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[honeyscara]

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[honeyscara]

Chapter 1 : zombies!!

~zombies, cortis ot5

Tw/cw: blood, gore & strong language

the start | prev | next

A heavy, suffocating silence fell over the classroom, broken only by the distant, blood-curdling screams echoing through the hallways and the occasional wet, guttural growls of the infected outside. The air felt thick with fear and the faint metallic tang of blood that had followed you in.

"What the fuck just happened..." Dohyun(one of the other classmates) muttered his voice shaky as he slumped against a desk, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Zombies," Woojin said flatly, pressing himself against the wall beside the covered window. He carefully peeled back a corner of the newspaper to peek outside, his face twisting in horror at whatever he saw. "Actual fucking zombies. This can't be real."

Yoonchae leaned heavily against a lab bench in the corner, her face contorted in pain. Juhoon knelt beside her, carefully propping her injured foot up on a stool. Her ankle was already swelling badly, the skin turning purplish-red from the earlier twist during the escape.

"How is that even possible?" Nayeon whispered, hugging her knees to her chest on the floor. Her voice trembled, tears glistening in her eyes. "Zombies? Like... from movies? This has to be some kind of prank or—"

"We don’t know," Keonho cut in, sliding down the wall with a exhausted sigh. He still gripped the bloodied baseball bat tightly in his hands, knuckles white. "But we gotta stay close and trust eachother"

You stood frozen next to Seonghyeon, his presence warm and steady at your side after he’d pulled you to safety earlier. Yet your eyes weren’t on him. They scanned the room until they landed on Martin, who was hovering protectively near Rora by the teacher’s desk. You checked him over instinctively to make sure he didn't have any injuries. He looked okay, but your mind immediately spiraled to James.

"Shit–James," you gasped, straightening up suddenly. Panic clawed at your chest as you bolted toward the door, heart pounding with the terrifying thought of your brother out there.

"Are you trying to get us all killed?!" Nayeon snapped coldly. She lunged forward and shoved you back from the door with surprising force, her hands rough against your shoulders.

"Y/N" Martin was at your side in an instant, stepping firmly between you and Nayeon.

"James is out there, Martin..." Your voice cracked, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. The argument from this morning flashed through your mind. What if that was the last time you ever saw him?

Martin pulled you into a tight, comforting hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. One hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he murmured against your hair, "He’ll be fine. James is strong. Don’t worry, okay? I promise we’ll find him"

You clung to him for a moment, drawing comfort from his familiar warmth, even as guilt and fear twisted inside you.

"Okay, enough of that," Dohyun said, his tone trying to sound firm. "We need to focus on what we should do now."

"Our phones are gone too," Yoonchae added weakly. She tried to stand but winced sharply in pain, grabbing Juhoon’s arm for support as he gently eased her back down. Her ankle looked even worse up close...This was bad.

"Guys," you said, forcing yourself to push the panic aside, "let’s try looking through everyone’s bags. Maybe someone hid a spare phone or has something we can use for self-defense."

"Good idea," Seonghyeon agreed softly from beside you, his voice steady and reassuring. His hand brushed lightly against your arm before he moved away.

The group split up quickly, rummaging through abandoned backpacks and drawers with urgent, hushed movements.

"Guys, a phone!" Rora exclaimed, her voice cracking with a spark of desperate hope as she pulled a cracked smartphone from one of the backpacks. The entire group rushed towards her in a frantic cluster.

Nayeon was the quickest, snatching it from Rora’s hands before anyone else could react. Her fingers trembled as she frantically tapped at the screen, only to groan in frustration. "Stupid password..." The lock screen stared back mockingly, demanding a code none of them knew.

Martin moved fast, gently but firmly taking the phone from her. "Emergency calling doesn’t need a password," he said, his voice mocking Nayeon a little. He quickly dialed the emergency number and put it on speaker.

One ring.

Two rings.

Then nothing. Just an endless, haunting silence on the other end. The phone eventually went dead.

The small flame of hope that had ignited moments ago was brutally blown out. Martin lowered the phone and tossed it onto a desk with a heavy sigh. For several minutes, no one spoke. The only sounds were the faint, unsettling groans that still echoed somewhere far down the corridor.

You sank down beside Rora on the dusty floor, your back against a cabinet. She wrapped a comforting arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The weight of everything pressed down on you and James was still out there somewhere. The image of bloodied classmates and the possibility that you might never see your brother again terrified you.

Juhoon broke the silence first, "We need to get to the broadcast room. If we can send out a message, maybe survivors will hear it. We should also look for bandages and medicine for Yoonchae on the way." He glanced over at her, where she sat with her injured ankle propped up, her face pale and glistening with sweat.

"Do you want us to get killed by heading out there?" Dohyun shot back, his voice sharp with fear. He gestured wildly toward the door. "We barely made it here alive!"

"Guys, listen..." Rora said suddenly, holding up a hand. Everyone froze, straining their ears. The constant growling and screaming had gone eerily quiet. An unnatural stillness hung in the air, broken only by the faint ticking of the classroom clock.

"It’s still not safe though," Nayeon muttered, hugging her knees tighter. "We have no idea what’s out there."

"But we can’t just stay here forever," you spoke up, your voice firmer than you felt. "If we don’t move, we’re going to die by starving, or worse, when they eventually break in."

Seonghyeon nodded from where he leaned against the teacher’s desk, "I think three of us should go for supplies in the infirmary and then meet the rest in the broadcast room. They’re in the same building, so it’s not too far"

The plan made sense. Dangerous, but logical.

"I’m in," you said without hesitation, driven by the need to do something, especially if it meant a chance to look for James along the way. Martin, Woojin, Dohyun, and Rora quickly volunteered as well, nodding with grim determination.

"Oh hell no," Nayeon said immediately, shaking her head. "I’m not going anywhere. You guys are crazy."

"Then feel free to die here," Woojin snapped sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

"You’re such a fucking loser, you know that?" Nayeon spat back, her voice rising with anger and fear.

"Hey, hey calm down," Martin intervened quickly, stepping between them and holding Woojin back with a firm hand on his chest. The tension in the room crackled. Everyone was still on edge from the adrenaline and terror still coursing through their veins.

"I don’t mind going to the infirmary first," Seonghyeon said quietly, his voice calm but resolute as he adjusted his grip on a makeshift weapon.

"I’m joining you," you said immediately, stepping forward.

Martin’s eyes widened. "Are you crazy? You’re not going there–" he started, reaching for your arm, but you pulled away. After a tense argument, the groups were decided: you, Seonghyeon, and Martin would detour to the infirmary for medical supplies, while the others headed straight to the broadcast room.

The classroom lab offered limited options, but desperation made do. You grabbed a heavy pair of metal scissors, Seonghyeon took a long ruler that was sharpened at one end, and Martin armed himself with a beaker filled with some kind of liquid he hoped would sting. The others scavenged what they could.

"Okay, we good?" Keonho asked, scanning everyone’s faces. Nervous nods rippled through the group. He cracked the door open slowly, the hinges creaking, and peered into the hallway.

"All clear," he whispered.

One by one, you slipped out into the blood-streaked corridor. The air was thick with the coppery stench of blood. Dohyun and Keonho took the lead, moving with cautious steps. Juhoon and Rora supported Yoonchae between them, her injured ankle making every movement a painful limp. You, Martin, and Woojin flanked the sides and rear, eyes darting nervously, weapons raised.

The walk toward the connecting exit to the next building felt endless. The hallway was a horror scene: smeared handprints of blood streaked the lockers, broken glass crunched underfoot, and several lifeless bodies lay crumpled on the floor. Your breathing grew shallow and ragged as panic clawed up your throat. James… where is he? Is he one of them now? Did he make it?

Martin, walking just behind you, noticed the way your shoulders tensed and your steps faltered. He reached forward and gently squeezed your shoulder, his touch warm and grounding. "Hey," he murmured close to your ear. "Breathe"

You managed a weak nod, but the fear refused to loosen its grip.

"Stop," Keonho whispered sharply, throwing up a hand. The group froze instantly.

"Why–" Woojin began, but Rora clamped a hand over his mouth, eyes wide with terror.

Just ahead, right before the corridor connecting to the next building, a group of five or six zombies shuffled aimlessly. Their movements were jerky and unnatural. One still wore a recognizable school jacket, now ripped and soaked. Low, guttural growls rumbled from their throats as they bumped into each other, blocking the only path forward.

Everyone pressed back against the wall, barely daring to breathe. Seonghyeon’s hand brushed against yours for a split second...whether accidental or intentional, it sent a small jolt through you. Martin, on your other side, looked ready to pull you behind him at any moment.

The zombies hadn’t noticed you yet… but one wrong sound, one sudden movement, and that could change in an instant.The group pressed tightly against the cold wall, barely breathing. The zombies ahead shuffled and groaned, their bloody, broken bodies twitching unnaturally under the flickering hallway lights.

Seonghyeon signaled with his hand for everyone to move slowly. “...one step at a time,” he whispered.

You all began creeping forward, hugging the opposite side of the hallway. Your heart pounded so loudly you were scared the zombies could hear it. Martin stayed glued to your side, while Keonho and Dohyun led the way, eyes locked on the infected blocking the connecting doors.

For a few terrifying seconds, it seemed like you might actually slip past them.

Then crack.

Woojin accidentally stepped on a piece of broken glass. The sharp sound echoed through the silent corridor like a gunshot. Every zombie head snapped in your direction at once. Their cloudy eyes locked onto the group, and guttural snarls ripped from their throats.

“RUN!” Woojin screamed.

The zombies charged with terrifying speed, arms outstretched and jaws snapping. The hallway filled with their horrifying growls.

“Fuck– move it!” nayeon shouted, shoving Yoonchae forward.

Yoonchae cried out in pain as she tried to run, her badly swollen ankle giving out beneath her. “I can’t—ahh!”

“I’ve got you!” Rora said desperately, throwing Yoonchae’s arm over her shoulder. Juhoon quickly supported her from the other side. Together they half-dragged, half-carried her down the hall as fast as they could.

You and Martin stayed at the back, protecting the group. Martin swung his glass beaker hard at one zombie that got too close, shattering it across its face and slowing it down. You gripped your metal scissors tightly, stabbing wildly at another that lunged toward Rora.

“almost there!” you yelled, voice shaking with adrenaline.

Screams and growls chased you as your group burst through another set of double doors into the next building. The moment the last person crossed, Seonghyeon and Keonho slammed the doors shut. The zombies crashed into the doors from the other side, banging and snarling violently. The glass rattled but held on for now.

Everyone collapsed against the walls, gasping for air.

“We… we made it,” Rora panted, still holding Yoonchae up.

Seonghyeon straightened up, breathing heavily. “We need to split now. No time to waste.” He looked at you, Martin, and then the others. “We’ll head left to the infirmary. The rest of you go right to the broadcast room.”

Rora nodded nervously. “Be careful. Don’t die.”

“You too,” Martin replied, glancing at the group.

Nayeon looked like she wanted to complain again but stayed quiet, fear winning over her attitude.

You turned to Seonghyeon and Martin. The three of you were now on your own. The hallway to the left stretched ahead, dimly lit and eerily quiet.

Martin looked at you, worry clear in his eyes. “Stay between us, okay? If anything happens… I’ve got your back.”

Seonghyeon gave a small nod, his expression serious. “Let’s move”

With one final look at your friends heading right, you turned left with Seonghyeon and Martin, gripping your makeshift weapon tighter as the three of you ventured deeper into the silent, blood-stained corridor toward the infirmary. The emergency lights overhead flickered weakly, casting long shadows that made every corner look like a threat. Bloody handprints smeared the walls, and the occasional distant groan sent chills down your spine.

“Stay close,” Seonghyeon whispered, glancing back at you.

You nodded, heart racing, your grip tight on the metal scissors. Suddenly, a lone zombie stumbled out from a side classroom ahead. Its jaw hung loosely, blood dripping from its torn neck. Martin reacted fast, shoving you gently behind him.

“I got it—” he started, but Seonghyeon was already moving.

They both lunged at the same time, nearly crashing into each other. Martin swung a broom he found at a corner while Seonghyeon stabbed with the sharpened ruler. Their weapons crossed awkwardly, and they bumped shoulders hard.

“Watch it!” Martin hissed.

“You watch it!” Seonghyeon shot back, but there was no anger. After they finally brought the zombie down in a clumsy but effective team effort, they stood there breathing heavily, staring at each other.

Seonghyeon wiped sweat from his forehead. “not bad...your height is pretty useful.”

Martin let out a short, breathless laugh. “we could make a nice team”

You couldn’t help but shake your head as even in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, these boys found a way to joke around.

A few more close calls followed: another infected nearly grabbed Seonghyeon from behind, but you stabbed it in the head with your scissors just in time. Further down, a blocked hallway forced the three of you to climb over a pile of overturned desks and broken glass.

By the time you reached the infirmary door, all three of you were exhausted, covered in sweat and small cuts, but alive. Seonghyeon pushed the door open slowly.

“Okay… let’s be fast,” Martin said, closing the door behind you and wedging a chair under the handle. “Grab anything useful.”

You split up immediately and searched the drawers near the beds, pulling out bandages, gauze, painkillers, and a small first-aid kit. Martin moved toward the storage cabinets on the far side.

“Jackpot,” he whispered excitedly, pulling out several bottles of fresh water and a few sealed packs of energy snacks. “These will help Yoonchae and the others.”

Seonghyeon headed for the tall supply cupboard in the corner. “I’ll check here for meds or—”

The door burst open violently as he pulled it. The former school nurse, still wearing a torn white coat lunged out with shocking speed and tackled Seonghyeon to the ground.

“Seonghyeon!” you screamed.

He hit the floor hard, the creature snapping its teeth inches from his neck. Seonghyeon struggled, pushing desperately against its shoulders. Martin didn’t freeze. He swung a stick with full force, smashing it against the zombie’s head and knocking it off Seonghyeon.

“Now, Y/N!” Martin shouted.

You didn’t think and just acted. Gripping your scissors with both hands, you drove them straight into the back of the zombie’s skull. It jerked once, then went limp with a sickening final twitch.

Seonghyeon shoved the body away and scrambled backward, breathing heavily. “Shit… that was too close.”

Martin helped him up quickly, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You okay, bro?”

“Yeah… thanks,” Seonghyeon replied, still shaken. “Both of you.”

You wiped the blood off your scissors with a shaky hand, trying to steady your breathing. The room felt smaller now, the reality of how quickly things could go wrong settling heavily over all three of you.

Martin handed you a bottle of water. “We should head back to the broadcast room soon. But first… let’s patch ourselves up a little.”

Taglist: @glitchninx @iwanttobecalledduhh @dudfffc453 @fromsaltandsea @caramelpuddingmartin @vilovestosimp @wheresangel @princessglittersparkle09 @brazilianhere @jiyeons-closet @taelvvrzz @chickenlanjiao @strawberrynchoc

[honeyscara]

GIRL I NEED chapter one of ‘zombies’ NOWWWW im starting to lose hearing in my left eye

Will post today i promise😭

[honeyscara]

❝ Zombies! ❞ - Cortis ot5

~cortis

A/n's note: this is a work of fiction, it is loosely based off all of us are dead, non idol au & fem!reader x cortis

Synopsis: A zombie apocalypse? That sounded ridiculous—or at least that's what you thought until one day, when you and your friends had to face it yourselves, with no one coming to help you.

