases, leaning forward just enough for your noses to touch, his lips barely ghosting over yours so you can feel the warmth of his breath upon your face. When you close your eyes, your own lips parting, he closes the distance.
Time seems to freeze in place as his soft lips meet yours, his hands dropping to your waist as his lips move slowly against yours. There’s a passion in his kiss that you’re reciprocating before you even know it, and a slight smile shapes his lips that you can’t help but mirror. He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead on yours for a moment as he catches his breath.
“You have to do any one thing that I want right?” He breathes. “Go to the winter formal with me.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, your eyes flying open in shock and immediately finding his as you soften at the sincerity in his face.
“You mean that?” You murmur, and a smirk graces Minho’s features, one you’ve become so familiar with after countless years of him teasing you.
“’Course I do. That’s what you were gonna ask me too, right?” He raises his eyebrows knowingly. You blink for a moment, tilting your head slightly as you process his words. Then it hits you.
"Juyeon told me I wasn’t being obvious!” You grumble, pouting in dismay.
“Well,” Minho laughs, “I only had a small idea that you liked me. What confirmed it was that sign you made—I might strike out asking, right? I may have gotten a peek at it when you left to get water before the game.”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t look! That’s not fair,” you whine, hitting his shoulder playfully.
“It’s the reason I’m asking you now though, isn’t it? So tell me, Y/N. Will you go to the dance with me?” Minho smiles softly, the light in his eyes is akin to that of the mistletoe berries gleaming above you. You can’t stop your mouth from pulling into a wide grin, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pull him closer to you, letting your lips answer his question as they meet his once more.
LEE MINHO; TRY ONE: SUCCESS!
#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids imagines#stray kids oneshots#stray kids drabbles#stray kids fluff#skz#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz oneshots#skz drabbles#skz x reader#skz fluff#stray kids minho#skz minho#lee minho#minho#minho scenarios#minho imagines#minho drabbles#minho fluff
492 notes
·
View notes
Text
inspired by the ocean, shawna, and virginia woolf.
wc: 1.4k ~ sunwoo x gender neutral!reader ~ slice of life!au ~ triggers: none ~ the boyz masterlist ~ hongjoong (ateez) version (NOT PLAGIARIZED)
[ 7:14 pm: oceans burn in your eyes ] There’s a careful line on the beach, drawn by the ocean, that separates soft, shifting powder from an expanse of dark sand, wet from the waves. Sunwoo crosses that divide, mixing pale dust with damp earth, footprints marking his path in sand cool with the water of the previous high tide.
An orange sun sinks on the horizon, casting warm light over the ocean. Where blue and green used to reign supreme, the waters now burn purple and orange and red, reflecting the sky, and Sunwoo marvels at the change in color as he sits on the wet sand. Part of him knows he’ll have to wash his clothes after this, which won’t be fun, but with the sea breeze ruffling his hair and water pooling around his feet, Sunwoo can’t find it in himself to care.
Waves roll around his body, soaking his already damp shorts and a bit of his shirt as well. They tug him forward lightly, almost playfully, water pulling at the fabric of his pants as it swirls the sand and shells around his sitting figure. If the ocean so wanted, it could swallow Sunwoo whole, dragging him into the dark depths until he sank to the bottom, and if it did, honestly, in this moment, he might not even fight. A certain beauty lies in the dangers beneath the water’s surface, in the way its waves can crash and fight, and what could Sunwoo do but accept it if it came? Right now, though, the waves choose to lay that beauty aside in favor of a calmer sparkle, cheerfully splashing Sunwoo’s feet and soaking the hems of his clothes. It almost makes him smile.
Push and pull, thrust and tug. Sunwoo watches the movement of the waves, listens to the music of its rhythm. Some people paint. Others compose. Sunwoo only does the latter, but from his experience, try as he might, he could never capture nature’s raw beauty on canvas or in a melody – some things, he knows, are meant only to be experienced in person, firsthand. The beauty of creation doesn’t lie in copying the natural world. It lies in observation, inspiration, drawing on what the senses collect to make something different. Something new.
Sunwoo pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, temporarily blocking out the world. If he could just find that inspiration right now…
But no. He didn’t come to the water’s edge to make a track or paint a canvas. He didn’t come to stoke the flame that had already burned too bright. He came to escape if only for a moment, to lose himself in the gentle tug of the ocean waves.
