summary: Haechan’s entire brain rewired after that single sentence sweet, shy, innocent Jisung oh-so nonchalantly said while eating a burger, and now? He’s on a mission.
this story is the sequel of:
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ‘choose me’ (wc: 0.8k) ʕ •ᴥ• ʔ ♡
pairings: haechan x afab!reader┊genre: fluff (with a sprinkle of comedy), hc is a hard simp who values consent & is patient┊wc: 2.8k┊cw: minimal cursing/swearing
a/n: thank u to the anon who motivated me to write this sequel 🫶
Lee Donghyuck, also known to the general public as Haechan, menace, chaotic but charming pos, vocal king, and professional yapper, was many things.
But above all?
He was head-over-heels, irrevocably, unapologetically, pathetically in love with you.
And damn, did everyone know it.
“You’ve literally been smiling at your phone for the past ten minutes,” Mark muttered, balancing a chopstick between his upper lip and nose for some unknown reason.
Haechan didn’t even look up.
“Can you blame me? She asked me out. ME! I was the chosen one.”
Renjun rolled his eyes. “You act like you didn’t spend months soft-launching her in every Instagram story and thirsting in her DMs.”
“Exactly! And all that hard work paid off,” Haechan declared, holding his heart like a Disney Princess who just found true love.
“This isn’t just a win for me. This is a win for all persistent, chaotic men out there.”
“You’re so dramatic,” Chenle snorted.
“Let him be,” Jaemin grinned. “He’s fucking in love.”
And yeah, he really fucking was.
After months of him yapping at you in hallways, showing up with your favorite drinks unannounced, and turning every conversation into a chance to make you laugh, you had reached out first for a date.
Haechan had been spinning since.
But he wasn’t blind. He knew your reputation very well.
People liked to talk. “Tinder girl” or “serial swiper”, as many people call you. And while it bugged him sometimes, he never said anything.
He liked you for you. Every unbothered, clever, sarcastic, onion-loving bit of you.
But then Jisung—sweet, shy, innocent Park Jisung who had zero idea what kind of bomb he was dropping—uttered a single sentence that rewired Haechan’s entire brain.
“Did you know she deleted Tinder.”
Haechan stared at Jisung like he had just grown a second head like the mythical creatures you two often talked about.
“What?”
“She deleted Tinder,” Jisung repeated, mid-bite of his burger.
“Said she’s not interested in dating around anymore, just seeing where it goes now with you.” he added, nonchalantly.
A hush fell over the lunch table.
Mark choked on his rice.
Chenle gasped so loudly, an old lady at the next table turned to look.
Jaemin screamed into a napkin.
Renjun and Jeno stared at Haechan like he was about to spontaneously combust.
Jisung shrugged as he took another bite of his burger.
“I guess so.”
It was at that moment that Haechan knew he needed to step up his game. Again.
Not to win you over, though. You were already on your way to being his.
But to show you that he noticed.
That he cared about every little thing.
Your likes, your dislikes. Your stress levels, your bad back, your caffeine dependency, your hatred of soggy onions.
ALL of it.
So when he heard you were skipping lunch to prep for the university festival?
He rallied the squad.
You were sweating, covered in paint, and very close to committing minor arson when you heard it.
“Y/N!”
You turned around mid-rant after some freshman had dropped a whole box of flyers and froze.
Mark, Renjun, Jeno, Jaemin, Chenle, and Jisung were all standing in the middle of the hallway, looking way too clean and composed to be real.
“What the hell?”
“We’re here to help,” Mark said casually, already rolling up his sleeves.
“Are you serious? Why?”
“Because we like you,” Jaemin said with a wink.
“Because you clearly need it,” Renjun added, stepping over a paintbrush.
“Also because Haechan threatened us,” Jeno deadpanned.
“Where is Haechan?” you asked, suspicious.
“He’ll be here,” Chenle grinned. “Had to pick something up.”
You narrowed your eyes but didn’t argue. You were too tired, and honestly, you needed the help.
But of course, nothing was ever simple when the boys were around.
Because within five minutes, a group of university girls (probably from the next booth over) had started coming over where you were. Smiling, twirling their hair, leaning in to 'ask for help'.
“Hey, can you help me lift this? You look so strong,” one of them purred at Jeno.
“Uh… I have a girlfriend.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Chenle whispered. Jeno elbowed him in the ribs.
“Renjun, by any chance, are you single?” another girl asked, practically batting her eyelashes. Renjun didn’t even look up.
“Emotionally unavailable.”
“Hi, what’s your name?” someone tried with Jaemin.
“Sorry, I’m in love with someone else,” he said brightly, then muttered, “Who I haven’t even met yet, but I’m manifesting.”
But then the worst one turned to Haechan, who had just arrived—sweaty, breathless, arms holding a large paper bag.
“Hey, Haechan. I was wondering if we can go on a date after the festival?”
He didn’t miss a beat.
“No, I'm taken. Very taken. Stupidly, pathetically taken.”
The girl scoffed. “Oh, you serious?”
“Yeah. Serious enough that I’d reject you in this life, the next one, and every damn lifetime I get after that,” Haechan said, not even sparing her a glance as he pushed past.
He made a beeline for you.
“Did you think I’d let you starve again?”
You turned, surprised, as he dropped a paper bag in front of you.
Inside was your favorite food—with extra onions, just the way you liked it. Your go-to dessert and coffee from that café a good thirty-minute walk away. Energy drinks, and pain relief patches.
“For your back,” he added, holding them up proudly.
“Because I know it acts up when you’re stressed.”
You stared at him, the noise around you fading in the background.
“What the fuck,” you whispered. “How do you remember all this?”
He just grinned, boyish and cocky and painfully attractive.
“I just do.”
Hours later, when the festival prep was done and the guys had retreated to their dorms, Haechan found himself on your couch, legs tucked up, phone discarded somewhere.
“You wanna eat dinner?” he asked casually.
“I’m too tired to chew,” you groaned from where you were face-down in a pillow.
He clicked his tongue. “You can’t sleep on an empty stomach.”
“You gonna force-feed me?”
“I’m gonna cook for you, actually.”
“You can cook???”
“I can cook ramen,” he said, rummaging through your empty fridge and pathetic excuse of a pantry.
“You need to go grocery shopping.”
“No time.”
“We’ll go together this weekend.”
You didn’t argue.
Eventually, he found ramen and made it exactly the way you liked it. You took one bite and stared at him like he had just performed a miracle.
“What the—how the fuck did you make it perfect?”
With a smug smile, he slid his phone across the table.
“Notes app. Took notes during our FaceTime calls. Every time you made ramen, I watched, listened, and learned.”
You stared at him in disbelief.
“You have a Notes app entry dedicated to my ramen?” you said as you read the very detailed notes he took.
1. Add only half of the seasoning packet after 2 minutes of boiling
2. Add sesame oil; 1 and a half teaspoons only
3. Boil noodles for EXACTLY 3 min & 30 seconds; no more, no less!!!!!!
4. Turn stove off, add egg immediately, cover and leave to cook for 1 minute using residual heat
5. MOST IMPORTANT❗❗❗ Serve my 🤞future wife 👩❤️💋👨👰🏻🤵🏻🤞 with love 💖 affection 🥰 adoration 💕😍💘
“Don’t act surprised. You know I’m a hard simp for you.”
You laughed, loud and real. God, he loved that sound.
The two of you talked for hours. About nonsense, about dreams, about nothing and everything. And as you spoke, Haechan couldn’t stop staring.
The way your eyes lit up when you talked about something you loved. All your hand gestures. The way you tilted your head when you were about to say something smart-ass-y.
He was so screwed. So fucking screwed.
When it was time for him to leave, you walked him to the door, your voice softer than usual.
“Thanks for today, seriously… you were amazing.”
He shrugged, trying to seem cool despite the way his heart was screaming.
“Anything for you.”
You stepped in and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
His brain shut down.
“That’s for being sweet,” you murmured, visibly blushing.
He opened his mouth to say something. Maybe a joke, maybe a plea for another kiss.
But before he could even get the words out, you leaned in again and kissed him on the lips.
It was so sweet, so soft, so warm that Haechan felt all fuzzy inside.
Then you pulled back with a shy smile.
“You deserved that. Good night, Lee Donghyuck.”
Haechan walked home that night giggling like a damn schoolgirl, skipping down the sidewalk.
He didn’t sleep that night. He just couldn’t.
Too busy replaying the kiss. Too busy falling in love all over again.
Haechan was dead serious about grocery shopping with you that weekend. He never forgot the image of your empty fridge and pantry.
From the moment the shopping cart hit the tile floor of the supermarket, however, he knew he had made a mistake.
Not about coming here with you. Never about that.
But bringing along the rest of NCT DREAM? That was asking for chaos.
And they delivered.
Renjun and Chenle were three seconds away from a fistfight over which brand of dumplings “tasted like home".
Mark was trying to prevent Jisung from dumping eight family-size frozen pizzas into the cart.
Jaemin had disappeared somewhere near the meat section.
And Jeno… well, Jeno was quietly loading protein bars.
In the middle of it all was you, trying so hard not to lose your mind. Eyes sharp, sleeves rolled, your phone out with a list, and your tolerance hanging by a thread.
Haechan couldn’t stop staring at you in awe though.
You were tired, stressed, beautiful. His (even if you hadn’t officially said it yet; he just believed in manifestation). And he had never wanted to take care of someone more in his life.
He drifted toward you, grinning. “You good, baby?”
You let out a sigh.
“I just saw Jisung try to eat a dried squid like a snack.”
“Protein,” Haechan nodded seriously.
“You all have one brain cell and it’s constantly overheating.”
“And yet,” he said, bumping your shoulder playfully, “you keep showing up.”
You shook your head, but your smile tugged at the corners. He caught it, always did.
And then, he started his little mission.
While the guys fought over snacks and Jisung questioned the difference between ‘plain yogurt' and ‘Greek yogurt’, Haechan was pulling things from your cart and swapping them.
He snuck in quality produce, whole grains, probiotic drinks. Things he knew you never bought for yourself because they were too expensive or felt unnecessary.
“You’re not sneaky,” you whispered, catching him replacing your soda with vitamin water.
“I’m caring,” he replied. “There’s a difference.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re unhealthy. Let me love you properly.”
He meant it.
At checkout, you tried to pay. And Haechan—full-time menace, part-time boyfriend hopeful—snatched your wallet with reflexes born from years of being nosy.
“I got it.”
“Haechan—”
“Nope, I’m paying. You deserve nice things. Like salmon and A5 Wagyu.”
“It’s a grocery run, not a honeymoon—”
“Too late. I’m already emotionally invested in your fridge, your health, and your life.”
