#but two of them are partially written

[neonganymede]

Once I figure out how I want to upload them, I'll be posting all of the prompts to ao3 too~

[bikananjarrus]

actually we deserved to see hera and zeb interact more

[uefb]

OUT-OF-CONTEXT POWER COUPLE (I love them, your honor)

from approximately Ch 21 (not yet published) of this fic

[300iqprower]

Sorry if I had to say this: *Takes a deep breath while sweatdrop* Sakurai deserve better.

I used to be a sakurai defender like you, then I took an Olympus to the Frontal Lobe. Followed immediately after by a Heian Kyo to the Occipital Lobe.

I stand by everything I said in this post. I never said in that post Sakurai was competent. She was not, is still is not. She's long proven to be an extremely capable writer when given some guidance and/or when someone else is there to keep her fangirling in check. We have proof* of this in Summer 5, Little Big Tengu, Babylonia, and LB4. We also have proof that she's the world's most prolific character assassin when left alone for more than 5 minutes as shown with Shimousa, Septem, Summer 4, and the two aforementioned lostbelts.

*or as much proof as a game that refuses to properly credit its writers can be

It is fairly well documented that part of the reason Sakurai got immediately put so high up at Delightworks is because she was a Nasu superfan and Nasu pretty much just handed her the Prototype and Extra casts to go nuts with. That's not me saying she has no talent or merit and doesn't deserve a place in the industry - those claims are provably untrue. But it's also provable that she got where she is through Nasu's nepotism and that lack of qualification has shone through time and time again.

Lostbelt 2 is what best sums up Sakurai. It's both so bad that I "skipped" about 40% of it and got an empirically better story experience for doing so, and yet it's also so good that it has not one, not even a couple, but several of my favorite moments in the entire story to date.

Characters that have been directly credited to Sakurai like Douman, Tomoe, Xu Fu, Quetz, Sigurd, Napoleon, Surtr, Caligula, Gorgon, and more prove that Sakurai is capable of incredible writing.

None of that changes her track record of not only making the EXACT same mistakes every time she's called in to take the lead in writing a non-event chapter (and more than one event chapter), but arguably been worse about those mistakes every time she's put wholly in charge of a chapter, from Septem to London to Shimousa to LB2 to Olympus to Heian Kyo.

TLDR: Sakurai is not some objectively good or bad character. She's a real person who is not 100% consistent in anything. She's clearly talented but that doesn't change the actual work we've been presented, which has repeatedly indicated she needs someone to reign her in or her work inevitably tanks in quality due to her eccentricities that range from harmless to outright problematic. She is frequently derided as a scapegoat which is not only unjust and typically just how people try and shield Nasu himself from criticism despite her being part of his responsibilities as the one with the final say in everything, but also detracts from the genuine criticism Sakurai still deserves given some of the truly awful content that has been directly attributed to her.

Honestly I just wish she'd stick to writing events. Her style of heavily leaning into certain tropes and hamming it up more than other writers lends itself perfectly to events and lets her strike a balance of drama and comedy that other writers typically go too far in one direction to land, something that again is best exemplified by Summer 5, which was led by Higashide with her [implied to have been] heavily helping with things hence so many of her characters making up the central cast.

[bootleg-nessie]

Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band “Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

[waywardsalt]

the single hardest thing to figure out about linebeck’s ship is the cannon and the salvage arm

[the-stove-is-on-fire]

After School Ghost Theory 101 with Professor Fenton

Switch to light mode or Classic Blue to get the full transparency effect!

[Image ID: A four page comic that starts with Danny Fenton standing in front of a whiteboard holding up a white cat. "Question: Do ghosts purr?” 

Tucker: “Danny when was the last time you slept?” Danny: “Irrelevant.” 

Danny info-dumps: “The answer is yes, but also no. Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations. Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different. Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’”

Danny, wiping off the whiteboard: “Any questions before we move on?"

Danny’s audience consists of Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter in a classroom. Wes is seated at a desk at the front taking notes. Tucker is sitting on Sam’s lap playing on a Switch, Ellie is sitting on a desk behind them. Dash is asleep at the back of the room.

Ellie, now holding the cat: “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” Wes: "Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting." Danny: "What eyes?" Wes: “Please stop gaslighting me.”

A transparency trick on the last page reveals dark shadows and eyes all around Danny when viewed in dark mode. /.End ID]

An Extended Image ID is available under the read more because it’s over 1k. Side by side light and dark mode versions of the transparency trick is also available under the cut.

[Extended Image ID: The post contains a four page comic. The first page shows two comic panels with white borders. The top panel features a bedraggled looking Danny Fenton from the waist up holding a disgruntled fluffy white cat. There are bags under his eyes, his hair is messy, his arms are covered in bandaids and cat scratches, and his nails are painted black. He’s wearing a white shirt with red sleeves and a red oval on the front. In a large green text bubble he says “Question: Do ghosts purr?” A small orange text bubble under it asks “Danny when was the last time you slept?” “Irrelevant” Danny replies. 

In the bottom panel Danny is standing on the far left side of the panel in front of a whiteboard in a classroom with the cat under his arm. He’s wearing baggy jeans with holes in the knees and his classic white and red Converse shoes. The whiteboard behind him has partially erased doodles around the edges including some flowers, stars, and Phantom’s DP symbol. There are a few balls of paper on the floor. Partially out of frame on the wall behind Danny is a poster of  Einstein and above it a clock. Pointing at the whiteboard with a marker Danny says “The answer: Yes but also no” His words are written on the whiteboard. Under the words is a drawing of a stick figure and a green bedsheet ghost with a circle between them. The circle is surrounded by green squiggly lines radiating out from it. Under the circle, an arrow is drawn pointing to it with the words ‘core vibrations’ written on the board. A green text bubble in the space under the whiteboard says “Technically, all beings that possess a core are constantly "purring", a.k.a. Core Vibrations.”

On the second page there are two blocks of text, each followed by a drawing. The page background is a pale, greenish-grey with subtle scuff marks imitating the look of a whiteboard. The first block of text at the top of the page reads “Core Vibrations are a nonverbal, emotion-based communication system between Ghosts, similar to how some living species use pheromones to communicate. The exact tone of each ghost is different the same way people's voices are different.” Under the text, imitating the look of dry erase marker, is a drawing of two simple ghosts smiling and waving to each other. They both have a small green circle drawn on their chest area with green squiggly lines radiating out from each ghost. Between the two cores, two parallel arrows are drawn, facing opposite directions. Under the arrows is the text “core to core communication.” 

Under the ghosts is a second block of text reading “Humans can only hear these vibrations when the frequency passes through their audible range (20Hz - 20KHz), hence the 'purring' sound. When the range dips into infrasound (16 - 20Hz) it can cause feelings of fear and unease in humans that they often associate with ghosts and the supernatural. Also known as the ‘Heebie Jeebies.’” Under the text a red arrow points from the words ‘heebie jeebies’ to a simple drawing of Dash Baxter holding a flashlight and looking scared. There is a cobweb with a dangling spider drawn to his right and a bunch of green blob ghosts behind him to his left. In blue text the blobs say “you forgot to update your mailing address with the IRS” and “you filed your taxes incorrectly.”

The third page once again shows two comic panels. In the top panel Danny takes up the centre. He’s stretched across the whiteboard in a dynamic pose erasing the drawing of frightened Dash with a big swipe. One hand is braced on the board as he looks over his shoulder and asks “Anyone got questions before we move on?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are five, messily drawn eyes of varying sizes surrounding Danny. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. 

The bottom comic panel reveals Danny’s audience to be Wes Weston, Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, Danny’s clone Ellie, and Dash Baxter. In the bottom left corner, Wes sits slouched at a desk at the front of the classroom with papers and an open notebook spread out over his desk. He’s wearing a red zip up hoodie with white sleeves. His hoodie is unzipped showing a green shirt underneath that matches the colour of his eyes. At the desk beside him Tucker and Sam share a chair with their focus on Tucker’s Switch and not Danny’s presentation. Tucker is sitting in Sam’s lap with her arms around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder. Tucker is wearing a red beanie with short dreads, goldenrod yellow turtleneck sweater, green cargo pants, and white shoes. Sam is wearing a black crop top with a fishnet layer over top, purple pleated plaid skirt, artistically ripped purple leggings, and black combat boots with bright green laces. Tucker has the tips of his dread dyed green and purple. Sam has streaks of purple, green, and orange in her hair. Ellie is sitting cross legged on top of a desk two rows behind Sam and Tucker. She’s wearing a cropped hoodie with the same colours as Danny’s shirt and black track pants with white and red shoes. Her hair is tied in a high ponytail and she is holding the squirming fluffy white cat up in the air. At the very back of the classroom behind Wes’ left shoulder Dash can be seen asleep slouched over his desk. Wes has one hand resting on his desk holding a mechanical pencil the other partially raised with his hand open. In a beige text bubble with red text he replies to Danny’s question with an unimpressed look on his face “Could you tone down the floating eyes before the next part? They're kinda distracting.” Under his text bubble a small blue text bubble from Ellie asks “Is this Vlad’s first cat!?” If the image is viewed in dark mode, there are three visible floating eyes off to the side of the panel. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. 

The final comic page is a single, full body shot of Danny standing in front of the blank whiteboard. He’s looking over his shoulder, slightly turned with his back mostly towards the classroom and the eraser in his hand. He has an incredulous look on his face. If the page is viewed in dark mode, the background looks dark and Danny is surrounded by dozens eyes of in all different sizes. If viewed in light mode, the eyes are absent. In a green text bubble Danny asks “What eyes?” In the bottom left corner Wes replies “Please stop gaslighting me.” /.End ID]

[sincerelyrki]

forbidden fruit

how would four best friends, all helplessly in love with their other best friends big sister, react to getting her leaked sex tape sent them via a groupchat? there was only two options. one was to ignore it, and the other was to act on it.

pairing : enha!hyungline x fem!reader

warnings + genre : smut. oral (m+f). fivesome. anal. double penetration. pool sex. anal (f). spitting. choking. partial MxM. brothers best friend(s). jealousy. profanity. spit. cum eating/sharing. sunghoon has a breeding kink. unsafe sex. name calling/slight degradation. marking. reverse harem. a singular photo gets taken. begging. switch!jay. switch!jake. dom!heeseung. dom!sunghoon. switch!reader. whining. 18+.

wc : 7.9k

a/n : been gone for a while and about to disappear again… i’ve been too busy to do literally anything, i just got back from a month vacation and i’m leaving again for another week on friday. anyways not sure how i feel about this but i hope you can accept this as an apology for my absence 🙏 don’t be shy to leave feedback, i’d love to hear everyones thoughts <3

written perm taglist : @vousty @ilololoveyou @moon0fthenight

An alluring person you were, the sweet nectar of a forbidden fruit strong with your scent as you swayed passed them. 

A forbidden fruit, that’s all you were- all they allowed you to be. 

It was hard staying away from you, their shared desire to hold you, to bend you over any surface was nearly impossible to hold back. 

The rush of heat racing across their bodies, the unforgiving hairs on their tensed necks raising with interest at every innocent graze of your skin. Your short skirts quickly became a problem amongst your four friends, your thick thighs peeking out beneath the tight material- fuck it was a sight out of every man’s wet dreams. 

Your innocent eyes could do nothing to stop their reactions. Your long eyelashes fluttering lightly against your shined cheeks, pink with your favourite blush, pretty lips pulling up into the sweetest smile- you’re fucking ruining them, and they did nothing to stop it. 

It was wrong to think of you in this way, to picture you in any compromising position. So wrong to imagine the bruises on your knees, caused by your foolishly clumsy tumbles, to be a result of your mouth against them, well… wrapped around them. 

Hearing about your sexual conquers was one thing, but seeing it was a completely different story. At least for one of the options they could pretend it never happened, that it was nothing more than a misspeaking- a horrible mistake of a slip of a tongue. 

But after all, there was nothing they could do. Fate was more than cruel when they made you nothing more than their best friends older sister.

Taunting wasn’t it? Dangling the one thing they all wanted in front of their noses, allowing them a preview of the woman they all dreamt about late at night with their warm palms wrapped around their leaking cocks, crying with the simulation of what they imagined your mouth, god what your fucking pussy would feel like wrapped tight around them. 

Their thoughts would torture them with the idea of what you would sound like, and how you would look while they manipulated your body to best fit their size. 

Their imagination was so cruel, so. fucking. cruel. It was too easy to imagine your mouth in place of their hands, to pretend that the nasty audio in their ears was in reality, your whimpers. They would ignore their phone's notification, their volume sensitivity going off as the wanton moans in their ears rose in volume. Their questions kept them up even longer, their palms tightening to an almost painful hold as their mind uncontrollably spiralled.

Would you beg for them to wrap their fingers around your neck while they pounded deep into you? Would you push them onto their backs, dropping your entire weight back down onto them? Would you leave pretty scratches up their backs, purposefully using your nails to carve your initials deep into their shoulders?

As said before, it was fucking torture. 

So imagine their collective shock when they woke up to a mysterious group chat, one that only included two things. A message, and a short thirty-second video.

It wasn’t only the obvious gloating message that outraged them, but rather it was the very compromising, and also very nude, photo of you that was set as the thumbnail.

678-999-8212

*one video attached*

well, it looks like I won, doesn’t it?

heeseung 

what the fuck?

jay

holy shit, is that yn? 

heeseung 

don’t look, just delete it

sunghoon

too late, I’m going to kill him

jake

you don’t even know who he is😭

jay

she doesn’t look like she’s enjoying it…

even a blind man could tell that she was faking it

heeseung

fucking prick, I could make her feel so much better

sunghoon

she’s mine, back tf off?

heeseung

in what fucking universe?

jake

I don’t remember there being a rule against sharing

jay

all four of us?

jake

I mean… why not? 

And once again, that was something they all agreed on.  

As usual, you came waltzing downstairs right at eight in the evening. Nothing appeared different about the way you came in, your hair in its usual updo with one of your many pretty sundresses tight around your bust. 

To the older boys, it was crazy how unaffected you looked. A sour taste filled Sunghoon’s mouth, his eyes glaring holes into your exposed calves. 

He watched the way you walked, the slight bounce in your step only noticeable due to his heavy stare, his distaste growing the longer he watched the way you moved.

No Hickeys? Clearly, the man you chose last night wasn’t the right option because if he was then he would’ve been like Sunghoon. He would’ve thrown your legs over his shoulders as he pressed his tongue deep into your greedy hole, leaving hickeys all across your inner thighs with matching fingerprints. 

He wouldn’t stop even when you cried with sensitivity, your legs shaking around his body while your bottom lips quivered uncontrollably. 

No limp? Once again, Sunghoon would’ve never let you leave his room until he physically had to hold your body straight. You’d feel him for the next week, feel his aching thrusts every time he ever thought about touching another man. 

Sunghoon thought that it was obvious that a girl like you deserved to be ravished, to be loved on to the point where it had you questioning everything about yourself. 

But it seemed that only a few shared his same feelings, his eyes catching the way his slightly older friends’ hands clenched against their thighs. 

“Are you going anywhere today?” Jake felt his body stiffen at the way your dress swayed at your knees when you came to a stop, your arms crossing against your chest as you smiled at your younger brother.

Jake’s eyes followed the movement, his mouth opening and closing observing the way your chest pushed up at your innocent action. His thoughts raced at the way they’d feel pressed around his hard dick, the image itself causing his shorts to tighten. 

It was when he met your eyes that he realized what he was doing, his eyes snapping to the side while he repositioned himself. He was fortunate enough to have been wrapped in a blanket, his growing size hidden away from your sight. 

But even then all he felt was your eyes staring straight through him. He allowed himself to look back up once, guilt flooding his system when you passed him a cute smile. He was a fucking perv, and no one but himself was there to witness it all. 

“No, I had a long day yesterday.” Rage. His eyes burned with an invisible fire that quickly melted away any guilt, the video playing in front of his eyes once again- as if the other fifty-seven times wasn’t enough. “I think I’m just going to spend my day by the pool, practice my breathing.” Jake caught onto the innuendo right away, a barely noticeable wink getting thrown his way before you turned your attention back to your brother. 

Your younger brother, Jungwon, hummed at your words. Everyone knew he wasn’t paying close attention to you, your words going in one ear and out the other while he leaned against his spread knees, hands wrapped around his white controller.

“Fuck- okay, um I think the hyungs wanted to go swimming today too-“ Jungwon’s cursing became blurred out as his words grew heavy in the air. Without meaning to, Jungwon graced his friends with the perfect scenario. 

“Not sure about the others, but I think I’d love to go swimming with you.” Heeseung stood up, his eyes never looking away from your own as he dramatically stretched his arms up, his shirt pulling up to display the bottom half of his torso- flexing his muscles in the process.

His lips pulled up at the side when he saw the way you shamelessly stared at his abs, your eyes burning lines into his skin as they trailed across every inch of exposed skin. His ego could only expand seeing the way you rubbed your knees together at the sight of his v-line.

And when a throat clearing on his other side moved your attention from his body, Heeseung wanted nothing more than to punch Jay’s faux shy smirk off his lips. 

Jay pushed forward, his chest stopping centimetres from yours. “I don’t have any trunks, do you mind showing me where the spares are?” He tilted his head to the side with a much less shy smile, his eyebrows slightly raising as he waited for your response. 

He made the effort to never look away from your eyes, his pupils expanding under the bright light. It was only then that you noticed the light freckles spreading across the expanse of his nose, your eyes connecting the new constellations as his question faded into the back of your mind. 

Jay saw one of the boys move forward before he felt them, a hand-clapping against his shoulder before he was spun towards them. Sunghoon’s face was bare of expression, his hold on Jay’s shoulder tightening with every word that came from his lips- “Well luckily for you I also need a pair and I happen to know exactly where Jungwon keeps them.” 

Sunghoon didn’t look your way before he turned his back to the two of you, his footsteps light as he began descending down the hallway. You watched through a haze as the other boys followed, their overlapping whispers barely audible over each other.

But at last, you managed to make out one before the four of them disappeared from your sight, “we all have trunks, we literally planned on using them last night?” And with that, a smirk grew on your lips. 

Naivety was one game that you had mastered from an early age, it was about time they caught on. And so you turned on your heel, walking towards the laundry room to collect one of your many pool towels. 