It isn’t hard. Sunwoo brings his knees to his chest, feet digging into the sand as he wraps his arms around his legs, chin resting on top. His eyes close against the burning of the sun, against orange that lights the purple ocean aflame, but it’s okay because he can still see the image splashed across the backs of his eyelids, purple fire on sparkling water fueled by the setting sun behind. It makes him feel a little warmer even as the sea wind flutters by his skin, tugging gently at his clothes and hair.
The tug of the breeze, the tug of the sea. The salty wind is pleasant, to be sure, but Sunwoo leans into it less than he leans into the water pooling around his body. They’re different – air is fickle, ever shifting in one direction or the other and sometimes not blowing at all, but while the ocean may not be as dependable as the solid earth, it never ceases its swirls of push and pull, and Sunwoo likes it. Appreciates it. Might surrender himself to it, even, if only he didn’t have so much fire burning within.
Fire or water. Given the choice, Sunwoo would choose the former, always, even if it burned too bright and scorched him, because without the flame that burns in his heart and fuels his existence, he wouldn’t be alive. Someone like Jacob might choose water – his existence is steady and he knows the constant push and pull, knows when to smother and when to step back. Even more than that, he has the teasing playfulness of the little splashes that nip at Sunwoo’s feet. Sunwoo is different, though. He needs the flame, needs the fire, needs the orange sun burning in the distance – the waves are not enough to soothe him fully, after all.
But a fire cannot burn forever. Sometimes it must die down to glowing coals, to ashes that flutter away in the capricious wind. Sunwoo’s eyes stay shut, a fiery sun still painted across the black wall of his vision, but the waves hum and sing in his ears, caressing his skin and patiently dousing the long-burning flame in his heart, bit by bit, until all that remains are embers waiting to be stoked once more, sometime in the future, but not now. Not yet. Not when the ocean has yet to fully soothe the previous burn.
Give it time. Give it time. Sunwoo sighs, relaxation finally settling his shoulders, previously held tight to his ears. Give it time. Give it time.
The ocean will heal you.
Lost in the waves, Sunwoo doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, the soft pitter patter of bare feet on the sand. Only when he opens his eyes does he even sense the presence for the first time. It’s familiar, familiar in a way that lifts the corners of his lips even when the waves themselves couldn’t manage.
Sunwoo gets the idea that you’ve been standing there a lot longer than he thinks, but somehow, you still know exactly when to speak. He can almost hear the smile in your voice.
“I thought you might be here.”
Sunwoo turns around then, and the sight, even more so than the burning waves, takes his breath away.
You stand not against the sun but in its rays, golden orange light bathing your eyes, your smile, the hand you extend to help him up. It casts a halo around your figure that Sunwoo wishes he could paint, if only he had the ability. He tries to memorize the vision, but even if he could remember every detail perfectly, Sunwoo knows it still wouldn’t be the perfect picture that he sees now, hand held out like an angel to bring him back to earth.
Your fingers wiggle teasingly, one eyebrow rising with the gesture. Sunwoo takes your hand, letting your fluttering fingers pull him up, steady and strong unlike the waves that push and pull, rhythmic but wavering, beautiful but unsure, nothing like the certainty of your hand wrapped around his.
Certainty was what Sunwoo wanted to escape – deadlines for new tracks, commissions for lyrics. The flame of determination had grown too large, scorching his heart, and in the moment, alone, he had no one to ease the burn besides the undulating waves at the beach’s edge.
Now, though, he has your hand, warm against skin cooled by the breeze and wet sand. Your touch doesn’t burn like the sun does, even as you glow in its setting rays – you are warm, yes, but warm in a way that stokes the glowing embers of the fire within, gently fanning the flames until they come alive once more, burning cheerfully with a subtle heat that Sunwoo can handle.
Sunwoo doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand. Your unruffled appearance tells him you weren’t worried, anyway – you knew just where to find him. So he only smiles, squeezing your hand in thanks after you tangle your fingers with his, warmth soaking into every crevice of his skin. “Ready to go home?” you ask.
It isn’t home, the little beachfront inn where you two have stayed for several nights already. Home in the physical sense is far away, back in the city. But Sunwoo doesn’t correct you, because he knows what you mean – that home for you is wherever he is, and home for him is wherever you are.
The ocean is an escape, a pleasant one that douses his fire when it grows too intense, soothing it with its rhythmic crash, the push and pull of its waves. But you are home, where the hearth lies, gentle flames tickling the embers and ashes of Sunwoo’s heart until it is ready to burn again.
Sunwoo’s smile widens as he nods. “Yeah,” he says, lost in the sparkle of your eyes. An ocean dances in them, flames leaping above the water, a mirror of the scene behind him – only more beautiful, because it’s you. “Let’s go home.”