He said it so confidently, so shamelessly, the cashier actually giggled.
Haechan didn’t care. He tapped his card like it was nothing and slung the bags over his shoulders like a knight delivering offerings to his queen.
Back at your apartment, you both unpacked in comfortable silence. The rest of the guys had gone back to their dorms, and now it was just you and him.
Haechan placed your drinks in the fridge in rainbow order while you arranged the dry goods.
He felt good here, like he always belonged.
He snuck glances at you as you folded and stacked, moving around the space he now knew better than his own dorm kitchen. You looked peaceful, your brows slightly furrowed in concentration.
God, he was down bad.
Once everything was away, he leaned on the counter and gave you a look.
That look.
“What?” you asked, cautious.
“Can I kiss you?”
Your shoulders relaxed just a little.
“You’re asking?”
“I just want to make sure,” he said.
“Because this one’s not just for being cute... or for making Mark gag. This one’s because I’m into you. Deep. I want this to be meaningful.”
You smiled softly at him and nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”
Haechan didn’t think the moment could get any better after you said yes to the kiss.
He had asked because, of course, he would. He should.
That was just who he was with you: careful, patient, a little hopeless. Always waiting for the green light. And when you gave it with that soft smile on your face, he swore the earth tilted under his feet.
The kiss had been slow, sweet, and tender. And now, you sat next to him on your couch, your fingers still tangled with his, your heart steady but loud in the quiet of the apartment.
Then you looked at him, and he saw something shift in your eyes. Something big.
“Haechan…” you called softly.
“Can I be your girlfriend?”
His heart slammed in his chest.
He froze, blinking as if he hadn’t heard you right. But before he could say anything, you kept going.
“I think you’re the one I’ve been looking for all along. And I don’t know if it’s too late, but I really regret not making the effort to get to know you better earlier... I wasted so much time dating shitty men who couldn’t even treat me like a person… or see me the way you've always seen me.”
His chest ached, but you weren’t done.
“You were always there. Holding space for me... never asking for anything. And now, looking at you, I just—I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. You’re the best plot twist of my life.”
He swore time stood still.
“I’m sorry I made you wait this long. I’m sorry I was out there swiping left and right while you were just… quietly being everything I ever needed. Thank you for sticking with me, Lee Donghyuck.”
And then—
“I love you,” Haechan blurted.
The words slipped out so fast, so soft, he barely noticed he said them aloud until your eyes widened.
He didn’t even mean to blurt it—he was just overflowing with so much love for you. Shocked. Elated. Completely gone.
You finally chose him.
He took a shaky breath, calming his racing heart.
“I didn’t say it because I wanted anything back,” he murmured.
“I just… I’ve loved you for so long without needing you to love me too. But now you’re here saying all this… it feels like I finally got to wake up in the dream I’ve been stuck in for a long time.”
You stared at him, visibly flustered now, lips parted like you couldn’t figure out what to do with yourself. Your eyes flicked everywhere, anywhere but his, like his confession shut your brain off.
He chuckled softly. “You’re shy now? After all that?” he teased, leaning in just enough to nudge your nose with his.
“Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you say anything like that?”
You couldn’t hide the obvious blush creeping up your face anymore, and with a small noise, you grabbed him and hugged him tightly, arms around his waist like you needed to hide in him.
Haechan melted immediately, arms coming around you, a huge smile tugging at his lips it almost hurt.
“God, you’re so cute,” he whispered into your hair.
“You’re done for, you know that? I’m gonna spoil you so bad, you’ll forget Tinder ever existed.”
You let out a muffled laugh against his chest.
And that’s when it finally hit him, the absurdity of it all.
“Oh my god, the guys owe me so much money.”
You pulled back slightly to look at him, confused.
“They all said I was delusional,” he said, dramatically rolling his eyes.
“That I’d stay your unofficial simp until I died. Jeno even bet me an entire month’s allowance that I’d never get past friend zone.”
You burst out laughing, and he grinned, leaning in like he was letting you in on a secret.
“But look at me now,” he whispered.
“Right here, with the girl who chose me.”
He kissed your cheek once, then twice for good luck, then smiled into your skin.
“I can’t wait to tell Jeno. I’m asking for payment in both hard cash and public humiliation.”
You giggled and leaned into him again, cheeks warm, heart full of happiness.
He was still Haechan. Dramatic, ridiculous, absolutely in love.
But now, he's officially yours.
accepting requests atm ₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎♡
also—PRE-SIMP HAECHAN IS OUT!!!
╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ ‘simping 101: get roasted & love will follow’
i can't get this look out of my head so here's this 😵💫
even haechan didn't know how he bagged a girl like you. but here you were, sitting next to him on his very own couch. he had agreed to let you come over to his apartment after your begging. he had warned you countless times of the noisy neighbors and how it was constantly freezing but you didn't mind. all that mattered was him.
you were playing mario kart together, eating pizza he had ordered. only, his attention had slowly drifted away from the game, not caring any more if you passed him.
"hyuck what happened to your streak?" you said through giggles as the screen popped up, saying you were in first and he was in fourth. his hand went to the back of his head as he leaned back on the couch, gaze running over you.
"i dunno, i thought you deserved to win," he said, voice extra raspy. you nodded, nothing less than suspicious.
"whatever you say... hey maybe you can show me leauge of legends; i don't wanna play but i'll watch you play." you said, watching as his expression changed.
he was suprised by your words, but he also knew how much you loved when he geeked out over things he was passionate about. "um sure," he said, making you smile. he helped you up from the couch, taking you to his bedroom, taking a seat on his gaming chair.
he started up the game, definitely taking notice to how you slowly inched closer to him. before he knew it, you were crawling onto his lap, claiming you were cold.
god you were absolutely evil he thought as you fiddled with the hem of his sweater, thighs bare on top of his. "maybe 'cause you decided to wear these shorts," he said, his hand running over your legs briefly before returning to his keyboard.
he played the game, explaining every aspect of it with enthusiasm despite the heavy tension between you two. you had started to tune him out, distracted by how his nimble fingers chased over his keyboard; how he bit his lips in between subtle curses when other players absolutely beat his ass.
"sorry i'm a bit rusty, haven't played in a few days..." he said as a sigh escaped his lips. he looked down at you, only to see that your eyes were practically eating him alive. "were you even paying attention... at all...?"
you shook your head, leaning in to press a kiss to his neck. "i was then i got distracted," you say softly, hands drifting under his sweater. his breath hitched, focus remaining on the game. "i know you're distracted too though."
your focus went back to the screen of his pc as a screen with the word DEFEAT popped up in big letters. he groaned turning to you. "god i hate you," he said, voice strained.
you pressed another kiss to his neck, watching as he let out a breath he probably didn't even know he was holding. "i know you don't," you said. your hands went further up his sweater and your kisses moved down to his collarbone.
warnings: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, pregnancy scare, mentions of periods, cursing, age gap, reader is 03 liner, that’s it i think :)
summary: bf!dreamies x members little sister!reader
127.ver
requested!
mark:
• when jaemin finds out his baby sister is dating mark, sure he’s a little mad that his sister is dating, but he knows mark, and knows he’s a dork, but he can take really good care of his members, so he doesn’t have any doubts he can do the same for you. he’s maybe a little pissed that his 99liner hyung is dating his sweet 03liner sister
• mark loves to hear stories about you from childhood, loves seeing your red angry blush as you try and hit your brother and cover his mouth
• doesn’t like showing pda in front of jaemin, out of respect, but when he’s not around oh he’s all over you
• poor boy almost has a heart attack when your period is late, he’s going back in forth in his mind trying to debate the best way to tell his best friend he knocked his baby sister up.
• he’s literally sitting jaemin down to tell him, shaking almost throwing up, then looks down at his phone, you’ve sent him a negative pregnancy test and tell him your period started that morning, leaving him to come up with a lie for jaemin
• jaemin is so confused. “you sat me down all serious to tell me the store didn’t have the bread you wanted?”
renjun:
• he’s rubbing it in marks face
• you’re the only daughter, the youngest and mark has tried to keep you away from teenage boys his whole life, barely ever bringing you around his hormonal prepubescent members, but now you’re an adult, visiting him more and leaving home. and you have got renjun wrapped around your finger.
• renjun follows you around, really making sure to have an arm wrapped around you whenever mark is in the room
• when mark threatens him with push ups next practice they settle on showing each other funny unflattering pictures of you to each other. when you find out you’re pulling marks hair and telling him to quit it
• will kiss and hug you in front of mark what is mark gonna do? kill him? don’t think so
• he does tell mark that he appreciates how laid back he is, and mark tells him you can be kinda scary so he doesn’t want to overstep. renjun laughs cause he’s right
• you always threaten renjun by telling mark if he makes you upset. “all i did was watch 2 more episodes after you fell asleep!” “im telling mark, get ready for 3 thousand push ups tomorrow”
jeno:
• renjun couldn’t believe it when he found you and jeno sneaking off after one of their shows, walking into a room backstage and finding you both making out.
• jeno shits himself and you’re screaming at renjun if he’s ever heard of privacy.
• he’s just staring at you both, his face is hard to read, that is until he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you away from jeno “let me go! oh my god you’re so overprotective! it’s just jeno!”
• he tries to keep you apart, he can’t stand the thought of his baby sister kissing and making out with anyone let alone someone he views as a brother
• doesn’t stop you and jeno sneaking around though, or texting or calling late at night
• renjun snitches on you to your parents and to his surprise they already knew
• really tries to intimidate jeno now, flexing more around him casually. but he knows he could never put up a physical fight with him.
• he’s is also very straight to the point telling jeno not to get you knocked up or heartbroken
• jeno just nods along. after a while renjun comes around and all he cares about is seeing you guys kissing or hearing you both be cute to one another, tells you both to get a room.
haechan:
• jeno constantly tells you that haechan had a crush on him first. is very butthurt that he now has to share his best friend with his sister.
• jeno is not very pushy, but he is overprotective, he does ask haechan to just keep any “canoodling” to a minimum around him, but his sister is an adult she can do what she pleases, within reason
• prays every night you don’t come to him crying about haechan dumping you or breaking your heart, not really wanting to have to knock him out, but for you he will.
• you are really close with your new boyfriend, constantly around him and the rest of dream now. but you do still have to share haechan, as he keeps flirting playfully with jeno
• jeno trusts haechan and he also trusts you, always tells you will beat haechan up for you if the worst is to happen. “if my sister comes crying to me, i might have to kill you”
• haechan knows he can’t fight jeno, and doesn’t plan on making you cry, but the message is received loud and clear.
jaemin:
• seriously? jaemin? haechan tells you he doesn’t know what you see in that weirdo
• you laugh and tell him jaemin is very sweet and caring, always taking care of you and treating you like a princess
• gets a little jealous cause that’s his job, he was always your protector, taking care of you from childhood as the eldest son, and now you have your new boyfriend, jaemin, his best friend, who is doing that instead of him.