“I’m going out, Minjae needs help setting up for the party tomorrow.” Your brother rushed past you, his hand plucking your sunglasses from your head with a playful smile, “I think I'll be needing these a bit more.” And with the close of the door, you decided to ditch your towel. 

If the boys were playing the game you thought they were then you definitely wouldn’t be needing one. 

All four boys couldn’t move their eyes from your barely covered form, their mouths practically open and drooling watching the way you pulled your dress up. 

The sun kissed your skin in a perfectly golden hue, your body glistening with an addictive enhancement due to a thin layer of sweat. 

Their cheeks grew warm as they watched you pull the fabric over your hips, their greedy eyes drinking in all newly exposed skin. They were all aware that they were tiptoeing the line of being perverted, but god the way you moved was fucking hypnotizing. 

One second they had you, and the next they didn’t. You went diving into the deep end, a perfected technique that they would’ve commented on under any other circumstances. 

By the time you rose from the water, time moved in slow motion. Your hair slung over your shoulder, droplets of water cascading down your face- dripping everywhere from your lips to your eyelashes. 

A forbidden fruit, that’s still all you were. 

Half an hour later, that stance was impossible to believe. Heeseung had you right where he wanted you, your covered core pressed against his, discretely grinding against him as you pretended to play colours. 

“hm, is your colour red?” Your head tilted to the side, arms wrapped around his shoulder as you prepared to get dunked again. 

“No.” He lied. His colour was, in fact, red, but in his defence you just looked way too good in his arms, wrapped around him. He wasn’t sure how he managed to get into this situation, but after a singular look from you, he had folded.

He was almost positive that for the game colours the second player would be held bridal style, but you insisted otherwise. And Heeseung decided then and there that he’d never argue with a pretty girl.

“How about green?” Heeseung shook his head once, a cheesy smile on his lips. You groaned out loud, your hand smacking against the water as you threw your little tantrum.

Heeseung decided against dunking you this time, your cute upset smile warming his chest. “How about a different game, truth or dare?” 

You jumped up with excitement, the movement causing Heeseung to groan. You both paused, eyes wide once you realized what just happened. 

“Oh- I’m sorry-“ You tried apologizing to which Heeseung just shushed you, his face bright red. “Truth or dare?” He decided to change the subject, giving you an appreciative smile once you reciprocated it. 

“No, can I go first?” Heeseung jokingly rolled his eyes at you, his arms propping up on the poolside behind him. 

“Truth.” Heeseung assumed this would be the easy way out, as it usually was. It wasn’t that he had any secrets to hide, so why wouldn’t he choose truth?

“Have you ever had sex in a pool?” This, perhaps, is the only time Heeseung wishes that he chose dare. 

“No.” He didn’t provide an explanation, not even after you desperately begged for one. It was the truth, he never has. He didn’t see the appeal to hook up with someone in the pool, because what’s the point? 

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” Heeseung wasn’t shocked, dare having been your go-to since you were a child. 

“I dare you kiss me.” Heeseung thought you’d reject him, leave him to go bother someone else. But you’ve been the person to deny a dare.

And so you leaned forward, connecting your lips. It was only a second long, but it managed to changed your entire dynamic. 

“Truth or dare?” And against Heeseung’s better judgment, he finally chose dare. 

“I dare you to fuck me.” 

Heeseung knew it was risky, but a dare was a dare, right? 

“Are you seriously  fucking in the pool?” Heeseung froze, there’s no way they just got caught- “Are you jealous?” there was no denying it now. 

If you didn’t care that the others knew, why would he? And so he pulled at the two strings holding your bottoms together, completely removing them. 

The other boys’ faces fell when they saw Heeseung raise your bottoms, betrayal swimming across their faces watching the way his hands controlled your body.

“What the fuck-” Jake choked out after a minute of watching his best friend trust into you, the way your legs wrapped around his waist as you filled your hips to match his pace.

Your moan awoke something deep within them, a desire that made each of them forget about the entire “forbidden fruit” bullshit.

“Don’t be rude, share.” Heeseung rolled his eyes at Sunghoon’s demand but complied. There was plenty of time for Heeseung to make you cum, this one time won’t make a difference.

He hauled you onto the side of the pool, your cunt exposed for all of them to see. Sunghoon didn’t waste a minute before he threw your legs over his shoulder, pressing his face into you. 

Your hands wrapped around his loose hair, the wet strands pulling together in a makeshift ponytail. He started by licking across the labia, his tongue flat against the entirety of you. 

He used two fingers to spread you, his nose pushing against your clit as he lapped at your leaking hole, his quiet groan causing vibrations to speak across your entire body. 

His touch awakened many of the nerves in your body, his tongue bringing you to a place no other man managed to and that was only within the first minute. You didn’t even want to imagine the way you’d feel by the time you finished on his face, would it be as good as you hoped? Or even better?

Jake was growing impatient, his face nearly pressed against your leg as he watched the way Sunghoon ate you- his entire body throbbing with need.

Heeseung noticed and nudged Jake forward, his head nodding towards the place Sunghoon’s head was buried, “we’re sharing, remember?”

Jake didn’t need to be told twice, easily sliding between your leg and Sunghoon’s arm. You looked at Jake with confusion, having never been put in a situation where two men wanted to have you at the same time. 

But Jake didn’t care, all he needed was to taste you- to feel your pulse against his tongue. 

Once he knew that you were watching he lowered his head towards the place where Sunghoon’s mouth was attached to you, both men making eye contact for half a second before the other man shifted to the side- making room for the other.

Your jaw dropped open when he attached his mouth to your clit, his tongue using the mixture of your wetness and Sunghoon’s spit to move in spirals. 

It seemed that the lewd noises from Jake caught the attention of the other two boys, their jaws matching yours. “Holy shit-“ Heeseung leaned forward to view better, his hand coming down to push Jake’s hair from his face. 

The three of you watched as the two boys performed, their tongues pressing together as they switched positions, Jake pulling one of your knees over his shoulder in an attempt to pull you closer. 

Heeseung used his hold on Jake’s hair to tilt his head closer to Sunghoon’s, their lips practically touching with every move. “Our baby deserves a better view.” He tsked from his position on your side, eyebrows furrowed while he watched the boys walk an invisible line.

Sunghoon’s heavy eyes glared up towards Heeseung, his sticky cheeks glistening so pretty under the pool's lights. There were some things that Sunghoon could ignore, but a blatant challenge? He’d be dead before he proved anyone wrong.

And so, while maintaining eye contact, he turned his head towards Jake. He pushed his lips against the side of the boys, pushing his tongue to lick at the exact stop Jake was lapping at. 

Jake, of course, reciprocated right away- both boys practically making out against your cunt, strings of saliva connected the three of you together. And such performers they were, the other boys growing jealous at your undivided attention being pulled at the boys between your legs.

A rough tap on your cheek was enough to pull your attention back to a kneeling, now hands-free, Heeseung. One of his now free hands gripped at the area where your chin and neck meet, his thumb pressing directly on your pulse point. 

“Are they making you feel good?” He cooed, his lips jutting out while his other hand toyed with the string of his bathing suit bottoms. 

You nodded at his words, your face melting into his palms with a dumb look in your eyes. Heeseung barely managed to keep down his smile, his chest warming at the sight of you nuzzling against him. 

If it wasn’t for the throbbing in his lower body, then maybe he could’ve adored the sight for a minute longer. But his impatience grew thin the longer he heard the noise from between your legs, jealousy stirring deep in his stomach.

“Open your mouth.” His hand moved further up your chin, your cheeks now pressed between two of his fingers, tightening as he applied pressure, forcing your lips open. You tried your best to keep your lips sealed, a playful action that evoked the exact reaction you expected.

Heeseung’s eyes narrowed on demand, his nose slightly scrunching together as he looked at you with a look you recognized all too well. 

Your stomach tightened in anticipation, the rumours surrounding Heeseung’s kinks coming to your head.

It wasn’t a secret that Heeseung got around, but his partners seemed to remain a mystery. You had first heard the rumours in your eleventh-grade history class, a few girls crowded around the seat behind you, their voices mudding together as they formed their own fantasies. 

It wasn’t hard to hear the name of the man of the hour, your brother's best friend’s name being on your mind more times than it was supposed to.

It was a childhood crush, a dream that got crushed with the words spilling from the other girl's lips. They’d whisper about how Heeseung only bed college women, about how he only liked women with experience. 

In their words, he wanted someone who could “handle it.” At first, you didn’t understand what they meant, handle what? It was a week later when you finally understood, it was then when you decided that you were over him.

If you couldn't get under him, why not get over him? And that’s what you did, well until now. 

It was safe to say that the current you could handle him, your experience growing tenfold in the year after you graduated. 

But there was this one rumoured kink that you couldn’t seem to shake, one that has stuck around since the day you heard it. 

He rose to his feet, pushing his trunks down in a smooth swipe, completely exposing himself to your watering mouth. His hand returned to its position, pressing your mouth open once again. Only this time, you allowed him.  

His length felt heavy on your tongue, foreign to what you were used to. He was much bigger than most of your past partners, which you took as a good sign. 

There had to be some proof of the rumour, and you couldn’t help but take this as the first hint. The second hint came directly after, his tip hitting the back of your throat, bottoming out straight away.

Throatfucking? Sure it was pretty basic, but god some men just couldn’t do it. They either went too fast and shallow, barely reaching halfway across your tongue. Or they went too slow and deep, your boredom growing as they used your throat in a pathetic attempt.

Heeseung, the man who was almost known for his head game rumours, seemed to be the perfect fit. 

Your senses were filled with nothing but him. His taste filled your mouth, the precum coating your mouth in a layer of lubricant. Both your throat and scalp burned with each thrust, but it hurt so good.

His soft grunts made you all more pliant, loosening your jaw to allow more suction, it was a sight straight out of both of your wet dreams. Jay seemed to agree. 

Jay’s hand wrapped around the base of your throat, tightening- holding you in place. His breath tickled your ear as he blew warm air against it, his words slipping out with each harsh thrust getting pushed in.

“You can feel him so deep, can’t you?” He pressed small kisses along your jawline, trailing down to the center of your throat. He pulled away the tiniest bit, his eyes glowing with amazement as he watched the way your skin bulged every few seconds.

He raised a finger to press against the most prominent spot, his lips following suit as he began nipping against the same spot. “C’mon, I need you too…” He trailed off, alternating between kissing and sucking on your exposed neck. 

“Please, don’t make me beg.” Jay didn’t need to say another word, your hand already blindly searching for his shorts. His hand quickly guided yours, pushing it between his stomach and the elastic. 

His head fell against your shoulder, his chest pressed halfway across your back. He didn’t care for the man on his other side, his eyes closing as he melted into the feeling of your hands rubbing against his bare cock.

Heeseung’s head fell back at your increase of moans, the vibrations rushing his release. He quickly pulled out of your mouth, his hand gripping around his base as he stopped himself from cumming too early. 

Heeseung looked back between your legs, Sunghoon now sucking hickeys against your thighs as Jake pushed his finger into you, his tongue licking at the skin stretching around them. 

A cool shiver spread through his back, his bare body exposed to the cold wind blowing from the pool. It was then that he noticed that goosebumps were present along most of your arms, granted some were for other reasons, but it was the only sign he needed. 

Instead of using words, he just opted to lean toward the two boys still half-submerged in the water. He grabbed Jake’s hair, pulling his face away from your cunt. 

Jake’s eyes snapped up, confusion clouding his irises. Heeseung ignored the look before letting Jake go, reaching over to do the same thing to Sunghoon. 

Sunghoon caught onto Heeseung’s look way quicker, his body detaching from yours as he hauled himself from the pool, his trunks tight against his waist.

Jake, albeit still a bit confused, followed suit right away. Heeseung looked at Jake’s now bare thighs, his eyebrows furrowing in a silent question. 

Jake only shrugged, shooting him a sly smile before he used his thumb to point over his shoulder, his black trunks floating along the surface on the other side of the pool. 

All that was left was you and Jay, your full attention on him. His chest pushing harshly against you, his heartbeat thumping against your shoulder blades. 

“We’re going inside.” Jay shook his head against you, his hips pushing forward to rut into your warm hands. You clicked your tongue in faux annoyance, your fingers tightening almost painfully against him- forcing his movements to stop. 

You removed your hands from his shorts, your hands wrapping around the band to pull him in front of you. Your chests were pressed together, hearts beating as one. 

His watery eyes opened, meeting yours as his cheeks flushed. Your facade melted, your eyes filling with adoration at his needy expression. “We’re not done, you’ll feel so much better upstairs.” You whispered, ignoring all the other boy's eyes staring directly at your exposed body. 

Jay still didn’t move, his eyes pulling you in once again. Without a thought, you pushed your lips against his- tilting your head for a closer angle.

It wasn’t even ten seconds in when Heeseung came stomping over, his hand grabbing Jay’s hair to pull his lips away from yours. A thick string of spit stretched across both of your lips, your head following his. 

All boy's jaws dropped at your following action, their arousal and jealousy battling against each other. You leaned forward once more, your tongue pressing against the side of Jay's mouth, swiping from one side to the other.

You causally licked the spit from his lips before swiping at your own bottom lip. After a moment of silence, you looked up.

Jay’s mouth opened and closed, gaping at the sudden action. “You- what?” He blubbered out, shock heavy in his tone. And just as Jake did before, you just shrugged. “Can’t let it go to waste, can we?” You stood up using Sunghoon’s outstretched palm, entwining your fingers while sliding your slides back on. 

 “We’re going inside, now,” Heeseung growled towards Jay, his eyes watching your hips sway as you walked away. 

The second you stepped into your bedroom Sunghoon pushed you against the wall, his hand wrapped tight around your throat with his lips pushed into yours- pinning you down. 

He traced your entire body, nerves coming alive with every inch of unmarked space. He finally moved his eyes down to the marks on your thighs, his marks. 

Pride. Pride wasn’t a new feeling to Sunghoon, but he swears he’d never felt it this strong. He was almost happy that you were left unmarked, he didn’t even want to think about how he’d react to seeing proof of another man’s hands touching you. 

Sure he was furious that you weren’t getting the pleasure you deserved, but Sunghoon could give you all that and more. He’d give you anything, even if it meant sharing you with three of his friends. 

“Why didn’t you come to me?” He knew he had to ask now because if he didn’t then he wouldn’t ever build himself to. 

Your expression became guarded, lips pulling closed at his hurt tone. “What do you mean?” Sunghoon froze, did you not know?

You watched his reaction, the way he retracted into himself. “With your needs, I could’ve helped you.” He tried regaining his confidence, squaring his shoulders as he stood taller. 

“You wouldn’t have to fake it with me.” Ah, now you understood. A smirk rose on your lips, your hands moving on their own as you gripped his waist. 

“Are you sure? My other boys make me feel pretty good.” You stressed the last few words while your hands travelled further up his exposed torso- pressing against his lower stomach for a few seconds before tracing the lines between his flexed abs. 

Sunghoon hissed under his breath at your words, his eyes darkening at the mention of your former partners.

“The video didn’t seem very promising, we wouldn’t have you looking all neat, looking untouched.” It was then that Sunghoon realized the other boys were surrounding his other sides, their arms almost pressed against his. 

You looked up towards Heeseung, tilting your head with a fake pondering look, “A video?” He nodded once, his jaw clenched at your fake oblivious attitude. 

“And how did I look?” You wrapped your hand around Sunghoon’s, pulling it away from your neck. He took your action as a signal to move back, pulling his body from yours. 

All the boys stayed silent at your question- which was something that didn’t sit right with you. You looked at each of them before you landed on Jake, noting the way his cock twitched at your sudden attention. 

You turned your body to face him while ignoring all the other boys, your palm coming up to rest against his heaving chest. You made a show of trailing your finger across your collar bones, all the way up to your halter bikini top. 

“How did I look, Jakey?” A stuttered cough left his left the second your finger pulled at the knot, your top now dangling around your rib cage, your breast completely exposed. 

“I didn’t do this, did I?” You grabbed his wrists, moving his hands to press your breasts together. You contorted your expression into one of pleasure, your lips dramatically dropping open as you pretended to choke on your words. 

Jake shook his head to the side, his body moving on autopilot as he calculated his next moves. 

“No, but I think you knew that.” You pursed your lips while shaking your head at him, nose scrunching up in annoyance. “I didn't see the video, you did.”

Heeseung reacted before anyone else, his hand grabbing your arm to pull you towards your bed. 

“You’ve been bratty all night, clearly no one’s taught you to behave.” Heeseung pushed you flat against the bed, his knee pressing flesh against your sensitive pussy. You let out a loud mewl, your back arching into his knee. “I think you need to teach me again.” Your head flew back when you began moving your hips against him, his knee providing the perfect pressure against your swollen clit. 

Heeseung kept his arms crossed across his chest, expression unmoving as you used his knee to get off. Your whimpers had a clear effect on both Jay and Jake, both of their hands wrapped around their exposed cocks as they jerked themselves off at the sight. 

“P- please help, it doesn’t feel as good without someone’s help.” You blubbered out a beg, your lips pouting together while your lash line filled with unshed tears. Your desperation was clear, your hips stuttering against the bed due to the lack of pressure. 

“Aw look at you, a slutty baby who can’t do anything by herself.” Sunghoon cooed from over Heeseung’s shoulder, his hand holding onto his shoulder as he watched the way you rubbed against Heeseung. 

“But pathetic cry babies don’t deserve help, do they?” You rapidly shook your head, plethoras of different disagreements leaving your lips. 

“But you’re not a crybaby.” Jake joined into the taunting, kid body weighing you down as he kneeled to your side. His hands reached over to rub across your cheeks, his fingers catching your salty tears. You nodded your head, eyes wide with excitement thinking that at least one of them was on your side.

“So stop fucking crying.” His harsh words were still sung with the same cooing tone, his gentle hands contradicting their speech.

“M’not crying, not a baby.” Jake nodded along to your words, repeating them back to you once before he turned his head to look at the two boys standing above you. 

They both nodded toward Jay, who was still standing on the right side of the bed- opposite to Jake. Jake gave the other boy a single once-over before he nodded back at the other two. 