If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3
(1 reblog = 1 hug for Sunwoo because he deserves all the hugs :D and then maybe punch him in the shoulder bc he’s a shit)
#tbznetwork#destinyverse#kpopscape#the boyz#tbz#sunwoo#kim sunwoo#the boyz sunwoo#the boyz scenarios#tbz scenarios#the boyz imagines#the boyz oneshots#the boyz sunwoo scenarios#the boyz sunwoo oneshots#the boyz sunwoo imagines#the boyz x reader#tbz x reader#the boyz sunwoo x reader#sunwoo x reader#kim sunwoo x reader#fluff#slice of life!au#oceans burn in your eyes#scriptura-delirus
83 notes
·
View notes
Text
About Me: Eden!
⇣Below cut⇣
Name: Eden Quinn (you can refer to me as just "eden".)
Age: 24
Line: 99' baby
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Pronouns: She/Her
My timezone: EST/EDT (i will be going off that time zone w/ my updates.)
Q: How long have you been Army?
A: July 6, 2020 was the day I became army (I know I haven't been here for a very long time but I am quite active and have surrounded myself with some good people so I know my way around this fandom a bit.)
.
Q: Do you stan other groups?
A: Stan? yes, I started stanning Seventeen at the beginning of February 2023, Ateez at the beginning of June 2023, and The Boyz at the beginning of September 2023. I have looked into Stray Kids, P1Harmony, and TXT but right now I'm just a casual fan of them. I do follow some western artist though. I follow...Megan Thee Stallion, Måneskin, Doechii, Sabrina Carpenter currently.
.
Q: BTS Bias Line?
A: Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Jeon Jungkook but I am OT7.
.
Q: SVT Bias Line?
A: Scoups, Wonwoo, & Dokyeom (..it keeps growing..it’s gonna be eventually all 13 I know it) also I am OT13
.
Q: Ateez Bias Line?
A: Hongjoong, Mingi, & Yunho (why do i always bias in threes??) you know it...OT8
.
Q: TBZ Bias Line?
A: Sangyeon, Eric, Jacob (i basically bias them all but these three occupy my mind the most)..so definitely OT11 (i'm sorry i haven't looked into hyunjun yet)
.
Q: Fav Ship?
A: Tbh..them all? I love all the pairings. Outside of fan FICTION I do see them platonically though.
Q: What's your Big 3 in your chart? (Astrology)
A: Sun - Scorpio, Moon - Libra, Rising - Cancer
.
Q: MBTI?
A: I switch between ENFP and INFP
.
Q: Enneagram?
A: 4w3
.
Q: Are you a Student?
A: I went to Uni for 3 years where I studied Visual Arts and Psychology but I dropped out during the pandemic. I still love to create but mostly this blog lets me get that pint up creative energy out. (update: I am getting ready to go back to school soon! )
.
Q: Do you work?
A: Yes! I do have a paying job irl aside from writing, creating, and just keeping up with seventeen, ateez, the boyz, & bangtan.
Q: New to Tumblr?
A: No, I have been on tumblr since..maybe 2013? I have had a few different accounts over the years. This account was originally a Marvel Stan Account. I have gotten into a number of things over the years also, so please don't scroll too deep.
.
Q: Have you written fics before?
A: Not like this no. I have written little concepts and drafts before when I was younger but never posted them (thank god). I started posting on here because when I was messing around w/ my army friends I would write these drabbles/rants and they weren't bad. So I decided I would actually start posting some of them here? I honestly haven't posted any of my good stuff because I keep going back and adding to them or redrafting.
.
Q: Do you have an A03 account?
A: Yes! but I currently haven't uploaded there yet. If my posts go well over here on tumblr I might start uploading on A03. BUT that will probably be more AUs and Full Fledged Fics rather than drabbles.
.
Q: Main social media you use?
A: 20+ Adult Army/Carat/Atiny/Deobi Twitter. I range from semi-active to basically only interacting with moots. Somedays I just like tweets, others I tweet a good bit but overall I don't really use other social media consistently.