• whenever he comes home and you’re already there on the couch with jaemin he always jokes about, pretending to come and sit in the middle of your little snuggle you got going on. you always push his ass and tell him to move, he’s blocking the tv. “ouch my own sister corrupted by love, i’ll remember that next time you need to borrow money”
• you roll your eyes before smiling up at him sweetly and he copies your expression.
• you always ask him for money for new date outfits, he always says you should wear a trash bag and see if jaemin still likes you like that, before you’re getting the notification that he sent the money. you always repay him by showing him stupid photos you take of jaemin.
chenle:
• jisung practically set you up with chenle, knowing you have a crush on him. and why wouldn’t chenle have a crush on his best friends pretty little sister.
• doesn’t complain when jisung just happens to get you both alone, by complete “accident”
• you get to know chenle more and your crush just deepens, and he’s teasing you, he loves knowing the effect he has on you, you’re completely unaware that jisung had spilled the beans to him about your crush.
• chenle adores you so much, you are literally the cutest thing ever to him, short and cute, a little shy at first, a lot like your big brother.
• jisung has to remind you to please don’t kiss in front of him, allowing you both to date just doesn’t want to see all that
• neither of you remember that though, too caught up in each other.
jisung:
• chenle is gassed when you and jisung eventually tell him that you’re dating
• calls jisung his real brother now, he’s already planning your guys’ wedding
• you blush and hit chenle saying you literally only just started dating stop trying to scare him off
• jisung tells you that could never happen, hand coming to play with your hair
• chenle is grimacing “gross” then immediately gushing again about his baby sister and his best friends getting together.
• when you’re alone with jisung chenle is texting you “jisungs abs are great right?” “chenle stop texting me we’re trying to make out”
• if chenle hears either of you calling each other a nickname he will use it for you guys as well.
A/n: Basically, Haechan is a gangster and Miyuki is a national intelligence service agent. And they both accidentally mix up partners and end up working together without realising they're from rival sides.
Warnings: Strong language, mentions of guns, death, violence, blood, injuries, fights, gang activity etc.
The warehouse smelled of rust and damp concrete. Shadows clung to the broken beams, and every creak of the metal roof above made Miyuki’s finger twitch on the trigger. She had been here for hours, following the trail of whispered intel, waiting for her so-called partner.
But she had no way of contacting her agency—not anymore. To protect her cover, all ties had been severed. No handler in her ear, no extraction plan, nothing. Just a single code word, burned into her mind like a lifeline.
Sunshine.
The only thing standing between her and a bullet.
Which is why her gun was now leveled at the chest of the unidentified man across from her. He had slipped out of the shadows as silently as a ghost, his own weapon raised, eyes sharp and unflinching.
For a long second, neither moved.
Then he spoke, voice low, edged with suspicion.
“I was told I’d be paired up with a Japanese girl for the mission. Is it you?”
Miyuki’s brow arched, but her hand didn’t lower. Could he be the one? Or was this the end of her cover before it even began?
“I was told I’d be accompanied by a Korean male agent,” she replied evenly. “Are you korean?”
His mouth quirked. “Yes. And you’re Japanese?”
“…Yeah.”
The tension thickened, heavy as the dust in the air. If he was lying, this was a trap. If he was telling the truth, then maybe—just maybe—this was the partner she was meant to find.
Miyuki wet her lips before asking, “What’s the code word?”
He didn’t flinch. “I was given one too.”
A pause, a flicker of calculation in his gaze. “Let’s say it together. On three.”
Her breath caught. This was it.
“One… two… three.”
Both: “Sunshine.”
The word echoed softly in the hollow warehouse.
Miyuki exhaled, her gun lowering just slightly, tension bleeding from her shoulders. Almost as if nothing had happened, the relief made her laugh under her breath.
“What took you so long? I’m so new to the country I could barely even get around.”
The man scratched the back of his neck, a sheepish smile finally breaking his sharp demeanor.
“Sorry. Traffic. Plus no one told me when you’d get here.”
Miyuki shook her head, holstering her weapon. “It’s fine.”
He stepped closer, extending his hand. “I’m Lee Donghyuck, but I go by Haechan.”
She hesitated for a moment before clasping his hand firmly.
“Fujinada Miyuki.”
The deal was sealed.
Two strangers. Two lies. One word binding them together.
They moved through the shadows, steps careful on the cracked concrete floor. The faint hum of machinery deeper inside the warehouse made Miyuki’s nerves prickle.
“I was informed this warehouse is where most of the shit happens,” she murmured, scanning the rafters above. “You think there’s surveillance?”
Haechan clicked his tongue, eyes flicking to the ceiling with the casual confidence of someone who’d been here before.
“I came here a few nights back. Dismantled the existing systems myself.”
She glanced at him, brows raised. “Really?”
He smirked, clearly amused at her doubt.
“Yeah. And honestly? This place has shitty security. The first night I came here, the guards standing watch were asleep.”
Miyuki hummed, lowering her voice as she peeked around a stack of crates. “Comforting.”
“Relax,” he whispered, sidling up beside her. “If anyone catches us, I’ll just tell them we’re here for a date.”
She shot him a glare, but her lips twitched despite herself. “Some date. Rust and dust.”
“What can I say? I’m a cheap man.”
Rolling her eyes, she focused back on the task. Together, they wove deeper inside, scanning crates marked with unfamiliar symbols and codes. The further they went, the more uneasy Miyuki felt—like the walls were pressing in, watching.
Her hand brushed the crate labels. “This isn’t local. Could be smuggling. Drugs, maybe weapons.”
Haechan crouched by one, tapping the wood with his knuckles. “Whatever it is, it’s not supposed to be here. And I bet the higher-ups don’t want anyone poking around.”
Their eyes met briefly in the dim light. For a moment, the weight of the mission pressed down again.
Then—footsteps echoed from the far end of the warehouse.
Miyuki stiffened instantly, gun already in hand. Haechan’s arm brushed against hers as he raised his own.
“Guess the guards aren’t asleep tonight,” he muttered under his breath.
Miyuki shot him a sharp look, whispering, “On three?”
His smirk returned, sharp and reckless this time. “Always.”
Gunfire rang out as they ducked behind a wall of crates, splinters flying from the wood. Miyuki’s pulse thundered in her ears, her hand gripping her gun so tight her knuckles ached. Haechan caught her wrist for a split second, eyes sharp as he jerked his head toward the side door.
They didn’t need words. They ran.
Boots pounded against the floor, shouts echoing behind them as bullets whizzed past. Haechan shoved open the rusted door, nearly ripping it off its hinges, and they tumbled out into the night air.
They didn’t stop running until they reached the edge of the warehouse district, lungs burning, adrenaline still buzzing in their veins.
Miyuki doubled over, hands on her knees as she sucked in sharp breaths. “Some professional you are,” she managed between pants, glaring at him.
Haechan leaned against the wall beside her, chest heaving, but he still had the audacity to chuckle.
“As if you could’ve done a better job sneaking in.”
She scoffed, straightening to push her sweat-damp hair out of her face. “I would’ve—if only you hadn’t been such a klutz and knocked the barrels down.”
He pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. “Excuse me, that was strategic. I was distracting them.”
Miyuki rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull. “Right. Strategic. Remind me to never trust you with silence again.”
But despite her words, her lips twitched, betraying the tiniest smile.
Haechan caught it, and his own grin spread, bright even in the dim streetlight glow. “Admit it—you’d be bored without me.”
Miyuki let out a sharp, sarcastic chuckle, shaking her head. “We just met, dumbass.”
He put a hand over his heart, staggering back a step like she’d stabbed him. “Ouch. That’s cold. I save your life, and this is the thanks I get?”
She arched a brow. “Save my life? You mean almost got us both killed.”
“Semantics,” he said breezily, though the corner of his lips twitched in amusement.
Despite herself, Miyuki laughed—just once, a short huff that she quickly smothered. The adrenaline was still high, her chest still tight, but standing there bickering with him almost felt… normal. Too normal.
Haechan tilted his head, catching the sound, eyes glinting. “There it is. Knew you had a sense of humor somewhere under all that professional glare.”
Miyuki shot him a sideways look, deadpan. “Don’t get used to it.”
“Too late,” he replied, smirk tugging at his lips again.
The apartment door creaked open with a groan that echoed down the dusty hallway. Haechan flicked the single light switch, and the bulb above them flickered weakly—barely clinging to life like the rest of the place.
Miyuki stepped inside and froze. The living room—if it could be called that—was a mess of broken floor tiles, peeling wallpaper, a cracked window patched with duct tape, and the slow drip, drip, drip of a leaking pipe in the corner.
She turned to him, deadpan. “What sort of a living state is this?”
Haechan kicked the door shut with his heel, tossing his jacket onto the lopsided couch like he owned the place. “We’re undercover, princess.”
Her eyes narrowed instantly. “Don’t call me that.”
He grinned, tugging open one of the cupboards only to find it empty. “What, it doesn’t suit you? You give me princess energy. Complaining about the royal accommodations and all.”
She crossed her arms, unimpressed. “If this is your idea of royal accommodations, I’d hate to see what you call a dungeon.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he shot back with a smirk, “this place is both.”
Miyuki rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the tiny huff of laughter that escaped her nose. She kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the sagging armchair with a sigh. The springs creaked threateningly, but at least it held her weight.
Her gaze flicked back to him, softer now. “Seriously, though… how long have you been holed up here?”
Haechan shrugged, leaning against the counter with a half-smile. “Long enough to start naming the cockroaches.”
She grimaced. “You’re disgusting.”
He winked. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ll protect you from them.”
“I said don’t call me that.”
“Noted, princess.”
Miyuki rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might get stuck. She watched Haechan shuffle over to the fridge, yank it open, and stare inside. After two seconds, he slammed it shut again.
“Let’s eat out,” he announced. “I forgot there’s no food here.”
Her jaw dropped. “What do you mean? I’m starving!”
He fished into his pocket and shook his purse, the faint jingle of coins filling the silence. His grin was almost proud.
“Which is why I said, let’s go eat.”
Miyuki groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “Unbelievable.”
—
A while later, they found themselves squeezed into a corner table of a hole-in-the-wall restaurant. The yellowed sign outside buzzed faintly, and the smell of fried oil clung to the air.
Their table was wobbly, the chopsticks mismatched, but the food was hot. And right now, that was all that mattered.
