#hanbin fics

EXPLICIT 18+ SMUT WARNINGS: gyuvin: penetrative sex (gyuvin penetrating reader), a little degredation never hurt nobody; hanbin: penetrative sex (hanbin penetrating reader), just a teeeeensy bit of degredation idk i was in a mood. some angst and lottttts of swearing and inappropriate jokes. may the best man win!!

in every direction hanbin turns, he’s surrounded. 

by sex-havers. 

matthew is watching a tiktok on his phone with taerae in the corner. gunwook (who recently made it official with the new barista at the coffee shop down the street) is helping jiwoong and ricky with one of the more complicated moves of the choreography for zb1’s upcoming single release. hao is sprawled out on the floor, studying the lyrics for the entire EP.

disgusting, hanbin thinks. depraved sinners who have no self-control. 

how badly he wishes to be them. if it was physically possible, hanbin would be turning green. and, while we’re on the subject, hanbin did, in fact, end up seeing wicked: for good with hao, and they did, in fact, fight about which one of them was glinda and which one of them was elphaba well into the night.

jealousy festers in hanbin like an infection. he’s never felt rage come on so easily in his life as he has the past week or so. the pent-up testosterone is really doing a number on him. he’s frightened himself on several occasions with how much some of his fleeting thoughts have sounded like a rise-and-grind, alpha bro podcaster and not himself.

these feeble, fragile creatures, hanbin thinks as he watches the sex-havers exist in ignorant bliss. giving into their animalistic desires. if they’re such animals, i wonder how easily i could kill—

“ah, hyung!” gyuvin says, appearing suddenly right in front of hanbin as if by magic. he’s holding an ice cream bar and smiling. “whatcha dooooooin’?”

“jesus,” hanbin breathes, his hand flying up to grip his chest. “you fucking scared me.”

gyuvin smiles wider. “hyung, i’ve never heard you swear so much.”

“if you don’t wipe that fucking grin off your—,” hanbin starts to threaten, but gyuvin suddenly shoves a second ice cream bar between his lips before he can finish. 

“eat this,” gyuvin says, taking hanbin’s hand and wrapping it around the stick of the ice cream bar. “it’ll take the edge off.”

hanbin takes in the flavor, realizing it’s banana cream before pulling it out of his mouth. “you just shoved a banana cream-flavored, phallic-shaped popsicle into my mouth.”

“correct,” gyuvin agrees simply.

hanbin eyes him in wonder. “just last week you would’ve been banging your head into the door at the mention of just one of those words.”

gyuvin nods. “you’re right.”

hanbin sighs. “how?”

“well, once you embrace your sexlessness, you can be freed. when you admit it holds no power over you— when you bask in its absence and let go of all of your earthly needs,” gyuvin says thoughtfully, taking another lick of his ice cream. “then and only then can you conquer—.”

“HOW!? HOW ARE YOU DOING THIS!?” hanbin yells desperately, both hands (after throwing his ice cream to the ground) gripping gyuvin’s shoulders and shaking him violently back in forth. “I DON’T NEED YOUR SPIRITUAL MUMBO JUMBO I NEED ANSWERS BUDDY. AND YOU ARE GOING TO GIVE THEM TO ME OR I AM GOING TO SHOVE MY—.”

“oh, oh, okay, okay, oh, okay, um, okay,” gyuvin manages to squeak out while being ragdolled around by the leader of zb1. he looks over at the rest of the members, eyes wide as he asks, “is anybody gonna help me or?”

“no,” they all (including yujin, who just got out of school) say calmly at once.

“hyung, hyung, listen to me,” gyuvin pleads, managing to free himself from hanbin’s grasp. “we have five hours left! we can do this.”

“... we?” hanbin asks, one brow piquing in curiosity. 

gyuvin shrugs. “we didn’t make any rules that said two people aren’t allowed to win.”

“oh shit, he’s right,” matthew says quietly from the corner of the room. “what do we do if they both win?”

“we could extend the bet,” ricky says with an evil grin. “last man standing.”

“i guess we could send them both on the trip, but that would be more expensive than we anticipated,” taerae ponders.

“that’s true— we’re not made of money,” jiwoong agrees. “and i have a wedding to save for.”

“maybe they could both go on the trip so long as they agree to share the same hotel room,” gunwook suggests with a shrug.

“then it’s settled,” hao says with a smirk. “in the event of a tie, the prize for no nut november is a romantic getaway for two. two members of zerobaseone.”

“i mean, it’s a little nauseating, but,” gyuvin considers with a nod. “i guess it’s fair. where do you wanna go for our romantic getaway then, hyung? i’m kind of thinking fiji, but, by all means, if you—.”

“i will destroy you,” hanbin says quietly, the room falling silent as he stares at his feet. “i will grind your bones to make my bread.”

“okay, what the fuck?” gyuvin asks incredulously. “am i seriously that bad of travel buddy?”

hanbin shakes his head. “we’ve come too far to end this in friendship. someone has to die.”

“DIE!? hyung, do you have testosterone poisoning or something? you—,” gyuvin tries to reason with his older friend but he stops when hanbin pulls something out of his pocket. it’s a tube of white frosting. hanbin flips open the cap, beginning to squeeze out the suggestive-looking frosting sensually into the palm of his hand. gyuvin stares at it, wide-eyed, a bead of sweat beginning to form on his forehead. “... stop.”

“you may have fooled yourself, gyubinnie, but you can’t fool me,” hanbin says, continuing to squeeze out the frosting as gyuvin’s expression becomes more and more strained as he watches all too intently the quasi-pornographic display. “i know who you really are.”

“say it,” gyuvin growls, stepping closer to hanbin in challenge. “out loud.”

hanbin closes the distance, his nose almost touching gyuvin’s. “sex. maniac.”

“wait, are they gonna kiss?” taerae whispers from the other side of the room.

“wouldn’t be the first time,” matthew says annoyedly.

gyuvin snatches the tube of frosting from hanbin’s hand, aims it into his mouth, and squeezes the rest of its contents down his throat, all while making direct eye contact with the deliriously strung-out leader of zerobaseone. when he’s done, he shoves it back into hanbin’s hand. “you’re going the FUCK down. bitch.”

hanbin gasps, hand to his mouth like a scandalized schoolgirl. “NO, YOU!”

“NO, YOU!” gyuvin yells back at him with a pointed finger. “you’ll rue this day.”

the younger boy storms off to the door of the practice room, throwing it open angrily and, before exiting, he looks back one more time to yell, “RUE IT!”

⋆˙⟡

it’s now 10:30pm and hanbin hasn’t heard a peep from gyuvin since he stormed out at the end of rehearsal a few hours ago. it’s eerie.

it’s unnerving.

he opens the door to his dorm, expecting gyuvin to ambush him on his way inside with some sort of sellacious trick. but much to his surprise, the dorm is quiet, with only the sound of the tv playing from the shared living room. he hangs his coat up by the door and removes his shoes, popping on some slippers and cautiously making his way down the hallway. 

hanbin peaks around the corner carefully, seeing gyuvin and hao sitting on the couch together watching a movie. he steps out fully, the entirety of the couch now in his line of sight. and what he sees shakes him to his core.

“SURPRISE!” you shout from your hidden spot on the couch, pulling the string of a mini confetti cannon as hanbin stares back at you in shock. 

“(y/n),” he says softly, eyes wide as he tries to make sense of your sudden appearance in his dorm. “w—... what are you doing here?”

you frown at his blatant lack of excitement. “i’m visiting my boyfriend after spending three months abroad?”