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
fanfic writers tag game !
tagged by: the lovely @moonieric, thank you!! 💛 i’m excited to keep getting to know you better! and thank you @uwu0clock too, my dear 🌷
1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?
soooo many i’m pretty sure the first fan fiction i ever wrote was for the hunger games lol. then i wrote for one direction, 5sos, harry potter, marvel, the maze runner, narnia, teen wolf, supernatural, the 100, riverdale (don’t judge me season 1 was good) & probably more that i can’t think of right now
2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?
a few!! the boyz, golden child, victon, tomorrow x together, ateez, cix, nct, seventeen & stray kids are what i have works up for
but i’m planning some things for enhypen and a few other groups at the moment too 👀
3. how long have you been writing?
ever since i learned how to write letters and words!!
i have a folder of all the stories i used to write when i was like four years old, i think i’ve gotten a bit better since then though lol
4. on which platforms do you post your stories
i only post my current works on tumblr, but back in the day i used to have thousands and thousands of notes on wattpad and quotev
not that my writing deserved it though, that was just the age of terribly written fanfic going viral al the time 😂
5. what is your favorite genre to write?
i like to write mostly fluffy things, but i really like having realistic angst, if that makes sense?? not necessarily something that will break your heart into pieces but something that i think would be normal to experience in love and life
i’d like to get better at writing mystery/action though! those are big struggles for me
6. are you a pantser or a planner?
1000000% planner, especially for social media aus!! i plan every single chapter of a social media au before i post the first chapter, and then i plan every post of the chapter as i go
sometimes i’m a bit of a pantser for written fics if i only have a vague idea and i want to let my mind wander, so i just start writing and see what happens
7. one-shot or multi-chapter?
i personally prefer writing a very long one-shot over multiple chapters, but i have yet to actually post written fics with many chapters on this blog
so who knows? i’ll have to try and see!
8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?
quality over quantity!! the perfect chapter length is specific to every piece
sometimes i feel more proud of and satisfied with a quick drabble or time stamp than a fic with 8k words! it always depends
9. what is your longest published story?
oh back in the day i was posting multiple chapters of 6k words to my fics on quotev every day, so probably around 120k words?
like i said, quality over quantity, though. i definitively included way too many details, like the characters skincare routine and such lmao
here on tumblr my longest fic is he loves me, he loves me not which is my tomorrow x together’s soobin x reader fic with 9.9k words! it’s also the best friends to lovers fic i think i’ve written on this blog, and i’m really proud of it 😌
10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?
i’ve really enjoyed working on and they were roommates! my the boyz’s jacob x reader social media au. the concept is really fun and the characters are really dynamic, so every chapter i write is enjoyable for me!
11. favorite request you’ve written and why?
again, my soobin x reader fic he loves me, he loves me not. i accepted 20 requests once and i think i only fulfilled about 2 or 3, unfortunately. that experience made me realise how bad requests are for my mental health and writing in general!
that fic is my favourite because a friend of mine actually requested it since we had been talking about this concept but i had never written for txt before so i was too shy to start. and also because i think i did a good job, tbh 💗
12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?
i don’t think so? i write a lot about people who have controlling parents in some of my stories, but not all of them. most of it is from experience with my mum, others are just to add more drama to the plot
13. current number of wips?
before my hiatus i had about 6 fics that i was working on! during my writing hiatus now, i actually have been getting a lot of inspiration through travelling and spending time with my boyfriend. so i think it’s double that by now!!
14. three things you have noticed about your writing?
i describe the way in which people say things a lot, such as the tone or the action they do before/during/after dialogue
gotta have a bit of comic relief if possible
strong and supportive friends are a must!!
15. a quote you like from a published story?
‘ “And if we get heartbroken?” you asked quietly.
Juyeon cocked his head to the side, his familiar eye-smile appearing as he realised you felt the same as him. “Then at least I know that I loved you.” ’ – from my the boyz juyeon x reader fic splash!
wrote this based on what my boyfriend said, almost verbatim, when i agreed to date him bc i was afraid of getting my heart broken. that’s why it’s special to me 🥰
16. a quote from an unpublished story?
ahhhh i don’t have my laptop on me right now so i don’t have any of my wips up!! i’ll try to edit this to add a quote when i have it
17. space for you to say something to your readers~~
i don’t think any of you will ever know how much it means that you’ve given me a platform to share my writing on, as well as constantly giving me love and support here on my blog. you have turned me timidly writing in my bedroom alone to something i can do and share with a community. thank you all so much 💗🌟
tagging: @timextoxhajima @junjungsunwoo @lsangyeons @stealerz @kwanisms @xfirebenderx @softforqiankun 💛
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
Interview Tag 📝
I was tagged by @ggukkieland -- read her post here!
Rules: answer questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better!
Name/Nickname: Cheryl (eep I don’t think I’ve ever shared that here before!)