They’d ordered the cheapest meal on the menu—two bowls of steaming rice, a small portion of kimchi, and a fried egg each. Miyuki dug in immediately, barely pausing to breathe.
Across from her, Haechan leaned back lazily, chopsticks idle in his hand. His gaze flicked over her without him realizing, watching the way her brows knitted slightly when she focused on eating, how quickly the sharpness of her demeanor melted in front of a warm meal.
Before he could think about it, he nudged his plate forward and slid his egg onto hers.
Miyuki blinked, chopsticks frozen halfway to her mouth. “…What are you doing?”
“You look hungrier than me,” he said casually, like it was nothing. His tone was teasing, but the gesture wasn’t. “Eat it.”
She frowned, suspicious. “Are you trying to poison me?”
Haechan smirked, propping his chin on his hand. “If I wanted you dead, princess, I wouldn’t waste an egg.”
Her lips twitched despite herself. With a small sigh, she stabbed the egg and popped a piece into her mouth, chewing slowly.
“…Thanks,” she muttered.
“You’re welcome.”
The din of the little restaurant carried around them—clattering dishes, muffled conversations—but at their tiny corner table, it almost felt like they’d carved out a space just for the two of them.
The night air was heavy, carrying the sharp tang of gunpowder as shouts echoed down the alley. Haechan instinctively stepped forward, shoulders taut, but Miyuki’s hand shot out and yanked him back against the brick wall with her.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” she whisper-shouted, her eyes wide, every muscle in her body tight with alarm. She jabbed her chin toward the bald man standing in the middle of the chaos, his dragon tattoo coiling across his shaved skull, the ink of his full-body tattoos peeking beneath his loose shirt.
"Don't you know who he is?!" She whisper-screams.
Haechan glanced once, unfazed. “No, but he looks like trouble.”
Miyuki clamped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from groaning out loud. “Trouble?! That’s Japan’s most infamous yakuza leader. He controls the largest syndicate back home. That dude is lethal, Haechan.”
Haechan raised his brows, unimpressed. “And?”
Her jaw clenched, teeth grinding. “And?! He won’t hesitate to shed blood! He gave me this—this, okay?!”
She yanked up the edge of her shirt just enough to reveal the deep, jagged scar carved across her abdomen. It was old but ugly, the kind of wound that had nearly ended her.
Haechan’s bravado cracked instantly. He winced, whisper-screaming back, “What the fuck, princess?!”
Miyuki yanked her shirt down, glaring. “Yeah, I know. So don’t get tangled up with him. We cannot get tangled up with him. Especially me.”
Something about her tone made him pause. His eyes narrowed, searching her face. “Why ‘especially you’?”
She looked away, her throat bobbing. For a beat, all he could hear was the pounding of footsteps and the far-off bark of orders in Japanese. Then, quietly, almost like a confession slipping out before she could stop it:
“…I may or may not have killed his only son. And he may or may not be on a wild goose chase to find me…”
The silence between them grew unbearably heavy. Haechan blinked once. Then twice.
“Are you—fucking serious?!” he hissed.
Miyuki grimaced, shoving him back against the wall to keep him from accidentally peeking out. “Do I look like I’m joking?!”
He scrubbed a hand down his face, whisper-snarling, “Princess, we’re screwed. Like—royally screwed. What kind of partner gets me dragged into this kind of mess?!”
“The kind of partner who just saved your dumb ass from walking into the middle of a massacre,” she shot back.
Haechan kept his voice low, eyes darting between Miyuki and the street below. “What’s he doing here, then? What if he’s searching for you?”
Her stomach twisted at the thought, but she forced a steady glare at him. “He better not have come here for me.”
They didn’t linger. A few minutes later, they were crouched on the edge of a half-abandoned high-rise, the city sprawled beneath them. The night wind tugged at Miyuki’s hair as she held the binoculars to her eyes, scanning. Haechan, impatient, leaned close and tugged them from her grip.
“He doesn’t really have a reason to come here unless…” she muttered, watching as he adjusted the lenses. “…unless he has ties with NCT.”
Haechan snorted. “Nah. Not NCT. I would’ve known.”
He tilted the binoculars, tracking the yakuza leader’s entourage weaving through the streets like shadows. His expression shifted, tightening with thought. “You know who he could have ties with, though?”
Miyuki tore her gaze from the street to look at him. “Who?”
Haechan lowered the binoculars and smirked grimly. “White Tigers.”
Miyuki’s eyes widened, then narrowed in dawning understanding. She leaned back, pressing her lips together before nodding. “…I kind of see the ties.”
Haechan pointed at her like she’d just won a prize. “Right? They’ve got the same intense, bloodthirsty vibes. Zero chill.”
She rolled her eyes, but her voice was serious. “Why, though? What would they get out of it? You think they might be trying to overthrow NCT?”
For once, Haechan didn’t have a quip ready. He leaned his elbows on his knees, eyes narrowing at the scene below. “…I hope not. Because that just makes our job way more intense.”
Miyuki hummed, crossing her arms, her shoulders tense. “Yeah. And a hell of a lot more dangerous.”
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward for once—it was heavy, both of them staring out at the city with the weight of the possible storm ahead pressing down on them.
The sharp crack of a rifle shot split the night. The binoculars in Haechan’s hands exploded into shards, the force jolting through his fingers. Both of them hit the ground, rolling behind the rusted vent system.
“Haechan!” Miyuki hissed, panic flashing in her eyes.
“Fuck!” he spat, clutching his hand, thankful it wasn’t worse. “How the fuck did they find us?!”
They scrambled, knees scraping against the gravel rooftop, crawling toward the far side.
“I don’t know, but it gives me the creeps,” Miyuki muttered, scanning the skyline as bullets pinged against concrete.
Without hesitation, she pushed herself up, sprinted the last few steps, and launched herself off the rooftop. Haechan’s jaw dropped as she cleared the gap like it was nothing, landing in a roll on the adjacent building.
“Oh, hell nah!” he exclaimed, flattening himself against the ledge. “I can’t do that! Miyuki!”
She whipped around, her hair flying, and shouted across the gap. “Haechan, quick! Jump!”
“How the fuck do you expect me to do that?!” he yelled back, voice cracking as another bullet whizzed past, clipping the brick next to his head.
Miyuki ducked, cupping her hands around her mouth. “With your legs, genius!”
“These legs are for walking, not—fucking death leaps!”
“Then die here!” she shot back, already crouching low, scanning for the sniper’s next shot.
Haechan swore under his breath, bouncing on the balls of his feet, hyping himself up like he was about to bungee jump without a cord. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck—”
And then he launched himself off the building.
Haechan bolted forward, lungs burning, and leapt into the night. For one glorious second, he thought he had it—until his foot barely scraped the edge of the next building.
“Shit!”
His body slammed against the side, fingers just barely latching onto a rusted steel rod jutting out from the concrete. The impact rattled his bones, and his legs dangled uselessly over the dizzying drop below.
Miyuki’s eyes went wide as she skidded to the edge. “HAECHAN!!”
Her heart lurched violently in her chest at the sight of him, clinging on with white-knuckled desperation. The rod groaned ominously under his weight.
“Don’t you dare let go!” she shouted, panic threading through her usually sharp voice.
Haechan gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his temple. “You think I want to let go?!”
Another bullet cracked past, sparking against the metal beam above his head. He flinched violently.
Miyuki dropped flat on her stomach, arm stretching out toward him. “Grab my hand, now!”
“Oh sure, let me just—hold on—rewrite my will first!” he yelled, legs swinging as he tried to shift one hand higher. His boot slipped against the wall, sending a rock plummeting down into the abyss.
He forced his gaze up at her, his usual cocky grin replaced by genuine terror. “Princess, if I die, I’m haunting you forever!”
“You’re not dying, dumbass!” she snapped, stretching further, their fingers inches apart. “Now grab my damn hand!”
Haechan’s knuckles were turning white, every muscle in his arms trembling as he clung to the steel rod. His legs kicked uselessly against the wall, scraping his boots for traction.
From above, Miyuki’s panic sharpened into raw desperation. She slammed her palm against the concrete edge, leaning out as far as she could.
“HAECHAN!!” she screamed, voice cracking. “The fucking sniper is advancing toward us—grab my fucking hand!!”
“I’M TRYING!” he bellowed back, his voice breaking into a full-on panic scream. His other hand slipped, leaving him dangling by one arm. “THIS ISN’T A VIDEO GAME, MIYUKI—”
A bullet sparked against the wall, just inches from his dangling foot. He yelped like a kicked puppy. “—HOLY SHIT, I’M GONNA DIE!”
Miyuki’s heart hammered against her ribs. She reached down farther, veins straining in her arm. “No you’re not, dumbass! Just—grab me! Now!”
Haechan swung his free arm up wildly, fingertips barely brushing hers. His grip faltered, his body lurching downward another few inches.
“MIYUKI!” he screamed in terror, voice raw.
Her chest clenched, adrenaline spiking as she lunged forward, catching his wrist in a death grip. The momentum nearly dragged her off the roof too, her torso hanging over the ledge as she gritted her teeth.
“Got you!” she exclaims, her muscles burning as she fought to haul him up. “Now climb, you idiot! CLIMB!”
Behind her, the echo of boots pounding closer sent a chill down her spine—the sniper was coming.
Haechan finally scrambled over the ledge, collapsing onto the rooftop beside her. His chest heaved, sweat beading across his forehead as his lungs burned.
“Holy shit… holy shit, I almost died,” he panted, clutching his chest. “My soul literally left my body—”
Miyuki grabbed his arm, yanking him up. “Save the trauma dump for later—we need to move!”
They staggered toward the exit, but froze when a shadow emerged in front of them. The sniper stepped out of the darkness, rifle raised and aimed directly at their heads.
Haechan’s voice cracked as he whispered, “The fuck do we do?!” His eyes were still wide, pupils blown with fear.
Miyuki’s grip on his arm tightened, her jaw setting. “We fight.”
Before Haechan could process that, Miyuki darted forward. In one swift motion, she kicked the sniper’s rifle clean out of his hands, sending it clattering across the rooftop to the far corner.
The sniper snarled, lunging at her, but she met him head-on—blocking, countering, and landing sharp, efficient blows that made Haechan’s jaw drop.
He blinked, dumbfounded. “…Damn.”
He’d pegged her as sharp, quick-tongued, maybe dangerous with a gun. But this? This was something else entirely. She moved like she’d been born to fight.
Miyuki caught the sniper’s wrist, twisting it until he cried out, then slammed a knee into his chest. Over her shoulder, she shouted, “Help me, dumbass!”
Haechan snapped out of his daze, his stomach still tight with fear. “Oh—right, yeah!”
He rushed forward, grabbing the sniper’s arm as Miyuki swept his legs out from under him. The three of them went crashing to the ground in a mess of limbs and grunts.
Haechan locked the man’s arms behind his back, holding on as the sniper thrashed violently. “He’s stronger than he looks!”
Miyuki smirked breathlessly, pinning his legs with her weight. “Then hold tighter.”
—
The apartment was quiet, save for the occasional drip from the leaky tap and their ragged breathing. The two of them looked like they’d crawled through hell and back—bloodied, dirt-streaked, clothes ripped in half a dozen places.
They’d fought hard, landed solid blows, but the sniper had slipped through their fingers. Now, Haechan sat on the broken-down couch, wincing as Miyuki knelt in front of him. His pant leg was torn open, revealing the bullet wound in his thigh.
His hands gripped the cushions tightly. “You… you know how to do this, right?” he asked, his voice a mix of nerves and hope.
Miyuki didn’t even look up. “Of course. It’s like picking up sausages with the vegetable picker.”
Haechan’s face fell instantly. “…Oh no.”
She shot him a glare. “Stop being dramatic. I’ll have you know I come from a family of doctors.”
That made him blink. “Wait, seriously?”
“Mhm.” She reached for the tweezers, her tone far too casual for his comfort. “Now, this’ll be like popping a pimple… except instead of pus, it’s a bullet.”
Haechan slapped a hand over his face and groaned loudly. “WHY would you describe it like that?!”
Miyuki smirked, leaning closer to inspect the wound. “Because it’s true. Now hold still, or I’ll make it worse.”
He peeked at her between his fingers, eyes wide with dread. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
She raised a brow. “Maybe.”
He groaned again, flopping back against the couch. “If I die from this, I’m haunting you.”
“You already said that once tonight, dumbass. Now shut up and let me work.”
Haechan hissed as she probed the wound, muscles tensing every time her fingers brushed against the bullet.
“Ugh… careful!” he gritted out, teeth clenched.
Miyuki’s brow furrowed in concentration, ignoring his whining. With a final deft twist, she extracted the bullet, letting out a quiet sigh of satisfaction.
“Got it,” she muttered, reaching for a clean cloth and some tape to patch him up.
Haechan slumped back against the couch, wincing as she stitched and wrapped the wound tightly but efficiently. When she finally stepped back, he stared at the neat, secure dressing, impressed despite the lingering pain.
“Not bad,” he said quietly, a hint of genuine admiration in his voice.
Miyuki smirked, tilting her head. “Medical school dropout, actually.”
His jaw dropped. “…You’re telling me all that skill came from… dropping out?”
She shrugged, playful and confident. “Hey, talent can’t be taught.”
Haechan shook his head, letting out a slow breath, half in disbelief, half in awe. “Damn… princess, you’re terrifying.”
“I prefer competent,” she corrected with a grin, brushing her hair back.
He just chuckled, leaning back, still feeling the throb in his leg, but now with a little more respect—and a lot more wariness—toward the woman beside him.Miyuki sank onto her mattress, letting out a long, tired sigh. Haechan sprawled on his own, still wincing slightly from his leg. He turned his head toward her, voice low but sincere.
“You know… I really owe you my life,” he said, the words hanging in the dim, worn-down room.
Miyuki snorted without looking at him. “That’s so corny. You don’t have to owe me your life.”
“It’s basic knowledge,” he argued, wincing as he shifted slightly, “that if one saves another, he—or she—owes their life to the savior.”
She let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling onto her side. “Whatever floats your boat.”
Her eyes flicked to him, sharp and calculating despite her fatigue. “Since you’re injured, you should rest up for a while. Let me go alone and—”
Haechan shot up, groaning as he pressed a hand to his thigh. “You are not investigating alone. Today itself was way too dangerous!”
Miyuki rolled her eyes, her patience thinning but her tone calm. “I can actually get more work done alone. I saved you from potentially falling to your death—or succumbing to a bullet injury—you owe me your life, remember?”
Haechan flopped back against his mattress, letting out a breathy groan. “…Yeah, yeah, I remember. But that doesn’t mean I’m letting you go alone. Not today. Not ever.”
She tilted her head, smirking slightly despite herself. “You really like pretending to be heroic, don’t you?”
“Not pretending. Protecting you—that’s basic survival,” he said, eyes locking onto hers with a stubborn glint.
Miyuki’s lips twitched, half amused, half exasperated. “…Fine. But don’t think I’m letting you baby me either.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, leaning back, trying to ignore the ache in his leg, and the faint smile tugging at his lips.
—
The apartment was silent, save for the soft rhythm of Haechan’s deep sleep. Miyuki leaned over him, eyes scanning his face. Carefully, she clapped her hands once, then lightly banged on the wooden floor near his legs.
Nothing.
She smirked, shaking her head. “Power of antibiotics,” she muttered, adjusting the cloth over his wound one last time.
Quietly, she rose, moving to her gear. Guns loaded, silencer checked, extra magazines stashed. Every motion was precise, practiced—almost mechanical in its efficiency. She took a slow breath, listening to the faint hum of the city outside, then slipped into the night.
Haechan, as infuriating and insufferable as he could be, had one major flaw: he was fiercely protective. That meant she couldn’t risk waiting around while he nursed his injury. She made sure he’d taken all the strong painkillers and antibiotics—enough to knock him out solid until sunrise. No interruptions, no arguing.
The streets were empty, and the cool night air made her senses sharper. Her destination was one of the hideouts she and Haechan had uncovered days ago. Just as he had said, the place had laughably weak security—guards who were either asleep or too lazy to care, cameras easily bypassed.
Miyuki approached the side entrance, ears tuned for any sound. She slipped inside silently, every step calculated, body coiled like a predator. The stale scent of abandoned machinery and dust filled her nostrils, but she didn’t flinch.
Her hand hovered near the grip of her gun, eyes scanning each shadow. Every door, every corner, every potential hiding spot held a possible threat. She paused mid-step, listening: a faint scuff of a foot across the metal floor.
Instinctively, she pressed herself against a wall, breathing shallowly, letting the sound of her own heartbeat slow. Whoever—or whatever—was inside wouldn’t see her coming.
Miyuki pressed herself behind a stack of crates, eyes narrowing as she watched the small group of White Tigers gang members speaking quietly among themselves. Every word, every gesture, was potential gold. Internally, she fist-pumped. “Yes… major intel right here,” she thought, heart racing with adrenaline.
She leaned closer, listening intently, when suddenly—a deafening BOOM from outside rocked the building.
The gang members scattered, bolting toward the exits, leaving the hideout eerily empty. Miyuki stayed put, hands gripping the edge of a crate, trying to keep calm.
And then—
“What’d I miss??”
Her eyes went wide. Her jaw almost hit the floor. Haechan. Out of nowhere. Her whole body stiffened, and she nearly shrieked.
“…Haechan?! What the hell are you—”
Another explosion erupted inside the hideout, throwing dust and debris into the air. Miyuki whipped her head around, coughing. “What was that?!”
Haechan leaned casually against a nearby crate, smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the chaos. “Oh yeah… I planted some bombs for a diversion.”
Miyuki’s hands flew to her face. “YOU—”
But she didn’t get to finish. Both of them froze in an instant.
Their eyes met, wide with panic and disbelief, and then down at their hands—both sets of fingers trapped under a massive metal crate.
A flood of pain shot up their arms. They screamed, but it came out as strangled, broken sounds—the crate was too heavy for any real noise. Haechan’s face twisted in agony, teeth clenched, while Miyuki’s jaw trembled as she tried to tug free.
Every move just made the pain sharper. Both of them could only writhe in place, their bodies tense, faces contorted, both hands pinned beneath the unforgiving metal.
“…Fuuuuuuck,” Miyuki groaned through gritted teeth.
“Aaaahhhhhh!” Haechan added, his usual bravado completely gone, replaced with pure, ridiculous agony.
They tried to coordinate, but with both their hands trapped, neither could get leverage. The crate barely budged. Every second felt like hours, their groans echoing in the hollow warehouse.
And in the middle of it all, they were forced to just look at each other, caught between pain, frustration, and the absurdity of the situation.
Both of them strained against the crate, faces twisted in agony, eyes stinging with tears. The throbbing pain radiated up their arms and into their shoulders, each heartbeat sending fresh waves of torture through their trapped fingers.
And then…
“Huh?”
Miyuki’s head snapped up, and Haechan blinked through the blur of pain to see the sniper from that day standing just a few feet away, arms crossed, tilting his head at them like they were the weirdest puzzle he’d ever encountered.
Too exhausted and overwhelmed, Haechan croaked, his voice hoarse and strained: “G-get the crate… off… our hands… please…”
The otter-like sniper regarded them with a blank, almost confused expression. Then he spoke in Japanese, his words clear, deliberate.
“Why would I?”
Haechan’s blood ran cold, and he let out a choked, panicked cry, glancing frantically at Miyuki.
“What the fuck is he saying—ahhh!” he screamed, the pain slicing through every word.
Miyuki’s hands throbbed, tears streaking her face. She clenched her jaw, trying to ground herself as Haechan’s voice cracked beside her.
The crate didn’t move. The sniper didn’t move. And in that instant, both of them realized just how completely helpless they were—fighting pain, fear, and the absurdity of being at the mercy of someone who clearly found the scene entertaining.
Haechan’s scream merged with hers in a symphony of frustration and agony, their bodies trembling as the warehouse seemed to shrink around them.
Miyuki’s breath came in short, shaky bursts, the pain making her whole body tremble. Her fingers were on fire, her vision blurred with tears, but she forced her head up to look at the sniper.
In halting Japanese, she gasped out between pants of pain: “Get it off! Please—eeekhhk…” her voice cracked as she grit her teeth. Then, eyes darting to the floor, she pushed out the lie. “Do you even realise what you’re standing on? That crate—it’s rigged. You move, it explodes. We’re the only ones who can help you disarm it.”
The sniper blinked, his head tilting slightly as he glanced down at the crate, suspicion flickering across his sharp features.
Haechan, meanwhile, turned his teary, blotchy face to Miyuki, barely able to form words. “Wha—what the fuck did you just say to him?!”
She didn’t dare look at Haechan, just kept her eyes locked on the sniper, every nerve in her body screaming. “If you don’t get this off us… you’re dead too.”
The sniper’s grip on his rifle tightened, his brows furrowed as he shifted uneasily, clearly not fully convinced but definitely rattled. He crouched slightly, eyes flicking from the crate to their trapped hands to Miyuki’s tear-stained face.
“…You’re bluffing,” he muttered in Japanese, voice low but uncertain.
Miyuki’s lips trembled with both pain and determination. “Try me.”
