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hcuyk · 10 days

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OUR INFERNO | CHAPTER ONE

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

PAIRING ✧ rival!hyunjae x fem!reader

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

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

WORD COUNT ✧ 19k

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

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

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

THE BOYZ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION

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

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

“Genuine question.”

“Shoot.”

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

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

“Well, he is your boss.”

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

“Emphasis on the student,” you clarified.

“Emphasis on the executive, Y/N.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well yeah, but the—”

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

“That’s just how-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You.”

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

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m complaining,” Kevin muttered.

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

“You’re not scared of me?”

And you keep falling for the bait.

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

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

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

“And who exactly is ‘us,’ babe?”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t call me that–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Get a room—!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And apparently horny too.”

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

“Hello? I’m still here.”

“Look at that. He already misses me.”

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

“Ew.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Now why the hell do you think—”

“Zip it.”

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

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

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

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

“That you want me,” he replied nonchalantly.

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

“You can’t be serious.”

Hyunjae, who also stopped with your steps, shrugged.

“You’re the one in denial.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It was a mistake, okay?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re still with him??”

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

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

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

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

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

“Again, none of your fucking business–”

“And I’m pretty sure I saw—”

“I am not going to repeat myself-”

“Can’t you just listen to what I-”

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

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

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

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

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

“He isn’t someone worth fighting for.”

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

“It isn’t right—”

“Stay in your fucking lane, Jae.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And with that, you left.

Kevin apologized to you the morning after.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yet it all felt so different.

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

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

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

Then you would never have to see him in college.

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

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

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

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

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

He knew when to stop.

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

“Hyunjae isn’t here today.”

“Huh?”

“Didn’t show up for a single class.”

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

“That’s not like him,” he replied.

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why.”

“I wonder too.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Why are you thinking about him?”

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Your outfit’s really cute today.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew it.

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

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

“So you want me to do it?”

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

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

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

“Sure,” you accepted. “Why not?”

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nice try.”

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

“What–?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, she continued running off.

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

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

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

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

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

Of course it was Hyunjae.

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

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

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

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

“You’re not even halfway yet?”

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

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

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

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

“You’re taking too long.”

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

And Hyunjae was totally judging.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Just go home.”

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

“I can do it myself,” you explained.

“What are you even doing?”

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

“You’re struggling.”

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

“Let me do it.”

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

“You’re kidding.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hyunjae, I swear—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, baby!”

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

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

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

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

“Of course I was, baby.”

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

But then it fell.

Something felt off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except for one thing; your fury.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wanted to burn.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

“I need a ride.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Drink up and find an Uber.”

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

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

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

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

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

God, he really hoped he wasn’t hallucinating.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where did he even come from?

And why was he so quick to listen?

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

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

“Drive.”

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

“Where to?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re not going to walk, I promise.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your voice broke the silence.

“How long have you known?”

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

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

“About Jiwoong and Eunseo.”

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

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

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

But you asked, and as always, Hyunjae delivered.

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

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

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

“How does tomorrow sound?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t mean to.”

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

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

“I know, Jae.”

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

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

You laughed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

“I want it to hurt, Jaehyun.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re using me.”

Your expression didn’t falter.

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

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

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

“You love me, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

He knew better.

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

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

He knew better.

“You’re using me.”

You both knew better.

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

“And I say take advantage of it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re lethal,” he breathed out.

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

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

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

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

Hyunjae would punch Jiwoong all over again if he could.

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

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

“But it’s true, no?”

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

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

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

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

You wanted to be his downfall.

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

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

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

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

Hyunjae didn’t deserve that at all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I do this?”

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

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

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

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

“A favor is a stretch—”

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

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

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

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

“Jaehyun, please,” you begged.

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

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

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

“Shut the-...F-fuck, oh my god.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Hyunjae took no time breaking it from your neck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re jealous, Jae. Just admit it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Psychotic, just for my princess.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Hyunjae showed no signs of stopping.

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

Oh, and there was the recording too.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“J-Jaehy- hyun, I’m—”

“Mine.”

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

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

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

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

Maybe you were his.

OUR INFERNO [ M.LIST | TWO ]

NAVIGATION — THE BOYZ

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sungbeam · 17 days

Text

007!ji changmin x f!reader

you're sent to montenegro to infiltrate a high-stakes poker game, but with the world hanging in the balance, it's a good thing m's sending her best employee along with you—agent 007, ji changmin.

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, james bond/007/spy au, action, suspense, pining(?), minimal angst, humor bc i'm me, violence, blood, death, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weaponry, mentions of corruption, swearing, kissing, near-death experiences, mentions of terrorism but not explicitly discussed, the ending is kinda cheesy im sorry it's late and i like making him yearn, barely proofread (dudes it's so late when im writing this)

▷ word count. 11.1k

▷ based on. casino royale (2006)

a/n: this is for @winterchimez ally's 007 files collab! pls check out the other fics that have been posted 😎 also, this is way lighter than the actual movie, so uhm, yeah!

YOU KNEW FROM THE MOMENT you first stepped into your position as an agent of the Treasury, that Kenneth Kang would be a thorn in your side. Perhaps not even a thorn, but a massive pain in the neck, the back, the ass. He was a man with a helm of pomade for hair and an ego the size of Russia, who, for some odd reason, despised you.

It was funny… the last time you checked, an entity such as Russia wouldn't be so easily threatened by someone like yourself. But here was Kenneth Kang, continuing to email you passive aggressive correspondence as if he wasn't butthurt the director chose you for this task rather than him.

After all, only the best of the best were selected to assist MI6 with their assignments. The fate of the world hung in the balance.

You told Kenneth just that in your last (hopefully) email to him for the trip: The quarterly reports are still due on Monday, Kang. Remember that Director Song excused me from them because I'm off to go save the world—ta-ta! Or something to that effect.

It was unfortunate the government monitored everyone's emails or you would've signed off with something wildly hilarious like “Love (if pigs flew), Director Song's Favorite <3 (not you)”—that would stick it to him—

A clearing throat drew your attention away from your laptop so abruptly, you were glad you didn't get whiplash.

“This seat taken?” You didn't catch a clear glimpse of the man's face before he was already claiming the seat across from you. The voice was awfully familiar, and when you finally saw him, you understood why.

You nearly did a double take, but the surprise swiftly melted away like glaciers in the spring to something like warm amusement. “Ah, do I—uh—know you, sir?” You asked, gently folding your laptop closed so you can gesture to the teapot before you. “Tea?”

Ji Changmin leaned back in his chair, eyes darting from the view outside the train car window and back to you. He dragged his gaze up and down your form, the back of his knuckles pressed against his lips. It did nothing to hide his smile. “Tea would be lovely, thanks.”

You obliged, refilling your cup with the hot beverage and pouring a decent amount into the extra teacup and saucer on his half of the table.

The two of you were currently on a train to Montenegro. Less than 48 hours ago, you were summoned into your director's office, only for the head of MI6 (the elusive M) to join you. You were debriefed on a high stakes poker game being hosted by a man notoriously reputed for funding terrorist organizations around the globe. You were told that M would be sending her “best” along with you to be dealt into the game—you were never given the agent's name or identification number.

But now that you were nearly an hour's ride away from Montenegro, it seemed he finally decided to reveal himself.

“Are you sure you don't remember me, Miss?” He asked, eyebrows raised over the rim of his teacup. “I was so sure that I left a lasting impression on you the last time.”

You slowly raked your eyes over the sharp, dark blue suit he wore, the white dress shirt beneath opened up at the collar, his wrist fitted with a watch that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in through the window. He had cropped his hair since the last time you saw Agent 007, M's so-called “best.” That was about two years ago, when there was a joint-branch charity gala and the two of you shared a dance before he was called away. Before that, you reckoned it was likely your graduation from Cambridge.

Time flew, you supposed, and you'd both been busy.

The corner of your lips lifted as you took a ginger sip of your tea. “Well then, you'll have to do a better job this time. What brings you to Montenegro?”

“Ah, business. You know how it is.”

“A truly dull answer,” you remarked. He couldn't come up with better conversation? You expected more from the man who always prided himself on buttery smooth lines. Where was the fun in ‘business’? “No wonder you've got all of that on. You're dressed like you're about to go buy a company.”

“Could I buy your company?” He asked in jest, tilting his head to the side.

You set your teacup down and a smile flitted over your lips. “I don't think you'd ever have enough money in the world for that.”

He chuckled then and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, catching a droplet of tea clinging to it. “Challenge accepted.”

When the train pulled into the station at Montenegro, it was just about a quarter past two in the afternoon. You and Changmin stood up from your cozy two-seater table to prepare to disembark. You rifled through your laptop tote for your wallet, but before you could retrieve your money, Changmin was already dropping bills on the table.

“Is this yours?” He asked, placing a hand on the bag stowed above the seat. It was a duffle bag that ranged on the smaller size with enough room to store your toiletries, emergency items, and any other things you might have needed. You were informed that clothing and the like would be in your accommodations waiting for you—there must have been a strict dress code for this event.

You shouldered your purse. “Yes, I'm traveling light.”

“Same here.” He grabbed your bag for you, and the two of you were off, shuffling down the aisle toward the nearest exit. Light, indeed. He didn't seem to have any luggage on him, but you supposed an agent of his caliber was provided everything he needed at his accommodations.

The train station, at this hour, was rather busy. People bustled to and fro to get to their trains, the parking lot, the ticket booth, the works. Your instructions once you'd arrived in Montenegro were to get in touch with the agent who was assigned to this case, and that you already accomplished. Until now, that was about all you knew, barring the general mission at-hand.

“I assume you’ll be staying at the Hotel Splendide, as well?” You voiced to him as you walked by his side toward the valet at the front of the station. You never knew a train station to have a valet, but you supposed it made sense if there were luxury, long-haul train cars.

“Your assumption would be correct,” he said. “In fact, we’re sharing a room.” The reveal of this information nearly had you tripping over your own shoes, and you were sure you saw a ghost of a smile make it onto his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him as he carried onward—of course, the two of you were sharing a room. What cover did MI6 even come up with? Something incredibly original like a married couple, you’d bet. Or, god forbid, a man and his mistress. (The thought made you gag.)

Changmin made eye contact with the valet boy, his chin inclining toward him. “Afternoon. It should be under ‘Ji.’”

The boy traced his finger down the edge of his tablet screen and his eyes lit up in recognition. “Ah yes, Mr. Ji,” he said, grabbing a keychain from his station and tossing it over to Changmin, “your car was just delivered two minutes ago. Have a nice trip, sir.”

“Thank you.” A rolled up bill was exchanged so fast that you thought you’d imagined it, and Changmin was walking onward down the length of the curved curb toward a parked vehicle. You followed swiftly after him, and upon further inspection, realized that the vehicle he was striding towards was a sleek Aston Martin in a classy shade of silver. It looked like something straight out of Hollywood, the sight nearly making your knees buckle. It was enough to say that all thoughts of you sharing a room with Changmin flew out the Aston Martin’s window.

Changmin gave a laugh at your reaction, opening the passenger side door for you. “You look more excited to see this car than me, sweetheart.”

“Was I that obvious? She’s beautiful.” You couldn’t help but grin back as you slipped into the smooth, leather seat. The interior was just as beautiful and sleek, with dark colored leather and a shiny center console. While you buckled yourself in, you heard Changmin deposit your bag in the backseat before rounding the car to take his place in the driver’s side.

“I can’t say I disagree,” he said, the door slamming. He retrieved a pair of aviator sunglasses from a compartment above the rearview mirror, donning them, then flashing you a dimpled smile. “Shall we?”

Changmin revved up the engine and pulled out of the train station's front lot onto the scenic road that would wind down the mountains to reach the portside where Hotel Splendide was located.

“I haven't seen you in two years, have you been well?” You piped up, now that the two of you were alone.

He hummed. “Ah, for the most part, yes—I’ve been alright.”

“Trotting the globe, I bet?”

“You'd win that bet, for sure,” he mused. He passed you a brief glance, turning his eyes back to the road. “And you?”

You mimicked the humming sound he'd made earlier. “I've been decent. Just work most days; you know how it is.”

He nodded his understanding. “Social life just as dead as uni?”

An incredulous sound flew out of your mouth, your hand swatting his arm to coax an impish smile from him. “I have friends!”

“Significant others then,” he offered.

You bristled in your seat and met his grin with a stink eye. “There are more important things than finding romance.”

“Still the same Yn as I remember,” he teased. “Now I know you're not an imposter.” A beat of silence, and then, “M must have been very pleased with your performance records to have approved of your director's choice. Not that I'm surprised; you've always been exceptional in your field.”

You turned your head to face the window on your side, barely hiding the pleased smile on your face from his compliment. It had taken a lot of hard work to get where you were, and you should've been proud of yourself. “I appreciate that. Though, I'm sure the fact that we know each other might have something to do with it, too.”

“I think that's just an added bonus,” he remarked optimistically. “You'll know how to keep me in check.” That was, literally speaking, exactly what your role here was. While Changmin was dealt into the game, you controlled the amount of money he was able to use or bet with. Because you were the trusted agent of the Treasury, you would be privy to the amount of money appropriate to use from the government's coffers.

“Who knew one partner project would lead to us saving the world together?” He added offhandedly with almost a nostalgic sort of whimsy.

“Are you ready to be a team player this time, though?” You asked, eyebrow raised. “The rumors say you enjoy flying solo.”

“I fly solo when it's dangerous,” he corrected. Which, you guessed, was most of the time in his line of work.

“So you're saying this mission isn't dangerous?”

“A poker game?” He laughed. “The only dangerous thing about it is gonna be how fast I'm going to win.”

The Hotel Splendide was as splendid as its name suggested. The grand, white limestone facade was carved with arched windows and statues, sleek columns and balconies. This side faced out into the waterfront, giving all arriving patrons a beautiful view of the port.

Changmin directed his car into the cobblestone roundabout at the front of the hotel. When he brought the vehicle to a stop, a bellboy in a maroon colored uniform opened your car door for you and offered a hand to help you out.

“Thank you,” you murmured, rolling your neck and stretching your limbs from the hour-long car ride.

Changmin emerged from the driver's side with his keys in hand, speaking to another attendant about being careful with his vehicle. He rounded the car just as the bellboy grabbed your duffle from the backseat.

“Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. This way to the check-in counter please,” the bellboy said, gesturing toward the front door, framed by an amber-toned awning and crowned in a myriad of flags from around the world.

You felt Changmin's palm warm the small of your back as you clutched your laptop purse in your hands. “Of course, thank you.”

The hotel’s foyer was just as magnificent as its outside. A crystalline chandelier hung from the high-domed ceiling, painting the room in a luxurious champagne gold, while the marble floors were lined in a deep crimson velvet. The front desk was to your immediate left with a number of staff stationed behind it.

The woman you and Changmin went to greeted you both with a polite smile. “Welcome to the Hotel Splendide. May I have the name of your reservation, please?”

“Ji,” your friend answered, “James Ji.”

Your eyebrows flew to your hairline.

“Ah,” the woman said, “but of course, Mr. Ji. Yours and your assistant's suite has been prepared for your arrival.”

Assistant? While she readied the key cards for you, you met Changmin’s gaze with a number of questions in your eyes. He only answered with a helpless expression.

Assistant? As if.

For fear of jeopardizing the mission by correcting the cover MI6 so generously assigned you, you reluctantly kept your mouth shut.

The desk clerk pushed a pair of cards across the polished wood toward you and Changmin—key cards. “These are your keys for your stay in room 700. All amenities, such as room service and the spa, are included in the fees you paid while booking. Your luggage will be delivered to your room for you. Anything you might need may be addressed via the phone in your suite or here at the front desk.”

(Assistant? Did you look like a fucking assistant?)

Changmin collected the room keys and passed you one. “Excellent, thank you. Did any mail arrive for me?”

“Yes, sir. A small parcel was delivered directly to your suite, as well as several garment bags. You'll find them in your wardrobe. Is that all?”

With nothing else to be addressed, you and Changmin thanked the front desk attendant and you were shuttled toward the elevators at the end of the hall. It was a good thing the elevator carriage made a swift arrival, because as soon as the doors slid closed, you let your frustrations be known.

“Assistant?” You exclaimed, gesticulating frustratedly. “Out of all the cover options? That woman probably thinks I'm your mistress!”

“I didn't choose it,” Changmin said, raising his palms in surrender. Though, it was clear by his expression that he was at least amused by your reaction.

You rolled your eyes, then narrowed them and crossed your arms over your chest. “What if you were the assistant, hm? Why aren't I the rich lady with a handsome secretary I take on vacation with me?”

His grin was teasing as he leaned closer to you, your breath hitching for a split second. There was a brief moment where your senses were fully engulfed by the smell of his cologne and the way a lock of his hair curled over his forehead. “You think I'm handsome?”

As if the universe could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks, the elevator doors mercifully opened onto the seventh floor.

He leaned away, something self-satisfied playing on his mouth as he returned his hand to your back. “Okay,” he drawled, “say I'm your handsome assistant…”

“I'm never living that down, am I?” You groaned, already feeling the headache spike in your temples. Your eyes fluttered about the corridor you entered; it was just as beautiful as the lobby downstairs, but with a slightly moodier glow to the lights as if not to disturb any of the patrons on this floor should they wish for an escape from downstair's hustle and bustle.

“Imagine if Chanhee found out you'd said that.”

“Don't get me started on Chanhee.” Room 700 appeared in your sight, and you smacked your key card against the card reader before letting yourself into the room. As the lights flickered on, you asked Changmin from over your shoulder, “Have you heard from him recently, by the way?”

Chanhee was a mutual friend from your college days. While he was technically a closer friend to Changmin, you'd met Chanhee through Changmin after your partner project and grabbed dinner together every once in a while whenever Chanhee was in town.

You were already making a beeline to the bathroom when you heard the hotel room door close and lock behind Changmin. “Recently? Depends on your definition of ‘recently.’”

The sound of your sigh echoed as you absentmindedly fixed your hair in the reflection. Train hair wasn't as poor as airplane hair, that was for sure. “He misses you,” you said in a singsong tone.

“Is that right?” He chuckled. “I'll shoot him a text then.”

He appeared in the reflection behind you holding two black garment bags, one in each hand. He'd shed his suit jacket somewhere, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to expose his forearms. “These are ours for tonight,” he said to you, handing you the one with your name on it.

Ah, tonight. “Thanks,” you said, taking a peek inside to see what exactly was prepared for you. Your curiosity piqued at the sight of deep wine red fabric, but you didn't look any further for the time being.

“Are you ready for tonight?” He asked, stealing a glance at you as he brushed his hair back in the mirror.

At the proximity of tonight's events, you suddenly felt your heart rate climb. Before when this was only an assignment, the gravity of the situation hadn't fallen over you yet. But now that it was your current reality, it began to rush at you with the speed of an oncoming train.

You steeled your nerves. You were tapped to carry out this task for a reason. The only thing you had to do was be wary of Changmin's spending; he was doing the heavy lifting. Even if you were about to be in a room with a few dozen other dangerous people.

You swallowed, nodding. “Ready as I'll ever be.”

He pressed his lips together, his dimples appearing in his cheeks but not because of joy. There was a step forward, then another. “Hey,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone, “I won't let anything bad happen to you or to anybody; that's what I'm here for.”

He draped his garment over his arm and leaned against the bathroom counter beside you. “If we both do our jobs right, we'll be fine. Do you know who our target is? Just so you're aware of who to look out for.”

You nodded, “Le Chiffre.” That was the name of the host of tonight's poker game. He was high on the MI6's most wanted list, and tonight was a critical effort to put a stop to his movements, as well as the credibility he had with his clients. You'd seen pictures of this man—the cold of his eyes and the pale scar that disabled one of his pupils—you were well aware of what he looked like.

“Good,” he murmured. “Then you stay far away from him, got it, sweetheart?”

“Got it.”

Though the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the room after that conversation, Changmin ordered the two of you room service before you needed to prepare for the poker game. You figured food in your stomach would keep you grounded and lessen the nerves trilling through you and making your extremities feel cold to the touch.

Dinner shared in the privacy of your hotel room with an old friend was pleasant. You both sat on the couch sectional next to each other, his arm laid casually over the back of where you sat, as you caught up and dined. There was something oddly warm in his eyes… you didn't know what it was that made him seem so clued into what you were saying, as if he was spellbound. You figured it must be the training he underwent; after all, if he couldn't just muscle his way to an answer, then seduction was also a powerful tool at his disposal.

You just wondered why it was seeping into his interaction with you. Perhaps it became second nature for him to be this way—to lean into every word you said, to brighten at the sound of your laugh, to mirror every smile. To make you feel like you were the only person in his world and that you were all that mattered.

By the time nine o'clock rolled around and you were in the bathroom preparing for the game, your nerves had calmed considerably.

The dress that MI6 provided you was a deep wine evening gown that hugged your upper body and cascaded down the length of your legs before it hung just above your feet. The satin was gathered and left to create a cowl at the neckline, and somebody had thought it was a fabulous idea to leave a high slit in one side all the way up to mid-thigh height. (One wrong move and you were screwed.)

It was as if a river of wine physically wrapped around you as a garment for the night.

Though you appreciated the beauty of it, it only served to make you realize that perhaps controlling Changmin's spending wasn't your only job tonight; your other purpose was to distract everyone else. You weren't sure how you felt about that.

A knock sounded at the bathroom door just as you were fitting on a pair of matching ruby earrings. “Yn?”

“Just a second,” you said. You pushed the earring backing into place and hustled over to open the door. “I'm just finishing… hey.”

Changmin had changed into an all-black suit, a classic piece of uniform that was tailored perfectly to his proportions. His eyes were hooded and dark as he drank you in like a glass of Pinot Noir.

A low whistle drifted out from his lips. “If I'm being honest, you might be a liability in this dress.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, turning back to return to the bathroom counter.

Changmin trailed after you, almost dumbfounded, like he'd forgotten why he'd knocked on the door in the first place.

You tried to suppress your smile as you handed him his comb. “See something you like?”

His eyes met yours in the mirror, tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I do.”

Your expression shuttered in the mirror having not expected that reply at all.

Changmin cleared his throat, stepping to your side to fix his hair with practiced grace. In no time, his appearance was complete, and he was heading out of the bathroom, his cologne lingering by you.

When you were satisfied, you turned off the bathroom light on your way out to meet Changmin in the main room. He was by the safe, fitting a fresh magazine into a silver pistol with skilled hands. He felt your gaze on the weapon and passed you a glance. “We can't carry weapons into the room,” he told you, “but it's a good idea to have one ready here.”

You bobbed your head in agreement, though you felt your shoulders tighten.

He locked up the safe before making his way toward you. “Do you know how to use one of these?” He asked.

You shook your head. “It was never in my job description,” you said quietly. “I hope you don't have to use it.”

There was a graveness to his gaze now. “I hope I don't have to either.” Because both of you knew, if it came down to it, he wouldn't hesitate.

The room where it happened was deep in the bowels of the hotel, somewhere below the casino floor and above the core of the earth. To get in, one was required an exclusive invitation, which was the item Changmin had received in the small parcel from earlier in the afternoon.

You and Changmin arrived on the scene arm in arm, your posture straight in an effort to come off as nonchalant. As you descended the velvet-lined stairs into the basement room, you were confronted by a pair of broad-shouldered bodyguards with body scanners in their hands. After retrieving Changmin's invitation, you were both scanned separately for security, before being granted entry.

The playing room was on the smaller side with a fully equipped bar on the furthest wall of the room. The centerpiece was an oval table, barred off with railings for spectators to lean on while the game was played. There were a sprinkling of others here, both players and their guests.

Your initial scan of the room, unsurprisingly, produced no familiar faces—but your arm tightened around Changmin's when you caught sight of the man of the hour. Le Chiffre stood on the opposite side of the room, nursing a coup glass of liquor as he spoke in low tones with another man. From this angle, you could see the cut of his one glassy eye and the angry scar that marred his face.

“Our four o'clock,” you muttered between your teeth to your counterpart.

Changmin glanced over out of his peripheral vision, nodding subtly. “How about a drink, sweetheart?” He asked you, his voice slightly louder than your own.

You gave a small smile, and he began to lead you over to the bar.

As the two of you moved, you couldn't shake the feeling of eyes trailing after you, something akin to spidersilk clinging to your limbs that you could never quite brush off. It was no secret that you were one of the few women in the room.

When you reached the bar, Changmin flagged the bartender down. “A vodka martini, please—shaken, not stirred—and a mint julep for the lady.”

“Right away, sir.”

You looked over at Changmin with an impressed purse of your lips. “You remembered,” you mused.

The corner of his lip tilted upward. “How could I forget?”

With your drinks served to you, you gently sipped on your mint julep. It wouldn't do you well to get drunk tonight; you just needed a little liquid courage.

From your side, Changmin stared out into the crowd, likely assessing his opponents in the room. He made a small noise of consideration that made you prompt him. He answered lowly, “You see the man to our nine o'clock?—”

You followed his instructions and casted a single glance that way. At the other end of the bar stood a man in a gray suit, nursing a rum and coke in his hands as he assessed the room for himself.

“—Lee Juyeon. CIA.”

Your eyebrows flicked upward. “Interesting. Are they after our man, too?”

“Good chance that they are,” he said and raised his glass to his lips. He swallowed the last of his drink and set the empty glass behind him, leaning the elbow closest to you against the bar behind him. “Know how to play poker?”

“I’m more of a Go Fish girl, actually.”

He sputtered a laugh, and you smiled into your glass. “You're kidding. Not even a little?”

“Go fish, Mr. Ji,” you said and gestured to him with your glass. “Do tell though, since your boss seems to have so much faith in you. What's the secret to winning poker?”

You hadn't even realized how close your faces were tilted toward each other until you registered the smell of his drink on his breath and the shine on his lips. For a plot second, you swore his eyes even dared a glance away from your own.

Neither of you backed away from the other and remained in the intimate gray space.

“The secret?” He parroted, cocking an eyebrow. He tugged at his bottom lip. “The secret is figuring out what everyone else's tells are. It's about bluffing and strategy. If you can figure out how to tell when a person is lying, then you're practically set.”

You hummed. “I see. So what's my tell?”

“Your tell?” His gaze on you was hot and heavy as his eyes devoured you slowly but surely for yet another instance tonight. You could no longer ignore the rapid hammering of your heart, its insistent palpitations threatening to expose you to the man you swore could already see right through you.

His lips pulled into a slow smile, the kind you couldn't decide if it really was a smile or a smirk. “That’s for me to know, and you to figure out.”

“You don't know then.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

A hush fell over the room. You followed everyone's eyes up to the man who had summoned the room's attention. Le Chiffre stood atop the poker table's platform with a small laptop seated upon the table's edge.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to the game,” he greeted coolly. “We will begin this evening's festivities with an introduction to our security protocols. This device—” he gestured to the computer, “—is fully secured to store and activate all of the night's betting money. Each player will enter a six-character code, unique to them, that will grant them access to the winning sum—should they win.”

A small murmur of laughter amongst the crowd; you didn't find it funny.

“We will begin with Mrs. Takeuchi.”

One by one, each of the players present tonight came forward to input a six-charactered passcode of their choosing. When Changmin was summoned forward, you watched as his expression became a careful, unreadable slate. He strode up toward the poker table, eyes never leaving Le Chiffre and Le Chiffre's never leaving Changmin. You could feel the tension in the room tighten, and Changmin confidently input his desired password.

When he pressed ENTER, you swore you could feel the fifteen million dollars being locked into the pot. Fifteen million was a shit ton of cash. The amount you were not willing to go beyond was twenty million. As long as Changmin played safe and played well, it wouldn't be a problem.

Not before long, the players were all summoned to the table. You sent Changmin off with a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, and followed behind him to find a space at the railing to watch.

Changmin settled in the chair directly across from Le Chiffre.

The dealer passed out two cards to every player, each of whom hoarded a stack of chips and rectangular plaques that valued up to fifteen million. As the dealer revealed the four cards before him—two jokers, a king, and an ace—the game was on.

You weren't even sure what you were looking for, but the sinking feeling in your gut would not fade the entire game. You held onto your mint julep until it was drained, eyes trained on the cards lying face down in Changmin's hands as he watched Le Chiffre across from him like a hawk.

He was looking for his tell, you realized.

The match was tense. You couldn't pull your gaze away, for fear of missing some minute detail, even if each move made was technically quite large. In the beginning, however, it felt as though everyone was playing it safer, for fear of getting out too early.

The night was young, and it would do none of them any good if they lucked out of a pot of at least one hundred million.

You watched Changmin, who watched Le Chiffre. You noted the way Le Chiffre would occasionally bring his left hand up to his scarred eye… was that his tell?

It was nearing one hour when it was only Changmin and Le Chiffre who had yet to fold. The dealer called for Changmin to make his move, and you looked over to your counterpart as the gears turned and twisted in his mind.

“I'm all in,” he decided, and shifted his entire pile into the center, mounting up to some amount close to twelve million.

You pressed the backs of your knuckles to your lips in anticipation of Le Chiffre's move. The man did not cower, but rather, called his bet. He moved his pile of fourteen million to the center. All in.

“Gentlemen,” the dealer gestured for their cards to be revealed.

They flipped their cards into view—you could feel the scandal rocket through the crowd.

“A pair of jacks. Monsieur Le Chiffre wins. This marks the halfway point of the match; we will return in one hour to resume, with the big blind set at two hundred thousand.”

Everyone around the table, both players and spectators, began to dissipate to find something to distract them for the hour-long break.

Changmin's posture was taut as a bowstring as Le Chiffre pulled his mouth into a sly smirk across from him. “Ah, Mr. Ji. You must have interpreted my tell wrong. Off your game tonight, don't you think?”

A muscle feathered in the agent's jaw. “I wouldn't be so quick to boast,” he drawled. “The game's not over yet.”

You didn't know what to say, but you knew one thing was for certain—no matter what, you and Changmin could not let Le Chiffre leave tonight with the jackpot. And as Changmin departed the table with a crease between his brows but his head held high, you knew what was on his mind, as well.

“Need a drink?” You asked, as he met you where you stood.

Changmin shook his head. “No, I'm alright,” he said, glancing about. He nudged the back of your shoulder with his fingers, guiding you toward the exit. “Let's get out of this room for a moment though.”

You weren't going to argue with that decision, and the two of you linked arms and made your departure.

When the cool air in the lobby swept over you and all the tension in your body left for a brief moment of paradise. It was so stifling down in that room; you were almost thankful to be wearing this dress.

You and Changmin lingered at the top of the railing that looked down into the lobby from the second flood, heads close together. “What now?” You asked him.

“I need more money.”

“I can give you five million, but that's my limit, Changmin,” you told him firmly.

His brows crossed together. “Five million isn't enough to go toe to toe with a guy who just ended round one with thirty—”

“That's not my fault; this is policy.” You knew the world hung in the balance, but while that was his job, this was yours. You sighed. “Maybe I can contact someone about approving more, but right now, five million is our only option. Do we not have a plan B?”

Changmin's lips pressed into a line. “Plan B is hoping he does something fucking illegal in front of my face, and praying that reinforcements come in fast enough to take him away.”

Now it was your turn for your brows to crease. “Why do we have to wait for him to do something illegal? Don't we know he's a criminal?”

“We're onto him, yes, but there has been no tangible proof that he's a corrupt banker,” Changmin admitted tersely. He absentmindedly rubbed his jaw with his palm. “If we could just—”

“Ji.”

Both you and Changmin straightened. Coming toward you from down the hall was Lee Juyeon, the CIA agent Changmin had pointed out to you earlier.

You didn't fail to notice the way Changmin blocked you from Juyeon's view with his body. “Lee,” Changmin greeted back.

Juyeon nodded to you in hello with a warm smile, and you lifted your hand to wave. He seemed decent enough.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed as he shifted so he stood next to you now, an obvious arm slung around your waist. “I didn't know the CIA was on this.”

“I didn't know the MI6 was on this,” Juyeon fired back. He let out a sigh that sounded about as stressed as you were. “I wanted to propose a deal with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, well—” Juyeon cupped the back of his neck with one hand. “I'm not the most adept poker player,” he confessed. If you remembered correctly, he nearly lost half his money throughout round one—then again, Changmin lost all of his. According to Le Chiffre, it was because he had read his tell incorrectly; you must have interpreted the wrong one, too. “And I figured that I'm not going to be making enough right moves in the second round to even stand a chance against Le Chiffre. You've got the balls to go up against him, and I know you're down a few bucks, so I wanted to bow out of the round and stake you instead.”

Both you and Changmin glanced at one another in surprise.

Juyeon was backing out… and wanted to stake Changmin? Stake, meaning to invest or sponsor him; to give Changmin funds.

Changmin's eyes narrowed. “And what would I do for you in return?”

“You would give the CIA Le Chiffre.”

What other choice did you and Changmin have? Five million was not enough to make a winning comeback; at least being sponsored would give Changmin enough cushion to make some more mistakes. The allyship between your governments was enough to make the CIA taking Le Chiffre in the end seem like a victory.

Changmin exhaled and stuck out his hand. “Deal.”

The second round was no less tense than the first. Changmin entered with more determination and fury than before, and Le Chiffre was no short of amusement and arrogance.

After Juyeon made his official departure from the game, he came to stand by you to spectate and offer insights wherever he could. The game chugged on by for another half hour with bets being placed, drinks being sipped, and money being exchanged.

You watched Changmin reach for his glass again, only to pause. There was a moment where you didn't breathe, and you watched his hand retract up toward his shirt collar to loosen it.

“Something wrong, Mr. Ji?” Le Chiffre asked.

You squinted at him, disliking the sinking feeling that had returned to your gut.

“Break,” Changmin suddenly called out, as he stumbled out of his seat and pushed out of the room in a hurry.

Eyes widened, you bolted after him, leaving Juyeon to wonder what had happened to Changmin.

You called out to your partner as he stumbled into the elevator, and you crashed in after him. “Oh my—fuck. What the fuck happened?” You asked as Changmin toppled over into you, sweat dripping down his face and his skin growing more and more flushed.

You jammed the button for your floor in a hurry as you attempted to hold him upright. “God, you're heavy, man—”

“Poison,” he choked out, practically ripping his shirt collar open, as if it was constricting his breathing. He gasped for air and clung onto you like a lifeboat.

Panic seized you by the heart and squeezed hard. “Oh my god. Okay—uhm, okay. What do we do? Changmin, what do we do?”

The elevator arrived on the seventh floor, and you half dragged Changmin toward your room. “The—the antid—antidote—”

“The antidote! We have an antidote?” You didn't have time to question him as you retrieved your room card from within your dress and barged into the hotel suite.

You deposited Changmin onto the floor as quickly and carefully as you could, hands shaking as you helped to take his shirt off so he could breathe.

“Safe,” he gasped to you.

“The safe? Fuck, what's the code?” You asked, clambering to your feet and racing over to the black box in the wall.

You heard him choke out the four digits, and the safe swung open without ceremony. You rifled around the contents and retrieved an aluminum foil packet with a slim syringe inside. “Found it!” You cried and practically slid across the floor to get back to him.

You ripped the packet open as Changmin's breathing continued to shallow, his skin paling, and his body growing weaker. His left palm had landed somewhere on his thigh—inject here.

“Shit,” you swore, grimacing to yourself before stabbing the syringe into his leg.

As soon as the liquid was gone, all you could do was pray.

But the storm clouds were beginning to clear, and color slowly returned to Changmin's face. You sank back onto your heels, relief and adrenaline coursing through you.

“Fucking hell, that was a close—”

White hot pain flashed through you as something—someone—grabbed you by your hair and yanked. Your scream pierced through the silence, and it was nearly enough to wake the dead.

They were dragging you backward toward the door, and you reached up to claw at their hands, your skull feeling as if it was being pulled into a million directions while being set ablaze, all at once.

“Let—go!” You screeched, thrashing around. You couldn't see your captor, but they suddenly released their grip on you.

Relief was short-lived.

Your head whipped to the side as a shoe met your cheek. Stars danced in your vision, and you cried out in pain—and then you begged. You were certain Changmin was still recovering, hardly in a state to save you, and desperation began to claw itself into your heart.

Your body was hoisted up beneath your armpits and you squirmed, fighting for your life.

For a second, you were sure you heard Changmin call out your name.

You threw your elbow back into your attacker's face, then tried the back of your head—the sound of pain and bones cracking echoing in your eardrum.

“You bitch!” They roared, loosening their grip to feel their broken nose.

You were a mess as you landed on the ground. A gleam of silver caught your eye. The gun.

Adrenaline seized you and you made a mad dash for the table where the gun was stowed beneath.

Your opponent caught your ankle and dragged you back down to earth. There was no time to mourn over bruised knees and limbs, and you kicked your heels out behind you in a blind fury, desperate to get away.

“Yn—”

“Please,” you screamed, begged. Whoever that was—you just wanted this to end. Fear coursed through you as your body began moving backwards and was dragged back to the door.

You dug your fingers against the polished ground, unsuccessfully gaining purchase. You clutched at a chair leg and dragged it along with you, and felt the hand around your ankle tighten—

With all your strength, you took the chair and heaved it back toward your captor. He let out a garbled swear, only agitated by your continued resistance. The hand around your ankle disappeared and you took it as an opportunity to get away.

“Not so fast.”

Your body hit the ground, the back of your head making purchase against stone. This time, you saw your assailant—he was one of the guards from earlier, likely working under Le Chiffre's orders. Blood dribbled down his lower face, courtesy of your retaliation.

“I should just kill you here and now,” he growled and enclosed his meaty hands around your neck. “Won't make a difference.”

You struggled against him, but to no avail. Your windpipe was being crushed and your vision blurred.

You thrashed and scratched and kicked—this was the end. Oh god, was this the end?—

A shot rang out.

Air slowly began seeping into your airway and you hacked a cough around the hands that had fallen away from your throat.

The dead body above you was heavy and sticky, and the smell of iron permeated your nose like a nightmare. You didn't even realize your cheeks were damp until you blinked and tears filled your eyes.

You nearly died just then.

With a suppressed sob, you shoved the dead body off you with all of your remaining strength.

There, by the table, was Changmin and the smoking gun in his hand. He still looked only half conscious, but he'd managed to get himself to sit up with pure willpower, enough to reach the gun stashed beneath the table, and to aim and fire a shot.

The room was quiet for a few moments, other than the persistent ringing in your ears.

Then you let yourself cry—it shook through your body and shoulders in violent sobs.

Changmin's chest clenched painfully at the sound, and the gun clattered out of his hand so he could crawl his way over to you. His hair, his face, his clothes were all dampened in sweat and the empty syringe laid abandoned on the floor. He made it over to where you were, the red of your dress mixed with the blood of a dead man, and held your body close to his.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered against your hair, lips pressed against your crown. “You’re okay; we're okay now,” he promised.

With his strength slowly returning to him, Changmin sat himself upright and let your body lean against him. You grappled onto him so tightly, as if he might slip out of your grasp.

It was almost thirty minutes later that you and Changmin returned to the poker game. With some gentle coaxing, he got you into the shower to wash the blood away, but you couldn't get the icky feeling clinging to you. He'd been gentle, though, letting you sit beneath the stream in your dress as he got onto the shower floor with you to run the water and soap through your hair.

In his hold, he rocked you gently through the tremors. “No one's gonna hurt you anymore, sweetheart,” he rasped. Never again, not if he could help it.

You'd never seen him like that—all the tenderness in his gaze out in the open.

And you'd only seen it when you glanced up at him once; the rest of the time, you tucked your chin to your knees, staring at a tile.

Unnerved but still alive, you entered the room with another clean dress, and Changmin with another clean set of clothes. You returned to your place beside Juyeon, and Changmin went back to the table to face Le Chiffre.

Le Chiffre, however, looked as if he'd seen a ghost. His eyes had widened just a millimeter, but it was enough.

Changmin dragged up the sleeves of his dress shirt, a predatorial-like gleam in his eyes. You almost killed me. Even worse, you dared to lay a dirty hand on her. “Sorry about that,” he drawled, gaze lifting to meet Le Chiffre's, “seemed that last hand nearly killed me.”

His opponent swallowed.

The game resumed.

With the final phase in play, the dealer announced that there could be no more buy-ins. Juyeon had fetched you a drink, which you were most grateful for, and Changmin avoided all beverages for the remainder of the game.

“Everything alright?” Juyeon asked you quietly as you chugged your drink.

“Perfectly.” You handed the drink off to a waiter nearby and smiled tightly. “We were just strategizing on how to murder this game.” You hoped he didn't hear the tremor in your voice.

As the final round approached, each of the four finalists that were left alive were asked to make their bets. Each player slowly, but surely, slid all of their remaining chips into the center.

Everyone was all in.

“Reveal your cards, if you please.”

One by one, the cards in each player's hand was turned. The room held its collective breath as Le Chiffre revealed an ace and a six—a fuller house, with three aces and two sixes.

All that was left were Changmin's.

With little more than an arched brow, he slid his cards apart: a five and seven, both of which were spades. When joined together with the rest, they made—

“A straight flush,” announced the dealer. “Monsieur Ji wins the game.”

Cheers and applause rang out throughout the room as the game finally came to a close. Relief soared through you, and you shook hands with Juyeon at Changmin's success. Perhaps twenty million had been spent, but it all meant that you had won back that money in full.

From your standpoint, you couldn't see Le Chiffre's reaction, but he didn't look pleased. He stormed out of the room only moments later.

Changmin was swift to join the two of you, his hand coming to lie on your shoulder. “We should go after him,” he said.

Juyeon nodded, expression sobering. “You're right.”

“I'm going with you,” you told him. Already anticipating his refusal, you shut him down with a look. Though you might have been shaken from the night's near-death experience, it only seemed to steel over your resolve to catch this bastard. “I'm safer with you; don't try to argue with me.”

He knew you were right—you saw the reluctant agreement in his eyes. He grunted, “Okay, but you're staying behind me the entire time and when I say run, you better run.”

You patted his chest and followed after Juyeon. “Of course.”

The three of you raced after Le Chiffre in the direction he disappeared. He'd gone up to the second floor via the grand staircase in the lobby, but neither you nor the other boys knew which direction he went from there. The second floor was damn near close to a labyrinth.

“We split up,” Changmin declared. “Me and Yn go one way and Juyeon takes the other.”

“Wait, Juyeon goes alone?” You butted in. “Le Chiffre is dangerous and desperate; that combination isn't good for anybody.”

“None of us have any weapons either,” Juyeon pointed out.

Changmin gestured to you. From beneath the skirt of your new dress, you withdrew the pistol from earlier out into the light. After what happened in your suite, the both of you thought it best to let security measures be damned and holster a gun to your inner thigh. And now, it was proving to be the right decision.

Juyeon deadpanned, amending, “I don't have a weapon.”

“Then you should go get one,” Changmin said smartly. You rolled your eyes at him.

“I—shit.” Juyeon huffed in frustration. “Goddamn it. You better hold your promise, Ji.”

“My word is gold,” Changmin swore as you passed him the pistol. “We'll find Le Chiffre; you call for backup.”

With that matter settled, you grabbed Changmin's hand and set off in one direction.

His fingers tightened around you as you stuck close behind him. The corridor was hauntingly quiet with not a soul around. You and Changmin trudged onward and kept your eyes and ears open for anybody hiding behind a corner or waiting to enact revenge on your poker victory tonight.

The hair on your arms and the back of your neck stood erect, heart thundering loudly in your ears.

So loud, that you almost missed it.

You caught Changmin's eyes. Did you hear that?

There it was—it sounded like voices coming from a room further down the hall.

“—please, just a few more weeks, and I can get you your money back!”

A muffled response in return.

“NO! I swear, I'll do better! I have another i—”

You never heard the end of Le Chiffre's offer. There was only the sound of a metallic swish, followed by a dull weight hitting the ground. A body.

Your breath hitched as you and Changmin looked around wildly for a swift exit or cover. There was an emergency stairwell just a few doors down.

Changmin grabbed you and booked it.

Your breath caught in your throat as he pressed you against the open doorway, eyes flickering somewhere behind you to watch the door the voices had come from.

“Do you trust me?” He asked, eyes furiously searching your own.

You didn't have to think about it. “Yes.”

Just as a door opened in the hallway, Changmin cupped your jaw with his hand, braced himself against the doorway with the other, and kissed you.

Your eyes fluttered closed upon immediate impact and you felt your heart leap into your throat. His lips moved gently against your own, as if afraid of breaking you, and his hand moved down from your jaw to wrap around your waist to pull you flush against him.

One moment you were melting into his embrace, and the next, he was shoving you behind the other side of the doorway for cover.

A war cry rang out—not Changmin, you realized—as a body blurred past you and was thrown into the stairwell's metal railing. Your soul nearly left your body, head turning in time to throw yourself out of the way of the incoming bodies.

Changmin brawled and grappled on the floor with a second man, a silver machete glistening in the dim light, only a few centimeters from his throat. The first man was slowly beginning to stand up, and your eyes tracked where Changmin's gun had skidded to the floor.

You swiped the gun up just as Changmin wrestled his opponent off him.

With adrenaline powering through you, you smashed the butt of the gun against the back of the man's skull. He crumpled to the cement—unconscious.

“Here,” you breathed, helping Changmin to his feet and shoving the gun into his hand.

He shook his dizziness away, eyes widened on something behind you. “YN, DUCK!”

You swore, and dropped to the ground, narrowly missing the arc of the first man's machete attempting to remove the head from your shoulders.

You dove down the first set of stairs to get out of the way of the fight, your knees and hands scraping against the cement and bruising.

The man with the machete attacked Changmin with reckless abandon, swinging his blade and striking the railing to make sparks fly. Changmin had no opening to use his firearm and—oh shit. They were coming this way.

“Yn, you better be fucking running.”

He didn't need to tell you twice. You tumbled down more stairs, ditching your heels as you went. You would be useless in this fight, so your best action would be to get the fuck out of the way.

Changmin's breath flew out of his chest as he hit the wall hard, then stuck his hands out in time to stop the assassin from impaling his head on the sword. Changmin drove his knee into his stomach, then threw him across the stairs to the opposite landing.

The fight clambered on down the spiral stairwell, metal clashing against metal, and bone and flesh grinding against stone. Changmin gritted his teeth as he fumbled backwards down the stairs, hitting the opposing wall with even more momentum.

He ducked—and missed another swing; and another; and another.

There was a kick to his gut, and his body went flying. His assailant took a leaping start and charged. Changmin grabbed at his hands again, desperately attempting to wrestle the machete away.

The weapon went sailing; that was his opening.

With pure adrenaline, Changmin fisted the man's shirt and flung him over whatever railing was left. You cursed as his body hit the basement floor with a thump.

Changmin tackled him as he attempted to climb to his feet. With the violent thrashing, Changmin ended up beneath him, his arm wrapped tightly around his opponent's neck, and he squeezed.

The man's arm flopped about, desperately reaching for the gun that scattered onto the floor from all the ruckus. If he could just reach it—

You lunged for the gun, tripping as the man clawed at your ankle to throw you off. You shrieked, swinging the barrel at his hand to knock it away.

When you finally managed to scramble backward, you watched the light fade in the assassin's eyes.

As soon as the man slumped in death, Changmin loosened his grip and crawled out from beneath the body.

You clambered over to him and helped him to his feet, his joints and muscles screaming as he attempted to straighten. He groaned, white-knuckling the railing, “Fucking hell.”

“Are you okay? Holy shit, Changmin,” you said, wrapping your arms around him to hold him up. There had been too many close calls there.

You passed a glance over at the corpse lying on the floor about a meter away from you. A shudder rippled down your spine, and you felt Changmin's hand on your forearm, like he knew.

From up above, you heard the sound of the stairwell door opening. The two of you peered straight upwards as a familiar face peered over the landing.

“Le Chiffre's dead,” said Juyeon. In his hand was a pistol; it seemed he finally retrieved his firearm.

“No shit,” you and Changmin replied simultaneously, chests heaving up and down in laborious panting.

Juyeon blinked, squinting his eyes to take in your appearances. “What the fuck happened to you guys?”

“Careful,” you called up to him, “that guy isn't dead.”

Juyeon jolted and he considered the body at his feet with new awareness.

You threw one of Changmin's arms around you to begin the ascent back up. “Can you—fuck. Is that yours?” You swore for the thousandth time tonight as you peered over at the growing dark splotch of red seeping through Changmin's shirt.

He hung his head as strength rapidly bled out of him with his own life force, and you carefully laid Changmin down on the ground.

“Juyeon!” You called out. “Juyeon, help!”

You heard rapid footsteps in the distance, but it faded to background noise as you ripped open Changmin's shirt and came face to face with the vicious knife wound in his abdomen. “Oh my god,” you whispered. God, there was so much blood.

“Cover the wound, Yn,” Juyeon said to you as he leapt down the final steps. “Fuck, this looks bad.”

“He must not have begun to feel it until the adrenaline was over,” you reasoned in a desperate attempt to keep your head on straight. Per Juyeon's instructions, you pressed your palms over the wound, bile rising in your throat from all the blood. “Changmin—Changmin, come on. Stay with me.”

He murmured something you couldn't hear, and you leaned your ear down over his lips. “Come on, talk to me, love. Tell me something, anything.”

His voice came out, barely there. “I'm… I'm glad I got—I got to see you again.”

And he would see you again. That was a promise you made to yourself, and to him, as Juyeon called for his reinforcements and you clung onto Ji Changmin's life with your own.

When Changmin came to, it was bright enough to blind him. There was a fuckass beam of sunlight shining right into his eyes, and he blinked rapidly, wrinkling his face into a grimace. There was a violent throbbing in his abdominal area that ached when he attempted to roll over or sit up.

Was he dead?

“You're not dead.”

His body immediately relaxed into the sheets he was settled in. When his eyes grew accustomed to the god awful amount of light in the room, he was met by the sight of your face, silhouetted against the sun, and beautiful. “Are you sure? 'Cause I'm pretty sure you're an angel.”

Your palm came over to rest against his forehead, and his eyes fluttered shut. “You must still have that fever,” you teased.

When you both shared a laugh, he opened his eyes again.

It seemed he was in a hospital room—well, something akin to that. It looked more like a small bedroom was transformed into one, and he laid on the bed with a heart rate monitor hooked up to him on the side. You perched on the edge of his bed with a cardigan draped over your frame, and something soft in your eyes.

No, he was definitely in heaven. Maybe he didn't die, but he was in heaven.

Your expression sobered as your hand drifted down to caress the side of his face. “You lost a lot of blood,” you whispered. “I was really worried about you.”

Changmin brought his hand up to gently take your wrist and turn your palm inward, his lips meeting your hand in a butterfly kiss. “Hey, sweetheart. I'm alright now, see?” He intertwined your fingers, missing the feeling of how they felt interlocked in the hotel hallway.

The hotel hallway—the fight—Le Chiffre—the kiss. His lips seared at the memory, and he fought the urge to touch his lips at the phantom sensation.

“What happened?” He croaked out instead, gazing up at you. His heart tugged against its confines when he made out the shape of dark purple smudged against your cheekbone. It was the bruise forming from the guard who came after you, and it made Changmin ache to see.

Hurt, you'd been so hurt.

You shifted your body so you could tuck your feet onto the bed, too. “Juyeon came with reinforcements and we got you out of there as soon as possible. One of Le Chiffre's clients killed him—the guys you fought with in the stairwell. Apparently he'd used their money to buy into the game, and because he wasn't able to win, they killed him.”

Changmin stared up at the eggshell-colored ceiling. He supposed that would have been the tangible evidence needed to convict Le Chiffre, but his client was faster at acting as judge, jury, and executioner.

“M's on her way to meet with you,” you continued, your thumb gently tracing dizzying circles onto the back of his hand.

“To be expected,” he chuckled. He glanced back up at you. “How are you? Were you hurt at all?”

You shook your head. “No, nothing to your extent. There were a few scratches and bruises, but nothing time won't heal.”

“And everything else?” Your mental state, especially after all you went through, could not have been in a terrific place. If he could have prevented you from experiencing any of what happened, he would do it in a heartbeat.

The pure fear that speared through his chest when he thought you were about to die…

He had long since figured out that what he felt for you was not simply platonic. It was more—he yearned for more. Seeing you again after so long just made it worse.

You made a noncommittal noise. “I'll… I'll be alright.”

For a moment, the room filled with only silence and the white noise from the heart rate monitor. You suddenly perked up at something, and turned to reach over to grab an item from the side table. Changmin recognized the small laptop device from the poker game now seated on your lap.

“The money pit from the game was stored in escrow in a Swiss bank. A representative from the bank delivered this to us,” you explained, showing him the screen. It left room for a passcode to be filled in. “To the victor go the spoils, love.”

The nickname made him shudder and he forced himself into an upright position.

“Changmin—”

“I got it,” he countered and stubbornly gritted his teeth through the pain until he was seated against the headboard next to you. He clutched his injury, head knocked back against the wood. “Well? Wanna guess the password?”

You lifted your brows in amusement. “Do you know how many six letter combinations exist out there? For all I know, it was a random keyboard smash.”

He chuckled lowly, leaning his chin against your shoulder. “S.”

We're really doing this? You seemed to ask with the expression on your face. You humored him, though, pressing down on the S key.

“W.”

The letters that followed amounted to S-W-T-H-R-T. You were quiet for a second as you stared at the final combination; you didn't want to press the enter key just yet.

Changmin murmured against your shoulder. “I'm not one for corny messages, but that's a 'sweetheart’ if I've ever seen one.”

You were still quiet as you pressed enter and unlocked the winner's pot. There was no special celebration, no balloons or confetti—just a solid number with too many zeroes for your little heart to handle. Perhaps, in the end, there really was no amount of money in the world that could buy your company. Not if you freely gave it, at least.

Changmin felt his chest lurch. “Yn, sweetheart, say something.” He leaned off your shoulder so you could turn your body to face him, the laptop returning to its place on the side table.

“What should I say?” You asked, your fingers playing with his own in your two hands.

“I'm sorry if the kiss was too much.”

You faltered for a second. “It, uhm, it wasn't too much. I actually thought that it was nice.”

“You did?” He hated the way hope made him feel, how it made his heart sprout wings—maybe he was dead.

A small smile crawled onto your lips and you dug your teeth into your bottom lip. “Maybe I did.” You raised a hand to the side of your face, an embarrassed groan falling out of your mouth. “God, I feel like a teenager with a crush again.”

“Giddy?”

“Pathetic,” you teased. You leaned your head against the headboard again as you looked over at him with the most beautiful gleam in your eyes he had ever seen.

He never understood the romanticizing of someone's eyes—what else had he ever discerned but fear or boredom? But he could hear your laugh just by seeing your smile reach your eyes, and he could feel the warmth spreading in his chest and making electricity zip down his spine from the tenderness in your irises.

He swallowed hard. “If you feel pathetic, then I am literally chopped liver,” he said. A surge of courage, the kind that was a trademark of his reputation, propelled his next words: “I'd like to kiss you again.”

Your eyes darted to his lips and he clung onto that detail as if he were hanging by a thread. “Because you saved the world, Agent 007, you can kiss the girl,” you mused.

You leaned over him slightly and cupped the back of his head, mouth meeting his own in a familiar dance. Even with his injury, he pushed back to meet you, and ignored the throbbing in his stomach, so he could haul you closer, over, around him. Anything to get you pressed up against him.