“i—... i—...” he stutters, several large conflicting thoughts running through his mind at once. hanbin is thrilled to see you. any other day, he would die for the chance to hold you in person. but today… with only three hours left on the clock. with gyuvin on the couch next to you, chowing down on popcorn without a care in the world… couldn’t you have waited until tomorrow? “i love you. i love you so much, baby. i’m just… i’m just SO surprised— you really pulled this off!”

“well, you have hao and gyubinnie to thank for that,” you say with a smile, reaching into gyuvin’s popcorn bowl. both hao and gyuvin’s eyes widen, an unchewed piece of popcorn falling from gyuvin’s mouth as his lips part, realizing they’ve been caught. “they called me a few hours ago and said you’d been having a really hard time with your comeback coming up and that it would help if i came to spend some time with you. so i came as soon as i could!”

the testosterone-filled rage that is burning inside of hanbin is almost impossible to conceal. but he tries. a mechanic grin turning up the corners of his mouth, hanbin turns his attention to the two fucking idiots next to you. “did they really?”

gyuvin looks up at the ceiling, and hao looks down at his lap.

“yeah!” you confirm happily. “they even paid for my flight.”

“well, well,” hanbin says, shaking his head back and forth as his maniacal grin remains plastered on his face. “aren’t they just a couple of fucking peaches?”

you blink at hanbin. “okay, what the fuck is going on here?”

“nothing!” hanbin denies quickly, finally walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you, forcing you up from the couch so he can spin you around. “i’m just SO grateful to my best friends for their help.”

over your shoulder, hanbin makes eye contact with both boys, drawing his thumb across his neck and mouthing, “jugeullae?”

once you’re back on the ground again, you study your boyfriend for a long moment. he’s sweating like a pig and the heater isn’t even on.

“i’m just gonna run to the bathroom quick,” you say, walking out of the living room and down the hall.

“take your time!” hanbin urges, eyes locked on you until he’s sure you’ve disappeared from sight before turning his attention back to gyuvin and hao.

“um. so,” gyuvin stutters as he winces. “are you surprised?”

hanbin launches himself at the younger boy, but hao is quick to stand up and hold him back. “let me at him— let me… LET ME AT HIM!”

“YOU’RE the one who declared war, hyung,” gyuvin says annoyedly, crossing his arms. “so don’t be mad when the best man actually wins.”

“i won’t,” hanbin says with a cocky smirk.

“you both just need to calm down,” hao says, letting go of hanbin’s arms.

“oh, yeah, and i almost forgot,” hanbin remembers with a smile. “what the fuck is YOUR problem? you lost five days ago. why are you helping him set me up!?”

hao pouts. “i just hate when you win.”

hanbin’s brow raises expectantly. “and the real reason…”

hao pouts harder. “i got jealous of the sexual tension between you and gyubinnie.”

“that sounds more like it,” hanbin says, shaking his head in disappointment. “go to your room and think about what you’ve done.”

hao rolls his eyes, walking toward the front door. “if you’re gonna have sex in here then i’m just gonna leave entirely.”

“I’M NOT!” hanbin yells back as the front door slams closed.

“you’re not?” you ask, wholeheartedly confused and a bit hurt at the last bit of conversation you just heard as you stand frozen in the kitchen.

hanbin and gyuvin spin around to face you in shock.

“i—... um—... that’s not what—,” hanbin stutters and, sensing a domestic dispute coming, gyuvin decides it’s a good time to slip away into his room to quietly and nobley win no nut november.

⋆˙⟡

when gyuvin shuts the door to his room, he decides to pass the time by playing some league. he sits down at his computer, exhaling heavily in contentment as he hears a bit of good-natured raising of voices through the door. he leans back, arms behind his head.

they’ll be fucking in no time, he thinks with the utmost satisfaction.

fiji would be so nice without that nuisance hanging around. but it would be kind of lonely to be all by himself on one of the most beautiful islands in the world... 

if only you could go with him.

gyuvin shakes his head quickly, sitting up and taking a sip from his water bottle. clear mind, soft dick. clear mind, soft dick, he repeats his new mantra to himself. 

at the beginning of the month, gyuvin had told you about the bet. you’d laughed really hard in his face and said, “why are you telling me this?”

“well—... well, because… we… we, like,” gyuvin stuttered, his cheeks reddening under your gaze. “we, like, have sex. and stuff. sometimes. so, i thought i should let you know that we can’t for a while.”

“you can’t for a while,” you corrected, taking a bite of your croissant. “i can do whatever i want.”

gyuvin’s heart dropped in his chest. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, it sucks for you,” you said with a shrug. “but let’s just say i’m really glad i’m not a part of that bet, because i’d like to stay booked and busy.”

“like… like, with other people?” gyuvin asked, his voice shaking a bit on the last word. you were just friends with benefits. gyuvin knew that. you’d both made clear boundaries with each other and it was the arrangement that both of you wanted. but…

you put your pastry down, pointedly locking eyes with him. “why? does that bother you?”

yes, gyuvin thought. my heart has burst open and both atriums and ventricles are fracturing into a pathetic, bloody mess.

“no,” gyuvin said nonchalantly. “of course it doesn’t.”

you stared at him for a little too long before picking your croissant back up. “okay.”

“okay,” gyuvin agreed with a forced smile.

you’d hung out with gyuvin several times in the first couple weeks of november. it’s just what came naturally. after all, you’d started as friends in the first place. after meeting as trainees in your predebut days, you’d maintained a semi-close friendship for a few years now even as you both navigated your separate idol lives. you’d never been all that attracted to him in the past, but when you’d seen him at an awards show a few months ago, suddenly looking like a tall glass of the purest reservoir water you’d ever seen, you’d decided you wanted to get just a little bit closer. just enough to get him inside you.

so you didn’t hesitate to text him when the movie you’d been discussing with him for weeks was finally released in theaters. and gyuvin had asked you to have a karaoke battle with him the week prior, and you weren’t just going to let him win by default. and you HAD to partake in your weekly taco tuesday ritual.

though your hangouts for the past few months usually ended in absolutely mindblowing sex, it still felt totally normal just to spend time with gyuvin. you’d even fallen asleep next to each other after a late night of gaming. and while that wasn’t unusual, it was unusual for both of your clothes to still be on.

but the last couple weeks had grown increasingly rough for him. even accidentally brushing up against his arm would cause him to have to go to the bathroom to calm down for a few minutes. he always got embarrassed, but you never complained. if all you have to do is look at a man to have them on the brink of busting, you’re going to feel pretty damn good about yourself.

still, gyuvin decided to keep his distance for the remainder of the month just to play it safe. he’d also deleted instagram and tiktok so that he didn’t come across any videos of you that would unknowingly wake up his dick. he’d actually tried to see a showing of wicked: for good with you on the 26th, but he ran out of the theater as soon as elphaba put her sex cardigan on. 

he hadn’t spoken to you since. 

gyuvin shoves his hand in his pocket now, frowning when he doesn’t find his phone. he looks around his desk and on the floor before accepting that he must’ve left it in the living room. sighing, he stands up and walks out of his room to find his phone.

⋆˙⟡

“oh my god,” hanbin says, looking at the spot on the couch that gyuvin has just vacated. “oh my god.”

“what?” you ask, following hanbin’s line of sight to find gyuvin’s phone sitting face-up, unlocked on the seat cushion. “what’s going on?”