Mentions: cortis, woochan & youngseo from adp, rora from BM, yoonchae from katseye

Cw/tw: graphic violence , gore, body horror( description of injuries), mentions of death, family conflict, anxiety attacks, strong language and lots of swearing

Comment below to be added to the taglist~

Prologue

Chapter 1: zombies!!

Chapter 2: survival!

Chapter 3: nightmare!

[honeyscara]

❝ Zombies! ❞ - Cortis ot5

~cortis

A/n's note: this is a work of fiction, it is loosely based off all of us are dead, non idol au & fem!reader x cortis

Synopsis: A zombie apocalypse? That sounded ridiculous ...or at least that's what you thought until one day, when you and your friends had to face it yourselves, with no one coming to help you.

Mentions!: cortis, woochan & youngseo from Adp, rora from BM, yoonchae from Katseye

Cw/tw: graphic violence , gore, body horror (description of injuries), mentions of death, family conflict, anxiety attacks, strong language and lots of swearing

~3k words | zombies! Masterlist | next chapter

Prologue

"Hey, Seonghyeon... what did you want to talk about?" you asked, your cheeks warming as he stood before you. The soft afternoon light filtered through the cherry blossom trees, casting delicate pink petals across his shoulders. Your heart fluttered in that familiar, hopeful rhythm.

Seonghyeon shifted nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "Hey… so I wanted to tell you something."

"Yes?" Your ears perked up, breath catching in your throat. Is this it?

"I wanted to say that…" He paused, his eyes flickering with hesitation.

"That?" you repeated, leaning in slightly.

"That… you’re gonna be late."

His voice warped strangely, like a broken record slowing down.

"What?"

"I said you’re gonna be late," he repeated, his words distorting further, stretching unnaturally. Horror crawled up your spine as his figure began to dissolve and the ground beneath your feet crumbled.

You jolted awake with a gasp.

"What the hell, James?!" you whined, still half-trapped in the dream as your older brother yanked the blanket off you and grabbed your arm, hauling you out of bed.

"It’s almost time for the gates to close, that’s what," he snapped, clearly exhausted. "I’m tired of babysitting your ass every morning. Be responsible for once in your life."

"Then stop babysitting me!" you screamed back, voice still hoarse from sleep.

James rolled his eyes and walked out of your room, muttering under his breath. You sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, rubbing your eyes and trying to shake off the lingering disappointment from the dream. With a heavy sigh, you forced yourself up and began getting ready for school.

When you finally shuffled into the living room, still fixing your vest, you found James rushing around like a whirlwind. He was simultaneously packing his bag, stuffing notebooks into one while flipping an egg in the pan with the other. The smell of buttered toast and fried eggs filled the air, warm and familiar.

The moment he noticed you, his frantic movements paused. He reached up into the cupboard, pulled out a small pale blue box tied with a white ribbon, and walked over with a rare, soft smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him, suspicion flickering across your face. "What's with that smile?"

James simply held the box out toward you, his expression steady but gentle. The morning light streaming through the kitchen window caught the pale blue wrapping, making the white ribbon glow softly.

"I know your birthday is still two days away," he said quietly, "and I know you don’t want anything… but still."

You stared at the box like it might burn you. "I don’t wish to celebrate my birthday."

The words came out flat, a practiced wall meant to bury the memories that always threatened to rise this time of year. Two years back there was the laughter that used to fill the house, the smell of cake, the sound of your father clapping when you spun across the living room in your ballet outfit and now nothing.

"Y/n just open it," James urged, his voice softer now.

You sighed heavily, shoulders tense, and finally took the box. The moment you lifted the lid, your breath hitched in your throat. Inside, nestled in delicate tissue paper, was a brand-new pair of ballet shoes, the softest blush pink with pristine satin ribbons. They looked beautiful. The kind you used to dream about.

"What is this?" Your voice rose, sharp with disbelief and rising guilt.

"I know how much you love ballet," James replied, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "I thought—"

"Why?" The word cracked out of you like a whip. "After everything that happened that day… Why? I don’t want to do it anymore. I told you!"

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as memories flooded in from two years back.

"Y/N—" James started, stepping closer.

You cut him off, voice trembling with anger. "And you don’t have to take care of me!!"

In a surge of raw emotion, you hurled the shoes at him. They hit his chest and clattered to the floor, the ribbons splaying out like broken wings.

"This isn’t how you speak to your brother—" he began, jaw tightening.

"Stop acting like you’re my real fucking brother!" you yelled, tears finally spilling over. "You aren’t! And leave me the fuck alone. I can handle myself!"

The room fell into a heavy silence for a split second. Then James’s expression hardened, exhaustion and hurt flashing across his face.

"Unfortunately, I’m the only one you have left whether you like it or not." His voice was low but edged with frustration. "I’m trying so damn hard to take care of you. Working two part-time jobs just to keep this roof over our heads…ever since our parents died."

"Our?" You let out a bitter laugh, the word slicing through the air. "No. Your mom and my dad."

James froze, the tension in the room thickening like smoke. His jaw clenched visibly, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint sizzle of the forgotten eggs in the pan behind him.

He let out a low, frustrated sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. "Fuck this...you think that its easier for me? I lost my mom too, Y/N. And your dad… he was the closest thing I had to a real father after everything fell apart. But fine, you wanna keep arguing like this then be my guest."

Thats it. Without another word, you stormed toward the door, slamming it behind you harder than necessary. The echo followed you down the hallway as you headed to school without him, again. The familiar sting of guilt twisted in your chest, but you shoved it down, focusing on the cool morning air hitting your face as you exited the building.

Underneath the apartment complex, leaning casually against the faded brick wall with his hands in his pockets was Martin, your childhood bestfriend. The moment he spotted you emerging from the entrance, his eyes lit up, that bright grin spreading across his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. His messy brown hair caught the breeze, and he pushed off the wall, jogging a few steps to meet you.

But the smile faltered slightly as he got closer.

"Hey… you okay?" he asked, tilting his head. "You look upset. Did you fight with your brother again?"

You let out a heavy sigh, adjusting the strap of your bag. "Yeah. Same old stuff. But it’s whatever—I don’t want to talk about it right now."

Martin nodded understandingly, not pushing further. He fell into step beside you, his shoulder bumping yours lightly. "Alright, fair enough. How about this instead?" A mischievous spark returned to his eyes. "Race you to school? Loser buys drinks today."

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips despite everything. "You’re on."

The two of you took off down the bustling sidewalk, dodging morning commuters and street vendors setting up their stalls. Laughter bubbled up as your feet pounded the pavement, the cool wind whipping past your face.You were neck-and-neck, weaving through the crowd, the school gates just visible in the distance.

But as you pushed forward for the final sprint, heart racing and breath coming in sharp bursts, you rounded a corner too quickly and collided straight into someone.

"Oof—" You stumbled back, nearly losing your balance. Strong hands caught your arms to steady you.

When you looked up, your heart skipped a beat. It was Seonghyeon standing there in his crisp school uniform, backpack slung over one shoulder. His dark eyes widened in surprise, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he realized it was you.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" he asked, voice soft with concern, still holding your arm gently.

"Yeah—yeah, I'm good," you stammered, quickly backing away a step. Your cheeks burned hotter as fragments of the dream flooded back. You stared up at him, heart racing, suddenly hyper-aware of how close you'd collided.

Before you could say anything else, Seonghyeon leaned in slightly, his fingers brushing gently against your hair. He plucked a small pink petal from your strands and held it up between you.

"There was something in your hair," he said softly, a faint, shy smile tugging at his lips. His dark eyes met yours for a brief second, warm and attentive. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. Of course. Just when I crash into my crush like a clumsy idiot.

Meanwhile, Martin had sprinted ahead, crossing the imaginary finish line near the school gates with a triumphant whoop. He spun around, ready to boast.

"I won!" but his voice faltered the moment he spotted you and Seonghyeon standing so close. Jealousy flickered across his face like a shadow. He jogged back over, forcing a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ha, I won," he announced a little too loudly, inserting himself between you and Seonghyeon. His shoulder bumped yours protectively.

Seonghyeon blinked, glancing between you both. "Oh, sorry did I accidentally make you lose the race?"

"No, no, it's okay," you reassured him quickly, waving it off with a nervous laugh.

Just then, Keonho appeared from the crowd of students, smacking Seonghyeon playfully on the back of the head. "Morning, lovebirds," he teased with a grin.

"What’s wrong with you idiot" Seonghyeon grumbled, rubbing the spot and shooting his friend a half-hearted glare.

Martin didn't waste another second. "Y/N let's go, we'll be late." He grabbed your hand firmly, tugging you along toward the school entrance. You managed a quick wave over your shoulder. "Bye, Seonghyeon! Bye, Keonho!"

As the two of you walked toward class, the morning bustle of students filling the hallways around you, Martin kept your hand in his a moment longer than necessary before letting go. The jealousy still simmered beneath his casual tone.

"What do you even see in him?" he muttered, kicking a pebble along the corridor floor. "He's not even that good-looking or anything. Just... average."

"Shut up, Martin," you said, unable to stop the goofy grin spreading across your face. The dream flashed in your mind and your cheeks warmed once more. You bumped his shoulder lightly, laughing.

Martin’s mood visibly dropped, shoulders slumping just a fraction, but he plastered on that familiar happy act, the one he'd perfected over the years. He'd been hopelessly in love with you since you were kids. But he'd never confessed. How could he, when he saw the way your eyes lit up around Seonghyeon? He couldn't risk losing you entirely.

Soon, the two of you were joined by Juhoon and Rora near the classroom door. Rora linked her arm with yours immediately, her ponytail swinging as she chattered about the upcoming quiz. Juhoon, Martin's loyal best friend, fell into step beside him, clapping him on the back and launching into some story about last night's game.

~

The rest of the morning classes dragged on in their usual monotonous rhythm. You spent most of the time fighting off sleep, your eyelids drooped during the history lecture as the teacher's voice droned on about ancient dynasties. Every so often, your gaze would drift across the classroom to Seonghyeon, who sat a few rows ahead near the window.

The way sunlight caught in his dark hair, the focused furrow of his brow as he took notes, made your heart do that familiar, annoying flip. You tried to be subtle, but Rora kept shooting you exasperated glances from the seat beside you, clearly annoyed by your obvious distraction.

By the time the lunch bell rang, relief washed over you. The classroom erupted into chatter as students pushed back their chairs and gathered their things. You made your way to your usual spot in the cafeteria courtyard where your group had already started settling in.

You slid onto the bench beside Rora, unpacking your simple bento box. Across from you sat Martin, Juhoon, Woojin, and Yoonchae, who was quietly scrolling through her phone while nibbling on fruit. The air smelled of fried rice, kimchi, and the faint floral sweetness from the trees nearby. Laughter and shouts echoed from other tables as groups of students unwound from the morning.

Keonho and Seonghyeon were sitting together at a table a few spots away, surrounded by a cluster of other classmates. Seonghyeon was laughing at something Keonho said. You found yourself staring again, completely lost in the moment.

"Stop staring at him," Rora muttered under her breath, nudging your elbow sharply. "You're making it so obvious. Seriously, Y/N, at least pretend to be subtle."

You blinked, tearing your eyes away from Seonghyeon and Keonho's table with a guilty flush. "I wasn't—"

"Why don't you just confess already?" Woojin chimed in loudly, leaning forward with a grin as he shoveled rice into his mouth. "Put us all out of our misery."

Juhoon immediately smacked the back of Woojin's head with a loud thwack. "Dude"

Martin, who had been mid-bite, suddenly choked on his rice, coughing harshly into his fist. His face turned a shade redder than usual, eyes watering as he struggled.

"Martin, you dumbass eat slow," you said with a soft laugh, quickly sliding your water bottle across the table toward him. He took it gratefully, gulping it down while avoiding your gaze.

Yoonchae and Juhoon exchanged a knowing look across the table, their eyebrows raised in silent understanding. They both knew Martin's long-hidden feelings and the way he dimmed whenever Seonghyeon entered the picture. The tension hung in the air for a second before Rora rolled her eyes and changed the subject to some new kdrama, easing the moment back into lighter chatter.

Suddenly a deafening crash shattered everything. It sounded like metal tables being overturned, followed by a chorus of terrified screams echoing from the far side of the open area. You and the others whipped your heads toward the noise in unison. Chaos erupted instantly. Students were sprinting in every direction, backpacks abandoned on the ground, some tripping over each other in blind panic. Shouts of "What’s happening?!" and "Move!" filled the air as the crowd surged like a frightened herd.

Then you saw it.

One of your classmates stood in the middle of the courtyard, swaying unsteadily. Blood poured down the side of his face from a gruesome, gaping cut on his head, soaking the collar of his white uniform shirt crimson. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, yet he moved with violent, unnatural energy. He lunged at another student who had frozen nearby, tackling them to the ground with feral strength and swinging wildly with bloodied fists.

"What the fuck..." Woojin breathed, his chopsticks slipping from his fingers and clattering onto the table.

"Guys, shit—" Rora’s voice cracked with fear as she shot up from her seat, eyes wide with horror.

More screams pierced the air. Students were getting trampled as others tried to flee, the once-peaceful courtyard transforming into a battlefield of bodies. In the distance, you could see more figures moving erratically and stumbling with similar injuries.

"We gotta run!" Martin said urgently, standing up so fast his chair toppled behind him. His eyes darted to you, filled with protective worry, then flicked back toward the growing nightmare unfolding ahead.

Chaos exploded across the courtyard like a bomb going off. Screams tore through the air as more infected students staggered into view—bloody, snarling, moving with that horrifying, unnatural speed. Your group didn’t hesitate.

"Go! Run!" Martin shouted, grabbing your hand tightly as the six of you— you, Martin, Rora, Woojin, Juhoon, and Yoonchae—bolted from the table. You sprinted alongside them through the panicked crowd, dodging overturned chairs and abandoned lunch trays. The metallic smell of blood already hung thick in the air.

Rora screamed as one of the infected lunged at her from the side. Juhoon yanked her back just in time, and Woojin shoved a metal lunch tray into the thing’s face, buying them precious seconds. "Keep moving!" he yelled, voice strained.

You stayed in the middle of the group, legs burning as you weaved through the stampede. Another infected barreled straight toward Yoonchae. She barely dodged, but its fingers grazed her sleeve. Juhoon pulled her forward roughly. "Stay close to me!"

The school hallways were pure pandemonium. Lockers slammed, students shoved past each other, and the guttural growls of the infected echoed off the walls. Your group stuck together, pushing toward the science wing where the classrooms were more isolated.

Then it happened.