Jake placed a small kiss against the apple of your cheek, your salty tears sticking to his skin before stood up from his position. You, who read the situation wrong, began repeating your small sorrys. Apologies slipped from your mouth in a slobbly mantra, your desperate attempt to be touched once again. 

“You’re sorry?” It was a rhetorical question, but still- you answered. Heeseung took charge once again, his hand pressing against your knee- rubbing small circles into it. 

“Prove it to us.”

Jay, who removed his trunks at the door, crawled onto the bed beside you. He sat in the center of the bed, right above your head. “Make Jay feel good, show him how much you need him.”

You didn’t waste another second before you turned to your stomach, your ass pressed in the air as you arched towards the other boys. Your hand wrapped around Jay, your tongue peaking out to give small kitten licks to his tip.

Jay bit his lip in anticipation, his feet twitching by his side with each small touch. His head was filled with nothing but you, the thoughts of you. 

His nightly thoughts were finally getting played out, the warmth of your lips millimetres away from him drove him insane. But he wasn’t the only one growing desperate, the sharp smack against your ass laying it down. 

“Giving him those pathetic licks won’t do anything, even Sunghoon could do better.” Heeseung tutted, his hand smacking you once before before he pressed his hand flat against your upper back, pushing you closer to Jay. 

“What the fuck?” Sunghoon glared at Heeseung for adding his name, to which he just gave him an exasperated look. “You were the one practicing making out with Jake earlier, not me.”

Both named boys looked away, their cheeks burning bright red. “Whatever.” Sunghoon scoffed, his shyness still coming in full force as he recalled the way he reacted earlier. 

Their almost argument was cut off at the gasp Jay let out, all three of them watching the way his face pulled up in pleasure. Heeseung never thought that he’d enjoy watching another man’s reaction to getting their dick sucked, but he also never thought that he’d be sharing someone with three of his friends. 

The sounds coming from your lips were downright disgusting, slurps mixed with the occasional gag- but in a way, you’ve never sounded better. 

Heeseung could see the way Jake was stopping himself from stroking too much- not wanting to cum anywhere but in you. Sunghoon noticed it too, his small snickers catching the Australian boys attention. 

Jake’s jaw dropped when both boys stepped back, allowing Jake to take their place. He waited a few seconds, making sure that he was actually catching what they were throwing- and not making it up in his head. 

He got his answer in the way the boys moved on either side of the bed, Heeseung’s hand resting against Jake’s shoulder when he stepped beside him.

Heeseung gave him a small nudge, pushing him towards your legs. He gave a reassuring nod with a tight-lipped smile, and that was all Jake needed. 

“Comdom?” Heeseung leaned forward to meet your eyes, his question heavy in the air. Sunghoon stood with bated breath as he waited for your response, his chest blowing out when you finally shook your head. 

Jake knew you were spread enough, having been the one to stretch you out by the pool. And you certainly were wet enough, but even that couldn’t stop him from spitting on his palm- rubbing it across his entire dick. 

He used one hand to push your back into a further arch, the other wrapped around his base as he lined himself up. The second his tip entered you the tiniest bit- he pauses.

If this was going to be the only time he got to have you, why not savour it all? He removed his hand from his base but instead used it to spread your lips out. 

He got the full effect, watching the way your tight hole sucked him in- gripping him. His groan rolled from his mouth once he bottomed out, his balls slapping against you once before he pulled back out, slamming in harder the second time. 

Both of his hands were now gripping your hips, his short nails making half-moons across your skin as he repeatedly pulled you back into him.

You saw stars, the stimulation feeling like nothing before. You weren’t sure if you could ever go back to only fucking one person, not when two people against you felt this good. 

A cock in your mouth and one in your pussy, heaven. They were fucking ruining you, and you loved every moment of it. 

You felt the way Jay was getting closer, his noises growing quieter the longer he held his breath. You reached your hand under your chin, massaging his balls with one hand while the other pressed down on his pubic bone for stabilization.

You completely removed him from your lips, your tongue sticking out as you trailed it across his most prominent vein, curling it once around the tip before you swooped back down. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking his balls into your mouth while your hand twisted along the length. 

You used one finger to press against the slit on his tip, pressing it down. His hips shot forward, a loud moan breaking from his lips at the sensitivity. 

As quickly as you did that, you switched again. Your mouth sunk back down onto him, holding your breath as you held him deep in your throat. 

A second after he let out a pitchy breath, he released in your mouth. Usually, the taste of cum didn’t bother you. Sure it was usually bitter, but after a while, you just learned to ignore it. 

And maybe Jay tasted similar, but he tasted so different. He was addicting, every part of him. And it was for that reason that you didn’t pull away, why you kept going even when his body began twitching beneath you. It’s why you went faster when his broken pleads turned into inaudible sounds. It was why you swallowed around him a second time, swallowing everything he had to give you. Except this time, you held it in your mouth. 

You pulled off of him, his cum still in your mouth. You looked up towards Sunghoon, his eyes widening when you gestured to him to get closer. 

And maybe if you weren’t so fucking hot, then maybe he wouldn’t have complied. Maybe he wouldn’t have opened his mouth, allowing you to spit it into his own. Maybe he wouldn’t have listened to your next orders, but god, you were so fucking hot. 

“Share it with Jake.” They all knew what you meant, and at Jake’s small nod, they all knew exactly. what. you. meant. 

“Holy shit-” Jay’s jaw was on the ground as he watched his friends share his cum between their lips, their tongues twisting together as it grew more intense. 

If Jake’s thrusts meant anything, then you knew that he more than liked it. He loved it. 

“Sunghoon, join Jake.” Your head snapped over to Heeseung, your eyes wide as his words processed in your head. Heeseung ignored your look, staring dead into Sunghoon’s eyes. “I don’t think she’s proved herself yet, one cock in her clearly isn’t enough.” 

The next minute was a blur. One second you were arched into Jake, and the other you were sat on his lap with your legs wrapped around Sunghoon’s waist- his cock inches from you.

Heeseung’s fingers were pressed deep into your ass, the spilled lube coating Jake’s lower stomach. After the third finger, Heeseung decided you were stretched enough.  

Heeseung helped holding you up, your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he lowered you onto Jake. Your arms tightened hard around him, your eyes falling closed at the new feeling of having someone pushing into you from the back. 

You’ve tried many things, but anal definitely wasn’t one. 

“Relax, let him in,” Heeseung whispered into your ear, one of his hands rubbing circles into your back. You did what he said, letting go of all the tension in your lower body.

It didn’t take very long for Jake to bottom out, time blurring together due to your hyperfocus on the unknown feeling. “You did s’good.” Heeseung pecked your ear once before he released you, raising his hands to pull your arms off of him. 

You put your arms on Jake’s side, holding him for stability. He took two steps back, still close enough to pull you away if you showed any discomfort. 

The first few thrusts felt weird, the pleasure yet to come. But once it came, it came fast. Your back arched as your head fell back, your lips gaping open. 

Your legs tightened around Sunghoon’s waist, pulling him closer. “P-please-“ you begged through broken moans, your desperation clawing at your chest.

You weren’t entirely sure what you were begging for, but you knew whatever Sunghoon gave you would help. He hesitated for a minute after he lined himself up, his worries of hurting you replacing his neediness for a split second.

It was a split second too long, long enough for you to reach one hand forward and pull his hips into you. Both Jake and Sunghoon paused at the feeling, Jake’s stomach tightening under your hold. 

Sunghoon’s expression was nothing if not pure bliss, his eyes half open, his mouth wide as he let out heavy exhales. His rosy cheeks seemed extra pigmented, his wet bangs hanging over his forehead when his head fell forward. 

The sensations that you were all feeling were so intense- to the point where the three of you stopped breathing. 

The feeling of two cocks in you was something you could never explain, nothing compared. 

And for the boys? The mixture of the tightness and the groves of another dick against theirs? Insane, but so delicious. 

Sunghoon was the first to start moving, his hesitant thrusts causing butterflies to erupt on all three of your stomachs. 

Once Sunghoon found his tempo, Jake began moving to watch it. Your head was completely empty, your mind focused on nothing but the feeling of them entering and exiting you.

Sunghoon leaned forward towards you, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples while the other one played with the other. His moves were slightly sloppy, imprecise pinches and nibbles alternating between each tit. 

Heeseung noticed it right away, his hand coming out to shoo Sunghoon away with a harsh glare. “If you’re not going to do it right, don’t fucking do it at all.” His lips relaxed Sunghoon’s, the difference between the two more obvious than not.

Your chest arched into Heeseung’s mouth, his eyes fluttering closed as he trailed a line of kisses between each breast, small hickeys getting left at random. 

Jay, feeling left out, moved forward to join. He was already as hard as he was when you started, the sight before him nearly sending him into a spiral.

His hand reached down to circle around your clit, his finger never once directly touching it- he knew no one wanted it to end yet. 

It was clear to the four boys when you got close, your body responding to all their touches differently. Jay now allowed his fingers to make contact, fast circles setting your nerves on fire. 

Sunghoon pushed his hand against your stomach, feeling his cock kiss his palm with every push. The bugs made his fantasies come out, images of you swollen with his kids chasing his hips to push in further. 

His primal instincts won against the rational side of his brain, the desire to fill you up feeling stronger than ever. Realistically, he knew you wouldn’t fall pregnant. The plan b pills and your birth control were proof enough, but it didn’t hurt to pretend- right? 

It was then that he remembered the entire reason why they were doing this. It was to prove a point, wasn’t it? And that’s when he got a great idea, one that made complete sense in his half-conscious brain. 

The other man gave proof, shouldn’t they return the favour? His phone was forgotten by the poolside, same with Jake’s.

He had almost lost hope until his eyes caught your phone on your bedside, his eyes lighting up in relief. “Pass me that phone.” Heeseung did what he was asked without question, his lips, which were now attached to yours, stayed unmoving while he reached over. 

He blindly grabbed at the table, taking the first thing that felt like the phone. He’d passed it to Sunghoon- who accepted it right away. 

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the unfamiliar phone, whose was this? 

He knew you didn’t get a new one, having texted you yesterday asking to hang out- to which you cancelled. 

So whose phone was this? Upon noticing that it was shut down, he quickly powered it on. The screen was blank for a second before messages came flooding in. 

No fucking way. 

You let out a muffled moan at Sunghoon’s sudden harsh trust, Heeseung’s lips still moving against yours. 

And at the same time the cameras clicked, you came. 

All four boys panted around you, two of them releasing inside of you right after you finished. Sunghoon ignored the phone for now, tossing it to the side as he pushed himself as deep as he could- holding his hips in place. Even when Heeseung helped Jake pull out, Sunghoon stayed- plugging your cunt full, refusing to let a drop out.

“Switch? I promise I won’t let it leak out.” Heeseung knew exactly what to say to get Sunghoon to move, and it worked every time. 

Sunghoon and Jake stepped back, allowing the other two to take their place. Sunghoon zoned out while Heeseung and Jay situated themselves, choosing the position they wanted you in. 

Now that he was in a slightly better mindset, the images from the phone came rolling back in.

Why the hell were you getting the messages they’d sent in that group chat? There was no one else in the group except for them and the random number. 

It was nearly impossible for you to get those messages unless you were that random number. Sunghoon raised his eyes back towards you, then to the phone, then back to you.

He noticed that you’d seen him make the connection, and you smiled. Naivety was one game that you had mastered from an early age, it was about time they caught on.

[eternalsunrise]

shower talk.

deadpool (wade wilson) x f!reader

wc: 750 (drabble)

tags! established relationship, sexual & murder references (duh)

notes! wade brainrot is so bad idk, logan fic coming soon pls forgive me

wade often barges into the bathroom while you’re in the shower just to sit on the toilet seat and rant about the mission he just went on, or even to ask what takeout you want for dinner. couldn’t it wait until you had clothes on? sure, but he wants to talk to you now.

unexpectedly, you decide to take a page out of his playbook.

you’ve just walked in the door after your 9-5, throwing your keys and bag haphazardly across the room in frustration. you spy the familiar rumpled up red and black suit on the floor, wade was home. you had complained last week about deadpool tracking blood into the apartment after his “work.” it seemed your boyfriend had listened and obliged. if it weren’t for your bad day, the image of him cupping his crotch as he scrambled naked into the bathroom would’ve made you smile.

you hear the water still running, but you finally understand how wade feels, this can’t wait. you open the bathroom door and throw the toilet lid down, unsure if wade even heard you enter over the sound of his own voice belting hall and oates’ greatest hits.

you sit down and let out an overdramatic sigh. your boyfriend’s voice quiets down halfway through “out of touch”

“honey bear? you’re home! these stab wounds will heal in about two minutes then you can join me. i know how you feel about seeing intestines, and i don’t want to make you gag…well scratch that i do sometimes—“

“i fucking hate men.”

you hear the sound of the shower curtain opening slightly, and wade’s head peaks out, looking at you with wide eyes, “woah language, babydoll! you know degradation turns me on.” his head tilts to the side, noticing the distress written on your face “but i have a feeling this isn’t about me…”

you spare him a narrowed glance, then watch as his head disappears. the curtain closes and you hear the water hit skin again as he resumes his shower. he’s giving you time to speak. remarkable.

“you remember that guy i told you about? the one that gave me major creep vibes? and was just an all around dick?”

you get a hum in response, and you can’t see it, but you know wade is physically biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything. it’s endearing in a way.

you rub your face with your hands, the memory of what you’re about to say lights the fire of anger again, “well. guess who got that promotion i was being eyed for? i’ll give you a hint, it’s not someone with a vagina! and on top of that, i saw him try to look under my skirt as i was leaving! that fuck.”

you almost regretted telling him that last part, knowing where this was going. but your mind was clouded by frustration, and the water was already turned off. the rings screech against the metal shower rod as wade throws the curtain open, reaching over your head for a towel. “okay sweet thing. where does this cock suck and fuck live?”

your eyes catch a glimpse of red turning pink as it swirled into the tub drain. you shake your head, suddenly realizing the severity of what your mercenary boyfriend was implying. “no no babe please it’s not that serious! and you just got home. not to mention if people found out, you’d get in so much trouble all because of something silly that happened to me and—“

a long finger is placed over your lips. you’re eye level with wade’s v line, partially covered by the towel now wrapped around his waist. you trail your eyes upward, locking them with the one who interrupted your rambling.

“shhh. nonsense kitten. now. you’re going to tell me this guy’s address, and i’m going to go out for…” wade uses his free arm to look at a make believe watch, “hmm, about an hour. while i’m gone, you’re going to change out of this sexy pantsuit. then have a glass of wine, and touch yourself while you think of me fondly. i’ll grab dinner on the way home. yes?”

when you nod with wide eyes in agreement, he removes his finger, bending down to meet your face, “atta girl.” he praises as his lips graze your own, kiss light as a feather. he clears his throat then, patting your cheek a few times as he stands up to walk out of the bathroom. whistling as if murder was all in a day’s work (you suppose for him it is)

you sit there stunned, wondering if you just got your coworker murdered….and why you were so turned on.

[maxlarens]

Driver!reader and oscar starting the race from p1&p2 and before they put their helmets and stuff they kiss one last time on the grid and people go like "awwwww" because it was somehow filmed

i feel like u sent this in to be like a concept or something but I HAD to write it. i’ve been writing for lando so much lately i’ve very much been missing oscar + driver!reader. plus i’ve not ever written them in an established relationship before!

It’s not like you and Oscar are a secret.

It might have been easier that way, to keep your relationship from the public’s prying eyes, but it’s not really your style. It’s not Oscar’s either.

Being public comes with its problems— questions from the media, awkward interviews, your respective PR teams going a little buck wild, extra contracts and NDAs to sign— but it also has its benefits.

You like be able to talk about him, like being able to call him your boyfriend. ‘Oscar Piastri, the driver for McLaren? Yeah, that’s my boyfriend’. You like hearing him say things about you, praise your driving skills, talk about you as a rival and as his girlfriend. It’s all you can do to stop grinning like a madwoman whenever you’re in his vicinity. You equally like that the press can’t comment meaningfully on it, can’t speculate wildly about the nature of your relationship when you’ve made it clear.

Some people hate it. They think you’re a silly little girl with her head full of romantic notions. No room for skill, for ruthlessness. Which is funny, given that Oscar receives only praise for “bagging you”. You think they’re just jealous; if not of the fact that Oscar’s dating you and not them, then of your duality. The way you can love Oscar wholeheartedly and also race Oscar wholeheartedly.

They’re not mutually exclusive in your experience.

Naturally, there’s a massive buzz about you and Oscar being P1-P2 on the starting grid.

You’re not particularly surprised. The MCL’s had been performing well all through practice, just as you and Lewis had. You pull out pole in quail, fastest Q1 and Q2, with Oscar hot on your tail. There’s a barrage of bizarre questions in the media pen,

Do you think Oscar’s grid position will impact your performance during the race? Why would it?

Will this affect your relationship with Oscar? No.

What happens if one of you wins and the other doesn’t? The same thing that happens every time anyone wins ever?

You’re confused by it. Bordering on snarky and sarcastic the fifth time someone asks if you and Oscar might break up over this. Rolling your eyes, thinking your true feelings are obvious, you tell some Italian journalist that yeah no we might break up if he doesn’t let me win.

It’s funny, objectively it’s hilarious. You and Oscar laugh over it later that afternoon. Send the clip to a group chat you’re in with a few drivers closer to your age. And so what if it’s still funny when clickbait articles and gossip sites start saying that the two of you have broken up.

There’s even more buzz about it by the morning of the race. Journalists you’ve already talked to have suddenly become convinced that you and Oscar are on the rocks. You can’t help but play into it a bit— partially for the benefit of your PR team— arriving separately, forgoing the couple snap that you usually grace Kym Illman with, giving vague no-comment answers when the media accost you.

Maybe it’s a little childish, a little dramatic. But it serves them right for jumping to conclusions.

You avoid any presenters on the grid walk, sinking into the protective circle made by your engineers. Staying behind the roped off areas until about 10 minutes to race start when you finally hop over the MCL in P2.

Oscar’s drinking water, looking smug when you push through McLaren engineers, so used to your continued presence that they let you in with ease.

“Hey,” you greet, reaching out to smooth the collar of his fireproofs, “How’s it goin’?”