“it’s a sign from the heavens,” hanbin says, rushing to the couch and picking up gyuvin’s phone, cradling it in his hands like it's a newborn baby. after a moment, he begins to type rapidly. “i am god’s favorite.”

“did you forget to drink your anti-superiority complex tea today, dear?” you ask sarcastically as hanbin grins evilly at the phone screen. when he’s finally done, he puts it in his back pocket.

“he thinks he can take me down?” hanbin mutters to himself happily. “then we’ll go down together.”

“why’re you acting so weird?” you ask as hanbin kisses every inch of your face a million times. it’s something he’d normally do, but in this moment, it’s incredibly suspicious. “i thought you’d be, like, super excited to see me, but i feel like i’m… intruding on something.”

“now why would you think that, snugglemuffins?” hanbin coos, pretending to bite your cheeks. 

“don’t gaslight me,” you growl, eyes narrowing at hanbin. his widen in response and, in an inhumanly short amount of time, he falls to his knees in front of you. 

“i’m so sorry, my perfect, beautiful angel baby,” he says bowing at your feet in sincere remorse. “please forgive me for upsetting you, i—.”

“are you fucking cheating on me?” you ask, starting to piece together the puzzle that you’ve been so unceremoniously gifted as best as you can.

“WHAT!?” he yells, completely taken off guard.

“you weren’t excited to see me. you looked like you were going to kill gyubinnie and hao for asking me to come,” you say, mentally putting together your serial killer, red thread cork board. “you’ve been messaging me a lot less than normal. and… and we haven’t had skype sex for an entire month.”

“honey, i—.”

“you LOVE skype sex,” you assert before tears begin to brim in your eyes. “so you MUST be having it with someone else!”

“NO! no, no, no, oh my god, no,” hanbin pleads, standing up and taking hold of you by your shoulders. “i’m not cheating on you, (y/n). i would NEVER do that. i love you so much it fucking hurts.”

“and you’re swearing way more than usual,” you say, shaking your head sadly. “something is going on and i don’t know why you won’t just—.”

“—no nut november,” hanbin blurts.

you blink back at him. “... pardon?”

hanbin sighs heavily. “my members made a no nut november bet. and unfortunately, my pride was too great not to take part in it. the last person not to… you know… wins.”

you stare at him expressionlessly.

“i know i should’ve just told you, but,” hanbin continues, trying to fill up the silence. “i was—... i mean, honestly i was pretty embarrassed. you know me as someone with such immense self-control and dignity and i didn’t want you to—.”

you laugh. really hard. a deep belly laugh.

“... w—... what?” hanbin asks concernedly. “what is it?”

when you finally catch your breath, you smile at him and say, “you are as delusional as you are handsome.”

hanbin gulps. “huh?”

“i don’t know if wanting to be inside me so badly that you cry is really the display of immense self-control that you think it is,” you say with a smirk.

“hey!” hanbin replies indignantly. “you—... you said that was hot.”

“it is,” you affirm, your fingers slipping into his front pockets. “and it’s also objectively undignified.”

hanbin stands completely still, staring at you in fear. “we—... i—...”

“i know, binnie,” you coo, sliding your fingers in a little deeper. “you have so much self-control.”

his brow furrows in helpless want. hanbin needs to give in. he has to. but… he hears gyuvin’s bedroom door open. “just one more hour.”

“hey, did you guys see my phone? i—,” gyuvin stops dead in his tracks when he sees the compromising position you're both in and grins. “looks like i’m interrupting something.”

but much to his surprise, hanbin is grinning too as he pulls gyuvin’s phone out of his back pocket and holds it up for him. the screen lights up and gyuvin can see from where he stands that there’s a notification.

“give me that,” gyuvin orders, though he takes no steps toward the couple in front of him.

“gladly,” hanbin agrees, tossing the phone gently over to the younger boy.

the notification he sees is a message…

from you.

“what did you do?” gyuvin asks, anxiety building up in his chest. “what did you do, you motherfucker!?”

hanbin suddenly lifts you up bridal style, brushing past gyuvin and walking down the hallway to his bedroom. over his shoulder, he calls, “may the best man win!”

⋆˙⟡

gyuvin unlocks his phone, his breathing shallow as he opens your message chat.

gyuvin races out the front door. no coat. no real shoes, just his house sandals as he curses hanbin for being able to text so convincingly like him. trudging through the snowfall until he’s outside your dorm building. he presses the number of your apartment on the callbox. he’s buzzed in instantly.

he runs up five flights of stairs until he’s finally at your idol group’s floor. your one-bedroom apartment is at the end of the hallway. when gyuvin reaches your door, he lifts his hand to knock, but he can’t help but hesitate. what would he say? what would you say?

would this be the end?

before gyuvin can catastrophize any more, you’ve opened the door, grabbed him by his sweatshirt, and pulled him into your apartment. you slam the door behind you, looking the snow-covered boy up and down. sighing, you grab him a towel from the linen closet and shove it into his chest.

wordlessly, he dries off, roughing his damp hair up. he looks even more boyish than usual.

you take the towel from him when he’s done and place it in your laundry basket. gyuvin follows from far behind, seemingly trying to make as little noise as possible. you spin around, hands on your hips as you stare at him incredulously. 

“what the fuck?” you ask simply.

gyuvin just stares at you like a lost puppy.

“what the fuck is your problem?” you ask again, waiting for a real answer.

“i didn’t—,” gyuvin starts to defend himself, but you’ve decided that you actually weren’t waiting for his answer and that you’d prefer to keep talking.

“i don’t fucking understand!” you shout in annoyance. “YOU are the one who suggested the no feelings rule in the first place. as soon as someone caught feelings, we were supposed to end it.”

gyuvin sighs. “i—.”

“then why did you say you were okay with me sleeping with other people this month? huh?” you interrupt again. “i asked you if it bothered you, and you said.... ‘of course it doesn’t’.”

“i—.”

“and you don't even know how much it fucking sucked to hear that, because i wanted it to bother you,” you confess unabashedly. “i wanted it to bother you so fucking bad.”

gyuvin’s lips part in shock. had he heard you wrong? had he hallucinated? had hanbin really killed him and this was his entrance into heaven?

you swallow hard. “i didn’t mean to break the rules, i just—... i spend more time with you than my actual friends. and i like it that way. i don’t know. i guess, somewhere along the way, i stopped thinking of you as just... good dick.”

a smile grows on gyuvin’s face after a few moments. “shit, that’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“that’s kind of sad,” you say with a laugh.

gyuvin laughs too. “i don’t feel sad.”

“how do you feel?” you ask, unable to keep yourself from looking him up and down.

he smirks, taking the invitation to do the same. “really fucking great. but i’d prefer to know how you feel…”

“i think you’ll find the answer is the same,” you flirt back. you look up at the clock on your wall and sigh. “in fourteen minutes, that is.”

“fuck,” gyuvin exhales in frustration. “right.”

“right,” you repeat, nodding as you both stare at each other awkwardly. 

“gotta… get that win,” gyuvin rambles with an uncomfortable smile. you stand in silence for a few moments longer until gyuvin suddenly shrugs, strides over to you and closes the distance. “fuck it.”

his lips envelope yours in a passionate kiss that you realize how much you’ve missed this past month. you’re backed against your kitchen counter as he lifts you up and sets you down on it. you wrap your legs around his waist as he deepens the kiss, your tongues fighting for dominance. 