Another wave of agony shot through her fingers, making her cry out involuntarily, which only made her claim sound more believable. Haechan looked at her in wide-eyed panic, completely lost but somehow clinging to her lie for dear life.
The sniper hesitated, uncertainty flashing in his eyes before his nerves got the better of him. With a sharp grunt, he bent down and heaved the metal crate off their hands.
The moment their fingers were freed, both Miyuki and Haechan let out strangled cries of relief. They yanked their hands back instantly, blowing on their swollen, throbbing fingers as tears streaked their faces.
“Ahhh—holy shit, holy shit—” Haechan babbled, shaking his hands violently like that would ease the pain. Miyuki pressed her fingers to her lips, wincing so hard her whole face scrunched.
Before the sniper could process what just happened, they were already on their feet, bolting for the exit, pain be damned.
“O-Oi!” the sniper shouted in Japanese, eyes wide, but by the time he moved, they had already disappeared into the night.
—
They didn’t stop until they stumbled into a nearby park, collapsing against the benches and trees. Both of them immediately burst out into a symphony of half-screams, half-cries as they jumped around in pain, clutching their abused fingers.
“Ahhhhhh!!” Haechan yowled, stomping his foot only to regret it instantly as pain shot up his already injured leg.
“Ehhhhhhh!!” Miyuki whined, shaking her hands furiously. She doubled over, groaning.
Haechan slumped onto the bench, his face pale, his breaths shallow. “I—I feel lightheaded…”
Miyuki, still in agony, shot him a sharp look. “Of course you do! You already got an injury, you’re on painkillers, and you injured yourself again—what did you expect?!”
He whimpered, clutching his leg and his hands at the same time. “We—we need to go to a hospital…”
Miyuki groaned, her entire body trembling. “Ughhh, no… we can’t risk exposure. But… dammit, this hurts too much.”
Both of them sat there, rocking in pain like kids who’d just burned their tongues, their misery filling the empty park in pitiful harmony.
By the time they staggered out of the hospital, the night air felt colder, sharper—almost mocking. Their steps were slow, their bodies slouched in defeat, exhaustion weighing them down more than their plastered hands.
The treatment had been hell. Neither of them had screamed so much in their lives, and that was saying something. Every snap, every adjustment, every press of cold plaster was torture. In all their years of fieldwork, neither had ever felt so much pain condensed into one endless night.
Miyuki glanced down at her hands, the last three fingers of both wrapped neatly in plaster. Awkward, but survivable. She flexed them slightly and hissed. “Not even the deep scar on my abdomen hurt that bad…” she muttered under her breath, voice hoarse.
Beside her, Haechan walked like a ghost, both hands completely mummified in white plaster, dangling helplessly at his sides. His face was blank, eyes glazed over in pure shock.
Miyuki blinked at him, realizing. “…Oh my god. All ten?”
He didn’t even look at her, just whispered numbly, “I can’t feel my hands.”
Miyuki snorted, then winced because laughing hurt. “Great. Just great. We’re supposed to be taking down criminal organizations, and now we look like we just lost a brawl with a vending machine.”
Haechan slowly turned his head toward her, still expressionless. “…A vending machine would’ve been kinder.”
That was it—Miyuki broke into hysterical laughter that sounded half like sobs, doubling over as she cradled her broken hands. Haechan, miserable and numb, stood beside her like a statue, both of them the very definition of utter defeat.
The streets were quiet as Miyuki and Haechan trudged along, both of them plastered up, broken, and completely defeated. The only sound was the shuffle of their shoes against the pavement—until a sharp voice cut through the silence.
“Oi! You fooled me!”
Both of them froze. The sniper stood at the end of the road, eyes blazing, his rifle slung across his shoulder.
Haechan stared at him blankly, face still pale and void of emotion. Slowly, he turned his head toward Miyuki, who just stared at the sniper like he’d crawled out of a nightmare.
Then, in Japanese, Miyuki snapped, pointing at the sniper with her casted hand. “You… this is all your fault!”
The sniper blinked, confusion flashing across his face. “…Eh?”
Haechan’s brows furrowed, looking between the two of them like he’d missed five whole episodes of drama. “What the hell did you just say to him?”
Miyuki whipped her head toward Haechan, eyes wild. “This is all his fault!” she shouted in Korean this time, her voice sharp.
Haechan’s eyes widened, realization slamming into him. If the sniper hadn’t attacked them in the first place… he never would’ve gotten shot. Miyuki never would’ve had to sneak out alone. He never would’ve followed her. And the two of them never, ever would’ve gotten their fingers smashed under that godforsaken crate.
All because of this one smug bastard.
Haechan’s plastered hands twitched uselessly at his sides, his jaw tightening. “…You’re right. This is all his fault.”
Miyuki turned back to the sniper, fury and exhaustion blazing in her eyes. The sniper, however, just stood there, looking completely lost as these two broken, plastered agents blamed him for a spiral of chaos he couldn’t begin to understand.
Miyuki and Haechan exchanged a look, both plastered hands twitching uselessly at their sides. Then, without another word, they both charged.
It wasn’t graceful. At all.
Miyuki barreled forward with stiff little stomps, her arms flopping awkwardly in their casts, while Haechan sort of half-limped, half-hopped, yelling like a kid about to belly-flop into a pool.
“YAAAHHHHH!”
The sniper blinked once—just once—before both of them slammed into him like a pair of angry penguins. They didn’t really hurt him, but the sheer absurdity of it left him flailing, trying to peel off two injured agents clawing at his jacket with plastered fingers.
“Ow—stop! What are you—?!” he yelped in Japanese, stumbling back.
Finally, Miyuki stepped away, panting and glaring up at him. “Tell me your name!” she demanded like a school bully.
The sniper stiffened, fear flashing across his face. “S-Shotaro! Osaki Shotaro!” he blurted.
Haechan, still clinging to him, grinned wickedly through his exhaustion. “Congratulations, Osaki Shotaro. You’ve pledged your allegiance to us now. From this moment forward… you’re our slave.”
Miyuki smirked, nodding firmly.
Shotaro blinked. “...Eh?”
“Go haul us a taxi!” Haechan barked, collapsing dramatically onto the ground. “I’m tired! I can’t feel my hands! I can’t move!”
Miyuki crossed her arms with as much dignity as a plastered woman could muster. “Yeah, slave. Make yourself useful.”
Shotaro just stood there, utterly baffled, staring down at the two most ridiculous, broken, terrifying people he’d ever met in his life.
Shotaro sat ramrod straight in the backseat of the taxi, eyes wide, hands glued nervously to his knees. His whole body screamed get me out of here—but the two beside him made that impossible.
On his left, Haechan had slumped against the window, mouth slightly open, snoring like an old man. His plastered hands twitched in his sleep every so often, like he was dreaming of strangling someone.
On his right, Miyuki had tilted her head back, lips parted, dozing lightly with the kind of half-alert nap only agents could manage. Even in her sleep, her broken fingers twitched like they were ready to strangle someone too.
Shotaro sat between them like a hostage trapped in a fever dream.
The taxi driver glanced at the rearview mirror, eyebrow raised. “Tourists?”
Shotaro’s face paled. “...Something like that.”
As the cab bumped along the road, Shotaro’s inner monologue screamed. What the hell am I doing here? I’m supposed to be the predator, the sniper, the feared otter of the underworld! Instead—I’m sandwiched between two plaster-handed lunatics who fight like children and bully me into calling taxis. I would rather kill myself than—
Miyuki suddenly shifted, her head almost falling on his shoulder. Shotaro went stiff as a board, holding his breath.
Haechan snorted in his sleep, mumbling, “...Slave Shotaro… get me… ramen…” before drooling on the window.
Shotaro’s eye twitched. He stared ahead blankly.
Yep. I’m going to die. But not by bullet, blade, or bomb. By sheer stupidity.
❀ In those moments of uncertainty, when you don't even know if all your efforts aren't just a waste, Haechan decides to stick with it. Even if everyone has seemed to lose hope and he may be starting to lose hope as well...
He aimlessly traced patterns on her palm all the way to the centre of her hand trying to drown out the conversation outside the room. He really did not want to eavesdrop, but it wasn’t like he had the choice. The shouts were drilling into his ears like an unwelcome guest forcing their way in.
“As her grandmother I feel like I have the right to have her near before I won’t be able to see her at all!”
“Oh! Now you want to step up and be a grandmother? After shunning me for marrying a foreigner! You wanted nothing to do with me or my family and now we want nothing to do with you!”
“How do you know she doesn’t want me in her life? The whole reason she is in this hospital is because you made her feel unwanted!”
Haechan closed his eyes as if that would help him block the discussion. When that didn’t seem to work he let his gaze fall on Jiho. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully. Too peaceful to Haechan’s liking, but he couldn’t do anything about it.
“Eomma, I know I messed up as Jiho’s mother, but– I want her to be with her family in France. If… if she doesn’t wake up, I want her to be with the people she loves.” Jiho’s mother pleaded with her own mother.
“And what about her members?”
“Do not act like you care about them! This is only about you. You want to seem like a great grandmother, but you couldn’t even be a good mother.”
Jiho’s grandmother scoffed, almost amused at her daughter’s words. “Seems like we have a thing in common after all-”
“Just leave! Jiho’s coming to France with me and her dad and that’s that!”
Although it sounded like that’s where the conversation would end, the mother and daughter pair continued to shout at each other. Haechan could hear the nurses come by multiple times and try to get them to quiet down, but the two were in their own world and didn’t pay any mind to anyone else. Luckily Jiho’s room was in a more private sector of the hospital and despite the noise, Jiho’s mother and grandmother weren’t causing too big of a disturbance.
Resting his head on Jiho’s shoulder, Haechan continued to absentmindedly trace patterns on Jiho’s palm. He made sure not to put too much weight on Jiho’s shoulder or hand, but enough to let her unconscious body know he was there.
“I’m sorry you have to hear them fighting…” He mumbled tiredly. With a quick glance up, he saw the clock nearing the end of the visiting hour. “I wish they could stop as well.”
As if in response to his words, Jiho’s hand softly twitched. Her fingers tensed slightly, making the motion as if closing her hand into a fist before they relaxed again and returned to their normal state.
This movement would have Haechan jumping up, his heart rate would quicken, he’d be speechless before yelling for a nurse or doctor causing a whole commotion in this part of the hospital. If it was the first time he definitely would’ve done those things. He would’ve because he did. A bit over a week ago, that same exact thing happened. Those same exact movements happened and then he did those same exact things. Now, almost two weeks passed and Haechan knew he shouldn’t be excited to see her hand move. Sure, it gave him some hope, but after the fifth time, Haechan knew this wasn’t a sign of her waking up. It just was a sign she was still alive and at least not getting worse. She wasn’t getting much better either.