“Mm,” he hums, cutting a glance behind you, which you take to mean that there are cameras trained on the two of you, a reporter trying to get your attention maybe, “I’d be better if I was on pole.”

You hiss mockingly, “Yeah, too bad. You gonna break up with me about it?”

He raises an eyebrow, lashes brushing his cheekbones as he looks down at you, “I didn’t know you read F1 gossip sites?”

You shrug in response, “Don’t need to. The media make enough noise about it.”

He hums again, smile pulling at his mouth while someone from Mercedes shouts at you to get back. Rachel probably. You should go, you really should. But Oscar’s so close and so cute in those black fireproofs.

“Good luck,” you say,

leaning forward to kiss him, hand on the back of his head. A slip of tongue, not so much to be publicly obscene, but enough to leave him wanting,

“You’ll need it.”

You hear the sweet sound of him laughing as you slip away, back to where your car is sitting on pole. Ignoring the reporter dogging at your heels for a comment you don’t really need to give.

like maybe unrealistic. who cares!

[artemisdesari-blog]

Sometimes being the mum who exists in fandom spaces leads to awkward, even concerning, conversations. Such as the one which happened this morning. The mum of my daughter's best mate asked me if one of their mutual friends had sent her a specific message. This message was a link to a fic on ao3, if this had been a G rated fic this conversation would not have happened. It was not G rated. It was an E rated fic. Our kids aren't even 12 yet. As it happens, both of our kids have their internet access heavily locked down and monitored. They have phones because of how their school manages homework. The mutual friend, however, is not so monitored. Or she wasn't, given what her mum found she's about to be. This kid had found a fandom, joined it, and found it chock full of antis. The fic had been sent to her by one of them as an example of the sort of terrible people out there who need to be harassed and attacked because they wrote a smutty story.

Someone thought it was appropriate to send written porn to an 11 year old to encourage her to attack the author.

This resulted in a very awkward conversation where I had to explain to multiple horrified parents the anti culture that is becoming so prevalent. The fact that there are adults who use that purity message to groom kids. The way they escalate and how it bleeds into real life. One parent told me she'd wondered why her 14 year old was suddenly concerned about the two year age gap between her parents. The more I explained, the more absolutely ludicrous it sounded and the more baffled these poor mums looked. More than once I was told "but the characters aren't real, it's really weird but it isn't hurting anyone". Which is the point. The fictional situation isn't hurting anyone. The person who sent porn to an 11 year old is.

Was the person who sent it the author? Doubtful, that thing was tagged in the extreme. Was the person who sent it an adult? Almost certainly. The parent who's child received the original message has found more concerning stuff and gone to the police, but from the language the person doing the sending was in the US. We aren't. Did my daughter receive it? No, she isn't interested in that fandom and therefore wouldn't have bothered with it. Is this the fault of the author? No, they didn't send the link, they didn't ask to be harassed, they wrote a story and put it on ao3, the website created in response to rampant censorship and designed to allow for all kinds of fiction. Is this the fault of the parents? Partially, they should have been looking at their daughter's internet use and clocked what was happening sooner. Is this the fault of the child? No, she's 11, she didn't know better.

This has been a difficult day. Multiple parents have had their eyes opened to parts of fandom culture they had no idea existed. And the thing of it is, they aren't concerned about the why of anti rhetoric. They don't care about the adults writing about teens or rape or incest or torture or any of the rest, because they looked at the clearly tagged and rated fics and figured that it worked the same as a warning on any streaming service. They only cared because some utterly vile individual decided to expose their child to something this girl might not have looked at for years.

Proshippers did not cause what I have spent afternoon helping several sets of parents navigate. Antis did. Normally I'm fairly quiet about the whole debate because I just want to get on with my life and share my experiences. Today I got dragged into that mess in my every day life and the adults in the equation didn't react the way Antis like to think they would. They didn't condemn the author. They condemned the anti who shared the work with a preteen.

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ KISSIN' AND HOPE THEY CAUGHT US ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you and him kiss—a lot—while the stream's still going, but neither of you notice

contents: fem!reader. pda written by someone who doesn't particularly like pda. gets a little suggestive around the end. inumaki tells satoru 'kys' multiple times. not proofread.

author's note: kissin' and hope they caught us, whether they like or not, i wanna show you off, i wanna show you offff

"i swear you guys are really out to get me," satoru groans, addressing the flood of comments filling up his chatbox. he spins around in his chair, tilting his head back and exhaling when he stops. you watch him shake his hair out of his eyes and grin at the camera, just like he does every time he's getting ready to end the stream.

"okay, guys, that's enough, i gotta go," satoru says, right on cue. he partially turns around and shoots a rueful smile your way, taking a quick moment to admire the way you look all cozied up on his couch. and it's only an added bonus that you're even wearing his hoodie—the same one he wore on your first date.

turning back to the screen, satoru stretches his arms and waves. "see ya tomorrow, can't wait. except for you, toji, and inumaki too. fuck you guys," he adds, snorting when he sees their replies just a moment later.

inumaki: kys!!!

inumaki has been kicked from the stream by satoru-gojo.

"aw, and we were almost about to set a new streak of one day without me kicking inumaki," satoru sighs, shaking his head dramatically. "maybe one day we'll even make it to two streams, but i think that'll take a couple centuries." satoru laughs and waves offhandedly, clicking the 'x' in the corner of his stream to end it.

he switches tabs to go back to his previous game's stats and turns around again, spinning his chair to face you. satoru opens his arms and beckons you with both his hands, a puppy-like shine in his eyes. "c'mere, lemme hold you for a little," he says, smiling wider when you begrudgingly get up from your spot on his couch.

"i was so comfy," you mumble, wrapping your arms around yourself as you walk over to satoru. if his stream was still on, you'd probably be on camera now.

"i'll make you even comfier," satoru insists, grabbing your hand and tugging you into his lap. his arms snake around your waist and hold you snugly against his chest, hands slipping into the pockets of your hoodie. "you look so cute, wearin' my hoodie like that," he smiles, kissing your cheek affectionately.

"satoru, your lips are cold," you grumble, leaning away from his mouth—but you don't put that much distance between you two, considering his snug grip on your torso. satoru ignores your protests and kisses you again, peppering kisses all over the side of your face.

"you're so—fuckin'—cute," satoru murmurs, punctuating each word with a kiss. his lips are soft and you can feel them warm up a little more with each press to your cheek. his minty breath tickles your face as he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, decorating your face with his lips.

"what's the occasion?" you ask tentatively, looking at satoru's blushing face out of the corner of your eye. he tilts his head and shrugs, and you feel his chest rise and fall as he does so.

"do i need an excuse to kiss my girlfriend?" satoru replies cheekily, rubbing your tummy through the pockets of your hoodie. "my hands are cold, baby, wanna warm them up?"

"huh—"

satoru doesn't wait for an answer before he tugs your hands into your pockets with his, hiding a smile at the little indignant sound you make. "you're so cute, i just wanna eat you up," satoru mumbles, scrunching up his nose. his white hair falls into his eyes for the thousandth time, and he blows out a puff of air in an attempt to clear up his vision. it doesn't work—his hair just falls right back into his eyes.

so you extract your hands from where they're clasped in between satoru's and brush back his hair, fingertips lingering on the sides of his face. he turns his head and presses his lips to the palm of one of your hands, cold lips curling into a smile at the cat-like look on your face.

"how was the stream today?" you ask, leaning into his chest. satoru shrugs again, kissing the top of your head.

"fine, i won a couple rounds," satoru says indifferently. his attention is on you, only you—right now, his stream and his games are at the back of his mind. "don't change the subject, baby."

you huff in disbelief, nudging your elbow against his chest. "what even was the subject?"

"me wanting to eat you up," satoru replies instantly. he grins playfully, hugging you tighter and burying his face in your hair. "c'mon, you know you wanna—"

the flickering red dot in the top-right corner of his screen catches your eye, and you practically flinch out of his arms. satoru looks at you, confusion evident on every part of his face. "what is it, baby?"

you groan and lean away from him and closer to his table, dragging the mouse over to one of his tabs and clicking it open. and just like that, satoru realizes that this entire time you've been live. to thousands of people. for five whole minutes.

"oops," satoru says with a sheepish smile, scratching his head bashfully. you turn and shoot a venomous look at him, and he laughs nervously. "oh, uh, that's my bad, honey—"

"you're dead," you mutter, grinning when satoru shrinks back into his chair. satoru swallows and gives you a thumbs-up, gently nudging you out of the way to check the comments.

yuuji-itadori: aw they're so cute together :)

toji-fushiguro: she can do so much better

inumaki: how does this loser have more streams than me. kys kys kys!!!!!

inumaki has been banned from the stream by satoru-gojo.

[dewdlebot]

I swear I must be straight up allergic to OT3’s not being shipped all together because everytime I see a trio only being partially shipped (I.e. only two of the trio being together) all I can think of is where’s the other one???? Where’s is your other girlfriend/boyfriend/nonbinaryfriend??? This is a POLYCULE in this house!!!

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 3 GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 1

As you can see by the title (I need better ideas, you're all welcome to share yours), this is kinda part of "Danny, the Youg Justice member" but as something I have more of actual idea about. So while I encourage people adding their stuff to other snippets, please let this one be. I will be adding to it. It's even partially written :D

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 2

"Hey guys" Danny greeted clearly winded, phasing through the wall. Whole Team turned towards him, some giving him a side eye “Sorry I’m late” 

“You’re good, my dude” Wally answered, patting him on the back as soon as halfa landed, turning into his human form. They gave him a moment to catch his breath(just how fast he tried to fly there?) before grabbing their bags. Dick jumped and threw himself over the speedster's and halfa’s shoulders.

“Happy Harbour, we’re coming!” he yelled.

He fixed his grip when he caught Danny’s quick wince under the pressure as they left the headquarters. Judging by look on his face, Kaldur caught it too.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“There is an amusement park in city, so we’re going to enjoy our free time there” M’gann explained with excited smile “I can’t wait to see it, I heard it’s fun”

Artemis nodded with a grin.

“I bet I can win more plushies than all of you. No powers,” she demanded after a moment, slamming her hand n a random tree for better dramatic effect.

“Stakes?” he asked, competitive like always. While blonde shared her idea of ‘no locker room duties for a month’, Danny explained all the questions M’gann asked about what even bet was and what stakes meant. Dick was sure she knew the answers to all of them but he didn’t say anything. He was trained well enough to catch Conner listening intently, despite his clear effort to hide it.

It turned into a whole Team competition.

It was going to be an aster.

***

M’gann was having a blast. Everyone already had two to four plushies, stomach full of unhealthy food and manageable nausea from the roller coaster. Wally and Danny were throwing popcorn to each other's mouths, Robin challenged Conner and Artemis to the next game. It really was fun just like she was told!

It was much less fun when literal blast shot a few feets away from them. Ground where it hit was burned. Halfa squealed, projecting a strong wave of distress. Without second thought he threw his hood on and changed his posture, frantically looking for a hiding spot.

Few children started crying, their families scrambling to get away before attackers started shooting again and hurt them. Workers, already used to working in less than ideal circumstances, quickly, but without panic warranted by recognised villains or outright invasion, shut down reinforced blinds and probably walked out to inform someone. At least they didn’t have to worry about potential civilian casualties. 

“Do you know who they are?” M’gann asked, quickly establishing the Mindlink.

“Don’t worry about it” he answered, putting on crazy big sunglasses that Wally won some time before.

“My dude, we just got shot at. We have every right to worry”

“Calm down, Wally. I got shot at, you’re just close by. I’ll handle it” With a ruffle of his hair and a piece of popcorn thrown in his mouth,he turned around, just moment after the next blast almost caught his arm. He plastered a smile on his face.

“Hey, I’ve seen guns like these in laser tag! But I’ve never found them cheap enough to get without selling my kidney!” he yelled enthusiastically.

When the rest of them turned around, M’gann saw ten people in sunglasses and pristine white, holding guns straight from the mad scientist’s lab. THey stood still, projecting surprise bordering on shock. She could also feel hunter's happiness underneath it, intense enough that she considered breaking the ‘don’t mess with people’s brains’ rule. As a treat.

“Don’t worry guys, they won’t harm you. Act like you  don’t believe you’re in danger. Like they're a bunch of LARPers or something” It was easier said than done, especially when Danny, who nearly always underestimated the danger, was so terrified. 

“Who are they?!”

“Wally throw me a bit of popcorn, please” Halfa asked, ignoring Artemis almost yelling in their minds. In turn, he was ignored by the speedster. Three of the men turned to check something on weird sort of scanner. Danny's false smile went from cheerful to embarrassed. 

“Dang me and my poor communication skills” he said, loud enough for men to hear but not enough to sound like he was talking to them, before asking louder “I meant to ask, where have you brought it and how much does it cost?”

This seemed to actually shake men out of their shock. They got furious.

“You won't trick us this time, ghost scum” one of the guys with a scanner snarled. Danny pursed his lips in childish gesture of displeasure.

“Rude much” he muttered as if he wasn’t shining with terror like a lighthouse. Robin perked up as if something got him curious.

“Wait, ghost? What do–”

“What are you cosplaying?” Artemis blurted out. Men got visibly angry but Danny smirked.

“Don't antagonize them,” Kaldur commended. 

“If shit goes south I'll get you out of there, half a second flat” Wally offered.

“Thanks dude. Good job Artemis, they hate to be treated like a joke they are” halfa praised but out loud asking:

“Ghostbusters? No, they had different uniforms. But who else got a thing for ghosts?”

“Quit joking around, we caught you Phantom! You ran far from Amity Park but-”

“Who is Phantom?” Robin interrupted rudely (they deserved to be rude to them).

“Where is Amity Park, Utah? Cali?”  Conner asked, adding fuel to the fire of chaos with barely contained glee. He liked messing with anyone even slightly resembling Kadmus staff and these guys marked almost all of the boxes.

“Illinois” provided chubby man who looked and felt like he didn't want to be there almost as much as they teens did. Danny relaxed slightly.

“Agent W you have no clearance to share this information“

“You were in Illinois and didn't tell me, Tommy?” M’gann finally spoke, jokingly punching his arm.

“I wasn't, I swear! I've never set a foot outside of this state in my life!”

“Quit messing around, you freak!!!” the guy, with the biggest ego and probably the leader, screamed.

“Can I please mess their heads up?”  M’gann asked, pushing hope through Mindlink as hard as she could.

“Again, rude. What did I even do to deserve that?”

“Like you–”

“Operative K, I think they really don't know anything “ Agent W, the nicest out of the batch, interrupted “Maybe it left some ectoplasm on this boy to throw us off?”

“They called you it, Danny” Conner seethed, looking like only Kaldur’s hand on his shoulder was stopping him from punching all of them straight to the sun. M’gann was already reaching for their minds.

“We need to run a scan to be sure. Come here boy”

“Now, who are you?!” Robin got defensive, sliding to shield Danny from asiliants. Conner and Artemis joined him, so clearly furious that M’gann almost retreated from Mindlink. She wasn’t any calmer, it just felt overwhelming to be backed up by five other people.

“It’s classified”

Kaldur took a photo with an obnoxiously loud sound effect. Wally appeared right behind Danny, ready to evacuate him. Artemis barely kept herself from tackling the nearest ‘agent’ to the ground.

“What are you doing, boy?” Operative K splurted, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Calling the police”

“Why?”

“Robin, throw some laws, please”

“Oh, that’s easy,” the boy jumped in gleefully “You assaulted our friend and refused to state why you would have credentials to do so or even who are you. You carry modified weaponry openly in public and I doubt you have a permit, carelessly use it  against minors, endangering innocent bystanders while we’re at it. You disturb public peace. I think that’s enough to get you arrested. Wait you know what, call ‘Supervillain emergency hotline’ instead, this is serious attack”

“Right ahead of you, already calling them”

It wasn’t that big of a problem even if someone tried to qualify this as spam. Young Justice Team was first to respond to all threats in Happy Harbour anyway.

Danny let out a low ‘uuuu’ with a smirk. Someone powered up a gun. Wally slightly raised halfa of the ground, ready to bolt.

“It’s okay young man,” the nice agent started, raising his hands in a placating gesture “We’re searching for a dangerous supernatural entity and may have overreacted. In our defense, Phantom is known to be tricky and we wouldn’t be surprised if it used human disguise to hide from us. Your friend gives off the same type of energy like what we use to track it so we assumed they’re the same. We’re sorry”

“Agent W you don’t have clearance to disclose that to-”

“Operative K, after the last few incidents we have to be more throughout before jumping to assumptions. Agent Gamma wouldn’t be pleased if your temper caused the next scandal,” Agent W look at them again, with a forced ‘warm’ smile “We’re really sorry for bothering you. We have reasons to believe Phantom is somewhere around but don’t worry about it, we will be on the lookout. If you see it, please contact us and we will take care of it” M’gann grabbed the ‘WANTED’ poster from man’s outstretched hand. She barely restrained herself from doing something irresponsible, like turning every man in white into a brainless vegetable.

“Later M'gann”

“But Robin…” she whined before sending a small laugh so they knew she wasn’t serious. She knew that Conner and Danny were anxious about this use of her powers.

Agent’s left and everyone relaxed. Wally put Danny back down and leaned back, jokingly rolling back his arms as if he got tired. Halfa stopped with a loud thump to sit on the ground. He was paler than usual.

Artemis shouted, alarmed.

“That was way too close” he started, aiming for a cheerful tone but missing by a mile “I’m fine, just need a moment to cool down. Sorry for that, guys. I thought I lost them over Ohio”

“That’s fine, personally I don’t care, we knew better than to expect a whole day without something going wrong, but who were they?” Wally asked, already back to eating popcorn.

Danny sighed, so deeply M’gann felt it in her bones even though she didn’t try to read him.

“I think this is the talk we should have in the Mountain”

[norrizzandpia]

Heyyy ages ago when you wrote "She's missed you" you mentioned you would write about reader being close to Oscar's family and taking his sister's for coffee, would you consider writing something like that please I'd love to read it

This has been in my inbox for some time but i remember when i first got it going, “FINALLY SOMEONE ASKED ME TO DO THIS” I absolutely love this idea i just didn’t know if that was something yall wanted to see!!