“wait,” you manage to say, catching your breath as you look again up at the time. “eleven minutes. are you sure—?”

“what?” he asks with a smirk. “you really think i can’t outlast sung hanbin for eleven minutes?”

“that’s not really something i want to think about,” you reply with a frown. “but i know you want to win.”

“and i will,” he reassures, squeezing at your thighs until you lift your hips for him and he removes your shorts from around your waist. “i’ll beat sung hanbin if it’s the last thing i do.”

“me when i’m cosplaying as zhang hao,” you joke.

“good, keep saying stupid shit like that,” gyuvin says, falling to his knees as he begins to kiss up from your ankle to your thighs in your lounge shorts. “that’ll keep me from blowing it.”

you grab his hair on the back of his neck. “ya! if you want to fight, we can fucking fight.”

“holy fuck, no, that’s too hot,” he says, wide eyed as he stands back, sliding his own sweatpants down to expose himself to you. his cock is as angry and hard as you’d expected it to be after this month. he places a hand on your chest and pushes you back so that you’re entirely exposed to him. “just be yourself, that’ll keep me unaroused.”

“i’m gonna shove my fucking knee into your—,” you threaten, cut-off by gyuvin suddenly slipping himself inside you. “oh my god.”

gyuvin’s forehead falls to yours as he tries to maintain his composure over the sound of your whimpering. “what’s all this, hm? you sound as desperate as i feel. weren’t you getting fucked by your whole roster this month?”

“of course i wasn’t,” you say, shaking your head. “when would i have had time to do that, huh? i was too busy hanging out with you.”

gyuvin pulls back in suprise. “really? you didn’t fuck anybody else?”

“there was never anybody else,” you answer earnestly. smiling, you add, “... idiot.”

he looks at you with the most sincere relief and joy. you involuntarily clench around him as you drink up his reaction.

gyuvin seethes, his forehead falling back onto yours as he tries to compose himself again. he looks up at the clock again and then back at you. “six minutes. i can do six minutes.”

you’re honestly not sure if he can, but you want him so badly at this point, nothing really matters anymore. “you can. of course you can.”

“let’s fucking finish this shit.”

normally you got a little more creative with it, but the straight jackhammering you receive is incredibly welcome after the drought. you can tell how difficult it is for him to keep it together and you’re honored to just be a part of this victory. his hand reaches between your legs to help you out instinctively but you shake your head.

“you need to focus,” you encourage, taking his hand and putting it back on your hip. 

in another minute, gyuvin forces your legs over his shoulders as he slows his pace. “how—... how much time left?”

“just—... just another minute or so,” you hiccup, unable to make out the exact hand placement on the clock while being so fucked-out. “you can do it, binnie. i b—... believe in you.”

“i can’t—... i—... i—....”

⋆˙⟡

hanbin lies back on his bed, one hand behind his head as he smirks up at the ceiling. he’s thinking about gyuvin busting a nut prematurely after giving some big speech about how strong-willed he is. maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about his member cumming when his partner is literally in bed beside him.

hanbin put on some stupid drama he’s been watching about forty-five minutes ago and hasn’t made a peep since. his other arm is around you, holding you close to him as he strokes your back tenderly. 

everything’s normal. except it isn’t.

though he’d already explained the bet to you and the reasons for his weird actions, the explanation hadn’t really made you feel any better. 

“bin-ah?” you ask, looking up at him from his chest. 

“hm?” he replies, meeting your gaze with a dimpled smile. 

you hold your breath. “did we grow apart or something?” 

his expression immediately changes as he sits up in concern. “what? what do you mean?”

“i know that you said the reason you were being distant was because of the bet,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow. “but that doesn’t change the fact that you were distant.”

hanbin frowns with guilt. “i’m sorry, (y/n). that truly wasn’t my intention.”

“i know it wasnt,” you agree. “but this was just a short study abroad trip for school. what’s gonna happen when i start my dance internship in los angeles next year?”

“well. it’s—...” hanbin stutters, looking down at his lap. “maybe this says something. maybe… maybe you shouldn’t go.”

these are the words that you knew hanbin had been dying to say for months since you told him about your dance internship in america. no one had ever believed in your talent like hanbin had. when you’d first walked into his dance class a year and a half ago, you had no idea the turn your future would take. his was the best class you’d ever taken and it was thanks to him that you had the courage to switch your major to dance and apply for the internship in the first place. you’d never meant to also fall in love with your famous instructor, but… who in the hell could blame you?

but there were clear and consistent obstacles in your relationship. hanbin being an idol, your devotion to your studies, your study abroad and soon, your permanent long distance. skype sex had been the only sex you’d had for a lot longer than your academic trip. 

and as you lay in his bed, still untouched, you fear that it will remain that way forever.

“i didn’t mean that,” hanbin says quickly. “i meant—.”

“you meant that you don’t want to be apart from me,” you finish for him, knowingly. he nods his head sadly. “it’s really hard, isn’t it?”

hanbin nods again, looking down at his quilt and tracing the pattern.

“well then maybe you should come with me,” you suggest.

“what?” he asks, one brow piquing in confusion. “come with you to la?”

you shrug, smiling at him. “you don’t have to move or anything. but the company i’m joining just sent out a memo that they’re looking to diversify their tutting portfolio. we both know that’s your true passion. and i assume you’ll have at least a little bit of downtime this spring after…”

hanbin sighs, shaking his head regretfully. “i barely have time to practice anymore. i don’t think i’d pass a serious audition at this point.”

“are you fucking joking?” you say, pouncing on top of your boyfriend and shaking his shoulders until he laughs. “how could you ever say that? you’re the best dancer that i know, you dummy!”

hanbin smiles sadly at you. “... i don’t want to break up.”

your brow knits together as you take his face in your hands. “hanbinnie—.”

“i’m sorry i made you doubt me,” he apologizes sincerely. “i love you. we’ll find a way to make it work. maybe i can come with you. or we’ll make a point to visit every month. and we can have skype sex every day.”

you snort a laugh into your hands. “you LOVE skype sex.”

“i do,” hanbin admits unabashedly. he reaches behind your neck, pulling you down to him until you’re nose to nose. “but you know what?”

“what?” you whisper, your heat fluttering in response.

“i like the real thing a little bit more,” hanbin whispers back, his free hand sinking underneath the waistband of your jeans and squeezing you tightly.

“just a little?” you say with a pout, batting your eyelashes like the saddest puppy in the world.

“oh my fucking god, let me inside you already,” hanbin whines, pulling your jeans down from the back. you sit up so you can remove them completely. hanbin wastes no time in removing his too and you’re back on top of him in seconds, positioning him at your entrance and sinking down slowly. “fuuuck.”

you throw your head back, happy to finally be filled again. “i kind of like the new swearing hanbinnie. sounds extra depraved coming out of that pretty face.”

“oh, fuck,” hanbin moans as you start to bounce yourself up and down on his length. “you feel fucking amazing, baby. missed you so much.”

you do this for as long as you possibly can, but your legs eventually give out. hanbin pulls you down to his chest, taking over for you as he thrusts up into your heat again and again.

“i—... i love you, binnie,” you whimper into his shoulder, biting down gently every time he hits a particularly good angle. “want you to fill me up.”

“fuck, fuck, yes, baby,” he agrees too easily, his thrusting growing more haphazard. “whatever you want. i’ll do—... i’ll do whatever…”

he’s completely on the edge now. suddenly, a bit of panic shoots through you. “binnie, what—... what time is it?”