A hand suddenly appeared on Haechan’s shoulder and his gaze shot up to meet the green eyes that resembled Jiho’s so well. Jiho’s father — adoptive, not biological — looked at him with a soft yet sad smile. He eyed the clock and Haechan gave him an understanding nod.
The idol gathered his things and walked towards the door before stopping at the sound of Jiho’s father’s voice. “Thanks for continuing to come as often as you can…”
Haechan’s English wasn’t perfect but he understood enough to get the gist of his words. These past few weeks Jiho’s father often said a few words whenever seeing Haechan at Jiho’s side. Even when Haechan didn’t fully understand, he always felt the gratitude the father held for Haechan’s actions.
“I know the others are slowly losing hope… I can imagine it must be just as hard for you to stay hopeful as it is for me and my wife, but we thank you for visiting still. Whatever happens to Jiho… she will know you were there for her. She might not be able to say it, but I know she knows.”
A few heavy moments passed after he said that before Haechan responded with a quiet nod. That was enough for the father as he turned away, trying not to show the emotion in his eyes. He turned to his daughter, sitting next to her and fixing the stuffed animal Haechan had gifted her to sit snugly under her arm. Haechan couldn’t make out what he started whispering to Jiho — it was probably in French anyway — so he decided to make his way out of the hospital room.
It was almost funny how now that Haechan was in the hallway where the two women were still bickering and yelling at each other, Haechan couldn’t hear a single word. They were so loud when he was in another room, but now that he was in the same space, it was absolutely quiet. He bowed at them without much thought and intention behind it before leaving. The two women barely noticed Haechan go as they continued to yell loudly at each other. Still Haechan didn’t hear. He wished Jiho didn’t have to hear it either.
genre : small coastal town romance. first love. fluff. pining. suggestive. angst.
warnings : short and more of a filler chapter. haechan does make a little appearance but this chapter is more of an insight in their family dynamic.
summary : is first love meant to be the way it is for the town's golden boy and everybody's baby angel?
word count : 1.3k
taglist : @nshitae
main masterlist
previous chapter : chapter two
It was a brand new day, and it had already started with sunrise. Your Mum, specifically. It was her annual, once in a full moon day off and she was celebrating it the way she always did. Initially, undoubtedly with a good mood.
This good mood however was mostly at your own expense…
“Mum, stop already!” You plead, trying to squeeze in between her too excited demeanour and hard kitchen bench.
“Oh c’mon, give me the goss. I've been waiting for a free day for weeks,” She pleads back, twirling in her dressing gown and pyjamas. Granted, she is the happiest she’s been in a few months, sleeping in an extra two hours and making herself breakfast, “I feel like I need gossip to function right now. So make it good.”
“I told you already,” You rolled your eyes, as your Mum bends to fill the dishwasher up with your Dad’s dirty dishes, “He told me to meet up with him, I did and it went alright. A bit awkward and I was nervous but…yeah”
Your Mum looks from her chore to see you duck your head with a lovestruck little smile that completely overtakes your whole face.
“More than alright it seems, he has you in googles and googly-ga-gaa over him,” She snorts, “Wanna watch a movie with me? I’m going to be all alone and I want to spend it with my daughter.”
A part of you wants to groan, because this is when your mother wants to steal all the details over your failed little flirtation with Haechan and the other half realises she’s just offered you a way out of a mock exam….
The same part knows your mother has moments like this where she forgets you’re a school student and if you cared more about attendance like Yunjin you wouldn’t accept any offer she makes. Wouldn’t even consider it. But you’re not Yunjin, because you slid right next to your mother to see what movie she chose with your school uniform still on.
You figure it’s everything to do with the fact you don’t get to see your parents much. Your mother usually works late nights with her rest to work ratio being completely imbalanced. Coming home with a stiff neck and low tolerance for children and the like. Your father, similarly, is working hard towards a promotion at work that will end in his salary potentially being tripled. You worry that the wind will change and he’ll be stuck with a hunched neck from working business.
Despite this, they maintain their duties to being your parent. Your Dad often taking you out on weekends or roping you into an evening trip to a takeaway shop more than an hour away to sneak in bonding time. Mum in comparison using her sick days or break opportunities to relax and unwind, you more often than not, by her side.
By the time the sequel to ‘Bridget Jones’ Diary’ begins, you leave to change out of your school uniform, opting for a more comfortable fit and sending a quick text to the group chat explaining your absence.
“Shall I make pancakes?” Your Mum wonders, feeling peckish and with sugar cravings that could make a diabetic faint. You nod, incredibly entranced, “Can I get a thank you?”
You lock eyes with your mother, smiling with teeth before refocusing on the movie and the awkward yet lovable main character, “Thanks. Love you.”
Your Mum sighs, whipping the mixture half asleep and buttering the pan. She pulls out her phone to send your Dad evidence of the simplistic yet precious lunch she plates, her creative juices sparking when she brings out all sorts of toppings. She cuts the bananas, fills the little teapot with maple syrup and then halves a lemon. She does it all.
Feeling less entertained by the movie currently, you watch as your Mum plates up the pancakes, smirking at the way your Mum presents it all on a little lazy susan. Feeling a little mischievous you send your Dad a text with a photo of the two of you and the small picnic in between.
Your Dad texts almost immediately.
Betrayal! My lawyers will be hearing about this-
You can hear your Dad’s voice just from reading the text and it makes you snort so loudly your mother almost has a heart attack.
Just kidding. Really am jealous though. Will be home late today x hope SOMEONE enjoys their day off.
Hang on
Aren’t you supposed to be at school today?
Your mouth fills with air as your lips clamp shut at the incriminating question before turning your phone facedown on the bench immediately.
“Dad says he’s jealous,” You comment, cutting through your first pancake greedily.
“He should be, I did good,” Your Mum compliments herself, and then she giggles at the way you send her a lowkey judgemental look, “Say if you had to choose between Donghyuck or pancakes what would you pick?”
You roll your eyes, collecting your plate off the bench before moving towards the paused TV to continue watching the movie. Your mother’s spurts of laughter follow after you.
“Ha ha,” You deadpan, which sends her into another fit of laughter, a kind she tries to bury only for her cheeks to swell like a balloon as she fails to contain her giggles.
The whole day is spent like that. With food to share between the two of you. Your bodies flying like feathers as past days evaporate into the sky. Laughter and teasing. More teasing. Teasing about your crush on the golden boy, Lee Donghyuck. Sporting hero. Your town’s pride. The one going places.
You almost combust when the aforementioned boy appears on your doorstep with a small care package that took him a good hour to orchestrate together, along with your two friends who already suspect that you ditched school for a reason that’s not illness but rather because your Mum was home.
They don’t have the heart to say anything to him though. Ultimately deciding to encourage him instead. If he has already gone to such lengths, he wouldn’t mind the effort? So they exaggerate. Jeno is sure that they described the symptoms of bubonic plague, but he decides to keep that tidbit of information a secret.
It’s when you open the door, with a healthy glow and no hives in sight, does he start to feel like an idiot. A godforsaken big idiot.
“Oh,” He mutters, holding out the bag awkwardly, “I got you a care package… I thought you were sick?”
Your nose scrunches, and if you weren’t so embarrassed yourself, you wouldn’t have let how cute he is go.
“I’m not sick,” You deny, tucking your hair behind your ear, “My Mum’s home from work so I’m spending the day with her.”
“Lucky,” He mutters, “We had a test today.”
“I know,” You whisper conspiratorially back. Your smile grows as he looks at you with a dumbfounded look.
“And you didn’t think to invite me? Huh?” He’s joking with you, expression bright and soft.
“Next time, I promise, I will,” You pout, holding out your hand. He holds out his own hand to loop your pinky finger with his, and from his touch alone your whole body is warm. Be it your own opinion, but you can attest that Haechan is blessed with the sun’s kiss so much that he has never been cold a day in his life. He’s like a furnace.
He peers down at his phone, reading the time before locking eyes with you again, “I’ve got to go to training now.”
You don’t want him to go, and by his expression it doesn’t look like he wants to leave either.
“Hope you’re ‘feeling better’ tomorrow,” He sends his regards with his hands shaped like bunny ears and he smiles when you reward him with your own.
“Should be.”
“Cool.”
Then he’s off and again, you’re completely blown away with him. His smile. His laugh. His warmth. His fucking face.
Warnings: Haechan is a little mean, mentions of toxic and abusive relationship (please don't read or interact if you're uncomfortable)
Notes: this is Haechan's part of 'nct dream as love tropes', enjoy!
You first got to know Haechan through Renjun, and truth be told, you never really liked the guy. He was too loud, too much of a jokester and just loved to get on everyone’s nerves for laughs. You had no idea why a guy like Renjun would even have someone like Haechan as a friend. You tried to keep a distance between you and Haechan since you didn’t have the best impression of him. But he caught on pretty fast and instead of accepting the fact that not everyone had to be his friend, he almost made it his purpose in life to annoy the shit out of you. To Haechan, if you didn’t want to be his friend, then he’d gladly be your enemy. He doesn’t try to break your friendship with Renjun or anything (he isn’t actually evil) but he would make sure to give you a hard time whenever you’re around.
You like studying with the guys because they were all always really willing to help you when you struggle with work. With the exception of Haechan, it’s like he was there only to make sure you felt worse about yourself. “Mark, can you help me with this?” “Oh yeah, of course.” And Haechan would lean over to look at the question you need help with only to chuckle. “What’s so funny?” “You can’t even solve that? Are you stupid?” “You’re an asshole.” “Oh, I know.” And Renjun would hit his head with a pen, “Enough, you literally failed Math too.” Your eyes widened and you retorted, “The audacity to call me stupid when you did worse than me.” “Okay, who cares?! I’m improving!”
Haechan never misses the chance to tease you. And even though you know he usually doesn’t mean any harm, you simply hate it. “Wow, your hair looks different today… Who are you trying to impress?” “You can never just compliment me without trying to get on my nerves can you?” “Me? Complimenting you? Dream on~” He said before he ruffled your hair and ran away, messing up the braids you spent all morning getting right, “HEY! You- GET BacK HERE!”
But you’ve never hated Haechan more than today. You never knew he could be this nosy nor this aggravating.
You have your hood on as you walk into school in the summer heat and you walk briskly with your head down, hoping to reach class as quickly as possible. You’re turning the corner when you bump into someone’s shoulder, you look up to apologise when you realise it was none other than Lee Haechan.