Pronouns: she/her
Star Sign: Textbook Aries
Height: 5′ 5″ / 165 cm
Time Currently: I started writing this at 1:54 AM, but who knows when I’ll post it
When is Your Birthday: March 25
Favourite Band/Groups: (by no means an exhaustive list) BTS, The Bee Gees, Boyz II Men, Death Cab for Cutie, Lake Street Dive, Mates of State, Metric, all the Motown groups, Postal Service, Stars, Thao and the Get Down Stay Down, Vampire Weekend, Yeah Yeah Yeahs
Favourite Solo Artists: (by no means an exhaustive list) Adele, Amy Winehouse, Ari Lennox, Ariana Grande, Bic Runga, Basil Valdez, Beyonce, Childish Gambino, Dolly Parton, Joji, Julie London, Lizzo, Mariah Carey, Mitski, NIKI, Nina Simone, Raveena, Sara Bareilles, Sharon Cuneta, Stevie Wonder, SZA, Whitney Houston
Song Stuck in Your Head: Square Peg by Eva Noblezada
Last Movie You Watched: Yellow Rose, which features the song Square Peg, which is partially why it’s stuck in my head (it’s also just a beautiful song!)
Last Show You Binged: Fully? The latest season of The Crown. First few episodes? Hulu’s reboot of Animaniacs lol -- I AM CULTURED
When You Created Your Blog: Mid-2020, but I’d had so many blogs before then
Last Thing You Googled: Quadruple-checking the spelling of “syncopation” out of anxiety lol
Other Blogs: N/A
Why I Chose My URL: Bon Voyage, Noona is the title of the first fic I started writing, based on BTS’s Bon Voyage shows
Do You Get Asks: Sometimes, and they’re always a blast! Feel free to send me more!
How Many People Are You Following: 357
How Many Followers Do You Have: 223, and I’m excited and grateful!
Average Hours of Sleep: 7-8 hours
Lucky Numbers: 3, 25
Instruments: Oboe, guitar, piano, and mallet percussion instruments (xylophone, vibraphone, marimba, bells, etc. -- I was a band kid!)
What I’m Currently Wearing: Shorts and my Notorious RBG sweater
Dream Job: Musician or TV writer (hence, The Road to You). Fun fact: I used to blog and write under the name calmdowncheryl, and I wrote 4 spec scripts for The Mindy Project. People seemed to dig them!
Dream Trip: This always changes, but right now, Italy
Favorite Food: Filipino, Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean, Italian, Jamaican, Tex-Mex
Favorite Song: This is an impossible question to answer, but my favorite current song is Kick it to Me by Sammy Rae
Top Three Fictional Universes You’d Like To Live In: Can I count my BTS fic AUs as one? If so, then add the Harry Potter Universe, and the Marvel Universe.
Tagging if you’re interested!: @purplehearts1996 @hobicomeholla29 @jooniesdimplesworld @mariana-mmtz @shyfoxarbiter16 @kittycuptea@btseditsworld @greezenini @missbickerbocker @adventuresinwonderlust @min-yus @dearbambideer @aliceollormusic @koochiekoo @tangledsparkles
@daydreamqueenjaycee @iron-sass @bangtaened-army @thisisval @notindisguise
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
10. On URLs.
✨ @escapedartgeek. meme. still accepting!
if-i-see-something-like-this has followed me then i am going to cupid shuffle, two step, dougie, stanky leg, electric slide, hustle, tush push, hodown throwdown, cha cha slide, macarena, baltimore good foot, friday hustle, juke joint jump, new orleans two-step, sha-ron, dem boyz, sugarfoot, boot scoot boogie, and rock the man in the boat on outta sight and disappear into a soft block.
im also kinda >_> at pronounverb or pronounanything kind of urls because i kno im gonna get met with a mobile only blog with overly formatted text posts, 20 x 20 icons with a crispy psd, a google doc i can barely read, and harry potter + marvel aus.
#( 🌙 OOC! RULER OF THE VOLCANIC DIAMOND PLANET. ✨ )#/ i will achy breaky heart on OUTTA there!!#escapedartgeek
1 note
·
View note
Text
Updates and hermit mode again
Yup, I’ve been in hermit mode again for a few reasons. Mostly, it’s that I’ve been busy and tired (but not sick so yay for that!) I’ve still been working on projects in short bursts whenever I have the time/energy but it’s all been going pretty slow and has mostly been crafty stuff rather than art.