“doesn’t. matter,” hanbin punctuates each word with a less-than-rhythmic, sloppy thrust. “i. won. i made… sure of it.”

you try to wiggle your arm free to look at your watch, but you're hopelessly trapped under hanbin's weight.

“g’nna fill you up with cum and eat it out of you,” hanbin promises deliriously. it sounds so good that it melts any worry you have away. if hanbin’s not worried, then neither are you. “g’nna—... gonna…”

⋆˙⟡ find out who won no nut november here or here ⋆˙⟡

✧ bf! hanbin, whose family adores you, they think you are the best thing to happen to hanbin. His sister already views you as her SIL; his mom insists you call her mom. His dad respects your dreams and takes you like a proper DIL. It also goes the other way ! Your parents adore him and occasionally forget you're their child ! Both parents can see how gentle and loving the relationship you guys have built is, and are rooting for you two.

✧ bf! hanbin who emphasises communication within the relationship, he doesnt want thier to be any underlying resentment towards each other. He also cerntianly doesnt want the both of yall to "sleep" on an argument, he wants its resolved quickly and maturely.

✧ bf! hanbin whos fatal flaw is his complete loyalty to you and only you. Sure, he'll be poilet to other women but dont get it mixed up everyone will know hes a taken LOYAL man.

✧ bf!hanbin whos proectiveness shows in watching your drink while you go to the bathroom, or keep his hand on your waist or the small of your back when walking through large crowds. Its Its subtle but youll never ever feel or be unsafe around him

✧ bf!hanbin who'd absoulte love for you to come to the dance studio with him to watch and support him learning new choreogrpahy and teaching you too. He's the type to teach you the dance and come from behind to fix your position only to tease you with feather kisses on the neck and collarbone.

✧ bf! hanbin who would gladly get any signed album of any group at your request but would become sulky if you fangirl too hard for another group or member (esp if its hao T_T)

✧ bf! hanbin whod your biggest supporter, you supported his dream of becoming an idols and expresing him self so its only right in his mind that he returns what you gave to him. He tries to not miss a big event/celebration and if he has too…? trust he will make it up 10x better.

✧ bf!hanbin who would never make you feel like your not the #1 person in his life, you are hs future. He can only every imagine speanding the rest of his life with you. You've supported his dreams and hes supported yours, breaking up is never something that he thinks of even in the middle of an argument.

✧ bf! hanbin who signed up to handle all of you and is more than willing to learn and grow together. Hes not afraid to love loudly and proudly. You are each other forevers ♡

Final notes: pls pls enjoy this; i plan to have more work coming soon. Dont be afraid to leave constructive criticism, compliments, etc. in the comments!

It was going on hour two now. You could hear your boyfriend in the next room, shouting out loud exclamations to himself as an attempt at motivation. For the past two hours, Hanbin had started his workout routine, give up 15 minutes in,  pouted loudly to you from the room and then repeated the whole process over again.

“Hanbin, honestly, do you know how long it has been?” the tone you gave was clear exasperation. You couldn’t start dinner until he was at least half way through his work-out, but he hadn’t even managed to get that far.

“Aish, come on y/n give me a break, it’s hard!” he pouted.

You rolled your eyes before putting down the vegetables you had been washing, making your way across the kitchen and into the bedroom. Once you stepped foot into the room, your brow quirked at the sight before you.

There was your boyfriend, trying to do a handstand and using the wall as support, his shirt had fallen down and covered the entirety of his head. Immediately, you let out a laugh before quickly covering your mouth.

“Jagi, I could use a little help” Hanbin groaned. ... Were his arms shaking? Oh boy.

Raising up your foot, you gently pushed it against his side, effectively knocking him over.

“Hey! That is the opposite of help!” he gasped as he hit the floor, his shirt still over his head.

With a soft laugh, you leaned down and grabbed the hem of his shirt, yanking it down and planting a quick but gentle kiss on your boyfriend’s lips. This earned a famous content grin from your cute man.

“How about I help you with your workout, so we can eat dinner within the next, I don’t know, week. Sound reasonable?”

Hanbin snorted as if you’d offended him, but made no protest. With that, you told him to tuck his shirt into his shorts, which was the obvious option for doing a hand stand, and then the both of you lifted yourselves up using the wall as support. While he struggled to do handstand push-ups, you just pretended to do them beside him until he was done.

Once the hardest part was out of the way, the two of you just did the usual, simple things, such as sit-ups, regular pushups, pull-ups and you spotted him while he lifted his weights.

If you were being honest with yourself, you knew Hanbin didn’t need your help at all. He was more than capable of doing all of these by himself. You were really just there to keep him focused and to keep him company so he would stop getting distracted by the fact that the both of you were in the same house, but not the same room. He was a very affectionate man, but that was exactly why you loved him so much.

Once the workout routine was finished up, though you had done significantly less work, you sat up and stretched out a few times while glancing over to him.

“Why don’t you go take a shower while I cook dinner, love?” 

“Are you saying I stink?” Hanbin feigned taking offense.

Without skipping a beat, “Yes. You stink. How am I to cook with that smell lingering?” 

He gasped and covered his mouth, a playful shocked expression plastered on his face.

“Fine, see if I ever help you with your workout again.” He stuck his tongue out.

A loud laugh escaped you before you could hold it back. “HAH! Help me? If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t be nearly as strong as you are. I am clearly the backbone!”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes and laughed along with you before leaning forward and brushing your hair from your face, placing a kiss on your forehead. 

“Alright, I give in, you're right. Where would I be without you?” He teased, making his way to the bathroom.

“and don’t you forget it!” You shouted after him, a big glowing grin on your face.

Later on after you had already cut up all of the vegetables and started frying the meat, Hanbin finally walked into the kitchen, his hair still damp and a mess on his head. It seemed he was too lazy to put on a shirt, but he did manage to get on some sweatpants, so for that you were thankful.

Not too long after you turned your attention back to the stove, you felt his arms curl around your stomach and pull you against his back. He rested his chin on your shoulder and watched you cook, his bare chest like a furnace against your back.

“Excuse me, sir, no shoes no shirt no service. Not to mention, you are distracting the world class chef. Highly frowned upon.”

“World class? That’s a little generous, don’t you think?”

Before he even finished his sentence, you sharply turned your head to glare at him, which he took as an opportunity to return the kiss you had planted on him earlier. 

A surprised chuckle escaped your lips. “Okay, fine. You survive this round.”

Hanbin closed his eyes and leaned his head against your neck, his arms squeezing around you. It had been way too long since the two of you had any time to actually be together and enjoy each other’s company. That was, after all, why you were making dinner and having a movie night in the first place.

“Hanbin, would you mind picking out a movie while I dish up our food?”

“Nope.”

“... Nope?”

“Nah. We can pick it out together when we get there.”

You turned to look at him in confusion, but that proved difficult seeing how he wouldn’t let you go, and also wouldn’t remove his head from the crook of your neck. You felt his arms tighten, and you laughed.

“Okay, fine. If this is how you want to be, just you wait until we get settled.”

Plating up your dinner, as well as his, you attempted a balancing act of one plate, accompanied by utensils, in each hand, as you shuffled slowly over to the couch with your boyfriend attached to you.

Once you finally reached the living room, you placed your food down and purposefully fell backwards onto the couch, crushing your boyfriend underneath you in the process.