Y/n and the Piastri Sisters, the Piastri Sisters and Y/n

Summary: Oscar knew that Y/n and his sisters were close, but to wake up on a Saturday morning to find all of them gone, he wonders if he really underestimated how much the girls loved each other’s company.

Warnings: none, absolute FLUFF, cutest thing i think ive ever written lowkey, yn and Oscar being relationship GOALS (i want what they have), one remark about Oscar wanting to plan their wedding

What Oscar expects when he wakes is Y/n’s head shoved into the crook of his neck, breathing deeply as she slept. He’s always the one to wake up and, while he used to hate that when sleeping at his friends’ houses, he learned to cherish it. Cherish it because it gave him the opportunity to admire the beauty of his girlfriend when she wouldn’t see and blush whilst pushing him away. The soft dip at the top of her lip, the freckles around her nose, and the strands of her hair splayed across his pillow were all things he loved to stare at when he got the privilege of waking up before her. Yet, to his dismay, this morning when his eyes fluttered open, his girlfriend is nowhere to be found.

Frowning, he rises from the bed and looks around. Her clothes from last night are still flung over his desk chair, but her purse, the black bag that was right beside the clothing just hours before, is gone. His confused expression deepens and he moves to the bathroom, finding the door closed. He assumes she’s in there, maybe having brought her purse in because she had gotten her period and needed the tampons from it. However, that idea soon falls apart when he remembers the basket he’d set up underneath his sink with everything she could possibly need if she ever were to get it whilst at his house. And he knows there’s no way she has it seeing as two weeks ago she had pushed him away when he was trying to have… fun and told him it would be too messy.

Plus, the bathroom is weirdly silent and when he knocks on the door, “Baby?”, nobody answers. It creaks as he pushes it open and the small room is completely empty. Void of his girl.

The image of Oscar Piastri, in only his boxers, standing in the midst of his bathroom with knotted eyebrows and his arms stretched out at his side with his palms facing up would make anyone chuckle. He’s so genuinely lost at the lack of Y/n and it’s written all over him. From the way his eyes dart from the bed, maybe he had somehow missed her, to the door, it’s clear he’s trying to figure it all out in his head.

Finally, he comes to realize that the only logical explanation is that she’s downstairs or somewhere else in the house. So, his body takes him to the hallway outside. No Y/n. Then, he walks down to the kitchen and living room. No Y/n. Maybe the dining room? Nope.

Where the hell is Y/n?

He remembers a time when he was having trouble locating the girl and had only found her because her giggling had echoed throughout the whole house. That time, she had been with his sister in her room. Oscar loves how close his three sisters and Y/n are, but it makes him groan in annoyance when they steal his moments alone with her.

He goes to Hadie’s room first, but he finds it empty. Weird. Usually, the girl sleeps in late and, if not, she’s almost always in there.

Then, it’s Mae’s and he finds the same thing. Completely empty.

Lastly is Edie and he’s partially not surprised to find it’s empty as well.

Now, he’s wondering where his sisters are.

“Mom?!” He yells into the house, hoping his mother can alert him on where the majority of the women in his life have gone to.

He hears soft steps before his mother’s face appears at the bottom of the stairs, “Yes, love?”

Oscar patters down to her, looking completely helpless and lost. She frowns at him, noting her son’s lack of enthusiasm.

He huffs like a disgruntled toddler before whining, “Where’s Y/n? Or Hadie? Or Edie? Or Mae? I can’t find Y/n and when I went to look for her, I found all of them gone.”

Nicole chuckles before patting his shoulder lovingly, “They all went out to get Starbucks around thirty minutes ago.”

His head rears back, “What? Why? Why wasn’t I invited?”

Nicole smiles softly before turning around to walk into the kitchen. Oscar follows her closely behind, waiting for her answer, but she takes her time as she cleans dishes from, what he can assume, was her breakfast earlier.

Her hands wet and soapy, she lets her eyes drift to him, “They wanted girl time and Y/n didn’t want to wake you. She knew you were exhausted from the triple-header. She told me if you woke up running around the house and looking for her to tell you they’d be back soon and with coffee for you.”

He softens at that. How well she knows him always melts his heart. The exhaustion from all the races and the sleep he craved, she knew all too well. His coffee order, which he was confident she would get right, was something she had already thought of from the beginning of this escapade. The way she knew he would be slightly panicked, wanting her for their slow morning together, made him feel seen randomly. As she always says, to be loved is to be seen.

Still, he’s a bit disappointed he didn’t get to spend a morning with his sisters and his girlfriend. His mother must see this on his face because she shuts off the water and lays a hand over his.

“You know, it’s okay to feel left out, but you should also know that I’ve never seen any prior girlfriend of yours this close with your sisters. They look up to her and when she started reaching out, asking if they wanted to play games or go out and do something together, their eyes lit up. You’re entitled to want to be with them this morning, but promise me you’ll acknowledge the effort Y/n continuously puts in to bond with the girls you’ve always wanted to protect.” She states softly. Her eyes lock with Oscar’s and she recognizes the understanding in them, the sudden realization. Maybe he hadn’t picked up on how hard Y/n had been trying, but Nicole definitely had. She saw the way Y/n always brought up topics of conversation the sisters could relate to, the way she always listened to their every word, and the way she learned their interests before using those things to bond. Nicole will never forget Mae telling Y/n about a book she had read only for Y/n to come back a week later saying she had read the book and couldn’t wait to talk about it with Mae.

Nobody was really interested in reading in the Piastri family the way Mae was. But, now, there was Y/n.

Oscar nods, “I guess it never really dawned on me how close Y/n was to them, but I see it now. If they’re comfortable enough to be hanging out alone, without me, then I guess they’re further along than I thought.”

“You should’ve heard them leaving this morning. The amount of laughter leaving the door was the cutest. Not to mention the way they joked about having to fear for their life while Y/n drove and Y/n responding about turning into you. The girls have never sounded that excited.” Nicole’s smile is big. Oscar knows it’s because she always wanted a bigger sister the close-in-age sisters could have to guide them. He loves that his mother believes that to be Y/n.

A moment of silence passes before Oscar asks, “How’d this end up happening? I know they didn’t talk about going out this morning last night when Y/n got here. I know because I was with her the majority of the night. Did the girls wake up and ask her? Did they come into our room?”

Nicole shakes her head quickly, “No,” She laughs, “It was Y/n. Y/n set an alarm to wake herself up, I know because I heard it, and then surprised them all by waking them up from their beds and rambling about getting coffee in their pajamas. It was all her. I assume she’d been planning it since yesterday, but just forgot to tell you. When you went to the bathroom last night, she turned to me and asked if the girls had any plans in the morning. When I told her no, she just nodded her head with a smile and turned away.”

Oscar feels as though he could start planning the Y/l/n-Piastri wedding right then and there. To know she’s gone out of her way to get to know his siblings, someone she knows he loves so dearly, gives him confirmation Y/n and him are together for the long haul. Nobody has ever nurtured a relationship with his sisters this heavily before. He falls in love with her more because of it.

Just as he’s about to speak, the front door flies open and roars of laughter flood through. He smiles to himself before turning around to see his girlfriend in the midst of all the sisterly chaos. His eyes land on her first, seeing her looking at Hadie with a smile on her face. He’s not sure what Hadie’s done, but it seems to be the funniest thing she’s ever experienced with the way she’s almost doubled over in laughter. Edie stands next to her, but when some of her coffee spills out and onto the floor, all four girls almost fall to the floor, borderline wheezing. The laughter is infectious and Oscar finds himself joining in. He can only imagine the kind of heart eyes he must be sporting right now.

His steps take him closer to the girls and when Hadie sees him, her face contorts, “Ugh, not you. You’ve come to take her away!”

All his sisters nod as they cross their arms over their chests, mischievous grins on their faces. He only shakes his head, smiling at them too.

“It’s only fair, I’m afraid.” Y/n begins as she walks toward him. He pulls her into him by the waist and she smiles, kissing him on the cheek, before handing him his coffee, his order completely right. “You guys got me all morning and, not to mention, all last week when he was gone. I’ve got to tend to my girlfriend duties now.”

The sisters nod their heads slowly, begrudgingly. Oscar laughs at the fact that they most likely wish he didn’t exist so they could have Y/n all to themselves. Ironically, he adores that.

“You guys hung out all last week?” He asks when Y/n’s previous statement catch up to him.

They look at him as if it’s obvious. “Yeah,” Y/n says as he continues to hold her against him, “Who do you think convinced them to get matching pajamas?”

It’s only then that Oscar clocks the matching sets his girlfriends and sisters are all sharing. His mouth falls open and his cheeks redden. He’s not exactly sure why he blushes, but he thinks it’s because he can’t believe how lucky he’s gotten to have a girl like Y/n fall in love with him.

When all four girls start rambling, at first to him but then to each other, about how much they love their matching pajamas, Oscar feels eyes on him. His head moves to the side and he finds his mother peering her head around the corner to admire the scene in the doorway.

If the way his mother and sisters all look at Y/n tells him anything, it’s that they will not be letting her go for a while. Neither will he, though.

[hyunverse]

wherever you are ☆ hwang hyunjin.

hyunjin x fem!reader. childhood best friends to lovers. slowburn, pining. fluff, angst. suggestive. a hyunjin birthday special.

wc: 12.9k words.

warnings: reader often referred to as "girl," suggestive. mentions of sex.

note: this fic is my baby. it might be one of my favourite things i've ever written so far, please treat it well <3 feedbacks are very much appreciated.

playlist.

Hyunjin promised you that he'll be wherever you are. What do you do when your best friend of years — the only person you've ever loved disappears without saying goodbye? Especially when you've spent your entire life with Hyunjin, you didn't know of life without him.

one.

“Happy Birthday, Hyunjin.”

It was Hyunjin’s 10th birthday. 

Despite already singing him a happy birthday song, you muttered the wish once again in the comfort of his tree house. He sat adjacent to you, feet dangling over the platform, the large leaves hovering over the tree house’s roof providing shelter from the blinding sunlight. 

He hummed in gratitude, eyes busy watching Kkami running around below the tree house. Afternoons with Hyunjin were often spent like this — hanging out in the tree house as Kkami played around on the grass, its barks mirroring its happiness. For years, you’ve spent enjoying the fact that your afternoons were spent like this — were spent with Hyunjin, in childish innocence. 

After letting the silence take over for a while, Hyunjin turned his head towards you, a little surprised once he saw that you were already looking at him. He tried his best to not let his surprise show. 

“Why did you want to come up here? I thought you were enjoying the party inside.” 

Indeed, you were enjoying the birthday party, a little too much for Hyunjin’s liking. The boys from Hyunjin’s school came to the party, and you seemed to get along with them quickly, despite being the only girl at the party. Hyunjin hates to admit it but he was a little envious. He told himself that he’s jealous because he’s your number one best friend, so you should pay more attention to him. It was true, but only partially — he was jealous because they were all boys. Not that he would ever admit that to himself.

To Hyunjin’s question, you responded by extending your arms to him, revealing a white box in your palm. He took it, quickly recognizing it as a jewellery box. He’s received one of them after purchasing a Mother’s Day gift. Quietly, he examined the engravings on the box, and the pristine look of it. Honestly, he was impressed by how clean you have kept it. You had always been one to dirty your white clothes. 

“What’s this?” he asked, answering his own enquiry by opening the box with you sitting close, peering over his hands.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat.

In the box laid two necklaces, black strings with Lego pieces as pendants. They were matching necklaces. The Lego piece of each necklace formed a heart when joined together. His brown eyes widened, in disbelief of the gift. He’s never received something like this — something matching. It made his heart flutter — no, it beat faster than it does while playing soccer. Hyunjin turned to look into your eyes, and it was as though he had found a new revelation in yours. The more Hyunjin looked at you, the more the realization seeped in, until it overtook his senses.

You’re a girl. 

You weren’t just the kid from next door, you weren’t like his other friends — you’re a girl. You like Disney princesses, you have a pretty face, you like Sanrio characters, you have soft hair, you like painting nails, you have pink lips from your strawberry lip balm, you like matching necklaces — you’re a girl. 

A very pretty girl.

It felt like a revelation after having been friends with you for over five years. As though the necklaces in the box held some sort of power to snap one from a trance. Hyunjin realized that you were different from his other friends. For one, you have softer hands. Moreover, you’re someone he can develop a crush on — or whatever girls call it. 

His finger traced the pendants, feeling the bumps of the Lego pieces. He smiled, one that reached his ears. You felt yourself releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. 

“I love it soooo much. Thank you.”

Unlike other boys (the stinky ones from your school), Hyunjin didn’t cringe at the gift. The way he gently examined the necklaces mirrored the appreciation he felt towards it. If he was any other boy, he would’ve probably laughed at the gift, then poked fun at you. 

Then again, Hyunjin had never been like the other boys you knew.

He was different in the way he spoke softly to you (softer than he would to his guy friends), and how he would let you change the TV channel from Snoopy to Totally Spies. He had always been different, that being the reason why you were so fond of him. 

“You like it? Really?” you queried, staring at him. You watched his expressions carefully, trying to sense for any lies.

“Really! Which one do you want?” he answered, absolutely no hesitations. He wasn’t lying.

Hyunjin panned the box towards you, prompting you to pick which necklace. One was in black, the other in white. As always, he gave in to you, letting you be the one to choose. 

“White!”

The sun was setting when you both swayed your legs, wearing the matching necklaces. Hyunjin was genuinely happy, one of his hands wouldn’t stop fiddling with the pendant. The party was still lively inside, but he much preferred sitting with you — his one and only best friend. 

“Yn,” your best friend’s voice broke you from your trance. “What do you want for your birthday?” 

“Hm,” you pondered, tapping your pointer on your chin in a cartoonish manner.

He was looking at you, an expectant expression on his face. You pulled up your legs to cross them as you thought. 

“I think…” your voice trailed, “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, “at least make it something I could give you!”

You pouted, “but that’s what I want!” 

The boy sighed, laying back on the rough surface of the tree house. He looked up, observing the little glow-in-the-dark stars plastered onto the tree house ceiling. He recalled putting them up with you. You were impossible to deal with. Hyunjin desperately wanted to know your wish — something he could give you for your birthday. Your gift to him made him really happy, and he wished to return the favour. 

“Then, I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris with you.” 

It was such an innocent, child-like answer — straight from a 10-year-old’s desire. Untainted by the boulevard of broken dreams. As if anything in the world was possible, and that the universe was kind all the time. 

“Really?” you chirped, looking at him with disbelief in your eyes. You giggled in glee and plopped yourself down beside him. “Really really? You really really really mean it, Hyunnie?” 

At that point, Hyunjin could only giggle and nod. “Of course! I’ll be wherever you are.”

The manner in which you hugged him expressed your excitement. You were practically suffocating him, wrapping your legs around his waist and squeezing tightly. 

“You’re my best friend in the world!” 

Hyunjin felt like he could die. 

His heart continued beating rapidly, worsened by you nuzzling your face into his neck. Hyunjin knew, it was just you being your usual self. However, the revelation he experienced minutes earlier made the tips of his ears turn red. 

“Hyunjin! Come down here! Your friends are about to leave!”

At that very moment, Hyunjin silently thanked his mother for saving him.

two.    

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”

A question which had you staring into space — the walls of Hyunjin’s bedroom for a while. The blue walls were plastered with posters of numerous musicians and self-made artworks.

It wasn’t that you didn’t know the answer. You knew. Ballet had been a part of your life since small, it was your everything. It wasn’t that you were unsure if you wanted to do ballet, you were unsure if you should be doing ballet. 

Uneasiness settled into your stomach, but you tried to keep them in. You were in no mood to be going through an identity crisis.

“Ballerina,” you stated, matter-of-factly. Your eyebrows furrowed when Hyunjin chuckled.

“What?”

“Your answer hasn’t changed,” Hyunjin laughed, but not in a humorous way. Rather, it was in an expectant way, as if he knew that’s what you would answer. 

You straightened your posture and tilted your head. Hyunjin laughed even more, making a comment that you looked like Kkami.

“Have you asked me the same thing before?”

He nodded, “sort of? Kind of. On my tenth birthday, I asked you what you wanted.” Hyunjin cleared his throat and took a deep breath, mimicking the voice of younger you. “I want to be the best ballerina in the world and move to Paris!”

“Oh, shut up!” you rumbled, hitting him with his bolster repeatedly. “That’s not how I sounded like!”

“It so was!” 

Truthfully, you couldn’t quite recall the memory. You didn’t doubt Hyunjin though, it did sound like something you would’ve said. 

You queried again.

“What did you answer then?” 

Hyunjin turned silent. He didn’t like where this was going, not fond of recalling the cheesy answer he gave you. As he looked away from your gaze, you pressed him further. Even threatened to dog-nap Kkami.

“Fine. I said… I said I’ll be the best artist in the world and move to Paris too…” his voice trailed, getting smaller, “said I’ll be wherever you are…”

Your eyebrows raised, scooting closer to him in mock confusion. “Sorry? Didn’t hear you.” 

A pillow hit your head, and you burst out into peals of laughter. It was hilarious, the cheesy answer little Hyunjin gave, but what amused you even more was his face turning red. 

Touches of laughter echoed in the room, and Hyunjin found himself praying the moment would last forever. The conversation quickly escalated into a pillow fight, ending up in Hyunjin leaning against his headboard, exhausted, and you laying on his lap. 

You looked up at him, eyes fleeting to the stubble growing. Mindlessly, you grazed his cheek, feeling his sideburns prickling against your thumb. 

He was growing, you realized it then. You were growing too. Neither of you were little kids anymore.

A fact you didn't want to accept.

It’s the softness of your fingers that froze Hyunjin in his tracks. He held his breath, as if you would stop if he moved. He didn’t want you to, wanted to let your fingers linger, to etch the sensation into his memories. 

In a soft tone, you spoke, “Did you really mean it?”

“Hm?”

“Would you be wherever I am?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, a lump growing in his throat. If he spoke, he feared his feelings would become too real. For as long as he could, he wanted to bury his feelings deep down. Life was already risky as it is, he didn’t want to take any more.

It’s platonic. It’s platonic. It’s platonic.

They repeated in his brain like a mantra. Maybe if he chanted it, it’ll manifest to life.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin swallowed, “of course I will. You’re my best friend.” 

Like magic, your worries about the future disappeared into thin air. Would it be foolish to trust Hyunjin so much, that you believed life would be fine as long as he was with you? 

Dear universe, be good to me.

You smiled, one that Hyunjin swore could light up the entire sky. The stars must envy you, for the way you could brighten up darkness effortlessly. 

“I’ll be wherever you are too.”

Yeah, Hyunjin would love it if time froze.

three.  

Don’t be a coward. 

Four words Hyunjin told his reflection as he got ready. He was dressed in a basic tee and a pair of jeans, hair slicked back like the one time you told him it looked good. He spritzed his cologne behind his ears, on his neck, and on his wrist before repeating the four words again. This time, he whispered it, letting it soak into his brain, in hopes his heart would have courage. 

It’s been too long. The feelings he harboured for you piled overtime, the crush he once thought was temporary transforming into fondness. It was becoming too much for Hyunjin’s heart to bear, he needed to let it out. If he didn’t, he felt like his heart could burst. And if it did, it would be confetti-shaped memories of you. 

Chatters echoed outside your ballet academy, Hyunjin watched through the lowered window for your face among the sea of people. He had a plan in mind — he’d open the door for you, put the seatbelt on for you, and tell you about his feelings. In front of your academy wasn’t the most ideal place for a confession, he knew, but God — he couldn’t bear sitting in silence with you as a storm raged in his head. He couldn’t do it. He wanted to say it as soon as he could. 

Hyunjin’s eyes were still busy looking for you when suddenly, your face came in his peripheral vision, along with another face. The other person was lean, jet black hair with bangs and puppy-like eyes. The boy opened the door for you before Hyunjin could. 

Okay, step number one failed. 

“Hey, Hyunnie!” your voice chirped, getting into the car. Your hand moved to buckle your seatbelt before Hyunjin could. He was too busy analysing the stranger in front of the door.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replied nonchalantly, looking at the boy from head to toe. “And this is…?”

“Seungmin. And you?” the boy said, tilting his head. To Hyunjin, he was being challenged. Seungmin’s tone was more daring than he liked, so he felt an urge to one-up the guy.

“Hyunjin. Been friends with Yn since were in diapers.” he replied, the extra detail a pathetic attempt at one-upping Seungmin. 

Seungmin furrowed his eyebrows, nodding as he shut your door, “Uh. Cool? Bye, Yn. And the friend since diapers.” 

Oh, Hyunjin really didn’t like him. 

“Wait, Seungminnie!” you called out just as Seungmin was walking away. He looked back at the car, raising an eyebrow. You turned to Hyunjin with puppy eyes. “Can you give Seungminnie a ride? He takes the bus and I think the next one’s in an hour.”

Hyunjin clenched his jaw, eyes fluttering from your pleading eyes to Seungmin’s figure outside the car. If it was all up to him, he would probably run the guy over. But God knew how much he cherished you, how he would rather cut his tongue than tell you “no,” so he agreed.

“Mm. Sure,” he replied, swallowing back a scoff. 

Your eyes brightened, “Seungminnie! Come, we’ll give you a ride!” you yelled, tempting Hyunjin to mock the nickname you’d given him.

It was going to be a car ride straight out of hell. 

Hyunjin’s knuckles were white against the steering as he pulled up to Seungmin’s residence complex. The building standing in front of him definitely belonged in a gated community, ritzy and luxurious. Somehow, that pissed Hyunjin off even more. He glanced at the unwanted guest sitting in the back seat through the rear-view mirror.

“Want me to drive you to the lobby, or what?”

Seungmin looked back into the mirror, peering at the reflection through his bangs. “Nah. They don’t let random cars in. Here’s just fine,” he mumbled, unbuckling the seatbelt. “Thanks, dude. Appreciate it.” 

The car door closed behind Seungmin, leaving the two of you in the car. Hyunjin sighed, feeling the nerves creeping up him again. Now that it was only the two of you, it was time for Hyunjin to confess his feelings.

Before he could, you spoke, “Seungmin’s my friend in the academy. He’s really smart,” your eyes didn’t leave the crossroad before you, watching as Seungmin walked. 

Hyunjin had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He tapped on your thigh, trying to gain your attention. It worked as you looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “Hm?”

He licked his lower lip, mustering all the courage in him. It was now, or never. “Look, I have something to tell you.” 

“Yeah?”

You shuffled in your seat, tilting your body slightly towards his way. Now that you had your full attention on him, Hyunjin felt even more nervous. He scratched the skin around his thumb, tongue-tied as his brain tried to form coherent words. He’s never done this before, always made fun of his friends for struggling to express their feelings but now that he was in the same place, he wished he could take back all the insults. The brown eyes looking deeply (and anxiously) into yours were profusely blinking, as though he was at the brink of tears. You grew worried.

“Hyunjin, what’s up?”

He scratched at the back of his neck. Why did his tongue feel so numb? Why did his brain feel empty yet so full at the same time? His heartbeats were so fast, he couldn’t quite catch up. Hyunjin was on a rollercoaster — you were waiting at the end of the ride.

Finally, he managed to muster words. “Look, I’ve pondered over —”

Two knocks on the window at the back. They’re followed by the door opening, an exasperated Seungmin popping his head into the car. Immediately, you both looked back, utterly bewildered. 

“Sorry. I left my bag. Thank God you’re still here,” Seungmin said, grabbing his messenger bag and slipping it onto his shoulder. “Thanks and sorry!”

The door closed, thus silence blanketed the atmosphere once again. This time, with unresolved tension. You looked back at Hyunjin, tilting your head in curiosity.

“You were saying?” 

Dazed, the raven looked at you. His face was a mixture of exasperation and confusion. His head? There was a storm raging, along with curse words aimed at Seungmin. 

“Um…” He licked his lower lip, racking his brain to find back the words he wanted to say. They were all lost. He was already at the end of the rollercoaster, the bumps along the way forgotten, and the thrill subsided. All that’s left was the remnants of anxiety. He couldn’t do it anymore, not when he’s forgotten the things he wanted to say, and the moment disturbed by your dear friend Seungmin.

So, he put the gear on to drive. He shook his head and made up a white lie.

“I think I want to try a new ice cream place today.”

four.  

The taste of cookies and cream could not beat the bitterness on Hyunjin’s tongue. 

It may be because the bitterness has seeped into his head. 

“I’m going to your room,” you announced, swinging the front door of his house open. “Hi, Mrs Hwang!” you cheered, running up the stairs after. 

“I’m going to talk to my mom a little bit,” Hyunjin said, hanging both your coats on the coat hanger. 

Nothing could’ve prepared Hyunjin for what was to happen next. 

Both his parents were crowding the kitchen countertop when he walked in, skimming through a piece of paper. They were beaming, eyes crinkled as they smiled. A reminder that Hyunjin resembled both his parents. He blinked in confusion as to why his parents looked so happy. He didn’t think he'd seen them this happy before.

“What’s going on?” he questioned, peering over their figures to look at the paper. 

On the paper were words he’d only seen in his dreams. Never in a million years he would’ve thought it’d manifest to life. His heart skipped a beat as he read the words over, and over. 

“You made it, sweetheart,” his mother’s soft voice spoke, confirming his suspicion. “You got accepted. Beaux-Arts de Paris.”

“Eomma,” he mumbled, as if he was pleading. Pleading for this dream to stop. Somebody’s got to wake him up from this nightmare of a day. “There’s no way.” 

Hyunjin picked up the letter, inspecting it closer. As though if he looked any closer, the words on the pristine white paper would change. Reject him. Or maybe, the logo of the prestigious school would magically transform into a logo of a school in Seoul. Anything, anything, that would keep him here. In Seoul. With you. 

“You did it, sweetheart. Your dreams are coming true,” his mother keenly said, pulling him into a side hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

His dream? It was his dream, and, yours. No, scratch that — it wasn’t truly his dream. It was yours. His dream had always been to be wherever you are. 

He didn’t think he would be accepted. When you told him you were rejected from the Paris Ballet School, he told you that he was rejected, too. He didn’t tell you that he was waitlisted, under the impression that he was never getting out of the waitlist. What was he to tell you now? 

Hyunjin hid his sadness, wanting to make his parents proud, “Yeah. I did it. I’m so happy, eomma, appa.” 

A series of praises left his parents, and he allowed for them to engulf him in a hug. 

“Don’t tell Yn, ‘kay?” he muttered, before excusing himself to go upstairs. The acceptance letter was neatly folded, tucked into his pocket.  

When he swung his bedroom door open, you were standing in front of his full-length mirror. Clad in only his t-shirt, you inspected yourself. 

“Hey, Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered, turning your body. “Your clothes are bigger than me now. You used to be so small.”

You looked at him, mock dismay in your face. “I was so much taller than you before. You were a dwarf.” 

How was he meant to tell you about Paris?

“I was never a dwarf. You were just too busy looking down on me.”

Giggles left both of you. Silently, he observed the way you were examining yourself. You had the mannerisms of a ballerina, each gesture as gracious as your dance. Hyunjin adored the curves of your body, but God knew he loved that of your smile even more. 

Later, you were both laying on his bed, you in a starfish position. Hyunjin was at the edge of his bed, trying his best to not fall. 

“Ballet was so hard today,” you sighed. You turned your body sideways, burying your face into Hyunjin’s chest. He could smell you in this closeness.

“Are you wearing my deodorant?” he queried, bowing to clasp his nose onto your shoulder. It felt like a kiss to him. “This is literally the smell of my deodorant.” 

You shrugged. “Yeah? What about it? You should’ve gotten used to me taking your things by now, Hwang Hyunjin. I’ve been doing this our whole lives.” 

Touché. The boy sighed, letting you fill in the silence with your babbles. Wordlessly, he listened to your words, letting it be the white noise to his thoughts.��

His head was clearly not there. Unbeknownst to him, you knew of this. He’d been off all day. You’ve picked up on each signal, knowing him like the back of your hand. As much as you wanted to know what was wrong, you knew not to pry. You resorted to comfort instead. 

Your fingertips met at the back of his neck, pulling him into a tight hug. He was never one for physical touch but sometimes, it helped. You leaned your head into his neck. 

Gingerly, you whispered the words you thought he would need. 

“You’re always here, around me. You don’t know how much that means to me.”

The exact words he did not need to hear that day.

How was he meant to tell you of his feelings now? 

Especially when he was leaving — oceans away. 

five.  

Hyunjin had always loved soccer.

Whether it be being in the bleachers, or playing in the field. He loved doing both. There was something about the thrill of watching people play, and the adrenaline as he chased around the field. 

Sitting in the bleachers, Hyunjin watched as his soccer team played. The sounds of his teammates laughing made the blazing sun a little more bearable. He lowered his cap to prevent the sunlight from getting in his eyes, chuckling when he saw Beomgyu falling face-first onto the grass.

He loved his soccer team. Every time he observed them play, Hyunjin’s heart always got overwhelmed with pride and joy. At that moment, he felt melancholy taking space too — the thought of not being able to play with them anymore hurting him more than he thought it would. 

Hyunjin allowed for the melancholy to take space, allowed himself to feel — so much so that he didn’t feel Minho’s presence. Not until the older cleared his throat. 

Minho sat beside him, “Why the long face, Hwang Hyunjin?” 

“Huh?” startled, he looked up, face softening when he saw Minho. “Oh. Nothing. You’re not playing?”

“Nah,” Minho replied curtly. He silently analyzed the younger’s facial expressions before speaking up again. “For someone who’s going to Paris in two weeks, you sure don’t look too happy.”

Of course, Minho out of all people would notice the change in his mannerisms. Always the analyzing one, quick to notice changes in demeanour. There was no point in lying, not with Minho — so he let out the sigh he didn’t realize he was holding. 

“It’s bittersweet, you know?” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“It’s Yn, isn’t it?” 

“Huh?”

“You don’t want to part ways with her. It’s what’s holding you back.” 

Right on. It was as though Minho was a mind-reader. A heavy weight pulled on Hyunjin’s heartstrings, made his heart even heavier than a few minutes prior.

“Yeah,” he didn’t lie, again. He looked at Minho, and the older could clearly see the uneasiness written all over his face. “If you were me… would you tell her about your feelings?”

“The fact that you like her?”

“Yeah.”

Minho fell silent. He pondered over the question, looking at the sight before him. The sun was setting, orange hues painting the sky. Hyunjin wondered if Paris sunsets would look the same.

“I think…” Minho turned towards the younger. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t tell her.” 

“Why?”

“Won’t benefit you, I don’t think.” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow. “Listen. If you were to tell her, and she accepted, do you think you could get into a relationship with her?”

“I mean —”

Minho cut him, “Realistically, do you think the relationship would succeed? I mean, the time zone between Seoul and Paris is pretty big. The distance, too. I don’t think it would work out. And that’ll be bad, you know? You’ll both be left wondering what could have been.”

The truth hurt. The distance, the time — none of them were on Hyunjin’s side. 

“And, if, God forbid, if she were to reject you… do you really want your last memory with her to be the hurt you’ll feel?”

Hyunjin shook his head. The other sighed, and patted him on the back. 

“There are things better left unsaid. You should take her out. Spend your last time with her nicely.”

Despite Hyunjin’s stubbornness, he took Minho’s advice. It took him a lot of contemplating (and crying), but he followed it anyway. Whether he liked it or not, Minho’s advice had a lot of truth in it. 

Bitter truths, but true regardless.

six.

“Where are we going?” you whined, trailing behind your dear friend. The sun was setting in two hours, orange hues were beginning to paint the sky. “Hyunnie, if you don’t tell me where we’re —”

“Please, stay patient. Will you?”

Hyunjin looked behind. He was wearing a blue knitted vest. In one hand, he held a picnic basket. The other, is your handbag. You never have to carry your own with him.

“But we’re literally in the middle of nowhere!” 

“Please just trust me,” he pleaded. One hand was stretched towards you, a silent offer to hold his. “Come. If you’re too tired, I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Ever the opportunist, you took up on the offer. Alas, Hyunjin was left walking the remaining distance, you happily singing road trip songs while clinging onto his back. To butter him up, you told him that he must’ve been a blessing sent to you by God. Although he groaned at the remark, you couldn’t see the small smile on his face.

After a few minutes, you understood why Hyunjin was adamant about going out that day. Before you, green plains stretched as far as your eyes could see. Scattered across viridian shades were wildflowers. Some yellow, some pink. 

Hyunjin had brought you to a flower field.

The picnic basket, and the Polaroid camera finally made sense. 

Without any more words, you jumped off his back and ran into the field. The yellow sundress you wore matched that of the wildflowers. In Hyunjin’s eyes, you blended right in. 

You were as pretty as the flowers. 

“Careful, Yn! Don’t fall!” He called out, his voice echoing in the space. He watched you from afar. There was an urge to run among the flowers too, but he was much more content with watching you. 

From a distance, in silence, he observed your every move. He couldn’t help the giggles that left his lips. The smile that lingered on his lips. He wanted this memory to last, to be ingrained in his brain forever. Soon, he wouldn’t be able to witness your happiness. 

“Hyunnie, you need to come here! It’s so nice!”

Chuckling, he carefully placed the picnic basket on the ground. Hyunjin was done with setting up the picnic spot. He ran towards you, lifted you off the ground and twirled you around. You broke out into giggles and held onto his arms. 

Among the flowers, two silhouettes danced with each other. Swaying to the same melody as the peonies. Despite being a ballerina, you kept stumbling onto Hyunjin’s feet, giggling each time he elicited an “ow.” 

Like a scene from a movie.

Like he wasn’t going away soon.

Before the sun could set, Hyunjin convinced you to sit on the picnic blanket. He wished to dance with you longer, but alas, time awaits for no mortal. 

“How do you want me to pose?” you asked. You were facing him, legs tucked sideways.

Hyunjin scooted closer to you, and wiped breadcrumbs off your lips. He commented on you eating messily. “You can pose however you want.”

You nodded, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Okay. Make sure you get my good angles, yeah?”

“You look good from any angle.” 

Crimson crept up your face. You hadn’t expected that remark. You hoped he wouldn’t see you blush, you would just tell him it’s the sun then. 

“Okay…”

Two clicks, then a flash went off. Your eyes widened, caught off-guard.

“You didn’t even count to three!” 

Your whines were responded to with a giggle. The camera whirled, apprising you of a Polaroid developing. Hyunjin took it, fanning the Polaroid with a grin. He was excited to see it.

“I wasn’t ready!”

“Candid photos are better,” he sighed. “Don’t you know? Everything’s prettier when it’s genuine.”

“So you’re calling me pretty?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Have I ever said you’re ugly?”

Right. He has never. 

You prayed to God the heat on your face was from the sun and not from blushing.

Once the Polaroid fully developed, Hyunjin made sure he was the first to see it. To your dismay, he held it close to his face, shielding it from you. His cheeks dimpled, illustrating his happiness. You looked so pretty, the sunlight on your face giving you an angelic glow. If he looked closer, he was sure he’d see a halo. 

Hyunjin wanted to keep this forever. 

If he couldn’t freeze the time, he figured he’d trap the memories in photographs.

“Let me see!” you whined. “It’s a picture of me! I have the right to see it.”

Scampering towards him, you waved your hands, trying to get the photograph off his hand. To no avail, Hyunjin had quick reflexes much thanks to his soccer experience. 

“No! You can’t — it’s for my eyes only!”

“Ridiculous! That’s my face, Hyunnie!”

“It’s my camera film. So it’s mine!”

Neither one of you would let up, legs entangling against each other as you fought over the photograph. He was determined to not let you even see the picture. One of your palms pressed against the picnic blanket, the other reaching up towards his hand. Hyunjin used his free hand to push you gently but alas, he underestimated his own strength. In one swift move, you lost your balance, toppling over him. 

“Ow,” he fell back and winced in pain. He looked up, and all the back pain was suddenly replaced by shyness. There you were, on his lap — face just as flushed as his. 

Hyunjin didn’t know what to do now. 

Pathetically, he just stared into your eyes, finding himself getting caught in them. He could feel your hitched breaths against his chest, he was very aware of your trembling fingers on his arms. There was a strong urge to kiss you as his eyes fell onto your lips. He wondered how they’d feel on his lips. He imagined it in his head — missing the way your eyes stared at his lips too. 

If you were a flower, Hyunjin would be a bee. He desired you, eyes tracing the shape of your lips. Over, and over. If he kissed you, would your lips taste like honey? 

He ought to find out. Hesitantly, he inched his head closer to yours. The warmth of your breath against his skin marked the closeness between you.

Numerous scenarios flashed in Hyunjin’s mind. Of him kissing you senseless, then whispering a love confession in your ear. Of your cold fingers pressing into his skin as he tells you each perk of yours that he loved endlessly. The more he imagined, the closer he was. You shut your eyes, waiting for his lips to finally press onto yours. 

Paris. The one-way plane ticket to Paris.

Against his heart’s desire, his fingers cupped your chin instead. Subtly, he pulled back, eyes trailing back up to your eyes. He ignored the look of confusion in your eyes.

Reaching down, he pocketed the photograph. His heart clenched as he spoke, but he did anyway. 

“I win.”

The two words pulled you from your trance — they tore off your heart like paper. You blinked, watching the playful smirk that graced Hyunjin’s porcelain face. 

“Oh.”

The whole journey home, bitterness sat on Hyunjin’s tongue like the aftertaste of tangerine pulp. Did you want the kiss too, or had his libido fabricated things? 

Nevertheless, he couldn’t kiss you. Not when he had suitcases packed for Beaux-Art de Paris. Not when it’s all his parents could talk about. 

Minho’s words played in Hyunjin’s mind like a broken record. They served as a reminder of what could not be. For the sake of his heart, he told himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination.

Tension cloaked the front door of your house. Neither of you made a noise, save for the jingling keys in your carabiner. You observed Hyunjin, who was busy looking at his shoes. Once again, his mind wasn’t in his head. It had been that way for a few weeks. 

“See you soon?” you mumbled. 

Hyunjin looked up, nodding at your words. He pulled you into a hug, one that almost crushed your bones. Shakingly, he nuzzled his head into your neck, burying his face into the skin like you would dissolve if he didn't. It must’ve hurt his back but you made no comment, instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, in hopes it'll give him solace. By the front door you held him, so tight that it was as though the two of you were one, the curves of his fingers burning through your skin.

You didn’t know that it was a goodbye. It had to stay that way. 

Once more, his heart clenched in his chest. Two hands cupped your cheeks, as gentle as he could be, like you would break. He engraved this version of you into his memory — kind eyes boring into his with a soft smile plastered across the face he'd grown to adore. He vowed to always remember this face. 

Deeply, he inhaled his breath. Preparing the next words — lies to say to you, no matter how tight his chest felt.

“Yeah, see you soon.”

The last words Hwang Hyunjin muttered to you. 

seven.  

One day before your birthday. 

It had been two days since Hyunjin brought you to the meadow. You hadn’t seen him much, just glimpses of him as he played around with Kkami in his backyard. You figured that he was busy.

“Hello, I’m home!” you said in a sing-song voice as you stepped into the Hwang household. Kkami who’d usually greet you wasn’t in his usual spot, so you trudged straight to the kitchen, where Hyunjin’s mother was sitting. “Hi, Mrs Hwang.” 

She looked up, lips twitching into a smile, a cookie-cutter of Hyunjin’s. Under the kitchen light, you don’t miss the dried tears by her eyes. You pursed your lips, wondering if she was watching a sad drama. Hyunjin inherited his trait of easily crying from his mother, after all. 

“Hi, sweet girl,” she looked at your outfit from head to toe. “Why are you all dressed up?”

“Oh,” you muttered, giving her a little twirl. “My birthday outfit! Is it pretty?”

“Of course.”

You smiled at her, fiddling with the hem of your blouse. Keenly, you looked around the kitchen for any traces of Hyunjin. You realized that the house seemed much quieter than usual, emptier than normal. 

“Where’s Hyunjin?” you asked. The reason why you’d come over was to show your best friend your birthday outfit. Now that you were there, he was nowhere to be seen. “Is he home?”

Sympathy materialized in the mother’s old eyes. She tilted her head at you, lips pursing as she thought of the correct words to say. 

“My girl, did he not tell you?”

Confusion would be an understatement. Hyunjin told you everything, everything — from pointless thoughts to his deepest, darkest secrets. You were his secret keeper, his companion — there was nothing he wouldn’t tell you.

Was there? 

It had to be something unimportant, right? Perhaps he was off to an art workshop and forgot to tell you. But looking at his mother, it felt like something big. You grew anxious under her sympathetic gaze. 

“Tell me what?” you questioned, letting out a nervous chuckle.

“We just came back from Incheon Airport. He’s on a plane to Paris,” the lady replied. She stood up, inching closer towards your trembling figure. “Did he not tell you, Yn? I thought he did.”

“Paris?” you asked, blinking. “Like. For a vacation?”

“No, sweetheart. Beaux-Arts de Paris. He got into the school.”

The words felt like bullets on skin, penetrating and chagrining you deeply. It felt unreal — a hoax.

You scoffed, “What? He wouldn’t go without telling me.” Your eyes searched for humour in his mother’s eyes. “Is this like, a birthday prank?”

Her eyes saddened even more. “No, sweetheart. He really went.”

Another betrayal came in the form of tears cascading down your eyes without warning. The emotions hit you faster than your brain could process things. Speechless, you took steps back from his mother, before running up the staircase to his room. 

He had to be there. Sitting in his swivel chair and laughing at your face. He’ll tell you it was a prank and wipe away your tears. 

Hyunjin was your best friend of a lifetime. He wouldn’t do this to you. He had to be there.

When the door to his room swung open, a sob was knocked out of your mouth. 

All traces of life in the bedroom were gone, save for the soft purrs of Kkami sleeping on the bed. The bed was stripped of its bedsheets, and the towels hanging behind the door were gone. The laundry bag was empty. 

All traces of Hyunjin were gone. 

The realization hit harder than his mother’s words. If the words hurt like bullets on skin, the sight of Hyunjin’s lifeless room felt like a knife twisted in your gut. It felt like sanguine dripping from wounds, and Hyunjin’s holding the knife. It felt like a betrayal. 

“Hyunjin,” his name slipped from your lips like a plea. “Hyunjin.” 

More choked sobs escaped your windpipes as you searched around the room. First, it was his wardrobe. The oak material was practically empty, all that remained were a couple of sleep tees and the shirts you’ve left over the years. You rummaged through the hangers, finding that he had brought one of your sweatshirts along. 

The confirmation of his departure was the emptiness of his study table. Each nook and cranny of his table used to feel like Hyunjin, from the stacks of sketchbooks to eraser dust. Everything was Hyunjin — but at that moment, there was nothing. There was only a void — that of his desk and your heart. 

Your best friend was truly gone. 

“Hyunjin,” the name wrestled its way past your lips again. This time, it was out of longing. “Hyunjin.” 

The manner in which you walked to his bed echoed your feelings. Quivering, like a toddler’s first time walking. Your body fell onto the bed, earning a soft whine from Kkami. Gently, you held Kkami in your arms, letting a stream of tears cascade down your cheeks. For the first time in a while, you allowed yourself to cry, to feel, to mourn. 

If someone were to tell you that Hyunjin out of all people would make you cry that much, you would’ve laughed. Never in a million years, you’d say. The only times he had made you cry were from laughter. 

“Kkami,” you cried. The chihuahua nuzzled its head into your arms, as though it could feel your sorrow. Perhaps it could. “I miss Hyunjin.”

The dog whined. It looked up to you, placing its paw onto your arm. You cried even more. 

“I wanted to tell him about how I feel today,” through sobs, you managed to speak. “How could he make me feel so many things in one day and disappear the other? He didn't even say goodbye.”

It felt like the chihuahua was mourning with you — the way it nudged its head onto your arm, letting out soft whimpers. As though it was telling you that things will be okay. 

You weren’t sure that it would. You spent your whole life with Hyunjin by your side, you had never known life without him. Now that he was ripped from your grasp, you didn’t know how to go on. No — he voluntarily released himself from your grasp, without warning. It was worse. 

Physical traces of Hyunjin in his room were gone. There was only his scent — the smell of his shampoo, and his cologne. It lingered in the room, mocking you.

In your melancholic state of mind, you could only weep.

eight. 

“Coffee, or tea?”

A female voice broke Hyunjin from his trance. He looked up at the stewardess standing by his seat, the sweatshirt doused in your scent crumpling in his tight grip. 

“I want to get off this plane,” sat on his tongue and dissolved. He took a deep breath. 

“Um,” he looked at the cart, “Plain water, please?”

Coffee would only force Hyunjin to stay awake, forcing him to listen to his own brain’s torments for 14 hours straight. Tea reminded him too much of you, of the times when you were little and would make him play tea party with you. He’ll think about the times you’d cheekily kiss his cheek, an attempt to woo him into playing with you. It worked each time. 

The stewardess nodded, handing him a water bottle branded with the aeroplane’s logo. He muttered a thank you, yet the stewardess still didn’t walk away. She looked nice, her eyes analyzing Hyunjin told him that he must’ve looked like the epitome of a wreck.  

“First time flying?” she questioned. It wasn’t his first time, having gone on many vacations before yet he nodded. “I see. It’ll be fine, just sit back and relax.”

The woman, whose name tag said Chaewon flashed Hyunjin a hospitality smile — one he didn’t think he deserved — then walked away. Hyunjin pursed his lips, wishing that she hadn’t walked away. He didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts, he didn’t want to be awake, he didn’t want to be in this plane — there were a lot of things he didn’t want to do, but had to do. 

Hyunjin wanted to turn back.

Silently, he looked out the window, watching as the landscapes of Seoul grew smaller, slowly becoming covered with clouds. He desperately wished to get out, praying to God that the plane would miraculously turn back and the tableau of Seoul would become bigger. Had he told the stewardess named Chaewon he wanted to get off, would they have let him? Had he told his parents he didn’t want to go to Paris, would they have understood?

If he tells you he’s sorry, would you forgive him? 

Regrets and memories clouded his mind, tears making their way down his cheeks. Each thought strangled his heart, and he could feel it physically aching. In a melancholic state of mind he sat, clinging onto your sweatshirt like it was his lifeline, allowing slumber to slowly take over. 

The break from his own thoughts did not last long enough.

Seven hours later, Hyunjin woke up to dried tears on his cheeks. He straightened his posture and glanced at the window, feeling a wave of emotions at the change of landscapes. Hyunjin wasn’t sure in which city they were flying over, but he could say with certainty that it did not look like Seoul. It did not feel like home, it did not feel like you. 

Unable to fall back to sleep, he couldn’t help the thoughts that poisoned his mind. Looking over the landscapes, he came to a realization much too painful for his heart to bear. 

You and him — you were the Sun, and he was the Moon. Two people of different circumstances, who’ll never meet, ripped away from the merciless hands of time. For your timezones were different — horizons even more. 

As a wave of new tears descended, Hyunjin wondered if he would ever forget about you.

The answer came to him one afternoon three years later, as he laid on the couch in his Parisian apartment. 

No, he’d never forget about you. At least not in three years. Maybe not even in five. 

Sunlight seeped in through the balcony, providing Hyunjin the warmth he wasn’t able to receive from a person. His roommate was a French guy who was always out and about, leaving Hyunjin to soak in his own company for hours on end. Sometimes, for days. Hyunjin loved and hated it at the same time. 

His limbs stretched across the burgundy couch, a yawn eliciting past his lips. Brown eyes stared at the canvas in front of him, black and white hues scattered on white, forming a half-finished painting of you. 

Years later, and you remained at the back of his mind — his muse.

Absence makes the heart grow fonder.

nine.  

There are five stages of grief. 

Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, then acceptance. Denial was the hardest for you, having spent your entire birthday staring at the front door of your house, praying Hyunjin would walk in. When your friends sang you a Happy Birthday, it sounded like a morose ballad playing from a broken record. Without Hyunjin, gloom sat at the centre of even the happiest things. 

Then came a sixth stage — one that seemed to exist for you.

Motivation.

After coming to acceptance that your best friend had gone, without any farewell, you spent many hours a day in the ballet studio. Pirouette, arabesque, plié — you managed to polish each move with the amount of time you spent cooped up in the studio. You weren’t born with ballet feet, but the times spent in pointe shoes had somehow moulded you into having them. 

Perhaps, it was distraction, disguised as motivation.

Nevertheless, the tireless hours of practice granted you a position in the Paris Ballet School.

Paris felt bittersweet when you first landed. It was the city of your dreams, but the reminiscence of the person it took from you made you loathe it. 

Withal, life had to go on. To cope with the Parisian lifestyle, you managed to get a job at a cafe near your academy — Desir Cafe. You worked night shifts as a kitchen crew but if traffic was overwhelming in the afternoons, your shitty excuse of a boss would make you come in anyway.

Unfortunately for you, it was one of those days. Clinks and sizzles reverberated in the kitchen, the peg board overwhelmed with sticky notes of orders. You were everywhere in the kitchen, from piping icing on cupcakes to sprinkling chocolate rice on pastries. 

“Yn,” the main baker yelled, “Tell Double C’s we can’t stock up on macarons! We’re out of almond flour!” 

The Double C’s — Charlotte, and Colette. They were a duo who worked as waitresses, always gossiping. Birds of the same feather, attached by the hip. 

Exasperated, you headed to the front, swinging the kitchen door open to see the duo gossiping. Charlotte was leaning in towards Colette, whispering into her ear, earning giggles from the other. You sighed, wondering what the topic was that afternoon. Curious as to who they were gossiping about, you looked towards the direction they were looking. 

Seated alone at the corner of the cafe was a guy, blonde hair gleaming golden from the sunlight seeping through the big window. His utmost focus was on the sketchbook in front of him, frail fingers dancing across paper, entrancing any eyes which fell upon him. You couldn’t help but stare, your face gradually contorting into disbelief.

He resembled too much like Hyunjin — your Hyunjin. 

Your gaze lingered on the man, analyzing each crease of his face, matching it with the one you had in mind. He looked just like Hyunjin, from the shape of his nose to the mole under his eye. The only difference was the hair. Hyunjin’s hair was raven black, but the person in the cafe had golden blonde hair. You felt your throat tighten. If the man sitting at the corner was him, then time had done good on him. He was beautiful, face sculptured beautifully by time’s gentle hands.

“Ooh, look who’s ogling!” a high-pitched voice interrupted you. You looked up to see the Double C’s looking at you, wiggling their eyebrows mischievously. Charlotte smirked, “Think the guy’s cute?”

“Huh? What guy?” you lied, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

Colette rolled her eyes. “The dude over there! Don’t lie, you think he’s cute.” The brunette wiggled her eyebrows even more, subtly pointing at the man. 

You didn’t say anything else, but your eyes travelled back to the familiar silhouette. The sense of familiarity tugged on fragile heartstrings the more you looked at him. Colette could sense your curiosity, so she parted her lips to speak.

“That’s Hyunjin. He’s a student in Beaux-Arts de Paris,” she muttered, unbeknownst to her the mixed emotions that dawned upon you. “He comes here almost every afternoon. Maybe that’s why you’ve never seen him before. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Excitedly, Charlotte nodded her head. “A total heart-throb, honestly.”

“I mean…” your voice trailed, “He’s quite alright.”

How were you supposed to react to finally seeing the one who got away? Were you supposed to feel excited, or upset? It was like the moon had suddenly dropped down onto your lap. 

You were confused.

Charlotte continued speaking, not realizing the mixture of emotions in your face. “Sometimes, the students have exhibitions about ten minutes from here. His artworks always make it to the exhibitions. I’ve seen them, and they’re really beautiful.”

You turned towards her, “Exhibitions?”

She nodded, still naive as to your shift in behaviour. “I think the school has an exhibition every three months or so.”

Unfaltering, your eyes bored holes in Hyunjin’s back. He was in his own little world, evidently absorbed in whatever piece he was working on. Just like that, the memories you spent years suppressing came rushing back. 

It was unfair, the impact he had on you. There he was, lounging in a corner while your heart grappled in your chest. He looked older, better — and you were still the little girl in the tree house. Swaying your feet as they dangled, as though you had all the time in the world.

Charlotte and Colette exchanged looks as you stared at him. To them, you were simply developing a crush on a stranger. They wouldn’t understand the conflict brewing in you, they wouldn’t be able to comprehend the ache that stirred in the depths of your heart.

“What? You’re interested in him?” Charlotte spoke, breaking you off your trance. You looked at her, blinking. “Don’t even try. I’ve tried. I think he’s gay.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“He’s not gay — oh my god, Lottie!” it was Colette’s turn to speak. Playfully, she smacked the other’s arm. “I asked that guy he’s always with, the songwriter — Felix. Cute guy, that one. Felix told me that he’s got a secret lover or something.”

“Secret lover?”

“Yeah. Apparently, he likes to draw this one girl. His sketchbook’s filled with her,” Colette murmured, glancing at Hyunjin. “Felix asked her who she was, and he said it’s a girl of his dreams.”

Your heart dropped. You weren’t sure to which news you should react first, either Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin, or that he has a secret lover. Either way, it made you pathetically jealous. Your heartstrings thrummed in anger as you imagined a beautiful French girl spread out on his bed, and Charlotte hitting up on your Hyunjin.

How could he go on with his life when you spent years mourning him?

Crimson tainted your lip as you bit on it hard, the taste of metal at the tip of your tongue. 

Perhaps, you never made it past the anger stage of your grief.

ten.

You truly tried to be happy for Hyunjin.

For days, weeks — you spent convincing yourself that you had to be happy for him. Sure, he hurt you three years ago. Sure, you spent years in agony, regretting not telling him how you felt earlier, wondering what could’ve been. Sure, you hoped that you’d see him in Paris and he’d tell you that he’s in love with you and kiss you senseless — but those were just desperate prayers, weren’t they? Those were simply hopeful scenarios. You hadn’t expected them to come true, had you?

Hyunjin was your best friend of years. He deserved happiness, even when you didn’t feel happy. You had to let things go. You had to be happy for him.

Clearly, you failed at convincing yourself.