“Watch where you’re going man.” “Fuck off.” “Damn… why so pissy today?” Haechan only grows intrigued and shuffles to block your way as you try to walk away. You keep your head down as you shoved your way past him. “Hey, I was talking to you,” he said as he pulled your hood off, you panicked and scurrily pulls it back on, trying to hide your face. “Don’t do that!” “Why are you even wearing a hoodie anyway, it’s literally so hot today.” “It’s none of your business.” Haechan only pulls your hood again to push your buttons when he finally spots it. And you can tell he saw it because the usual smug grin he wears is wiped off his face.
“Why do you have a bruise on your cheek? What happened?” “Nothing,” you say as you attempt to walk away again, only for Haechan to pull you in the opposite direction and into the janitor’s room.
“Let go of me, you-” “Who did that to you?” “I fell.” “Do you think I’m stupid? Don’t lie to me.” You’ve never seen Haechan so serious before except that one time the boys were debating about if we have one butt or two butts. He adorns a frown on his face and his eyes never leave your face, as if scanning to make sure you’ll tell him the truth. “It’s your new boyfriend isn’t it?” “N-no…” “Did he hit you?” “No, he didn’t. It was just an accident, okay?” “Break up with him.” You stare at Haechan like he’s crazy. “If he’s hurting you, you have to leave him.” “I told you it was an accident. Why do you care so much anyways?” “Oh, is it a CRIME now to be a decent human being?” “Whatever.” You say as you try to leave the room. “Don’t be stupid, if he really did that… If he’s really hurting you, you and I both know it’s not going to be the last time.” You glare at him, you’re so angry you can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Haechan has no idea what your relationship is like and has no right to tell you what to do. “For the last time, it was an accident. If you can do one nice thing for me today, I would love it if you could just leave me alone.” You tell him with gritted teeth and walk out of the janitor’s room, slamming the door behind you.
Haechan doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the day and you don’t try to interact too much with anyone, other than Renjun. Afterall, he’s the only one who knows the truth. Your boyfriend has really poor control over his anger and when you two would have a small disagreement, it could turn nasty really quickly. He has a habit of throwing things and this time, when he was busy throwing stuff around to vent his anger, something flew and hit you right on your cheek. That’s what caused the bruising, he never tried to hurt you. Your boyfriend loves you, he’ll never do anything to hurt you on purpose.
“What did y’all even fight about this time? Why did he have to throw it at you?” Renjun asked as he gently spread the medical cream on your cheek. “He’s just having a hard time recently…” Renjun only sighs, he’s worried and he hates your boyfriend at this point but nothing really gets through to you. So all he can do is support you emotionally and look out for you in ways he could. “Please… if it gets bad, you can’t stay y/n. It’s not safe.” “I’m fine, I know how to handle him.”
You don’t join the boys to study after school today, all you want to do is go home and sleep these conflicting feelings away, so you do. And when Haechan and Renjun are alone, waiting for the other guys to arrive after their classes, Haechan almost explodes. “You knew about y/n’s boyfriend and you’re not doing anything about it?” “I have no idea what you’re taking about…” Haechan only scoffs, “I saw you helping her with the bruise.” Renjun is searching his mind for another excuse. “Don’t try lying for her, I already saw it.” “What am I supposed to do anyway? She doesn’t listen and she likes him so much…” “Why don’t we jump the guy?” “You’re crazy, have you seen him? Even if we got the guys involve, we might lose.” “So you’re leaving y/n to fend for herself? She’s smaller than all of us.” “He’s not hitting her,” Renjun starts but Haechan doesn’t even give him a chance. “Not yet, no matter what, she already got hurt. That’s bad enough…” Haechan has his hands in his hair and Renjun eyes him carefully.
“Wait… why are you so stressed? I thought you hated her.” “You’re not worried?” “Of course I am, but this is a first for you.” Haechan ruffles his own hair in frustration, “I just have such a bad feeling about this… and contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually hate her.” The rest of the boys soon arrive and Renjun makes Haechan promise not to tell anyone. So he keeps quiet, he knows it’s not his place to expose you like that but he never stopped thinking about you for the rest of the day.
The two of you never got along well but realising your situation changed something in him. He teased you less and quietly looked out for you more, the lack of bruises on you eases him. Damn it, even a smile from you now just makes him feel more at peace. Right now, his purpose had changed. It didn’t matter if you still aren’t fond of him, Haechan just wanted to protect you.
It was like deja vu, Haechan was always one to reach school early. It wasn’t like he loved attending lessons or anything. He simply enjoyed being the first to be in the empty classroom, having some time to himself before the school day officially starts. Moreover, he loved getting his breakfast from the canteen and indulging in it without his mother rushing him like she does at home. He just dropped his bag off at his seat and was even whistling on his way out to order his breakfast when he bumped into someone.
“Oh, sorry I-” but he couldn’t even bring himself to finish his sentence when he looks down and is met with your teary eyes, your face adorning a bruise bigger than the previous one from a few weeks ago. Haechan wanted to say anything to break the silence but he couldn’t even bring himself to speak. What could he say to make you feel better? He was never one to be too kind with his words. You broke the silence first, “H-he hit me.” Haechan could hear his heart shatter. He has never seen you like this. Eyes filled with tears, lips quivering. Your arms wrapped across your chest, almost as if you’re trying to comfort yourself. Even now, he could tell you’re trying to hold back your tears. You might have been small in size but you were always feisty, strong, would not let anyone mess with you. Almost instinctively Haechan pulled you into a gentle hug, patting your shoulder, still thinking of what to say and having nothing else except, “I’m sorry.”
You finally allowed yourself to cry, with Haechan’s body shielding you, you let your emotions go. Haechan didn’t even mind if you were staining his uniform with your tears, he continued patting your shoulder, whispering things like “you’re okay”, “you’re safe” until you calmed down. After that Haechan ran to get his breakfast and even got a set for you as well.
“What do I do now?” you ask after a few moments of silence. Haechan replies with his mouth stuff with bread, “Just fucking leave him, what else do you want to do?” You glance up at him, “But I-” “No, y/n please… You know what’s the right thing to do.” “I’m scared…” Haechan reaches out to put his hand over yours, “You’ll be fine, and I’ll be here. Promise.”
So you did, both Renjun and Haechan sat by you while you broke up with your boyfriend over text that very afternoon. He didn’t take it very well but it doesn’t matter. He even had the audacity to reply, sending you nasty words and insults. Haechan wanted to call him and give him a piece of his mind but Renjun had to tell him not to make matters worse.
From that day on, you were terrified to walk home alone, fearing that your ex would come looking to confront you. So Haechan took it upon himself to accompany you. It was really strange at first since you two were never really close. But you were grateful for him. If he wasn’t so nosy, things might have gotten a lot worse. Haechan still pisses you off from time to time but it’s all just banter. The talks you have while Haechan walks you home made you realise that Haechan isn’t that big of an asshole. That he actually has a mature bone in him, that he cares a lot about those around him, he’s smart and witty. He never fails to make you laugh, even if it comes with teasing.
Eventually, it went from walking you home to watching dramas with you in your living room. Or hanging out and studying in your bedroom. After a couple of months, your mum even invited him to dinner. By then, Haechan whines whenever he has to leave you. “Come on, we’ll see each other tomorrow.” You tell him as he refuses to stop hugging you, “That’s like 10 hours away from you…” “Exactly, that’s less than a day, Haechan.” “Haechan? It’s baby to you, I don’t go by Haechan anymore.” “Stop, I’m not used to it yet…” Haechan finally pulls away just so he can look at you getting all shy.
At some point in time, it was obvious to the both of you that you two very quickly crossed from being enemies, to frenemies, to friends and over to something more. So after being invited to dinner, Haechan confessed to you that very night. And that was it. Nothing much changed really, he still teases you to no end. And you bite back at his comments just as quickly. But now, you two just hold hands and hug from time to time. You two never officially told your friends yet but you’re both sure Renjun already caught on.
Watching you get all shy from his previous comment has Haechan melting and he decides to let you off for now. “Alright, I’ll leave now… I’ll be back in exactly 10 hours!” You laugh at his cheeky expression and jokingly pretend to chase him out of your house. But deep down, you can’t wait to see him again the next morning. He is finally out your door and he gives you one last hug before he leaves, you wave him goodbye until you can’t see him anymore, reminding him to text you when he gets home safely.
[9:15pm] my super cool bf <3: i’m home baby
[9:15pm] my super cool bf <3: i’ll come pick you up again tmr, we can walk to school together!
[9:16pm] you: good, rest well baby
[9:16pm] you: i miss you already
[9:16pm] my super cool bf <3: now you call me baby… but i miss you too T-T
fearful, you couldn't sleep from the random rummaging that came from the outside of your house. your parents weren't around due to business trip whatever.
you know yourself a scaredy-cat so why would you check it out? you fear the dark that's why your little pastel lamp is always turned on at night. you hate being alone in a domicile despite your age.
your thick blanket was wrapped around your body as if it's a shield and only the shape of your face could be seen.
suddenly, you heard someone's voice. aggressive and sounds irritated. however, that tone somehow is familiar to you, but you're too scared to think of anyone from that moment and continued pretending to sleep (yet shaking slightly).
"ms. y/l/n-" his word was cut off when you screamed loud and throwing him a heavy pillow which landed directly on his stomach, "ouch that hurts" the guy sarcastically reacted and stepped forward towards you with normal pace.
when you heard the voice, you immediately opened your tightly shut eyes, gasped softly, and jumped from your bed like a grasshopper.
with a big smile, you jumped on his arms twirling in the process. "hyuck! you're here" you almost cried overwhelmed at his sudden appearance from disappearing for fucking 3 days saying that 'they have a family reunion happening in jeju, his hometown'.
but no, donghyuck was actually on a road(?) trip with his gang "dream", leaving their girlfriends alone with the white lies just to bond again.
"you were gone for days hyuckie and my parents left since yesterday for business trip, i was alone" you mumbled on his clothed chest where his heart you tamed was beating.
he cooed at you and pulled you into your bed, you on top of him with hands intertwined as of not wanting each other to let go. his leather jacket not being able to warm up his flaming love for you.
"why didn't you call up your cousin hanni? she could've accompanied your lonely life" donghyuck chuckled lightly at the offense he said and you raised your head to deadpan on him, pinching his side as you did so making him exclaim a cute 'ah!'.
"she have to study for her entrance exam for college while i still have to study the last quarter exam for eleventh grade argh..." you grumbled a bit as you shook your head.
donghyuck caressed your back continuously, calming you, giving you the warmth and protection you deserve. second by second, you felt sleepy from his action. you nuzzled your head to his neck inhaling his peony, rose, and lychee scent.
and so, you fell asleep with donghyuck's arms wrapped around you and your blanket covering both your lower bodies.