Someone slammed hard into your shoulder from the side. Pain exploded through your body as you lost balance and crashed to the cold tiled floor. The impact knocked the wind out of you. Before you could scramble up, a bloody hand grabbed your ankle, dragging you backward with terrifying strength. The infected’s jaw snapped open, rotten teeth aiming for your leg.

"Y/N!" Martin shouted, turning back desperately, but he was a few steps too far, blocked by the surging crowd.

Suddenly, strong arms wrapped around your waist. Seonghyeon appeared out of nowhere, hauling you up and away from the creature in one swift motion. Your back pressed against his chest as he pulled you to safety, his breath hot and ragged against your ear. "I’ve got you—move!"

At the same moment, Keonho swung a baseball bat he’d grabbed from somewhere—crack!—smashing it brutally across the infected’s head. The thing crumpled to the ground with a sickening thud.

"Go! Go! Go!" Keonho yelled, waving the bat wildly as he and Seonghyeon joined your group.

Adrenaline surged through you as the enlarged group now including Seonghyeon, Keonho and another two classmates sprinted down the hallway. You could hear the infected gaining behind you, their footsteps heavy and relentless. Rora was crying but still running, Juhoon supporting Yoonchae who had twisted her ankle slightly.

Finally, at the end of the corridor, Martin spotted an empty classroom. "There!"

You all burst inside, nearly falling over each other. Seonghyeon slammed the door shut behind the last person while Martin and Woojin dragged a heavy desk against it. Keonho and Juhoon quickly taped sheets of newspaper and poster paper over the glass windows and door panel, blocking the view from outside. The room fell into a tense, heavy silence broken only by everyone’s labored breathing.

You leaned against a desk, chest heaving, legs shaking. Seonghyeon stayed close, his hand still lightly gripping your arm as if to ground you. Martin watched the two of you, jaw tight, but said nothing and shifted back to barricading the door.

Outside, the screams continued. The nightmare had only just begun.

A/n's note: so umm should I continue this..? If you guys wanna be added to the taglist then drop a comment under this

[honeyscara]

❝ Stay away part 2 ❞ – Kim Juhoon

~cortis

This is the part 2, click here for part 1

A/n's note: sorry guys it took so long for this final part. It took me while since i had gone for vacations to my hometown and there was no net there so i couldn’t post it but Hope you guys like it :3

Tw/cw: bullying, physical violence, knife injury, mentions of death, mild injury & lots of swearing

~5.9k

Two weeks had passed since that day, yet Juhoon remained stubbornly unaffected by your warnings.

He still found you in the hallways, greeting you with a small nod or a quiet “hey” no matter how much you tried to avoid him. You didn’t share any classes, which helped, but lunch breaks were impossible to escape. Somehow, he always managed to appear.

Today was no different.

You were sitting in a quiet, overgrown corner right behind the old gym. Very few students knew about it. A stray calico cat you’d secretly been taking care of for weeks came running the moment she saw you, purring loudly as she rubbed against your legs.

This place was supposed to be your little sanctuary.

“Why are you here?” you asked, narrowing your eyes at Juhoon.

He stood a few steps away, looking far too innocent for someone who had clearly followed you. In his hand was a strawberry milkshake, your favorite.

“I was looking for Martin,” he said nonchalantly, as if he had simply wandered here by accident.

“Well, he’s not here,” you replied flatly, sitting down on the old wooden bench. Almost immediately, the cat jumped up beside you, purring like a tiny engine and curling into your lap. “Aww, where were you yesterday, hm?” you cooed softly, stroking her soft fur.

The cat melted under your touch, eyes half-closed in bliss.

You felt a shift in the air as Juhoon walked closer and sat on the other end of the bench. Without a word, he placed the strawberry milkshake on the bench between you two — an obvious offering. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reached over and gently petted the cat.

The little traitor immediately abandoned your lap and moved toward him, rubbing her head against his hand with happy purrs.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for Martin?” you asked, eyes still fixed on the cat.

“In a while,” Juhoon murmured, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he scratched behind the cat’s ears. “How can I ignore such a cute cat?”

The cat purred even louder and flopped onto her back between you two, clearly enjoying the attention from both sides. You frowned when the cat completely ignored you in favor of him. Your eyes drifted up to Juhoon’s face.

He looked… annoyingly cute like this. The gentle expression, the way his dark eyes softened while watching the cat. You quickly looked away, annoyed at your own thoughts.

“You’re really persistent, you know that?” you muttered, finally reaching for the strawberry milkshake. The cold cup felt nice against your warm palm.

Juhoon glanced at you, that faint, knowing smile still playing on his lips. “I’ve been told.”

The cat meowed happily, now stretched out and claiming both of your laps at once. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You took a sip of the milkshake. Sweet strawberry flavor filled your mouth.

“…Thanks,” you said quietly, almost reluctantly.

Juhoon didn’t tease you. He simply nodded, still gently stroking the cat’s fur, looking perfectly content to sit there with you in your secret little corner.

“Choco really likes you, huh?” you commented, watching the way the cat was shamelessly demanding pets from him.

Juhoon’s head snapped up toward you, surprised. “Choco?”

“Yeah, that’s her name,” you said, taking another sip of the strawberry milkshake. The sweetness helped hide the small smile threatening to break through.

A soft, amused expression crossed his face. “My turtle’s name is Choco too.”

You nearly choked on your drink. “You have a turtle?!”

“Two turtles, actually,” he corrected, looking genuinely entertained by your reaction. “Martin doesn’t know. He’d probably make fun of me for months.”

You stared at him in disbelief, a genuine laugh slipping out before you could stop it. Juhoon went still for a second, just watching you. His eyes softened, and he let out a quiet, content sigh, the corners of his lips curving into a gentle smile.

“Damn… what other secrets are you hiding?” you asked, still chuckling as you leaned back against the bench.

Juhoon shrugged, still gently stroking Choco’s back as she purred loudly between you two. “Guess you’ll have to stick around if you want to find out.”

The way he said it made your stomach do a little flip. You looked away quickly, pretending to be very interested in the milkshake again, but you could feel his gaze lingering on you. He looked… happy. Like getting you to laugh, even just a little, had made his entire day.

However, the peaceful moment didn’t last long.

A loud metallic bang suddenly echoed from behind the gym, startling both of you. Choco hissed and bolted off the bench, disappearing into the bushes. You and Juhoon turned toward the noise at the same time.

Your stomach dropped.

Hyoman and his three friends emerged from the corner, smirking like they’d just found their favorite prey. The same guy who had cut your face last time was grinning wide, twirling a small knife between his fingers.

“Look what we have here,” Hyoman drawled, tilting his head. “The murderer… cozying up with the quiet kid”

“So he was lying that day in the art room,” the knife guy added with a nasty smirk. “Guess she’s got one protector now”

You glanced at Juhoon. His jaw was clenched, and though he tried to hide it, you could see the nervousness in his eyes. Still, he stood up first, stepping in front of you protectively.

“Leave us alone,” Juhoon said firmly, his voice steady despite the situation.

“Juhoon—” You grabbed the back of his shirt, heart racing.

“Aww, look at him protecting his girl,” one of the guys mocked, laughing. He stepped closer, cracking his knuckles. “How touching.”

“Move if you don’t want to get hurt,” the knife guy warned Juhoon, eyes dark. When he didn’t budge, he grabbed Juhoon by the collar and threw him to the side. Juhoon crashed hard into the ground with a pained grunt.

“Juhoon!” you screamed.

You tried to run to him, but the broad guy immediately blocked your path. Rage and fear boiled over. You snatched the half-full strawberry milkshake cup from the bench and slammed it straight into his face with all your strength.

“Bitch—!” he roared, stumbling back as sticky liquid splashed everywhere.

You didn’t waste the opening. You grabbed his arm, twisted it sharply behind his back, and yanked hard, just like you’d practiced with your old friend suho. He howled in pain.

But before you could do more, another pair of hands grabbed you roughly from behind. He fisted your hair and yanked your head back painfully. You hissed, kicking and struggling, but his grip was tight.

“Still got that nasty attitude, huh?” he growled into your ear, breath hot and disgusting. “Let’s fix that pretty face again.”

Your eyes darted desperately toward Juhoon, who was already pushing himself up off the ground, blood trickling from a fresh cut on his lip, eyes burning with anger.

You twisted and struggled, but the two guys easily overpowered you. With a harsh shove, they slammed you down onto the ground. Gravel and dirt scraped painfully against your cheek as one of them pinned your shoulders down with his full weight.

“Fuck— get off me!” you yelled, thrashing wildly beneath him.

On the side, Hyoman leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching the whole scene with a sick, amused smirk like he was enjoying a show.

Juhoon, who had just pushed himself up from the ground, froze for a split second. Pure rage flooded his usually calm eyes as he watched them pin you down. His gaze darted frantically around the area until it landed on an empty glass bottle near the trash bins.

Without hesitation, he snatched it up.

You kept fighting, kicking your legs desperately, but the guy on top of you only laughed. The knife-wielding bastard crouched beside your face, slowly dragging the cold blade across your cheek — not cutting you yet, just teasing.

“Should I give you a matching scar?” he whispered, voice low and venomous. “Make it look symmetrical this time…”

A shiver of real fear ran down your spine. You tried not to show it, but your breathing became ragged. You kicked harder, snarling, “Don’t you fucking dare—”

“Relax, darling,” he cooed, pressing the blade lightly against your skin. “It won’t hurt for long—”

A sickening crack cut him off.

The guy let out a pained groan and collapsed sideways onto the ground, shards of glass scattering around him. You looked up, breathing hard.

Juhoon stood there, chest heaving, the broken remains of the bottle still clenched tightly in his hand. His knuckles were white. A few drops of blood ran down his fingers.

“Ju—!” you started, relief flashing through you.

But before you could finish, Hyoman moved like lightning. He kicked Juhoon hard in the stomach, sending him crashing backward into the wall with a heavy thud. Juhoon gasped, curling in on himself as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

At the same time, the broad-shouldered guy tackled you again, slamming your back against the ground. Pain exploded across your spine. He grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head, his face twisted with anger.

“You little bitch,” he growled, face inches from yours. “You’re gonna regret that.”

Your eyes darted desperately toward Juhoon, who was struggling to get up, one arm wrapped around his stomach. Blood was dripping from his hand where the broken glass had cut him.

No… not him too.

You couldn’t let it happen again. You couldn’t watch another person get hurt because of you. The memory of Suho flashed violently through your mind.

Suho…I’m sorry. Im getting into another fight..im sorry.

Your hand moved on instinct. You yanked the metal hairclip from your hair and stabbed it hard into the arm of the guy pinning you down — once, twice, three times. He screamed in pain, grip loosening immediately. You shoved him off with all your strength, and he collapsed to the ground, writhing and clutching his bleeding arm.

The other guy was still down, groaning from the glass shards embedded in his side.

Breathing heavily, you turned toward Hyoman. For the first time, real fear flickered across his face as he slowly backed away.

“Fine you win,” he stammered, hands raised. “Just let me go.”

“You wanted this,” you growled, stepping forward and grabbing his collar roughly. “You asked for it.”

“Please—” His voice cracked. “Ill just leave you alone—”

You didn’t listen. You pulled your fist back and punched him square in the face, just like he had done to Juhoon. The impact sent him staggering backward before he crumpled to the ground with a pained grunt. Your knuckles throbbed. Your shoulder burned. Every muscle screamed from the struggle. But none of that mattered.

A soft groan pulled your attention.

“Juhoon!”

You spun around and rushed to him, ignoring the sharp pain shooting through your body. He was leaning heavily against the wall, face pale, breathing shallow. Blood dripped steadily from the deep cuts on his hand where he’d smashed the bottle.

“Shit… Juhoon, I’m so sorry—” Your voice cracked as you reached him. You gently slipped one arm under his, supporting most of his weight. “Your bleeding… We need to get you to the infirmary right now.”

“It’s… it’s fine,” he murmured weakly, trying to straighten up. “I’ll be okay. You’re hurt too—”

“Shut up,” you cut him off, voice trembling with guilt and leftover adrenaline. “This is all my fault. If I hadn’t—”

Juhoon leaned more of his weight on you, his uninjured hand lightly gripping your shoulder for support. His dark eyes met yours, tired but still soft.

“You protected me,” he whispered, a faint, pained smile tugging at his bloody lip. “I should be thanking you.”

Tears stung the corners of your eyes. You quickly looked away, focusing on helping him walk. Nothing else mattered right now more than Juhoon.

.

.

“Does it hurt…?” you asked softly, carefully wrapping the bandage around his injured hand. Your fingers were gentle, but every small movement still made him tense.

Juhoon made a brief face, lips pressing into a thin line, before quickly smoothing it back into his usual poker face. “Not at all.”

“Liar,” you muttered, shooting him a glare as you secured the last part of the bandage. “You’re terrible at hiding pain.”

You finished tying the bandage and were about to pull away when your eyes drifted to his bruised lip. The dried blood there looked painful, split and swollen. A fresh wave of guilt twisted in your chest.

“What’s wrong?” Juhoon asked, noticing how you’d gone still.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you stood up and started rummaging through the nurse’s drawers. After a few seconds, your face lit up when you found the ointment that you were looking for.

“Sit still,” you told him, returning to stand between his legs.

Surprisingly, Juhoon obeyed without protest, looking up at you like a quiet puppy. You gently tilted his chin up with your fingers and dabbed a cotton pad on the cut first, cleaning away the dried blood. Then you squeezed a small amount of ointment onto your fingertip and began applying it with feather-light touches.

Juhoon winced slightly at first, but quickly relaxed. While you focused on treating him, his dark eyes betrayed him. They kept drifting from your focused eyes, down to your lips, then to the small cut on your own cheek, and back to your lips again. His gaze lingered longer each time.

You finished applying the ointment and started to pull back, but Juhoon’s hand suddenly moved. He gently caught your wrist, his touch warm and hesitant, pulling you just a little closer.

“Juhoon… what—” you started, breath catching.

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he took the tube of ointment from your hand. With the same gentleness you had shown him, he dabbed some onto his finger and reached up to apply it to the shallow cut on your cheek. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin as he spread the cream, sending tiny sparks through you. His eyes met yours again, this time without looking away. The air between you thickened with unspoken tension. His gaze dropped to your lips once more, staying there longer than before.

“Thanks for saving me...i hope you're okay too,” he whispered, voice low.

Your heart raced wildly as Juhoon’s thumb gently stroked the area just below the cut on your cheek.

You could only manage a small smile, too flustered to speak properly. It was meant to reassure him that you were fine, but your trembling hand probably gave you away.

Juhoon didn’t smile. Instead, he slowly leaned in closer. The distance between you shrank until you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against your lips. Your heart skipped hard, then hammered even faster. The infirmary suddenly felt too quiet, too small, too warm.

“Juhoon…” you whispered, barely audible.

He stopped just inches away, eyes half-lidded, gaze dropping to your lips. The world seemed to freeze.Your lips parted, but no words came out.Before you could answer you both heard a loud bang.

“I HEARD YOU GOT INTO A FIGHT, JU—!”

Martin burst through the door like a hurricane, voice loud and frantic. He froze mid-step the second he saw the two of you, Juhoon’s hand was still gently cupping your cheek.

“...Oh.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Martin’s eyes widened as he took in the scene. “Wait— what the hell?!”

Juhoon slowly pulled back, but not before shooting his best friend a sharp, annoyed glare. His ears had turned bright red. You, on the other hand, felt like your entire face was on fire as you stepped back quickly, heart still pounding.

“Nothing… She saved me,” Juhoon said quietly as he walked over to Martin.

Martin’s eyes widened in disbelief. He immediately started fussing over his friend — grabbing Juhoon’s chin to inspect the bruised lip, then checking the freshly bandaged hand.

“You’re such an idiot, dude!” he scolded, smacking the back of Juhoon’s neck. “What the hell were you thinking, going up against Hyoman’s whole crew? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Juhoon winced at the smack but let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by Martin’s over-the-top reaction. He rubbed the back of his neck with a small, pained smile.

Martin’s gaze then shifted to you. His expression was a mix of gratitude and lingering suspicion. He was clearly upset that Juhoon had gotten dragged into your mess, yet he couldn’t fully ignore that you’d helped his bestfriend.

“Since when did you two become so close?” Martin asked, his tone cautious.

“We aren’t—” you started quickly, cheeks heating up.

“Sometime back,” Juhoon cut you off smoothly.

“I see…” Martin muttered, eyeing you with clear suspicion. The awkward tension in the room grew thicker.

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, Martin tried to lighten the mood. “Anyway… after school, kebab?”

“Again?” Juhoon side-eyed him.

“Pleaseee,” Martin begged, clasping his hands together dramatically. “I’ve been craving it all week.”

You stood there awkwardly, feeling completely out of place. You quietly picked up your bag, ready to slip out of the infirmary, when Juhoon’s voice stopped you.

“Y/n, come too.”

Martin immediately protested, “Hey, you can’t just—”

“Ow!” Martin clutched his shoulder where Juhoon had sharply jabbed him to shut up.

You hesitated at the door. “I’ll pass.”

Juhoon looked at you, a shy but sincere expression softening his usual poker face. He scratched the side of his neck awkwardly. “Come,” he said, voice quieter now. “I want to treat you… for saving me.”

He gave Martin a hopeful look.

Martin sighed dramatically, rubbing the spot where Juhoon had jabbed him. After a few seconds, he scratched the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. “Yeah… I wouldn’t mind having you there either,” he admitted, though it sounded slightly forced. “If you want to come, that is.”

You stood frozen, caught off guard by both of their sudden invitations. Juhoon’s soft, hopeful eyes were fixed on you, while Martin tried (and failed) to hide his reluctance behind an awkward smile.

“I’ll come,” you said after a long pause.

And just like that, everything began to change.

Since that day, you slowly started hanging out with Juhoon and Martin more often. The kebab outing turned out surprisingly fun. Martin, who had once looked at you with suspicion, gradually warmed up. He still teased you sometimes, but there was no longer any real hostility behind it.

One afternoon, you ended up taking them to the hospital where Suho had been staying for months. The sterile smell of the corridor hit you hard the moment you stepped inside. When you saw Suho lying unconscious in the hospital bed, tubes connected to his body, something inside you shattered. You broke down completely in front of them.

Juhoon didn’t say anything. He simply pulled you into his arms, letting you cry against his chest while gently rubbing your back. Martin stood awkwardly nearby, but his presence was comforting too. That day, something shifted between you and Juhoon. The walls you had built around yourself started cracking, and he slipped through them.

From then on, the two of you grew even closer.

Juhoon’s care was never loud or obvious. It was in the small things like leaving a strawberry milkshake on your desk when he knew you’d had a rough morning, walking on the side closer to the road when you were together, or silently standing up for you whenever people whispered rumors behind your back.

He never hesitated to defend you. Even when it got him hurt and you hated it. Every single time. It reminded you too much of Suho. The fear that Juhoon would suffer the same fate haunted you constantly.

“Juhoon, just stay quiet next time,” you’d beg him after every incident. “Please. I don’t want you getting hurt because of me.”

But Juhoon was stubborn. He would only give you that soft, determined look and say, “I can’t.”

One day, it went too far.

You found him after school near the back staircase, leaning against the wall with a fresh bruise blooming across his cheek and bloody knuckles. His lip was split again. When he saw you, he tried to smile like nothing was wrong, but the pain was clear in his eyes.

A knot in your chest twisted painfully.

“Juhoon, I’ve told you so many times!!” you shouted, voice echoing down the empty staircase. Your hands were trembling at your sides as you stared at the fresh bruise blooming across his cheek and the bloody knuckles on his hand.

Juhoon stepped closer, his expression soft despite the pain etched on his face. “Relax… it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not fine, Juhoon!” Your voice cracked with panic and frustration. “You’re hurt again! Why do you keep doing this?!”

He reached out, gently placing his hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. But you brushed it off sharply, stepping back.

“I’m sorry y/n…” he whispered, eyes filled with guilt.

“Sorry doesn’t fix anything!” Tears stung your eyes, blurring your vision. You tried to hold them back, but they spilled over anyway, hot and angry. “You know what happened with Suho… I can’t— I won’t watch the same thing happen to you”

Juhoon’s expression softened on hearing that. He looked like he wanted to pull you into his arms, but he held himself back, respecting the space you’d created.

“I know you’re scared,” he said. “But I can’t just stand by and let them talk about you like that. I can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me.”

You shook your head, wiping your tears roughly with the back of your hand. “Then be selfish for once! Stay away. Please, Juhoon… I’m begging you.”

The silence that followed was heavy. He looked truly conflicted between his feelings for you and the fear he was causing you.

“I can’t…” Juhoon replied, his voice cracking with quiet desperation. He stepped closer and gently cupped your face with both hands, his thumbs carefully wiping away the fresh tears that kept slipping down your cheeks. His touch was warm, trembling slightly, like he was afraid you might leave him.

“Why can’t you?” you choked out, your voice breaking even more. The tears wouldn’t stop now. “Why do you keep putting yourself in danger for me?!”

Juhoon didn’t answer right away, just stared at you. Deep down, he knew exactly why. He had liked you since the day you joined. Those feelings had only grown stronger with every passing day but he never confessed. How could he? You were still grieving Suho. He didn’t want to be another burden. He didn’t want to scare you away.

What he didn’t know was that your feelings for him ran much deeper than what you’d ever felt for Suho. Suho had been your best friend, someone you loved like family. But Juhoon… Juhoon made your heart race in a completely different way. That was exactly why losing him terrified you more than anything.

“Say something, Juhoon…” you whispered, your voice barely holding together as you locked eyes with him.

He swallowed hard, thumbs still gently brushing your wet cheeks.

“It’s complicated,” he said softly.

“What is complicated, Juhoon?!” you yelled, frustration and fear exploding out of you. “Just say it! Why can’t you stay away?! Why do you keep getting hurt for someone like me?!”.

His gaze dropped to your lips for a brief second before returning to your tear-filled eyes.

“What if I said something crazy…” Juhoon’s voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible. His thumbs stilled on your cheeks. “Like… I liked you?”

The words hung in the air between you. The second they left his mouth, regret flashed across his face. His eyes widened slightly, like he couldn’t believe he’d actually said it out loud.

“I mean— it’s not like like that,” he rushed out, voice stumbling over itself. “It was just a what if. Not real. I was just saying it hypothetically, you know? Because you kept asking and I didn’t know how to explain—”

Your heart beat increased. The guy you had slowly, terrifyingly fallen for had just confessed. And now he was desperately trying to take it back.

“Juhoon—” you tried to speak, but your voice came out shaky.

He didn’t hear you. Or maybe he was too scared to stop. He stepped back, dropping his hands from your face. His ears were bright red as he continued rambling, avoiding your eyes completely.

“I didn’t mean to make it weird. You’re already dealing with so much and I know Suho was important to you and I’m probably just complicating everything and—”

“Juhoon,” you said again, louder this time.

He finally stopped talking, breathing hard as he stared at the floor.

“You’re unbelievable…” you scoffed softly, a mix of disbelief and warmth flooding your chest as you stared at him.

Juhoon looked puzzled, his bruised cheek making the expression almost endearing. You took a shaky breath, heart beating so hard you could feel it. Before you could overthink it, the words spilled out:

“What if I said something crazy too?” Your voice trembled. “Like… I like you, Juhoon.”

The moment the words left your mouth, Juhoon’s eyes widened. His legs literally gave out beneath him. He dropped straight down to the floor, back pressed against the wall. He didn’t say anything. He just stared up at you, completely frozen, like he couldn’t process what he’d just heard.

Your concern spiked instantly. “Juhoon?!” You dropped to your knees beside him, hands reaching out to steady him. “Are you okay?! We should get those wounds treated again— your cheek, your—”

You tried to help him stand, grabbing his arm in a panic, but Juhoon gently shook his head. He pushed himself up slowly, using the wall for support, though his legs still looked unsteady.

“I’m okay…” he murmured, voice hoarse. “I just… wasn’t expecting that.”

“Expecting what?” you asked innocently, tilting your head with a small, shy smile.

Juhoon’s voice got stuck in his throat. He stared at you, completely speechless for a moment. His ears and cheeks burned bright red as he struggled to form words.

“Uh…” He looked away quickly, trying to hide his flushed face, but you gently caught his chin and pulled him back toward you.

“Shit … that looks so bad,” you whispered, eyes softening as you traced your gaze over the ugly bruise on his cheek.

Juhoon stayed quiet, doing his best to keep his composure while your fingers were so close to his face. His heart was clearly racing.

.

.

Later, the two of you escaped to your secret spot behind the old gym. This quiet little corner no longer belonged to just you. Martin sometimes joined, but now it was only you and Juhoon.

You were sitting side by side on the old wooden bench. Choco had claimed Juhoon’s lap as her personal throne again, purring loudly as she curled up against him. You focused on gently applying bruise cream to his cheek.

But Juhoon wasn’t making it easy.

He kept staring at you intensely. The tension in the air grew thicker with every passing second.

You tried to ignore the way your own heart was fluttering.

Suddenly, Juhoon shifted. His hand moved fast, gently wrapping around your wrist, stopping your movements. The motion startled Choco, who let out a small meow and jumped off his lap, disappearing into the nearby bushes.

“Choco– Juhoon–” you started, turning your head to look at him.Before you could finish, Juhoon leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

The kiss was softer than you expected. His uninjured hand came up to cradle the side of your neck, thumb brushing lightly against your jaw. The world around you faded away. There was only the gentle press of his lips, the warmth of his skin, and the way your heart felt like it might burst.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing softly. A shy, almost disbelieving smile played on his lips.

“I’ve been wanting to do that” he admitted quietly, voice barely above a whisper.

You let out a breathless little laugh, cheeks burning as you rested your hands on his chest. “You could’ve warned me….”

Juhoon’s smile widened, his thumb still gently stroking your jaw. “Sorry,” he murmured, though he didn’t sound sorry at all. “Couldn’t wait anymore”

“So… are we…?” Juhoon asked softly, his voice hesitant but hopeful as he looked at you. His cheeks were still slightly flushed from the kiss.

You nodded, a shy smile spreading across your face. But before he could say anything else, you quickly added, “This doesn’t mean you get to jump into more fights now. You have to promise me first.”

Juhoon let out a long, dramatic sigh, but his eyes were warm with affection. “Okay, darling.”

Your face instantly burned bright red at the nickname. “Darling?!” You smacked him square in the chest, though there was no real force behind it.

“Ow—” Juhoon fake-cried, clutching his chest like you’d wounded him gravely. The playful grin on his face completely ruined the act.

“Deserved,” you shot back, trying to hide your smile. “That’s for scaring Choco away earlier.”

Just then, soft meowing and approaching footsteps interrupted the moment. You both turned to see Martin walking toward you, cradling a very content Choco in his arms.

“I was coming here to find you guys when this little one came running up to me,” Martin said, gently scratching behind Choco’s ears.

“Aww, Choco, come here~” You reached out and took her from him. The cat immediately started purring loudly in your lap, clearly happy to be back with her favorite people.

While you were busy cuddling Choco, Juhoon suddenly grabbed Martin by the sleeve and pulled him a few steps away. He leaned in and whispered something quickly in his friend’s ear. Martin’s eyes widened dramatically. A second later, he let out a loud, excited scream.

“OH MY GOD— YOU GUYS ARE TOGETHER?!?!” He pointed between you and Juhoon, mouth hanging open. “Juhoon actually got a girlfriend before me?! This is not fair! I’ve been single since birth and you just casually pulled this off?!”

Juhoon rubbed the back of his neck, looking equal parts embarrassed and amused. “Martin, calm down—”

“No! This is huge!” Martin dramatically clutched his chest. “I need details. When? How? Did you finally stop being a coward and confess? And you—” he turned to you with a playful grin, “—you actually said yes to this idiot?”

You buried your face slightly in Choco’s fur, laughing softly as your cheeks stayed warm. Juhoon just shook his head, but the soft, happy smile on his face didn’t fade.

Just then, your phone started ringing loudly, cutting through the peaceful moment. You glanced at the screen and your face immediately dropped. Both Martin and Juhoon noticed the sudden shift in your expression.

It was the hospital.

Your hands began to shake as you answered the call, pressing the phone tightly to your ear. “Hello…?”

The voice on the other end spoke. With every word, your eyes slowly widened. Your breath caught in your throat. No way..You hung up the call with trembling fingers.

Juhoon immediately rushed forward and knelt down in front of you, worry etched deeply into his features. “What happened?” he asked urgently, gently cupping your face with both hands.

“Suho…” your voice shook in disbelief.

Juhoon’s face fell, his heart clearly sinking as he prepared for bad news. Martin, who had been playfully teasing just seconds ago, also went completely still, his usual bright energy vanishing as he watched you anxiously.

“He’s awake…” you whispered, a tear rolled down your face “He’s out of his coma, Juhoon. Suho’s awake…”

For a moment, pure silence hung in the air. Then, overwhelming relief crashed over you. A shaky, tearful smile broke across your lips even as you continued crying. “I’m so happy right now… I can’t believe it.”

Juhoon’s eyes softened with a mixture of relief. Without a second thought, he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in a tight, protective hug. He held you close against his chest, one hand gently cradling the back of your head while the other rubbed soothing circles on your back.

“That’s amazing,” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with genuine happiness for you. “I’m so glad. You’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

Martin stood there for a second, processing everything, before a wide, relieved grin spread across his face. “Holy shit— he’s really awake?!” He let out a loud, joyful laugh and ruffled your hair affectionately. “That’s the best news ever! Suho’s a fighter, just like you said.”

You buried your face deeper into Juhoon’s shoulder, crying and laughing at the same time. The relief was so intense it almost hurt. All those months of guilt, fear, and waiting had finally paid off.

Juhoon didn’t let go. He held you even tighter, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay to cry,” he murmured gently. “I’m right here.”

Martin crouched down beside the two of you, still smiling brightly but now more softly. “We should go visit him soon. All three of us. I’ll even bring the kebabs this time.”

“Enough with the kebabs, Martin,” Juhoon whined, burying his face in your shoulder dramatically.

“HEY! He will like it!” Martin protested loudly. “Kebabs are a celebration food!”

You burst out laughing, the sound bright and full of relief. The joy bubbling inside you felt almost overwhelming...This all felt like a dream.

You slowly pulled back from Juhoon’s hug and looked up at him. His eyes were soft, filled with quiet happiness for you. He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. Then he carefully tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Let’s go when you’re ready,” he said softly. “There’s no rush.”

Click.

“Suho’s gonna love this,” Martin grinned, holding up his phone as he snapped another photo of the two of you.

“Martin!” you yelped, standing up with Juhoon. You tried to whack his arm, but he dodged away laughing.

“Yah! I look ugly right now, delete that! I’ll actually beat you up, stop!” you complained, chasing after him while still laughing.

“Okay, okay!” Martin surrendered, backing away with his hands up, though he was still grinning like an idiot. “But I’m keeping at least one. Memories, you know?”

You shook your head, still smiling as you returned to Juhoon’s side. He slipped his arm around your waist and pulled you close, pressing another soft kiss to your temple.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was falling into place. Suho was awake. You had friends who teased you, supported you, and stood by you. And you had Juhoon, a caring boy who refused to leave your side no matter what.

You looked up at him, heart full. “Thank you… for everything.”

Juhoon just smiled and rested his forehead against yours. “We’re in this together now.”

In the background, Martin was already planning the surprise visit menu out loud, Choco had returned to her spot on the bench, and the golden afternoon light filtered gently through the leaves.

[honeyscara]

Chapter 5

~summer

The start | prev | next

~four days later~

The boys had a long recording session scheduled and wouldn’t be back until late evening, so you decided to treat yourself to a proper solo date. Juhoon and Martin had given you a list of their favorite cafés nearby, along with directions to a cute shopping district not too far away. You spent the morning wandering through cozy bookstores and aesthetic cafés, sipping on perfectly brewed lattes and trying on new clothes. It was genuinely fun. But every now and then, a quiet thought crept in: james

Since the awkward kitchen incident four nights ago, James had been keeping a careful, respectful distance. You knew exactly why. Martin had pulled you aside the next morning for a serious talk too, reminding you that you were still healing and that getting involved with one of his members right now would only complicate things.

You had nodded and agreed, even though a small part of you didn’t want to keep that distance. Being around James felt good. He made you feel seen and cared for in a way that felt warm and safe. Maybe you had started developing real feelings for him. The thought both excited and terrified you.

But you quickly brushed it away. It wouldn’t work. James was an idol and your brother’s teammate. Getting involved would be messy, complicated, and probably wrong. So you pushed those fluttering feelings down and focused on enjoying your day alone.

By evening, the sky had turned a soft golden hue. You’d bought a few small things — a cute keychain, a new notebook, and a soft sweater that reminded you of lara jean. Feeling content but a little tired, you decided it was time to head back.

You were almost at the apartment when you noticed two figures standing outside the main door. At first, you thought they might be delivery people or lost tourists. Then they turned around.

Your stomach dropped like you’d been punched in the gut. There, waiting right in front of the entrance, were Siwoo and Suhyeon. The peaceful day you’d built for yourself shattered in an instant. All the progress you thought you’d made over the past days suddenly felt paper-thin. You stopped several feet away, gripping the handles of your shopping bags tighter.

“What… are you two doing here?” you asked, voice sharper than you intended as you approached them slowly. Siwoo took a cautious step forward, hands raised slightly in surrender. “We need to talk, y/n.. Please...”

“No—” you started, but Suhyeon cut you off, her voice trembling.

“Y/n, please… I miss you. I feel really awful about everything.”

The words hit like a slap. You stared at your former best friend, the girl who had once known all your secrets, the one who had betrayed you in the worst possible way.

“No, you don’t,” you snapped, anger and hurt twisting together in your chest. “Just stop talking.”

Siwoo tried again, his tone softer but insistent. “Can we talk inside? Please?”

You shook your head firmly. A voice screamed in the back of your head: Walk away.

Which is what you chose to do...You turned on your heel and started walking away. Your heart pounded in your ears as footsteps hurried behind you. You didn’t stop even when you heard suhyeon run after you. You turned the corner sharply, weaving through the evening crowd until her voice faded behind you. Only when you were sure you’d lost them did you slow down, breathing hard, chest tight with emotions you thought you’d buried.

Your feet carried you without thinking. A few blocks later, you found yourself standing in front of a small, quiet bar with warm lighting spilling onto the sidewalk. You stared at the entrance for a long moment. You didn’t have a choice tonight. You needed something to dull the sharp ache in your chest.

Pushing the door open, you stepped inside. The low hum of conversation and soft music wrapped around you. You found a seat at the far end of the bar, placed your shopping bags on the floor, and pulled out your phone. Without hesitation, you switched it to silent mode and set it face-down on the counter.

The bartender approached with a polite smile. You ordered the first strong drink that came to mind and didn’t stop at one.

The alcohol burned going down, but it was a welcome distraction. Each sip pushed the image of Siwoo and Suhyeon further back, even if only temporarily. You stared into your glass, the noise of the bar blurring around you as memories you’d been trying to escape flooded in anyway.

After a few strong drinks, you felt like you were over the moon and definitely tipsy. You picked up your phone from the counter, the screen glowing too brightly in the dim lighting. There was a missed call from your mom. You ignored it; you didn’t have the energy to fake being okay right now. As you scrolled through the recent calls, one name made your thumb pause.

James.

Your chest tightened with a different kind of ache. You really wanted someone to talk to tonight. Suhyeon used to be that person — the one you could call at any hour, the one who knew exactly what to say. But she was gone now. You didn’t want to burden Martin either. He was already worried enough after that one night, playing the protective brother role. You couldn’t dump this on him again so soon. Your finger hovered over James’s name. Before you could overthink it, you tapped the call button and pressed the phone to your ear.

It rang once. Twice. Three times.

You were about to hang up, embarrassment creeping in, when the line clicked.

“Y/N?” James’s voice came through, warm and slightly surprised. “Hey… is everything okay?”

“…James” you whispered into the phone, voice small and unsteady. There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end.

“hello?! Are you okay? Are you in any trouble??” James’s voice instantly spiked with worry. “Where are you? Send me your location right now.”

You leaned heavier against the bar counter, the room tilting slightly. “It’s the small bar near Seolleung… a few blocks away from my house,” you said softly.

“Just stay there, okay? Don’t move. I’m coming,” James said firmly before he hung up.

You let out a long, shaky sigh and set the phone down. What if this wasn’t a smart choice? Maybe you should’ve just gone straight home. You weren’t thinking clearly anymore as the alcohol was hitting you stronger with every passing minute.

You glanced around the bar in a daze. The crowd had thinned out significantly. Only a few people remained, and the servers kept glancing your way — probably wondering if you were going to order another drink or finally leave. You checked your phone again. It was almost 11 p.m.

A few minutes later, the soft chime of the entrance bell rang through the quiet space.

You looked up.

Even with a black mask pulled up high and a cap pulled low, you recognized him instantly. Relief flooded through you so fast that a small, tipsy smile broke across your face. You stood up a little too quickly, the room swaying as your balance faltered.

“Jami…” you mumbled, reaching out to steady yourself.

James moved fast, crossing the distance in a few strides. His strong hands gently caught your arms, holding you upright before you could wobble any further.

“Gosh, what the hell happened?” he asked, voice low and laced with surprise and concern. His eyes scanned your face over the mask, taking in your flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.

“Too many drinks…” you admitted with a soft, sheepish laugh.

James let out a breath, shaking his head. Without another word, he helped gather your shopping bags, slinging them over his shoulder. When the bartender brought the bill, James paid for everything despite your weak protests.

“Come on,” he said gently, keeping one hand lightly on your lower back to steady you as you both walked out of the bar and into the cool night air.

The moment the door closed behind you, James turned to face you, mask still on but eyes visibly worried. “Y/N… why the hell—”

“You came,” you interrupted softly, looking up at him with a small, genuine smile. The alcohol made your words come out softer and more honest than usual.

James paused, his expression softening behind the mask. He rubbed the back of his neck, a little flustered. “Well, of course I did. I was shit scared when you called. You sounded not okay.”

He gently guided you toward the sidewalk, keeping his pace slow so you could walk steadily beside him.

“I should probably call Martin,” James said quietly, already reaching for his phone.

You stopped walking abruptly, the world tilting a little from the alcohol. “Wait… no,” you slurred softly. “I don’t want him to see me like this.”

James hesitated, concern clear in his eyes even behind the mask. “I have to let him know you’re safe—”

“No,” you whined, voice small and pleading. Without thinking, the words slipped out: “I want to talk to you.”

The confession hung in the cool night air. James looked at you for a long second, clearly conflicted, but something in your hazy, earnest eyes made him sigh softly and put his phone away.

You wobbled over to a wooden bench just a few steps away and plopped down. James followed, sitting carefully next to you. The bench was small enough that your shoulders almost brushed.

“You can be quite stubborn,” he murmured with a gentle smile, his voice low and fond.

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment, broken only by the distant noise of vehicles. Then you turned your head toward him, the alcohol making your thoughts spill out freely.

“Yufan…”

James’s head snapped toward you, surprise flickering across his face. Hearing his real name from your lips sounded softer, sweeter than he expected.

You chuckled quietly, staring off into the distance with a little smile. “I just remembered that’s your real name… It’s kinda better than James.”

James stayed quiet. You turned to look at him fully now, the streetlight catching on his eyes.

“Zhao Yufan,” you said again, softer this time, like you were testing how the name felt on your tongue.

This time, James instantly looked away, his fingers tightening slightly on the edge of the bench. His heart skipped a beat...the way you said it, all tipsy and sincere, made something warm and fluttery bloom inside him. He wasn’t used to hearing his real name like that. Especially not from you.

He cleared his throat gently, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re really drunk, huh?”

You hummed in agreement, leaning your head back against the bench and closing your eyes for a few minutes. The cool night breeze brushed against your flushed cheeks. “I wish you werent an idol.”

“Why do you wish I weren’t an idol?”James asked

You opened your eyes slowly, still leaning your head back against the bench as you gazed up at the dark sky scattered with faint stars.

“I also wish you weren’t in Martin’s group,” you murmured honestly.

James shifted slightly beside you. “Why?”

You turned your head to look at him, giving him a soft, tipsy ‘are you really kidding me’ look. The alcohol had loosened your tongue, but the feelings behind the words had been sitting in your chest for a while.

“i can’t be with you,” you said simply, the truth slipping out easily because of the alcohol.

James stayed quiet for a long moment. The silence stretched between you two. A tiny seed of doubt bloomed— what if he didn’t feel the same? What if you had just ruined everything by being honest?

“…You’re not thinking straight,” he finally said, his voice incredibly soft, almost tender.

For a second, your heart dropped. But when you glanced at him, you found James already looking at you. His eyes shined under the streetlight, the mask still hiding half his face, yet you could see the conflict in his gaze.

“Y/n…” he started, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words seemed to fade as you leaned closer.

Your fingers reached up slowly, hesitantly, and gently tugged his mask down below his chin, revealing the full softness of his lips and the sharp line of his jaw. The cool night air brushed against his skin, but neither of you moved away.

“I want to kiss you so bad, Zhao Yufan,” you whispered, the words honest and raw.

You stared at him, your gaze drifting from his eyes down to his lips, then slowly back up again. His breath hitched softly at the sound of his real name on your lips once more, and you watched as his eyes darkened.

James didn’t pull back. Instead, he stayed perfectly still, letting you linger close. His hand rested lightly on the bench between you, fingers twitching as if fighting the urge to reach for you. The tension was sweet, fluttering, and almost unbearable in the best way. The ache of your past, Martin’s warnings, and the complications of his idol life...all of it melted away. James’s voice came out even strained than before, “You’re making this really hard for me…”

His eyes dropped to your lips for a moment, then lifted back to yours, full of longing and careful restraint. James wanted to kiss you so badly it almost hurt.

Every part of him leaned toward you — the way your eyes kept drifting to his lips, the soft way you said his real name, the warm haze of alcohol making you look even more beautiful under the streetlights.

But he couldn’t. Not like this. Not when you were tipsy and vulnerable. You might wake up tomorrow with regret, and he would never forgive himself for taking advantage of that moment. So, with every ounce of willpower he had, James gently pulled back.

“I’m gonna call Martin,” he said quietly. His voice still carried a faint shake from the way your words had wrapped around his heart.

You felt a small pang of disappointment settle in your chest. The warmth that had been building between you cooled slightly as you shifted away on the bench, creating a little more distance. You hugged yourself as the cool night air hit you.

James took out his phone with slightly unsteady fingers and dialed Martin’s number.Martin picked up on the first ring, his voice already laced with panic.

“Y/N’s not picking up! Mom just called me — she’s worried sick. And where the hell are you?!”

James winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “She’s with me… Don’t worry.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before Martin exploded.

“WHAT THE ACTUAL— WHY THE HELL IS SHE WITH YOU?! You promised me, hyung!”

James quickly cut in, keeping his tone calm but firm. “It’s a long story… I’ll explain everything later. Just come to the location I’m sending you right now.”

Before Martin could shout anything else, James hung up and sent the pin to their location. He let out a heavy sigh, slipping the phone back into his pocket. James glanced at you, noticing the way you had curled in on yourself a little. His expression softened with regret and lingering affection.

“Hey…” he said gently

You didn’t answer, still feeling the sting of the moment mixed with the fuzzy warmth of the alcohol. James hesitated, then slowly reached out and placed his jacket over your shoulders, the fabric carrying his familiar scent.

“Martin will be here soon,” he added softly, though part of him wished he could stay in this quiet bubble with you just a little longer.

Taglist: @certif1ed-girlfailure @slvdsjjk @basicbitchthingsstuff @hyuneskkami @rmdarealgoat @dhritiheehee @ariasoutthebag

[honeyscara]

Chapter 4

~summer

the start | prev | next

Martin really wasn’t kidding when he said he’d make this the best summer ever. One week just.… flew by.

Every single day there was something like gaming, random cafe, just walking around with no plan, sitting around talking till way too late. Even with their hectic schedules, Martin somehow always made time for you. Sometimes it was just you and him, but a lot of the time the boys would come along too… or you’d end up at their dorm, staying there till late at night.

And somewhere in between all of that… you and James got closer.

You didn’t really notice when it started happening. You just started sitting next to each other more. Talking more. And there was this weird tension between the two of you. You couldn’t explain it and it wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t nothing either.

Like when both of you reached for the same packet of chips, your fingers brushing and neither of you pulling away immediately.

“…you take it,” you’d mumble, even though you didn’t really want to. James would just huff quietly and push it toward you anyway. “You reached for it first ”

Or when you were sitting on the couch, your knee pressed against his and neither of you moved, even though there was more than enough space.

Once, you leaned forward to grab the remote, and when you sat back, you didn’t realise how close you were until you turned your head slightly—and he was already looking at you. For a second, neither of you said anything. “…what?” you asked, trying to sound normal. “Nothing,” he said quickly, looking away. But he didn’t move either.

You didn’t know why it felt like that. Maybe it was because of Siwoo. Maybe you were just trying to fill that empty space without realising. So you pushed it aside and focused on other things. James didn’t say anything about it either. But he was always there. Watching out for you in small ways you didn’t always. His eyes always seemed to find you, even in a room full of people.

Laslty things with Suhyeon were… over.

At first, you ignored her calls. Let them ring again and again. But one day, while you were sitting next to Martin, your phone lit up—her name flashing for what felt like the hundredth time. Martin glanced at it, then at you. “…you gonna answer that?” You shook your head.

The phone kept ringing.

He sighed, then took it from your hand. “Yeah, no. This is getting annoying.” Before you could react, he blocked her number.

“Martin—”

“No,” he said, handing your phone back. “She doesn’t get to keep doing this. Not after everything.”

You stared at the screen for a second… then just nodded. And honestly, it felt better.

Right now, you were back at the dorm with the boys. The lights were dim, an animated movie playing on the TV. It was your and James’ suggestion after a long argument.

“This better not be boring,” Seonghyeon had complained earlier.

“It won’t be,” you said.

James had just nodded beside you. “It’s good. Just watch guys”

You were sitting on the couch...right next to James.The movie played on, but your focus wasn’t really there anymore.

You were painfully aware of how close James was sitting next to you on the couch. His thigh brushed against yours every time he shifted, and his fingers occasionally grazed yours while reaching for the popcorn. Each light touch sent a spark through you. You wanted so badly to just slide your hand into his, but you couldn’t.You stole a quick glance at him.

Big mistake.

He looked unfairly good tonight— wearing a simple black sleeveless tank top that showed off his toned arms and shoulders, the muscles shifting subtly every time he moved. His glasses sat perfectly on his nose, giving him that handsome, slightly nerdy look that made your stomach flip.

The dim living room light caught on his skin, making him look even hotter Your heart raced. No way. You couldn’t handle this right now.Suddenly, you stood up. The movement was a little too abrupt, and all the boys turned their heads toward you.

“What’s wrong?” Juhoon asked, pausing the movie.

Your mind went blank. Panicking, your eyes darted around until they landed on the empty popcorn bowl sitting on the coffee table.

“The popcorn is over,” you blurted out, grabbing the bowl like it was a lifeline.

“Oh no…” Keonho gasped dramatically, staring at the empty bowl

“Don’t worry, I’ll get more,” you said quickly, already heading toward the kitchen.

Martin started to push himself up to help, but before he could fully stand, James rose smoothly from the couch.

“I’ll help her,” he said casually, already following behind you.

Martin narrowed his eyes slightly, watching the two of you disappear toward the kitchen with clear suspicion, but he eventually settled back down and unpaused the movie.

You almost speed-walked the short distance to the kitchen area. A half-wall divider blocked most of the view from the living room, giving you some privacy. Your heart was still racing as you opened cabinets, searching for the extra bag of popcorn. You spotted it on the top shelf which was way too high for you to reach comfortably.

You stretched up on your tiptoes, fingers barely brushing the edge of the bag, when you suddenly felt a warm presence right behind you.

“Let me help,” James said softly, his voice low and close.

You froze, then slowly turned around.

There he was looking devastatingly attractive. His eyes met yours, calm but intense, and for a moment the kitchen felt ten degrees warmer. Your breath caught in your throat.

James didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he paused after grabbing the bag, holding it in one hand while his other arm stayed braced on the shelf above you, caging you in without fully doing so. His eyes dropped to your face, lingering a little too long on your lips before meeting your gaze again. You opened your mouth to say something but a small, sharp gasp cut through the thick air between you and James. Both your heads snapped toward the sound.

Martin stood just a few steps away at the edge of the kitchen, eyes wide with a messy mix of shock, disbelief, and growing anger. His gaze flicked rapidly between you and James, taking in the way James was leaning over you, one arm still braced on the shelf above your head, the closeness far too intimate for “just helping”

“Martin—” you breathed, panic surging through you. You quickly pushed against James’s chest, creating distance, and stepped sideways.

“What the hell?!” Martin exclaimed, his voice low but sharp enough to carry the weight of his frustration.Your face burned with embarrassment. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you whole. “Martin, nothing happened,” you said quickly, voice higher than usual. “He was just helping me.That’s all.”

Before Martin could respond or ask anything else, you grabbed the empty bowl from the counter and dashed out of the kitchen, heart hammering wildly. You didn’t even look back as you hurried back toward the living room, cheeks flaming. That left James alone with Martin in the tense silence of the kitchen.

James cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He suddenly looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him too. “Soo…”

Martin crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. “What was that?”

“What was what?” James replied, trying to sound innocent, though the slight shift in his stance gave him away.

“You know damn well,” Martin said, stepping closer until he was right in front of James.

James exhaled slowly, glancing toward the living room where the movie sounds continued faintly. He adjusted his glasses, looking more flustered than usual. “It wasn’t like that.I was just—”

“Just what?” Martin cut in, not backing down. “Look, I respect you a lot. You’re my member, my friend. But....she just got out of a really messy breakup and i dont know..”

James turned to face him. “Are you worried I’d break her heart?”

“No, no—it’s not like that,” Martin said quickly, the words tumbling out like a waterfall. “It’s just… her too. I’m worried you both might get hurt. On top of that, we’re idols. She’s only here for a month and a half and I don’t want her to go through more pain. She’s my sister, hyung.”

James stayed quiet for a moment, his gaze dropped to the floor. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a slow breath.

“Martin… I was just trying to help” he said, his voice had softened a little. “I’m not going to start anything, dont worry”

Martin studied him carefully, searching for any crack in James’s composure. “Just…keep your distance”

James gave a small, understanding nod, though a flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. “I got it”

Martin let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “let’s get back before the others start asking questions…”

As they both turned to leave the kitchen, the tense atmosphere from earlier faded slowly.

Back in the living room, you deliberately chose to sit between Keonho and Juhoon this time. No matter how hard you tried to focus on the movie, your eyes kept drifting toward James. Every small movement he made pulled your attention like a magnet.

Shit… you were in so much trouble.

Taglist: @certif1ed-girlfailure @slvdsjjk @basicbitchthingsstuff @hyuneskkami @rmdarealgoat @dhritiheehee @ariasoutthebag

[honeyscara]

Hi I wanted request something if your not to busy luv. I kinda want an ot5 cortis x reader, similar to the one you wrote but I lowkey want a college au pls. You can do whatever you want from there pls. 😭🙏

I've been looking for ot5 cortis x reader and I can't find anything like:

Hii

Hell yeahh i would like to write one but is there any specific storyline that you would prefer?

[honeyscara]

hey so next part of summer when??😭😭😭😭😭

My exams just ended today so ill be posting more often now💃💃

I have so much in my drafts to post hehe😆😆

[honeyscara]

Stay away part 2 plsss 😭

Hii

yes I will be posting a part 2 soon

[honeyscara]

❝ Stay away ❞ – Kim Juhoon

~cortis

A/n's note: I wanted to experiment again so this fic might be a hit or a miss. Its inspired from weak hero class so for those who haven't seen it, beware of whc spoilers! Part 1(?)

Synopsis: there had been rumours going around about you. Some half true but mostly false. He should've stayed away from you but he was stubborn

Content: non-idol! juhoon x fem!reader, angst & fluff

Cw/Tw: bullying, physical violence, knife injury, forced alcohol consumption, underage drinking, mentions of death mild injury & lots of swearing

~4.5k words | part 2 | | cortis masterlist |

You’d heard the whispers ever since you transferred.

“Stay away from her.”

“She’s associated with the Yeongdeungpo Union.”

“I heard she killed her friend at her last school.”

“No way. A girl like her?”

“Isn’t she gonna drop out soon?”

You let the rumors roll off. What was the point of correcting them? People would believe what they wanted anyway. The truth was messy enough.

You had moved here after the incident at your previous school. Your friend had ended up in the hospital, in a coma. You had tried to save him but it still wasn’t enough. Every single day since then had felt heavy, like you were walking underwater. You didn’t think you’d ever feel comfortable with anyone. That is until you met him.

Kim Juhoon.

He was in the same year but in the advanced class. Handsome, ridiculously smart and always at the top of the rankings. The kind of student teachers loved and girls admired from a distance.Your first meeting with him was.... something.

~~

You’d barely stepped into the empty hallway when Hyoman and his pack cornered you like wolves who’d finally caught their prey.

“Did you really kill your friend?” Hyoman asked, voice low and mocking as he slammed a hand against the locker beside your head, trapping you. His eyes glittered with curiosity. “That’s what everyone’s saying”

Your jaw tightened. The rumor never got old, and neither did the anger it dragged up.

“Yeah?” You lifted your chin, staring straight into his face. “You wanna be next?”

A nasty smirk curled on Hyoman’s lips. One of his friends stepped forward, slowly dragging his gaze up and down your body in a way that made your skin crawl.

“Getting brave now, are we?” he drawled, voice thick with something worse than anger. “Cute. But that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble, sweetheart.”

You balled your fists so tight your nails dug into your palms. Every instinct screamed at you to swing, to make them regret poking you. But the promise you made echoed in your head: No more fights

You swallowed hard and scanned the room desperately. The window at the end of the corridor was cracked open just enough so you bolted.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?!” one of them snapped, lunging after you.

His fingers clamped around your arm, yanking you back. Hyoman was right behind him, reaching to grab your other wrist. You twisted sharply and drove your knee hard between Hyoman's legs. He crumpled with a strangled grunt.

You broke free and sprinted, heart racing with adrenaline. Another guy cut you off, slamming into you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’re gonna regret this, darling” he hissed into your ear. A small knife glinted in his other hand. “We’re not done playing with you yet.”

“Fuck off!” you snarled, thrashing wildly. You managed to wrench yourself free, but not without cost—the blade sliced a clean, stinging line just beneath your eye. Pain flared across your face. Warm blood trickled down your cheek.

“Oh shit,” the guy laughed, eyes widening with fake pity. “Did I ruin that pretty little face? What a shame. Guess I’ll have to mark up the rest of you to match—”

You didn’t wait to hear the rest. You spun and sprinted for the window. Hyoman’s footsteps echoed right behind you.

“Come back here, you little bitch!”

You flipped him off without looking back. “asshole!”

You jumped through the open window just as his fingers brushed the back of your shirt. The drop wasn’t as bad as you feared—you hit the grass below with a hard roll, the impact jarring your bones but not breaking anything. Pain bloomed in your ankle, but you forced yourself up and ran. Shouts and pounding footsteps followed. They were still coming.

Your eyes darted across the school grounds. The art room. It was always open this late for the painting club. If you could just make it there somehow. You pushed, lungs burning, blood still dripping from your cheek onto your collar. Every step sent a fresh spike of pain through your face, but you didn’t stop.

The art room door was thankfully unlocked. You slipped inside, and carefully shut it behind you. The smell of turpentine and oil paint hit you instantly. You pressed your back against the wall, breathing hard, and slid down until you were sitting on the cool floor.

For a moment, there was only silence except for the frantic beating of your own heart and the distant sound of your pursuers still searching outside. You touched the cut under your eye and winced. It was shallow, but it stung like hell.

Then you heard a soft creak of a chair from the back of the room.

Shit.

Your head snapped toward the back of the art room. There, half-hidden behind a tall easel draped with a half-finished canvas, sat a boy you recognized immediately.

Juhoon.

He was slouched in the corner, one leg lazily crossed over the other, a thick book resting in his lap and earphones hung from his ears.. He looked completely at peace until his gaze lifted and met yours. For a split second, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

His eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his usually unreadable face. You froze, mouth slightly open, blood still slowly trickling down your cheek from the cut. You had no idea what to say.

Before you could form a single word, Hyoman’s voice sliced through the quiet from just outside the door.

“She went this way! Check the art block!”

Your stomach dropped. Pure panic flooded your veins. You shot a desperate look at Juhoon. He still looked lost, like his brain was struggling to process why a bloodied, frantic girl had just burst into his place. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

There was no time.

Your eyes darted around the room and locked onto the large supply cupboard in the far corner. Without thinking, you gave Juhoon one last pleading look. He didn’t nod or speak. But something shifted in his expression. You didn’t wait for more. You bolted across the room, yanked open the cupboard door, and slipped inside just as the main door to the art room slammed open.

The space was cramped and smelled strongly of paint and old wood.You pulled the door almost fully shut, leaving only a thin sliver to peer through.

“Check everywhere,” Hyoman growled. “That bitch couldn’t have gone far.”

You saw three pairs of shoes through the gap. One of them walked dangerously close to the cupboard. You held your breath, pressing a hand over your mouth to muffle any sound. The cut under your eye burned like fire, but you didn’t dare move.

From your hiding spot, you could just see Juhoon. He had pulled one earphone out and was now calmly looking down at his book again, as if nothing unusual was happening. Only the slight tension in his shoulders gave him away.

Hyoman stopped right in front of him.

“You. Seen a girl run through here?”

Juhoon slowly lifted his gaze, his voice low and unbothered.

“…No.”

“You sure?” Hyoman asked, narrowing his eyes.

Juhoon didn’t even flinch. He leaned back in his chair, pulling the other earphone out slowly, and answered in that same flat, unbothered tone.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

One of the guys, the broad one who had cut your face snorted. “What if he’s lying? She could be hiding somewhere in here.”

Juhoon’s gaze remained steady, almost bored. “There’s no reason for me to lie. I don’t even know who you’re talking about.”

The air grew thick with suspicion. Hyoman stared at Juhoon for a long second, clearly trying to read him. For a moment, it looked like they might actually leave… until the guy with the knife started walking straight toward the cupboard.

Your stomach twisted. Shit—

Juhoon noticed at the same time. He let out a quiet sigh and finally spoke again, voice calm but firm.

“I was trying to watch something. Can you guys leave?”

There was a beat of silence.

Then Hyoman burst out laughing, the sound loud and ugly in the quiet art room. The others joined in, exchanging mocking glances.

“You?” Hyoman grinned, raising an eyebrow. “The nerd is watching something? Damn… it’s always the quiet ones, huh?”

Juhoon just stared back at them, expression blank. He simply waited.

Hyoman waved a hand dismissively. “Whatever. Go back to your weird shit, freak.” He jerked his head toward the door. “She’s not here. Let’s go.”

Their footsteps echoed across the wooden floor as they finally left, still laughing and throwing crude jokes behind them. The door slammed shut. Silence swallowed the room once more.

You stayed frozen inside the cupboard, knees tucked to your chest, barely daring to breathe. Then the cupboard door creaked open. You flinched hard, heart leaping into your throat but it was only Juhoon.

He crouched slightly so he could see you better. His eyes scanned your face, lingering on the fresh cut beneath your eye and the drying blood on your cheek. For a moment, something unreadable flickered across his features—concern, maybe or just mild surprise.

“They’re gone,” he said quietly. His voice was softer now, without the cold tone he’d used with Hyoman. He paused, then added, “You’re bleeding.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” you muttered, voice sharper than you intended.

You pushed yourself out of the cramped cupboard, wincing as your stiff muscles protested. Juhoon blinked, clearly stunned by your tone for a second. He stood there awkwardly, one hand still holding the cupboard door, watching as you brushed dust and paint flakes off your clothes.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between you. You finally looked up at him and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And… thank you”

Juhoon studied you for a moment, his eyes unreadable. Then he turned and walked over to his bag without a word. He rummaged inside it before tossing a small bottle of water your way. You caught it with both hands.

“Thanks…” you started, but the words barely left your mouth before the art room door burst open with a loud bang.

“HEY JUHOON! I’ve been searching everywhere for—”

Martin froze mid-step, eyes widening as they darted from you to Juhoon, then back to your bloodied face and messy appearance. The playful grin on his face vanished instantly.

“Anyone care to explain what the hell is going on here?”

Juhoon didn’t miss a beat. He quickly gathered his books and earphones, slinging his bag over one shoulder as he walked toward Martin.

“It’s nothing,” he said calmly. “Let’s go.”

Martin’s eyes narrowed. He tried to lower his voice, but the art room was too quiet for you to miss a single word.

“Why the hell were you with her?” he hissed. “Didn’t you hear the rumours?”

Juhoon grabbed his arm, trying to steer him toward the door, but Martin kept going.

“She killed her friend, man. You know that, right? So stay away from her”

The words hit like a slap. Your chest tightened painfully, the sting reaching deeper than the cut on your face. You looked away, jaw clenched, refusing to let them see how much it hurt.

Juhoon shot Martin a sharp look and yanked him outside. “Shut up and move.”

The door clicked shut behind them, leaving you completely alone in the dimly lit art room. You stood there for a long moment, fingers gripping the water bottle so tightly it creaked. The silence felt suffocating now. The cut under your eye burned, but the ache in your chest was worse.

~~

*A few days later*

The neon sign above the karaoke bar pulsed pink and electric blue, casting shifting colors across the wet pavement. Music thumped through the walls, muffled laughter and off-key singing spilling out every time the door opened. You hadn’t wanted to come, but when a classmate texted saying it was just “a small get-together to chill,” you’d convinced yourself it might be harmless. However you were so wrong.

The moment you stepped inside, the smell of cheap alcohol, cigarette smoke, and sweet perfume hit you. The private room your classmate had reserved was already packed. Your eyes scanned the crowd and your stomach dropped.

Several seniors from your old school were there, loud and drunk. Worse, three guys from Hyoman’s crew lounged on the couches, bottles in hand, their eyes lighting up with recognition the second they saw you.

You turned on your heel immediately.

“I think I should just go—” you started, voice tight.

A girl from your class, soojin grabbed your wrist with surprising strength and pulled you deeper into the room, smiling like everything was fine.

“Come on, stay for a bit! Don’t be such a buzz skill. Just relax, yeah?”

Before you could pull away, one of Hyoman’s friends stood up and shoved a glass filled with amber liquid into your hand. His smirk was ugly, eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.

“Why don’t you have a few shots until this bottle’s finished?” he said, nodding toward a half-empty soju bottle on the table. His voice carried over the pulsing music, loud enough for everyone nearby to hear. The challenge hung thick in the air like smoke. “Then maybe we’ll let you leave.”

Your fingers tightened around the glass. “Why the hell should I?”

The room seemed to quiet just a fraction. A couple of people chuckled nervously. The guy leaned in closer, breath reeking of alcohol.

“Isn’t your friend still in the hospital?” he asked slowly, voice dropping into something almost sweet. “It would be a real shame if something… happened to make his condition worse, don’t you think?”

A cold chill raced down your spine.The music continued to blast around you—someone was butchering a pop song on the mic—but all you could hear was the pounding of your own heart and the threat echoing in your mind.

You stared at the glass in your hand, the liquid catching the flashing lights. The others watched you, waiting. Soojin’s grip on your arm loosened, her smile now uneasy. The guy raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself.

“Well? Bottoms up.”

You stared at the glass for a second longer, then tilted your head back and started drinking.

One shot. Two. Three. The cheap soju burned like fire down your throat, spreading heat through your chest and into your stomach. The room’s neon lights blurred at the edges with every swallow. Laughter and terrible karaoke singing faded into a distant, throbbing hum.

By the sixth shot, your vision started swaying. Nausea rolled violently in your gut, threatening to send everything back up. Your legs felt unsteady beneath you, but you kept your face blank.

The guys from Hyoman’s group watched with sick amusement, grinning like predators enjoying the show. You took the final shot. The empty glass clinked loudly as you slammed it down on the table. For a moment, the room spun hard. You swallowed the bile rising in your throat and forced a smirk onto your lips.

“Here,” you said, shoving the glass back into the broad guy’s hand. Your voice came out rougher than you wanted, but steady enough. “Happy now?”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised you’d actually finished it. A couple of his friends laughed and clapped mockingly.

“Damn, she actually did it,” one of them chuckled.

The guy who’d threatened you earlier smirked back, leaning in close enough that you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Not bad. You’ve got more balls than I thought.” He waved a lazy hand toward the door. “Alright, get the fuck out of here. We’re bored of you now.”

Relief crashed over you, but it was quickly drowned by the spinning dizziness. You didn’t wait for them to change their minds. You turned and pushed your way through the crowded room, shoulder bumping into strangers as the flashing lights made everything worse.

The cool night air hit you like a slap the second you stumbled out of the bar. The door swung shut behind you, cutting off the music and laughter. You took a few shaky steps down the sidewalk before the world tilted violently.

“Fuck…” you whispered, pressing a hand against the cold brick wall for support. Your stomach churned. The ground felt like it was moving under your feet. You only made it about thirty meters down the dimly lit street before the world spun too violently to fight anymore.

Your knees buckled. The sidewalk rushed up to meet you as you collapsed hard onto the cold concrete. A sharp sting shot through your palms where you tried to break the fall.

If only suho was here.… you thought hazily. I just want to disappear. You thought you were alone. The street was quiet except for the distant hum of traffic and the muffled bass still leaking from the karaoke bar behind you.

Then you heard footsteps approaching you.

A familiar voice cut through the fog in your head.

“What the hell happened to you?”

You recognized it instantly. Juhoon.

He crouched down beside you without hesitation. His dark eyes widened slightly as they took in your disheveled state and his usual calm mask cracked with visible concern.

He reached out, hesitating for a second before gently gripping your shoulder to steady you.

“Hey… can you hear me?” His voice was low. “Did you drink?”

The smell of his faint cologne mixed with the cold night air. You tried to push yourself up, but your arms trembled and gave out again. Humiliation burned in your chest alongside the nausea. Of all people… why did it have to be him who found you like this?

You groaned, the world still spinning even on the ground. When Juhoon reached for you again, you swatted his hand away sharply.

“Fuck. Leave me alone.”

“Hey—” Juhoon started, voice firm. He didn’t pull back. Instead, he stayed crouched beside you, stubborn as hell, refusing to leave you crumpled on the dirty sidewalk.

“Juhoon, just leave,” you snapped, harsher this time. You forced yourself up, ignoring the way your legs felt like jelly. The second you were halfway standing, the ground tilted violently. You stumbled forward and crashed straight into his chest.

Juhoon’s arms wrapped around you instinctively — one hand firm on your waist, the other bracing your shoulder — pulling you flush against him to keep you from falling again. For a minute, everything stopped. Your cheek was pressed against his shoulder, and you could feel the steady beating of his heart beneath his hoodie. Your own heart raced wildly, a mix of alcohol, and adrenaline.

You glanced up at his face. His eyes were wide, lips slightly parted. A faint flush crept up his neck and across his cheeks. He cleared his throat, clearly trying to play it cool.

“…okay?” he asked, voice a little rougher than before

He carefully loosened his hold, giving you space, but kept one hand lightly on your arm just in case. You stepped back and pushed him away, gentler this time.

“I’m fine,” you muttered.

“You don’t look fine,” he said quietly, scanning the cut under your eye and your unsteady posture.

You tried to laugh it off, but it came out weak. “I’m fine. Just drank a little.”

“A little?” Juhoon echoed, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

The irritation and shame boiled over. You turned away from him, fists clenched at your sides.

“Why are you even here talking to me?” you huffed, voice cracking slightly. “You shouldn’t get involved with me. I killed my friend, right? That’s what everyone says. So just… go. Save yourself the trouble and stay away”

You started walking away... or at least tried to. Your steps were shaky, but you forced yourself forward.

“I don’t believe them.”

His words stopped you cold. You froze mid-step, then slowly turned around. Juhoon was still standing there under the streetlight, hands in his pockets, watching you with that calm, steady gaze. He didn’t look like he was joking.

“You wouldn’t hurt anyone,” he added, softer this time.

You searched his face, heart twisting painfully in your chest. The sincerity in his eyes made something inside you crack. For the first time in weeks, someone was looking at you like you weren’t a killer.

“How do you know that?” you slurred, your voice thick and unsteady. The alcohol made your tongue feel heavy, and the words came out softer than you wanted. You swayed on your feet, squinting at him under the hazy streetlight.

Juhoon stepped closer. “I just do.” His tone left no room for argument. He glanced down the empty street, then back at you. “Now let me drop you off. You’re not walking home like this.”

“I don’t need—”

Before you could finish the sentence, the world tilted again. Your knees buckled. Juhoon moved fast, catching you as you stumbled. This time he didn’t just steady you. In one smooth motion, he scooped you up — one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back — lifting you bridal-style against his chest like you weighed nothing.

“Hey—! Put me down!” you protested, voice cracking with embarrassment. You pushed weakly against his shoulder, face burning. “Juhoon, I’m serious! Let go!”

“Stop squirming,” he muttered, adjusting his grip so you wouldn’t slip. His voice was calm, but you caught the slight strain and the way his ears had turned red. “You can barely stand. Just… let me do this.”

You kept struggling half-heartedly, kicking your legs a little even though it made the dizziness worse. “This is humiliating— people are gonna see…”

“There’s no one around,” he replied simply, already walking down the quiet street. His steps were steady despite carrying you. You could feel the warmth of his body through his hoodie, the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and the faint scent of his perfume mixed with fresh night air.

You huffed, eventually giving up the fight as exhaustion crashed over you. Your head lolled against his shoulder.

“…Why are you doing this?” you mumbled against his collar, eyes half-closed. “Everyone else thinks I’m a killer. You should too.”

Juhoon slowed his steps for a second, adjusting you more comfortably in his arms.

“Because I’ve seen enough to know the rumors are bullshit,” he said eventually, voice low. “And I’m not leaving you out here alone. All drunk”

“So caring, I see…” you mumbled sleepily against his shoulder, the words slurring together. “Whoever dates you is gonna be the luckiest girl alive.”

Juhoon let out a low, surprised chuckle. The sound vibrated warmly through his chest, and you felt it more than you heard it.

“You probably have girls lining up to date you, right?” you continued, the alcohol completely loosening your tongue. You tilted your head back slightly to look at his face, your cheek brushing his jaw. “Tall, smart, handsome… bet they’re obsessed.”

Juhoon sighed, shaking his head as he kept walking. A small, reluctant smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Not really like that,” he said quietly.

You blinked slowly, genuinely puzzled. “Huhhh!? Not even one?”

He glanced down at you, amused by your exaggerated reaction. “There are a few… but it’s not as much as you think. I’m barely noticeable most days.”

“Oh really?” you teased, poking his chest with a clumsy finger. “Then let me ask you something important, Mr. Invisible. How many chocolate packs did you get for Valentine’s Day?”

Juhoon hesitated for a second, then answered almost sheepishly, “Mhm… thirty.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Oh—” He realized how it sounded right after he said it and faltered, his ears turning visibly red under the passing streetlights.

You burst into soft, tipsy laughter, your body shaking lightly in his arms. The movement made him tighten his grip on your waist to keep you steady.

“Maybe this is why you don’t have a girlfriend,” you giggled. “You get thirty packs of chocolate and still act like you’re invisible. So unfair…”

Juhoon rolled his eyes, but the small smile on his face lingered. “You’re not allowed to bully me while I’m literally carrying you home”

“Thirty though…” you repeated, still giggling. “That’s a whole army of admirers. Do they write love letters too? Draw little hearts on the boxes?”

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” he muttered, but there was no real bite in his voice. He shifted you slightly in his arms, pulling you a little closer as the night breeze picked up. “And what about you?” Juhoon asked after a moment, his voice low. “You probably have people who admire you too.”

You scoffed, the sound sharp and bitter even through the slur in your words. “That’s gotta be a joke… You really think I have people secretly admiring me from afar? After everything?”

Juhoon paused mid-step. His arms tightened slightly around you as he continued walking, slower this time.

“I do,” he said softly.

You let out a tired, frustrated breath and shook your head against his shoulder. “You’re just being kind right now. I know you don’t mean that. You don’t have to act so good, Juhoon. I know you’re just being sweet so I don’t feel like complete shit.…”

Juhoon stopped walking completely.

For a few seconds, the only sounds were distant traffic and your own uneven breathing. He shifted you in his arms so he could look at you properly. His eyes scanned your face— lingering on the healing cut beneath your eye, then drifting to your tired ones. A faint heat crept up his neck again, but he didn’t look away.

“I do admire you,” he said, voice quiet but steady. “You’re strong. Even when people treat you like garbage, you still stand up for yourself. And you stand up for people who aren’t as strong as you… even if they don’t deserve it. You’re blunt as hell, and yeah...I like that about you.”

“You’re not just saying that?” you whispered.

“I’m not the type to say things I don’t mean,” he replied simply.

You swallowed hard, suddenly hyper-aware of everything — how close he was holding you, the warmth of his chest, the way you felt strangely safe for the first time in weeks. Your house appeared at the corner of the street, the familiar gate coming into view under the soft glow of the streetlamp. You stayed quiet, letting the moment linger a little longer.

But then your mind drifted back to what happened with Suho. You couldn’t let Juhoon end up the same way. This time you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if something happens to another person. When Juhoon gently set you down in front of your gate, your legs wobbled but held. Before he could say anything, you forced the words out, voice cold and slurred.

“Stay away from me. I mean it.” You took a shaky step back. “I don’t want us to interact at school… or anywhere else.”

Juhoon looked visibly taken aback, his dark eyes widening. “Why?”

He stepped closer, searching your face for an answer. You pushed at his chest, harder than you intended.

“In grateful for you helping me today … and that day in the art room,” you continued, voice rising unsteadily, “but just stay the hell away from me, okay?”

Juhoon didn’t move. He stood there under the dim light, staring at you with that stubborn expression.

Part 2?

[honeyscara]

Guys im so sorry I havent been posting regularly. I have exams going on right now so its been pretty hectic😭

[honeyscara]

❝ Argument ❞ — Kwon Ohyul

~lngshot

Synopsis: when you wore something revealing after a big argument with your bf

Content: ohyul x fem!reader, ohyul being a little rude in the start, angst to smut

Cw/tw: explicit sexual content, 18+ mdni!! fingering (rough), oral sex (female receiving), nipple play and breast worship, teasing, dirty talk, and use of the pet name "princess", strong language/profanity

~2.9k words. | lngshot masterlist |

You didn’t know how it had gotten this bad. It started with the usual small things like missed calls and canceled plans. But tonight, something inside you finally snapped.

“Why do you keep blowing me off?” you asked, voice sharp with months of built-up frustration as he stood by the door, already halfway out.

Ohyul barely glanced at you, checking something on his phone. “You know how busy I am. It’s not like I’m out having fun.”

“I do know,” you said, stepping closer, heart pounding. “Nowdays you leave before I even wake up and come back when I’m already asleep. You’re never here when I need you. I feel like I’m dating a ghost.”

He let out a tired sigh, finally looking up. “Can we not do this right now? I have to get to the company.”

“No, we’re doing this,” you insisted, blocking his path just enough to make him stop. “Every time I try to talk, you shut me down. ‘I’m busy,’ ‘Schedules,’ ‘Practice.’ What about me? What about us?”

“You know i care about you, i really do. I love you y/n but you're only thinking about yourself right now,” he snapped, voice louder now. “You have no idea what it’s like. Instead of supporting me, you’re making me feel guilty for doing what I have to do.”

“Supporting you?” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “I’ve always been supporting you. But the second I ask for a little bit of you in return, I’m the selfish one?”

Ohyul ran a hand through his hair, clearly at the end of his patience. “This isn’t some normal 9-to-5 job. I can’t just clock out when you want me too”

He grabbed his jacket and bag, movements jerky and angry. “I don’t have time for this right now. We’ll talk later.”

“No,” you said quietly, the fight draining into cold resolve. “Maybe I just won’t talk at all. If that’s what you want then fine. I’ll give you the silence you clearly need.”

“Suit yourself,” Ohyul muttered. He didn’t even look back as he yanked the door open. It slammed shut behind him with a final, echoing bang that left the apartment feeling painfully empty. Fine. If silence was what he wanted, you’d give it to him.

~

It was well past 8 PM when you heard the front door open and shut again. You didn’t turn around. You stayed focused on the kitchen counter, chopping vegetables with steady, deliberate movements. The soft sizzle of oil in the pan was the only sound in the apartment.

Ohyul stepped inside, kicking off his shoes with a heavy, exhausted sigh. He expected you to say something but there was nothing. You kept your back to him, ignoring his presence completely. He felt guilt settle in now.

He dropped his bag near the couch and collapsed onto it, rubbing his temples. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. After a few minutes, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Not gonna say anything?” he asked, voice low. He still hadn’t looked directly at you.

You kept your tone flat, eyes on the cutting board. “I’d rather not. Apparently I only think about myself.”

Ohyul rolled his eyes and leaned his head back against the couch, muttering something under his breath. Then he glanced toward the kitchen and froze.

You were wearing that thin, almost sheer black nightdress. The delicate fabric clung softly to your curves, the warm kitchen light making it nearly transparent in places. No bra underneath. Every subtle shift of your body revealed the gentle swell of your breasts and the faint outline of your nipples. The hem barely skimmed the tops of your thighs, and one delicate strap had slipped slightly off your shoulder.

His face flushed instantly, heat rushing up his neck. All the leftover anger tangled with a sudden, sharp surge of desire. He swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away.

“hmm—” The word came out hoarse.

He stood up slowly, almost involuntarily, and walked over to the kitchen island, stopping just behind you. Up close, the nightdress looked even more tempting.

“…You’re really going to keep ignoring me while dressed like that?” he murmured, his voice lower now, rough with conflicting emotions.

He took one more step closer, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his body behind yours. His hand hovered near the counter, fingers tense.

“Say something,” he said quietly, almost a plea wrapped in frustration. “Or don’t. Just… turn around and look at me.” You still ignored but you felt something warm bubble up inside you as ohyul stood closer.

"You said i haven't been giving you enough time right..." ohyul spoke again

"Not in the mood for this ohyul" you said and continued stirring some soup

"Im sorry" ohyul said

“I felt bad the moment I got to the company,” he continued, sounding genuinely regretful now. “I kept replaying everything I said… how I snapped at you. It’s just… these days with the comeback approaching, everything’s been so intense. I took all that frustration out on you, and I shouldn’t have.”

You swallowed hard as he apologized. Ohyul let out a slow breath, his hand finally settling lightly on the edge of the counter beside you.

“I know I’ve been distant,” he admitted, voice rough with exhaustion. “I know I’ve made you feel like you’re last on my list.”

He paused, then added more softly, “I love you like crazy....Even when I’m too tired or too stressed to show it.”

The warmth in your chest flared hotter, mixing with the leftover hurt. Your stirring slowed as you were fighting the urge to lean back into his chest. The argument from earlier still echoed in your mind but so did the sight of him standing behind you now.

“…You really think a quick ‘sorry’ fixes it?” you said, voice laced with both lingering anger and reluctant longing.

“Go back to your company or something since you’re so busy,” you muttered, voice edged with lingering hurt. You reached out and switched off the stove with a sharp click, then lightly pushed past him, trying to create some distance.

You only made it a few steps toward the living room before Ohyul moved.

His arms wrapped around you from behind in one smooth motion, pulling you gently but firmly against his chest. The sudden warmth of his body made your breath catch. He didn’t speak right away. Instead, his breath ghosted hot over the nape of your neck, sending a shiver racing down your spine.

“No… it won’t fix everything,” he murmured, voice low and rough with regret. “But I’m hoping it’s a start.” His hold tightened just slightly, possessive yet careful. His voice dipped, turning huskier as his gaze trailed down. “…I want to make it up to you. Let me take care of you tonight, my princess.”

The word “princess” slipped from his lips like it always used to—soft, intimate, and dangerously affectionate. It hit you harder than you expected, weakening your knees and melting some of the ice you’d tried to keep around your heart.

“Ohyul, I’m—” you started, but the words died in your throat the moment his lips pressed a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear.

A soft gasp escaped you. His mouth was warm, trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck and across your shoulder, each one sending sparks straight through your body. One of his hands slid up from your waist, grazing lightly over the sheer fabric of your nightdress until his palm cupped your breast.

His thumb brushed across your already hardened nipple, teasing it through the thin material with slow, deliberate circles. Your back arched instinctively into his touch, a whimper slipping past your lips.

“I can stop if you want,” Ohyul whispered against your skin, his voice strained with restraint. He paused his movements, lips hovering just above your shoulder, giving you a moment even as his body pressed closer. You swallowed hard, chest rising and falling quickly. The fight in you had almost completely dissolved.

“No…” you breathed, voice shaky with need. “God, you drive me insane. Don’t stop.”

A low, relieved groan rumbled in Ohyul’s chest. His arms tightened around you as he resumed his kisses. He nipped gently at your neck before soothing the spot with his tongue. His hand continued its slow exploration, squeezing and caressing your breast while his other hand slipped lower, tracing the curve of your hip through the nightdress, fingers teasing the hem as if asking permission to go further.

“I’ve missed spending time with you...” He rolled your nipple between his fingers, drawing another soft moan from you. “Let me make it right today”

Ohyul turned you around gently, his hands sliding to your waist. The moment you faced him, he captured your lips in a deep, hungry kiss. You kissed him back just as fiercely, months of frustration and longing pouring into the way your mouths moved together.

He guided you backward toward the couch slowly. The back of your legs bumped against the edge, and you both dropped down together. Ohyul settled over you, his body warm and solid between your thighs as he braced himself on his elbows.

His hands immediately pushed the thin fabric of your nightdress higher up your thighs, bunching it around your hips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, while one hand slipped back to your breasts, palming and rubbing them through the sheer material. His thumb circled your hardened nipple, sending sharp sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“Take it off…” he murmured against your lips, voice rough with need.

You pulled back just enough to let him. Ohyul sat up slightly and pulled the delicate nightdress up and over your head, tossing it aside. The cool air of the apartment hit your bare skin, but it was quickly replaced by the warmth of his body.

He didn’t waste a second. His lips trailed lower—kissing down your jaw, your neck, until his mouth closed over one sensitive nipple. A soft moan escaped you as your back arched sharply off the couch.

Ohyul groaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through you. He knew exactly how to drive you crazy. His tongue flicked over the hardened peak, slow and deliberate at first, then faster, circling and teasing before he sucked it into his mouth with just enough pressure to make your toes curl. His hand moved to your other breast, kneading the soft flesh firmly while his thumb rolled and pinched the neglected nipple, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

He alternated between them—licking, sucking, and gently biting one nipple while his fingers played with the other, pinching and tugging until both peaks were swollen, glistening, and aching with sensitivity. Every pull of his mouth and twist of his fingers made you whimper and squirm beneath him.

“Oh fuck… the sounds you're making,” he murmured .“I’ve missed the way you arch for me when I touch you like this.”

Your hands tangled in his hair, gripping it tighter as the pleasure was overwhelming. His movements were rougher than usual, with the same pent-up longing you’d both been carrying.

You could feel how hard he was through his pants, pressing insistently against your inner thigh as he continued his relentless nipple play.

“Ohyul…” you gasped, back arching higher, hips rolling up against him instinctively, seeking more friction. He lifted his head just enough to look at you, eyes dark with lust, lips shiny and swollen from his attention. One hand still cupped your breast, thumb lazily brushing over a glistening nipple as he spoke, voice low and strained.

“Tell me what you want, princess,” he rasped, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss just below your breast. But instead of waiting for words, he shifted his weight and let one hand slide down between your bodies.

His fingers teased along the edge of your panties—the only piece of clothing still separating you from him. He stroked your clothed heat with slow, deliberate pressure, rubbing the fabric against your slick folds. The friction was maddeningly light, enough to make you ache but not enough to satisfy.

“Ohyul…” you whined, voice breaking with frustration and need. Your hand reached down, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. “Please… touch me there. I need you.”

A low, satisfied hum vibrated in his chest. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, finally hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs in one smooth motion. He tossed them aside and settled more comfortably between your thighs, spreading them wider with his hands.

He didn’t tease anymore.

Two thick fingers slid through your slick folds, gathering your wetness before he pushed them inside you with one firm thrust. You cried out, back arching sharply off the couch as he immediately began pumping them. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers moving inside you filled the room soon.

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Ohyul groaned, eyes fixed on where his fingers disappeared into your heat. He curled them just right, hitting that perfect spot with every stroke.

You could barely breathe through the pleasure—each thrust of his fingers sent sparks shooting up your spine, the coil in your belly tightening rapidly. He added a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he fucked you harder with his hand, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with every deep plunge.

“So tight… so perfect,” he rasped, leaning down to kiss and bite at your inner thigh while his fingers never slowed. “Been too long since I felt you like this. I want to feel you come on my fingers.”

Your moans grew louder, hips bucking wildly against his hand as the pressure built unbearably. The wet squelching sounds mixed with your desperate whimpers, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Before you could tip over, Ohyul pulled his fingers out with a slick sound. You whined at the sudden emptiness, but the protest died on your lips when he lowered his head between your thighs.

He didn’t hesitate.

His tongue licked a long, slow stripe up your soaked folds, tasting you thoroughly before he sealed his mouth over your clit and sucked hard. At the same time, he pushed his two fingers back inside you, resuming that punishing rhythm—fucking you deep and fast while his tongue flicked and swirled around your swollen clit.

The dual sensation was too overwhelming. Ohyul groaned into your core, the vibrations sending fresh waves of pleasure through you. He ate you out like a man starved—messy, eager, and relentless—alternating between sucking your clit and thrusting his tongue inside you alongside his fingers.

Your thighs clamped around his head as the pleasure crested. “Ohyul—fuck, I’m—!”

He curled his fingers harder, sucking your clit with just the right pressure. Your orgasm crashed over you, back bowing off the couch as you came hard on his tongue and fingers. Waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body, leaving you trembling and gasping his name like a prayer. Ohyul didn’t stop— he worked you through every pulse, licking and fingering you gently as you rode it out.

He pressed one last soft kiss to your sensitive clit before lifting his head, lips shiny and swollen. His fingers slipped out of you slowly, and he brought them to his mouth, licking them clean while holding your gaze.

“You okay?” he murmured huskily, crawling back up your body to kiss you.

His hand stroked your side soothingly, but the hard press of his erection against your thigh told you he was far from done.

[honeyscara]

I wanna change my theme a little >.<

[honeyscara]

Lngshot

Fluff 🩷 | Angst💕 | Suggestive 💜 | smut 💟

Note: smut and suggestive is only for ryul and ohyul

Kwon Ohyul

Shirt 🩷

Argument 💟

[honeyscara]

Ohyul ☆ shirt

~lngshot

A/n: my first lngshot work heh

~400 words

As you stepped out of the bathroom, towel still in hand, you spotted your roommate Ohyul pacing around the small dorm room, rummaging through drawers and the laundry basket with a furrowed brow. He looked genuinely worried, his dark hair slightly messy from running his fingers through it.

“Hey, Ohyul… what’s wrong?” you asked, walking closer.

“My favorite t-shirt,” he muttered quickly, still half-distracted. “The black one that looks kinda like—” He finally glanced up at you and froze mid-sentence, eyes widening.

You were wearing it.

The oversized shirt hung loosely on your frame, the hem brushing softly against your mid-thighs. You weren’t wearing anything underneath except your usual comfy shorts (which were hidden), but from his angle, it looked like the shirt was the only thing covering you.

“Oh… shit,” you whispered, realization hitting you like a truck. “I’m so sorry! I must’ve mixed it up with mine—they look so similar in the dark. I grabbed it without checking and just threw it on after my shower. I didn’t mean to—”

You started rambling, cheeks heating up in embarrassment, but Ohyul wasn’t really listening anymore.

His gaze had dropped to the way the soft fabric draped over your body, stopping teasingly at your thighs. It looked… good on you. Too good. The collar was a little loose, slipping slightly off one shoulder, and the shirt somehow made your legs look even longer. He swallowed hard, a quiet heat creeping up his neck.

You’re so beautiful, he thought, unable to stop staring for a second longer than he should. It fits you perfectly. Cute. Way too cute.

He quickly forced his eyes down before they could linger on your chest, cursing himself internally. She’s your friend. Your roommate. Don’t be weird.

You noticed his silence and tilted your head, a little concerned. A faint blush was already coloring your cheeks. “Ohyul…? Are you okay?”

He blinked, snapping out of it, and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. When he looked back up, his expression had softened into something gentler, almost fond.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” he said, voice a little lower than usual. “And don’t worry about the shirt. Keep it on. It looks… nice on you.”

The words slipped out before he could filter them properly. He immediately looked away, pretending to search for something else on his desk, but the tips of his ears had turned noticeably pink.

You stood there, heart beating a little faster, not quite sure what to say next.