In front of a building you stood, the sound of people walking past becoming white noise. You stared at the banner standing in front of you, the words Autumn Exhibition displayed, with the logo of Beaux-Arts de Paris at the top. You swallowed the lump forming in your throat.

A week ago, Charlotte told you that the university would be holding another exhibition, and Hyunjin’s artworks most likely made it into the exhibition. You knew then, that you had to go. If you didn’t get to see him, then you at least wanted to see his pieces. To not be a part of his life was devastating, you wished to at least witness glimpses of it. 

9:45 p.m. was displayed on your screen, people were beginning to leave the exhibition. There weren’t many people around, which was what you were hoping for. Visiting the exhibition in daylight meant potentially bumping into Hyunjin, and you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

One day you ought to meet him, but not today. Not when the fragments of your heart have yet to be mended.

After taking a deep breath, you willed yourself to step into the exhibition. A gust of wind hit your face, and you shivered, clutching your coat tight. The art display seemed to be painting-themed, the way frames of canvases were scattered around the building. Baroque paintings were displayed all over, each piece as beautiful as skies at dusk.

The tapping of your heels against the ceramic tiles sounded as you walked, the romantic lighting of the room providing you with a sense of comfort. Wildly, your eyes observed each piece, letting your heart be swayed by the beauty. 

They were all beautiful — but they didn’t feel like Hyunjin. 

Until your eyes trailed to a certain piece.

It was the centrepiece, the piece — little bulbs of lights were installed above the frame, making the piece feel alive. The moment your gaze fell on the artwork, you couldn’t help but feel drawn in, taking hurried steps towards it. You stared, unable to take your eyes off the hues on the canvas.

There weren’t many hues, just black and white. It depicted two figures on swings. You couldn’t see the figures clearly but you could tell they looked happy. You could see through the strokes of paint that they were happy — though the artist not so. There was a certain sadness in the painting, one that screamed nostalgia. 

The longer you looked at the piece, the more you realized. 

It was a fragment of your memory. 

Your breath hitched. In came a memory of you and Hyunjin — running around the park before playing on swings. It was a particularly memorable day, you could recall falling off the swing and Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, kissing the bruises on your knees with the tenderness of a feather. It was the first time you felt so protected, and so loved. 

A rush of emotions overcame you, you wondered if that was how Hyunjin felt when he painted it. Had he thought of you, and wept by his easel? Had he stained his cheeks with charcoal as he wiped stray tears off his face? 

You wondered, so much so that you failed to realize a silhouette entering the display. 

Hyunjin didn’t enjoy art exhibitions in daylight. They felt pompous. The people who visited the exhibitions would usually walk around casually, and took photos. They didn’t harbour any sort of deep appreciation towards art, they didn’t sit and admire.

Therefore, Hyunjin loved revisiting exhibitions in the comfort of twilight. When the expositions were empty, he enjoyed revisiting them, taking his sweet time to admire each piece. 

When he spotted a figure standing before his piece — his most vulnerable piece, he felt his heart drop. He watched from afar as this person observed the artwork, body as still as a mannequin. He had never witnessed someone admire a piece this intensely, especially with it being one of his pieces. He felt flattered, his heart swelling in pride and joy. 

Silently, Hyunjin approached the figure. Usually, he was shy, not the type to approach people first but somehow, he felt the strong urge to this time. Fate was pulling him by his heartstrings.

“That’s my painting,” Hyunjin spoke, ensuring his voice was as soft as possible. 

The sudden voice startled you. You whipped your head towards the source of the noise, eyes widened in shock. They widened even more at the sight before you. 

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His heartbeats escalated, taking in the figure standing in front of him. His fingers dug into the skin of his thumb, lips quivering. Brown doe eyes mirrored yours.

“Wh — what?” he spoke again, breathless. “Yn?”

A few steps were taken, inching closer towards you. His eyes scanned your face, lips quivering even more when he realized that it was you — you were real, and you were standing in front of him. You looked the same as you did three years ago, except more beautiful. How’d you get more beautiful? The passage of time had seemingly been good to you, the way it had carved your face into one Hyunjin could imagine himself filling his canvases with.

“Hyunjin,” you willed yourself to speak. You ignored the way your eyes watered. “It’s you.”

“It’s you, too. You’re here.”

Another few, brave steps were taken. You, on the other hand, didn’t move an inch. 

“I hate you,” the words spilt past sanguine mouth before you could stop them, its venom contrasting the hushed tone of your voice. They crushed Hyunjin’s heart, though he knew he deserved them. “But I missed you.”

“I’m sorry,” was all that he could say. Hyunjin meant it. He really was sorry. He was sorry as he sent you back from the meadow, too cowardly to bid you goodbye. He was sorry when he packed his bags, stealing one of your sweatshirts for solace. He was sorry when he was on the plane, wishing he could turn back time. He was sorry when he painted numerous portraits of you. He was sorry as he stood before you, watching tears flow down your cheeks because it was the least he could do — a form of punishment for what he had done to you.

You shook your head, palms rushing towards your face to wipe away tears. 

“It’s not enough, I know,” he mumbled, moving closer towards you to wipe your tears, like it was instinct, feeling his heart clench when you took steps back. “But I truly am sorry.”

“You didn’t even say goodbye,” you sobbed, vision blurry. “You didn’t even contact me.”

“I know, Yn, I know — I’m sorry. I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t,” he rambled, cupping your cheeks and rubbing on the skin. You allowed him to. “I swear, I wanted to write to you, but I was too embarrassed, and by the time I had enough courage it was already too late.”

Sobs wrestled their way past your lips, barely able to form coherent words. You kept shaking your head, blurting out the words you’ve kept for years.

“You just left me, Hyunjin — you left me. A day before my birthday,” your whimpers got louder, “I wanted to tell you I’m in love with you, on my birthday. Hell, three years later and I’m still in love with you.”

Hyunjin’s face paled. He had expected curses, and cries — but he hadn’t expected that. Anything, but that. His limbs moved before his brain could process things, lifting your chin to meet eyes. Your eyes were tinted with tears, but you were still beautiful. You’re always beautiful.

“What?” he squeezed your cheeks, “Yn, what?”

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again. It's fucking pathetic.”

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Hyunjin knew he was supposed to feel remorse, but God — his heart bloomed at the words you had whispered to him. You’re in love with him. You’re in love with him, the same way he was in love with you. “Fuck, Yn. You can't just say shit like that.”

Feather-like touches grazed your lips. There was a certain look in Hyunjin's eyes, one that you couldn't quite figure out — they were a look of longing. How could you know it was longing when you had never bear witness to them? You could feel his breath against your face, warm like his fingertips.

“You have no fucking idea how long I've been in love with you. You have no idea how much I missed you. Fuck, I think about you every fucking day,” he whispered, “You have no idea how much I regret getting on that plane.”

At that moment, all you could feel was Hyunjin. His deep, brown eyes staring into yours and his thumb pressing onto your lip.

“Kiss me,” you whispered back, “Kiss me, Hwang Hyunjin.”

And kiss you, he did. His lips crashed against yours with fervour, moving his lips to the same beat as his racing heart. You kissed back in the same manner, letting out the emotions you had bottled up. 

I love you, I love you — each movement of his lips was a love confession, etching his adoration onto the curves of your lips. You caressed his cheeks akin to holding stars in your palms — careful, precious.

Finally, you pulled apart to catch your breaths, bodies heaving against each other. 

“Please, give me a second chance.”

It’s odd the way human minds work, because at that very moment, you were reminded of Colette's words. Ones that mentioned a rumoured secret lover.

“But,” you felt silly for saying it, “Your secret lover?”

“My secret lover?” the boy's eyebrows furrowed. He then chuckled upon realization. The rumour must've spread to you. “Ah, that secret lover. It's you, idiot.” 

He smiled. You didn’t think anyone could look as beautiful as he did.

“It's always been you.”

eleven.  

“Careful — come on, get under here.”

Giggles echoed in the alleyways as two shadows lingered in the darkness of midnight. It was raining, the pavements darkening with wetness and the wind howling a sweet melody. At that particular hour, under the moonlight, Paris looked like the city of love. 

You rushed out of the exposition hall, getting under Hyunjin’s leather jacket. He’d promised you the date of your lifetime that night, and he wasn’t one to break his promises. 

Hyunjin’s back was damp from the rain, but it didn’t matter as long as not a droplet landed on your body. It only took a few minutes (and a lot of giggles in between) to reach Hyunjin’s so-called secret spot. 

Streetlights shone on a bench, and clusters of flowers surrounded a little pond. The spot overlooked the city, you could see the city lights from all the way up here. You gasped in awe, it’s no wonder Hyunjin insisted on coming here.

“So beautiful,” you whispered. Hyunjin smiled softly, moving closer towards you on the bench and wrapped an arm around your waist.

While fondly looking at your visage, he muttered. “Yeah, it’s pretty.”

“How’d you find this place?”

“I found it while I was walking one night,” he explained, resting his head on yours. You could smell his shampoo in this closeness. “I was sad. This garden reminded me of the one we used to go to when we were kids.”

Your heart swelled at the confession. 

“It does resemble that one a lot.”

The skies were still drizzling rain, but you were both a little sheltered much thanks to the oak tree above you. Only droplets dripped, falling onto your head but it was a nice sensation. Besides, you couldn’t feel the cold when you’re nuzzled in Hyunjin’s arm, blanketed in his familiar warmth. You allowed silence to third-wheel you, eyes busied with observing the sight. Silence was always comfortable with Hyunjin. The time spent apart hadn’t changed that. 

He wouldn’t leave you alone, his skin constantly touching yours. It burned against you. You didn’t mind it. Instead, you basked in his love, listening to the sounds of his heartbeats as your head rested on his chest. He intertwined your fingers together, his thumb rubbing against yours. He wouldn’t let go of you, not even when he bent down to pluck a flower, slipping the daffodil onto your ear. 

“I missed you,” he murmured. You weren’t sure how much he’d repeated that phrase but you liked it. “I truly did.”

For the thousandth time that night, you responded. “I missed you too.”

The conversation changed into one about your lives, catching up on each other’s shenanigans. It was comfortable, being with Hyunjin. Topics changed seamlessly. You didn’t have to put much effort into talking to him, you just had to be there.

Softly, his hands moved towards your feet, taking off one of your shoes. He held onto your ankle, tracing his pointer across your sole. You giggled, the feather-like touches tickled. 

“You still have the feet of a ballerina.”

“Of course, silly,” you scoffed, “I am one after all.”

“I’m so glad that your dreams came true,” he whispered, putting your leg down. He cupped your cheek, showcasing a fond smile that stretched to his ears. “I’m really happy that you’re here.”

“Of course,” you repeated. “You told me you’d be wherever I am. It’s only fair I returned the favour.”

The words knocked out Hyunjin’s breath, and it filled his soul with so much adoration, he felt like he could burst. A pleading expression was written all over his porcelain visage, the way in which he squeezed your hand expressing his feelings even more.

“Please,” he pleaded. “I need to be yours.”

You kissed him, for the second time that night.

“I’m already yours, Hyunnie.”

twelve.  

Things with Hyunjin had been going exceptionally well. 

After the fated night, you carried on with so much happiness that you practically beamed everywhere you went. One time when you clocked into work, the Double C’s made kissy noises at you, and Charlotte had whispered, “You must’ve had crazy good sex last night.”

You couldn’t deny it, of course.

Date nights with Hyunjin happened thrice a week, with coffee runs in between classes. The Paris Ballet School and Beaux-Arts de Paris weren’t that far from each other, allowing you to sneak lunches together almost daily. Though you had to admit that even if the universities were far, Hyunjin definitely wouldn’t mind spending extra time just to see you. Sometimes, he’d watch you dance, and sometimes, you’d watch him paint. 

It was like you were both making up for the lack of each other the past three years.

After just two weeks of your relationship, you were acquainted with the comfort of Hyunjin’s home. His roommate was barely home, so you felt comfortable with coming over often. Most weekends, you’d spend the night over. 

Morning birds chirped a jolly ballad, waking you from your slumber. You stretched, feeling the heat of Hyunjin’s skin against yours. You couldn’t help the smile that grazed your face when you looked at him, fast asleep under the duvets beside you. Sleepily, you pressed a kiss onto his bare shoulder, then traced the memories of last night, tattooed on his skin in the form of bruises. It pulled a whine from him, moving under the duvet to press himself impossibly closer towards you.

“Flower,” he mumbled, morning voice husky, “I'm cold.”

“Then come cuddle.”

He did as told, wrapping strong arms around you. You felt his fingers ghost against your naked spine, sending heat straight to your core. You couldn't help the whimper that left you, earning a playful grin from your boyfriend. 

“It's too early to get in the mood, no? Baby?”

Flushed, you smacked his arm. “Shut up.”

Hyunjin giggled, leaning towards you to press kisses onto your face. Mornings with him were often spent like this — limbs entangled, as if you were one. 

“Need to shower, baby,” he sighed, “Have an exhibition today.”

To your dismay, he slowly pulled away from you, missing the warmth of his body. 

“You coming to the exposition?”

“Of course,” you hummed. “Go shower. Can I borrow your laptop while you're in the shower?”

“Yeah, baby. The password's your birthday.”

He got up from the bed, and you flushed as you looked at his bare body. Unluckily for you, your boyfriend quickly noticed your flushed face, taking it as an opportunity to throw a pillow at you and call you a pervert. You rolled your eyes, watching him enter the bathroom before getting up, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. 

You walked towards his study to retrieve his laptop, smiling at the artworks displayed on his peg board. One was of you — a painting of the Polaroid he took of you back in the meadow. The Polaroid itself sat at the back of his phone case. He had never taken it out since the first time he put it in back then.

Whilst humming to a melody, you kicked in the digits of your birthday. The laptop unlocked, showcasing the unclosed tabs. 

Your eyes widened at the words written on the screen.

Congratulations, you've been chosen for a student exchange programme to Rome.

Your heart skipped a beat. Repeatedly, your eyes skimmed the words on the screen. You didn't mean to pry but you scrolled through the email, feeling your heart sink upon seeing the date it was sent.

Over a week ago. 

Yet Hyunjin hadn't told you anything. 

After all these years, he was still keeping secrets from you. You couldn't handle it, and so for the sake of your heart you exited the tab, and shut down the laptop. Careful as to not make much noise, you got dressed. 

“Hyunjin,” you knocked on the bathroom door. “Need to be at the academy now. Bye.”

You needed to be away from him — you needed to clear your head.

thirteen.

You hadn't seen Hyunjin for a week.

The texts from him you didn't avoid, responding each time he sent a message. However, you'd been dodging his requests of meeting, under the guise of practice when in truth, you hadn’t gone for classes in a week. You spent your days moping in your apartment. 

Perhaps it was a little childish of you to do, but you couldn't bear the thought of going through what you did before. You'd tasted a life without Hyunjin, and you were certain you didn't want to live through it again. This was your way of mentally preparing for that life again. 

Your limbs lazily stretched across the cotton duvet as a vinyl played in the background. A melodramatic song played, matching the current tune of your heart. You weren't entirely sure what time it was, but the sound of the apartment bell ringing hinted that it was afternoon. It must be the takeout your roommate ordered.

“Reine,” a familiar voice reverberated in your apartment. “Where's Yn?”

“In her bedroom,” your roommate, Reine replied in her thick French accent. “She's been in there moping all week.”

Damn you, Reine. 

Quickly, you buried yourself in your duvet, anticipating the footsteps which approached your room. Soon, your door swung open, and you could smell the white gardenia in his cologne.

“My flower,” his voice tempted you to look, “What’s going on, sweet girl?”

It didn’t help that each syllable that slipped past his lips felt like honey.

You felt his hands pull down your duvet before you came face to face with your boyfriend. He stood before you, hair slicked back and the white blouse he wore accentuated his shoulders. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers, patches of peonies and daffodils peeking from the wrapper. 

You didn’t utter any words, simply looking at him with watery doe eyes. He didn’t miss the glint of tears, immediately setting the bouquet on your nightstand to get onto the bed. Tenderly, he pulled you onto his lap.

“You look so sad,” he mumbled, “Can my sweet girl please tell me why she’s so sad?”

Damn, him. How were you supposed to stand a chance when he was so ridiculously handsome and sweet?

Trembling, you parted your lips to speak. 

“You’re hiding things from me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What things, baby?”

Your eyes shot daggers at him, bottom lip forming into a pout. Hyunjin had to stop himself from leaning in and biting it.

“You got offered to an exchange student programme,” you finally bit the bullet. “You’re planning on keeping it a secret and just leaving me again, aren’t you?”

Ah.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened. He sighed, caressing your cheek in his hand. He shook his head as his free hand rested on your thigh, massaging the supple skin.

“No, I’m rejecting it,” he answered. “I didn’t tell you because I thought there was no point in telling you if I didn’t even want to go.”

“What?” you responded, voice a little higher than you intended it to be. Your eyes scanned his for any lies. “Hyunjin — it’s a good opportunity.”

“What, you don’t want me here anymore?” he joked, raising an eyebrow at you. “Baby, Paris is already enough for me. I don’t really want to move again.”

You nodded at his words. A huge part of you felt relieved — and you felt awful for feeling that way. 

Love, sometimes, is about being selfish after all.

“Were you sad because you thought I was going?” your boyfriend queried, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You shrugged. “A little. I was more mad that you didn’t tell me.”

“Oh,” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret, I just didn’t mention it because it felt insignificant.”

“I want you to tell me things,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around his neck. It left goosebumps in its wake. “I want to know these things.”

“Okay," he mumbled. Something about his compliance made you feel fonder of him. "I'll start telling you these things."

A sigh of relief left your lips. You had known Hyunjin for years, but being with him was different. A good kind of difference. It would take you a while to adjust to these changes — but it was the kind of changes you'd want to adjust to.

Hyunjin's fingers trailed to your hips, ghosting over your skin until they reached your thighs. He traced the stretch marks there, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You couldn't help the whine that left your mouth, and the heat that arose, tainting the tips of your ears in crimson. Hyunjin enjoyed this — flustering you with his ministrations. He allowed you to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, whimpering as he felt your lips litter kisses on his most sensitive spots.

"I love you," he confessed, like honey dripping from lips. "Promise I'll be wherever you are."

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