As for writing, I have a fair amount of draft written for the next chapter of The Man Downstairs but it probably won’t be ready to post for a few more days. It’s going to be a rather Soos-centric chapter this time. Basically, this AU’s parallel of Blendin’s Game is going to be shuffled between Carpet Diem and Boyz Crazy to fit Soos’s birthday into the timeline for the appropriate date. I have a feeling a certain demon who’s getting a little impatient with his other pawns will be poking around in his dreams in this next chapter. ;)
Anyway, I have also been trying to prioritize consuming media a bit more lately (vs almost not at all for the past few years) which has been nice. I’ve caught up on a few shows (Hilda, The Good Place, She-Ra, 3Below, The Dragon Prince, the Marvel movies Netflix currently has available, and I’m currently catching up on the Tangled series, to name a few), casually played some mobile games, and I’ve even been trying to regain my focus for reading novels again (still a little wobbly but better than it has been). Nothing has struck me as the next big thing to obsess over but I’ve definitely enjoyed and appreciated it all.
Ha... honestly I feel like this is a weird cocoon stage, like I need to just hide for a while and gather energy then come back with hopefully some new inspiration...
#updates#mo's rambling and such#there is a lot going on in life right now but I'm trying not to let it get me down#it's not like things are terrible#there's still good and all#but just some things weighing heavy on my mind#inevitable changes that will be drastic when they happen but who knows when they will#and having no idea what to do when it eventually does happen#It will be tough but I do have ideas for things to eventually and hopefully get better#though I struggle with wondering if I'll be alone as I get older#It's tough to not see past failures as a forecast for the future and all#the man downstairs#the man downstairs fic#the man downstairs au
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
20 Questions
I was tagged by @magicshmoop teeher
Rules: answer 20 questions
Nickname: juco, dong lau, djcookiekrums, jj, jen, idiot
Gender: female
Zodiac: libra
Time: 9:18
Birthday: oct 12 (day before jimins :P)
Favorite Groups: BTS, GOT7, Blackpink, Seventeen, EXO, Mamamoo, Twice, IKON, Shinee, Boyz ll Men, New Edition, TLC, many many more i don’t remember
Favorite Solo Singers: Eric Nam, Dean, Chungha, Eddy Kim, Amber Liu, IU, Ailee, Ariana Grande, Charlie Puth (i still don’t like him but i like his music SKFKEKFLF), Bruno Mars, Daniel Caesar, H.E.R , Khalid, Kehlani, Jhene Aiko, also more i dont remember
Song Stuck In Your Head: Lucid Dreams by Juice Wrld and the whole scorpion album tbhhh, Jump-BTS for some reason too HAHA
Last Movie Watched: HSM 3
Last TV Show: 13 Reasons Why (season 1 if ur curious lol)
Why did you create this blog: that’s a very good question that I don’t know the answer to
What do you post: Fanfics I write, drabbles, one shots, fake texts, hopefully social media aus in the future
Last thing you googled: Mario Badescu Spray
Other blogs: @blr-bitches
Lucky number: 1, 21
Why the URL: ummmm it was a very stupid joke that me and basically everyone who knows me just knows it’s a nickname for an even longer name that i’ll keep enclosed to myself tyvm ;)
I Follow: 400+ blogs (im in too many fandoms let me be)
Followers: 220 i think
Instruments: saxophone, ukulele, piano-ish (taking classes for 2 years didnt do anything lol)
I tag @jingularityy @pearl-jean @marvel-kpop @kpopsdyke @danijdean @rvelevet @airthegreat @zoeeleenicolexx @poisondaisies @namddaaeng
MASTERLIST
#bangtan#bts#beyond the scene#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts imagines#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#bts gif#bts crack#paalam suckas
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Propertyofpoeandbucky's Writing Challenge
Rules:
Must be reader-inserts only
Smut is okay. Just put a warning.
Can be for any character in Marvel, Star Wars, and Game of Thrones.
No underage character smut (side-eyes Holland!Peter Parker. HE'S 15. DON'T WRITE SMUT FOR A CHILD.)
Must tag my blog @propertyofpoeandbucky and use the hashtag #iyllaswritingchallenge
Send me the number and two other backups just in case the other ones are taken.
You can use any of the lyrics from the song or have the fic based off the song as a whole.
AUS ARE TOOOOTTALLY WELCOME!!
DEADLINE: Halloween/October 31st
Prompts
Back at One - Brian McKnight
Does He Know? - One Direction @agentpeggicarter
I See the Light - Tangled @realnighttiger
A Lovely Night - La La Land @kboogie09
That’s What I Like - Bruno Mars
All I Ask of You - Phantom of the Opera @kjs-s
T-Shirt - Destiny’s Child
Eye to Eye - Tevin Campbell
One Chance - Albert Posis
Rose Colored Boy - Paramore @cobalt-one
Classic - MKTO @who-the-hell-is-seb-stan
Demons - Imagine Dragons @buckthegump
Believer - Imagine Dragons @xawesomeangel
How Will I Know - Whitney Houston @just-some-drabbles
The Way You Look Tonight - Frank Sinatra @lenina-phasma
Feelin’ Good - Michael Bublé @canonandme
Nobody Love - Tori Kelly
Ladies Choice - Hairspray movie
Can’t Sleep Love - Pentatonix @wolfofbluestardust
The Sweetest Sounds - Cinderella 1997 @meganlpie
Finally Falling - Victoria Justice & Avan Jogia
Evermore - Beauty and the Beast 2017 @lauxeyson
Partition - Beyonce
Rude - Magic!
Lay All Your Love - Mama Mia movie @iwillbeinmynest
In My Life/Heart Full of Love - Les Mis movie @chaosinacoffeecup
Positive - Legally Blonde: The Musical
Hopelessly Devoted to You - Grease @who-the-hell-is-seb-stan
What is this Feeling? - Wicked
On Bended Knee - Boyz II Men
If you have any questions, feel free to ask!!!
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
inspired by the ocean, shawna, and virginia woolf.
wc: 1.4k ~ hongjoong x gender neutral!reader ~ slice of life!au ~ triggers: none ~ ateez masterlist ~ sunwoo (the boyz) version (NOT PLAGIARIZED)
[ 7:14 pm: oceans burn in your eyes ] There’s a careful line on the beach, drawn by the ocean, that separates soft, shifting powder from an expanse of dark sand, wet from the waves. Hongjoong crosses that divide, mixing pale dust with damp earth, footprints marking his path in sand cool with the water of the previous high tide.
An orange sun sinks on the horizon, casting warm light over the ocean. Where blue and green used to reign supreme, the waters now burn purple and orange and red, reflecting the sky, and Hongjoong marvels at the change in color as he sits on the wet sand. Part of him knows he’ll have to wash his clothes after this, which won’t be fun, but with the sea breeze ruffling his hair and water pooling around his feet, Hongjoong can’t find it in himself to care.
Waves roll around his body, soaking his already damp shorts and a bit of his shirt as well. They tug him forward lightly, almost playfully, water pulling at the fabric of his pants as it swirls the sand and shells around his sitting figure. If the ocean so wanted, it could swallow Hongjoong whole, dragging him into the dark depths until he sank to the bottom, and if it did, honestly, in this moment, he might not even fight. A certain beauty lies in the dangers beneath the water’s surface, in the way its waves can crash and fight, and what could Hongjoong do but accept it if it came? Right now, though, the waves choose to lay that beauty aside in favor of a calmer sparkle, cheerfully splashing Hongjoong’s feet and soaking the hems of his clothes. It almost makes him smile.
Push and pull, thrust and tug. Hongjoong watches the movement of the waves, listens to the music of its rhythm. Some people paint. Others compose. Hongjoong happens to do both, and from his experience, try as he might, he could never capture nature’s raw beauty on canvas or in a melody – some things, he knows, are meant only to be experienced in person, firsthand. The beauty of creation doesn’t lie in copying the natural world. It lies in observation, inspiration, drawing on what the senses collect to make something different. Something new.
Hongjoong pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, temporarily blocking out the world. If he could just find that inspiration right now…
But no. He didn’t come to the water’s edge to make a track or paint a canvas. He didn’t come to stoke the flame that had already burned too bright. He came to escape if only for a moment, to lose himself in the gentle tug of the ocean waves.
It isn’t hard. Hongjoong brings his knees to his chest, feet digging into the sand as he wraps his arms around his legs, chin resting on top. His eyes close against the burning of the sun, against orange that lights the purple ocean aflame, but it’s okay because he can still see the image splashed across the backs of his eyelids, purple fire on sparkling water fueled by the setting sun behind. It makes him feel a little warmer even as the sea wind flutters by his skin, tugging gently at his clothes and hair.
The tug of the breeze, the tug of the sea. The salty wind is pleasant, to be sure, but Hongjoong leans into it less than he leans into the water pooling around his body. They’re different – air is fickle, ever shifting in one direction or the other and sometimes not blowing at all, but while the ocean may not be as dependable as the solid earth, it never ceases its swirls of push and pull, and Hongjoong likes it. Appreciates it. Might surrender himself to it, even, if only he didn’t have so much fire burning within.
Fire or water. Given the choice, Hongjoong would choose the former, always, even if it burned too bright and scorched him, because without the flame that burns in his heart and fuels his existence, he wouldn’t be alive. Someone like Seonghwa might choose water – his existence is steady and he knows the constant push and pull, knows when to smother and when to step back. Even more than that, he has the teasing playfulness of the little splashes that nip at Hongjoong’s feet. Hongjoong is different, though. He needs the flame, needs the fire, needs the orange sun burning in the distance – the waves are not enough to soothe him fully, after all.
But a fire cannot burn forever. Sometimes it must die down to glowing coals, to ashes that flutter away in the capricious wind. Hongjoong’s eyes stay shut, a fiery sun still painted across the black wall of his vision, but the waves hum and sing in his ears, caressing his skin and patiently dousing the long-burning flame in his heart, bit by bit, until all that remains are embers waiting to be stoked once more, sometime in the future, but not now. Not yet. Not when the ocean has yet to fully soothe the previous burn.
Give it time. Give it time. Hongjoong sighs, relaxation finally settling his shoulders, previously held tight to his ears. Give it time. Give it time.
The ocean will heal you.
Lost in the waves, Hongjoong doesn’t hear the footsteps behind him, the soft pitter patter of bare feet on the sand. Only when he opens his eyes does he even sense the presence for the first time. It’s familiar, familiar in a way that lifts the corners of his lips even when the waves themselves couldn’t manage.
Hongjoong gets the idea that you’ve been standing there a lot longer than he thinks, but somehow, you still know exactly when to speak. He can almost hear the smile in your voice.
“I thought you might be here.”
Hongjoong turns around then, and the sight, even more so than the burning waves, takes his breath away.
You stand not against the sun but in its rays, golden orange light bathing your eyes, your smile, the hand you extend to help him up. It casts a halo around your figure that Hongjoong wishes he could paint, if only he had his canvas and brushes with him right now. He tries to memorize the vision, but even if he could remember every detail perfectly, Hongjoong knows he wouldn’t be able to fully recreate the picture of you, hand held out like an angel to bring him back to earth.
Your fingers wiggle teasingly, one eyebrow rising with the gesture. Hongjoong takes your hand, letting your fluttering fingers pull him up, steady and strong unlike the waves that push and pull, rhythmic but wavering, beautiful but unsure, nothing like the certainty of your hand wrapped around his.
Certainty was what Hongjoong wanted to escape – deadlines for new tracks, commissions for art. The flame of determination had grown too large, scorching his heart, and in the moment, alone, he had no one to ease the burn besides the undulating waves at the beach’s edge.
Now, though, he has your hand, warm against skin cooled by the breeze and wet sand. Your touch doesn’t burn like the sun does, even as you glow in its setting rays – you are warm, yes, but warm in a way that stokes the glowing embers of the fire within, gently fanning the flames until they come alive once more, burning cheerfully with a subtle heat that Hongjoong can handle.
Hongjoong doesn’t need to say anything for you to understand. Your unruffled appearance tells him you weren’t worried, anyway – you knew just where to find him. So he only smiles, squeezing your hand in thanks after you tangle your fingers with his, warmth soaking into every crevice of his skin. “Ready to go home?” you ask.
It isn’t home, the little beachfront inn where you two have stayed for several nights already. Home in the physical sense is far away, back in the city. But Hongjoong doesn’t correct you, because he knows what you mean – that home for you is wherever he is, and home for him is wherever you are.
The ocean is an escape, a pleasant one that douses his fire when it grows too intense, soothing it with its rhythmic crash, the push and pull of its waves. But you are home, where the hearth lies, gentle flames tickling the embers and ashes of Hongjoong’s heart until it is ready to burn again.
Hongjoong’s smile widens as he nods. “Yeah,” he says, lost in the sparkle of your eyes. An ocean dances in them, flames leaping above the water, a mirror of the scene behind him – only more beautiful, because it’s you. “Let’s go home.”
If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3
(1 reblog = 1 hug for Hongjoong because he deserves all the hugs :D)
#destinyverse#kpopscape#ateez#atz#hongjoong#kim hongjoong#ateez hongjoong#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez oneshots#ateez hongjoong scenarios#ateez hongjoong oneshots#ateez hongjoong imagines#ateez x reader#ateez hongjoong x reader#hongjoong x reader#kim hongjoong x reader#fluff#slice of life!au#oceans burn in your eyes#scriptura-delirus
50 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
anewgeneraldinosaur
Your New and Improved Dinosaur
chaotic-theatrical-weaver
chaotic-theatrical-weaver
distributorabonayam
Untitled
mysweetblog-juliet
Juliet ♥
opanchu
poster boy, poster girl ★