Real—you were real, and you were alive, and so was he.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed! omg that permanent taglist looks SCARY 😭😭😭

tbz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @zzoguri @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @vernonburger @maessseongs @ericlvr @mars101 @moonyswolf @your-mirae @richasdiary @deobi0412 @sunramzi @honeyrecommends @synthwxve @dearly-somber @empire-x @kflixnet

#🔎 — the 007 files #deoboyznet #kflixnet #the boyz x reader #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #the boyz oneshot #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #changmin drabble #changmin oneshot #changmin angst #changmin scenarios #changmin imagines

112 notes · View notes

stealanity · 2 months

Text

playlist one , the boyz ( cch to src ) :

⠀

ꕤ choi chanhee ,

the so-called boyfriend ( smau , hiatus )

better

yarrow

cry for me

strawberry flavor

⠀

[ 8:42pm ]

[ 10:42pm ]

[ 11:12pm ]

[ 5:25am ]

⠀

ꕤ ji changmin ,

you did well

lying eyes

first love

dream of you

dream of you ( part two )

⠀

[ 10:32pm ]

[ 2:24am ]

[ 6:17am ]

[ 6:14pm ]

⠀

ꕤ ju haknyeon ,

our secret little date

⠀

[ 12:24pm ]

[ 8:23pm ]

[ 9:36pm ]

⠀

ꕤ kim sunwoo ,

color palette ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. eric , written serie , discontinued )

you're save

late night kiss

a to z being your boyfriend

old toy

new toy

ghost train

just friends

easier

unashamedly

⠀

[ 3:47am ]

[ 3:45am ]

[ 9:45pm ]

[ 6:38pm ]

[ 11:57pm ]

[ 11:25pm ]

⠀

ꕤ sohn eric ,

endless race ( smau , finished )

game over ( ft. sunwoo , written serie , discontinued )

age of love

broken night

never be you

roulette to your heart

because of you

black hair & red lipstick

all over

one bed

birthday present(s)

⠀

[ 3:22pm ]

[ 2:56pm ]

[ 2:24pm ]

[ 2:04am ]

⠀

ꕤ ot-eleven ,

sorry, for breaking your heart ( written serie , hiatus )

kiss or kill? ( one shot )

the boyz as the vamps' songs

october 19 : international kiss your crush day

kiss their s/o for the first time

their s/o asking them for one last kiss

their s/o having a habit of sitting on their lap

their s/o being drunk

their s/o cutting their hair short

their s/o holding hands when they're anxious / clingy

their crush not being touchy

always having an extra scrunchie for their s/o

watching a horror movie with their s/o

sharing a bed with their s/o for the first time

accidently outing their relationship on vlive

⠀

. . . link to hyung line !

106 notes · View notes

cloverdaisies · 2 months

Text

# ART CLASS 𝜗𝜚𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

JI CHANGMIN x reader

˗ˏˋ description:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : your crush on your art professor might be affecting your grades, he was just perfect but you’re just a student. how you accidentally fell in love with art class for the wrong reasons…

˗ˏˋ genre:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : fluff, unrequited to lovers.

˗ˏˋ word count:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : 5.5k+

˗ˏˋ notes:ˎˊ˗જ⁀➴ৎ୭ : this was once 10k+ but oops, is a bit of an indulgent fic i can’t lie, i hope you love it as much as i do, so here’s some changmin brainrot to feed ur delusions, massive thank you to @juyeonszn for helping me get over my plot blocks, ily. proof reading in progress!

Mondays, the worst day of the week. That was for certain, considering you had a two hour class that morning with a professor that would draw over your weeks worth of work with sharpie. Thankfully, he’d already announced his leave and you wouldn’t had to deal with that anymore. Every morning you’d get the bus to university dreading the next class, headphones on trying to drown out thoughts of how you were going to survive your degree in these insufferable conditions.

“Today you have a lesson with your new professor, who’ll be taking over for me. He’s very well educated and I’m sure he will be able to fill in the gap after my leave.” Your old professor rambled on as if his low marking and reckless actions with felt tip pens would be missed.

You weren’t necessarily paying attention, more focused on your pencil work in the sketchbook than you were on the front of the class. Ears suddenly perking up at the voice you heard from the front of the room, it was a cuteish tone, at the same time mellow and calm - a voice that could put you to sleep that sat just on the right octave to make you fall in love with it.

“Hello everyone, I’m professor Ji and will be taking over the introduction to Fine Art module going forward. I look forward to getting to know you all and seeing your work. Today we will be starting a new project for your mid term evaluations, it will be a multimedia piece with a theme of your choice. Make it mean something, do what’s true to you.” Professor Ji stated, already he sounded as if he knew exactly what he was talking about. It was a breath of fresh air and his intellect was almost making you dizzy.

No y/n, you can’t be getting a crush on your professor this can only end in tears if you find out he’s already happily married and settled in life.

“Any questions?” He asked looking around the room with his thick black rimmed glasses, leant against the wall with his hands clasped in his blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

“Are you married?” Someone asked from the back of the room triggering a boisterous laugh to break out across the classroom.

Professor Ji sighed and rolled his eyes, clearly contemplating his response a bit taken a back by the question. Especially in a university classroom, where everyone’s an adult, it was such a high school question, but who could blame them for asking?

“Do I look that old to you?” He responded with a chuckle, holding a hand over his chest like wound had opened over his heart. Oh and he’s funny. This literally couldn’t get any worse, he just seemed perfect.

After that the class began to start their projects, however for some reason you just couldn’t overcome the creative block in your mind on what to do. As you were sat twiddling your pencil and scratching out ideas in your planner you felt a presence appear behind you.

“Struggling?” Professor Ji appeared over your shoulder with his hands behind his back, briefly looking down at your empty page before back at your embarrassed expression.

“I guess you could say so.” You laughed as if you were begging for hole in the earth to collapse and swallow you into non existence. You watched as he smiled sympathetically thinking of a way to help you, dragging a stool and bringing it closer to your workspace. He’d done this to every student, going around to check on your progress unlike your previous professor who didn’t really care less.

“Let’s see.” He scratched his head for a moment, tapping his pencil on the table. “What are you interested in?”

You blushed internally, the question on completely professional terms but almost sounded like something someone would ask on a first date - at least in your delusional state of mind.

“Well I usually focus on work that expresses feeling, like this piece I did on stress.” You showed him a previous piece of work you did for the class, the abstract work compelling him to the phone screen.

“This is really creative. I love the way you used colour here, it’s abstract but so detailed. I think you’ve definitely found a style there —” He paused for a moment realising he didn’t know your name.

“Y/n.” You slightly smiled at him, trying to make yourself seem less like an awkward mess in front of him or mask the fact, that you totally weren’t staring at him the entire time he’d been looking at the phone.

“Y/n. I definitely won’t tell you what to do! But something similar will definitely have you sailing through this module.” He smiled, the cute line peaking at his dimples which could of had you squealing right there like some sort of wild animal.

As he walked over to the next table you couldn’t help but wish he’d stayed longer, his presence was unfortunately addicting. It’s the way his eyes lit up seeing your work, his passion for his work, his intellect, his welcoming aura, it had you in some sort of chokehold you hadn’t felt in years.

You took his words on board, an idea suddenly crossing your mind in a quick flash. Sure it wasn’t the best idea considering your current situation, but all the emotions you’d depicted so far were negative. Something within you was scratching at your brain to illustrate the feeling of the fear of love, knowing you were good at painting the feelings you genuinely felt.

Beginning to map out your idea in your planner, the new wave of creativity certainly didn’t go unnoticed by your professor as he looked over at you working away with a smile.

Then you hit a wall. You didn’t like using anything other than acrylic paint, every other form of media just for some reason seemed to irk every single creative bone within you.

“Any progress?” Professor Ji passed your table for the last time, as the lesson would soon be drawing to a close.

“Yeah I have an idea. However, I hate working with anything other than acrylic.” You expressed, your ears turning a bright pink as he grazed your arm to take a look at your planner.

“Well I think this is a great idea.” He laughed politely, readjusting his glasses with a light push. “I’d love to discuss this more thoroughly in office hours with you, if you’d be up for it?”

“Sure. When?” You asked completely composed, your mind rattling through ideas for the piece whilst trying to block out any thoughts of the man next to you. He smiled for a moment, flicking through your scribbled notes with a pen.

“Today, 5-6pm. Think of the things you want to discuss before attending and I’ll be happy to help. It seems you’re a really talented artist. You just need a push in the right direction.” He replied, his friendly register doing nothing to help you out of the sick spiral you were falling down. You smiled as he walked off to the front of the classroom to close the lesson, unable to pay any focus to the words falling from his mouth as you flipped around your ballpoint pen and chewed nervously down on your lip - the venom of adrenaline circulating your body like a wildfire from the interaction.

The class began to pack their things, snapping you out of your silly nightmare daydreams packing your sketchbook and planner. You pushed your pencil behind your ear, planning to pack it away into your pencil case at some point but not necessarily revising that idea. You slung your bag over your shoulder with a sigh, about to leave door without looking back, your bed awaits.

“Don’t forget to sign your attendance guys.” Professor Ji pointed to the clipboard on the back of the door greeting everyone on the way out with a warm smile.

You quickly went to check your bag for the loose pencil you could have sworn you just had, not remembering where you’d placed it, frantically searching the bottom of your bag for it not fussing to open the case of pens in front of you.

“Are you looking for this?” Professor Ji, took the pencil from behind your ear with a chuckle. Thankfully, being the last to leave was on your side today, no one seeing the god awful embarrassment on your face.

“Thank you, that’s so stupid of me. Sorry.” You laughed off the embarrassment, grabbing the pencil from his hand and signing your name on the sheet as he continued to laugh. “Stop laughing.” You looked over to him, holding back your own giggles as he only laughed more.

“Sorry I can’t help it. See you later y/n.” He chuckled as you left the classroom with a idiotic smile glued to your lips, the door closing behind you. You could have screamed right there and then due to the shear torment of embarrassment.

As soon as your head hit your pillowcase, the room felt as if it was spinning, so many thoughts drowning that brain of yours they were turning it into nothing but mush. You felt your eyes shuttering closed, slumber gradually taking over your body.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

The persistent beeping of the alarm on your bedside table triggered you to rise from your nap like something out of the walking dead. You could have used more sleep, but you seriously needed to attend Professor Ji’s office hours otherwise your project was never going to be finished.

You got ready, your head clouded with looking good for your literal university professor. You shook those thoughts out your head fairly quickly before sliding into your boots and setting off out the door. The winter semester brought in dark nights, it was cold outside, so cold you could see your breath in a thin smoke as you waited at the bus stop.

Presenting your pass to the driver, thoughts circulated your head like a manic steam train running a track as if it was the F1 , you can’t fall for your prof, it would only end in tears when he doesn’t reciprocate those feelings. Staring into the steamed windows of the bus out on the dark night, you sighed the faint sound of music playing through your headphones as comfort.

You pressed the stop button, nervously making your way down the bus aisle as it came to a halt. Making your way to the arts building on campus, you inhaled an anxious sharp breath before reaching the hallway of offices. The office still had your old professors name engraved in a silver board on the front of the door, hesitantly you knocked awaiting an answer. The door handle turned, your stomach flipping and performing handstands.

“Y/n, come in.” Professor Ji smiled, walking into the office with a confident stride, the place littered with boxes seemingly needing to be unpacked. The office was lit warmly with a lamp stood in the corner behind the desk. He sat in a spinning chair at the polished desk nearly placed towards the centre of the room.

“So explain your plan.” He leant forward as you sat in one of the chairs opposite him, you pulled out your portfolio the chunky folder highlighting a collection of your previous projects.

“So, since I’ve done a lot of work on emotion, I thought I’d tackle something more complicated. So I wanted to do the fear of falling in love.” You explained showing him a colour palette you put together in class, it showed colours from a deep scarlett red to a sapphire blue. “The only issue is I don’t know how to use any other media than acrylic.”

“Hmm. So you’re a painter?” He asked watching you nod before beginning to speak again. “Have you ever tried oil paint?”

“Only briefly, I don’t really have the funds to buy oil paints though.” You laughed, thinking the suggestion was silly considering how expensive oil paints could be on your student funds.

“Thought so, that’s why I’m offering you use my resources for this project. Here.” He pushed a set of untouched oil paints across the table, as if they’d just been bought. You looked at him with confusion, you thought this had to be too generous, you’d never had any teacher care so much about their students.

“I mean thank you so much but why?” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the gift, it wasn’t necessarily too expensive nor was it meant anything but a professional proposal.

“I know what it’s like to be a student. Plus, someone like you could really benefit from it, your work with acrylic is to not be transitioned into oil paint.” He passed on a genuine smile, a smile that radiated a positive energy you’d never felt. You looked down at them, still in a state of shock he’d go out of his way to buy such a thing for you. “I was also thinking, since 1 to 1 mentoring is setting back up with the new semester, would that be something you’d be interested in? I happened to stumble across your notes from your old professor and he noted you seemed very stressed with your work load.”

“Yeah that’s true, but I can handle it!” You tried to smile, however upon hearing the comments you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed in front of the likes of Professor Ji and his intellectual level in art. It felt as if you were being told you were slacking or left behind. “I don’t think I need any extra help.”

“Are you sure? I mean when I was in your year I also went through 1 to 1 mentoring for the same issue. I wasn’t always at the level I am now.” He sympathised with you, trying to catch eye contact as you looked down at the table.

“Okay. I guess it can’t hurt.” You sighed, still avoiding the glare of his brown eyes across the table, a silence lingering as the grandfather clock ticked on in the background.

“That’s great to hear. So it will be out of university grounds. Purely because the university won’t let me book a space in the week, I was thinking maybe a café? Of course on a completely professional basis, there’s a few other students needing the extra help too. I’ve got one more slot, are you free Wednesday at 10am?” He rambled on slightly, the thin biro in his hand hovering over the page beneath him. He pushed up his glasses and looked at you expectantly, your many thoughts being interrupted by his gaze.

“Uh, yeah that’s my day off so I guess.” You replied with a shrug, sitting back in the chair as you watched him messily scribble in his planner. “Do you have any pieces you’re working on at the minute?” You had no idea why you asked him, however something in you was desperate to ask.

“I’m just doing research at the moment into the baroque period, I would love to have the time do a piece of my own. It’s been a while.” Prof Ji seemed happy you asked, a small grin lighting up his cheeks as he spoke about it.

“Hopefully you can clear some time soon, I’d love to see what you make yourself.” You laughed, almost forgetting you were in a professional space as you let the words slip from your lips.

“Agreed. You’re free to go, see you on Wednesday morning.” He concluded the meeting politely, seeing you out the warm lit room through the tall chestnut door.

“See you then.” You replied, feeling heat rising to your cheeks as you noticed his arm over you keeping the door open, thoughts spinning through your dizzy head feeding your delusions like a sickly candy.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

After then, every other class had you spacing out with a mind full of Professor Ji, thoughts of his paint covered glasses, rolled up shirt sleeves, sweet smile and messy short hair. You often smiled to yourself, the words of every other prof passing through one ear and out the other - drowning softly into the background of your daydreams.

Wednesday seemed like a century away, you found your weekend dragging by Monday felt like an entire week and so did Tuesday. The night before, you’re sat planning your outfit as if you were going somewhere incredibly important the next day. Scrolling tiktok to cancel out your nerves for the next day, although it wasn’t a date, it was a completely professional meeting. You couldn’t shake the thought of it being a café setting, somewhere where you’d get to know someone for the first time, somewhere where you’d ask someone their hobbies, stare at each other across the table- you were getting carried away, but how couldn’t you?

The weather was on your side the next morning, the sun shining through your small apartment building window, the temperature outside not too warm but not too cold either. You carefully got dressed into the clothes you picked the night before, fixing your appearance in the mirror with a smile. Hopefully the effort wouldn’t look strange to him, after all you weren’t trying to look like the weird student with the crush on the teacher, nooooo that’s not you! It was and you couldn’t deny it.

You couldn’t help but twiddle your thumbs on the bus towards campus, palms coating themselves in a thin layer of sweat, your stomach churning in anticipation. You thanked the driver, walking towards one of the many on campus café where you’d agreed on meeting. It was a sunny day, therefore a considerable amount of people had taken to having picnics on the campus green, most opting to sit outside the café with their iced drinks and books.

You spotted him immediately, sat on one of the small tables with his laptop, scrolling away through his laptop and sipping at his iced latte with pouty lips.

"Hey." You smiled walking up to the chair in front of him with a smile, he returned the smile closing his laptop and putting his drink aside on the table.

"Y/n, lovely to see you. How are things coming alone? Do you want a coffee?" He asked picking up his wallet and signalling towards inside of the cafe.

"I can get my own! And I can't say I've done much, I've been pretty distracted the past few days." You laughed, trying not to be too suspicious or act embarrassing in anyway. He looked at you momentarily, eyes wavering across your outfit and perfectly styled hair.

"You look nice, are you going somewhere after this?" He asked, for the second time heat flooded your cheeks, your ears probably lighting up bright pink.

"No." You didn't know how to respond, if anything you were too stunned to speak, trying to gargle up words out of the jungle rattling in your brain. "I just had some extra time to get ready this morning."

"Glad I'm not keeping you from getting anywhere." He chuckled a mischevious smile on his lips, "I'll get the coffee, what are you wanting?"

"An iced matcha would be nice." You blushed, your voice barely coming out above a whisper as all your dreams of a man all seemed to be coming true. He was so mature but at the same time had a man-child charm, he believed in chivalry and was always there to give you everything you needed. In your sick fantasy, he was your prince, the older man that would save you from the horror of the boys your own age.

As he nodded, politely exusing himself to get your drink, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket, reaching to grab it, a text from your roommate lit up the screen. 'Wanna go to the bar tonight?' You hadn't been out in a long time, too busy in work and exams to dare leave your mess of a bedroom: seemingly procastinating work was always more important than your own happiness and social life. 'Sure' You replied, after all you deserved some fun after everything.

Professor Ji returned with your drink, you graciously thanked him and slid your phone back into your pocket. He turned the pages of his planner to the notes about your project he'd written earlier.

"So have you started sketching out your linework yet?" He asked, repeating his little habit where he pushes up the middle of his glasses to the top og his nose since they always slid down slightly everytime he loked down.

"No... Sorry, its been a hard few days. I'm not even sure where to begin." You replied awkwardly, with all the thoughts of him you'd completely forgotten all aspects of the project or the fact it was due sooner than anticipated.

"That's okay, we can always start now, that's if you brought your sketchbook." He laughed lightly, not trying to put you in some pit of self doubt when you were already struggling to hit a pencil to paper.

"Yeah I did actually." You reach to grab your large portfolio bag, grabbing your sketchbook and opening it to the page where your moodboard for the piece was. You had practiced some sketching, feathered lines and doodles scattered across one of the pages. He reached across the table, looking at the drawings with a keen eye.

"Pass me a pencil." He asked, holding out his hand as you gave him one of yours, watching as he began to draw in the corner. "Instead of feathering your lines so much, try to get a firmer line like this so its easier for you to follow the precision of the paint."

He drew the heart balloon you'd drew in the corner, of course in a much nicer way which was soul crushing for you, but you followed his guidance and he nodded in approval. Of course, he could'nt admit it, but Ji himself was feeling some sort of gut feeling, perhaps guilt as he felt himself begin to get nervous around you. He thought it was endearing, the way you followed his movements and laughed nervously when you accidentally made a mistake quicly erasing it. However, he would absolutely never, his self control was a much tougher obstacle to tackle and he wouldn't let it fall for anyone.

You carried on discussing placement and ideas, not long until you had an minitaure layout of the page for your project all sketched out. The hour had flew by, and you almost forgot about your drink, too focused on him and his words to comprehend the time.

"Thanks for today, oh, and the drink, Professor Ji." You began to pack up your things, your pencils going neatly slotting into their case.

"Of course, just call me Changmin by the way, the professor thing is too formal even for a classroom." He felt himself cringing, why would he say that? He did mean it but, it felt even weirder that it was you saying it and not the other students.

As you left, he took off his glasses for a moment palms flattened over his face as his thoughts ran over all the events of the past hour, raking his fingers through his hair. Although he did think everything you did was in some way magical, he understood that he could not loosen the boundary between him being your tutor and you being his student. It simply couldn't happen. Ever. That thought would torment him until you either went away or he had to leave himself.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

For the next few hours, your daydreams had become an even more delusional hell than before. Your memory floated over the fact his hand had touched yours briefly as you handed him the pencil, the warmth of his fingertips lingering over your knuckles. As you grabbed your bag, getting ready to meet your friends you simple’s could not shake the thought of today, the chemistry between you both, the tension. It was all a bit much to handle.

You met your friends at the bar, regardless of the messy state of mind you were in. You got a break from work conversations for once, being able to stay up late and drink as much as you wanted as the sports played in the background of the bar. For the first time you felt as if this was normal university life you were living, however the huge disadvantage of not drinking in a long time is that after a couple of drinks you were irresponsibly and irrevocably drunk.

“Get home safe y/n.” You friend smiled, you two bring the last people in the bar as your roommate and her boyfriend had already left much earlier.

“You too.” You smiled before turning around and trying to walk in a straight line, the narrow alley of the street proving difficult as you accidentally wandered into the wall.

On a late night convenience store trip, trying to shake his irreplaceable thoughts. Changmin couldn’t get a wink of sleep with the pool of guilt sitting in the pit of his stomach at the idea of you. He left the store with a few snacks, figuring if he couldn’t sleep he may as well watch a movie or something to pass the time.

As if the world was against him, he noticed a familiar figure stumbling down the street, sighing as he recognised you, clearly not being in a state where you can get home safe unless you lived extremely nearby.

“Y/n?” Your ears perked up at the familiarly sweet voice. A voice of concern as you looked up to see your professor, Changmin stood in front of you with a glint of worry in his eyes.

“Oh…. hiiiii…. Sorry I must look like a mess right now.” Barely able to string out a sentence you giggled and hiccuped pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. Oh goodness… how you’d regret this in the morning.

“Can you get home safely? How much did you have to drink?” He asked frantically, gasping as you almost stumbled over his palms landing on either arm to support your body.

“Yes. You’re so funny…. I just need to get the bus.” You slurred your words going to walk past him, before you were stopped by him blocking your path.

“There’s no buses from here at this hour it’s 3am! I can’t take you home because I’ve drank myself. You can sleep on my couch if you want but if you go to walk home, I’m walking all the way with you.” Changmin stated, watching your eyes light up all giddily as you began jumping up and down.

“OOOO, What does your place look like?!” You squealed the curiosity getting you way too overexcited in the drunken state you were in

“Come on then, you had lectures in the morning you need be more careful.” Changmin let you link your arm into his, despite the berry pink shade rising in his cheeks he hoped you’d wake up in the morning and forget all about the way you were acting towards him for your own sake.

His apartment was a humble excuse for a studio, not too big but not inconveniently small either. There were band posters and some of his original art work hung on the walls across the room where there was space. It was lit warmly, he seemed to hate fluorescence of ceiling lights and much preferred dotting smaller lights with thrifted lampshades around the room.

“You have the bed, I’m gonna stay awake for a while.” He pointed to across the room where his neatly made bed was just waiting to canon balled, the mountain of pillows looking so unrightfully comfortable. You collapsed into the sheets without any arguments, failing to see the relieved smile as he sat down in front of the television.

You soon drifted off to sleep, every little mumble, little breath was heard across the room by him. He struggled to shake the thoughts of you, after all that’s what was keeping him up in the first place. He’d only made his situation worse, he couldn’t fall in love with you no matter how attractive he thought you were. Every time he shut his eyes he saw you, and now you were across the room the thought was haunting him. So he laid across the sofa awake, into the hours of the early morning until he just couldn’t keep them open anymore. Even in his dreams, the pictures of you danced like paintings across his brain.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

Of course leaving your professors house hungover at 8am on a Thursday morning, wasn’t the proudest moment of your life, it certainly was an experience. You’d never been mortified of your own actions, god knows what you said to him, you couldn’t remember blurting anything you shouldn’t of. However as you showed up to your lectures for the next 3 weeks he didn’t talk to you, nor did he help you with your project or take you to any cafés for your mentoring.

Your one to one sessions now took place in his office, to him it was easier to make the difference between love interest and student in there. You could tell the difference, he wasn’t as friendly, he was ice cold and this only made you more embarrassed.

After a few weeks you finally mustered up the courage to ask him.

“Why are you being so different with me?” You asked confidently, watching him avoid making eye contact and ignore the question as if he never heard it. “You owe me an explanation.”

“Do I? I’m just trying to maintain a professional relationship with you.” He shrugged continuing to check through your sketchbook, you couldn’t look at him without beginning to shake, the confidence in your voice wavering.

“What do you mean by that?” You retorted, confused to why that was suddenly so serious, when had HE ever been unprofessional, after all weren’t you the problem?

“I mean what happened those few weeks ago, was wrong. I’m your lecturer nothing more.” He placed his palm on the desk looking at you with a serious glare, eyes wavering suspiciously.

“Changmin?” You were hesitant to ask, “Do you have feelings for me?”

There was silence, you wished you could swallow your words back into your head but you were too late. He stared at you with a panicked expression, then one of disappointment before beginning to speak.

“I can’t Y/n, you’re just a student. You’re my student, I don’t want to lose my-”

He knew he was hurting himself with his own words, it was so clear he’d been pushing himself away from what he wanted and that was you.

You interrupted him with a kiss, it took a moment before he reciprocated standing up straight and pushing your back into the wall behind you. It was passionate desperate, as if every emotion, anger, frustration, love that was so forbidden - he’d just let it go. He couldn’t fight it anymore.

Pulling his face away from yours, you looked at him with teary eyes, all the emotions bursting out as your own feelings began to conflict.

��I’m sorry. That should have never happened.” He quickly backed away, holding his lips. You shook your head violently not able to produce a coherent sentence.

“No. I’m in… I can’t say it. Don’t hate me.” You still couldn’t think of the words, you didn’t want to frighten him or push him away. You were scared he wouldn’t be able to love you back, he’d hold his career over you.

However that singular tear that fell from your eye, was gently wiped away by his thumb. Wrapping his arms around your head and bringing you to his chest. He sat himself on the desk, lifting you on to his knee to comfort you.

“It’s okay, I’m in love with you too.” He whispered into your ear, only causing you to sob more as his own tears were wiped away by a hearty chuckle. “I guess we’ll have to figure out the work stuff before I can fully be able to love you like I want to though."

You smiled up at him in the ambient lighting, as he rocked you in his arms against the warmth of his chest you were content. The dimples in his cheeks sending your stomach swarming with butterflies, as you pushed your glasses up his nose for him.

That’s how you accidentally fell in love with your art professor.

┈ ・꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ୨୧ ꒱ ・┈

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loverseon · 23 days

Text

SOUL SWAP .ᐟ masterlist coming soon ᯓ★

pairing female reader x ???

genre royal au, fantasy, kinda mystery ish

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

word count tbd (around 30k+)

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

teaser one moodboard playlist

part i. the dream of the golden bedroom

part ii. the hero of the first water

part iii. the saviour of the fallen

part iv. the master of the wild

part v. the commander of the gods

part vi. the ceremony of the conqueror

part vii. the end of the beginning

part viii. epilogue: the princess of stars

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

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sanaxo-o · 3 months

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Lonesome (Ji Changmin)

Warnings: cheating, drinking, kissing, cursing, just hurt with no comfort lmao, genuinely just plain angst with no happy ending :)

Word count: 2594

Sana: Hihi back with our series Emails I can’t send fwd. It genuinely took me ages to write something because I kept jumping from one member to another and ally was just so understanding 😭. A huge huge thanks to @winterchimez @invuwrld and @from-izzy for beta reading this and giving me their suggestions. Love you guys <3

“One more of this please.” You say with your eyebrows arched together. Placing your aching head in your hands you heavy out a small, tired sigh as you think back to the times when you were still happy.

Ever since you were young, all you ever wanted was your love life to be filled with joy and happiness. You knew that was not it, you saw all the hardships your parents went through when they were together but they always found their way back to each other. That was true love in your eyes.

You always dreamed about finding a man who loved you just like your dad did; you remember your older brother talking with you about the girl he used to like. You were envious of that feeling he had because you never felt it, but when you saw your brother wail over the same girl who used to bring that silly smile to his face, it made you question if love was really what you thought it was.

You think back to the time when you promised your brother to never cheat on your future partner, the way his eyes glistened with tears because he was the one who got cheated on made you swear that never in your life will you ever cheat on your partner. That is if you ever find one.

And when you did find the one, you thought that’s all you will ever need. It was as if your life was complete and you were now with the man you would love forever.

Being with Changmin truly did change your life, the way your eyes would sparkle whenever you saw his smile or when he would do those small gestures for you unknowingly made you feel like you were the only person who would ever matter to him.

You thought you would never lose him, not with the way your relationship was going on a smooth pattern but life had different decisions for you.

When you got together with Changmin, you knew it was gonna be difficult in the beginning. The man was known for having commitment issues; he was popularly known for only dating for a month and then ghosting them.

But you thought what you had with him was different; you guys went through your relationship for over a month. Hell, you surprised everyone when you both celebrated your three months anniversary.

You never thought that it would all come crashing down like this, not when your love for him was so strong.

You should have known, you were not the one when he stopped gazing at you with love in his eyes, the way he started snapping at you for the smallest things and then apologising for it blaming that he was just stressed.

You were afraid— to be his history when you dreamed about being his present, past and future. Well, then it might just remain a dream then, right?

Taking a sip of the alcohol that was placed in front of you, you looked around your surroundings, the very place where your relationship started falling apart.

—x—

Flashback

Entering the crowded club, you try your best to stick around with Changmin. Coming out to clubs three times a week was never your thing. Yes, you went to clubs, but it was only for rare or special occasions.

But considering the fact that Changmin was a huge party animal, you knew you would have to come to some of the parties along with him. You were his girlfriend, after all.

“Wait, where are you going?” You ask Changmin with a small voice as you grip his hand tightly. Afraid you might get separated in this crowded place.

“I will just look for Juyeon, you should go and get yourself a drink. I will be back in no time.” Saying that Changmin gave your forehead a small kiss as he dragged you to the bar counter, “Order some drinks for yourself while I go and talk to Juyeon about something, hmm?” He says as he caresses your hands softly while lovingly gazing into your round eyes.

You could see the sparkle still present in them. It never seemed to disappear when you were with him, which warmed your heart.

Giving him a small nod you watch his figure disappear into the room full of people. Heaving out a sigh, you order yourself a mocktail, even though you are not in the mood to drink alcohol.

—x—

Heaving out a sigh you grip onto your phone as you look at the time displayed on your screen. 12:37. It has been more than an hour since Changmin walked away to have a talk with Juyeon, and still there was no sight of him.

Getting up from the stool, you hand the bartender the money you owe him as you start walking away from there to search for Changmin.

Going around the dance floor, there was no sight of Changmin. Getting worried, you go up to the second floor to search for him. He should most probably be there, right?

Walking up the stairs you start feeling nauseous, being around all those drunk people whose bodies kept on brushing against yours made you sick. You could smell all the sweat which made you want to throw up.

As you reach the second floor, you start walking towards the spread-out couches. Looking around you could feel your legs coming to an immediate halt when you saw Changmin talking with some other person, a woman to be exact.

You could not believe your eyes, he left you there all alone while he was chit-chatting with some other girl.

Taking slow steps towards him you noticed Changmin look up at you, but his eyes did not sparkle like they used to before.

“Hey, I was looking for you…” you say quietly. Too afraid to speak any louder knowing your voice may break if you do so. “I think I will leave now. You can have fun and stay back. I don’t feel so good anyway!” You say in a rushed tone as you turn on your heels and walk away from there.

You expected Changmin to come after you, too, maybe drop you off or something but when you did not feel any presence behind you, you lost all hope.

Exiting the club, you remove your heels and hold them in your hands as you sit down on the footpath, too heartbroken to even think about looking for a ride back home.

Looking up at the night sky, you stare at the moon shining its light down on you brightly.

Sniffing you bite back your tears as the previous scene keeps on playing back in your mind. You knew you were gonna lose him, it was obvious, but you did not want to let him go.

Flashback ends

—x—

“Miss, I think it’s enough for now. You’re drunk, and we need to close. Could you please call someone who could pick you up?” You hear the bartender say to you. Looking up at him you nod your head and stand up from your chair.

Stumbling on your way to the exit, your hands hover above his contact name. Despite all the things he has done, why is it that he’s the first person you could think of in this situation? Why is it that your fingers subconsciously clicks on his contact name as you wait for him to pick up?

“Hello?” You heard Changmin’s voice beam through the other line. Heaving out a sigh you sit down on the very footpath you were on when you encountered Changmin with the girl that day.

“Could you pick me up?” You slur out. From the way you were speaking, Changmin caught onto the fact that you were drunk.

“Where are you?” You hear him ask while telling him the name of the club you hang up on him before he could reply back.

Staring down at your empty hands, your mind drifts back to the time when you started noticing Changmin distancing himself from you.

The way he would always space out while you were talking, the numerous times he reached home late with the smell of a different perfume on his clothes.

—x—

Flashback

It was a day everyone was eager for; you guys were gonna graduate. A new era and a chapter were about to begin tomorrow.

You were more than excited for this day; you graduated from university with flying colours, you already applied for different jobs which you were sure you would enjoy, but most of all, you were happy that you were able to share this moment with Changmin.

You knew he was happy about graduating, but there was something else on his mind.

Approaching you with Juyeon beside him, he stood right beside you while he held onto your waist as he told Juyeon to click a picture of you both together.

Looking up at his face you noticed the difference in them, he was not smiling like usual.

You wanted to push him away, yell at him, ask him why everything changed between you two.

You wanted to scream at him and ask ‘Why were you somewhere else when you were next to me? Why were you thinking about her when I was right there with you? Did you imagine her face when we would kiss?’ You had so many questions, but all of them were left unanswered.

Flashback ends

—x—

“Y/N…” you heard a voice call out your name. Looking up, you saw Changmin getting out of his car as he walked towards you.

Standing in front of you he gently pulled you up as he supported you so you could walk towards his car.

Opening the passenger door, he gently pushed you inside, making sure you were secured by the seat belt.

Hiding your face in your hands, you could feel your tears escaping your eyes, your body shaking with each sob.

“Y/N? What…what happened?” You heard Changmin ask from beside you. Placing his hands on yours, he pulled them down so he could have a better look at your face.

“Everything…everything is wrong…” you sob out, your voice cracking at the end.

“What do you mean?” He asks softly as he wipes your tears away. Pushing his hand away harshly, you look away from him, staring out the window you look out the window.

If the circumstances were different, you would have loved being out with him like this; kissing him in the car underneath the moonlight was something you always enjoyed when you were with him, but who knows he might be doing this with someone else too.

“Why would you do this to me?” You ask softly as you turn your attention back to him.

“I don’t get it…” he says softly as his face displays nothing but confusion.

“Why can’t I be the only one in your life? Why did you have to cheat on me? Why?” You sob out as you hit his chest multiple times with your fist.

“I…I am sorry.” Was all he said as he gripped your hands in his, stopping you from hitting him. His hold was still gentle, but his gaze wasn’t. It did not hold the same love in them like it used to and it pained you more knowing you were not the girl in his heart anymore.

“Were you thinking about her with your hand on my waist? Were you thinking about her face whenever we kissed? Was her name in your mind even when I was with you?” You question him, letting out your feelings and not having the strength to keep them in anymore.

Sighing, Changmin let your hands go as he looked ahead of him; nodding his head he could hear your sob escape.

“I hate the fact that you’re not there with me when I wake up...I hate the fact that you would run out for her, even if it’s the middle of the night. I still think about our very first kiss, but it pains me knowing it’s not the same for you.” You ramble out.

“I am sorry…” was all he said again.

“You know what’s more funny? I feel lonely even when you’re with me because it feels like you’re never around anymore. I would rather be alone than feel lonely…” you say with frustration as you move your hair out of your face. Chucking you rest your head on the seat to try to calm yourself down, “You know it’s funny how you’re gonna leave me now that I am in love with you. Can I do that to my problems too? Will they leave me if I fall in love with them? Because I don’t think I have the energy nor the strength to do anything.” You say as a tear slips down your eyes onto your cheeks.

“Don’t say that, please…” he says as he tries to grab your hand, only for you to push it away.

“Did you even give a fuck about me, Ji Changmin? Was this all just a game for you?” You say as harshly wipe your tears.

“No, I did love you, but…but she’s different, Y/N. I feel more free around her…” he says, his voice coming out small.

“So you’re saying I tied you down?” You ask with hurt visible in your eyes.

“No!” He screams in panic.

“Well, that’s what you implied!” You scream back at him.

You spare him one last look as you grip onto your bag, “Let’s break up…I cannot do this anymore.” You say as you open the door and leave the car.

Sipping on your coffee as you look out the window, it has been three months since your break up with Changmin.

You did everything you could to move on from him, you jumped from one guy to another but that did nothing since your mind seemingly drifts off to Changmin at the end of the day.

To stop that you even tried going to clubs to get wasted but what you did notice was the fact that you would come back home drunk and cry yourself to sleep while thinking about Changmin only to wake up with a severe headache and a hangover the next day.

You stopped looking after yourself; you did not even eat properly and drowned yourself in work which was not a good decision because you ended up fainting from fatigue.

As of now, you were still on the path of moving on from Changmin but in a more healthy and positive way.

Maybe what you were looking for right now wasn’t a relationship or a partner; you did not want your new relationship to end like your previous one.

You did not want to feel lonely despite having a partner, you would rather choose to be alone than to feel lonely and let yourself get insecure.

Maybe being in a relationship at the moment wasn’t the right timing for now, maybe in the future you would be happier than you are now.

Now you know that loving one’s self comes before loving another, because would it be fair if you gave all your love to your partner, then leaving nothing to yourself? All you knew was that before you got into another relationship you should love yourself first because what you learned from your relationship with Changmin was that there’s no point in being together with someone if you did not love yourself enough.

Taglist: @cloverdaisies @kimsohn @mosviqu @i520cm @deoboyznet

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k-rising · 11 months

Text

Q as boyfriend

Romantic aspects

okay, so let's start with how you two first meet!

I feel that changmin will shyly talk to you by making you smile or something like that... I'm imagining him approaching you and telling you something like "oh… nice shirt" lol and then he will keep talking to you

I feel that he will try to be as polite as possible with you, cause, yeah… he finds you attractive, but he doesn't want to make you feel uncomfortable

there's going to be a lot of small talk at the beginning, and then, if he feels that you're interested in him and if he feels confident evnough, he will shyly ask for your number

when you two start to get to know each other, changmin will try not to reveal too much about himself at first… but if you connect instantly, he will open up

it will be hard not to fall for him, though… cause he's so charming and will do anything to make you smile. he just loves seeing you smile, but he specially loves knowing that you're smiling because of HIM <3

since changmin seeks for deep bonds and doesn't want to get hurt, he will tell you to take things slowly at first

if he's sure that he wants to take things more seriously, he will ask you to be your boyfriend

this man is a passionate, romantic, protective and loyal lover. he will treat you as a princess/prince and will try to provide everything he can to make you happy :(

I'm visualizing him making you laugh and scaring you while you're watching a horror movie together. yup, he will force you to watch those movies with him, but if you get very scary, he will be there holding your hands and telling you that everything's fine.

if you're the type that doesn't like to talk about your problems, that you try to hide them and that you try to solve them on your own, let me tell you that q will not let you do that. this dude wants to know what's bothering you and will try to help you out. plus, he's very observant and intuitive, so he will notice right away if you're feeling down

changmin's love languages are physical touch and acts of service. he also LOVES buying you gifts. if you ever mention that you like to have x thing, he will remember and will try to buy it for you

changmin wants you to feel protected, that's why he tries to be in control of the relationship

although he can be so busy with his work, whenever he has some free time, he will call you right away to spend time with you :')

q wants to feel loved as well!! moreover, if he feels that you don't treat him the way he wants to be treated... bye bye

When he gets angry

q is rather calm and doesn't like when conflicts arise

he doesn't get angry, he gets annoyed… and when he gets annoyed, he's stubborn and quite strict

and yes, changmin can get easily jealous

however, if you REALLY mess up with him… he can get vengeful and can become your biggest enemy, so don't you ever betray him!

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑜 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔! 　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

#tbz #the boyz #q #changmin #ji changmin #tbz astrology #the boyz astrology #q astrology #changmin astrology #tbz imagine #tbz angst #changmin angst #changmin imagine #the boyz imagine #the boyz angst

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winterchimez · 10 months

Text

Lip Sync | Ji Changmin

pairing: ex Changmin x f!reader

genre: angst, suggestive

warnings: influence of alcohol, making out scenes, mentions of s*x, bad breakup, cheating, unrequited love (in some way)

word count: 2,751

a/n: so.... i can explain 🤡 what made me wrote this oneshot on a whim was because of Changmin's whisper from the song itself 🫠 (delusional to the max tbh 🙃) but in all honesty this is my favourite track from their latest jp album, and i knew i had to write a fic about it!! i just hope i managed to execute it well according to the lyrics (yall i tried my best ><) feedback would be much appreciated! 🩵

You watched as the clock continued to tick as it reached closer to the hour you were going to be done with this dreaded lecture you were having.

3… 2… and finally… 1.

The clock strikes 14:00, and everyone seemingly grabbed the belongings that they had obviously packed way beforehand and rushed out of the lecture hall. You, on the other hand, were in no rush to head to your next destination, which was your accommodations.

As you took your time packing away your things into your backpack, your phone lights up and produces a ding sound, indicating that you have received a notification. You immediately took up your phone that was lying front screen down on the table, and read the notification mentally.

Hey Y/N, remember this time during 2022?

Snapchat. Always with the monthly notifications that you’ve never bothered clicking into to see what it was because your college life was never entertaining in the slightest bit. You were a lone girl, and you’ve always preferred staying in the university’s library till late at night and then heading back to the comforts of your accommodations. You were never an outgoing person, so attending social parties was definitely out of the question.

However, for some reason, your brain decides to do the opposite today, as you clicked on the notification, with the thought of just having a quick glance at whatever Snapchat wanted to remind you about.

Now, you wished you could’ve turned back time and that you’d never clicked into the application in the first place.

A picture appeared on the exact same date from a year ago, depicting you with your former boyfriend, Ji Changmin.

Honestly, the Y/N from your freshmen year would’ve laughed if she had known that you and the f*ckboy of your university were actually a thing for a good solid 2 years. Ji Changmin was infamous, to say the least. Not only was he a good dancer that has basically contributed to winning several trophies from various dance competitions that were held annually throughout the state, but he was also the face of the university.

Many students and lecturers admired the way he was. The manner in which he presented himself, those doe-like eyes and how he’s able to put on this adorable yet captivating look that just makes everyone swoon over him? He was a winner for sure.

Everyone could’ve sworn he was definitely up for the job to take on the role of the president of the student council, given the good grades that he has worked so hard to maintain throughout the years. But the lad always turned the offer down, saying how there were better students up for the role, especially his close bud Kevin or Sangyeon.

In reality though, what really stood out the most among the students was that he was the infamous f*ckboy in university. Oh, how many girls have given up anything to be able to spend a day with him, or even doing the deed with the man himself.

You have seen how he was always with another girl almost every other day, and being the goody two shoes that you were, you decided that he was someone you’d rather jump off a cliff than associate with.

That was until a frat party that happened 2 years ago when your assignment mate at the time, Eric, was basically dragging everyone he knew to come to join him. And of course, he had to bring his newly met friend along too because according to him, the more the merrier.

You came up with so many excuses that night, saying how you were sick or how you had way too many assignments due the next day. But that did not stop the male from actually showing up at your doorstep and basically dragging you into his car, not even letting you have a say in all of this.

So there you were, at your first frat party which you obviously did not enjoy the slightest bit. So many times you’ve tried to avoid everyone like the plague, retreating to the kitchen most of the time to be alone while having the least intoxicating drink you could possibly find.

Of course, your demeanour that day stood out entirely from everyone else, and that has piqued the interest of the f*ckboy that was watching you ever since the moment you stepped into the party. He had his eyes on you the whole night, desperately waiting for the right moment to hit on you.

Ji Changmin definitely had to thank the hosts of the party for organizing the infamous beer pong game, for that was when both of you truly came face-to-face with one another. During that time, all of you were split into two different teams, playing the game against each other to see who would win. He was the representative of his team, while you and Eric were the ones for yours.

Apparently, turns out that Eric wasn’t the best at holding his liquor, and he passed out after having 5 shots. Naturally, you had to take on the responsibility of continuing the game.

You wished so badly that you’d said no that time, for you became tipsy, unknowingly chugging down more than 10 shots for basically losing against Changmin’s team that night.

As the game ended and everyone was basically minding their own business throughout the apartment, you quickly excused yourself to the bathrooms and tried to calm your spinning head down.

And there was when Changmin took the chance of visiting you to see with his own eyes, how the girl that has caught his attention throughout the night has become. You were a mess, and that somehow turned the male on even more.

“Please… I don’t want any trouble….” You whimper.

“Funny you say that because you’re clearly enjoying whatever I am doing to you right now.”

Both of your arms were pinned up against the cold bathroom walls above your head, and somehow the male ended up leaving trails of kisses all around your neck, while he shoved his legs right in between yours.

When his lips finally met yours, you seemed to have enjoyed it more than you thought. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but you for sure did not reject that idea and eventually, it turned out to be a steamy make-out session in the bathroom.

Changmin has made out with multiple women before, yet somehow you just felt so different from the rest. The whole experience? The soft whimpers and moans you produced? Oh, he couldn’t tell you how much they sounded so sweet to his ears, and he craved for more.

“I just can’t get enough of you.”

As he began to untie the pretty white lace dress that you were wearing, he couldn’t help but stare at your collarbone as he drops your clothing right onto the ground. He licked his lips, and he couldn’t wait to dwell deeper into his fantasies.

“People say that I tend to go wild and bite when I’m drunk. Don’t worry sweetheart I won’t do that, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

And that was how you ended up with a hickey and a bite mark on your collarbone for a good 2 to 3 weeks. You could only vaguely remember what happened back then, you were too intoxicated to tell from your own perspective. But the male surely did remember every single detail from that session, which was what made him turn his whole interest towards you.

God, he was persistent. He always made the effort to get close to you, while the only thing you wanted was to stay far away from him. But your efforts turned out to be an utter failure most of the time, for he would always be a step ahead of you.

He somehow got your number and began following your social media accounts and leaving comments on almost all of your pictures, texting you almost every single day, up to sending your random snaps where the male just somehow always manages to get good photoshoot-worthy shots. Honestly, at that time you insisted on blocking the male for good until your assignment mate Eric convinces you otherwise.

“Give it a go, expanding your horizons is what you’re supposed to do in university.”

You probably would’ve thought that Eric was insane, but later down the line, you realised that you were the one going insane instead.

Eventually, Changmin decides to get close to you in person, where he’d leave you random post-it notes in your lockers every day and purposely bump into you whenever you both cross paths during lunchtime in the cafeteria. These actions that you once thought to be annoying and intrusive, were slowly turning into ones that you actually enjoyed.

He was goofy and flirty at the same time, which somehow always manages to put a smile on your emotionless face that clearly indicated how exhausted you were from all the lectures you were dealing with on a daily basis. Eventually, you began to enjoy his company, so when he offered to take you out on your first date, how could you possibly say no?

Both of you were head over heels for one another, and eventually, the university labelled you both as the new lovebirds of the season. It wasn’t until the 10th date (at least from what you could remember) that both of you finally decided that you both were to become official.

Of course, it also ended up with having a heated make-out session after having a little too much to drink in his apartment. During that heated moment, Changmin finally took the first step of asking you to be his girlfriend. Being madly in love at that point, you had no reason to say no.

Instead of giving him a direct answer, you immediately gave him a smile and pulled his face down to your lips till both of you were merely inches apart.

“Just shut up and kiss me already.”

A bittersweet smile was plastered across your face as you decided to take a seat in your lecture hall. After that Snapchat notification, you unintentionally find yourself to be stalking his Instagram page that you once blocked.

As you tapped into his icon, you began scrolling through his feed while tears started to form in your eyes. You looked through the dozens of pictures that he posted, and you couldn’t help but to reminisce back on the good old days.

And that smile of his.

That smile was something that you’ve grown to become unfamiliar with, it was a thing of the past anyways.

What exactly happened that made you both parted ways? None of you really knew exactly.

As both of you eventually reached your senior year, the number of struggles and burdens that you both had to bear was becoming more and more unbearable, which has led the both of you to spend less time together.

Unfortunately, the struggles were too much to bear for Changmin, and he eventually returned back to his f*ckboy roots, going out and sleeping with a different girl every other day. He did not want you to bear his difficulties while you were already clearly struggling to make ends meet since you provide for yourself, hence he could only vent out his burdens with what he knew best.

You, on the other hand, were heartbroken, to say the least when you found out that he was doing what he used to in the past before establishing a relationship with you. But eventually, you had to accept the hard truth.

At the end of the day, f*ckboys will always be f*ckboys.

As you were lost in your thoughts, your phone suddenly dings which was where you received a new notification, this time from Eric.

Eric ⚾️: Hey, since finals are over care to join a frat party for tonight?

Well, since you had nothing better to do and you were basically depressed all over again after reminiscing back on your ex, you immediately took up the offer, in hopes of going for the sake of taking things off your mind for a bit.

Y/N: Sure, pick me up at 8pm.

As you turned off your phone and the screen goes dark, you were met with the reflection of your poker face.

Everything is going to be alright.

So here you were, back at a frat party. You haven’t been in one since the last where your first encounter with your ex happened 2 years ago.

You just wanted to let things off your mind and basically used this as an excuse to forget about your ex.

Or rather, actually hoping that you’d bump into the male himself. Knowing him, he definitely would not miss out on such an occasion considering his position as the university’s f*ckboy.

As you make your way around the apartment, sure enough, you found the male on one of the couches, with a random girl he has hooked up with for the night.

It didn’t take long for the male to notice your presence, perhaps he could feel that a pair of burning eyes were basically directed towards him for some time now.

Not wanting to create a scene, you retreated back to the kitchen, trying your best to find any liquor you could get. Basically, it was kind of an excuse to keep yourself occupied.

It didn’t take long for the male to present himself in the kitchen, now looking right into your eyes. It has been a good 6 months since you both unofficially ended things, and the tension in the air was awful.

Not even asking about what both parties have been up to, Changmin immediately broke the tension off by posing a question that seemed a little too harsh for your liking. “We… have no feelings anymore, don’t we?”

No Changmin. I still love you. After what you’ve done. But, why can’t I say it out loud?

With the quietness that you returned to him, he slumped his shoulders in defeat and gave this painful smile that you wished you could’ve helped ease.

“Honestly Y/N, you’re too good for me really, for a f*ckboy like me. If there’s someone as similar as you out there, perhaps I could’ve made it work. I guess fate has its plans and you’re just not the right one for me.”

Don’t say that.

As the male walks up closer to you, he returns you with a hug, one that you knew that it meant to be the last farewell.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You returned the male with a hug, and you tried so hard to hold back the tears that were basically going to stream down your face full of makeup that you’d done rather beautifully for the night.

“Don’t worry about me, Changmin. I can never thank you enough for all of the beautiful memories we have made for the past 2 years. Your happiness comes first after all. I’ll be okay.”

As you both broke off the hug, he decides to give you a quick peck on the lips, and oh how you savoured that short-lived moment.

If this is really the last kiss, then let me remember it fully, from the shape of your lips to the scent that you gave.

“You deserve someone better, Y/N.” Changmin pulled away and turned his back as he made his way back into the crowd in the living room.

Right when he was gone, the tears that you’ve tried so hard to hold back finally poured down onto your face, and you desperately tried your very best wiping them away with your bare fingers.

I wanted for us to start all over again so badly. But my ultimate decision was to put up a brave face in front of you.

As you were done wiping the tears away, you made your way towards the exit and decided to take a breather and stroll around the area before heading back to your accommodations on your own before it gets too dark to be dangerous loitering around alone.

With a huff, you looked up into the dark sky and tried your best to put on a sincere smile.

Let’s both give our next love with our future significant other a shot. And may we truly find the right person to spend our lives with.

a/n: i'm actually considering to write a oneshot based on Eyes On Me & Door as well, do let me know if any of you would be interested in reading them ><

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @flwoie @hokupi (join my permanent taglist here!)

#deoboyznet #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #changmin #ji changmin #changmin x reader #q x reader #changmin imagines #changmin scenarios #the boyz angst #the boyz suggestive #changmin angst #changmin suggestive

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destiny-fics · 1 year

Text

Always and Forever

[Ji Changmin x Fem!Reader]

Pairing: Ji Changmin x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before!au, University!au

Summary: Your university’s annual ski trip was met with a great amount of excitement and anticipation for what might occur, especially for you and Changmin during your first trip to the lodge together. While you're there realisations are made and steps are taken which change the course of your relationship. But drama when you both arrive home put a stop to something great as soon as it has begun. Maybe those letters should have stayed a secret.

Warnings: Fighting, making out, allusions to cheating or going behind someones back, Changmin and y/n are dumb, crying

General Taglist: @hiseu @yeosayang @avyskai @whatudowhennooneseesyou @foxdaisy @lickslixie @maskedmochiii

Series Taglist: @calliopegoist @smuchsmut @ilikepalta @heednpy @ilovechanhee @quiltykissed @sanghak-enthusiast

Part of the ‘To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before’ Series

Series Masterlist

A/N: Well we are finally at the end. I’m so so excited and also sad that we have come to the end of this story. Things have changed a little bit while I was writing this and so I do have to apologise but there is no smut in this story. I just felt that it didn’t really fit with the plotline. Regardless I do really hope that you all enjoy it and thank you all so much for supporting this piece!

The university’s annual ski trip had been causing quite a stir around campus. You had never been, preferring to not join your classmates while they went away to get drunk, and instead simply stayed at home to get drunk instead. However, this year would be different.

Because you were now ‘dating,’ Changmin. Changmin, who always went on the ski trips. Changmin, who was holding your hand tightly as the two of you made your way to the bus, suitcases rolling alongside you as you walked. It was already too cold for you and you huffed softly as you realised it would only get colder when you got up to the lodge. Changmin smiled, looking down at you with his head tilted.

“You okay?”

“Just thinking about how cold it’s going to be up there.” You grumbled, making Changmin laugh.

“Oh you’ll be fine you big baby. If it makes you feel better,” he smiled. “I can always wrap you up in my arms on the bus.”

You pulled a face and shook your head, “That will not be necessary, just give me your jacket, I’ll be fine.”

“Oh come on,” Changmin tried to look unbothered, even as his heart clenched at the idea that you didn’t want him to cuddle you on the way to the lodge. He’d been thinking about it a lot since after Chanhee’s party and well…maybe he didn’t want to get back together with Gen anymore. Maybe, he wanted to be with you, really be with you, not just some fake relationship. Changmin wanted something real. He threw his arm around you as he led you onto the bus. “A jacket cannot compete with your own boyfriend.”

“Oh my god, get a room you two,” a venomous voice sounded from behind you and you turned to find Gen standing behind you, tapping her foot impatiently. “If you could not flaunt your disgusting relationship in front of the rest of us that would be amazing.”

“Gen, babes, the jealousy is showing,” Chanhee piped up from behind her, making you snort softly. Gen just huffed, rolling her eyes as she shoved you and Changmin aside to sit on the bus. The two of you turned to look at each other, eyebrows raised, before making your way to your own seats, Changmin letting you have the window side. You’d mentioned it in passing to him once, that you preferred sitting on the window side, because you loved watching the world go by and because you could easily lean your head against it to sleep. You hadn’t expected him to remember that about you, and you supposed that maybe he hadn’t, but your heart still warmed at the idea that he both listened to and remembered the little things you had told him. Speaking of little things, as you sat down, you noticed a scrunchie of yours around his wrist and your heart warmed even more. You grabbed his hand gently before looking up at him.

“You’re wearing one of my scrunchies?”

“Um, of course I am,” he sounded offended that you were even questioning him. “That’s like boyfriend 101 y/n. Didn’t you know that?”

“Why would I know boyfriend 101?”

He smiled and leaned forward to peck your nose, making you gasp softly “You watch all those stupid romance movies right?”

“Hey, I remember someone spending several hours watching those movies with me. And,” you pretended to think, grinning at him “I remember you crying to plenty of those movies with me too.”

“Okay, okay,” he put his hands up in defence “maybe I also enjoy those stupid romance movies. Which is how I know boyfriend 101.”

You rolled your eyes at him, leaning your head against his shoulder as the bus began to move away from your college campus and towards the ski lodge. You didn’t stay awake for very long, gently lulled into sleep by the movement of the bus and the softness of Changmin’s shoulder. Chanhee grinned at his friend and knocked him gently on the shoulder. He had been just watching you sleep quietly, a little smile on his face at how peaceful you looked and he frowned as he moved to look at Chanhee, mouthing a ‘what?’ at him.

“You are whipped my friend,” Chanhee smiled, laughing when Changmin flipped him off. He knew Chanhee was right, but he couldn't let him know that and turned back to you, beginning to pet your hair softly. Was it creepy of him to say that you looked beautiful like this? So soft and peaceful, it was beautiful. You stirred slightly in your sleep, moving slightly and your lips pressed against Changmin’s shoulder. His breath hitched and he smiled a little at the feeling as your eyes fluttered open. You pressed another, lazy kiss to his shoulder and looked up, narrowing your eyes at him when you noticed him watching you.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“No reason,” He hummed softly, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re just so pretty.”

You scrunched up your nose, pulling away from him a little bit. Your cheeks were hot and you hoped Changmin couldn’t feel the heat against his shoulder. “Don’t say stuff like that. I might actually fall in love with you Changmin.”

“How do you know that wasn’t my plan all along?”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head “Because if it was you wouldn’t have agreed to this whole arrangement.” There was a bitterness laced through your tone which you hoped Changmin would miss, but he didn’t, frowning a little.

“Correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t this your idea? You’re the one who wanted to get Chan off your back.”

“And you’re the one who wants to get back with Gen.” You hummed, pulling completely away from him and looking out the window, falling silent as the bus pulled up to the lodge. It was like you couldn’t wait to be free of Changmin, immediately walking off with a friend of yours once you had got off the bus. Changmin sighed, rubbing his eyes, before tensing up as Gen’s voice sounded from behind him. “Trouble in paradise?”

Changmin scoffed, turning to face her “No, Gen. We’re doing just fine.”

“Just saying,” she smiled, sickly sweet. “If things aren’t going well then,” she hummed, moving forward to press a key card into his hands. “You know where to find me.”

Changmin shivered as Gen pulled away, turning on her heel to head into the lodge. Chanhee placed a hand on his shoulder gently and began to lead him up to the lodge.

“You better not do anything stupid Min,” Chanhee’s voice was warning and Changmin nodded.

“I won’t.”

“Good. Because I saw y/n’s face when she looked at you. She cares about you, much more than Gen ever did.”

Changmin nodded again, a heavy pit beginning to open up in his heart. He should feel excited about all of this, you reciprocated his feelings, it wasn’t all just fake for you either. But he was also scared about what that would mean for the two of you.” He looked down at the key card Gen had given to him and sighed, putting it in his pocket.

He wouldn’t need it anyway.

It was cold. Far too cold to be wearing a swimsuit. And yet here you were. Although, you supposed that you would be getting into a hot tub soon.

Depending on what Changmin had to say to you, of course.

If you were being completely honest, you hadn’t expected to receive a message from him. You’d seen Gen slip her room’s keycard into his hands and assumed that it was the end for the two of you, perhaps it was and Changmin was just calling you to talk about how to stage your break-up.

He was already sat in the hot tub when you arrived and he sent you a small smile. You swallowed hard, standing outside the hot tub, arms crossed over your chest.

“You wanted to see me?” your voice was more venomous than perhaps you’d intended and Changmin winced, sitting up a bit.

“I think we should talk.”

“About what?”

“Us.” There was a pregnant pause and you motioned for him to continue speaking. “I think my reasoning for this relationship has changed.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, confused. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean…” he trailed off, sighing. “I don’t want to get back with Gen anymore.”

“So, you want to stop all this.”

“Well, yes…but no! I don’t want to stop us, just the fake part of us.”

You blinked, shaking your head in disbelief. What did he mean he wanted to end the fake part of you? Had you heard that right?

“Are you…are you sure?”

Changmin laughed softly, nodding. “Look, I’m not happy with the way this relationship started, but these past few months have been amazing. You’re funny and smart and gorgeous and I like watching those dumb romance movies with you and going out to eat and that night at Chanhee’s party when I was driving you home I looked over at you I realised that I didn’t really care if Gen was jealous of us, but I cared about how you felt. And on the bus on the way here, I just…I wanted you to feel safe and be happy and I wanted to be the cause of that. I want you y/n and if you don’t want me then that’s fine, I just had to tell you.”

You chewed at your lip, processing what Changmin had just told you. But even with your own reservations you couldn’t help the way your heart was thumping against your chest almost threatening to come out of your mouth.

“You…you mean all of that?”

“Of course I do.”

You gave him a small, soft smile. “I’d like that too, for us to be real I mean.”

“You do?” Changmin perked up a bit and his eagerness made you laugh softly.

“Yeah, I do.” You smile brightened and you shivered as a gust of cold air blew through the area. Changmin’s smile turned into a mischievous grin. He leaned back in the hot tub, spreading his legs invitingly and eyes trailing up your swimsuit-clad figure.

“Then do you want to join me?”

You felt hot under his gaze and blinked at him, not completely registering what he was saying, eyes too focused on the way his legs were spread, inviting you in. “Wh-what?”

“I’m just saying…” Changmin grinned “why would you be standing over there in the cold when you could be here? In this lovely hot tub.”

“Well I’m just…I don’t want to intrude.”

Changmin raised a questioning eyebrow “I invited you here didn’t I?”

“I suppose that’s true,” you rocked on your heels, arms still crossed over your chest.

“Then come over here.”

You nodded and felt your feet taking you over to Changmin.

What was the worst that could happen?

Changmin helped you into the hot tub, immediately pulling you into his lap. “This okay?”

“Yeah.” you nodded quickly, leaning into the touch of Changmin’s thumbs as he moved them across your face gently, as if mapping out the feel of it underneath his fingers. “Is it okay for you?”

“I wouldn’t have sat you here if it wasn’t,” he smiled, voice soft and brought his lips closer to yours. “Is it okay if I kiss you? I really want to kiss you.”

“Yes,” your voice was almost a whisper. “Please kiss me.”

Changmin let out a sigh of relief before brushing his lips with yours in a soft kiss, like he was testing the waters, seeing how you responded. When you responded well, he smiled against your lips before deepening the kiss, lips sliding against yours properly. The two of you spent some time just kissing, getting used to the feeling of each other’s lips and something which had been off limits up until five minutes ago. And Changmin was going to take full advantage of his desperation for you, pulling you so close to him that your chests and hips were flush against each other. The action made you gasp, breaking the kiss.

“Changmin.”

“Tell me if you want us to stop and I will, just say the word.”

You shook your head, looking at him like he was crazy. Why would you want him to stop? You repeated the question back to him and he laughed, hands beginning to make a light path down your face and underneath the water until they rested on your hips. “I don’t know. But I want you to be as comfortable as possible, I want you to know that if you don’t like anything, or anything is too much. You can tell me, and I’ll stop.”

“I trust you Changmin. And I promise, I’ll tell you if anything gets too much.”

Changmin smiled at that and brought your lips back down to his desperately, a little bit of water splashing out of the hot tub.

You could definitely get used to this.

“I promise I’ll call you when I get back to my place,” you laughed softly, letting Changmin squish your cheeks together as the two of you said goodbye to each other. The rest of the trip had been incredibly successful, for both you and Changmin and while you weren’t upset about no longer being in the freezing cold mountains, you had to admit that you would miss it.

“Good, I want to know you got home safe.” You rolled your eyes a little at Changmin’s dramatics and pressed a quick kiss to his lips.

“I’ll be fine you drama queen, I promise. Go have fun at Chanhee’s.”

Changmin smiled, leaning down to kiss you again before going to join Chanhee and Younghoon. Just as Changmin left your sight, Gen entered it and you almost audibly sighed. You opened your mouth to ask what she wanted but as your eyes landed on her wrist, specifically the scrunchie around it.

“What is that?”

Gen looked down at her wrist and gasped, looking back at you with a grin that was just too wide to be friendly. “Oh this? Changmin gave it to me. He visited me last night…”

You couldn’t even hear the rest of what Gen was saying, if she was even saying anything at all, all you could hear was white noise, and all you could see was red. How dare he, after that whole speech, after you had trusted him with your emotions, with your body. How could he do that to you? You pushed past Gen, marching over to where Changmin was standing with Chanhee and Younghoon, he smiled at you but it immediately faded after he saw the look on your face.

“How dare you Ji Changmin? You…I trusted you. And you,” you rubbed at the angry tears threatening from your eyes. “You went and saw her, even after everything you said. We’re through Changmin. Congratulations, now you can have everything you want,” You turned on your heel and stormed off, ignoring Changmin calling your name.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, both of your sisters were sat outside your dorm room when you arrived, they instantly noticed something was wrong and wrapped you up in a hug, bringing you inside.

“I can’t believe that asshole,” your older sister scoffed, your younger one agreeing.

“Me either, I thought he was really good for you.”

“Yeah well,” you sniffled. “Guess he wasn’t.”

Your older sister nodded, wrapping her arm around you. The three of you sat together for a while until the doorbell rang. You all looked at each other before making your way to the door, still wrapped in a hug, just one which was less tight than before. You gasped when you opened it, coming face to face with both Chan and Changmin.

“What…What are you doing here? Both of you?”

Changmin glared at Chan “I was about to ask the same question. Y/n, please let me explain the Gen thing, I didn’t go see her, she cornered me in the hall after I dropped you at your room and..” he trailed off at the shake of your head.

“You still gave her my scrunchie, my favourite scrunchie.”

“Really dude?” Changmin turned to face Chan as he spoke, glaring at him.

“No one asked for your opinion, seriously, why are you even here?”

“I came to finally talk to y/n about the letter and her feelings for me.”

“Sorry?” your older sister blinked, unwrapping her arms from around you. “You have feelings for Chan?”

“Not anymore, I used to though.”

“When him and I were together?” You looked away from your sister and she scoffed “Wow, some sister you are,” she turned on her heel, making her way into the guest bedroom, door slamming behind her. Chan looked shocked and Changmin looked like he was ready to punch something, namely Chan.

“You actually have feelings for this guy?” Changmin’s words were venomous and you shook your head.

“No, I used to. And why does it even matter? You and I aren’t together, you made it really clear that Gen will always be your number one priority.” Both Changmin and Chan made moves to speak again and you shook your head. “Please, just go, both of you.”

Chan nodded, defeated and left, Changmin looking at you one last time before doing the same.

How had everything become so messy?

“Hey, can we talk?”

Chan looked up from where he was sitting at your voice and nodded, moving over so that you could sit next to him. It had been a week since the ski trip and you had managed to patch things up with your older sister. Your younger sister had, unsurprisingly, revealed that she was the mysterious sender of your letters and now, it was your job to fix everything between you and both Chan and Changmin.

“What do you want to talk about?” Chan wasn’t looking at you, picking at the grass instead and you sighed.

“I’m really sorry about dragging you into all of this. You didn’t deserve it. I just,” you laughed a little bit. “I had liked you for a really long time, like a really long time. But when you started dating my sister I pushed all of those feelings down. When I found out the two of you had split, all those feelings came back and the only way I could think of dealing with them was to write it all out. I never meant for them to be sent but even so, I should have just explained what was happening instead of trying to run from you.”

There was a small silence before Chan spoke, looking at you as he did. “You should have just been honest with me, yes, but I don’t blame you. It must have felt like a betrayal to your sister to have feelings for me and you didn’t want to hurt her, I understand y/n.”

“You do?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled softly. “And I’m not upset about the letter being sent to me either, the way you write is incredibly beautiful, even if you don’t feel that way about me anymore, I’m happy knowing that there was a time where you did.”

“You’re way too nice to me Chan.”

“Nah,” he grinned. “I’m just your friend.”

“Speaking of, you think we could go back to being friends?”

“Of course,” he threw his arm around you, making you laugh. “So, what are you going to do about Changmin?”

“Is it bad if I say absolutely nothing?” Chan raised an eyebrow at you and you groaned. “I just…I really don’t know how he feels about me. It’s like, he says he wants to be with me and then goes and gives Gen my scrunchie.”

Chan hummed low “Do you think maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he sighed. “Look I think he’s an asshole for the whole scrunchie thing, but also I don’t believe that he actively went out to see her. I mean, you know Gen, she’s like insanely possessive over him and she hates you because you are-were with him. Doesn’t it make sense that she’d twist events around to stir up trouble.”

“I mean yeah, you’re probably right.”

“Exactly, besides, Changmin’s been head over heels for you since you guys kissed at that party senior year.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow at Chan “Really?”

He nodded “Really. Honestly it used to make me a bit jealous, but I’ve seen the way you two are around each other, even when your relationship was fake, it wasn’t really.”

“So what do you think I should do?”

“I think you should go talk to him,” Chan gestured to where Changmin was walking across campus with some of his friends. “You both need to be on the same page.”

You nodded, standing up, “Thanks Chan.”

Chan smiled “that’s what friends are for. Now go get your man.” You nodded again, jogging down the hill to catch up with Changmin.

“Changmin wait!” he stopped at the sound of your voice and turned, looking incredibly confused.

“I thought you never wanted to speak to me again.” You shook your head at his words.

“I’m sorry for just jumping to conclusions about what happened to you and Gen. I should have known that she was just trying to stir up drama between us, but I let her get to me because I was insecure about your feelings for me.”

“Why would you be insecure about how I feel about you?”

“Are you kidding? Changmin you’re so popular on campus, everyone you’ve ever met likes you, you were dating Gen for crying out loud.”

“Yeah but she wasn’t you,” he took your hands in his. “Gen will never be you. She will never make me feel the way you do and I’m sorry that my actions haven’t reflected that. But I love you, I think I’ve loved you for longer than I realised.”

You swallowed hard “You love me?”

“Of course I love you, you’re y/n.”

You laughed a little bit, eyes misting with happy tears. “I love you too Changmin, but if we’re going to be together, then there are things we need to talk about, to work through before that.”

Changmin nodded “I know, and I’ll do that and I’ll wait however long I need to. I’ve been waiting for years, what’s a little more time?”

And as you leaned up to kiss him, for the first time, you didn’t feel worried about what other people were thinking as they saw the two of you.

Perhaps your letters were never supposed to make their way out of your hatbox and into the world, perhaps they were meant to stay as your secrets, locked up in your heart where no one else would ever be able to find them. Or perhaps they were supposed to be released. Maybe, after all this time, you needed to let go of those lost and long ago loves, to accept new ones into your life. You didn’t know what the original plan had been and you never would, nor did you care. Because the release of those letters had brought you a beautiful thing, one that not even a piece of pink paper could destroy. It had brought you a real love.

And that was more precious than any letter you had written before.

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#kpop smut #hard thoughts with rose #soft thoughts with rose #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #ji changmin fluff #ji changmin smut #ji changmin imagines #changmin fluff #changmin smut #the boyz soft hours #kpop soft hours #kpop angst

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kitschun · 6 months

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Need 4 Speed: Circuit Breakers

Summary: The infamous Hak's Garage, owned by well-respected technical expert Ju Haknyeon and financed by the retired underground drag racer Lee Sangyeon. Hak's Garage is an inconspicuous daytime automotive garage that offers your average vehicle tuning and modification. It's during the nighttime when the place starts to let loose and becomes the go-to spot for anyone and everyone who has an inkling of fascination for cars. Get to know the Circuit Breakers under this well-loved garage below!

Tags: Underground street racer!AU for The Boyz

Hyunjae. Hyunjae was the first racer Sangyeon took under his wing. They both pretty much grew up with each other in the earlier days of the Circuit, and whilst Sangyeon has found peace in retiring from official matches, Hyunjae never found it in himself to give up the steering wheel just yet. But of course, nowadays it’s so rare to actually even see him racing in the streets. A former underground prodigy forced to grow up. He spends the majority of his waking hour working as a higher up for a company his own father built. Every now and then, when the 9-5 gets too tough, when Lee Jaehyun gives his name up to be just Lee Hyunjae, he finds himself racing down the streets in his beloved McLaren 765LT. All the way down to Hak’s Garage where he allows himself to forget the weight of the world even if for just one night.

Juyeon. Often described as cold and calculating, Juyeon is not one to bask in the spotlight of being a well-known underground racer. There seems to be history between him and the infamous Lee Hyunjae but the latter rarely shows himself in the scene anymore. The only people that seem to know the story between them are Sangyeon and Haknyeon themselves. There’s a sense of fire behind Juyeon that makes his opponents fear him in the streets. For one, he is smart. He rarely utters more than two words to anyone outside his crew yet everyone can see the confidence behind his every move. From bold last minute turns, to haphazard decisions to fly over an open bridge. Juyeon is starting to gain notoriety over his seemingly reckless driving skills.

Kevin Moon. The Phantom Operator of the Circuit. Kevin Moon owns a flashy bee-striped 1969 Chevrolet Camaro that was passed down to him by his father. He often frequented stadiums alongside his sister as a kid and has since been enamored with the loud sounds of revving cars and the boisterous lifestyle of its drivers. Although his sister pretty much grew out of it by the time their father retired, Kevin was never able to let go of the exhilarating rush he felt during his time in the stadiums. Except this time, he partakes in illegal races as opposed to his father’s very legal ones. Kevin Moon did not have the patience to build his way up to NASCAR level and so he took his passion to the streets.

Chanhee. An avid collector of cars, clothes, and anything that screamed luxury. Chanhee was one of the conundrums in the underground street racing scene. One would think he would be up there with the sponsors with his vast amount of wealth and resources, but the boy actually preferred the highways than the stuffy room the executives hole themselves in. He’s amassed a pretty spectacular collection of both vintage and new muscle cars — but his favorite out of all of them is his 2023 Mazda MX-5 he’s recently purchased. He’s fair game in the streets but he’s found more solace in participating in mountain drift races.

Q. Another one of the conundrums under Sangyeon’s belt — Changmin (or Q as he liked being called) is one of the more versatile racers in the Circuit. He’s one of the rarer collectors that preferred the sweet revv of an import over any muscle car currently in the market. Changmin is a wildcard amongst sponsors, he’s not afraid of taking up challenges with all-in stakes and no one is for certain if it’s because he wholeheartedly believes he’s going to win or if he’s just being as reckless as Sunwoo when it comes to racing. Whatever it is, Changmin is certainly one who's caught the eye of a notorious sponsor that’s adamant in taking him from under Sangyeon’s wing.

Sunwoo. Reckless street racer Sunwoo who’s earned himself the nickname “Echo” both from local authorities and the underground racing scene. He drives around his mute black 2016 Dodge Charger so fast that the only sign of him ever actually being there is the echo of his revving engine from down the street. He’s a well-known drag racer in his early days but has since moved on to circuit racing. It was only a matter of time because he’s grown notorious for always having run-ins with authority, yet the thing is — he’s never actually been caught before. He’s reckless and egotistical behind the wheel but Sangyeon and the other’s know he’s a good kid at heart. It just so happens that driving around the city haphazardly is what gets his blood pumping.

Eric Sohn. Junior mechanic turned illegal drag racer under Sangyeon��s wing. Eric has been surrounded by automotives his entire life and it was to no surprise that he found himself gravitating towards underground racing. He built his beloved 2017 Dodge Challenger from scrap and has since used it to win drag races in and around the Circuit. On multiple different occasions, a couple of sponsors from the Circuit tried to sway Eric away from the garage but his loyalty to Sangyeon and the crew was so fierce that they were only met with the rare sight of Eric getting mad. He believes in fate and destiny - much to the chagrin of Sunwoo - but that belief has gotten him this far and he’s not about to let go of it anytime soon.

Get to know the Skeleton Crew that runs the garage here!

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hcuyk · 1 month

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okay since you're back, may i please request something around 4am with changmin (or sunwoo?) and make it angst or comfort or whatever just because why not thank you my love i'm so happy you're here you don't imagine how much

[4:01AM]

Not often did you wake up in the middle of the night, yet something felt different. Maybe it was because there was a sudden lump that had developed within your pillow or the temperature in the room had changed, but your dream had slowly faded into darkness. As you adjusted to your senses and reality itself, your eyes fluttered open and caught a glimpse of Changmin in the dark.

Your eyes traced the silhouette illuminated by the moon, noticing his eyes wide and fixated on the ceiling. Unsure of both the time and if Changmin had noticed you, you scooted over to where he was and wrapped your arms around one of his, hugging it close to your chest.

“Why are you up?” you mumbled while tucking your nose behind his shoulder, wanting to remain as close as possible.

Changmin turned his head to face you, slightly startled that you had woken up, but his parted lips of shock curled up into a warm smile—it was almost impossible to not be in love whenever he saw you. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before shifting in his spot, adjusting so he could bring you into his arms.

“Why are you awake, hm?” He pulled you in close and against his chest, allowing you to snuggle up against him within his embrace.

“I asked you first,” you retaliated. You gave him an exaggerated pout before having it interrupted with a yawn. He shook his head and laughed at you softly, his arms squeezing you. He then had one of his hands gently pat you on the head, providing a weak attempt to get you back to sleep.

“Just woke up randomly, and I couldn’t go back asleep,” he whispered.

“You better not be bullshitting.” He giggled at your grumble, causing you to shuffle your feet under the comforters and kick his legs when you found them. Changmin then burst out in laughter at your terrible attempt and refuted the action by locking his legs around yours, trapping you completely in his hold.

Instead of fighting back, your tired state melted against him, but you still glared at him as a threat.

“I’m not bullshitting, I promise.” Your skepticism made him coo and kiss your nose, watching as your bunched-up facial features began to relax.

“We sleep together?” Noticing your slight worry, he nodded and pressed a soft kiss against your lips to reassure you.

“We sleep together.”

It had taken less than a few minutes for you to knock out, but Changmin was still completely awake. He would play with your hair, tucking strands behind your ear, before his thoughts drifted off once more. He kissed your cheek with a whispered ‘I love you’ before untangling himself from you to glance at the ceiling once more.

His eyes then trailed over to the nightstand by their bed, and without much thought, he silently pulled out the drawer to take out a small velvet box. He flipped it open to reveal the ring he had bought you and raised it to where the moon was shining, wanting to look at it one last time before officially getting down on one knee for you.

His heart thudded against his chest and fluttered the moment he thought about you wearing it on your ring finger. He smiled and put it away so he could go back to holding you, finally relaxed enough to fall back asleep.

You were his forever, and he couldn’t wait for tomorrow.

permanent taglist . . . @armysantiny @stealanity @zzoguri @nyujjan @tinisprout @the-kpop-simp

author's note // first timestamp for changmin! (the other one was unhinged and we pretend it doesn't exist 😭). matty my biggest supporter ilysmsmsmsmsmsmsm thank you for sending this in i hope you enjoy ALSO this may or may not be canon kidult changmin 🫣

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sungbeam · 1 year

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OFF THE RECORD ▷ PART ONE (EP1-8)

nonidol!ji changmin x fem!reader

everyone thinks changmin is cute and harmless, but you know that's not who he really is.

▷ genre, part warnings. e2l, childhood friends gone bad, (extra) slow burn, fluff, angst, mentions of childhood trauma and parental manipulation, arguing, bittersweet galore, nct ten is there for the sole purpose of being nosy like the rest of us or for being a 2nd male lead who knows!, swearing, hurt/comfort, ji changmin dancing. (need i go on), symptoms of panic/anxiety, a lot of non-tbz moments sorry i meant it when i said extra slow burn, pining haha...ha (very subtle)

▷ PART ONE WC. 18.5k

this is the third installment of the love in unity series! this can be read as a standalone, but i encourage u to read jacob and eric's storylines too! all prev and future yns will be referred to as _!yn ;) / otr part two

a/n: this was going to be a very quirky author's note, but it's not anymore bc i'm really mad at tumblr. pls enjoy :')

EPISODE ONE (PILOT): OFF THE CLOCK

"NIGHT, Yn!"

"Good night, Yn-ie."

"Make sure you get some rest, Yn-ah! Good luck with the report."

The door out of the laboratory building shuttered closed after your last coworkers and peers swept out to leave you to the white noise of the lights above your head and the cooling units. You were probably the only person crazy enough to still be chained to your lab workbench on a Friday night, especially when it was already six o'clock. Your stomach growled its complaints as you tucked a pen behind your ear with a sigh. There was probably a bag of shrimp chips in the break room snack stash, and you pushed your stool beneath the workbench to head into the break room.

Now that the laboratory was practically barren except for you, it wouldn't be a bad idea to take the reign of Kun's speaker…

The sound of your phone ringtone blared out loud from your pocket, and you scrambled to grab it with your other hand not occupied with shrimp chip crumb dust (after having washed your hands, of course). You put the call on speaker then deposited your phone onto the countertop so both hands could be used for eating. "Yo."

"You've been hanging around Mark too much," Yeri answered from the other end.

You snorted, covering your mouth for a moment, then replying, "Well good evening to you, too, my beloved. What's up?"

You could hear the muffled sounds of your friends from the other side of the phone. A car door slammed shut. "Hey-yo, is that Yn? Yn, what's up, my dude?"

"Mark, can you speak like a regular human?" That was Seungkwan. "Hi Yn-ie! We miss you, mwah!"

"Look, man. Me and Yn are homies, and this is literally just how I talk—"

The car door opened and Yeri must have taken initiative to get out of the car herself at this point. You laughed at her audible eye roll. "Okay, now that you've heard what I have to deal with, will you tell me that you're coming to the dance draft show tonight?"

Your mood soured.

It wasn't that you didn't want to go for Yeri's sanity's sake, you just didn't want to go, period. What the performing arts called a rehearsal, they referred to as a "draft" stage, where they planned rough runs of acts for the showcase. It just so happened that the dance department was holding their draft show for people to sit-in to watch tonight; their final showcase would be held on the Friday night of finals week, which was only in a few weeks now.

(Why did they call it a "draft" stage instead of simply a "rehearsal"? Well, you had no clue, and you didn't have any plans to ask anyone who would know the answer.)

When you didn't immediately answer, you heard Yeri's grumble. "Don't nerd out on me, Miss Yn Ln."

You gasped. "Nerd out on you? I'm being responsible—"

"You're being a workaholic!"

You pursed your lips together and quickly rinsed your fingers of shrimp chip crumbs. "Fair. But I'm sorry, I'm not going."

A brief pause. Then, the sigh. "Okay. That's okay," she said. "Wanna meet us for dinner afterwards at least?"

Your stomach grumbled, right on cue. It wasn't loud enough for Yeri to hear on the other end, but the timing made you laugh to yourself. "Definitely."

There was a smile in your friend's voice. "Cool! I'll text you details once we figure out what's happening. In the mean—" her voice was interrupted by the sound of muffled yelling on the other side, and Yeri pulled her mouth away from the phone so she could screech at Seungkwan, Mark, and now, Kim Jungwoo, to be quiet and put their seatbelts on. You heard vaguely about Jungwoo being late for his call time, and you were not at all surprised. She returned to the phone with a grumble. "You're really leaving me with the kids, Yn?"

You giggled. "Sorry, Yeri. I'll pay for your dinner."

"Deal. See you soon, babe."

"See ya, love!"

When the phone call ended, you realized just how thick the silence fell around you. It settled like a blanket over your senses, and it all became a bit overwhelming, especially after such a loud phone call.

You sighed, putting the shrimp chips back in the snack stash. You might as well go find where Kun hid his speaker to fill the silence then.

— ✶

People were yelling. And tripping. And crying.

In retrospect, this constituted as a normal backstage environment for something like a finals showcase draft rehearsal. It was hardly even a rehearsal, but more so a sneak peek showcase. There were people in the audience, after all.

Ji Changmin would know. This would be his third winter draft show out of his three years here in university. There were always showcases at the end of each quarter, but the winter show wielded the title of most anticipated. With the cold and rainy weather keeping most people indoors, it allowed for a larger crowd to come flocking toward said indoor modes of entertainment. Thus, the winter showcase and all of its hype.

Changmin lingered in his little corner of the backstage area, calmly stretching out his lanky limbs while chaos erupted all around him. He had two acts this time around—a duet with Lee Juyeon, as well as a solo performance. It had been enough to keep him busy for the quarter, among his other classes.

"—Jungwoo, you're late!"

He raised his head at the sound of Lee Minho’s voice from across the room, the dirty blond sending a deadpanned glare at the man in question. Kim Jungwoo’s eyes were wide with doe-like innocence as he made his way toward his friend, his posse following behind and taking in the chaos with amused awe. Changmin could easily recognize those present—Kim Yeri, Mark Lee, and Boo Seungkwan.

He turned his head away; it wasn’t his business, and he had much bigger things to worry about.

He raised his hands to his neck to put his headphones over his ears, but paused when he caught a few more echoes of their conversation.

“ — sorry Minho, but you know I can’t resist getting a free carpool ride,” Jungwoo said while setting his duffle bag in the corner and swiftly joining Minho in stretches. If Changmin was a hard ass when it came to dance and schedules, Minho was much worse. But Changmin respected him a lot, especially in a craft like dance and performance—he saw him as an equal.

A sigh from Minho. “Yeah, yeah. Poor Yeri.”

Yeri huffed, her hands shooting up into the air. “Thank you!”

Minho folded his arms over his chest as he stood up straight to stand next to Yeri as the two of them absentmindedly watched Jungwoo fold himself in two to stretch his long legs out. “Huh, no Yn tonight?”

Changmin didn’t know why he was still listening. He slowly lowered his headphones back to their position around his neck, then resumed stretching out his hamstrings. He could wait a couple more minutes before getting into his choreography…

“You know you’re not gonna see her anywhere near this place,” Yeri said with a pointed look. Changmin held back a retort, or even a snort. “Wanna get dinner with us tonight? She’s coming to meet us after the show.”

“Ah, I’d love to, but I promised Jisung I’d swing by the studio afterwards. Hey, have you met Ten yet? You should ask…”

Changmin decided that this was an appropriate moment to tune out. He swiftly donned his headphones and reached for his phone hidden in the pile of his duffle bag and jackets in the corner. He didn’t even know why he listened in when your friends brought you up. Why were you even still connected to the dance and performing arts department people anyway? He huffed, rolling his eyes with a small shake of his head. It wasn’t like you wanted to be connected to dance anyway. So why give him a constant reminder of your existence and the past you shared—

“Changminnie!” Juyeon appeared in front of him, waving to him with that goofy smile to get his attention.

Changmin broke into a smile as he shifted one side of his headphones from his ear. “Hey. Wanna go over some of the routine?”

Juyeon nodded. “Yeah, I’m ready. I was trying to get your attention, but I think you were just occupied.”

Whoops. Changmin flicked his wrist as he followed Juyeon down the hallway to a more private place to practice with his friend. “Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking of something.”

“Oh, okay,” Juyeon ducked his head into an empty dressing room in the back hallway, beckoning Changmin to follow him in. “Nothing to worry about though? You can talk to me; no judgment.”

Changmin chuckled and closed the door behind him. “Nah, nothing important. Let’s just focus on the performance.” Anything involving you? Definitely not important anymore.

— ✶

Late February brought the cold, bitter winds of night to the university, so the trek all the way across campus from the laboratory buildings to the performing arts hall was a hellish one. You kept your head tucked into the puffy collar of your puffer jacket, hands stuffed into your pockets, a happy tune blasting in your ears to keep you going all the way up the road. It was around nine o’clock by the time you made it to the front of the performing arts hall, and you could already see the sea of people meandering outside its doors post-draft show.

You shivered and pulled your phone out from your pocket to see where your friends were waiting for you.

“Yn-ie!”

Your head lifted and you grinned, waving your hand at Seungkwan who was making his way over to you. “Hi Kwannie,” you greeted and wrapped your arms around him in a warm embrace.

When you’d pulled away, Seungkwan made a face as he shuddered. “Jesus, it’s cold. I should have brought a scarf or something. Did you walk here?”

You began to nod, but he tsked. “Aish, Yn. You should’ve called! No one should have to walk in this torturous cold.”

You laughed. “It’s no big deal. We’re about to go get some hot food, so it’s cool.”

“We might have to wait for a little longer.” Both you and Seungkwan turned toward Yeri, Mark, and Jungwoo who were walking over. Jungwoo had a sweatband holding his bangs out of his face and his duffle slung over his shoulder. He had his jacket draped over his arm; he was probably warm from the showcase. “We’re waiting on Ten to finish up.”

“Hi Jungwoo,” you greeted him, and the man returned the expression with a side hug. You furrowed your brows. “Who’s Ten?’’

Mark replied with a sniffle from the cold, “Oh, he’s a new exchange student! Well, he was originally admitted here, but he went abroad for a year. He's with the NCT frat. Super cool, super funny. He’s great at dance though.”

“I think you’ll vibe with him, Yn,” Yeri chimed in. “He’s asking a couple people for their opinion on a few parts of his routine, so I think he’ll be out soon.”

You nodded in understanding. You didn’t mind waiting, but you hoped what Yeri said about him was true. Hopefully you did get along with him, because you were honestly far too tired to forcefully play nice. You were hoping for a chill night anyway. Then again, as long as you could avoid a certain someone tonight, this would turn out to be a chill night in general.

You and your friends chatted for a few minutes only before Jungwoo caught someone’s eyes from behind you, Yeri, and Mark. He brightened. “Ten! Ten, over here!”

You all swiveled.

Ten was just as lean and lithe as Jungwoo was, but with black bangs, a pair of round spectacles hanging from the collar of his white T-shirt, and a cute smile on his face. You and he made brief eye contact before Jungwoo was hopping on the balls of his feet to greet him.

Jungwoo slung an arm around Ten’s shoulders as he brought him over to the group. “Yn, this is Ten Lee. Ten, this is Yn-ie—the friend we mentioned earlier.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “Why was I mentioned?” You laughed nervously.

Ten flashed you a boyish kind of smile. “Oh, it was nothing; don’t worry. It’s nice to meet you though.”

Your heart didn't slow at his assurance. “Ah, okay then. Uh, nice to meet you, too!”

“Did you get your routine settled?” Seungkwan asked as the lot of you began to move in one, loose blob toward Yeri’s car. (How all of you would manage to fit, that was something you mentally were trying to figure out. In Yeri’s tiny sedan, you might have to squish four people into the back seat.)

Ten nodded enthusiastically. “Yup, it’s all sorted. Minho and Changmin were really helpful with their comments.”

You felt the people around you freeze at the mention of Changmin’s name. You stiffened as well, but tried to force the strange feeling to go away. Your friends knew the drill, too, but you saw the way they glanced at you from their periphery.

Ten was smart, you realized, when his head tilted at all of your reactions.

Time for damage control. “That’s—that’s good!” Mark’s voice cracked and coughed to clear it. “I mean, Minho’s always been really attentive to details and stuff. I think he was almost recruited to become an idol or something like that…”

Ten pursed his lips, as if silently saying, ‘I’m not buying this bull’. You decided to just… do it. “Changmin’s a great dancer, too,” you said, and everyone shot disbelieving glances your way, but you could already see how Ten was grasping onto everything you were saying. You forced a neutral tone into the way you spoke, forced yourself not to let the bitterness seep through. No one deserved to fall victim to the feelings that were only meant for one Ji Changmin. “I’m glad he helped you out. He’s really good at sharp movements and isolations.”

“Oh, do you dance, Yn?” Ten piped up with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Ruh roh,” you heard Seungkwan murmur, and he shuffled away from you to go to the other side of Yeri’s car.

Maybe you purposefully let him see right through you. “Not really. It was a long time ago.”

You and Ten held eye contact, the silent tension like communication passed between the two of you—this was personal, but Ten could figure out that there was more to the story. It was odd though; the way he didn’t fear prodding just a little bit. You didn’t know why you were letting yourself feed him more bait, but Yeri was hollering for the two of you to squeeze into the backseat, and you snapped out of it.

Weird…

Ten held the backseat door open for you. “Looking forward to getting to know you, Yn,” he said pleasantly.

Your eyes narrowed slightly as you slipped into the backseat. “Same to you…”

EPISODE TWO: OFF THE TABLE

YOUR curiosity won you out.

In fact, it won you over so much that you agreed to get coffee with Ten Saturday afternoon—with Mark and Yeri, of course. The four of you had coordinated stopping by one of the coffee shops in the shopping mall just down the hill from the university to hang out and destress a little from the incoming second wave of STEM midterms. Well, you needed to destress. Mark was in communications, Yeri in psychology, and Ten was… what was Ten’s major again?

“Foreign affairs,” he answered before lifting the straw of his iced americano to his lips. “Lots of foreign language classes and politics and history. Politics and capitalism classes are not my favorite, but all the cultural courses on campus are really great.”

You bobbed your head, propping your chin onto your palm. You sat across from him at one of high tables in the cafe; Mark and Yeri’s stools were barren, save for the belongings they left for you and Ten to watch, while they literally sprinted across the mall to the grocery store because they forgot they were supposed to bring booze to the NCT-RVE joint alumni homecoming tonight. You probably weren’t going to go just because social energy came in short supply these days, but you promised to send a card for your friends in RVE.

“I can imagine,” you commented. “I took a really neat course on African tribes and culture in freshman year, and I miss my professor a lot. I sometimes wonder what would have happened had I joined his study abroad program in Ghana instead of staying here.”

Ten’s head did the tilt thing again, the one you recognized from last night as something he did when he was intrigued. “That does sound really cool. What made you stay?”

Where do I even begin? “My major,” you replied simply. It wasn’t really a lie—not entirely a lie. You sipped on your latte, a faraway look in your eyes. “I was so set on a plan that I guess I got nervous about the unknown should I have gone on that trip.”

“Mm, I understand.” He had taken on a softer look now, something more akin to empathy. “It is a little scary, but while I was in Indonesia, I realized I wouldn’t have traded such an experience for anything else."

You set your cup down. "Have you always wanted to dabble in global affairs?"

"Uh, I'm not sure," he said, head tilted upward with a scrunch in his nose. He nudged his glasses up the smooth slope of his sculpted nose. "I was kind of put in a situation where I had to learn a lot of new languages, and I luckily turned out to be pretty good at picking up on them."

"Wow, that's really cool," you chuckled. A talent you definitely envied. And it seemed like Ten had made the decision to pursue this future of his on his own. You wished you could say the same.

From the counter of the café, you heard one of the workers call out your order number for cinnamon rolls, fresh from the oven.

You began to slip off your stool, and Ten spoke up, "Oh, I can totally go get those."

"It's no problem," you chirped, "I'm already down anyway." You were swift to scurry over to the counter and pick up your table's tray of cinnamon rolls with a smile at the worker in deep gratitude. The thick, warm sweetness wafted into your nose, and you inhaled the delights with a blissful grin.

However, as you turned to head back to the table, you halted abruptly, nearly knocking the plates on the tray into each other.

There, standing next to your table and chatting with Ten, were Ji Changmin and Choi Chanhee.

Great.

The sweet dessert smell soured and tasted like acid on your tongue. Bitter, like the taste of hot coffee straight from the pot. You schooled your face into neutrality, but there was no way all of the uncomfortableness could stay away.

You made your way over; the tray was getting heavy.

"—actually here with Yn, Mark, and Yeri—" Ten was pointing your way and you had to control your urge to hide.

Changmin and Chanhee's heads turned in sync, but only Changmin's eyes narrowed at the sight of you. You returned the expression wholeheartedly.

Chanhee held his breath, muttering a "Yikes" under his breath, while Ten observed the interaction with slightly parted lips. Huh.

"Ji."

"Ln."

You deposited the tray onto the table and your biceps sighed in relief. Those four cinnamon rolls truly were quite hefty on their own.

You could still feel Changmin’s eyes on you as you slid onto the stool across from Ten. “Something you’d like to say to me?” You addressed him with ill-suppressed snark.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed. “Nothing that you’ll take into importance anyway. Just didn’t think you would ever hang out with someone from the dance department.”

“Ten’s got a life outside of dance, Changmin,” you replied. You flashed him a thin-lipped smile. “He gets it.”

“And you’re so much better than me for having a so-called life,” he rolled his eyes. “You know, some people are just really passionate about dance—something you seem to still not understand.”

“I really don’t think you want me to bring up the trove of things you don’t understand—”

Chanhee subtly moved over to Ten’s side as the two of them observed the sparring match between you and Changmin. A sigh fell from his lips, and his eyebrows raised up all the way to his pink-dyed hairline.

Ten had taken one of the plates of cinnamon buns in front of him, silently offering Chanhee some. The latter refused, and Ten began to peel away one of the sultry, sweet dough layers. “Is this… normal?” He asked Chanhee under his breath, motioning to the still-bickering couple across from them.

Chanhee snorted. “It’s their mating call.”

It seemed he had said those four words loud enough to catch yours and Changmin’s attention. A miracle, indeed.

“Ew,” both you and Changmin immediately grimaced at Chanhee. Then you looked at one another with a greater degree of disgust. “Stop copying me!”

…Or, less so a miracle, but rather, a tragedy.

Chanhee let out a haggard sigh, eyes sullen to a deadpan. “One of the few things the two of you will ever agree on.”

“The last thing we’ll ever agree on,” Changmin grumbled as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “C’mon Chanhee. We should probably order before JC!Yn and Kei finish loading up the car.”

Changmin was already making his way over to the cashier when Ten managed to get in a final question, “Are you guys coming to the NCT-RVE homecoming tonight?”

“Sure—”

“No.”

Chanhee sent Ten an apologetic look for Changmin’s brusque answer. “Sorry about him. We were thinking of it, but he might be practicing with Juyeon tonight. See you later, Ten—and Yn!” He chased after Changmin, ambushing his friend by practically leaping onto his back and then smacking his shoulder.

Now that Changmin was away from you, the red in your vision had begun to clear away, and you finally remembered the set of delicious cinnamon rolls waiting for you.

Ten propped his cheek against his fist. “So… you and Changmin…”

You made a sour face as you cut off a slice of your cinnamon roll. “What about the gremlin?” You asked. As soon as the buttery, sweet delight hit your tongue, you felt your body lighten and you did a little happy dance in your seat.

Ten chuckled at your behavior. “Lovers gone wrong?”

You choked on the bite.

Your new friend’s eyes widened comically to the size of saucers as he literally pounced across the table to pat your back. “Shit—sorry, Yn. I probably should’ve waited for you to finish swallowing, huh?” He winced when you’d managed to breathe correctly and washed the bite of food down with a sip of coffee. He returned to his perch, letting you recover while he talked through his thoughts. “I don’t mean to pry—actually—” he paused, reconsidering, “—I do mean to pry. Sorry, I’m kind of a sucker for this kind of stuff.”

One of your eyes squinted at him as you massaged your throat. “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

He beamed at you boyishly, the kind of expression that almost had your defenses slipping. Almost. Ten was one slippery fellow. For some reason, you kind of respected him for being upfront about the nosiness, and if you were being honest, if this drama wasn’t yours, you would also be curious about the whole thing.

“Can’t help myself sometimes,” he confessed with a mere shrug. “You don’t owe an explanation or backstory, of course.”

You sucked in a breath, opting to hold back on eating your pastry until you and Ten were done with this topic. “I’m just going to say that Changmin and I were not ‘lovers gone wrong’,” you said, body shuddering.

“Mm,” he hummed. His eyes wandered behind you and over your head, swiftly followed by the action of waving to Changmin and Chanhee on their way out of the cafe. “It’s just interesting to me. Didn’t you just advocate for him the other night at the draft show?”

That rang a bell, unfortunately. “It’s complicated.”

Ten pressed his mouth into a saccharine smile. “I can imagine.”

EPISODE THREE: OFF THE PHONE

THERE was an avid knocking at the laboratory door, usually done by those who didn’t actually work at this specific lab. This lab area was usually reserved for upperclassmen and graduate students and their work.

“Yn-ie, could you get the door, please?” You heard Kun called out to you from his office. It wasn’t just the two of you tonight, but rather, just a few others you didn’t know as well as you did Kun. He often worked late hours like you did, always overworking himself even more as a fresh grad student. You, on the other hand, were trying to finish up this one research paper resulting from last quarter’s research project. If you were lucky, you would be able to send it off to be peer reviewed soon.

You slipped out from behind your workbench and maneuvered the maze of workbenches to head out into the corridor. Exhaustion wore at your bones from having such a long day, but you really did need to get some productive work done so you could focus specifically on your midterms approaching at the end of this week and the beginning of the following week.

However, as you turned the corner into the corridor, you nearly missed your footing. At the end of the hallway where the glass door to the outside was, you found yourself identifying one Ji Changmin and his friend, someone you didn’t recognize. The latter wore a gray hoodie beneath a black puffer vest, and he reacted the opposite to how Changmin did when they caught sight of you.

“Hey! Could you open the door, please?” Not-Changmin hollered through the glass, furiously shaking his sweater-pawed hand down at the door handle.

You didn’t want to. God, you really didn’t want to.

Changmin stared you down, as if daring you to come closer.

You opened the door, and let the cool gust of late February air and two outsiders into the safety and warmth of the laboratory building.

Hoodie Guy shuddered violently to get the cold out of his system. “Jesus, it’s cold outside. Thanks,” he said to you. Then he nudged Changmin with his elbow, as if jolting the man into reality.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, words directed toward Changmin in particular.

His dark bangs were tucked beneath a black beanie with his pair of black headphones hanging around his neck. “You think I want to be here?”

His friend sent him a look, his eyes flickering between you and Changmin furiously until the pieces clicked into his mind. “Well, uh oh…” he muttered while turning away slightly to scratch his head. He gathered his wits then. “Uh, Yn, right?”

You perked up. “Yes.”

“Uh,” he drawled. “We’re actually here for Jacob Bae. You see, we told him we’d come pick him up to take him over to—”

“Is he here?” Changmin asked.

Your eyebrow shot upward. At least they were here for a proper reason. You crossed your arms over your chest, glancing back toward the main laboratory floor way down the hall. Man, the safe zone felt so far away. “He actually just left like, ten minutes ago. Sorry.” The apology was said to Changmin’s friend, the one who seemed to have been able to figure out who exactly you were to Changmin. Not that you were anything to him. And did Changmin just talk about you to all his friends or something—?

“Oh.”

Changmin tapped his friend with the back of his hand. “C’mon Sunwoo. We’ll just meet him over there.”

Sunwoo wrinkled his nose. “I just think it’s weird that he didn’t text us to let us know before we came over here.”

There was a pause and you could practically see the gears in Changmin’s head turning. You would have left them to their own company, but you technically weren’t allowed to leave unauthorized students alone.

It was strange seeing Changmin break into something akin to sheepishness. You saw the dimples appear in the apples of his cheeks as he cupped the back of his neck. “I might not have told him we were coming…”

Sunwoo’s eyes and mouth widened and he whacked his friend with the length of his hoodie sleeve. Changmin let out one of those hyena laughs that set off triggers in your mind. It’d been awhile since you heard that… “Hyung! You’re so unreliable sometimes, oh my god. Even Eric would have remembered to tell him!”

Changmin made a noise of dismissal, slinging an arm around his friend. “Ah, it’s fine. We’ll just meet him there—as you said.”

“Worst texter award goes to,” Sunwoo rolled his eyes.

“I guess some things never change.” The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop yourself, and both Sunwoo and Changmin suddenly remembered that you were in the hallway with them. Sunwoo had perked up as if he were surprised you would even comment on their situation, but Changmin cut an unreadable expression your way. You didn’t want to read into it.

“You literally forgot to answer a text I sent for three days,” Changmin quipped.

Well, if he was going to play the back and forth game. “That was once out of how many other times,” you scoffed. “You refused to answer anyone’s texts in the mornings anyway, so don't get on my case about that.”

“He did that to you, too?!” Sunwoo cut in with fire behind his words.

You could’ve sworn you saw the slightest bit of blush grace Changmin’s cheekbones as you hid a laugh behind your hand. “He did that to everyone—”

“Hey, I’m better over call; you know that!” Changmin argued. “Sunwoo, you can’t even talk about being a bad texter. I have to hunt for you on discord sometimes to get a straight answer.”

Sunwoo groaned, “Yah! Whatever. It’s still better than your average three-business-day reply speed.”

Changmin stammered, “It is not an average of three business days.” If your ears were not deceiving you, Ji Changmin was whining. “It’s a couple hours at least.”

“A couple hours means half a day,” you said to Sunwoo.

Changmin whipped his attention back to you, finger jabbed accusingly in your direction. “Hey, missy! You always fell asleep on-call, even when you promised that you would stay up to help me study.”

You shook your head. “Not my fault! You know that I always fell asleep around midnight back then.”

“Well, back then—”

“Is everything okay out here?”

Everything in the corridor came to a stand still, and Changmin closed his mouth, mid-sentence. Kun had his head poking out of the door to the main floor, a crease pressed between his brows and right above the rim of his thin spectacles. He eyed the two non-laboratory students with a slight grimace. Of course, Kun was aware of who Changmin was. He could recognize him because of his famed performer reputation on campus, but he knew his history with you because you had spent far too many late nights here at the lab with things plaguing your mind. You and Kun both had a problem with trouble sleeping and being workaholics.

You turned slightly to Kun. “Yeah, everything’s okay, Kun-ge.”

He sent you an unimpressed look.

“We,” Changmin piped up as he urged Sunwoo to the door, “were just leaving.” The mirth and fire from the bickering just a few seconds ago had faded, and you could feel him slipping away.

Kun drummed his fingers along the doorframe, eyebrows shooting up for a second. “Oh-kay… Yn-ie, Ten says he’s right around the corner and asks if you want some company walking home.”

The door to the laboratory behind you was held open, and the night breeze brushed through your hair. When you looked back, you saw that Changmin had stalled in the door for a second. But, it had only been that second before he and his friend were gone.

“Oh.” You made your way over to Kun. “That’s really cool of him. I’d love that.” Some company on a late-night walk back to your apartment did not sound bad at all. You’d done plenty of trips on your own, but sometimes having even one person with you would have been nice.

Kun nodded, pursing his lips, as the two of you walked into the main lab together and toward his office off to the side. “Okay, I’ll let him know. You’re for sure okay though? That must have been… not nice, seeing Changmin here.”

You gave a stiff shrug, your hip leaning against the door of his office while Kun settled back at his desk. “It’s fine,” you said. To be honest, you weren’t even sure if that was a lie or not. You’d heard Changmin laugh for the first time in years. You’d seen the dimples in his cheeks, the sheepishness in his expression—you swallowed.

Once upon a time, you associated all of those things with something like happiness. Your happiness.

Kun fixed you with a pointed look. “If you need to talk.”

You gave a firm nod. “I know where to find you.”

He clicked his tongue, shooting you a finger gun, then shooed you off to finish your work and pack your things. Ten was just around the corner, after all.

EPISODE FOUR: OFF THE RECORD

CHANGMIN liked to think that he became nosy, and that he wasn't born this way. But ever since he overheard that Kun guy asking about Ten wanting to walk you home, he couldn't help but wonder…

He shook his head, brushing his hair out of his eyes and off his forehead, before those same bangs flopped back into their place. He walked back onto the main stage of the performing arts hall to the soundtrack of a hype playlist blasting from the ears of his headphones. As he made his way past groups and individuals doing their own thing, he absentmindedly searched for one person in particular.

Conveniently, he found Ten setting himself up right by Changmin's things. He was shouldering off his black puffer jacket, rolling the material up into a manageable ball to shove into his duffle bag.

"Hey," Changmin greeted, bending down slightly to grab his water bottle.

Ten straightened and flashed him a smile. "Hey."

It wouldn't be awkward would it? Probably not. Just be cool about it, Changmin. He smiled slightly, the dimples in his cheeks disarming his acquaintance. "I didn't know you and Yn were close."

Your name felt so… foreign, yet familiar, on his tongue. It was like tasting déjà vu, like eating a treat from childhood that had been associated with good feelings, but he couldn't decide if it was still as good as he remembered or a trick of his mind.

The mention of your name brought a jolt of energy to Ten's body and Changmin saw the man lean into the conversation. Curious… "Oh? Well, I mean—" he gave a shrug, "—she's really cool. She just seems like a good person to get to know, y'know? Why do you ask?"

Changmin couldn't tell how much he trusted the slight narrowing of Ten's feline eyes. There was no way you hadn't mentioned him to Ten at some point or another. To be honest, he didn't like the feeling of you still lingering in his head if he didn't linger in yours. It meant a myriad of things that he loathed to admit.

He let the feeling slide away, let his mouth tilt upward like his eyes to the spotlights in the ceiling. "Just be…" He shook his head. "Nothing. It's nothing." He flicked his wrist, as he spun his water bottle cap on tight. "You can forget about it."

Ten sent him a look that Changmin pointedly ignored.

Somewhere within the depths of the performing arts center, Changmin could hear the howling laughter of his friend Hyunjae as he most likely bugged his best friend out of her mind, both to her chagrin and her delight. That was another can of worms entirely.

Ten piped up as he settled onto the backstage floor while Changmin mentally went through some of the problem sets he had to review today. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you and Yn on such… uneven ground with each other?"

There it was. Changmin snorted. "Uneven ground? I don't even know if we're on the same ground."

"You're both really friendly people," Ten added, "so it just doesn't make sense to me."

Changmin pursed his lips. He never felt the need to divulge this stuff to anyone but his friends, but he didn't know what Ten already knew. He didn't know what you told him, but based on the fact that Ten wasn't looking at him the same way you did… Changmin scratched the back of his head and leaned his side against the wall to face him. "Something happened a long time ago. I guess we just both hold a grudge well."

Ten huffed a laugh in response. "Remind me never to get on your bad side then," he joked.

— ✶

There was a buzz about the university newspaper room. The Daily had only a handful of crew members onboard, mainly because it was so selective. Over the past few years that you had been apart of the staff, you and a few others had gradually loosened the reputation of the Daily's elitist interview process—there was still some level of intimidation that ensured the publication took on the hard workers and not those simply looking for an extracurricular to put on their resume though.

So when there was talk of a new staff member, everyone knew about it.

You let yourself in the door with a sigh, brushing the hair from your eyes held up with a random, blue claw clip you found on your bathroom sink. The bus had been late this morning because it broke down, but you luckily were able to make it to your lecture on time. You had run over here for a quick meeting that Kim Doyoung had summoned you for, no doubt about the new hire.