Not surprisingly, he didn’t seem to mind in the least, only trapping you in a warm embrace before the T.V even managed to get turned on. 

“Hanbiiin, We have to pick a movie and eat our food, then we can cuddle!”

“How about you try to get out of my grasp, and if you can, we can eat.”

“... Hanbin, I just cooked this entire meal for us and if you don’t eat it I am going to have to whoop some ass.”

Trying to stifle a laugh, he looked at you with what could only be described as an attempt at a puppy dog pout. 

“Please can we just... stay like this for a little while, first?”

How were you supposed to say no to that? Ugh. Immediately, you turned around in his arms to face him, burying your face into his chest as your arms curled around his frame. You felt him shift, his hand softly resting on the back of your head as if to support you.

“This is nice.” You mumbled, the tiredness in your voice.

“I missed you, y/n. I love you.”

“I missed you most and I love you most.” You reached your hand up, gently resting it on his cheek, your thumb comfortably stroking along it.

His lips turned up in a soft smile before gently kissing your nose. It had been so long since the two of you just enjoyed each other’s company like this. You had forgotten how comfortable it was, just being in his arms. Your boyfriend was soft, he was silly, he was a bit of an idiot, but you loved him with all of your ... wait, is he snoring?

You looked up, pulled from your thoughts by the sound of your boyfriend, fast asleep. 

“Hey!” You tried to pull out of his arms but they were locked around your shoulders. 

“Hanbin! Wake up! I literally spent all day planning this meal!”

No response.

“Hanbin, I know you aren’t sleeping through this... Hanbin!”

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest groping/brief nipple play (reader receiving; reader is wearing a bra and hanbin refers to you as having 'tits'), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), fingering (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; about looseness of pussy after this week/disappointing chest but not the size of it he's just being a dick am i making sense), slut and whore used to describe reader, one slap across the face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from her perch at the window, she will never be much. the vultures jeered at her as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove she can be, she will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted her feathers and took her in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. she needs to change back, so she tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws her off with a shove. the reluctant truth is she’s filling with lust... and she’s growing quite scared of the bird she’ll become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird she seemed to want to be... but never thought she could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. she’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now she’s afraid it’s turned her into a raven. a bird that frightens her. or maybe a bird she can’t recognize anymore when she looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change her.”

“but it sounds like she likes that change. at least part of her,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if she embraces that and sheds her own guilt— or molts, if you will— she’ll realize the raven is another distortion of her own making, just like the finch was. she’ll realize she is the dove and she always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess she could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds she thinks they are. maybe she finds that, after all this worrying, she was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show her her worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep her away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, she’d cry before she understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find her and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths she would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he undoes the center clasp of your bra and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see your tits and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive chest. you’d never really doubted the allure of that part of your body before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see them. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand gropes your chest, thumb rubbing circles around one nipple and then the next as you let out a soft whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand slips under your skirt, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he reaches up your skirt again, tearing a hole right through your lace panties and stuffing two fingers inside of you immediately as you cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? can already feel how much those other assholes have stretched you out,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. 

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a misogynistic pig, but... had you really been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your heat and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty, long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides tenderly that’s making you start to feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, lining up the tip and coating it in your juices. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder:

“are there birds worse than vultures?”

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

gender neutral version below

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: choking (reader receiving and safely executed lmao), chest/abdomen groping (reader receiving; no anatomical descriptions or gender specific language), heavy petting (reader and hanbin receiving), finger penetration (brief, reader receiving), erotic humiliation and degradation (towards reader; regarding looseness of hole (non specific) from desperation and disappointing chest/abdomen region (not related to gender or anatomical gendered parts he's just being a dick to you i hope this makes sense)), slut and whore are also used but not in a gendered context, one slap across face (reader receiving), slight dub-con but we know how reader rolls now lol. hanbin is insanely toxic. enjoy.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　

scribble. scribble. scribble. 

the scratchings of your pencil in your poetry journal are growing increasingly violent. you don’t really care. you’d stayed up all night: tossing and turning and thinking and plotting. 

“hey, uh... you okay?” hanbin asks, tapping you gently with the end of his pen. your pencil falls from your fingers as you’re jolted from your anxious thought spiral. 

“huh?” you reply, blinking at the star of the soccer team. “oh, um. yeah. i’m okay.”

hanbin’s brow raises slightly at your answer as if it surprises him. “you sure?”

“yeah,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible. “why?”

you follow hanbin’s line of sight to the open page of your poetry journal. you’ve absentmindedly ripped a significant hole through several pages with your vortex of nervous scribbling.

you breathe an awkward laugh, closing your journal and putting your pencil down flat on your desk.

“you had a rough week,” hanbin says, grabbing his journal from his bag and placing it on his desk. you bite your cheeks to keep from grinning at the sight of your target. “or so i’ve heard.”

“i’m sure you have,” you mumble, glancing at the tile floor. “i’m sure everybody has.”

“they haven’t,” he replies definitively and you know he’s telling the truth. “i promise they haven’t.”

hanbin was a tricky one. the star of the soccer team and undoubtedly the most popular boy at your university, it comes as no surprise that he was also the makeshift ring leader of his stupid group of friends. keeping that spotlight also meant keeping up appearances. while your other bullies made their distaste for you known whenever possible, hanbin had a different preferred method of torture.

he liked to play nice. compliment your poems. share a laugh... reel you in.

until you were so close, you couldn’t escape. that’s when he’d flip the script on you. 

like when he sent your poem about the boy you liked to the entire university’s mailing list last year. you’d insisted you didn’t feel comfortable sharing it with him. you recoiled with embarrassment at the thought of junseo, your senior lab partner, finding out. but he pushed. made you think you could trust him.

the next day, it was pinned to every bulletin board across campus next to a picture of you that hanbin had taken on your class trip to the national library. like some sort of sick calling card.

junseo sunbae-nim never muttered more than a word to you ever again.

so that’s how all this started. hanbin recruiting his three (and then four) asshole friends in a sudden and violent quest to become the bane of your existence. 

sometimes you still can’t help but wonder if you’d done something to upset him. but you shake off that thought each time. you won’t let him get in your head again so easily.

you’ve about mustered the courage to give hanbin some snarky response when your professor’s chalk hatchings across the blackboard send a hush over the classroom.

“good afternoon, everyone,” professor choi greets happily, underlining today’s date on the board. “let’s jump right in today and start with our weekly journals. please share with your desk partner the poem that this week so far inspired you to write.”

your eyes fix on hanbin’s journal again, anticipation stirring as you think about the clues that could be hidden in his poem this week. could the answers you’re looking for really be inside that black, leather book?

“you should go fi—,” you start to suggest a bit too quietly before hanbin unknowingly cuts you off.

“do you wanna go first?” he asks brightly, smile lines illuminating his soft features. you know you shouldn’t indulge him, but you can never stop the corners of your lips from involuntarily turning up in response. no matter how much you hated him, his fairytale prince looks were undeniable.

“oh, uh,” you stammer, grabbing your journal and flipping it open to your entry from this week. you look at the poem you wrote, eyes scanning over the emotional stanzas as you bite your lip uneasily. “i dunno. i kind of got a bit too... personal this week.”

“oh, you know i don’t mind,” he replies calmly. “that’s what poetry is, right?”

“i’m well aware you don’t mind me spilling personal details to you,” you reply with a glare. “but i mind.”