"Hey guys," you said as you passed by clusters of desks piled with copyedits and heads buried in monitor screens. The sounds of typing stopped briefly with each head you walked past:

"Yn!"

"Hi Yn!"

"Sup Yn—HEY! I just did my hair this morning!" Mark yelped, hands smoothing down the braids in his hair.

You giggled as you patted his head. "Your hair needs a break, Mark."

As you disappeared around the corner, you heard him shout back, "So do you, but you never hear me complaining!"

You rolled your eyes with an ill-concealed smile. The door to Doyoung's little editor in chief office was right down the hall next to the office for the sponsoring professor. As much as you and the others teased him about getting the "Boss man" office, he always complained to you about being on edge with the professor's office next door. You didn't quite understand since Professor Woo was almost never in his office anyway, but you supposed you could see.

Doyoung's door was open, and the fourth year's head perked up at the sound of your voice and nearing footsteps. He didn't even wait for you to knock or say hi, before beckoning you inside. "Yn, thank god you know how to hustle. Close the door on your way in. Thanks."

Your eyebrows shot up at the terseness in his tone, but didn't question him until you'd closed the door and settled into the chair opposite him. His desk, much like those outside, was covered in a sea of paper, with his laptop being the only land in sight. "What's up? You sound stressed."

He shot you a look over the rims of his thin glasses. "When am I not stressed?"

"Valid."

"Okay," he began with a sigh that made your concern rise just a bit more, "you know the situation with our performing arts review section, right?"

You nodded. "Of course."

The situation with the performing arts review section of the paper was inherently a mess. For a handful of years, the performing arts section was written under a pseudonym (lovingly dubbed Opera Glasses)—the identity of the reviewer was anonymous—which was a product of an incident a few years ago where a performer was unhappy with a review left by someone on the paper and came to ask, very unkindly, for a rewrite. Since then, the paper had been swallowed up by so much that finding a permanent writer or reviewer for the section became less and less of a priority.

When you joined the publishing team, it had been in the middle of freshman year when you were also putting your application out for research projects. Joining had felt like the right thing to do, as much as it was an act of rebellion against your mother and your childhood. They had asked if you knew anything about dance of all things.

And well, you did know.

You'd written one piece—one piece that was entirely you. It had been for one of the dancers just debuting at his first winter showcase. Since then, you couldn't stomach writing another one or watching another one.

You ghost wrote, you edited, you advised—but you stuck to putting your energy into covering the STEM-related sections of the paper now.

So Doyoung already knew your relationship with the performing arts review section. "Well," he cleared his throat, making a vague flourish with his hand, "I'm sure you already know that I just interviewed a new prospective recruit. I was wondering if you would be willing to take them under your wing and to show them the ropes."

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you expected him to say. Your heart kicked up for an entirely new reason, however. You'd always wanted to be someone's mentor. To be someone's older sister. "I mean, yeah. I'd love to," you stammered, a smile slowly curling onto your lips. "That would be really cool."

Doyoung sighed, his shoulders sinking in relief. "Thank you."

"But wait." You cocked your head to the side as you asked, "What does Opera Glasses have to do with this?"

"I want her to eventually take over for it," he explained. "She knows quite a bit about theater and music—little less about dance, though. I know that you have your issues with the dance department, but out of everyone here, you probably understand dance stuff the most. I just ask that you help her out a little with that, and maybe even introduce her to some of the people there so we can ease her in with interviews—"

You opened your mouth to interrupt him, but he sent you a pointed look. He continued, "Just hear me out, okay? If you're uncomfortable at all, you can back out. And you don't even have to back out right now or completely; maybe you could have Mark introduce her to Jungwoo for interviews, and you can just stick to the behind-the-scenes stuff."

Doyoung exhaled. "Okay, so what are your thoughts?"

You worried your bottom lip between your teeth. What did you think… What did you think?

Even the thought of stepping foot into a practice room made the yelling and screams echo in the caverns of your mind. But you'd missed them—missed the polished wood floors, the floor-to-ceiling mirrors, the people. God, you couldn't even stay away from the people if you tried, no matter how much you tried convincing yourself you could.

You weren't fooling anyone.

You swallowed. You'd always wanted to be a big sister.

What was the harm in giving this a try?

(Changmin. You'd probably run into Changmin a lot more often than if you didn't accept. But you could see him from that one night: the sheepishness, the dimples, the laugh. Why couldn't you get over that interaction?)

You mustered up your courage and straightened in your seat. "I'll still do it. When do we start?"

EPISODE FIVE: OFF THE MARK

IT turned out that Doyoung intended for you and your new recruit, Bae Sumin, to get started right away. With the winter showcase only a couple weeks away, it was imperative that the two of you dived right in.

"—so what made you interested in joining the team?" You asked, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets to hide signs of nervousness from your underclassman peer. The two of you were walking from the Daily's newsroom and over to the performing arts center. It was about a ten minute walk, but you figured that it would give you two the opportunity to get to know one another.

Sumin was a multimedia major, as you had been told earlier when the two of you just met for the first time in the entryway of the Daily newsroom. She was cute and well-dressed—she wore a pleated skirt and sweater with a white collar peeking through. Her smile was dazzling, and reminded you of someone who would do well on stage. No wonder she had theater and performing experience.

"Oh!" She shot you one of those dazzling smiles, her hand shooting up to shift the white, fluffy earmuffs seated over her head. "I actually had a cousin who came here and shared with me some of the Daily's earlier issues. She always said it was kind of competitive to get in, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to try."

You bobbed your head. "That's really cool." A small laugh fell from your lips, "I'm glad you did try! Lots of people just assume they're gonna get turned away and they don't try at all, you know?"

Sumin hummed in understanding.

Something had settled nicely in your chest throughout this walk. Even if your past anxieties were beginning to bubble up to the surface at the sight of the nearing performing arts buildings, Sumin's easy conversation calmed you. It was one less thing to worry about.

Yesterday, when Doyoung had proposed this job for you, you had asked Mark to accompany you and Sumin to the arts buildings. He couldn't walk with you two, but he promised to meet you there. Now, you were kind of glad you got to have this bit of bonding time with her.

“I think Doyoung said that I should introduce you to a few people in particular,” you said offhandedly and pulled your phone out to check yours and Doyoung’s text thread.

Sumin did the same, most likely taking out any notes she had taken from Doyoung’s instructions. “Yeah, something like Lee Minho, Kim Jungwoo… the Hwang?—the Hwang siblings, uhm and Ji Changmin…?”

Your footing faltered for a second, and Sumin asked if you were all right, but you recovered quickly. You let out an embarrassed laugh, feeling heat crawl up your neck. Why in the world did his name catch you off guard like that? Maybe it was because you assumed Doyoung would just let you avoid Changmin, but realistically, if Sumin was going to do an interview with the dance department’s most prominent members, then there was no avoiding Changmin.

You just had to suck it up and be an adult about it.

It was three years ago… What was the big deal?

But as you moved to open the door to the backstage area for Sumin with your ID card, you felt your throat tighten in on itself. You forced a smile to your face as you let Sumin go in before you so you could turn your head out to inhale a large lungful of fresh air. Then, you ducked in after her.

The backstage corridors were as hustle n' bustle as you expected them to be. The lights were dim-looking from the black walls and floors marred with scuff marks from years upon years of use. It was an overwhelming tidal wave of sensory details—what, with the clashing sounds of chatter and music, the smell of some kind of polish (or maybe that was resin?), the warmth of energy in the air and all around you.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood like you could sense someone was coming this way.

You gestured down the opposite direction to Sumin. “Come on; I’m pretty sure they’re down this way.”

It was a curious thing, memory. You could recall late nights of catching the bus to these very practice rooms and backstage rooms from when you were in high school. Performing on the stage was a whole other experience in itself, and though part of you missed it, there were other feelings that dominated the hints of nostalgia now.

You could hear the chatter even clearer now, even if their words were muddled.

The door to one of the larger practice rooms were left ajar, and though you only peered in, you felt the warmth hit you like a wave. Your throat was closing up again—breathe—

“Hey,” you said into the room, catching quite a few eyes. From an initial scan, you determined that Changmin wasn’t amongst the crush of people socializing in here, and you couldn’t identify the feeling manifesting in the pit of your stomach.

Jungwoo was the first to bound over toward you, swiftly followed by Minho and Hyunjin, one of the Hwang siblings. “Yn-ie! I can’t believe you actually came. I thought Doyoung was joking.”

A smile made its way onto your lips and you accepted Jungwoo’s side hug. “Yeah, well Doyoung doesn’t joke around.”

“He really doesn’t,” Hyunjin said with a grimace. “He’s kind of scary, that one.”

“If you can survive Minho,” you said to him, “then you can survive Doyoung.”

Minho made a face at you. “What have I ever done to you, Yn?”

Nothing; this is just me trying to pretend I’m not seconds away from quivering like a leaf in the wind. You laughed. “Nothing yet. Guys, I'd like you to meet Sumin. She’s our new recruit at the Daily, and she’s gonna be the one conducting interviews for the winter showcase this year.”

Sumin didn’t need much prompting to smile and wave at your friends in that same charming way. “Hi, nice to meet you!”

The three dancers before you replied in kind. Jungwoo offered to introduce her to some of the others in the room, and before you knew it, she was swept away.

Hyunjin made a comment about needing to go check up on a friend of his, leaving you and Minho chatting to the side of the room.

“Wow,” Minho said offhandedly as the two of you watched Jungwoo and Sumin work their way around the room, “she’s a natural at this. Where’d Kim find this one?”

“She saw some of our older issues,” you replied. You watched as Sumin ignited a sort of brightness in every conversation she started. You struggled to swallow; now that you didn’t feel obligated to keep up appearances, especially in front of Sumin, your jitteriness was beginning to come on just a little stronger. You absentmindedly massaged your throat, willing it to loosen up.

Minho glanced over at you, his eyes catching your anxious actions. “Must have a lot of confidence in her if he’s throwing her straight into taking charge of interviews. How’re you holding up?” The latter was said lowly and under his breath in case someone just happened to be close enough to catch onto your conversation.

Minho didn’t know your history with the dance department as thoroughly as your close friends did, but it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t at your absolute best right now. You gave a stiff shrug. “I’m alright,” you managed to say.

He nodded, though it was probably more for your sake than him saying he believed you. “It’s funny,” he drawled, “one might think that by sending you here on behalf of the paper, that you were behind Opera Glasses.”

Now that, you could let out a genuine chuckle at.

Minho gauged your reaction but smiled to himself. He wasn’t one to really care for the drama and gossip side that came privy to the performing arts review section, but you couldn’t blame him if he was curious.

“That would be really stupid if that was the case,” you mused.

“It would be,” he agreed. “Is this a sign that this will be the end of Opera Glasses then? Finally a face to the name?”

You pursed your lips. “Actually, I’m not too sure what Doyoung will end up doing. I’m sure he’ll call for a board meeting to decide what the review’s fate will be, but it’s not exactly our top priority—”

Your voice and words trailed off as your eyes met a pair coming into the practice room. You and Changmin froze at the sight of one another, two deer caught in headlights, and you felt your heart palpitate violently in your chest. Your breath left your lungs—his expression was filled with surprise, until it morphed into something you couldn’t read.

“What are you doing here?” He deadpanned.

Minho’s eyebrows shot up. “You didn’t know Yn was stopping by? We all got the email from Director Lee, man.”

Changmin pressed his mouth together and it made the dimple in his cheek deepen. He looked you up and down, and he opened his mouth to say something else, but paused when you unconsciously brushed your thumb against the hollow of your throat. (Dear god, why couldn’t you breathe? Breathe, breathe, breathe—)

He seemed to lose whatever he was going to say. You swore the sharpness in his gaze softened.

But then his jaw tightened; you didn’t know why. “I didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered under his breath.

Ouch.

The words from his mouth pricked uncomfortably at the back of your mind. You found your voice again. “I’ll be gone before you know it,” you replied tersely.

Your response touched a nerve for him, too. He cut his attention to the rest of the practice room. “Where’s your new girl?”

“Over there,” you said, inclining your head across the room where Sumin and Hwang Yeji were currently swapping contact information. Something soared in your chest at the sight, but you couldn’t tell if it was pride or envy.

Without any additional prompting, you watched Changmin make his way toward Sumin and away from you. You didn’t realize you were holding in a breath until you finally exhaled—

“Yn! Sorry I’m late.” Mark bumbled into the practice room, wiping a drop of sweat from his forehead as he quite literally crashed against the wall next to you and Minho. He was panting and gasping for breath, and you and Minho couldn’t help but express your amusement.

“It’s all cool, dude,” you assured while patting his head.

“I should probably get back to it,” Minho said as he began walking away from you and Mark. “Nice to see you, Mark. Feel free to take a water bottle from the green room.”

Mark thumped his head against the wall with his eyes closed. “Thanks, man,” he huffed.

With a snicker under his breath, Minho went his separate way.

You gave Mark a moment to catch a breath or two, and you slid down next to him against the practice room wall. Folding your knees up against your chest, you copied Mark’s position with his head tilted back as you both inhaled through your nostrils and breathed out through slightly parted lips. While Mark might have been trying to get a moment of rest from (no doubt) running here from the bus stop, you were trying to steady yourself.

The anxiety was starting to make your hands feel numb cold.

“You don’t have to stay, y’know,” came Mark’s voice, followed by the back of his hand gently nudging your arm. When your eyes fluttered open, you found him already looking at you. “You asked for my help; you can go take a breather outside and come back in—or maybe don’t—whatever you’re comfortable with. This can’t be easy.”

You were struggling to swallow again. One of your hands drummed messily against your kneecap. “It’s—” you shook your head, “—I’ll be okay. Thanks for coming though.”

“Yeah, dude. Of course.”

Something prodded at the side of your head, like someone was staring at you, but when you turned to see, it was just Changmin talking to Sumin. They were both smiling and making good conversation, it seemed.

You let out a sigh and closed your eyes again. Wishful thinking.

— ✶

Mark stayed behind to “vibe” with the remaining dancers still at the performing arts building while you and Sumin pushed out into the crisp, cool evening. Even after walking all the way to the bus station, your hands were still numb, and the cold definitely wasn’t helping.

“How do you feel about the dance interviews now?” You found yourself asking Sumin as the two of you sat on the bench at the station waiting for the bus to come pick the two of you up.

Sumin beamed. “I definitely feel a bit more secure about conducting them. I’ll definitely need some help with dance terminology and editing and stuff though.”

You nodded. “No problem at all.”

“The people are all really so chill and nice…” Your eyes definitely weren’t tricking you when you saw the bashfulness that her expression took on, and the little giggle you heard could not have been the wind. “Especially Changmin.”

Ha. What.

A weight fell to the pit of your stomach. Maybe you were hearing things… “Sorry?”

She blinked, and the blush on her cheekbones darkened. “Oh, haha, it’s nothing! I just… he was really sweet, and he has a really pretty smile and stuff—do you—uh, do you know if his previous dance showcase performances are online?”

(Something about that detail—he has a really pretty smile—rang a bell for you.)

It was really an innocent question, but you knew if Sumin went searching online for Changmin, and if she went deep enough, she’d find you there, too. You sucked in a breath. “I can—” you winced inwardly, “—send you some of his performances, if you want?”

You couldn’t deny the warm and fuzzy feeling in your chest when Sumin practically lit up at your suggestion. “Would you? I would really appreciate it, Yn! You’re the best.”

From your periphery, you saw the bus approach from down the street, and you gestured for the both of you to stand up and get your ID cards ready to board. You sent her a small smile—at least it felt good to help her out. You could pretend for a second that this was just a little crush or infatuation on some other colleague of yours that Sumin had. “Yeah, no worries.” No worries at all.

EPISODE SIX: OFF THE [TOP OF YOUR] HEAD

FRIDAY night brought you, Seungkwan, and Doyoung to the hotpot place located in the university district. The three of you were the unconventional combination of your friends, but Kun and Ten were supposedly on their way over as of five minutes ago. Thus, with the last of your party nearing, the three of you deigned to begin ordering almost everything off the menu—just to whet your appetites, of course.

Doyoung slumped down in his seat across from you and Seungkwan as soon as the waiter left to input your table's hefty order. "Ugggggggh."

Seungkwan snorted. "Ah, my favorite sound."

Doyoung passed him a dirty look over his lenses. "Is that sarcasm I hear, Boo Seungkwan?"

"I have no idea what you mean," he said with feigned innocence as he looked away and scratched the side of his head.

You chuckled to yourself, drawing your phone out from the inner pocket of your puffer jacket when you heard the series of buzzes. Your screen lit up with notifications from Sumin, all of them thanking you profusely for the spam of links you'd sent her way. These were on top of the videos you had dug up from your secret locked folder in your phone—and here you were, wondering why in the world you were doing this to yourself and for her?

"I can't decide if I dread Doyoung's noises of discontent or your expressions of pain more," Seungkwan commented, effectively pulling your focus away from your phone.

Both of your friends were now looking at you, patiently awaiting your answer to what ailed you tonight. Where should you begin?

"I'm not in pain," you scoffed. You set your phone facedown on the table next to you to avoid looking at the notifications. Huh. "Did I look like I was in pain?"

Doyoung's smile was wide like his eyes as he nodded. "Yup," he chirped in that sweet sarcasm of his. "Like you'd just watched a video of someone stubbing their toe against a doorframe."

Seungkwan blinked. "That's so—specific."

"You do not want to know what my For You Page looks like—"

You recreated the look of pain from earlier, holding your palm up. "Respectfully, Doie? I don't."

Seungkwan let out another snort of delight and had to hold a hand in front of his mouth.

Doyoung leveled a half-hearted scowl at you. "You're lucky I'm not your boss right now."

"As opposed to every other moment in time?"

"You have a mouth on you tonight."

"I do like to use it every so often," you quipped, the corner of your mouth lifting in an amused smirk.

Doyoung sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't get paid enough for this."

"You're literally not getting paid at all—" Your words were sliced off at their end when you gasped—it was all a blur: a mass of reddish-brown hair, your phone snatched from right in front of you— "SEUNGKWAN!"

Seungkwan held his breath with an impish grin as he turned his back to you and shielded your phone from your attempts to get it back. "I just wanna see!" He said with a cackle. "Every time you've looked at your phone today, you looked like you wanted to fall into an abyss."

You glared at him, pulling away to cross your arms firmly over your chest. "You can't just steal my phone, dude!"

"What's so important on your phone anyway, Yn-ie?" Doyoung asked good naturedly, reaching for his glass of ice water. "You're usually not so attached to that thing."

Your lips snapped shut and you wondered if the heat creeping up to your face was obvious.

"You've been sending Changmin videos to Sumin?!" Seungkwan bursted out, his eyes so wide that you could see your reflection in his pupils. As you'd feared, Seungkwan still had his fingerprint registered into your phone from before (long story; don't ask), and had cracked the device open, as well as your most recently opened application—yours and Sumin's text messages.

You did nothing but stare at the table like you were getting war flashbacks, while Doyoung had even gotten up out of his seat to take a peek at your phone, too.

"I haven't even seen this video before," Seungkwan hissed as if you weren't right there.

You fixed them both with a stink eye, but at the same time, maybe this was for your benefit. They could help you without you actually asking for help—

Doyoung's face contorted into a laughable expression of shock (eyes wide, mouth wider, eyebrows pinched, nose wrinkled) as he viewed what Seungkwan had selected. "Oh my god. He's a child in this!"

"Actually he was a senior in high school—" You slapped a hand over your mouth. Whoops.

Both of their heads whipped over toward you. "I thought you deleted all your high school shit!" They chorused together. If it had been any other situation or context, you might have laughed at the hilarity if it all.

Instead, you averted your gaze, making a show of looking for the waiter or maybe even Kun or Ten. What was taking them so long anyway?

"Yn," Seungkwan addressed with a tone akin to that of a parent on the verge of lecturing their child, "what in the name of god are you sending Sumin and why?"

Helpless, you held both your palms up in a sheepish shrug. "The kid has a crush on him, and being the best mentor figure ever, I… did some compiling for her." You paused, "Now that I say it out loud, it does sound pretty stupid."

Doyoung returned to his seat. "Ya think?"

You wrinkled your nose at him. "Hey! Sometimes, some of us have bad nights and we wanna feel something." Out of context, this was a really suspicious conversation.

"Isn't this just you torturing yourself?"

Seungkwan slapped his hand against the table, and both you and Doyoung startled. "That's it! I'm calling for an intervention."

Your mouth parted open. "Right now?"

He deadpanned at you. "No, when Kun and Ten get here—of course, right now!"

You returned his deadpan expression. The adrenaline from all this back and forth was slowly fading, and what you were left with was something that felt like emptiness. So… now they knew.

Doyoung and Seungkwan exchanged looks with another from across the table, but it was the former who spoke first. "Why do you still have videos from back then, Yn-ie? I thought you told us you deleted them all?"

"I mean, we're not trying to be judgmental or anything," Seungkwan added firmly, but not unkindly, "they're your videos and photos, your past and memories, but… based on everything you've already told us before, wouldn't it be best to delete them?"

You didn't like the emptiness. The adrenaline had stripped you of energy and confidence when it faded. "I," you stammered, "I just… I couldn't bring myself to delete them." Your voice was quiet, almost inaudible compared to the liveliness of the hotpot shop around you and your friends. "I mean, how could I? Sometimes, I want to watch them and try to find the courage to say that I'm sorry first."

Yeah, you wanted to feel something. That "something" was actually a lot of things—courage, happiness, nostalgia, anger, melancholy, love, passion, pride. A life and childhood you had lost; who's fault was it but your own? You felt nothing short of pathetic.

Seungkwan frowned deeply, his eyes softening. He leaned forward and drew you into his embrace, his hold warm and comforting. "Oh, Yn. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have pried like that."

You wrapped your arms around him, eyes shuddering closed. "Yeah, you shouldn't have."

He grunted into your shoulder, a noise of defiance and attitude.

Doyoung had a similar expression of sympathy present on his face. You didn't often see something like that from him, but after years of friendship and working together, you'd begun to see a lot more of him. "I'm sorry too, Yn. It probably still hurts, and I know I was probably really insensitive when I asked you to introduce Sumin to the dance department—"

"Hey guys! Sorry we're late."

Everyone jolted at the sight of Kun and Ten arriving at your table. Kun sent Ten a sharp look along with a sharp jab with his elbow for interrupting. Kun shot you an apologetic look. "Sorry, we didn't interrupt anything, did we?"

You shook your head as Seungkwan pulled away. Doyoung and Seungkwan were both looking to you to make the decision of whether or not you would let Kun and Ten in on the prior conversation.

No, you didn't want to put a damper on dinner any longer. "Ah, no worries. We were just… discussing a couple work things. What took you guys so long?"

Luckily, no one (namely Ten) called you out and the two newcomers slid into their respective seats. Dinner would arrive soon, and you could fill your belly with something other than negative thoughts for once.

— ✶

boss bunny: hey, i didn't get a chance to say this earlier, but i'm so sorry for expecting u to introduce sumin to the dance dept

boss bunny: i didn't think at all abt how that might trigger u, and i still want u to know that u can back out whenever u feel uncomfortable. seriously.

your phone: it's okay, doyoung. i get it, i really do. and i promise that it didn't feel like u were forcing me or assuming that i would do it either

your phone: i knew it would probably trigger me like this too, but i kind of really wanted to be someone's mentor yk? it just… called to me ig

your phone: sounds kind of sad lol

boss bunny: nonono! not at all :( i understand that too

boss bunny: i admire ur strength, yn

your phone: DOIE 🥺

boss bunny: …okay love u and all, but let's not use that emoji yeah? T-T

your phone: okay wtv 🤧 now stop texting cuz ten is starting to realize ur not slick at this

boss bunny: AM TOO. >:(

— ✶

"He kept looking at his phone and then at you, like, every five seconds," Ten giggled, his shoulder absentmindedly brushing against yours as the two of you strolled side by side through the numbing cold night. Dinner had concluded just about half an hour ago, and while Kun ferried Doyoung and Seungkwan home, you and Ten decided to head down a few blocks to get milk tea and hang out.

You clapped your hands together in delight, your laughter lighting up the night. “That’s what I’m saying! He just wasn’t subtle about it and he kept arguing with me that he was.” You shook your head, tongue darting out to lick your lips, “It’s okay though. I think Dad Doyoung’s antics are charming.”

Ten grinned. “Dad Doyoung? I think he’s more of an uncle; ‘Dad’ is Kun’s title.”

“Fair enough.”

“Ayo, Ten!”

Both yours and Ten’s heads whipped upward at the sound of his name being called. You didn’t actually recognize the voice, but when you saw the lineup of four young men coming toward you from the opposite end of the street, you didn’t need to recognize it. Because, well, you recognized their faces.

Huh, you had been running into Changmin and his like a lot more often recently.

Heading straight for you was Changmin, Chanhee, Juyeon, and—you thought his name was Kevin. Kevin was the one who had called out to Ten, and he waved excitedly over to your friend. Based on Changmin’s not-so-subtle frown at Kevin, you could assume that this was not expected. Maybe he was going to advocate crossing the whole street to avoid you.

“Oh, hey Kev!” Ten greeted back cheerily, glancing at you beside him. “Do you know Kevin and Juyeon?”

You bobbed your head. “Briefly,” you replied. The two of your groups met in the middle, two blockades in the smack middle of the sidewalk. Impromptu meetups like this always seemed to end up clogging up the sidewalk for some reason.

After a swift greeting, Chanhee was already gesturing to the direction his group had already been headed in. “Hey, I’ll probably run up the street and get us a table. Haknyeonie says the tables fill up fast after eight o’clock.”

Juyeon perked up. “Oh, I’ll come with!”

Chanhee made eye contact with Changmin from across the group, and a silent form of communication passed between them. You watched this happen quietly, standing to the side with your hands tucked into your pockets while Ten and Kevin caught up from the last time they saw each other (apparently, it was a drawing and painting course from last quarter). However, instead of leaving with Chanhee and Juyeon, Changmin lingered with the three of you.

He naturally came to stand semi-close to you since he wasn’t exactly a part of the “drawing and painting” conversation. The frown from earlier had disappeared, though, and you didn’t know if you could call that a win or not.

Perhaps to you, the tension between the two of you was palpable. There were… far too many things up in the air at this moment, and it was nearly impossible for you to figure out just one thing to start with.

Plus, now was no time to get into all of that baggage. You needed to finish that intervention with Doyoung and Seungkwan before you could handle that kind of conversation—at least, that was what you would have preferred.

But for now, you found yourself clearing your throat and sparing him a glance. “Hey.”

Changmin’s eyes darted over to yours in ill-concealed surprise. “Hey.”

And that was that.

Luckily, Ten nor Kevin dragged on their conversation longer than it needed to be, and soon, you and Ten were passing by Kevin and Changmin as both parties went their separate ways. (You were going to pretend that you hadn’t looked back to watch Changmin walk away. Definitely not.)

“All good?” Ten asked, though, his voice was quieter than it had been before.

You could meet his eyes and nod. “Yeah.”

Ten followed up with an idle sort of humming noise, like he was one of those really loud computer fans (what in the world led you to think of that—?), “A few days ago, I kind of asked Changmin what the deal between the two of you was.”

“Oh?” Nervousness bubbled up the column of your throat. “What’d he say?”

He gave a shrug. “Something like a long-standing grudge.”

You let out a laugh that didn’t exactly sound like a laugh. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.” Was that how you would put it? In a way, that was what it was, but there was so much more to that, wasn’t there? Did Changmin think so little of what transpired between the two of you or was he just trying to deflect Ten’s interrogation?