“(y/n)-sshi,” professor choi’s voice suddenly rings over your shoulder. “let’s get reading, okay? time is limited.”

you swallow hard, looking down at your journal shamefully. “yes, professor-nim.”

“so what’s it called?” hanbin asks as professor choi makes her way back up to her desk, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back into his chair. “your poem?”

“the bird,” you answer softly. “it’s called the bird.”

he nods pensively before gesturing for you to start. you look back down at the page, fingers shaking as you try to hold your journal steady. clearing your throat, you recite:

“from it’s perch at the window, it will never be much. the vultures jeered at it as they circled above. then one flew down— with taloned-hand, he did touch. and a meek little finch turned into a dove. if a dove it can be, it will be it as such. til another vulture fell to his knees with a glove. parted it’s feathers and took it in his clutch. and from the fair bird, made a raven thereof. it needs to change back, so it tries to stay hush. but a third brash vulture throws it off with a shove. the reluctant truth is it’s filling with lust... and it’s growing quite scared of the bird it will become.”

you blink back tears as you close your journal and place it on your desk in front of you. maybe it’s your lack of sleep or the mentally and physically jarring week you’ve had, but reading your poem aloud had left you feeling quite vulnerable.

“that was beautiful, (y/n),” hanbin says suddenly, prying you from your regret. you turn to him, eyes wide as he nods thoughtfully. “i really appreciated the metaphor of the bird. the vultures are considered bad birds, but somehow they changed the subject from an unassuming bird into the more beautiful bird it seemed to want to be... but never thought it could.”

you stare at him as he glances up at the ceiling, those handsome smile lines crinkling his cheeks again.

“funny how things we could perceive as wrong or immoral can actually have a positive effect on us,” he muses with a chuckle. “but it’s only natural for the bird to question that change. it’s done more of that ‘bad’ thing and now it’s afraid it’s been turned into a raven. a bird that’s frightening. or maybe a bird it can’t recognize anymore when it looks in the mirror.”

“it did,” you assert quietly. “it did change the bird.”

“but it sounds like the bird likes that change. at least part of it,” hanbin rebuts, meeting your gaze. “perhaps if it embraces that and sheds it’s own guilt— or molts, if you will— it’ll realize the raven is another distortion of the bird’s own making, just like the finch was. it’ll realize it is the dove and it always has been.”

your lips part as you gape at hanbin in awe. it was hard not to let your guard down with him when he always dissected your poems so intuitively like this. memories of intense public humiliation are the only thing that can keep you grounded.

“or,” he adds, a small smirk upturning the corner of his lips. “i guess it could also realize that ravens and vultures aren’t the bad birds it thinks they are. maybe it finds that, after all this worrying, the bird was meant to be a vulture, too.”

“under a minute left,” professor choi calls out from the front of the classroom.

shit. hanbin had talked so much about your poem that he barely had any time left to share his— the poem you desperately needed to be shared in the first place.

hanbin’s still rambling on about vultures, but you’re not paying any attention as a wave of panic rushes over you. 

“you should share yours still,” you prompt a little too eagerly, cutting him off mid-sentence. trying your best to dial it back, you add, “i’m sure it’s very interesting, what with the big game on saturday and all.”

hanbin smiles, holding your gaze for a moment too long. it’s suspicious, but his eyes give nothing away.

“if it’s okay with you, i’d rather not share this week,” he says, throwing his journal back in his bag. “i got a little too... how did you put it? personal.”

you blink at him. “but—. but that’s what i said and you—.”

hanbin mutters something under his breath that you swear sounds like, “not like you’d listen to me anyway.”

but you must’ve misheard him.

your heart sinks, your plan crumbling to ashes before your eyes as professor choi launches into a lecture about wilfred owen’s 20th century use of assonance. hanbin had to have written something about what his friends had been up to. that’s why he used up so much time focusing on your poem. 

your pencil moves across your paper, absentmindedly taking notes until you reach the only possible conclusion: you can’t give up. you’ll just have to amend the plan.

after class, you hurriedly gather your things and run out the door, pulling your phone out and typing vigorously as you make your way to the bathroom.

WHEN DOES THE BOYS’ SOCCER PRACTICE GO UNTIL TONIGHT!? mina: ??? NO QUESTIONS. JUST ANSWERS. mina: jiwoong oppa is picking me up at 7. so i assume about 6:30. THANK U BYE and... please be careful around him. mina: yeah, yeah, yeah i’ll use protection ily

totally not what you meant. and you’d hate to break it to her, but after his little stunt on monday, you’re not sure how fond her jiwoong oppa would be of that request.

6:30. practice would start soon, giving you plenty of time to slip into the boys’ locker room, read hanbin’s journal, and slip out undetected. 

you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror.

a raven’s beady eyes stare back.

~

you kill some time in the library, waiting until practice is well underway before making your way across campus to the gymnasium. your heart is already pounding in your ears just thinking about the little heist you’re about to pull.

but your legs keep propelling you forward.

pulling open the building door, you step inside cautiously. the women’s badminton team is stretching in the atrium of the building, but there’s no sign of anyone else. you head right down the hallway, walking past the cardio fitness center and the weight-lifting gym until you’re in front of the boys’ locker room door.

you put an ear to it, hearing nothing but the whirring of a fan on the other side.

fuck it.

you pull open the door and step inside, white and grey tiled walls and rows of blue lockers surrounding you. your heart races as you look back at the door, wondering if it’s not too late to abandon your mission.

you shake your head. no. you need to find that journal.

with a steadying breath, you begin to walk through the first row of lockers. when you don’t spot hanbin’s bag, you proceed to the second row. and then the next. and then the next until you finally spot it.

tucked under the wooden bench running down the middle of the aisle is a familiar brown, leather messenger bag. you run to it, picking it up from the floor and setting it down on the bench. you unclasp the latch on the front of the bag and lift the flap, opening it up and reaching inside it.

your hand hits something... fluffy. you grab the fuzzy item and pull it out, squealing when you see that it’s a tiny, cream-colored hamster plush. it’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your whole goddamn life. 

and you are disappointed to find yourself thinking it bears a striking resemblance to its owner.

you stuff the little hamster back into the bag. as cute as he is, it’s not what you came here for. you gasp when you feel the cold leather-bound journal in your hand, pulling it out hurriedly and examining the cover.

you open the journal, flipping through the pages rashly until you locate an entry with today’s date at the top. it reads:

“if one is a vulture, it’s assumed they’re no good— despite all the research that they’re helpful to earth. does the finch know that if that vulture could, he’d hunt for a mirror and show it it’s worth? if that finch is a dove, there’d be something that would still keep it away from achieving true mirth. it’s the vultures, the bird cries before it understood: the vulture has always been a sign of rebirth. a dove, raven, vulture, or finch from the woods, the vultures will find it and double their search. but for someone who claims they feel misunderstood, it’s repulsive the lengths it would go to unearth... something that does not belong to that bird. seems the dove was a raven afterall.”

“pretty good, huh?” the sudden voice behind you makes you jump. “wrote it in, like, ten minutes after class. what can i say? i was inspired.”

you don’t turn around. your face is already on fire from how mortified you are. of course, you’d considered the possibility of being caught. but you hadn’t really realized the weight of that consequence until this moment.

“actually, i think it might be even better than the original,” he continues, footsteps echoing against the tiled floors as he draws nearer. “i mean, you really should’ve thought to flesh out those vulture characters a bit. and you didn’t even consider looking up the well-known symbolism behind them.”

a hot breath fans across the back of your neck, causing you to shiver as a hand wraps around the leather-bound journal and pries it from yours.