The two of you had arrived at the tea shop by now, and Ten opened the door for you. The shop’s insides were warm and bright, and the tables were already filled up with fellow students who decided to hang out with friends on their Friday evening. You and Ten shifted over to the self-order kiosks to the side of the room and continued your conversation in low volumes.

“How would you put it then?” He asked. When you looked over at him, you realized that there was something scarily disarming about his eyes. “No pressure, of course. I mean, you can call me out on being nosy whenever; I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

You pursed your lips as you turned back to the screen to absentmindedly swipe down the page to find your preferred order. On the inside, you fought for the right words. “Changmin and I were best friends since we were kids,” you started, inputting your preferred level of sugar and ice like clockwork, “and we met through dance.”

Ten nodded to signal he was still listening, and the two of you swapped places so he could input his order.

You cracked your knuckles and rubbed your palms together to generate some kind of heat between them. “I didn’t really like dance at first. It was just one of those things my parents put me in to occupy my time after school and while they were working. But… well, you know how Changmin is with dance—it was and is his livelihood.”

“Even then?”

A nod. “Even then.”

When your orders were paid for, the two of you moved to a quiet corner of the shop to wait for your number to be called from the counter. You leaned your side against the wall next to Ten, your eyes staring blankly at a crack in the floor. “He was actually the reason I grew to love dancing,” you confessed. “As we got older and went into high school, sneaking out to practice together and performing together on stage became as easy as breathing air and as normal as…” You shook your head. “It was just a lot easier I think, back then.”

Ten tilted his chin toward you. “What happened between you two, Yn?”

You swallowed roughly. “In my first year of high school, my parents got divorced. I always suspected it would happen, but my mom kind of changed after that.” Your eyebrows crinkled as you recalled the memories of your early teenage years and tried to grapple with an adequate way to express them aloud. “And, to be fair, the more I danced, the more I didn’t want to focus on school work, but my mom became really hard on me about all that and I started to crack down on that stuff.

“Eventually, she got tired of taking me to dance practices and shows, and she blew up at me about how useless dance was going to be if I was going to become a doctor or something like that.”

Ten heard your number being called and nudged you to follow after him. He handed you your drink, and the two of you pushed back out into the chilly night. You didn’t really know where you were trying to go, but you didn’t really care. You both ended up in one of the small parking lots squeezed between two fast food restaurants, and you sat yourself down on the curb.

You continued, “And so, she would purposely forget to come home in time to take me to competitions and rehearsals. By the time I realized she wasn’t coming, I was already late every time. I would start walking myself there and taking the bus instead. Changmin started noticing that I was slacking, but I…”

“He didn’t know?”

“No.” You didn’t want him to know. Maybe it was your stupid pride that was preventing you from admitting that aloud. Maybe you were ashamed that your mom wasn't as accepting of dance as his parents were. You let out a shuddering breath and watched it come out in a visible puff in front of your face. “She made me grow spiteful toward dance,” you said stiffly. “I would be trying to stretch or practice movement in my bedroom while studying for exams, and she would come in and berate me.”

The yelling echoed in your mind, all too vividly. Your mother never physically hurt you, but there were still scars. “She’d discourage me from rehearsals or signing up for competitions by telling me I was nowhere near good enough, that dancing wasn’t going to put food on the table, and that I was—” A complete disappointment. You could pick those exact words out of a line up.

Ten’s eyes glistened with silver in the amber glow of the streetlight above you. “Jesus, Yn. I’m so sorry; that’s—that’s awful.”

You didn’t know how to accept the sympathy, even after having received so much from your other friends already. No matter how many times you retold your story, it was never quite right or in the way your brain wanted to portray it. You didn’t want to portray anyone as the villain; you figured that maybe you could have done something back then to prevent this. (You couldn’t have, actually, and that was the most difficult part to accept.)

“Yeah,” you murmured, setting your drink on the ground as you curled in on yourself slightly. “Anyway, by senior year, Changmin was obviously really into dance and was probably really stressed about auditions and end-of-the-year competitions. We basically… we basically took out our anger on each other. He said some things, I said some things. The rest is history.”

It was quiet for a moment as you let the words sink into the open air. Your chest loosened a bit after being able to tell another person about it, but for the most part, your hands still trembled. You reached for your drink again to take a sip and to force some kind of liquid down your throat.

After a while, Ten piped up, “Yn… I hope you know that you are not whoever your mother was trying to make you believe you were. You’ve probably realized that already—or maybe you’re still working on it—but please know that you’re probably one of the strongest people I know. It must have been really hard for you and I…” He exhaled, “Sorry, I’ve never been great at this.”

You sent him a small smile in return. “It’s okay; I still appreciate it.” After a beat, you added, “I know I act like I hate him, but I still want to see him succeed. I can’t think that ill of him, especially when he wasn’t the only one at fault.”

“Ah, that’s why ‘it’s complicated’, huh? I get that.”

“Yeah.” Your hands—god, if they could just stop shaking—

Ten reached over and covered your hands with one of his, and you let the heat of his palm warm yours. “You’re doing great, Yn. You know that, right?”

You couldn’t choke out an answer to that. You could only really say, “I just miss him sometimes.”

A sad smile. “I know. Maybe he does, too.”

You wanted to laugh, or maybe cry, at that. Anyone who got in the way of Changmin’s passions was no one to him. You would know exactly how that felt.

EPISODE SEVEN: [ROLLS RIGHT] OFF THE TONGUE

WHENEVER Changmin was feeling unsure of himself, he would retreat to his safe space: the practice rooms. Even if it was some time in the ungodly morning, like 2am as it was now, he would make the trek beneath molten gold streetlights and barren cobbled streets. It was the one place where he could focus his energy solely on dance, and forget about everything else.

Once upon a time, it had been your safe space just as much as it was his.

Changmin huffed a sigh as he hiked up the remaining flight of stone stairs that led up to the backdoor area of the performing arts building. It was a handful of hours since he and Chanhee parted ways with Kevin and Juyeon after enjoying dinner together. Chanhee was probably dead asleep by now—he was probably going to wake up and continue studying for his exams anyway.

As he turned to his right, his breath hitched as he caught sight of someone standing right outside the door. Usually, he had no trouble getting in and security wasn’t exactly strict in this area of campus. In fact, he almost never bumped into anyone, as strange as it sounded. Maybe he should have counted his blessings.

But then he recognized your jacket from earlier this evening, the very same one you were wearing while walking next to Ten—practically squished up against each other, two peas in a pod. He didn’t like how irked he was by that detail. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had said “hey” first.

You weren’t looking at him, rather, your body was completely turned toward the door as if you were trying to decide whether or not you should go in. You were as still as a statue, frozen in time.

The moment, however, faded as quickly as it had come. You must have sensed his presence, and your head whipped around to face him.

There.

His heart leapt into his throat—dear god, why did you look so afraid? And then he noticed that you weren’t frozen still, but rather, channeling all your energy into keeping your body from trembling. Were you cold? What were you doing here so late? Why weren’t you with Ten?

He watched your throat move as you gulped. And then you were walking toward him—no, past him—wait, come back— “So that’s it?”

The grip he had on his duffle bag strap tightened when you stopped next to him just as you were going to walk past him toward the stairs. Your gazes clashed like a pair of twin lightning bolts slicing through the night sky. There had always been a sort of energy between the two of you, and when you were young, he had been so very attracted to that kind of power, one so similar to his… he didn’t think he was mistaken back then.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You said, still there. Your voice was low, but he could detect the edge.

He didn’t know what it was supposed to mean; he just didn’t want you to leave without knowing why you were here. Were you looking for him? “You’re not gonna say anything to me? Why are you here?”

(He swore it wasn’t supposed to come out that brusque-sounding, but he also didn’t know what it was supposed to come out sounding like…? He felt like he didn’t know you anymore.)

There was a narrowing of your eyes, and you both angled your bodies to face one another like a standoff. “No one said I had anything to say to you. And I—” You tripped over your words, “—I don’t know why I’m here. That’s why I was leaving.”

Oh.

Why was he disappointed by that answer?

“So you’re not here with Ten or something?” He asked, unsure what else he could say to keep you here, even for just a couple seconds longer.

Your mouth curled. "Clearly not. Why are you so pressed about me and Ten?"

Changmin pressed his lips together. "I'm not." Okay. Very believable.

The face you made said the same thing. "Okay, yeah. I didn't expect you to care so much anyway."

For a reason he loathed to admit, anger spiked in his blood and he felt the distinct need to defend himself. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know," you replied sarcastically, your volume rising, "maybe it's that you've never really cared that much about things that concerned me in the first place?"

"Now that's rich coming from you."

Your glare pierced his. "Oh, please. As soon as I started slacking—god, it took so little for you to just abandon me."

His jaw fell slack. Where the fuck did this conversation just turn to? "Abandon you? You abandoned me!" He exclaimed, finger flicking between the two of you as if he could impale both of your chests with the sharp edge of his accusations.

"How could I have possibly been the one to abandon you?" Your face contorted with so much more emotion than Changmin had ever seen from you over the past three years. Suddenly, he could see the underlying desperation and devastation hidden beneath the lines of bitterness and anger. His heart sank, but his blood still boiled and pumped. He couldn't get the distinctly awful hole in his chest to stop aching. He could remember exactly when you just stopped coming to practice with him. He could remember exactly the day he gave up hope.

"You—" you stammered, your hand flying to your throat. It was the same action he had seen from you just a few days ago while you were in the practice room. He recognized it as a habit of yours for when you were anxious or overwhelmed because your throat closed in on itself. If that wasn't enough to make him want to lay down his sword… "—you stopped caring. When did you stop caring? I just want to know."

Everything went silent for him, just for a split second. You thought… you thought he stopped caring? How could he ever stop caring about you? Wasn't that why he was so upset in the first place?

And when the world zapped back into play, he was sure his skin was ashen. His throat bobbed. "How could you think so little of me?"

Your forehead creased. "Little? Changmin, you were everything to me."

Dear heart—

You were shaking your head and taking a step away from him then. "You couldn't possibly understand."

Just like that, there was fire in his veins again. "That's because you never gave me a chance to understand!"

You threw a look back at him and again, he could read everything there like an open book, so much unlike the wall he had been met with all this time. "And I can say the exact same thing about you. If you think I kept things from you, Ji Changmin—" you said with the undertone of a snarl, so fierce that, as you turned on your foot to face him again, your breath came out like that of a dragon's smoke, "—then how much have you kept from me?"

His nostrils flared and his hands gestured wildly, vaguely—he pressed his palms to his eyes with a haggard sigh. "Why are you here, Yn?" He asked again, finally. He lowered his hands and took a step toward you. "Are you here just to pick a fight with me?"

You paused.

He watched you open your mouth, then close it.

You pursed your lips, finally murmuring, "No. I didn't come here for you."

For some reason, that hurt even more.

— ✶

The practice room was colder than it usually was.

Changmin kept the lights dim for the sake of his stinging eyes, and he dumped his duffle bag in the corner of the room before making a beeline for the aux cord for the speaker system. He hooked up his phone and opened up his music files, his forehead pressing against the cool mirror wall.

For a moment, he simply let his eyes flutter shut and his lungs to breathe.

You were long gone by now, and Changmin considered just going back to his apartment, but he knew he would just lie in bed awake for hours if he did.

When he opened his eyes, he swiped out of his music and instead went to a file kept deep down in the depths of his storage. He had purposely named it so it would remain at the absolute bottom of the list when alphabetized, and the pass code on it was supposed to dissuade him from accessing it.

Supposed to.

He punched in the four digits of your birthday and the lock clicked open to reveal a hefty file of video after video. There were photos of you, too, somewhere, but the videos were all at the top of the file because of their size. He didn't know what he was gonna do when his phone ran out of storage; he figured that when that day came, it would either be when you and he finally figured shit out, or he got closure and could delete them all.

He sighed.

His thumb hovered over one of the video files near the top, one where he could see your face in the thumbnail.

When he opened it, his younger face filled the screen. His tongue poked out from his lips as he carefully settled his phone against the wall next to yours as both of your phones recorded the run-through that was about to happen.

"Changminnie! Come on, I'm starting the song!" Your voice echoed against the practice room walls, and his laughter soon followed as he scurried into place next to you.

Changmin watched his younger self transform his expression into something more serious, while you had looked at him through the mirror and burst out laughing.

Younger Changmin broke his facade, the dimples in his cheeks deep, his smile bright. "What?"

You grinned back at him. "Sorry, sorry! Nothing; it's just interesting how you can just shift your facial expression like that."

"You have to practice like you perform though!"

"I know, I know. I just like your smile better, y'know?"

Changmin could see the hearts in his younger self's eyes. Jesus, had he really blushed that hard? Younger Changmin cupped the back of his neck bashfully. "Really?"

You punched his arm playfully. "Yeah. It's really pretty, Changmin. I thought I told you this before."

"Well yeah, but it doesn't hurt to hear it again—yah! Hey, I can bite back, you know—!"

Changmin's eyes shuddered as the familiar melody of the song flowed into his ears. He abruptly slammed his thumb down onto the pause button.

No, he couldn't stomach hearing it. Not when he could recall every move from memory and not when he had no partner to complement those moves. It just reminded him of the gaping hole in his chest and the emptiness of this room.

"Let's get to work, Changmin," he muttered to himself as he swiped out of the folder and back to his music files. He had an actual to-do list in mind, after all, and it did not include a dive into the forbidden folder. (No matter how much he needed to hear your voice again, for once, not arguing with him.)

EPISODE EIGHT: OFF THE HOOK

"HE'S been pissy all morning—"

Changmin suppressed a groan of frustration as he heard his friend's voices nearing the dressing room he was in. All morning, the performing arts building had been a madhouse, even worse than the night of the draft showcase. Everyone just decided to be here today, whether they were his fellow dancers trying to score a practice room, one of the prospective actors auditioning for a part in Hyunjae's best friend's thesis play, or one of the tech members trying to make sure everything worked behind the scenes.

Changmin had gone from room to room in an attempt to find an empty one where he could have some peace in working on his own. He would have just gone home at this point, but Chanhee was stressing over his own exams, so Changmin was stuck here.

So taking all of that into account, including the rough encounter he'd had with you a couple days ago, plus a lack of sleep and coffee—not the happiest squirrel on campus.

(How could you just drop a bomb like "You were everything to me, Changmin" in his lap and expect him not to think of anything else for days on end?)

The door to the dressing room he was hiding in cracked open, and all of the cacophony from the outside flooded in, as well as a crush of his friends.

"Don't you guys have class?" Changmin moaned, his hand coming up to rub his sleep-deprived eyes.

"Well, yeah, but this is much more fun," came Younghoon's teasing chuckle as he walked over to Changmin and clasped a hand on his shoulder.

Changmin made a face. "I just wanted some peace and quiet."

Sunwoo scoffed. "Peace and quiet? You've come to the wrong place, hyung."

"Yeah," Hyunjae added on, "might as well take a break for once and come watch auditions with us! HJ!Yn needs help judging people anyway."

Changmin cocked a brow at the blond. "You should call Chanhee for that then. Shouldn't you be out there, Younghoon?" He nodded toward the tall, lanky drama major present.

Younghoon shook his head, bouncing on the balls of his feet. How did he have so much energy? "Nope. I'm auditioning for a part, so she's gatekeeping me from watching."

Changmin turned from his friends slightly as he reached down for his phone that he had situated on top of the small bluetooth speaker he had the good sense to bring. Then again, maybe he should have just stuck to earbuds… whatever. He was too tired to care. Part of him wanted to add to the chaos anyway.

"What's her thesis play about again?" He asked no one in particular. Sunwoo waddled over to him and stole his phone right from his hands and began browsing through the music selection.

"It's a modern take of one of Shakespeare's plays: Much Ado About Nothing," answered Younghoon. "It was really funny actually, like the original play. Lots of matchmaking, lots of stupidity. I think they dump someone in a lake..."

Hyunjae perked up. "Oh yeah! That was probably my favorite part of the whole script."

Changmin chuckled. "I was expecting you to say something like 'the whole thing's my favorite because my best friend wrote it'."

"Oh, no, that still applies."

Changmin, Sunwoo, and Younghoon all exchanged knowing looks with one another. Mhm… so they thought. There were a few too many in their friend group who had interesting relationships with their other friends. Exhibit A: whatever the fuck was happening with Hyunjae and his.

Hyunjae caught their silent communication and furrowed his eyebrows. "What?"

Sunwoo snorted, but Younghoon was the one to drawl, "It's absolutely nothing."

Changmin pressed his lips into a cheeky smile, brushing the bangs from out of his vision. Hyunjae's lips quirked to the side in a frown, but didn't make any comment on it. It wasn't a new reaction from the group, by any means, but… oh well. That would be a tale for another time.

With that being said, Changmin followed the three of them out of the relative privacy of the dressing room and out into the hustle-bustle of the main backstage corridor. As soon as that dressing room was vacated, however, somebody was swift to occupy it. Changmin cursed inwardly; guess he wouldn't be able to come back to that room later.

With the switching of theater leadership over the past year (a changing of the guard, if you would, but with professors and sponsors), the management of the entire performing arts department was a mess and a half. There were a few stand-out graduate students and undergraduates who were keeping everything in check for all of the events happening over this year—like Hyunjae’s best friend, Lee Jihoon (a graduate student specializing in sound and music production), and Moon Taeil (a graduate who was a soloist in the chamber choir).

As the four young men made their way closer to the immediate backstage, the sound miraculously dulled down. The lights were a lot dimmer here, as the spotlights were turned toward the main stage. Changmin spotted a few people scattered throughout the backstage area with phones or folded script packets in their hands as they recited their lines to themselves, with some even making exaggerated facial expressions and grand hand gestures.

Hyunjae’s best friend was one of the up and coming director-screenwriter “prodigies” that the drama department championed. She was a year older than Changmin was, and he didn’t need to be a genius to know that there were a crowd of people vying for a role in her graduating thesis play. It must have been stressful as fuck, but he knew that she had a good head on her shoulders—

“—I’m gonna stop you right there.”

HJ!Yn’s voice resounded from the other side of the hefty velvet curtains separating the backstage from the main stage. Hyunjae made a show of pressing his index finger to his lips to signal his friends to be quiet—Sunwoo thus made a show of rolling his eyes (“Duh, we’re gonna be quiet.”). They all huddled to the side of the curtain and poked their heads out to see what was going on.

The university performing arts hall was likely one of the most magnificent places on campus. It featured a vast array of floor seating, while also boasting three levels of balcony seats. Changmin remembered once briefly learning the anatomy of the theater seating: the floor or nosebleeds, the slightly lofted box seats, the grand circle, loge circle, and upper circle—the gods. It was all very antiquarian, but it was a place Changmin had become quite familiar with over the years.

The director herself sat in the dimmed nosebleeds section, in the smack middle. Someone had dragged out one of those plastic, foldable tables for her to set her paperwork and a small, battery-operated lamp on top of.

Curiously, sitting next to her was none other than Bae Sumin, your new recruit.

Changmin straightened, accidentally bumping into Younghoon’s shoulder as he did. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Younghoon shook his head to say that it was all good, his hand lifted in acknowledgement.

“Did you know Sumin was here?” He asked his friend.

Younghoon’s expression was thoughtful. “I think so? I left to go find you when I thought I heard someone say they saw her come in. Why? Did she not tell you when the dance department interviews were gonna be held?”

Changmin recalled receiving no notice. “No. I—I figured Yn would be here, too, then. Right?” Was he ready to face you again so soon? Would you even acknowledge him this time—?

Younghoon passed him an amused glance with a small smile fitted over his face. “That would make sense,” he murmured with his arms crossed over his chest. One of his hands reached up to idly massage his jaw. “I’d imagine she would be with her friends, somewhere around here. Though, it would also make sense that she would be sitting with Sumin, too. Then again—”

“You are… no help,” Changmin deadpanned.

His friend chuckled lowly, eyes upturned into slim crescents.

“Uh Jihoon-ah?”

Changmin and Younghoon’s attention flitted over towards the far side of the backstage and they watched as a girl chased after the resident sound producer graduate student. He was, perhaps, smaller than one might anticipate from the intimidating man, but he still harbored so much scary energy and talent within his body. Like all of the staff on the technical team, the pair were clad in all black.

Jihoon glanced up from his clipboard and at the girl. “Hm?”

The girl nodded toward the curtains. “Director is calling for a break and is asking if the house lights can be turned on.”

“Ah okay, come on then. Follow me.”

As the two of them strode across the length of the backstage, the girl’s eyes found Changmin and Younghoon, and… She was looking past him now at someone else. She lifted her hand in a small wave, paired with a smile, “Hi, Sunwoo.”

Changmin whipped his head around, only to realize that Hyunjae had disappeared, but Sunwoo was now standing on Changmin’s other side. He watched in utter delight as his younger friend flushed, even in the dim lighting, at the girl’s greeting. His eyes were wide as he squeaked out a quick, “Hey!” in return.

When Jihoon and his charge had gone out of view, Changmin turned on Sunwoo with a hyena cackle. “Oh my god! Who was that, Kim Sunwoo?”

Sunwoo seemed to shrink into the collar of his hoodie. “No one.”

Changmin’s laughter lit up the room just as the house lights thunk-thunk-thunk’d to life. Younghoon had slipped away, most likely to meet Hyunjae in the nosebleeds, which left only the two of them there alone. “Do you have a crush on her?”

“Yah! You’re such a menace,” Sunwoo groaned, whacking Changmin with the extra length of his sweater paw. “You can’t even talk, dude! You’re in love with a girl who can barely stand to be in the same room—” Sunwoo realized his slip up and slapped a palm over his mouth.

Ouch. The truth hurt, didn’t it? Changmin chuckled, though it was noticeably quieter now. “Well, you’re not wrong—” He shook his head, eyebrows creased together, “—wait, no. Wait, I’m not in love with her!”

Sunwoo rolled his eyes so hard he must have seen his brain up there. “Oh, please. The last time you were drunk and emotional, you showed us that secret little folder in your phone.” He jabbed his finger accusingly at the phone in Changmin’s hand.

Changmin scowled, pressing his phone to his chest as if to protect it in case Sunwoo decided to have wandering hands. “That was told to you in confidence!”

“No, it was told to me in a drunken stupor—” The two of them began to make their way back toward the edge of the curtain, ducking out from its shadow and onto the main stage. Hyunjae and Younghoon were indeed in the nosebleeds now, but Sumin was nowhere to be seen. Maybe she had only been here to observe the audition process. “And you guys say I’m the lightweight.”

“That’s because you are the lightweight.”

Just as the two of them hopped down from the stage and onto the ground floor of seats, Juyeon came in from the doors located at the back of the seats. He raised a hand in greeting to all present, cheerfully waving with that golden retriever-esque grin. “Hey guys! Oh, Changminnie, I was just looking for you.”

Changmin’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh? What’s up, Juyeon?”

Sunwoo retreated into the rows up where Hyunjae and Younghoon were, while Changmin met up with Juyeon in the rightmost aisle.

Juyeon threw a thumb behind him toward the direction he had just come from. “Sumin was asking if you would be willing to do your interview right now.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Right now?”

“That’s what I just said, wasn’t it?”

Changmin pressed his lips together, before nodding. “Uh, for sure. Yeah, lead the way.”

The two dancers hiked their way back up to the back of the area and through the door Juyeon had originally entered through. The main lobby was much less crowded—it was practically barren, which made it the perfect environment to conduct an interview in. Sumin was setting herself up at one of the couches, setting her laptop, phone, and coffee cup on the coffee table opposite to her.

She raised her head when she heard the door open and close, and a bright smile graced her features. “Oh, you found him! Thanks, Juyeonie.”

“Yeah, no problem,” he chirped. “I’ve got a couple things to handle first, but just ask someone to come find me once you and Changmin are done.”

With Juyeon swiftly taking his leave, Changmin was left to take a seat on the other end of the couch that Sumin was sitting at. “Hey, nice to see you again, Sumin,” he said, crossing one ankle over the other and resting his arm along the back of the couch.

The corners of her smile widened. “Nice to see you, too, Changmin! Sorry this was so sudden; I figured that I could get started on some of the interviews while I was here.”

“Oh, yeah, no worries,” he chuckled.

She reached for her phone, fidgeting as she swiped to a simple recording application. “I hope you don’t mind me recording this…?” At his consent, she nodded. “Okay, cool. I did wanna say something before we started.”

He sat up just a bit. “What is it?”

There was a sort of twinkle in her eyes, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her manner became a lot more bashful all of a sudden. “I have to confess that I asked my mentor, Yn, if she could send me some of your dance performance videos and I’m literally in awe of your talent. Like, I wanted to tell you how starstruck I am just being able to tell you this right now, but I just wanted to say this before we started.”

He broke into a boyish grin at this, his dimples becoming craters of joy in the apples of his cheeks. “Ah, thank you—that really means a lot,” he smiled.

Sumin added on, one of her palms pressing against the couch cushion as she leaned toward him slightly, “I mean, I don’t even know how Yn was able to find videos of you from high school, but I’m so glad she did, because—”

Wait what. Changmin was watching Sumin’s mouth move as she talked but he wasn’t truly hearing what she said. His humble, albeit a bit dumbfounded, smile remained, but her words from just before resonated in his head. There were definitely a few of his dance performance videos online from his high school days, but did you keep links to them? Did you keep the recordings on your phone?

The fact that Sumin asked you meant that she probably had no clue about your past, only that you were the person Sumin could rely on if she had any questions.

What did it mean? What did it mean?

His heart pounded in his chest at the thought that maybe he could possibly have an excuse to get you to talk to him, even if it was one, truly dumbass excuse.

“—ready?”

Changmin snapped out of his dazed state. “Sorry?”

Sumin blushed slightly, clearing her throat. At some point, she had pulled her laptop onto her lap and prepped her phone by placing it in between the two of them to record the following conversation. “Are you ready to start?”

He coughed, straightening and adjusting his position. “Oh, yeah—uh, sorry. Yeah, whenever you’re ready.”

Sumin gauged his reaction carefully, but instead of pressing the record button, she hit the power button. “If I may, you seem a little distracted. I don’t really want this to feel like a burden if you’ve got a lot on your plate.”

Shit. “No, I mean,” he shook his head, “I’m sorry. I guess my mind just wanders really easily when…” He huffed a sigh, dragging a hand down his face. “I’m a little tired, that’s all.”

“I totally get that,” she sympathized. “You’ve probably been practicing non-stop lately for the winter showcase. We don’t have to do this today if you’re not in the right headspace.”

He sighed and couldn’t help but feel just a little relieved. He needed to talk to Chanhee about this, math exam or dance practice be damned. But there was a part of him that definitely felt awful about having to cut off her interview even before it began. He gestured to her phone. “How about we reschedule? We could meet up sometime else during the week to redo this and I promise I’ll be all yours.”

He didn’t know what he did, but the pink on her cheeks deepened to a cherry red. “Oh, uh, sure!” She giggled, taking her phone and passing it over to him. “You can just put your phone number in there and I’ll text you to ask when you wanna meet up.”

Changmin nodded his agreement and swiftly inputted his contact information into the given slots. “Definitely,” he said before handing her phone back to her. The phone fumbled between the two of them, but Changmin was already standing up with the goal to go retrieve his bag (wherever it was), and to go consult Chanhee and the man’s infinitesimal opinions. “Really sorry again, Sumin.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” She dismissed his worries with a flick of her wrist. “Would you mind finding Juyeon, though?”

Changmin sent her a thumb’s up over his shoulder on his way to the door. “Yeah, for sure.”

She returned the gesture, watching as he disappeared out of the main lobby. It was only when he was definitely gone, she covered her mouth with her hand and stared at his saved contact in her phone. Then, with a silent scream of happiness, she ran to her text chain with you to tell you all about it.

a/n: PLS STILL REBLOG THIS PART EVEN THO ITS NOT THE FULL THING PLS PLS PLS IM BEGGING

read part two here (also linked at top)

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