“i have to admit, i didn’t really think you had it in you,” he says with a chuckle, fingers suddenly hooking into your waistband and turning you around to face him. he’s in his red and white soccer uniform, skin glistening from the practice meet he should be at right now. “but just in case, i wanted to be prepared. write you something worth reading.”

“h-how did you know?” you stutter quietly. “that i—”

“well, you weren’t exactly subtle, now were you?” hanbin smiles but the light doesn’t reach his eyes. “‘you should read your poem, hanbin. i’m sure it’s exciting with the big game coming up’. like you give a fuck about my poetry.”

that last sentence reminds you of what you thought you’d heard him mumble in class today: not like you’d listen to me anyway.

what was that about?

“aw, don’t get sad now that your plan didn’t go your way,” hanbin coos, lifting his hand to caress your cheek. “i thought it was kind of cute. i can forgive you for stealing, right? you just wanted my attention so badly that you had to play a bit dirty.”

you shake your head quickly. “no, it’s not like that! i swear i wasn’t trying to get your attention, i just—”

“well then, jesus fucking christ, what do i have to do to—,” hanbin snaps before promptly cutting himself off. there’s something in his eyes you’ve never seen before: desperation. 

a large hand wraps around your throat in an instant, shoving you up against a blue locker. the motion knocks the wind out of you and you find yourself gasping for air. your hand flies to remove his from around your neck, but he catches it in his free one and brings it gently back down to your side. 

“i told you in class that if you needed help calling off the vultures, you should ask me while you still can,” hanbin rasps, rubbing his thumb up the left side of your throat. “but you weren’t listening, dove. the gulper got first bite. the rippers tore you apart...”

you breathe shallowly, glancing from side to side for some route of escape.

“but now the king has landed,” he says, tongue flitting across his teeth. “and he’s fucking starving.”

you blink at him, lips parted in stupid shock. “i—... i honestly had no idea you knew so much about vultures.”

“THAT’S WHAT YOU TOOK FROM THAT ARE YOU KID—,” he yells, finger pads digging in tighter to the skin of your neck. his gaze falls to your lips, supple and pretty even in fear. he trails down to your shirt, a button-up front that seems to entice him. “take it off.”

“b-but—.”

“take it the fuck off, (y/n). you should know by now how this goes,” hanbin snarls, grabbing your hand and bringing it to the trail of buttons. you start to fiddle with them, but you have some trouble under the pressure of his gaze. “can’t even undo a button? hm? too fucking stupid, dove?”

you find yourself nodding against all odds.

“need binnie to do it for you?” he coos, smile lines illuminating his face again.

you just nod again. it seems to be what you do best.

hanbin unfastens the buttons one-handed and with ease. once your shirt is open, he tugs it to the side and exposes your chest. then, he sighs with dramatic disappointment. “seriously? that’s it? got me all excited to see how good you look under here and this is what you have to show?”

you look down at your incredibly normal and attractive upper body. you’d never really doubted the aesthetics of it before. should you have?

the humiliating comment causes a lump to form in your throat... and an embarrassingly intense ache to shoot through your heat. 

he tugs the center hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric further off your shoulders. “it’s a good thing the other guys didn’t see this. they’re far more superficial than me. you should be grateful you found a guy who can look past the disappointment. ”

hanbin’s free hand roams across your abdomen and chest, fingers ghosting sweetly against your skin until you let out the tiniest whimper.

“mm, i heard that,” he breathes with a smirk. “even though you never hear me. probably didn’t even fucking clock the first line in that stupid poem. but i hear you, dove. so let me give you what you want. all you have to do is ask.”

you gulp, softly responding, “w-want you to... touch me.”

“yeah?” hanbin affirms, finger trailing down your stomach.

you nod again, this time more assuredly under the guise of his encouraging smile. that is, until a harsh slap stings your cheek.

“well that wasn’t a fucking question, was it?” hanbin hisses, rubbing soothing circles into your cheek with his thumb. “you’re in an advanced poetry class and you don’t even know how to form an interrogative sentence? just must be doodling all the time, huh? about all the boys who’ve made a mess of you this week? like the dumb little slut you are.”

hanbin’s free hand finds it’s way into your jeans, fingers brushing over your clothed core before pulling it out again. you gasp when you see his fingers already covered in your arousal.

his eyes darken as he undoes the button clasp and zipper of your pants, shoving your underwear to the side with his fingers. he forces your legs a bit farther apart before stuffing a finger inside of you, causing you to cry out. 

“oh, dove, why would i wanna put my cock in here, hm? so desperate, i could slip right in,” hanbin says with another sigh of disappointment. “did the other guys really make such a whore of you?”

another bout of worry clouds your mind. was that true? was matthew right? you thought he was just being a red-pilled pig, but... had you somehow been physically tainted from the events of this week?

“so fucking lucky, dove,” hanbin whispers, removing his hand from your center and taking one of yours. he brings it down the front of his athletic shorts and then wraps it around his impossibly hard length. you look up at him, wide-eyed. “where every other man would see damaged goods, i see prime real estate.”

“what—”

“gonna fuck you now, m’kay?” hanbin interjects, pulling his shorts down and exposing himself to you. you hadn’t really seen the other boys up close or at all like this. hanbin’s cock is pretty— long with just a few visible veins and a pink head that’s leaking a bit of pre-cum. it makes your mouth water. maybe you are a dumb slut.

maybe you like it like that.

or maybe it’s just hanbin’s large hand covering your throat, pressing at the sides both tenderly and persistently that’s making you feel a bit high. he brings himself to your entrance, spitting in his hand and covering his length as he lines up the tip. he’s about to push himself inside of you, when he suddenly freezes.

“you want me to, right?” hanbin asks, tone suddenly much softer than it was before. his eyes are locked with yours, holding you there with him against the wall of lockers. “you want me inside you? just me. not those other guys? not junseo hyung-nim or—”

BEEEEEEEEEP. BRRANG. BRRANG. BRRANG. BEEEEEEEE....

a fire alarm rips through the locker room, loud and annoying as ever. you try to jump out of hanbin’s grasp, but his hands stay fixed around you. 

“let me... let me go!” you assert, hitting his chest with your palm. the pressure on your neck that felt so good just a few moments ago is now filling you with fear, “are you trying to kill me or something!?”

his brow raises slightly, as if he only just noticed the alarm. his grip loosens and you take the opportunity to scramble away from him, frantically zipping up your jeans. 

“of course i’m not,” he replies dejectedly, re-situating his shorts before huffing, “like you have a body worth going to jail for.”

“oh, shut up,” you retort, rolling your eyes as you race to re-button your shirt. “this is all YOUR fault. whatever’s going on this week, i know you’re behind it. you’ve run out of ideas to keep me small. but i’m not small. in fact, i’m a much bigger person than you are! so... i’m sorry for whatever i did that made you hate me so much in the first place. now, please, let’s get out of here.”

you start to run down the aisle of lockers towards the exit door, but a lack of footsteps behind you causes you to stop and turn back.

“come on,” you urge as hanbin continues to stand in place and stare at you, unmoving. it might be the most infuriating thing he’s done all day. “oh, fucking burn then.”

the tangible anger in your voice startles both of you. hanbin blinks quickly back at you, wide-eyed as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. whoever gave him the right to feel that way is sorely mistaken. you turn back around, throwing over your shoulder: