#hyunjin oneshots

[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."

disclaimer — © 2024 hyunverse on tumblr. all rights reserved. authors works are protected under the copyright law. do not plagiarize or translate my works. tumblr is my only platform.

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[hardstraykidshours]

distraction

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, 18+ (minors dni)

summary: hyunjin has had a really bad week and needs to get his emotions out somehow.

length: 3.2k

warnings: profanity, sexual/suggestive content, hard dom!hyunjin, sub!reader, unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap), deepthroating, hair pulling, degradation, praise, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

this week had just not been hyunjin's week. the complete lack of texts or calls during the day told you that today was probably no different. except the second you see the look on his face when he walks through the door to your shared apartment, you can instantly tell that today was different from the rest of the week. today was much, much worse.

you start to cross the room towards him but pause when his shoe gets stuck while he's trying to take it off, resulting in him flinging it halfway across the room while muttering obscenities under his breath. 

he looks up at you and notes your frozen posture before loosing a heavy sigh and running his fingers through his hair, a tic you've noticed he does when he's overwhelmed or frustrated. "i'm sorry love, it's just not been a good day."

"it's okay baby, i understand," you say while finishing crossing the room towards him. wrapping your arms around his waist, you pull him into a tight hug. he embraces you back, but doesn't sink into your hold or bury his face in your neck like he usually does. "do you want to talk about it?" 

a dry laugh escapes his throat, but you hear no humor in the sound. "that's the last thing i want to talk about right now." 

you pull away slightly to look up at him. "can i do anything to help?" 

"unless you can time travel back to before i was an idol and tell me to stop before it becomes the biggest fucking nightmare of my entire life, i think i'm good," he breaks your hold on him, brushing past you to head further into the apartment.

his words leave you a bit stunned, so you don't respond for a minute. he loves dancing and performing, and he loves his fans, so you know he doesn't really mean what he said about not becoming an idol. regardless, it still shocked you, because it's the first time he's ever said something so drastic before. 

you take a second to compose your shocked expression before turning and heading into the kitchen.

"why don't you go take a shower, and i'll finish making dinner?" you say, trying to keep your voice casual. he clearly doesn't want to talk about work, so maybe reverting back to your normal routine will help him de-stress. 

"yeah, fine, whatever," he mutters, more to himself than you, before storming to the bathroom. you grin to yourself at his grumpy behavior, knowing a long, hot shower will help him relax. it always does. 

you're just finishing up dinner when you hear the water turn off. a few moments go by, and you look up to see hyunjin standing in the doorway to the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and another draped across his neck that he's using to vigorously dry his hair. your smile quickly fades when you see the lines of tension still visible on his face and through his body. he's deep in thought, definitely about work, and he scrubs a hand down his face, clearly still very frustrated. "it's fucking bullshit," he spits while slamming the side of his fist into the doorframe before stalking across the hall to your bedroom to change. 

okay, now you're getting worried. you thought for sure a shower would help him cool off, just like it always does, but all it seems to have done is rile him up even more. 

he emerges from the bedroom a few moments later, wearing a fresh t-shirt and gym shorts. he joins you at the table, chair screeching across the floor when he pulls it out with more force than necessary. you tap your leg nervously while he remains silent the entire meal, the tension in the air around him palpable. 

finally, he finishes his meal and mumbles a thank you before abruptly standing. he crosses to the living room and plops down on the couch. you think he's going to put on a stupid show or a movie to help turn off his brain and unwind, but when you finish clearing the table you look over and see that he hasn't moved an inch. he's just laying there, staring at the ceiling. 

you join him in the living room, sitting next to him on the arm of the couch. you try to run your fingers through his hair, something you know he absolutely loves, but he brushes your hands away. 

"jinnie, baby, what's going on? what happened?" 

"i told you i don't want to talk about it." 

"okay, then what can i do to help you? i know this week's been a nightmare for you, so tell me what you need to feel better," your voice has taken on a pleading tone. you're starting to get a little desperate for anything else to try. 

"nothing. it just all sucks, and nothing can change that. i'm really sorry i'm being such an ass tonight. i'm just going to go to bed." 

he pushes off the couch and walks away, leaving you feeling helpless. you know he's not acting like this on purpose. he's just overwhelmed with whatever is happening with work and is lashing out, but you wish you could help him. you wish he would let you help him. 

he's a wound up ball of energy and frustration, and you don't know what to do. you've tried everything you can think of to help him release all that tension, so he can finally unwind and relax for the evening, but nothing seems to be working. 

wait. you haven't tried everything. 

when you enter the bedroom you find hyunjin on the bed in the same position he was in on the couch, on his back staring blankly at the ceiling. 

you crawl up next to him, pausing when you reach his waist. he doesn't so much as even spare you a glance, but you don't let it deter you. you're going to snap him out of this if it's the last thing you do. reaching forward, you slide his shirt up slightly and plant several warm, wet kisses along his lower abdomen. you don't miss the sharp intake of breath when he feels your warm tongue swirl across his skin. which is why you're shocked when his hands grip your shoulders and pull you away. 

"what are you doing?" he looks at you, his gaze still distant, and you can almost see the turmoil waging in his eyes. 

"i'm distracting you from whatever is going on in that head of yours," you lean forward once more, tracing your lips across his flesh again. he doesn't stop you, but he also doesn't stop his complaints. 

"it's no use baby. like i told you before, there's nothing that's going to make this night better," his mouth is telling you one thing but the growing hardness in his shorts is telling you something entirely the opposite. 

you pull back slightly to smirk up at him. "just be a good boy and listen to me so i can make you feel good." you reach for his waistband, but his hand shoots out and encircles your wrist, stopping your movements. 

"no." his voice is firm, bordering on cold, and you can't help the shocked expression that crosses your face. before you even have time to question his strange behavior, he continues. "i'm sick and tired of listening to people tell me what to do. it doesn't matter that i'm running myself ragged to do exactly what they asked. it's still not good enough. maybe we wouldn't have so many problems if someone just fucking listened to me for once!"

oh. oh. so that's what's been going on. now that you know the root of the problem, your entire plan shifts slightly. 

"i'm listening," you say as you lean back onto your heels, crossing your hands behind you. 

he runs a hand through hair and releases a heavy sigh. "i know you are, loves, you always listen, but you know that's not what i mean." 

"oh, but i do know," your voice takes on a slightly mischievous tone. "you just don't know what i mean." 

"i don't un-" he stops talking when he notices you grab the hem of your shirt and start lifting it. 

"i'm listening," you don't break eye contact as you pull the shirt up and over your head. 

"to you." one hand moves behind your back, undoing the clasps on your bra. 

"to anything you want to say." the corners of your lips tip up into a smile as you slide the straps down your arms. 

"and to anything you want to do." you rise up slightly to push your shorts off before settling back on your heels, completely bare except for your panties. 

he props himself up on his elbows to look at you. a dark glint enters his eyes, and you can tell his attention is quickly shifting away from work. 

"you need to work out all that tension from this week, and i want you to unleash it on me. however you want."

he doesn't say anything in response, just opens and closes his mouth a few times while he keeps staring at you. 

"well?" 

it's like that one word flicked a switch in his brain because he moves before you can even blink. you find yourself suddenly on your back, his body towering over you, his arms caging you in.

"i'm not in a good headspace right now," he leans down to kiss your neck, and you tip your head back when you feel his warm mouth on your skin. 

"i know," you whisper before letting out a soft moan when you feel him suck hard enough to leave a mark. 

"i'm not going to be gentle," his teeth scrape across your throat and bright hot arousal shoots through your veins. "i'm going to fuck you and use you until i can't even remember all that stupid bullshit from work." 

his dirty words skate across your skin, and you can feel your panties getting wetter by the second. 

"good," you mange to say, grinning to yourself. 

he pulls away suddenly, moving to stand next to the bed. "roll over," his voice is hard, full of authority and you cant help but think about how much it turns you on. 

you quickly oblige, turning onto your stomach and scooting to the edge of the bed when he gestures at you. 

"open," he commands while moving his shorts just enough to pull out his hard cock. your mouth practically waters at the sight of him right in front of you. you're so busy staring at his throbbing dick that you don't even realize your mouth is still closed until he's fingers sink into your hair, pulling your head back ever so slightly.

"i said open," he taps your lips with the tip of his cock, and you immediately part them. 

he wastes no time thrusting into your mouth. he hits the back of your throat, and you gag slightly around him, pulling a deep groan from him. 

he continues to relentlessly pound into you, your position giving him the ideal angle to plunge deep into your mouth. he has his hands buried into your hair, using it as leverage to pull you closer in time with his thrusts. 

it's unlike any other time you two have done this. you've always been the one in control, guiding the speed, the depth, everything. but not this time. and you realize you like it. a lot. 

something about being completely at his mercy while he roughly fucks your mouth is so incredibly arousing. the loud moans and grunts that pour from hyunjin while he keeps up his unforgiving pace only heighten the entire situation and you know your panties are completely ruined by this point. you find yourself squirming on the bed slightly, rubbing your thighs together to try and release some of the intense ache that's building between them. 

"look at you, already writhing for my touch, and i've barely done anything yet. you like this huh? does my little whore like it when i use her mouth and throat like this?" 

you nod enhusiastically as tears start to gather in your eyes from gagging while he roughly fucks your throat. one breaks loose with his next thrust and starts to trail down your cheek. he slows his pace slightly, before eventually stopping and pulling away. he brings his free hand up to gently wipe the tear away. "good girl, you're such a good little slut for me. taking me so well." 

you can't help the moan that escapes you at his dirty words. 

"i think you deserve a reward for being such a good girl, huh?" you nod eagerly, biting your lip as you think of finally getting to feel him where you so desperately want him. 

his eyes zero in on the movement, and you notice the way his cock jumps as he watches your teeth sink into your bottom lip. 

"lay on your back. center of the bed." you scramble to obey his instructions, ready for whatever he has planned next. 

"now spread your legs." 

his eyes darken even more when you do, lust clouding his vision. he stalks to the end of the bed and slowly, torturously starts to move up the length of your body, nipping and licking and sucking the entire way. 

when he finally reaches the apex of your thighs he pauses for a moment, his face directly level with your dripping pussy. 

his eyes move up to yours as he slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, ghosting along your pussy before he pulls the fabric away and lets it slap back against your skin. your body jolts at the sudden sharp sting, but a moan slips from your lips as the pain mixes with pleasure. 

he does it again, resulting in the same response from you. he does it a third time, this time much harder. you cry out this time, practically thrusting your cunt into his face as you beg for more. 

your reaction shreds any last semblance of self control hyunjin has, and he rips your panties from your body. before they can even hit the floor, he's back between your legs and sliding into you with one easy thrust. you throw your head back at the sensation of him filling you. he makes a few slow, experimental strokes before thrusting all the way into you, leaning forward and biting your shoulder as he does. 

you gasp at the combined feeling of his teeth on your skin and his cock deep inside your pussy. your hands move to scrape up his back, trying to pull him even closer, but he knocks them down with his arms. 

grabbing both your hands with one of his, he moves them above your head, pinning them to the bed. he uses his other hand to grip your hip, tight enough you think it might bruise. and then he starts to fuck you fast and hard, his hips snapping into yours with brutal force. 

you cry out in pleasure as he hits that spot deep inside of you over and over again. you feel a familiar pressure growing low in your belly. when he releases your hip to move his hand between you and start rolling your clit, you know it will only be a few more moments before you shatter completely.

without slowing his pace, he leans down to your ear and whispers. "cum for me, baby, i want to feel you cum on my cock." 

his words tip you over the edge, and your eyes roll back as release slams into you. he continues to fuck you relentlessly throughout your orgasm, drawing it out longer than you thought possible. 

just as you start to come down from your high, he rolls his thumb along your clit again and gives it a sharp pinch. without warning another orgasm crashes over you, rolling into the first. incoherent mumbles and moans pour from your lips as you lose yourself to the pleasure. 

in the midst of being lost in bliss you hear hyunjin utter a few sharp curses, his pace faltering before he thrusts himself deep inside of you. he collapses over top of you, barely managing to keep his body weight from crushing you as his cock pulses inside of you. 

the sensation causes a few afterschocks to roll through you, and you clench around his dick. hyunjin releases a strangled moan at the sensation, fighting off overstimulation as he finishes cumming deep inside of you. 

you both stay like that for a moment, his face buried in your neck as you try to catch your breath. eventually, he pulls out and flops onto his back beside you. 

you roll over on your side to look at him, smiling broadly when you see the stupid grin plastered on his face. 

"feel better?" you tease, snuggling closer to his side. 

"most definitely," he wraps an arm around you, and leans in to kiss you tenderly. when he pulls away, you can see the apology in his eyes before he even opens his mouth. "i'm really sorry, loves, it's been a really long, very rough week for me."

"i know-" he interjects before you can say anything else. 

"but, that doesn't mean i should have been so irritated and snappy when i came home. you have been so helpful and patient with me this entire week, and you didn't deserve for me to act like that around you." 

"it's okay," you say while gently reaching up to push some of his hair out of his face before stroking his cheek. you can see that he wants to interrupt and apologize again, so you continue before he has the chance. "i'm not here with you just for all the good days. i'm here for the days where you kick your shoe across the room, because it's stuck, and it's just one more thing that hasn't gone right. i'm here for the days when you feel like you're going to combust because you're so upset, or tired, or just plain overwhelmed. i'm here for the days you just can't control the frustration anymore. i don't need you to try and pretend to be okay around me just because i'm not what made you upset. i just want to be here and work through it with you. okay?"

a soft smile breaks across his face and he nods slightly as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. 

"plus," you add, throwing him a wry smirk. "we seem to have figured out just what you need when it's been one of those days."

"mmmmm, i believe you're right," a devilish expression crosses his face and his hand slides down to grip your waist. "just know that from now on, if i text you that i've had a rough day, you better be ready." he pulls you closer against him, and you can't help the small moan that escapes you when you feel that he's already hard again. 

"always," you reply breathlessly before twining your fingers around his neck and pulling his mouth to yours.

[yootaesowlwrites]

Please Remove the Cuffs - Hwang Hyunjin

W/C: 6.1K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog. Minors DNI.

Prompts: “I-I want to touch you too. Please remove the cuffs…” + “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Warnings: Smut, explicit language, au, mafia au, Mafia!Hyunjin, handcuffs, teasing, begging, nudism, marking, nipple sucking, nipple licking, handjob, oral(female receiving), cum tasting, hair pulling, unprotected sex, aftercare.

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

“I don’t kneel for anyone, nor do I beg for anyone,” Hyunjin says. You watch as he spoke to his henchmen, a hard expression on his face, but a smirk was slowly forming on your lips. You push yourself away from the wall and make your way out of his office and towards your bedroom upstairs in the house, letting him finish with his meeting while also getting a few things out. It didn’t take long before he was making his way into the bedroom, tossing his blazer aside while rolling up the sleeves of his white dress shirt all the way to his elbows, his tie was already halfway undone.

“Can you close the door?” You ask, looking at him through the mirror that was hanging on the wall above the dresser you were standing at. You watch him close the door before making his way towards you and wrapping his arms around you and placing his chin on your shoulder.

“Hmm, finally alone with you, after an entire day of not being able to touch or hold you,” He softly hums. His eyes slowly move to what was atop the dresser you were standing in front of, and you hear him take in a sharp breath. “And what is all this?”

“Well, you said you don’t kneel for anyone, nor do you beg for anyone,” You say, watching his expression. “I want to test that, will you allow me?” You hear him take in another sharp breath before he picks up the handcuffs that are laid on the dresser and turns you to face him.

“You know that I will always beg for you, kneel for you, whatever it is you want me to do,” He says. He was hopelessly in love with you, there was no denying that, and he would end the world for you if you asked or if anyone dared to lay their filthy hands on you. “So… If you wish to have me handcuffed…” He takes a step back and slowly sinks to his knees in front of you. “And on my knees for you, then you have me like that,” You step forward and take the cuffs from his hand.

“You came in here, rolling up your sleeves… Surely you were already expecting a long night,” You say. You move your hand to the button of his shirt before pausing as another idea pops into your mind. “Put your hands behind your back,” You watch as he moves his hands behind him before you slowly move around him. You bend down, and he feels you placing the cuffs around his wrists before he hears them lock, his heart rate instantly picks p, excitement already coursing through him. You place your hands on his shoulders and your lips brush against the shell of his ear, he could feel your hot breathing, and he had to resist the urge to moan right then and there. “You know what to say when you want it all to stop, right?” He tilts his head back at your voice close to his ear like that.

“Red,” He breathes out. It was a colour you hated and when it would be uttered, everything would stop instantly, because you hated if you hurt him or caused harm to him, and he also hated that. Intimate moments like this were made to make the other one feel like they were floating through the universe. You squeeze his shoulders before your lips disappeared from his ear and your hands lift away from his shoulders, he could hear your footsteps slowly moving as you move back into his view.

“What should I do with you first?” You ask. He was on his knees staring up at you with his hands cuffed behind his back, he already looked like sin, and you hadn’t even started yet. You step closer to him and place your hand underneath his jaw and gently press your fingers into his skin to make sure he keeps looking up at you. “Fuck, you look so…” You lean over and press your lips against his, your eyes shutting immediately as you feel his lips move with yours.

His lips were warm against yours and felt soft, the taste from the iced American he had earlier still lingered on his lips. You slide your tongue over his bottom lip, and he immediately parts his lips, allowing your tongue access to his mouth. Your other hand moves to his shoulder, slipping underneath the dress shirt to feel his warm skin, while your tongue was exploring every inch of his mouth. The room slowly becomes warmer the longer the kiss lasts, and the more intense it grew. Silver strings of saliva break off as you pull back from the kiss and coat his chin, you open your eyes and found his lips swollen from how deeply you had kissed him.

“Fuck…” You whisper. You slowly release his jaw and trace your finger along his lips, feeling how soft it is. Your fingers slowly move along his cheek, over the mole that was on his cheek, before your hand moves away from him as he was starting to lean into your touch. “Your chest… seems so empty.”

“Pillow,” He quickly says before you could move onto your knees. “Get a pillow for yourself,” You nod your head as you feel your heart-warming at his care. You move towards the bed and pick up one of the pillows before making your way back towards him. You drop the pillow in front of him, the wind from the pillow dropping onto the floor rushes around him and makes him shiver. You move onto your knees in front of him and reach out and begin unbuttoning his button-up shirt before pushing it open and slowly slide your hand over his chest, feeling his warm skin underneath the palm of your hands before you slowly slide them slower.

“You are just… everything,” You say. “Everything to me,” You lean closer to him and brush your lips against his neck, he immediately tilts his head back to give you more access to his neck. “Let me leave a little bruise here too,” You whisper before your lips close around the spot you had kissed and begin sucking. His lids flutter as he feels his blood rushing through his veins and going straight to his cock, that was now starting to harden. Your hands pause when your thumbs reached his nipples, and slowly you begin to rub the pads of your thumbs over them.

“Y/n…” He breathes out. He could feel your nose rubbing against his neck as you were sucking on it, and fuck, it was making his mind spin as he felt and heard your hot breath on his skin, along with the feeling of your thumbs rubbing over his nipples, which were quickly becoming sensitive to your touch. “Fuck… I…” Just hearing the groans were making you grow wet, they sounded so delicious. You could feel his body heat reaching yours along with his intoxicating scent that you absolutely love.

You pull back from his neck and look at the mark you had just created on his skin, admiring it for a moment before your lips touched his collarbone, and you begin sucking another bruise into his skin. You slide one of your hands down his stomach, feeling the ridges from his abs underneath your touch before your fingers reach his pants.

“Y/n…” He says, although it sounded more like a whimper. Your hand moves over his pants and slowly feel over his thigh through his pants and slowly move your hand to the inside of his thigh. “Fuck…” Your teeth graze over his skin, and you gently nip at it before you pull back from his collarbone.

“You taste so deliciously,” You say and lick your lips as you look at his face. You could see that his brown eyes had darkened and lust was clouding them. Your hand pauses right before it reaches his hardening cock in his pants, and you could see his jaw clenching for a moment. “Soon,” You dip your head and lick a stripe over his nipple, which causes him to take in a shuddering breath, you do it again while your thumb was playing with his other nipple.

“Yyy/nnn,” He whines, which makes you smirk at the sound of him whining your name. “Fuck, touch me, touch it…” You squeeze his thigh, and he lets out a low groan. “Shit…” You move your hand to cup his bulge through his pants, and his breathing stops for a moment. “Fuck…” You slowly palm him through his pants and hear his breathing becoming harder and deeper. “Y/n…” Your lips wrap around his nipple, and you gently suck on the bud. You slide your hand away from his chest and up towards his shoulder before you slowly push his shirt down his shoulder to expose him a little more.

“Y/n…” He groans out. He could hear your loud breathing against his chest as you suck on his nipple, which was causing sweat to break out onto his skin and slowly covers him. You could feel his cock growing bigger underneath your touch, and the tent in his pants was becoming more prominent. “Fuck, Y/n…” You pull back from his nipple, and he moves from sitting on his knees to standing on them. “Please…” You look up at him as he looks down at you with pleading eyes. “Please…” Your hand slides from his shoulder and over his chest and down his stomach until your fingers curl into his pants.

“Do you want to sit somewhere?” You ask as you slide your hand away from his clothed cock and towards the button on his pants. He feels you unbutton his pants before hearing the zipper being undone and his pants falling down until it reached his knees.

“No, no, I’m fine right here, like this,” He says. “You want me on my knees, I’ll stay on my knees for you,” Your fingers slide along the waistband of his underwear, he could feel a shiver going up his spine at your touch.

“Are you sure?” You ask. “Because I won’t mind if you want to sit at the edge of the bed if it’s going to be easier,” He shakes his head, taking in a deep breath, your eyes move lower, and you watch as his stomach rises and falls.

“I’m fine right here,” He says. “I’ll let you know if I can’t anymore…” You nod your head and curl your fingers around the waistband of his underneath and slowly yet carefully push it down and over his cock. “Fucking fuck…” You push his underwear down to his knees before flattening your hands against his thighs and slowly sliding your hands upwards, leaving a burning trail behind on his skin. “So good…” Your hands slide over the crease of his hips and you lean closer. You keep your eyes on his face to watch his reaction and see his lids fluttering as your breath got closer and closer to his stomach. “Ohhh,” You watch his lids shut as your lips touch below his belly button, and you slowly kiss a line down to his pubic bone.

“Shit…” He breathes out. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows loudly, you could see the sweat becoming thicker on his skin, and it was starting to glow underneath the lights. You flatten your tongue against his stomach and lick a stripe back upwards, moving away from his cock and where he wanted your attention the most. “Tease…”

“Like you’re complaining,” You state and blow against the spot you had just licked, you watch his muscles tighten for a moment and hear a low grunt coming from him. You slide your hand down his thigh before moving it to the inside of his thigh and upwards, you watch him open his eyes and look down at you, trying to see where your hand was travelling towards.

“Never said I wa- aah, ohh,” He moans as he feels your hand cup his balls. You gently massage his balls, and you watch his chest rising and falling faster as his breathing becomes faster. You kiss down his stomach again before you lift your head and move it to his thigh, avoiding his cock. “The power you have over me…” You kiss over his thigh, nipping at his skin every few times. “I’ll beg for you, I don’t mind, I’ll beg for you to give me what I want so badly right now… I’m not ashamed to beg,” You smirk against his skin and pull back.

“Then beg,” You say. You watch him swallow again, his hair was sticking to his neck and to his forehead already from the sweat. Your hand moves to his thigh and your fingers stroke along his skin, and you feel goosebumps forming on his skin.

“I… Y/n…” He begins and swallows again. “Please… touch it, please, I want you to touch my cock,” You could feel your pussy twitch from his words. “I need you to touch my cock, fuck… I need to feel your hand around it,” You lick your lips as you feel heat travelling through your body and sweat slowly building up on your skin. “I need to feel your touch,” You glance down at his cock and watch pre-cum glistening at the slit. “Please… fuck, please,” You look back at his face and right into his pleading eyes. Just seeing his face in such a state and hearing him pleading with you, begging for you to touch him. “I’m desperate for your touch, I need it so badly,” It was soaking your panties. “Fuck… Y/n… Yyy/nnn, please,” His tone quickly became whiny.

“Fuck, you sound so hot right now,” You say. Your hand slowly slides higher on his thighs, and you watch him buck his hips forward, trying to get you to touch him. “You’re so needy… I love it,” A whimper leaves his lips.

“Please…” He whispers. You watch his body jerk as you place your index finger on the underside of his cock and slowly slide it downwards. “Ohh, oh, fuck, fuck, more, please,” His head tilts back as your finger reaches the base of his cock. “Fuck, please… OH!” You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and slowly slide it along his length. “Fuuuckk,” Your movement was painfully slow as you drag your hand along, and he was desperate to feel your hand along his entire shaft. “Faster…”

“Faster?” You ask. “Aren’t you being too eager now?” He lets out a groan as your hand finally reaches the head of his cock. “Better?” A whimper leaves his lips as you slowly circle your thumb around the tip of his cock.

“Fuck…” He breathes out. You were teasing him, and making him sweat, but he doesn’t regret saying those words in front of you. You slowly slide your thumb over the slit where his pre-cum was oozing out and spread it over the tip, his breathing picks up at that, and you couldn’t help but smirk. You slowly slide your hand down his cock, leaving a glistering stripe behind on his cock as you do. “F-fuckk,” Your hand slides back up, and you gather more of his pre-cum to spread over his length. “S-so good, fuck, Y-Y/n,” Hearing him stuttering like this was absolutely delicious.

“Yeah… you like this?” You ask and twist your hand at the base of his cock, a squelching sound quickly fills the room, and he sucks in his stomach at the sound and at the feeling that runs through him. “Like that?” Your hand moves to the middle of his cock, and you twist it again, spreading his pre-cum even more. His skin was completely flushed, and he desperately tried to fuck himself on your hand. Your other hand squeezes his balls, making his breathing hitch. “Feels nice, doesn’t it?” His cock was now glistening with his pre-cum and he was breathing loudly.

“I-I want to touch you too.” He breathes out. “Please remove the cuffs…” You slowly slide your hand down his cock before you pull your hands away from his cock and balls. “Nhhhooo,” He whines out and lifts his head to look at you. A hint of deviousness was swimming in your eyes, it was practically dancing with the lust that covered your eyes.

“I can do that,” You say. He watches as you begin to unbutton your shirt before you slowly pull it down your arms to expose yourself, he swallows as he watches you remove your bra and licks his lips before his eyes zeros in only our chest. “I can touch myself for you.”

“Nooo, fuck, no, I want to touch you, I want to feel you,” He says in a pleading tone, which makes you smirk even more. You stand from the pillow, and he watches as your hands move to the waistband of your pants.

“Well…” You begin and push your pants down along with your panties, his eyes immediately drop to your pussy, he could only see your mound and thighs, but he could already imagine your pussy in front of his eyes. “How about you stay on your knees like that, handcuffed and desperate, while eating me out?” He lets out a loud moan, and you watch his eyes roll to the back of his head, his lips shutting for a moment, and you watch as he tries to get his breathing under control. “I take that as a yes?” He sits down on his knees and opens his eyes to watch you. You step closer, and he tugs at the cuffs, wanting to reach out for you and pull you closer to him, but he was quickly reminded that he was cuffed and could only watch.

“Come here,” He practically growls out. You feel your insides twist and your wetness grows between your folds. You reach out and run your fingers through his hair before gripping it and pulling his head back before you stepped closer to him, he immediately leans closer, and you spread your legs for him. His lips brush over your mound, leaving a brief kiss on it, before his tongue was licking at your folds and pushed past them to get to your juices.

“Ohh, oh, yes, that’s so warm,” You breathe out. His tongue slides over the inside of your folds, trying his best to avoid your clit for the time being. “Fuck… yes…” His tongue glides along your folds, and you hear him swallowing loudly. “Fuck, yes…” His tongue circles back and your back arches as you feel the texture of his tongue finally slide over your clit. “Ohh, my fucking… yes…” You close your eyes as you feel an unexplainable sensation run through your body, a tightening feeling begins building inside your lower abdomen. You could hear your heart rate picking as it drummed loudly in your ears, you could a fire igniting inside you and your skin quickly felt like it was set ablaze with pleasure. You pull at his hair as you feel him lick your clit once more before taking the bundle of nerves between his lips and sucking on it.

“Ohh, ohh, fuck, yes. Yes, Hyun…” You moan out. You could feel your mind slowly begin to spin at the sensation that was coursing through your veins and taking over all of your senses. The tip of his tongue plays with your clit as he sucks on the nub, and you could feel the tension inside you growing along with your growing wetness. “Hyun… Fuck,” You lower your gaze and saw him looking up at you from between your legs with big needy, lust-filled eyes. “FUCK!”

“Hmm,” He hums against your clit. Which makes your mind spin as the vibrations from his hum travel through you, and right into the knot of tension that was building. “Hmm,” The sensation goes up your spine, and it feels like it exploded inside your mind.

“Fucking… HYUN!” You cry out as you feel him tug on the nub before releasing it. Your breathing was hard and loud, and you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to continue standing like this. He pushes his head more between your legs, and you feel his tongue reach your sopping hole.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” He mutters against your pussy, which makes your walls clench and your knees to shake. His tongue presses against your slit, and he licks at your juices that were only increasing from the stimulation his tongue was giving.

“Fu-fuck, Hy-Hyun,” You stutter out. You could feel your muscles slowly tightening as your high was slowly starting to inch closer. “Fuck, Oh, my fuck…” You could feel his nose rubbing against your clit as he licked at your hole, which was adding to the stimulation it were already feeling. “Like that… yes,” You close your eyes as you begin to feel an intense pleasure overtaking you. “Hyun…” Your grip on his hair tightens as you feel your muscles starting to stiffen. “I…” His breathing was loud against your clit, and the feeling of his hot breath right there was making everything spin. You could hear the loud squelching wet sounds as he licks your juices and swallows them.

“Fucking…” You hiss out as you feel his tongue push inside you. Your legs were starting to feel weak underneath you, and you were becoming more unsure if you would be able to keep standing with his tongue now buried inside you, curling and twisting as he tries to get more of your juices. “FUCK!” Your toes curl against the bedroom floor and your eyes roll to the back of your head behind your lids as stars suddenly explode behind them. “HYUNJIN!” A tingling sensation shoots up your legs, which causes the tension inside you to snap. “OH, OHH, UHHMM!”

“Hmm-mhh,” He hums against your pussy as you cum, and he could only swallow and lick at it. Your body shakes as you fight to keep standing on your own two legs as you go through your orgasm, but his humming as he swallows your juices was making it hard.

“FUCKING, HYUNJIN, HYUNJIN!” You cry out in pleasure, you could feel tears of pleasure forming in your eyes and slowly leaking down your cheeks. “UHM, OHH!” Your mind floats through the clouds before it slowly begins to descend back to earth. Your grip on his hair loosens, and you take in a deep breath as you feel his tongue sliding from your slit to your clit before you took a step back to look down at him. Your cum drips from his chin and down his neck and starts to go down his chest. “Fuck…” You could feel your hair sticking to your neck and shoulders.

“You taste so delicious,” He mutters and licks his lips, trying to clean them. You take a few steps back before turning around and grabbing the keys for the handcuffs that were laying on the dresser. He watches as you approach him, your body glowing underneath the lights and from the sweat. You move out of his view, and he feels your hot breath against the back of his neck before he felt your hands at his wrists.

“Fuck me like you mean it,” You mutter, just low enough for him to hear it. You unlock the cuffs and remove them from his hands, he immediately stood and turned around to pull you to your feet, making you drop the cuffs to the floor. His hands grab onto your hips, and he begins backing you up towards the bed, while stepping out from his pants and underwear as he does.

“And what if I want you to ride me?” He asks. His tone was rough and his eyes dark with pleasure, his grip was tight on your hips, and you knew you would find some light bruising on your skin there in the morning. He dips his head down to your neck, and you feel his lips on your neck, peppering soft kisses on your skin. You reach up and push his shirt completely off him and let it hit the floor

“That shouldn’t stop you,” You say and turn him around and push him down onto the bed. You immediately climb onto the bed and on top of him, straddling his waist, and immediately felt his hard cock pushing against your pussy. He watches as you take your place on top of him before you reach between your legs for his cock and wrap your hand around it before guiding it through your folds.

“Fuck, fuck, ohhh, fuck,” He moans. He felt overly sensitive from you touching him earlier and then waiting to be inside you. You push the head of his cock inside you and slowly sink onto him. “Ohh, fucking…. gaaawwdd,” He groans as he feels your walls squeezing around him. “Fuck, fuck… Oh, my fucking…”

“Ohh, oh, yes, hmm…” You moan as you feel his cock stretching your walls and filling your hole. “Hyunjin… Hyun, fuck…” The squelching sound of your wetness fills the room. His hands grip your hips, and you feel him guide you faster onto his cock.

“Y/n… fuck, Yyyy/nnnn,” He whines. The warm-wet feeling was making his mind spin, and he swears he could come undone right then and there. “Fuck, so good… so good,” You look down at him, fighting to keep your lids open as the sensation of him filling you was making you want to close your eyes. He was staring up at you as well, fighting to keep his eyes open to look at you. “Fuck, you look so good on top of me,” Your walls clench around him, and you watch him intake sharply. You pause on top of him once his cock was fully submerged inside of you, you press your hands against his chest to keep yourself upright.

“Fuck…” You breathe out, taking a moment to gather your breathing and adjust to the stretch his cock was giving. “It… you… so good,” You lift your hips and slowly begin riding him, his eyes drop to your chest, and he watches as your tits bounce along with you. You could feel your juices splattering on the inside of your thigh as you ride him, the wet squelching sound fills the room along with the sounds of your moans and his grunts and groans. “Hyun…” His hips buck upwards to meet yours halfway, and you scratch at his chest, leaving red streak marks behind on his golden skin.

“Fuck… fuck,” He grunts out. His upward thrusts were slowly becoming desperate. “So good, you look so good on top of me,” He could see your neck glistening with sweat, and it slowly slides down and over your chest, the way you were breathing and the way your muscles were tightening was making him grow desperate by the second to roll you over and take over. His eyes travel lower until his eyes settle on his cock and your pussy, watching as he disappears into you before reappearing, coated with your juices. “FUCK!” You watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head and, at the same time, his grip tightens on your hips.

“Hyunjin,” You moan out. You suddenly find yourself looking up at him and watching as he places your legs over his shoulders and deeply thrusts into you. Your back arches at the different angle, and you feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “HYUN!” You reach up with one hand and tangle your fingers into his hair, while your other hand grabs onto the bedding and twists the fabric between your fingers and pulls at it. The sound of skin slapping against skin bounces off the walls, his thrusts were rapid and almost desperate.

“Fuck… fucking,” He grunts, and you feel his hand sliding along your arm. You release the bedding and turn your hand around just in time for his hand to reach yours and his fingers to intertwine with yours. “Squeezing me so good…” His voice sounded strained as he spoke. Your walls were pulsing around his cock, slowly starting to milk him for an orgasm. “You… you’re all mine,” You squeeze his hand, and he immediately squeezes it back.

“And you’re all mine,” You say. You could feel your muscles tightening as your orgasm was building inside you. “Mine,” You stare into each other’s eyes as he thrusts into you. “Hyun…”

“Yours,” He whispers. Your back arches and your eyes roll to the back of your head before your lids shut, your head turns from side to side as your body shakes with immense pleasure, the tension inside you snaps and your mind is thrown into the clouds while your body floats through the air.

“HYUN!” You cry out as you feel his cock hitting all the right spots from his desperate thrusts. You squeeze his hand tighter, and you pull at his hair as you go through your high. “UH, HYUNJIN!” Your toes curl and your legs shake as tingling sensations travel up and down your spine. Stars fly past your vision and your skin felt like it was burning. “F-FUCK!” His hips stutter as he feels your release pushing past his cock as he thrusts. “RIGHT THERE!”

“Fuck, yes… fuck, keep doing that,” He mutters. He could feel his balls starting to tighten and along with that, his muscles begin tightening also. “Just like that, fu-fuck, keep squeezing me, baby,” Your walls were clenching around him uncontrollably from how sensitive it was. “Fuck… Fuck!” He throws his head back and swallows loudly, his thrusts were uneven and desperate as he needed his release, his mind was spinning, and it felt like he was ages away from getting his release. “YYYY/NNNNN!” His high washes over him, and he desperately tries to keep his pace as hot ropes of cum spill into you, filling you with his load.

You slowly loosen your grip on his hand and hair and feel his hips slowing down until they were rocking into yours as he eases himself through his high along with the help of your walls still slowly pulsing around him. You slide your hand from his hair to the back of his neck and gently hold onto him until he carefully removes one of your legs from his shoulder and lays it down on the bed. He slowly releases your hand, and you lift your other leg and lays it down on the bed before he lowers himself down on you and buries his head in the crook of your neck, breathing hard as his hips come to a halt against yours.

You both lay there for a moment, breathing hard and feeling the afterglow starting to settle in as the air surrounding you begins to cool down and nip at your sweat-coated skin. Your fingers gently rub at the back of his neck as you feel him leaving soft kisses on your neck between catching his breath. He lifts his head after a few more minutes and looks down at you while you look up at him, you stare in silence before he slowly sits up on his knees and his cock slowly pulls out from you as you release his neck.

“Are your wrists okay?” You were the first to break the silence between you both. Your eyes flash down to his wrists for the first time, and you see some red marks on them, he rubs them and nods his head.

“All good,” He says, and climbs off the bed. You sit upright and turn to the side of the bed, and place your feet on the floor. “Let’s get in the shower, and you can tell me if you enjoyed yourself,” You bite your lip as you think back to him looking up at you while he was on his knees and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

“Next time, I want them above your head,” You say as you stand from the bed. You could feel your legs feeling shaky as you stand, he immediately climbs off the bed and moves to your side, also feeling unstable on his legs.

“Above my head, you say,” He says as he guides you into the bathroom. “I’ll have to make some adjustments to our room then,” You smile and enter the bathroom, he leads you to the toilet and carefully helps you sit down on it before he moves towards the shower.

“Well… that’s only if you want to try that,” You say. He turns the water on, and it quickly heats up and begins steaming up the bathroom. “I just had this picture in my mind with you on your knees and your hands tied above your head…” You watch his back muscles tense for a moment before he turns to you.

“Then I should make those adjustments to our room,” He says. You finish on the toilet, and he quickly joins you at your side and guides you into the shower. The water immediately hits your skin, and you let out a hum of contention as you feel your muscles relaxing and the sweat already being washed off your skin. “As for right now,” He reaches for the soap and your wash cloth. “Let’s get clean and go relax into our bed,” You smile and grab his soap and his wash cloth and drizzle some of the soap onto it as he begins lathering up your cloth. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm,” You hum as you put his soap back. “All okay,” You smile at him and begin washing him, he carefully washes over your shoulders before washing over your chest. “I had fun, I enjoyed that… did you?” The water rinses off the soap just as quickly as you had washed over him.

“That was fun,” He says. “Are you now satisfied to know that you have me at your mercy?” You bite the inside of your cheeks and look down as you wash his thighs and cock.

“Well, I will admit, that it is good to know that I do,” You say and begin rinsing the cloth once you had washed almost every part of him. His hand slips between your thighs, and you pause for a moment as you feel him cleaning your thighs.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to use water to clean there,” He says. You nod your head and watch as he pulls the cloth back and begins to rinse it. You ring out his cloth and put it back at its spot. Once he was sure that the cloth was cleaned from soap, he carefully cleans your pussy before rinsing the cloth again. “All right, should I splash some water there also?” You chuckle before closing the taps.

“No, it feels clean,” You say. “Let’s go, I can use some cuddles now,” He opens the shower door and you both step out of the shower, he immediately grabs your towel and wraps it around you before grabbing his own and wrapping it around himself. “Let me,” You reach for his towel and begin drying him, you work carefully over him, taking a few moments to admire the marks you had left behind on his skin.

“Next time, it’s your neck that’s going to get marked up,” He says as he takes your towel and begins drying you. You smile and nod your head before hanging his towel as he was drying your thighs.

“I can’t wait then,” You say. Once you were both dried, you leave the bathroom and begin to get dressed, he quickly stops you when you were reaching for your own shirt and lifts one of his own t-shirts up into view. You could already smell him on the fabric and reach for it.

“Let me help,” He says. You lift your arms, and he carefully pulls the shirt over your arms before pulling it over your head and pulling it into place. “Beautiful… as always,” You could feel your cheeks heat up at his words and watch as he pulls on his underwear. You were about to pick up your own pair of panties before he moves his underwear into his view. “Wear this also,” You take it from him and slip it on and look up at him. “Fuck… you just look so hot in my clothes,” He steps closer to you and cups your cheek and leans closer to you, you quickly close the distance between you both by pressing your lips against his, kissing him gently yet passionately, and he could taste the love through the kiss.

To the world he was cruel and cold, but to you… he was the warmest soul you ever knew, he was everything to you. Your world, your universe, and you knew that you were the same to him.

[blossomwritesthings]

Hyunjin sickfic when. *folds arms waiting patiently* 🤭

I love your writing sm I’m gonna cry

𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hospital visit. this one's got angst in it. reader is sick (with a sprained ankle). hyunjin is worried af, as he should be lmao. reader has low self-esteem w/her dancing abilities, and has difficulty opening up about how she truly feels. pet names (affectionately). toothe-rotting fluff.

word count: 6.3k (yikes got carried away with this one wtf)

summary: it's been proving to be very difficult to keep the dance class that you take three times a week a secret from your boyfriend hyunjin. and the lies only become even harder to tell when you suddenly hurt your foot during class one night.

a/n: originally, i was planning on posting this yesterday as a kind of valentine's day gift for you guys, but then uni homework raw-dogged me like a total bitch and i got fucked over with a horrible migraine later in the night... i love my life!!! 😊 anyways, this was really fun to write- i FUCKING ADORE SOFT HYUNJIN!!! 😭 thanks for requesting, @hyungenie5... i hope this little piece of writing is to your liking, and thanks for your support~ 🤍

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The dance class was supposed to remain a secret. No one - not even your boyfriend Hyunjin - was supposed to know that you were taking it until it was long over in the summer. By the end of the class, you hoped that your skills would improve immensely and that you’d be able to join your boyfriend in the studio some time to dance with him. 

 But unfortunately, those grand plans all came to a halt late one Friday night. 

 When you were practicing a certain twirl that had been giving you a hard time for the past week. For some reason, one of the laces of your sneakers had come undone. And this prompted you to trip over it when you suddenly came out of the spin. 

 You landed on the ground in a heap of limbs, clenching down hard on your jaw at the feel of a sharp pain shooting through your left ankle. The ache was agonizing, and it took everything in you to not scream out in anguish at the feeling that had quickly exploded inside your ankle. 

 Soon, your classmates rushed over and helped you off of the floor and onto a nearby bench, where your teacher took a look at your foot.

 “It doesn’t look too bad, it’s just a bit swollen from the impact,” she said, peering up at you, a sheen of sweat glistening across her exposed forehead. It was sweltering in the practice room at the gym where you were taking the lessons, and everyone crowding around you was out of breath from the routine that the class had been practicing tirelessly for the last month or so. “I’d advise you to keep off of it as much as you can for the next few days and ice it every night. Don’t come into class Monday and instead give it a rest, and it should be better by the next session on Wednesday.” Your teacher instructed you, before giving your knee a gentle squeeze and going back to a group of students who needed her advice on a certain move. You had class every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday late in the night, but surprisingly, the sessions were always packed with wannabe dancers, even late into the night. It just proved how many people desperately wanted to become better dancers. And you were one of those ‘people.’ 

 “Can you make it to your car alone?” One of your classmates asked. You looked up at Yejun, offering her a smile that quickly turned into a grimace of pain. You had met her soon after you started the class, and the two of you had grown closer over the past few months. 

 But no one knew who you were dating - who your boyfriend of three years was. They couldn’t know, otherwise, that would jeopardize everything Hyunjin did for work and your entire livelihood. So, you mostly stayed silent about the intimate details of your personal life with everyone else and opted to talk about the surface-level things in your life.

 “Yeah, I don’t think I can do it,” you laughed in a humorless kind of way. Without another word, Yejun was picking up the large duffle bag that you always brought with you to practice. Then, she was slipping an arm around your waist and leading you out of class and through the spacious gym. It was still relatively busy even for it being so late in the night on a Friday.

 “You promise that you’re gonna rest?” She rose a black, perfectly-manicured eyebrow your way as you shuffled out of the main doors of the gym. 

 And even though you had only known her for a few months, she could get a pretty good read on you. How you didn’t like asking people for help and how you tended to bottle things up all of the time. You had done such a thing since you were a very little girl, and you supposed there was no changing the way your mind was built. Even still, this aspect of your personality drove Hyunjin insane. He’d pry and pry and pry for you to tell him what was truly wrong with you, and it’d take more than just a few kisses and gentle words to finally get you to talk. It didn’t matter who you were with - who you were talking to - you just… couldn’t talk about really personal stuff most of the time. 

 “Yeah, yeah- I’ll rest all this weekend.” You rolled your eyes at Yejun as you stopped just in front of your car. You pulled out your keys, unlocking the doors before throwing your duffle bag into the backseat. 

 “Okay, well… drive safe and take it easy, yeah?” She mumbled, pulling you into a gentle hug, and you gave her a quick pat on the back before pulling away. “See you on Wednesday?” 

 You flashed her a playful wink, “Sure thing!” You waved her off as you slipped into the driver’s seat of your car. Your friend returned the gesture before she turned around and jogged back into the gym. 

 As soon as she was out of sight, you let out the moan of misery that you had been holding in for the last few minutes. The pain seemed to shoot through your ankle in quick increments, traveling up the length of your leg and pooling in your knee. 

 Holding onto the steering wheel with a death-like grip, you took a few deep breaths. The ache wouldn’t be this bad forever. You just needed to ice it. Just follow what your teacher told you to do, and you’ll be fine. You said all of these things and more to yourself inside your head as you turned your key in the car's socket and the car’s ignition roared to light. 

 Just get home and get in bed, and then everything will be alright. 

 But everything was not alright. 

 This was made so apparent when you stood in front of your apartment door and the remembrance dawned on you that Hyunjin had the entire weekend off. So that meant that he would be home earlier than he usually would be on a Friday night. And since it was a quarter-past-eleven at night, he was sure to be home.

 Fuck. 

 It had already been an entire production getting out of your car and into your apartment’s elevator, what with your limping form and all. But now you had to face your very own boyfriend, who wasn’t even aware that you were taking a dance class in the first place. You wanted it to be a surprise for him. You had always been self-conscious about your dance skills ever since you were a little girl. 

  And then you went ahead and started dating one of the best dancers in all of the Kpop industry. As a consequence, your self-esteem in the dancing department tanked astonishingly low. You’d regularly join Hyunjin in the studio late at night at the company, and sometimes he’d try to teach you some of Stray Kids choreo. But most of the time, you made a complete fool of yourself, and instead opted to just watch him from the sidelines. Watch in silence, offering praise when you could, about how perfect his angles were, how amazing his technique was, and how his flow and rhythm were impeccable with the music. 

 Meanwhile, deep inside your mind, you were playing the same thought over and over again; why can’t you just be a better dancer like him? Why can you just not suck at it, for once in your damn life? He probably thinks your horrible, and he’s right… no wonder why he stopped offering you teach you. 

 But in the new year, finally feeling fed up from always feeling shitty when your boyfriend would show you a video of his dance practices, or when you’d watch him in the studio, you decided to sign up for the beginner's contemporary dance class at your local gym. 

 It was daunting, at first, to go by yourself without knowing anyone there, but soon, you got used to the feeling and genuinely started to enjoy your time spend in the studio. It was hard work, that was for sure, but you liked the idea of finally finishing it in the early spring and then surprising your amazingly-talented dancer boyfriend with the choreo that you had learned and practiced tirelessly for the past few months, unbeknownst to him. 

 To keep the class a secret from Hyunjin, you had lied and told him that you were going to the local gym and lifting weights. And it wasn’t a complete lie, because technically, you were at the gym. You just weren’t lifting any weights. 

 Nevertheless, Hyunjin had been hesitant about the idea. Especially since you would be coming and going so late at night. At first, he had protested against it because of how many creeps could be hanging around the gym that late at night. He didn’t want you willingly putting yourself in any danger from being out so late alone. But, after much negotiation and pleading on your part, you had managed to convince him to be okay with it. And then, you were off… attending the class three times a week and absorbing the lessons like a little ocean sponge out in deep sea waters. 

 You gathered up all of the courage you still had inside of you as you shuffled across the apartment’s threshold. A couple of the lights were left on in the living room, and dim classical music was filtering out through the nearby room to the right of you. Hyunjin’s art studio. The two of you had chosen this specific apartment to rent out because it offered two bedrooms, and the space that he wanted to make his office had an amazing, large bay window that showcased a huge portion of Seoul's cityscape. The view in there was breathtaking and was the key inspiration for a lot of his recent art pieces. 

 A sigh of relief fled from your lips as you dropped your duffle bag down on the nearby dining room table and made to get some ice for your foot. Your entire body was sticky from your dried sweat, and you longed to hop into the shower for a nice cool-off. Just as soon as you ice your ankle. 

 Just as you were filling up a small plastic bag of ice, you heard a door open behind you. Then, in a few beats, you felt two long arms wrap around your waist from behind. If you weren’t in so much pain at that moment, you would’ve been happy to feel Hyunjin’s presence at your back. But mostly, you just felt exhausted and irritable. And these were two things that didn’t mix well together.

 “Welcome home, sweetheart,” he muttered, as he leaned down with his tall frame to pepper gentle kisses against your shoulder. “How was your workout?” 

 “Fine, I guess.” You said in a slightly-dismissive tone, as you finished filling up your baggie with ice. 

 “And why in the world are you filling up a plastic bag with ice?”

 Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach at his question. Because in your state of discomfort and exhaustion, you hadn’t thought out the lie that you would have to tell him for why you could barely fucking walk. And you definitely couldn’t tell him to the extent that the pain was at. But there was no getting around the fact that you had hurt yourself, so better to tell a small white lie than ignore it entirely. 

 “I, uh- kinda hurt my foot when I was working out with weights tonight, but I’m okay.” You said, trying to keep your voice light and airy. 

 Immediately as the words fell from your lips, Hyunjin was turning you around. His eyes raked over your face, assessing your neutral expression before flitting down to the rest of your body. Like he’d be able to see any other injuries you hadn’t told him about if he looked hard enough. 

 “Are you sure you’re okay?” His brows were furrowed in worry, the concern blatantly shining in his dark brown eyes. His fingers brushed across your cheek, before tucking a few stray, sweaty strands of your hair behind your ear. 

 You gave him a soft smile, leaning up to ruffle his fluffy, peachy-pink hair a little bit. “Yes babe, I’m fine.” 

 “Then, you should rest and use the ice pack.” 

 You gave him a sardonic grin, “That’s what I was trying to do before you stopped my plans and started to grill me with questions.” 

 He slipped his arms from your hips and reluctantly stepped away from your frame to allow you space to continue your routine. But not before he leaned down into you with his towering form and pressed a gentle kiss against your lips. And if your foot didn’t currently hurt like a bitch, you probably would’ve melted into his embrace and let him hold and kiss you for a long time after that. Instead, you just felt like a sweaty ball of painful shit and wanted to hop into bed as soon as possible. 

 “I’ll be in my office if you need anything…” Hyunjin’s delicate voice stayed with you in the kitchen, as he trekked back to the door to his office. 

 You quickly grabbed a kitchen dish towel to use to wrap around your bag of ice. “Alright. I’m going to take a quick shower and then head to bed.” 

 “I’ll be there in a little while,” your boyfriend said, and when you looked up at him, he was giving you this sweet, pure look of devotion. But it was also mixed with a tad bit of unease. He never did like the idea of you being injured in any way. “Try to get some rest, yeah?” 

 “Sure, baby,” you flashed him a wink, “but only if you come to bed relatively early tonight.” It seemed like he was always slipping into bed late these days… curling up behind you well past three in the morning. He proclaimed that it was only because inspiration struck him the strongest late into the night, and while you weren’t one to stand between an artist and their craft, there had to be a better solution for inspiration than ruining his entire sleep schedule.

 “I'll sure try, sweetheart.” Hyunjin’s soft voice followed behind you, as you made your way to your shared bedroom. 

 At least you weren’t the only one who told lies in the relationship. 

 The next day, your foot hurt like a literal bitch all day long. The pain wasn’t too bad after you first woke up, and upon icing it for a little while, it felt somewhat better. But then you went about the apartment doing the chores that you usually did every Saturday, and the discomfort returned tenfold. 

 At one point, it was so bad that when you sat down on the living room couch for a few minutes to give it a rest, you could barely get up again. And when you untucked your sock after lunch, you noticed how your left foot was looking a little… discolored. Some parts of your ankle were grayed, and a tiny bit of swelling was present too. But you had hurt it in dance, so that was to be expected. 

 You tried to hide the agony that you were in from your boyfriend, but being the perceptive man that he was, he automatically picked up on it. After all, he had become attuned over the years to understanding when you were feeling shitty since it took you so long to admit to him how you were feeling. Throughout the day, he’d ask you if you were okay and force you to sit down for a few minutes to ice the hurting foot. 

 But it was after dinner that he finally decided to put his foot down about the whole thing. He had dragged you over to the living room couch, practically throwing you onto the plush cushions before plopping down beside you. 

 “And what gives you the right to think you can throw me around like your own personal rag doll?” You asked, playfulness dripping from your tone. You turned to him and rose a quizzical eyebrow his way as he turned on the tv and flipped through Netflix to find a movie to watch. The usual thing that you two liked to do every Saturday night; was curl up on the couch and get all cozy with each other. The movie nights either ended in one of two ways, cuddling until you both fell asleep right then and there, or making out and soon traveling into the bedroom for a long night of fun. 

 “I’m forcing you to take a break, that’s what I’m doing,” he leveled you with a serious face, a slight frown pulling his mouth downwards. 

 You folded your arms across your chest defensively, “I don’t need a break, babe. I’m fine.” 

 “Oh yeah? Well then, I guess I’ve just been imagining all of the pained faces that you’ve been making all day, or that perpetual furrow in your brow that you always get when you’re holding something in?” Hyunjin said, voice completely flat. Just then he reached out to you, wrapping a long arm around your waist and yanking you close to his side before tucking a fuzzy blanket around the two of you. 

 “I’m not furrowing my brows.” You said defensively, even though you had given up on fighting him any longer. Honestly, you were a little too tired from all of the hurt and activity of the day to care. So you snuggled deeper against him, slinging your arms around his waist and breathing in his scent of fresh linen and sweet roses. “And besides, the apartment needed cleaning. A bad foot wasn’t going to stop me from completing my mission.” You had taken some pain medication soon after lunch, but since it was late into the night, it had worn off. You’d have to take some before you went to bed, but it didn’t seem to help that much, since you had still been in pain even after taking it in the middle of the day.

 “Just shut up and relax, will ya?” Your boyfriend all but grumbled, as he finally selected some random thriller to watch. You hid your smile behind your blanket as you felt him lean down and press a few kisses atop the crown of your head. “Just want you to feel better, my love…” 

 You turned your head up on his shoulder so that you were staring right into his expressive dark-brown eyes. “And I already do feel better just with your kisses alone.” A smirk spread across your mouth, as you leaned into him and your mouths met again in a soft kiss. 

 Your boyfriend motioned with his head to the flashing tv screen in front of the two of you, “Now, let’s focus on the movie so that you can get your mind off of the discomfort.” 

 A few giggles escaped from deep inside of you at his serious tone. He truly did care a lot about you and your well-being. And so that’s why you didn’t want to tell him how bad the pain was. Because you knew that as soon as you told him, he’d get himself all worked up into a tizzy and obsess over your health until you were back to one-hundred-and-twenty percent. Would practically nurse you back to health, ignoring all of his other duties at the company until he could confirm with his own two eyes that his girlfriend was feeling much better than before. 

 So you stayed silent, refraining from revealing to him how much agony you truly were in from your foot alone. You turned your attention to the movie in front of you. 

 And the feel of his long, muscular arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing slightly, the comforting sense of his warm body just beside yours, did wonders to the pain. It worked better than any of the medicine in the entire world, and you soon found yourself completely ignoring and forgetting the ache that was shooting through your foot and up into your veins and instead was basking in the feel and smell of your very loving boyfriend. 

 “Sweetheart, do you want to stop and take a rest for a minute?” Hyunjin asked you in a gentle voice the next day. What with it being Sunday and since the two of you were still off from work, you had decided to spend the day out on the town - shopping around. 

 You two had already eaten a sweet breakfast of pastries and coffee at a local cafe and were currently walking the streets of Hongdae, in search of a matching set of hoodies that fit both of your styles perfectly. So far, you had had no luck at the boutiques that you had already searched. The fuzzy hoodies were either too frilly or too plain...

 You shook your head vehemently, “No, I’m fine… don’t worry about me.” But you knew you telling him that would only make him worry even more. Since your foot only hurt even worse when you woke up early that morning. The pain throbbed up your leg now, and it felt like somehow was grasping harshly at your left ankle bone every time you walked on it, rattling the thing bitterly. 

 You were practically limping pathetically at your boyfriend's side, desperate hands clutching at his arm to stop you from completely toppling over into a pile of weak limbs right there. Because that’s what you were feeling at that exact moment; weak. 

 Hyunjin ran a frustrated hand through his peachy-pink locks, an exasperated sigh flooding from his lips, “I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to us going out today-” He started to grumble beside you. 

 Just then, the two of you stepped over a particular area of sidewalk that was somewhat cracked in the middle. And of course, your left shoe - your bad foot - just had to get caught in the tiny space there. Immediately, your body hurled to the ground as you grasped for your boyfriend. Thankfully, he caught you just in time before you hit the asphalt, pulling you up onto your feet again. 

 And when you stood straight once more, the agony only intensified even more so. Feeling so overwhelmed by it, and so, so weary with sudden despair, a tiny cry escaped past your lips as your legs gave out from underneath you. Toppling onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion, the tears were freely flowing down your cheeks. 

 Hyunjin was already crouching at your side, one arm wrapped around your waist. “Darling, what’s wrong-” He began, the worry seeping from his tone. 

 “It’s hurts, Hyunjin… like, a lot…” You managed to get out in between your sobs. Your vision was blurry from your tears, cheeks warm to the touch at the embarrassment of feeling others' eyes on you as they passed by on the street. 

 But not another word needed to be spoken, as you were soon being lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. And a moment later, he was gently placing you down on a nearby bench. 

 He was then crouching in front of your feet, gently grasping at your left foot and holding it out to him slowly. “Can I take a look at it, sweetheart?” He asked you with all of the tenderness in the world. The look in his eyes then- one of pure apprehension and heartache did something funny to your heart and only made you cry even harder. You nodded your head in silent approval. 

 Heart beating wildly inside your chest, you waited, and watched in bated since, as your boyfriend gingerly slipped off your thin sneaker. With thin, nimble fingers, he slid your baby-blue sock down and off of your foot. 

 And the moment he saw what lay underneath, he gasped audibly. Your foot was steadily turning purple and blue and was swollen all around the ankle. Eyes completely focused on your foot, Hyunjin turned your foot from either side, inspecting it diligently. 

 Finally, after what felt like an eternity of looking at it, he stared up at you with wide eyes. The heartbreaking look in them told you all you needed to know- the way that his lips slightly fell open in his surprise, jaw clenching in anger. “B-Baby, has it looked like this since you got home from the gym on Friday?” His fingers gently swept over the bone that was slightly protruding out to the side near your ankle. 

 The tears had begun to slow down, leaving wet trails down either of your heated cheeks. Sniffling, you meekly nodded your head yes in answer. “Why? Is it that bad?” 

 A deep crease formed between his dark brows, and his blush-pink hair blew in the cool February breeze that suddenly swept across the streets at that moment. “Sweetheart, this looks really- really bad,” his eyes flitted down to your foot again, which he was still holding in one of his palms. “I’ve seen a lot of injuries, and I know the signs… honey, I think you’ve sprained it.” 

 Your heart plummeted into the pit of your stomach. “W-What? But… how could that be? It’s not like I-” Your voice took on an incredulous tone, but before you could say anything else, your boyfriend was moving your foot again, turning it slightly so that he could slip your sock back on. You hissed in discomfort, biting down hard on your bottom lip to quell the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you just then. The pain was unbearable. 

 Your boyfriend stood up from the ground, fitting two hands around your waist and helping you rise from the bench. He slipped an arm around your hips, securing you to his side as you slowly began to shuffle down the street, going backward from the way you had just come from. “C’mon, we gotta get you to the hospital.” He said, leading you two away from the shops that you had been at for the last few hours. 

 “Hospital? No- that’s not necessary, I just need to… rest at home, that’s all…” Your voice trailed off as another wave of pain throbbed through your tender foot. 

 Hyunjin leveled you with a glare. “It’s either you come with me willingly, or I carry you in my arms bridal style. Either way, you’re fucking going to the hospital.” The way he said the last of his words in that deathly-low tone sent a chill down your spine. Because you knew it all too well since he’d only use it on you when you were being particularly stubborn. And almost always, it was during a time when you weren’t taking any regard for your health, and Hyunjin had to force you to do the things necessary to practically stay alive. 

 “O-Okay…” You whispered. You struggled along beside him, fingers holding on tight to his thick brown winter jacket. “Just… don’t let go?” You stared up at him with big eyes, lip quivering a little bit from the pain of having to walk and put pressure on your bruised foot. 

 “Never, sweetheart.” He brought you closer to him then, practically wrapping both arms around your waist and helping you along the sidewalk as you slowly made your way back to his car. 

 “Well, you have a sprained ankle,” the nurse told you a few hours later. She was a rather short, petite-looking woman, with long, black hair swept up into a tight braid at the back of her head. “You’ll need to diligently rest for the next… four to six weeks. The doctor suggested using an ice pack for twenty minutes a few times a day, to help with the swelling.” 

 After you and Hyunjin had left Hongdae, it was only a matter of time before he found the nearest hospital and checked you into the Emergency Room there. After waiting for a little over an hour, you were finally called back into one of the exam rooms. It merely took the nurse and doctor one look at your ankle to confirm that it was sprained. After the doctor’s assessment, the nurse filed back into the room to hand you some paperwork to fill out. 

 During the entire visit, Hyunjin was sitting beside your hospital bed in a small chair, clutching onto your hand as you awaited the news of your diagnosis. He let out a sigh of relief at the news of it only being a sprain since he had been worrying that it was broken instead. 

 “And don’t walk on it,” the nurse continued, as she handed you a bottle of prescribed high-dosage pain medications. “I understand that it will be difficult to assimilate to a less active lifestyle for some time, but please remember that if you walk on it, doing so can put you at risk for horrible complications in the future and hinder you from achieving a full recovery.” 

 “I understand, thank you so much,” you said, giving her a soft smile as you fit the bottle of pain meds into your nearby purse. Your boyfriend was still clutching onto your hand, fingers squeezing a little too tightly as you positioned yourself back on the bed. 

 "I’ll give you two a few minutes, and then come back to assist you in checking out at the front desk.” The nurse returned your smile and bowed slightly at you and Hyunjin before making her way out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. 

 Immediately, your boyfriend turned to you with a deep frown. “And you’ve been walking on a sprained ankle for the past… three days.” He shook his head in disapproval, running a frantic hand through your hair. “Honestly, Y/N, I don’t understand why you do this to yourself- why you do it to me…” 

 Training your focus down at your lap, your fingers absently played with a loose strand from your thick winter sweater. “It’s not like I mean to not tell you stuff. It just… happens.” 

 “And you said you got this from lifting weights at the gym?” 

 His question forced your head to shoot up without you even thinking about it, eyes locking with his as he sat just beside you in his tiny vinyl chair. “Y-Yeah… I must’ve used the barbell wrong or something.” You laughed a little anxiously, heart beating painfully against your ribcage. 

 Because he couldn’t find out. It was downright embarrassing to think about him knowing you had been taking dance classes. But you also wanted to keep it a surprise for him, when you eventually performed your routine for him - not like that would happen anytime soon though, since you would be on bed rest for the foreseeable future. 

 Hyunjin brought his hand away from yours then, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly, crossing his legs together and giving you a knowing look. “I call bullshit. You don’t get a strained ankle from lifting a few pounds.” 

 “And how do you know that, mister?” 

 “Because I’ve seen the guys get injured from lifting before, but it never has to do with their ankles.” 

 “Well, maybe I’m the exception.” 

 “Cut the crap, sweetheart,” his voice came out a little cold just then, eyes raking over your form, studying your face to gauge your emotions at that moment. “Tell me what happened on Friday night.” 

 The embarrassment overtook you again, and you ripped your eyes from his. Focusing once more on your hands, you twisted the end of your sweater around your fingers. There wasn’t any use in keeping the ruse up any longer. It’s not like you’d be dancing the routine any time soon. So, you finally gave in and confessed to your boyfriend in a quiet mumble. 

 He leaned forward, tilting his body close to yours so that he could hear you better. “I didn’t hear that, love. Speak up.” 

 Clenching your fists in sudden annoyance, you stared at him, already feeling the crimson pooling in your cheeks. “I said- I was taking a dance class, okay?! And I fell and hurt my ankle- the instructor said it would be fine, but obviously, she isn’t a doctor…” 

 Silence filled the entire room after that, and it was charged with equal amounts of confusion and hurt. “Why in the world are you taking a dance class?” 

 “Because- I want to be good at dancing…” You exclaimed, staring into Hyunjin's eyes with what you hoped was a fierce expression. “I fucking suck at it- and- and you’re just so amazing, and I… I wanted to surprise you with a routine that I had learned all on my own. But then, I hurt myself, so that’s never gonna happen now.” 

 “Don’t say that.” 

 “Say what?” You canted your head to the side, watching as the emotions erupted across your boyfriend's face. First, it was anger, that you had kept such a secret from him for so long, then it was sadness, that you had felt the need to prove yourself in any way to him. 

 “Say that you suck at dancing,” he began, as he moved forward and clasped either of your hands in his. He brought them close to his mouth, lips hovering near your skin and pressing a few soft kisses to your knuckles. “You’re great at it, baby, don’t doubt yourself. And I was never amazing right off the bat. It took me a long time and lots of hard work to get where I am today.”

 “Yeah, but some people are just naturally born with it, and I don’t think I am. So… that’s why I was trying to improve.” You shrugged slowly, a zap of energy coursing through your veins each time Hyunjin pressed a fervent kiss against your hands. 

 “Well, I always think that improvement is good. But, there has to be a balance. You can’t simply ignore your health just because you want to get better at something.” Your boyfriend said in a calm voice, the warmth of it vibrating on your flesh and softening some hard part inside of you. “And besides, even if you weren’t born with the gift of dance - which I don’t believe to be true - there are still other gifts that you have that are unique and wonderful to you, baby. You shouldn’t compare yourself to me, or anyone else, for that matter.” 

 You gave him a frown, eyes locked on his mouth that kept nearing your knuckles and pressing kisses there. “I know, but… it’s just hard sometimes, you know? To be dating such a… talented man.” 

 A tiny sound of pain - of heartbreak - fled from Hyunjin’s mouth then, and suddenly, he was pulling you towards him. Fitting his arms around your waist, he squeezed on tight. In an instant, you melted into the touch, burrowing yourself into the crook of his neck and inhaling his calming, sweet scent. 

 “I’m so sorry that you’ve felt like this, sweetheart. I had no idea.” He mumbled close to your ear, imprinting a soft kiss against the exposed skin there. “How can I make it up to you, darling? How can I change things, so that you don’t think so poorly of yourself anymore?” 

 You positioned yourself away from him a tiny bit, offering him a light smile, “Babe, you don’t have to do anything for me. My low self-esteem when it comes to dancing isn’t your fault, so don’t worry about it.” 

 He leaned in, kissing your lips gently. “Yes, but I don’t like the thought of you feeling so down about your abilities…” his voice trailed off into silence, as he contemplated what he could do for you. “I know- I’m going to nurse you back to health, and when your ankle is completely healed, I’ll help you continue learning that dance routine from your class. How does that sound, love?” 

 You kissed him back, hot breaths mingling slightly in the passion of the moment. “I’d like that very much, but… don’t you have your schedules?” 

 Hyunjin waved a nonchalant hand in the air like he didn’t have so many people expecting high standards from him every single day. “I can still help you and do my job, baby- it isn’t rocket science.” 

 You contemplated his idea over in your head. You hadn’t liked him trying to teach you different dances in the past, but perhaps that was because of your issues and not because of his teaching. And now that your struggles with the thing were out in the open, you got the feeling that your boyfriend would be extra careful when teaching you - treat you extra gently when explaining certain moves. 

 “Okay, I like the idea,” you decided, nodding your head slowly in approval. A wide smile cracked across your lips as you stared at his face that was alight with happiness and contentment, “When do we start?” 

 “How does eight weeks from now sound? To give your ankle plenty of time to heal.” 

 Gently carding a few fingers through his light, peachy-pink silky locks, you bent into him, the smile still plastered onto your face as you gave his mouth another kiss which felt like the hundredth one in the last hour. “Sounds perfect.” You said, and soon he was smirking against your lips, before tightening his grip around your hips, yanking you ever closer to his form, and smashing his mouth against yours in a fiery, loving kiss. 

 Fin. 

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© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[ballerinainskzville]

Pierced - Hyunjin one shot

Summary: Hyunjin got his tongue pierced (again)

“Open up your mouth and show me” You wrapped your arms around Hyunjin’s waist. His arms circled around yours in return as he let out an amused chuckle.

“And I thought I was the one with the dirty mouth, huh” he teased, his hands sliding further down to cup your ass. You couldn’t help but laugh. “I need to see it, Jinnie!”

His eyebrow raised up in a cocky expression, he stood still. Watching you.

“Beg for it”, he then said, his hands still circling the back pockets of your trousers, pressing you closer to him.

“You’re making me beg for it?” you repeated his words as you looked up at his face. One of your hands playing with his hair. Making him melt under your touch, his eyes fluttering in response.

“Hmmm”, he mused, trying to stand his ground with you, which he had no chance in. You had Hyunjin wrapped around your finger since the day he confessed his love for you. “How about I show you my newest set when you show me your piercing?” you suggested instead, knowing that he would instantly give in to the idea. His eyes momentarily lit up before they slightly darkened, arousal evident in his gaze. He watched you over before pushing you up, and your legs circled around his waist in support. With another hum, he opened up his mouth, the silver piercing evident in his tongue.

Hyunjin had been playing around with the idea of getting his tongue pierced again, which you had supported ever since he voiced out the desire to get the piercing back. He had taken it out before debut, but photos and videos from his time as a trainee were proof of how hot he had looked with the accessory.

His tongue flicked, and you leaned in to capture his lips in desire. You could feel Hyunjin’s plump lips lift on a grin before he kissed you back as he pressed you against the wall. “It’s really hot”, you mumbled into the kiss before letting out a breathless moan. “Let me show you how much hotter it can make you feel” he gently bit into your lower lip, asking for permission to enter.

[softstraykidshours]

stray kids fic-mas: day 11

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff

summary: hyunjin invites you to christmas dinner with the boys, and it's a little chaotic.

length: 1.7k

warnings: slight food mention, christmas mention

ficmas 2022 masterlist

"hey, everybody!" you say cheerfully as you and hyunjin come through the door, slipping off your snow covered coats and boots. 

“hey, guys!” chan greets you both with a big hug before taking your coats and adding them to the pile haphazardly thrown over a chair. 

“sorry we’re late, i had to have jinnie swing back by my place on the way here, i completely forgot something."

“oh no, you’re totally fine! there’s still at least thirty minutes until minho’s done with the dinner, so you’re basically still early. seungmin’s making drinks in the kitchen, and felix is setting up the switch so feel free to do whatever," chan turns to join the rest of the guys in the living room only to be tackled over the back of the couch by changbin. you and hyunjin share a look and immediately head in the opposite direction towards the kitchen.

“hey, minho! seungmin!” you yell. minho raises a hand in greeting without turning around, focused intently on whatever he’s cooking at the stove. seungmin dries his hands on a towel before crossing the room and pulling you in for a hug.

“i’m so glad you made it! when hyunjin said you might not be able to, i may or may not have considered cancelling myself. there’s no way i was going to be able to handle all this testosterone in such a small space without some sort of backup.”

“oh don’t worry, i’m here and ready to help harass whoever needs it.” hyunjin shoots you a pouty look and you wrap your arms around his waist. “not you of course, loves, i would never dream of harassing you,” you throw seungmin a wink, and you both let out a laugh while hyunjin exaggerates his fake pout. you give him a quick kiss on the shoulder before heading across the kitchen to lean on the counter next to minho.

he has his sleeves rolled up and an apron on while he works, stirring and flipping things in no less than three pans. “whatever you’re making, it smells absolutely delicious.”

“you can count on that,” he states, a confident smirk on his face. 

“oh and min, by the way, i have something for you. well, it’s not exactly for you,” you clarify when he raises his eyebrows in question. “it’s for the cats. i may have found the cutest little pet antlers and just had to get them all matching ones.”

“wait, really?” minho immediately sets down his spatula and turns towards you, excitement alight in his eyes. “i want to see!” you grab the bag you set on the counter and pull out the little antlers, smiling when you see how ecstatic he is. “these are adorable! they're going to look so cute! thank you!” he wraps an arm around your shoulder and gives you a quick hug before turning back to the stove to continue stirring the food.

“of course! the second i saw them i knew i couldn’t just pass them up. i do, however, fully expect pictures of all my nieces looking like festive little reindeer though.”

“you got it. i wouldn’t dream of denying you their little sweet faces.”

you turn towards seungmin when you hear him call your name from the other side of the kitchen. “do you want a drink? i’m making holiday mocktails and cocktails.”

“oooh, yes please! that sounds delicious, i’ll take anything with cranberry in it.”

“okay! i can bring it out to the living room when i’m done if you want to go hang out with the rest of the guys,” it’s just then that you truly realize no one else is in the kitchen besides seungmin and minho. 

you look around for hyunjin and eventually find him leaning on a wall in the living room. he's laughing while watching jisung count how many marshmallows from his hot cocoa jeongin can fit in his mouth at the same time. “hey jinnie, is anyone going to help minho or...is he just going to make all the food for all of us?”

“i mean you can try and help if you want, but we all know better than to get in the way of minho and his cooking. the only one besides you who has even really set foot in that kitchen today is felix, and that’s just because he was making brownies.”

“felix made his brownies?! oh heck yeah! but wait, you’re telling me minho doing all of the cooking himself?" hyunjin nods in confirmation, and you look back over your shoulder at minho working. "and not only that, but he's doing it in his dorm, which means he also has to do all the cleaning. you all are just mean.”

hyunjin chuckles at your indignation before wrapping his arms around you to pull you to his side. “don’t worry we’ll help him clean up. well, at least some of us will,” he says, shooting a pointed look to where changbin and chan are still wrestling and to where jeongin is starting to choke on his tenth marshmallow. “plus, it's definitely for the best we did it here instead of my dorm. with those idiots around, i think we have a blender and maybe one good pan in our entire place. we don't even have four full sets of silverware. so, unless you want to be eating ramen with your hands as your christmas dinner, this is the best option for everyone.”

"hold up, rewind. did you just say you don't have enough silverware for all of you?”

hyunjin turns to meet your eyes, and you have to stifle a laugh at the haunted expression on his face. "don't even get me started. why do you think we never have dinner at my place?"

you can't help the choked giggle that leaves you over how horrified he is about the whole situation.

"hey! who's playing?" felix hollers from the living room.

"we are!" you shout back as the horrified expression on hyunjin's face somehow gets more dramatic. 

"i'm not sure who this 'we' is you're referring to, but i know for a fact that my sweet, adorable, loving partner who knows everything about me isn't suggesting that i want to play super smash bros." 

"oh come on, drama queen," you manage to say between laughs, grabbing his arm to drag him to the living room. "i didn't mean that you were actually going to play, just that you're going to come hang out and watch me absolutely destroy felix." 

"oh those are some fighting words right there, you're on!" felix shoots back, tossing you a remote before starting the game. 

you do in fact beat felix within an inch of his life in almost every round, only losing once to jisung. felix shouts and protests the entire time, changbin and jisung piping in every now and again until the living room is filled only with the loud, loving sounds of trash talk. 

"hey, when’s the food going to be ready?" changbin asks for the tenth time after you finish your most recent round. 

“it’ll be ready when i’m done!” minho hollers back for the tenth time from the kitchen.

“but i’m hungry!” changbin whines, dramatically flopping backwards onto the couch.

“you’re always hungry. don’t you have a raw chicken breast to gnaw on or something while you wait?” seungmin taunts before quickly dodging the pillow changbin throws at him.

“everybody just chill, dinner will be ready soon," chan enters the room and intervenes at the perfect time, hands on his hips while he stands in the doorway, full dad mode activated. "how about you come help me set up the tables for dinner.”

"okay!" you quickly agree, standing up from the couch, but halting when you feel hyunjin's hand on your arm.

“loves, is it okay if i go take some pictures of the snow falling out the window. i want to use them as references for some winter paintings i’ve been thinking about,” hyunjn whispers quietly to you, wanting to help, but also wanting to snap some photos before the weather changes. 

“of course,” you reply, leaning over to kiss his cheek. “i’ll make jisung help me.”

“wait, why me?” he protests. “you should make someone else do it. i don’t even know how to set up a table, so if you want it to be good, you definitely don’t want me helping.”

you roll your eyes as his poor attempt to avoid work and grab his arm to drag him off the couch.

“oh come on, you’ll do just fine. seungmin! you want to help too?” you call out over your shoulder.

“sure,” he jumps up from his chair and starts following you, but pauses when jeongin comes down the hallway from his room and yells at him.

“seungmin! come help me take pictures of my christmas ootd! i don’t trust any of these fools to get the right angle.”

“oh! sorry, can’t help, duty calls,” seungmin immediately changes gears and starts moving around the room, looking for the best lighting to take pictures in, occasionally interrupting changbin and felix’s game to make them move, so they aren’t in the shot. 

once the tables are set up, you all return to the living room to watch the end of the super smash bros round. everyone ends up cramming onto the same couch, most of them squished together on the seat, while you and hyunjin opt for sitting on the top. jeongin decides the best place to lay is across everyone’s lap, causing a whole slew of jokes from jisung and protests from changbin and felix. the whole situation is completely ridiculous, and you have to wipe tears from your eyes as you laugh harder than you have in a long time.

“dinner’s ready!” minho shouts from the kitchen a few minutes later as he places the last dish on the table. everyone immediately shoots ups from the couch and rushes into the kitchen, shouting at each other as they scramble to get a seat.

the fold up tables you pushed together to make enough space for everyone just barely fit in the room, but it’s still perfect. hyunjin places a soft kiss to your temple, before scooting in next to you and squeezing your hand. a smile crosses your face when you look around at the rowdy group of friends all crammed together and realize this just might be the best christmas ever.

[cherryeol04]

Bus Boy

➻ Pairings: Hyunjin x Reader

➻ Genre: Humor, fluff

➻ Additional: Attraction at first sight

➻ Word Count: 1.1k

➻ Warnings: N/A

➻ Author’s notes: This story is cross posted on multiple sites under the same username!

When it came to restaurants, you trusted Seungmin with finding decent places. You’ve never had the greatest luck when picking spots to eat at - the horrible food poisoning still haunting your dreams - so you passed that duty onto your best friend. He just seemed to have this weird luck surrounding him, that no matter where you ate, the food was always amazing, the service was exceptional and it was always reasonably priced. 

So when he took you to some hole in the wall near the local university, you didn’t even bat an eye. For a Saturday afternoon, the place was bustling and after a 20 minute wait, the hostess was finally able to seat the two of you, leaving you with the promise of a server coming around soon. 

Soon came and went rather quickly. You were absorbed in the menu, trying to determine what exactly you were in the mood for when Seungmin sighed heavily and closed his menu. Looking up, you raised your brow. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ve been sitting here for fifteen minutes and no one has come by.” He muttered, scanning the overly crowded restaurant. Staff was running about and if you remembered correctly, there had been at least 5 servers walking past your table since you sat down. Turning in your seat, you also looked around, eyes following one server and then another, trying to will them to come over and actually serve you. 

Unfortunately, you have yet to master telepathy. 

“Excuse me!” Your head whipped around, watching as Seungmin waved down a gorgeous redhead. He was tall, lean and looked like he could be a model. So why the hell was he working here? 

“Yes? How can I help you?” You told yourself not to swoon, but it was just out of your control. He was so handsome. 

“Yeah, we’ve been sitting here for a while waiting for someone to take our order.”

“Oh! I’m sorry. I can go see if I can find your server.” He said quickly, glancing over his shoulder briefly. 

“Can’t you just do it?” Seungmin asked, raising a brow.

“Uh…well…” 

“Well what?”

“I’m actually just a bus boy…” he trailed off and you wanted to scoff. He was a bus boy? That was a travesty. 

“Okay, but can’t you take our order and give it to our server or something? Do we even have one?” Seungmin requested and you could tell he was getting frustrated with every passing second. You couldn’t blame him. If you had been paying more attention to the time, you probably would have been upset too. It was probably best that you were keeping a level head though. 

“I - sure.” He seemed resigned, and you almost felt bad for him. “What can I get you?” 

Seungmin looked a bit shocked that the other was actually going to take your orders. He glanced at you and you nodded back at him. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his seat. “Thank you.”

Seungmin let you order first, and afterwards gave his own. The beautiful bus boy, bless his soul, repeated the order twice to try and memorize it. He scurried away, practically prancing. It was cute, he was cute. 

“Ahhh. I see.”

“You see what?” You eyed him suspiciously, doing your best to not blush because you know you’ve been caught red handed. Seungmin’s knowing smirk was all you got in return and you actively chose to ignore it. 

When your drinks arrived, they were delivered by someone else who apologized for not serving them quicker. You were sad that it wasn’t the bus boy coming back to serve you, but it only made sense. Being a server wasn’t his job. If Seungmin noticed how disheartened you were to finally have a server, he chose not to comment on it and you were thankful for that.

The food arrived shortly after you got your drinks and while it wasn’t horrible, it wasn’t good either. Though you chalked it up to just being in a ‘bleh’ type of mood now. Occasionally your eyes would scan the area around you, searching for the bright, fire engine red hair in hopes of just catching another glimpse of the beautiful bus boy. The universe wasn’t on your side.

Finishing up, you insisted on paying and while you filled out the tip on the receipt, Seungmin excused himself to the restroom. Your mind was still on the red head that had captured your heart in the short five minutes you had encountered him. You were complete strangers, yet there was just something about him that drew you into him. And perhaps that’s the reason why you decided to write your phone number on a napkin, addressing it to the ‘Red Headed Bus Boy’. The message was short and sweet and as you slipped it under your empty plate, you didn’t dare get your hopes up. The likelihood that the man would actually bus your table and see the napkin and text you was very slim. 

Putting your wallet away, you slipped out of the booth, meeting up with Seungmin by the front door to leave. You chatted about the restaurant and the food you had consumed, both coming to an agreement that it wasn’t a terrible place, but next time you would try to go at a different time - when it wasn’t too crowded so you could have better service.  The rest of the day was pretty uneventful in your eyes, and by the time you got home, your social battery was completely depleted so you were more than thankful to throw yourself on your bed and just relax. You loved Seungmin to death but nothing could beat a quiet day at home. You were drifting off to sleep when your phone pinged, a groan leaving you. 

“Come on man.” You muttered to yourself as you reached into your pocket and pulled the offending device free and stared at the screen. You had expected to see a text from Seungmin, but what greeted you was an unknown number. Curiously, you unlocked your phone and pulled up the message.

Unknown 

Hi, this Hyunjin

Or, red headed bus boy 😂

Short, sweet, to the point, much like your message had been to him. It was also sort of awkward, but that was to be expected. It wasn’t everyday that you left your number for someone just because you thought they were handsome. You wondered if it was a regular occurrence for Hyunjin though. He was extremely good looking, you wouldn’t be surprised if men and women alike threw themselves at him. 

It took you a hot second to try and formulate a response and after writing and deleting four different messages, you finally settled on letting him know your name and that you would very much like to get to know him. Your sentiments were eagerly returned and somehow you had a date tomorrow afternoon. It was interesting how a seemingly innocuous day led to a date with a man that if at the very least, you could be friends with. You were excited to see what the future held.

[forlix]

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

— volleyball superstar and your personal hell hwang hyunjin proposes a trade-off you can't refuse: his matchmaking services for a passing anthropology grade. the plan is foolproof in theory; in practice, it is something else entirely.

words・15.2k

pairing・volleyball player!hyunjin x tutor!reader (gn)

genres・college!au, sports!au, fake enemies to friends to lovers, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn. two polar opposites sharing one soul. a seungjin fic if u squint. loosely inspired by the manga/anime haikyuu!!

warnings・mentions of anxiety, fear of failure, heartbreak, loneliness, and self-image. course language and callous banter (as always) ft. suggestive flirting and one kms joke. some of the referenced players and coaches are real; this fic is not.

playlist・collision by stray kids・value by ado・waiting for us by stray kids・eternity by bang chan・dreaming by smallpools・fly high!! by burnout syndromes

a/n・writing this felt like returning to my roots tbh. i love volleyball and i love sports aus and i love, love hwang hyunjin. thank u to my sahar for bringing this fic to life with me, as always; i can no longer write for him without also writing for you. i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i adored writing it. happy late birthday, our jinnie, our hyunjin, our forever ace; you are so unbelievably loved ♡

“Not a word out of you,” you say, tossing your backpack onto the floor of the lecture hall with a heavy-handed flick. “I’m serious.”

Hyunjin glances up at you with a frown. “When did people stop saying good morning?”

Your lack of an immediate comeback tells him the situation is dire. He observes you for a moment, his mouth falling open, hanging still, then curving into a slow, serpentine smile.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

Hyunjin slumps back into his seat, thinking hard. The solution occurs to him with a poke of his tongue into his cheek. “Coffee on me for a week.”

At this, your hands stop rummaging in your bag. You cock your head, your interest piqued. Got you. 

When you finally humor him and turn around, you’re flinching like you’re in pain, eyes closed and breath held and all. He giggles and leans in for a closer look. Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes if he wasn’t so flummoxed by the state of your forehead.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Tried to cut my own bangs,” you sigh. “It didn’t go very well and now I look like Rock Lee.”

Hyunjin lets out a forceful laugh. “You’ve seen Naruto?”

You open your eyes. Only then does Hyunjin remember how little distance he left between your faces, when he’s staring straight into them and all the strange, starry speckles they hold.

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

Things are awkward between you often, he’s realized recently. What’s more, he didn’t think he was capable of being awkward with anyone anymore until he met you. It was your ill-fated seat that he chose to sit next to on the first day of ANTH 111, your ill-fated lap onto which he chose to spill his Americano, and the rest was history (or, in this case, anthropology). His tongue ends up in sailor’s knots with every smart-aleck comment and pitiful laugh you’ve given him since. Maybe there’s more to it, maybe there isn’t—Hyunjin doesn’t think about it much. He doesn’t like thinking in general.

You pull away from each other in unison. You clear your throat, glancing elsewhere. 

“Of course I’ve seen Naruto,” you quip, and everything is normal again. “Why do you seem surprised?”

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You go to a park to play chess with old people on weekends.”

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

“You didn’t know what Urban Dictionary was until I told you to look up—”

“God, I learned so much about you that day."

“Your favorite social media platform is Quizlet,” he bursts, exasperated. “Quizlet.”

“It is not.” An introspective pause. “Or is it?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Hyunjin throws his feet up on the chair below him, jabs in your direction with a bandaged finger. “There is no way you enjoy watching 2D men beat each other up in your free time. I don’t buy it.”

“Honestly, I thought you’d have more to say about my current appearance than my hobbies.”

He does, though. Matter of fact, he’s been curating a list since this conversation started: Vector from Despicable Me, Dora the Explorer’s hot older sibling, Spock. You face-planted into a lawnmower. You mistook a paper shredder for a hat. It goes on.

But then his head turns. Your eyes meet again. He’s reminded that it’s hard to sustain an inner monologue and look at you at the same time, Vector resemblance and all.

He reaches up, nudges a lock of your hair over a centimeter or so, and gives the patch of forehead a gentle flick.

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

You divert your attention to your lecture notes with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You’re getting soft.”

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

“I only get coffee from that one place on the east side of campus, by the way,” you say as you’re strolling out the building together, “and I get it a very specific way. Can you handle it?”

“Your faith gets me out of bed in the morning,” Hyunjin deadpans. “I’ll handle it, love. Text me your order.”

All of a sudden, you position your hands close to your stomach, the lapels of your jacket casting them in shadow. Your fingers begin to move in a sequence that he’d recognize anywhere.

“Body flicker jutsu,” you whisper, and then you’re scurrying off without another word—but you do glance back at him to gauge his response. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the main quad’s busy thrum.

Hyunjin gapes at your retreating figure for so long that phosphenes start prancing around his field of view. Then he heads to the gym. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Hyunjin stops lacing up his shoes to see Coach Bang standing on the court’s sideline with a grim air about him. He glances at his captain, confused.

“Don’t look at me,” Minho says mid-stretch. “Godspeed.”

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. It’s all fluorescent lights and spotless white walls, the only decorative fixture a picture of his siblings, parents, and dog in front of the Sydney Opera House, framed and facing him atop his desk. Hyunjin once snuck the thing into the bathroom, an innocent plot to satiate his curiosity, and promptly discovered the man’s propensity for violence. He’s packing beneath those dry-cleaned polos, by the way.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “You can read, right?”

“Yes, coach,” he sighs. Everyone’s expectations for him are subterranean.

From: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Not good See email from Hwang’s antopology professor below . He submitted the complete script of the Trolls movie instead of his mid term paper and now he’s failing the class . Not good . Sort out ASAP JP Sent from my iPad

Bang snatches up his mouse and scrolls, his ears turning scarlet. “Wrong email.”

“Yep.”

From: Kim Kyeyoung «kyeyoungkim@snu.edu» To: Park Jinyoung «asiansoul_jyp@snu.edu» Subject: Regarding Hwang Hyunjin To Director of Athletics Park, I am writing to inform you that, as of yesterday, Mr. Hwang Hyunjin has a D- (64.9%) in ANTH 111: Cultural Anthropology, due to his submission of the complete script of a kids’ movie instead of his midterm paper. It is disappointing to see Mr. Hwang trivialize and ridicule my class to such a degree. Please see to it that he reorganizes his priorities lest his Student-Athlete Participation Agreement do so for him. Regards, Kim Kyeyoung Professor of Anthropology

“That’s bullshit!”

“We’re in agreement there.” Bang folds his arms over his chest, throws his foot over his knee. “Do you know what your Student-Athlete Participation Agreement says?”

“Does anyone?” Hyunjin scoffs. Bang whips out a form and brings it to eye level, the thing covered from top to bottom in microscopic Times New Roman. “No way you just had that.”

“I had it delivered ten minutes ago,” Bang confesses, then clears his throat and begins to recite. “All student-athletes must complete the academic term with a C or higher in all courses, should they wish to continue their participation in athletics thereafter.”

Hyunjin stiffens. “What the fuck? I’ve never heard—”

“If any Department of Athletics personnel,” Bang continues, raising his voice, “have reason to believe that a student-athlete will not be able to satisfy this requirement, they are encouraged to utilize resources such as academic advising or peer tutoring in guiding said student-athlete back onto the correct path.”

He shoves the piece of paper across his desk. “Read that name aloud for me.”

Hyunjin stares at the signature at the bottom of the page, scrawled so carelessly that most of it deviates away from its designated line. There is a rare hollowness in his chest that he recognizes as anxiety. With it comes a glimpse of a life without volleyball, the question of what little of him would remain.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

The office goes silent. Bang tucks the form back into his drawer. It closes with a gentle click.

Then comes the yelling.

“The Trolls movie? Trolls?! Are you fucking with me, Hwang?”

“It was a cultural reset! The pinnacle of modern media! How’s that for anthropology?”

“BAD!” Bang explodes, gesturing to the email emphatically. “VERY, VERY BAD!”

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

“You’ve never had trouble with school before.” He leans over his desk imposingly. “What the hell happened this semester? What changed?”

Nothing is the first answer that comes to mind, but Hyunjin’s pulse spikes like a lie detector. Upon the inside of his eyes replays a scene of a certain someone with watermelon bangs doing teleportation jutsu at him from a few yards away, wearing a smile made of some kind of space dust that astronomists haven’t discovered yet.

He grits his teeth, annoyed. This is what happens when he thinks.

“Beats me,” he fibs. “Typical junior year stress, maybe.”

“Does any of it have to do with Piazza?” 

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

Modesty has no place in the career he’s had: high school national champion turned ace hitter in both the South Korean U21 roster and regular rotation for Seoul National University, the best collegiate volleyball team in the country. His name has lived at the top of ranking lists and the center of gold medals since he turned old enough to qualify for them; the press believes him the instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution. It’s a mouthful, he knows.

It was never a question that he would go professional; the question was who he should talk to and where he would go.

At the start of the school year, Bang, acting in place of the agent he was advised to find and never bothered to, gave him a list of people to reach out to. On the very top was none other than Roberto Piazza, the chairman and head coach of Allianz Milano, one of the most eminent club teams in the world—and current home to Hyunjin’s personal idol, outside hitter Ishikawa Yuki.

Hyunjin thought his poor coach had finally succumbed to his old age. The thought of stepping onto the same court as Ishikawa felt sacrilegious, let alone donning the red, white, and navy blue of Allianz Milano with him. But Bang slapped him on the back of the neck and reminded him that going professional was equal parts preparation and opportunity; he was never going to know the answers to questions he didn’t ask. Hyunjin was coerced to fire off an introductory email despite his reservations.

Piazza replied within the week.

For the last five months, Hyunjin has been fighting with tooth and nail to manage his expectations. He scrolls past the team’s social media posts like they burn his eyes. He replies to Piazza’s emails right before working out with Changbin under the assumption that whatever the shredded libero does to him will eviscerate his brain. If his world is made of dreams, this is the one at its very core, imbued with destructive potential the second it became attainable.

But that’s the last five months. The last five weeks have been you kicking him in the shin because he’s laughing (or trying to make you laugh) and the professor is staring; you listening to him rant and rave about volleyball when he knows you couldn’t care less about the sport; you relaying the contents of your class readings like hot gossip, your eyes wild and hands flying around because you can’t contain your excitement. You, you, you.

He cards a hand through his air, regaining focus. “You know how I feel about Piazza.”

“Expect the worst, hope for the best.” Bang’s chair skids backwards as he stands up. “I think it’s a good approach.”

Suddenly, he is directly in front of Hyunjin, low enough to meet his eyes. His hands rest upon his shoulders firmly.

“But hope is hungry, and it will consume you if you let it,” he says. “Do not let it, Hyunjin. I’m not asking.”

Even while being squeezed to a pulp and regarded with the cold intensity of a statue, Hyunjin can’t help but feel anchored, somehow, to the floor of this miserable office. Protected.

Bang lets go of him. “I’m not asking you to find a tutor by the end of the week, either.”

Hyunjin groans. “Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

A set of bandaged fingers appear in your periphery to place a paper cup onto your laptop. Accompanying the smell of fresh coffee is that of smoky rose, as decidedly douchey as ever.

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

You look up from your phone to see Hyunjin plop into the adjacent seat. His long, caramel-colored hair is damp and unstyled in the aftermath of a morning shower, droplets of water pearling on the lapels of a navy blue windbreaker, layered over a white long sleeve. You recognize the outfit by now as game gear.

“Was it not?” You ask.

“It was an Americano, love. I walked up to the cashier and placed an order for an Americano.”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you could handle that much.” He flips you off as you squint at the cup. “Someone wrote their number on the lid, by the way.”

“What? Really?”

“No.”

He shoves you hard enough for your upper body to drape over the opposite armrest; you’re still cackling by the time you’ve straightened up again.

“Why did you get this, anyway?” Hyunjin grumbles. “I thought you had a sweet tooth.”

“I do, but you don’t.”

Only then does the fool understand that you had no intention of charging him in coffee just for a haircut reveal. He takes back the coffee hesitantly.

“Thanks,” he says at last. “Nice of you.”

“I know, right? Hated it,” you respond, and he almost chokes on his first sip.

You almost choke on nothing when Kim Seungmin materializes in the aisle adjacent. He holds out a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “Yo.”

Hyunjin dabs it up mid-sip. “I fully forgot you were in this class.”

“Well, I’m due for my weekly appearance.” Seungmin slips into the seat directly below you, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you say, somehow managing to stumble over the single syllable the word has. You thank your lucky stars that you fixed your hair yesterday.

You like Kim Seungmin. Not just in the cutesy, crushy way, but in the “I would relinquish all of my rights for you” way where you spend every waking moment cursing out whatever stroke of misfortune placed Hyunjin in the seat next to you instead of him. He’s funny, gorgeous, and talented—a vocal performance major with a student-athlete contract—and you think your infatuation is more than justified. Hyunjin thinks it’s hilarious.

You side-eye your blonde adversary, prepared to see one of three things: a suppressed laugh, a dramatic eye-roll, or a mature kissy face that usually results in the first option. You’re met with something far more worrisome.

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

Suddenly, his phone screen lights up with a text that temporarily wipes the conspiratorial gleam from his eye. Hyunjin scans it over and groans. “Can this guy do his fucking job?”

“He wouldn’t have to if you didn’t quit,” Seungmin answers. “I’ll never forget you, Manager Hwang.”

“Shut up.” You peer at Hyunjin, silently requesting an explanation. “Our captain is forcing us to help him look for a new team manager. We need one for playoffs because of some stupid U-League rule—Seung, why do you look morose?”

“I’m mourning.” Seungmin does look morose indeed. “Hyunjin committed larceny last year and our coach punished him by making him our team manager for the rest of the season. It was so funny.”

Hyunjin slides down his seat. “It was the worst experience of my life.”

Neither man seems inclined to elaborate on the mention of larceny. You choose to digress. “Can I ask why?”

“He had to be responsible,” Seungmin whispers. “For other people.”

The top of Hyunjin’s head stops right next to your armrest. You reach over and pat his hair in faux sympathy. “Poor thing.”

“Hardass refused to do it again this year, so now we’re recruiting.” Seungmin props an elbow upon the back of his chair, looks at you contemplatively. “I don’t suppose you have four hours to spare every day.”

Hyunjin scoffs from below you. Loudly. “This one? Team manager?”

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

The next time you reach for him is to smack his forehead. A crisp smack resounds around the barren lecture hall, and Hyunjin cusses into his seat cushion.

“Seems like a great candidate to me,” Seungmin muses, and the warm smile he gives you mirrors onto your face before you can think better of it. God, it’s pretty. You wonder how it would feel pressed against your own.

Hyunjin is now completely out of sight and halfway onto the floor. “I miss when you didn’t come to class, Seungmin.”

Eighty minutes later, you’ve just emerged from the classroom when Seungmin calls out to you. You come to such a sudden halt that Hyunjin almost trips over you, but you barely notice him stumble, utterly enraptured by the hand Seungmin brings to the strands of hair by your ear, the fingers that dust your cheek as they pluck a small piece of lint from out of the tresses.

“Sorry.” He flicks it away with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t unsee it.”

You manage to thank him just before your whole body ceases to function. Hyunjin sidesteps the two of you, yawning.

Seungmin excuses himself not too long after you reach the main quad. You also turn to leave, sparing Hyunjin a curt farewell in the process. He hooks his pointer finger around the handle at the top of your backpack and lugs you backwards with infuriating ease.

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

“I don’t care. I have something to tell you.”

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

“The one-night-stand’s poster child. The champion of the contraception industry.”

“Yeah, contraception industry. It’s right there in the name.”

You can’t argue with that. “What do you have to tell me?”

A shadow of hesitation flits across Hyunjin’s face. Your smile falters. Is it possible that you’re about to have a serious conversation with him for the first time? Maybe you should’ve saved the secret son bit for another time.

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation. 

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.” The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair. “You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

“Just so we’re clear—you’re failing Introduction to Cultural Anthropology?”

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

This is the best day of your life. “I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“Yeah, well, our professor has no media literacy,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyways, I was thinking—”

“Wow! Congratulations. That’s a big—oomf—”

Hyunjin puts his entire hand over your face. Your mangled noises of protest go unacknowledged.

“I was thinking,” he continues, pushing your head around like a stick shift, “you and I can work out some kind of deal.”

You shove his wrist off you with a revolted groan. “I think I just ate some athletic tape.”

“Happens. You wanna hear the deal or not?”

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

“Alright.” He takes a deep breath. “If you help me pass this class, I’ll set you up with Seungmin.”

Your head performs a triple-axel on your neck. You are unable to respond for what feels like multiple hours. Finally: “I’m gonna need you to elaborate.”

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

Hyunjin sighs, then scans the courtyard. His gaze settles on the student union a little ways off. “Are you hungry?”

You pick up a sandwich and a smoothie in a state of nervous stupor. One would think it’s the prime minister you’re about to have lunch with and not an imbecilic left-side hitter eating from three different entrees at the same time.

He’s chosen a table a few yards away from a planter of flowering cherry blossom trees. You feel jealous eyes on the side of your face as you take a seat across from Hyunjin, but they don’t know that his telephone pole legs still bump against yours even with them drawn as close to your body as anatomically possible. Or that he’s drawing up a literal Ponzi scheme on your sandwich wrapper. You wager you’ve had better company.

“You like anthropology. I like listening to you talk about anthropology.” He traces over the wrapper’s left corner. “And I kinda want you to boss me around. That weird?”

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Go on.”

“Conclusion one: you should be my tutor.” He taps in place as if applying a finishing touch, then swaps to the opposite side. “You also like my teammate, but he’s neck-deep in volleyball and music this semester, which makes him hard to get a hold of—for most people.”

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw.” His British accent is nightmarish. “Seung and I live in the same building. We get dinner when we go back from practice together. Conclusion two: you should come with us.”

“To dinner or to practice?”

“To both. Which brings us to my third and final conclusion—”

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

“I knew it!” You slam the table as well, your smoothie wobbling upon impact. “You’re trying to swindle me! You can’t pay for my labor with more labor. What do you take me for?”

“It’s not labor, dumbass! Ask our last manager! He didn’t do shit!”

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

“I hate everything that isn’t playing volleyball. Try again.”

You fold your arms over your chest. “You said you’d kill yourself if I managed you.”

Hyunjin starts balling up your sandwich wrapper. “It’s true. I thought about you and my coach getting along and promptly got a rash. But it makes so much sense: you do whatever you want during practice, tutor me afterwards, and then you and Seung can eyefuck over ramen or something. My coach hops off my dick, you hop on Seung’s—”

“STOP!” A girl drops her receipt not too far away, startled by your outburst. “Stop right there. I get it. Stop.”

“It’s a good plan.” He slings the paper ball towards the nearest trash can. It drops into the hole without so much as a brush against the rim. “You know it is.”

You’re loath to admit that you do. “When did you even come up with all this?”

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class. No fucking wonder he’s failing.

“What is this, mock trial?”

The owner of this voice is the third man you’ve seen today donning that navy windbreaker, white long-sleeve combo. He has a face that reminds you of your neighbor’s cat from back home, sleek and sharp and only slightly sinister. There’s a dash of humor in his expression as he approaches your table like he’s enjoying the company of a court jester.

“Slamming tables like fuckin’ tariff lawyers,” the cat-man hums, lifting a hand in Hyunjin’s direction. “I could see it from all the way inside.”

“Captain!” Hyunjin crows, dabbing him up without missing a beat. They really do that like breathing. “Just the man I was hoping to see.”

“Really? I thought you’d be avoiding me like the rest of our homunculus team.”

“I would never.”

“You did. Yesterday. When you saw me and started running in the opposite direction.” He pauses for emphasis. “As fast as possible.”

“Well, that was yesterday. Today is a new day.” Hyunjin tosses you a proud glance. “And today, I bring you a new team manager.”

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

“Is that so!” When the stranger smiles at you, you feel the same satisfaction you did every time the cat let you scratch her on the chin. “Music to my ears. What’s your name, cutie?”

You catch Hyunjin’s eye across the table; he nods enthusiastically as if saying go on, then. You briefly picture yourself strangling him with his own athletic tape. You then picture yourself hopping on Seungmin’s—

Rigidly, you throw a hand out to the cat-man, your face aflame.

“Y/N,” you grumble. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

He shakes on it heartily. “Likewise. I’m Minho. Welcome to the team.”

“Yes, welcome to the team,” Hyunjin parrots, looking positively jolly. You gnash your teeth together so hard your jaw throbs.

He’s lucky that his proposal holds so much water. He’s lucky that you don’t plan to strangle him until after you try that eyefucking thing.

You do kick him under the table, though.

The team has five weeks to prepare for the Korean University League, the biggest college-level volleyball tournament in the country. You have five days to learn how the hell athletic tape works. You can’t tell which is the bigger endeavor.

“I’m going to cause him irreversible skeletal damage,” you tell Changbin.

The team’s libero is twice as kind as he is talented, a full-time sweetheart working part-time at the university’s sports medicine clinic. Only your first week on the job and you’ve already decided he’s the only person on Earth you would permit to usher you through the gym at 6:45 A.M., a roll of athletic tape pressed to your back like a pistol.

“You will not,” Changbin answers. “One, because this won’t involve his skeleton, and two, because I wouldn’t ask you to help if it did.”

“You’ve misunderstood me,” you return as the two of you stop in front of an examination room. “I want to cause him irreversible skeletal damage.”

“Oh.” He opens the door with a frown. “Oh dear.”

Inside, Hyunjin is sitting cross-legged on top of a taping table, fitted in a loose gray tee and athletic shorts. He watches in pessimistic silence as you enter the room and beeline straight towards the shelf on the right. You slip a thick binder into your hands and bury your nose inside it without so much as a greeting.

“I am going to get maimed,” Hyunjin tells Changbin.

“Have some faith, both of you,” Changbin replies sternly. You find the pages you’re looking for and begin poring over them like you’re cramming for an exam. “You’ll be fine, Jinnie. Y/N studied.”

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

“Three, to be exact," you interject, sticking out your hand. “Now tape me.”

Hyunjin mouths the words tape me in baffled silence. The latter obliges your request with a smile. “See? What could go wrong?”

The answer to that, actually, is a lot. Especially after Changbin gets called away to help stretch out a teammate named Felix who allegedly “sprained his ass,” leaving Hyunjin to you and your binder.

You detect no smoky rose in the air around him today, just the subtle smells of cedar and cypress—laundry detergent or shampoo, maybe. Figures he doesn’t wear that insufferable cologne to practice.

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

While Hyunjin’s tone is teasing, yours is downright somber.

“I can’t promise anything.”

With that, you turn your palms face-up in a silent request for his hand.

A few strands of hair fall into your face as you lean in for a better look. It’s the first time you’ve seen his fingers untaped; they’re pretty, long and slender and surprisingly manicured, but also battered in their delicacy, the veins running over the back of his hand and forearm prominent, his bottom knuckles discolored from the healing bruises they bear. His hard work is palpable upon the smooth skin as evidently as if tattooed.

Hyunjin says your name in close proximity. You respond with an absent hum.

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

“No. Maybe a little.” You let his hand fall free and go to rummage for supplies. “Fine, yes. Very.”

“But you made Quizlets. You’re prepared for anything.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You realize only after spotting the gentle smile on his face that he’s making fun of you. “I hate you.”

“Actually,” he hums, “I think you care about me, love. That’s why you’re nervous.”

“Nonsense—I care about disappointing Changbin. That’s it.”

“And me. And hopping on Seungmin’s dick. All these things don’t have to be mutually exclusive.”

You try to tackle him. Hyunjin catches your hands a few inches away from his face, fingers closing around your wrists with obnoxious agility.

“Have you lost your mind?” You whisper-shout, your face on fire. “Don’t bring that up here. I’ll maim you for real.”

The laugh that explodes out of him throws his entire body backwards, turns his eyes to crescent moons and his mouth into a little rectangle. You hate that you don’t hate when that happens.

“My bad, my bad. It slipped out. I won’t—”

One incremental shift of Hyunjin’s body later, you find that you’re precariously, alarmingly close to one another.

So much so that you notice the mole beneath his left eye for the first time, that you're nearly cross-eyed looking at it. That the tip of your nose actually brushes against his before you pull away with a quiet intake of breath. 

Things are awkward between you often, you’ve realized recently. You’re both professional yappers, always quick to digress, quick to find a new topic to bicker about before the awkwardness marinates. But hours later you’ll look back on the interaction and still remember how the air shifted: like a layer of dust had been blown away and something untouched and unknown was discovered just underneath.

Since you’ve met him, Hyunjin has spent more time on your nerves than on your mind. You’re not exactly losing sleep over such a circumstantial acquaintance; you know that his presence in your life will end the way it began, naturally and anticlimactically and inside the ANTH 111 lecture hall. Still, it doesn’t go unnoticed when your heart and stomach launch into an elaborate gymnastics routine in the wake of something he says or does, just as they’re doing now.

Hyunjin glances into your right eye a moment, then your left. The mole just below his left eye disappears when he smiles, the expression soft, saccharine, and sincere. How anyone casually looks the way he does is beyond your abilities of comprehension.

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

Your face continues to burn, now perhaps for different reasons. “What for?”

He lets go of your wrist, sweeps the lock of hair that keeps getting in your eyes behind the cuff of your ear.

“Caring about me.”

Then he flicks your forehead. You recoil with a quiet ow.

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

“Okay,” you mutter, rubbing the injury tenderly. “No need to get violent.”

It turns out the arduous taping procedure described in the instruction manual is for serious hand injuries. Hyunjin splints his fingers together for support, not rehabilitation, so it takes all of five minutes for him to talk you through his process. You finish taping both of his hands with nineteen minutes to spare. So maybe the Quizlets were overkill.

As you’re walking him down to practice, you take his hand and lift it to eye level, scanning your craftsmanship dubiously. “It’s not too tight, is it?”

“It’s perfect.” He swivels the hand around and grabs onto your entire face, the sensation by now eerily familiar. “Want another taste?”

You shove him down the stairs that remain. Unfortunately, there are only two. “You are truly grotesque.”

The gym has come to life since you arrived earlier this morning, now illuminated by shining ceiling lights in addition to the sun spilling through high, narrow windows. Most of the team has yet to step onto the court, still stretching or jogging along the sidelines: Minho and Coach Bang are talking strategy on the bench, the coach taking notes on a handheld whiteboard every now and then; Changbin is leaning over a recumbent Felix below the scoreboard, presumably trying to fix his ass.

The only one already with a ball in hand is Seungmin, setting to himself by the net. Once, twice, thrice straight up in the air, and then he glances in your direction and sends the fourth towards the left side of the court in a buoyant arc.

You only glean bits and pieces of the next few seconds. Hyunjin is at your side one moment, making a break for the net the next. His arms draw backwards in perfect synchrony. Feet hit the floor with laserlike intent. His entire body unravels like a fraying chrysalis as he rises to meet the ball, pounds it over the net and into the ground at an angle so clean that the sound of its landing resounds within your ribcage. It rebounds over the railing of the second floor and barely misses the doorway of the examination room you just emerged from.

Hyunjin drops lightly back onto his feet, following the ball’s tumultuous trajectory with proud eyes. A leftover breeze tosses a strand of hair over the bridge of your nose, and time starts moving again.

“Oi, this isn’t your backyard! Go pick that up!” Their coach booms, though his words lack their usual bitterness after what he just witnessed his ace hitter do.

Hyunjin swivels towards Seungmin first. “Crazy bitch. What the fuck was that?”

“Lower and faster. Further from the net too,” Seungmin returns. “How’d it feel?”

The grin on Hyunjin’s face reminds you of a wildfire, untamed and all-consuming and frightening in its fervor. “Like we just won everything.”

He tousles your hair as he jogs past you and back up the stairs to fetch the volleyball. Seungmin waves at you with one hand and palms another ball into his other. His face is warm and bare, his slim build flattered by his volleyball gear. You’ve witnessed few people so nice to look at and even fewer things as elegant as his setting form. But you are still thinking about Hyunjin—and you can’t move.

It is debilitating, watching somebody do the very thing they were destined for.

A little less than a week later, Hyunjin is approaching hour three of spewing hot garbage into a Word document when he decides to give up and call you. 

“Hello?” He immediately starts laughing. “Where the fuck are you?”

You poke the top of your head into the shot of your ceiling, gesturing to your headband. “My face is preoccupied at the moment.”

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

You flip your phone up for no more than half a second. A camera shutter goes off, followed by a shriek so loud that it peaks your mic.

“Motherfucker!”

He basically sprints to his camera roll. His prize: you with your face slathered in cleanser, hair pinned back by a Miffy headband, looking like the abominable snowman if he liked cute merchandise.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly. “I’ll treasure this forever.”

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

You brandish your middle finger at him in response. He props his phone up against his computer screen with a chuckle. 

“Aaanyways, I have a thesis statement to run by you.”

The first thing you did as Hyunjin’s tutor was help draft an email to Professor Kim, begging her to let him resubmit the two essays he royally botched. She replied with a lengthy quotation from her syllabus, specifically the section that talked about (and prohibited) resubmissions, but ended up making an exception for Hyunjin on account of the “truly piteous timbre” of his email. You fell out of your chair laughing when he read you her response.

“You should’ve opened with that.”

“I tried, hello? Someone distracted me!”

“Read. It. Before I change my mind.”

You spend a few minutes at most on the thesis itself, advising him to avoid passive voice, answer the prompt, establish a refutable argument, the works. Then he asks you a question about the research topic itself, allusions to the afterlife in Ancient Egyptian artwork, and the tutoring session takes a turn into what feels like a podcast episode.

You talk about the God of Death, Anubis, and his connections to the underworld; the elaborate, lavish funerary rituals intended to ensure the souls of the dead traveled safely; the vibrant murals that flanked their final resting spots as pictorial requests for divine protection. And you talk about them all with such confidence, such eloquence, that it’s as if you’re leading him through a history museum rather than talking to your phone as you do your skincare. He could listen to you for hours. He does, actually.

Around 1 A.M., Hyunjin stops typing mid-sentence when you come into frame for the first time, collapsing into your bed with a sigh of relief. Your eyes are soft and sleepy as they blink at your screen, strands of damp hair clinging to your cheeks. He feels his heart physically shift inside his ribcage when your mouth stretches into a yawn. It is the same sensation as the time you shot him a smile over your shoulder and he couldn’t move for ten minutes.

With that, his attention span has run its course.

“Baby,” he interrupts gently. “Let’s stop here, okay? You seem tired.”

You open your mouth as if to protest, only to yawn again.

“I suppose I am. Will you keep working tonight?”

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

“Text me if you have questions, then. I’ll respond when I wake up.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Your lips curve into the smallest of smiles. It copies onto Hyunjin’s face incurably quickly. 

“I had my doubts about this tutoring thing, you know.”

“Why is that?”

“Well, you told me this class was the closest thing to daily naptime you’d experienced since preschool.”

“It really is.”

“You also told me you would rather slam your tongue in a car door than read more than three sentences in one sitting.”

“I really would.”

“And you once referred to academia as ‘Virgin Village.’”

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

He grins. “I know. I just wanted to hear you admit it.”

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t think you would take this seriously, but I’m happy to be proven wrong.”

Hyunjin leans back. “Well, turns out I might give a fuck about anthropology after all.”

“Really?”

“No.”

You pretend to punch him through the screen. It’s so cute that he forgets to think before he opens his mouth next.

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

There’s nothing crazy about the statement. You’re friends, sort of. You manage his team. It would be strange if he didn’t. But the seconds that follow are terrible, a silent prophecy of something disastrous, like a cloud of rubble before an avalanche, the standstill during a star’s final breath. And Hyunjin’s heartbeat is hounding against his ears like a performance of traditional taiko.

He says good night in a haste. The call ends. He stares at the wall of his bedroom in a muddled haze for who knows how long.

Then he opens his texts.

Hyunjin: We have team bonding tomorrow btw Hyunjin: Don’t forget Y/N: i forgot. Y/N: pick me up at 6:45? Hyunjin: 🫡

He picks you up at 7:53.

You approach his car with your fists balled and your eyebrows knitted together like a mean old curmudgeon and he’s walking too close to your lawn.

“His fault,” Hyunjin says before you start yelling.

Minho simpers at you through his open window. “Hey, you! So glad you could join us!”

You fix the man with a judgmental glare as you slide into the backseat. “Aren’t you the captain? Why are you this late?”

“Whoa, okay. I would’ve scheduled this for earlier if I knew right now was honesty hour.”

“You did schedule it for earlier,” you say. “You scheduled it for way earlier.”

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

When you step through the doors of the arcade, you’re met with a surge of sensory input that you haven’t experienced in years. The air hangs thick with the smells of greasy concessions; everywhere you look are flashing screens and neon signs, stuffed animals and fading posters; clamoring against your ears are the sounds of games being won or lost, of balls being pocketed or launched, and of a horde of fully grown men spectating a match of Dance Dance Revolution so passionately (and loudly) that they’ve scared everyone away from that side of the room. You recognize the current competitors as Changbin and Jeongin.

“I’ll go pay,” Hyunjin says. “How much time do we want?”

“Infinity,” Minho answers. Hyunjin doesn’t move. “Two hours.”

He flashes him a thumbs-up. “And you?”

“I’m okay, I think.”

“No you’re not,” the two men answer in perfect unison.

You glance between them warily. “I don’t mind watching, seriously. I don’t even know how most of these games work—”

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

One would imagine the point of the evening is to break the SNU men’s volleyball team, not to bond them. You’ve never seen so many strained blood vessels in your life. Nor have you heard of half the insults they spew at each other as the night goes on. Felix has to pay a fee for lodging an air hockey puck in the side of the MarioKart machine. Changbin loses at skee-ball and has to down an XL slushie like it’s a shot. It’s a scary amount of boyishness expressed in scary ways.

But they’re happy. You’ve picked up on it when they’re on the court, noticed the raw elation they emanate just from playing together. Yet, their closeness has never been more evident to you than tonight. The men are either laughing or making someone else laugh, arms draped over each other at all times, equally happy to celebrate victories as they’re eager to punish losses. It dawns on you at some point that you’re glad to be here with them, grateful to be a part of something so special—especially because there’s Tetris.

“Have you ever considered going pro?” Hyunjin asks over your shoulder.

You waited until most of the team was distracted to slink off to your beloved machine. Hyunjin tagged along, undoubtedly with the intention of making fun of you, only to be rendered speechless by your mastery. He’s been watching in a state of stupor, forearms propped against the back of your chair.

You don’t respond for a while, too focused on a precarious patch to even blink, let alone partake in conversation.

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

“In middle school. Then I got bored and switched to backgammon.” You pause. “Then I got bored again and switched to chess.”

“How do you look like this with these hobbies?”

Your run ends a few minutes later with a somber sound effect. You turn around in your seat with an anguished groan. “I think I’m washed.”

He looks at you like you’ve lost your mind. “You just set a new record by three hundred thousand points.”

“It’s a small pond,” you say, and an idea occurs to you. “Do you wanna try?”

“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice.”

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

His eyes move between your shoes and your face, and then his voice is an inaudible mutter as he sinks into your seat. You think you hear something along the lines of unfair.

“What was that?”

“Ugly. I said you look ugly.” He cracks his knuckles. “Now let’s break some fuckin' blocks.” 

When Hyunjin learns that the pieces can be rotated (so six or seven attempts later), a man walks into the arcade. 

He has hair the color of dark chocolate, the face of a fairy prince—and he’s with someone. The two of them appear arm in arm, laughing at something he said. He looks at this person the way astronomers do to the sky.

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

Your hands loosen around the back of Hyunjin’s chair. You can’t watch. You can’t think. You can only feel a void of disappointment rip open, stretch over you like an elongating shadow.

“Seung!” That’s Jisung, you think. “You made it!”

“Yo, sorry we’re late.” That’s Seungmin. That is undoubtedly Seungmin. “Dinner took longer than I thought.”

“Min, are you sure I’m allowed to be here?” You don’t know who this voice belongs to and you’re not sure you want to. “I feel like I’m intruding—”

“Hwang,” you say suddenly. “I have to go.”

He turns around, confused. An unattended block falls into a terrible spot on the screen behind him. ”Already?”

“I forgot I had an important call to make.” You turn away, training your eyes on the patterned carpet. “Sorry. I’ll see you around.”

You have touched Hyunjin’s hands many times. He’s asked you to tape his fingers every day since the first; he likes the way you cut off his circulation, says it helps him hit harder. But you never hold his hand so much as you examine it, the act stiff and unfeeling, cordoned within the professional pretense of athletic treatment. 

Now, Hyunjin catches your hand like a gardener repotting their favorite flower: delicately, careful of leaving its roots intact and petals untouched, but firmly, securely, so the flower continues to stand tall even when it’s been extracted from the soil, not even a speck of dirt slipping through the cracks between their fingers. That is the image you conjure when he slips his between yours, his metal rings cold where his fingertips are warm.

He says your name. There is a pinch of pain in the word, and you know that he knows.

“Do you want to be alone?”

You have never been asked such a thing—you have never asked to be asked such a thing—but, for some reason, the question brings tears to your eyes. 

“Yes, please,” you whisper, and you pull your hand away.

When you stalk past him, you hear Jisung notice you, call out to you, a note of worry in his question. You also count three pairs of eyes on your back: one concerned, the next confused, and the last you are wholly incapable of meeting. 

Unknown to you is the fourth pair fixed upon the top of the Tetris machine, where you’ve left your phone.

You emerge into the parking lot. The frigid air stills your mind for a fraction of a second, the last moment of mental quietude you will allow yourself that night.

Hyunjin’s right; the team manager doesn’t have to do much.

Coach Bang allows you to come to whichever practices and games you feel like, during which you might at most lug around a ballbag or fill someone’s waterbottle before holing up somewhere to do your own thing. But you like the people you work for too much to do so little for them, so you attend everything  your schedule allows. 

Last week, you could be found helping Minho put up the volleyball nets before practice, your laughter echoing throughout the spacious gym as he complained to you about his biochemistry professor’s distinct “cabbage scent.” Or running to grab materials for Changbin as he treated his teammates’ injuries like you were assisting an orthodontist giving someone a root canal. The dinner invitations you extended to Seungmin were always turned down, but his teammates were more than happy to assist you and Hyunjin in your quest to establish the best kimbap joint in the area once and for all. You even had a heart-to-heart with Coach Bang during one of the team’s water breaks, in which you managed to get half a smile out of the guy; Hyunjin was convinced that was his way of asking you to elope. You spent more time in the gymnasium those ten days than you had your entire college career.

Then came the arcade.

Five days have come and gone. You haven’t attended practice since, but you still see Hyunjin every morning at anthropology. The two of you sit in uncharacteristic silence for most of the lectures. You’ve taken the best notes of your life. He doesn’t mention the previous weekend; he doesn’t mention much of anything. 

In person, that is.

That Friday afternoon, you’re reading on the terrace of the library when you receive a text. It’s from Hyunjin, a two-minute voice note. You hesitate for a moment, stick a pencil into the gutter of your textbook to save your place, and slip your earbuds in. You listen to it.

Then you listen to it again.

And again as you wrap up your study session and go home. Again as you cook yourself dinner and load the dishwasher. Again as you shrug on a jacket and pocket your keys, setting off on the familiar trek to the gym.

As for what you plan to do there on a Friday night, long after the team has finished practice, you haven’t the slightest clue. You continue to move regardless, fueled by the feeling that there is where you need to be.

Coach Bang is leaving the building just as you’re approaching it. He halts in his footsteps and raises his eyebrows when he notices you. The man has always been difficult to read, but his face is exceptionally opaque now. Maybe it’s the shadowy landscape; more likely it’s the uneasiness that began to mount within you once you noticed the lights in the gym were still on.

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

“Coach,” you return, lowering your head. “I want to apologize for—”

“Save it,” he says, not unkindly. “There’s nothing to apologize for, alright? The team is lucky to have you.”

You manage a grateful smile. “I’ll be back starting next week.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He starts to walk away, stops himself, and glances into the illuminated building. “I would give him some space, by the way.”

Your uneasiness morphs into anxiety as you watch his broad back retreat into the shadows. You remain outside the gym for a few minutes more, accompanied by the distant melodies of cricket chorales and the muffled squeaking of shoes against laminated hardwood, the harsh sounds of flesh meeting leather.

Briskly, you walk home, rummage around, and return to the gym ten minutes later with your textbook tucked beneath your arm. This time, you unlock and enter the building without a moment of hesitation. 

Hyunjin is positioned multiple yards behind the service line, rotating a volleyball in his hands. A high toss, two resounding steps, and a collision like the crack of a whip. The previous ball has barely landed in the furthest corner of the court when he’s picking up the next, retreating to the same spot to do it all again. His tank top is the color of charcoal over his sweaty skin, his hair auburn where it’s plastered to his neck. He’s alone.

You only catch sight of Hyunjin’s face when you descend the stairs. His expression is crystalline, hardened with concentration and fortified by courage, but fragile all at once, rendered delicate by fatigue and fear, spilling from his every seam and splintering off his person like a broken vase. You recognize it as clearly as if you were looking at a picture of yourself from the worst years of your life.

“I was told to give you space,” you call out, and Hyunjin drops the volleyball he’s holding.

His lips fall apart. Nothing comes out of them. The only sounds to follow are your footsteps as you make your way towards the bleachers, a vertical wall of plastic now that they’ve been retracted for the night. You fold your legs into a criss-cross as you take a seat at their base.

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

“Don’t make me go further, please. I’m not ready to die.”

Finally, this earns you a smile. It’s not much, but it loosens the nervous coils in your heart, permits your lungs to contract once more, and it remains on his face as he swipes the ball back into his hands. You open your textbook.

The rest of the night elapses in turning pages and soaring volleyballs. You don’t care for minutes or hours; you give him all the time in the world, as he did you.

The only time you glance at the clock on the wall is around midnight, when Hyunjin hobbles to the middle of the court and collapses. You’re worried at first. Then he rolls onto his back and releases a guttural groan into his hands, and your held breath comes out a laugh. You set down your book and stand up.

There’s a lake of perspiration forming around him. You pay it no mind and flop onto the floor, your eyes instantly narrowing beneath the fluorescent lights. 

“How do you see under these things?”

“I don’t,” he returns. “I complained about it to Coach once.”

“And?”

“He made them brighter.” Sounds about right.

Hyunjin spends the next few minutes catching his breath, his chest rising and falling in your peripheral vision. You sift through your mind for phrases of consolation or gestures of support and come up empty. You wish you had Hyunjin’s way with words.

But you think about the way his smile reached his eyes as he thanked you for caring about him, the tenderness with which he caught your hand at the arcade, the I give a fuck about you he blurted before ending the study call. You think about the voice note. It’s not that Hyunjin has a way with words; it’s that he’s brave enough to break the silences that you can’t, like he perceives your anxiety for the aftermath, shouldering the responsibility so you won’t have to.

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away. You give up on squinting and close your eyes. The lights are still bright enough to dance around the murky darkness.

“I don’t think I know how to put it into words.”

You nearly laugh; you know how that feels. “Don’t think, just talk. I’m here.”

The same advice you gave yourself seems to work on him as well.

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

His role model.

“He’s currently playing for a club team in Italy called Allianz Milano.” He blows out a deep breath. “I’ve been talking to their coach, Roberto Piazza, for the last six months.”

The gears in your head creak in their effort to process the implications of these words. “Holy shit, Hwang.”

“He emailed again, this morning. Said he was coming to the tournament later this month, he’s excited to see me play in person, whatever. And it hit me, finally, that this is all real. Like, this is actually happening to me. I spent all of today freaking out and asked Coach to let me stay back after practice. Usually, it wears out my brain if I tire my body, but it only half-worked today. I couldn’t wrap my head around anything. I still can’t.

“I am who I am because of that man, and now…I have a shot at playing with him. I keep asking myself why I’m not—not happier. I should be bouncing off the fucking walls, no? If I told my past self that this would be happening to him one day, he—he would—”

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

Hyunjin is sitting up next to you, staring intensely into the bleachers. You first notice the tip of his tongue prodding into his cheek, then his shuddering breath. He lifts a hand to his face, pressing against his eyes.

You stop thinking after that.

You sit up with him. When you settle your fingers around his wrist, he allows you to pull his hand back to his side. But he turns away as if trying to hide from you; he squeezes his eyes shut as if that would obstruct your view of his pain.

You reach to cradle his face, bringing him back to you. The cuff of your sleeves wipe at the saltwater on his cheeks, push the hair off his forehead with gentle sweeps. The two of you are close, close enough that your lips would meet the space between his eyes if you so much as lost your balance. His gaze traverses to your face, but you resolve not to meet it. You know you will traipse into uncharted territory the moment you do.

“Don’t fight it.” You trace over the hill of his cheek. “Healing becomes easier if you let yourself hurt. Trust me, Hyunjin.”

His first name should feel foreign on your tongue, yet you suspect the syllables have accompanied you all your life.

“You don’t have to continue if you can’t.”

“S’okay.” Hyunjin lifts your hand away from his face, presses a kiss to the base of your palm. “I want to.”

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before; does he do the same?

“I used to play volleyball on this expanse of cracked blacktop, behind my primary school. It was pretty brutal on my feet—I blew through so many different pairs of sneakers my mom almost made me quit.” He smiles at the memory. “But every time I came close to quitting, I’d go home and rewatch the same USA vs. Poland match from the 2008 Summer Olympics I asked my dad to record, and I’d promise myself it would be me on some other kid’s screen someday.

“That kid would tell everyone who’d listen about how cool I am. That I’m a secret superhero. That I’m living proof humans can fly if they really, really try—just like I talked about the volleyball players I grew up watching on my TV.

“The other day, Coach told me that hope would consume me. I thought it was just some senile drivel at the time, but..I think I get what he means now. I would do anything and everything to make that kid proud—even if it meant losing myself.” He lowers his head, auburn strands falling into his eyes. “That’s what’s on my mind.”

Amidst the ensuing pause, a storm approaches. It does not come in the form of rain or snow, sleet or hail, no; it is a gathering of words unsaid and emotions unacknowledged, all emerging from the deepest chambers of your heart in synchrony. The same entities you used to scapegoat for all the times things were awkward between you and Hyunjin when you were the culprit all along. You and your blind cowardice.

The storm tears open the seam of your lips. You do not resist; it’s long overdue.

“Every time Changbin sees you, he turns into a smitten schoolgirl,” you say. “He is physically unable to contain how endearing he finds you. He told me so himself.”

Hyunjin looks at you with widened eyes. You think you can see your own reflection in them, and you are the spitting image of a lighter dropped into gasoline, unstoppable in your vehemence.

“Jeongin comes to you for advice before anyone else,” you continue, “even for things related to school—which I still find hard to believe, I’m not gonna lie. But you have his best interests in mind, and it shows in everything you do for him. Of course your opinion matters more than anything in the world.

“I know you think he can’t stand you, but you are the reason Coach Bang loves this job, why he loves this sport. It’s written all over his face every time he calls you something mean, every time he makes you run another lap, every time he looks at you. You’re like a son to him. Everyone sees it but you.”

“Then there’s me.” You pause to catch your breath. “When I think about what my life used to be, I remember a lot of things. I remember loneliness. Insecurity. I remember my books and my backgammon boards and the way I taught myself to disappear inside them so the world would never find me. I remember avoiding mirrors like a vampire because I didn’t like seeing my own reflection. I remember feeling like I had to put on someone else’s personality every time I left the house because nobody would want to know me for me. All I ever wanted was a place where I could be myself, love myself, without consequence. I have yet to find that place.

“But I found a person. Someone who wouldn’t know time and place if they kicked his dick into his body. Someone who thinks instant ramen is high in nutritional value because it comes with dried vegetables. Someone who sweats the same amount of rain the Sahara Desert receives yearly—your body is not normal, by the way.”

Hyunjin giggles; it is soft and short, a small, tearful huff into the quiet air that makes you feel like you’re flying.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you say. “Your sense of humor sucks and your taste in coffee is so boring and you are the one with no media literacy, not Professor Kim. But I love spending time with you. I love who I am when I’m around you. And none of that has to do with volleyball.”

The next time you blink, you discover that he’s not the only one with tears in his eyes. How long has that been going on?

“There’s so much about you to be proud of, Hyunjin.” You give him a watery smile. “That kid will be spoiled for choice.”

When Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, you fall into each other like going to bed after a long day. Your face burrows into the crook of his neck in your embarrassment; he is laughing and crying at the same time when he mumbles something into your shoulder: “I knew you cared about me.”

You are so happy for the comedic relief you could sob. It helps that you already are.

“How the fuck are you still sweaty?” You choke out, and you think you like his cologne after all.

Six days later, Hyunjin opens the door of his apartment.

A fun-sized flurry of black and white barrages into the hallway outside and almost runs headfirst into the figure waiting there. You fall to your knees like you’ve just been gravely wounded, emitting an ear-piercing wail to match. All it takes is a few good head scratches for Kkami to stop yipping bloody murder and start whining for attention instead. 

Upon minute five of watching you and his dog cuddle in the hallway directly outside his home, Hyunjin sighs.

“Can you come inside, please? My RA will think I’m doing some freaky shit again.”

You side-eye him as you walk into his apartment, Kkami perched happily in your arms. “What, exactly, does freaky shit entail?”

He smirks as the door falls shut. “You want me to tell you or show you?”

You turn to Kkami, disgusted. “Your owner’s a bit of a pervert, my dear.”

Kkami licks you on the chin. Hyunjin’s eyes narrow to slits.

“Traitor.”

Naturally, Hyunjin’s parents chose the eve of his final anthropology exam—and the week before the tournament that will determine the trajectory of his career—to ask him to look after Kkami for a few days. He nearly canceled their plane tickets himself, but his impromptu roommate is currently ransacking your face with kisses on his couch, and he thinks your laugh complements his studio better than any decoration. 

“Do you want anything to drink?” He calls from the kitchen area.

You meander over, Kkami (still) perched happily in your arms. “What do you have?” 

“Alcohol.” He opens his fridge far enough so you can peer over his shoulder. “Americanos.”

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

“What the Italians don’t know won’t hurt them. You want apple juice, don’t you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Maybe. Can you open it for me? My hands are full.”

Hyunjin does so with far less reluctance than he feigns. You thank him jubilantly, popping the straw into your mouth.

“Let’s get this over with.”

At 10:32 P.M., all is calm. You are sitting on the floor, your back against the side of his mattress. Hyunjin is where the universe intended: curled up in bed, both him and his laptop lying on their sides. You have studied eight out of ten units in only two and a half hours, and the night is still young. Kkami is but a fluffy, sleepy Oreo by your waist.

At 10:33 P.M., the Oreo begins to retch.

You startle a foot into the air. Hyunjin is out of bed and on his feet in the blink of an eye, the very image of a dog dad on duty. He grabs three different things off the kitchen counter with one hand and scoops up the long-haired chihuahua with the other, and then he’s kicking open the door.

Seungmin appears out of thin air carrying two heaping bags of groceries. Hyunjin nearly knocks him and a month’s worth of fresh produce down four flights of stairs.

“Hyun—Kkami?” Seungmin swivels. “Yo, what the fuck is—”

Hyunjin is already out the door.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin squats off to the side, pouring fresh water into a portable dog bowl. A little ways away, Kkami is throwing up ebulliently; a set of footsteps approaches.

“What is this thing?” Seungmin squats down next to Hyunjin, picking up the piece of patterned fabric lying on the grass. 

“Kkami gets sad after throwing up,” he sighs. “His blanket makes him feel better.”

Seungmin watches the chihuahua for a few moments, a soft flinch crimping his features. “He ate too fast again?”

Hyunjin rakes a hand through his hair. “I don’t get it. Nobody’s gonna take his food from him.”

Seungmin laughs. “I didn’t even know he was on campus.”

“I picked him up last night. My parents are traveling for work—they say hi, by the way.”

“I say hi back. I miss your mom’s cooking.”

“Me too,” Hyunjin says, smiling. “She would love to cook for you again—she’s always saying you’re too skinny.”

“She really is.”

A beat passes; it is then that Hyunjin has an epiphany.

Seungmin was the one who put a volleyball in his hands for the first time. Back then, Hyunjin was the lesser troublemaker between the two of them—a concept that neither of them can wrap their heads around to this day. Seungmin suggested they use the clotheslines in Hyunjin’s backyard as a makeshift net, despite Hyunjin’s dissuading; half of Hyunjin’s father’s wardrobe caught on fire, Seungmin had a black eye for a week, and nobody knows what happened to that volleyball. The two of them have been attached at the hip ever since.

It is a crazy thing, having your best friend as a teammate; a singular flick of the wrist or a point of his shoe and Seungmin will know exactly Hyunjin wants the ball down to the net’s fraying fibers; Hyunjin will be exactly where Seungmin needs him down to the flecks of paint on the volleyball court. Hyunjin has always been Seungmin’s hitter—Seungmin, always Hyunjin’s setter. Nothing will ever change between them so long as that remains the case.

At least, that’s what Hyunjin used to think.

Learning that Seungmin was in a relationship was as much a wake-up call for Hyunjin as it was for you. At first, he was just fucking pissed; how could Seungmin be so stupid as to turn down someone like you, especially when Hyunjin had shot his mouth off about his wingman services? More importantly, how long had his best friend of eighteen years been in love, and why was he the last to know? 

Only now, as they wait for his nine-year-old chihuahua to finish barfing, does Hyunjin realize that he can’t remember the last time he and Seungmin talked. Not “talked” as in a brief exchange inside the locker room or the lecture hall, about a new approach he wants to try or what Seungmin got on number four or if he wants a ride to practice—“talked” as in talked, about Hyunjin, about Seungmin, about the eighteen years they shared, about all the years yet to come.

Hyunjin sees his setter every day; he stopped looking for his friend a long time ago. 

“Yeonwoo, right?”

He senses surprise in Seungmin without having to look at him. But he also senses a smile, a subtle show that Seungmin recognizes what he’s trying to do—and forgives him.

“Yeonwoo,” Seungmin affirms. “We’re in the same songwriting intensive this semester.”

“Also a singer?”

He shakes his head. “Piano player. Performed at the Carnegie Hall in the United States at, like, seven years old. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone so talented.”

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

Kkami walks over with his head hung low and tail between his legs, and Hyunjin hurries to drape the pup in his favorite blanket, pulling the bowl of water in front of him in tandem. Seungmin runs a hand over the top of Kkami’s head as he hydrates.

“You’ve suffered,” he tells him solemnly, and Hyunjin snorts.

“As I was saying—that’s crazy to hear, coming from the most talented person I know. You guys looked so good together.”

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

“You deserve it. You really do, Kim.” They exchange smiles, and Hyunjin gives Seungmin a playful nudge. “When are you introducing us?”

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

“Dinner with my mom, dinner with Yeonwoo,” Hyunjin recounts. “I’m holding you to it.”

“Bet.”

They shake on it. If Hyunjin wasn’t already reassured by Seungmin’s smile, he knows by his clasp around his hand that they’ll be okay.

“What about you?” Seungmin asks. “Are you together yet?”

Hyunjin knew this was coming. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Seungmin strings his hands together, letting them dangle in the space between his knees. “Someone you have questions for that you’re too scared to ask. Someone who’s lived in your mind since the day you met. There’s someone like that, isn’t there?”

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

Ever since that night on the gym floor, Hyunjin’s been having these dreams. By the time his alarm goes off in the morning, every detail of the dream has eluded him, leaving behind only a ghost of emotion, akin to the breeze that grazes your face moments after walking past another person.

But then he’ll get out of bed, and walk to that café on the east side of campus, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There, he’ll order a vanilla latte with extra sweetener, then turn around to see you standing five feet away, holding an Americano and trying not to laugh. And he’ll just know, with everything in him, that you are where his head goes when he’s not keeping watch.

He still addresses you by the pet names you hate. He still finds any excuse to be close to you; he still pesters you like a child with a crush. But now, he calls you his baby like one wishes on a star; his eyes drift to your lips every time you’re within two feet of each other; he makes fun of your likes and dislikes only because he’s happy to know about them at all. Ever since that night on the gym floor.

It’s impossible for nothing and everything to change at once. Two people teetering on the precipice of something cannot withstand a gust of wind so powerful. He’s already hanging off the ledge, losing his grip; where are you?

Next to him, Seungmin lets out a soft laugh. “There is.”

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

“It might’ve been me, at some point,” he hums, returning his hand to scratch the back of Kkami’s ears. “But it has always been you, Hyun.”

Four floors above them and inside Hyunjin’s place, you are pacing between his fridge and his bed, nervously awaiting his and Kkami’s return.

Something catches your eye, wide and flat and hung on the wall by his bathroom door. You approach it curiously, your lips pulling into a fond smile the moment you realize all that’s in front of you.

Many of the photographs are of Hyunjin: him in his preteens, dead asleep in bed while dressed head to toe in volleyball gear, braces visible because his mouth is open; an action shot taken at what must’ve been a U21 match, the South Korean flag stitched into the shoulder of his jersey; him with half a birthday cake in front of him and the rest smeared all over his face. There are headlines, too: Underdog team earns district’s first high school volleyball state title; Hwang Hyunjin proves himself worthy of “ace spiker” label at South Korea V. Croatia U19 match; Coach Bang “Christopher” Chan leads Seoul National University to second consecutive KUL championship. There’s one—Who is Hwang Hyunjin? Meet the twenty-year-old instigant of South Korea’s imminent volleyball revolution—beside which he’s written the singular word “mouthful.” You laugh; you agree.

But pinned to the corkboard is also a photograph of Minho, surrounded by stray cats in the alleyway outside a K-BBQ restaurant; his parents cradling Kkami in an apple costume; his high school volleyball team silhouetted against a pretty sunset. Him and Seungmin as kids, covered in grime and scrapes but beaming nonetheless; him and Seungmin at age nineteen, stadium lights on their backs, unadulterated elation on their faces as they charge towards each other, beaming still. Changbin piggybacking Felix through the hallways of the gym, neither of them wearing a shirt; Jisung offering Coach Bang a beer while the latter looks direly unamused (you make a mental note to ask about that one later); what looks like a Rock Lee cosplayer grimacing in the middle of your anthropology classroom.

You rush forward as if decreed by gravitational force. Not too far away is another picture of you, in which you boast a Miffy headband and a face full of foaming cleanser. Then another, your eyes narrowed like that of a sniper taking aim as you’re playing Tetris; you with so many volleyballs piled into your arms that you can’t see your own face; your cheeks squished by a bandaged hand after you lost a bet about pandas (they can swim); you clutching your stomach on the library floor, brought to hysterical tears by Professor Kim’s email. You, you, you.

You bring your pointer finger to this last image, tracing it over the curve of your own cheek. You see a dimple on your face you didn’t know you had. You realize it only comes out for him.

It has always been him.

The front door opens. A man with telephone poles for legs and a long-haired chihuahua in his arms appears behind it. You sense in him that something has changed since you last saw each other. The two of you lock eyes. 

It’s not awkward this time.

Multiple yards behind the service line, Hyunjin is rotating a volleyball in his hands. It feels solid and sentient, an extension of himself held in cotton-clad fingers. He knows how this story will end.

He moves his eyes to his best friend’s back. Four fingers flash back at him twice, signaling a high lob set to the left, the very play they’ve practiced tirelessly for the last five weeks. The breath Hyunjin blows out of his cheeks seems to crystallize in the air, almost solid in all its exhilaration. 

He bends low and throws high. His arms drop behind his body like a spread of feathered wings; his feet fall into place below him like a meteor shower, two consecutive strikes against the earth that fissure its mantle. The lights overhead are bright. His palm pulls taut when it slams into leather. He knows how this story will end.

The volleyball tears towards the ground. It trembles as if scared by all that it holds: the guarantee of a flawless denouement, the catalyst of a radiant future. Hyunjin’s heart is beating hard enough to crack his ribs when he lands back on the ground, when the volleyball lands in the furthest corner of the court. He’s not scared at all.

He balls his fingers into fists.

“JUST LIKE LAST YEAR, BACK TO BACK ON AN ACE—”

An arm seizes Hyunjin’s neck; another drags him onto the floor. His head thuds onto the hardwood with a sound he hears over the whole world detonating. His vision fills with the faces of the people he cares for most, some covered in tears and others rivaling the ceiling with their blinding smiles. He can’t feel most of his body; his sweat drips into his mouth. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care.

“—DEFENDING THEIR TITLE FOR THE THIRD CONSECUTIVE YEAR—”

His eyes find Seungmin’s among the fray. Their hands clap together with such force that Hyunjin cusses at the impact. Seungmin’s gaze burns into his with a ferocity that Hyunjin plans to take to his grave. His setter. His best friend.

He says something inaudible, but Hyunjin reads the words off his lips, and his eyes fill with tears: we win everything.

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

Hyunjin’s post-game interview is a lawless affair. He is allowed at most half an answer before a new teammate is barreling over with an animalistic screech or a new friend is screaming congratulations from out of frame.

The reporter is visibly agitated by her final question, unpursing her lips to ask: “Is there anyone you’d like to thank?”

Hyunjin exhales. “You want the short answer or the long—”

Changbin seizes him by the head. Hyunjin bursts into a peal of high-pitched laughter as the libero litters kisses all over his face, nearly crumpling to the floor in his attempt to escape.

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

He starts counting off his fingers. He thanks his family—his first and last teammates, his eternal anchors. His other family, his actual teammates, the best boys he’s ever known. His coach, who will let him call him Chris someday. His best friend and setter, Kim Seungmin, who set a clothesline on fire once and changed his life forever.

In the distance, a figure emerges from the locker rooms. There’s a navy blue SNU banner draped over your shoulders, two overflowing duffel bags in your hands. Jisung and Jeongin run over to take them from you, and the smile you give them is wide and flushed, a remnant of the elation you shared from afar. The three of you start walking out of the gym.

Hyunjin thanks you.

You didn’t ask for the position, he tells the reporter, but some idiot roped you into it, and they’re all so grateful that you decided to stick around. You know the team better than they know themselves—it’s hard to believe you’ve been with them for five weeks instead of five years.

What are you like? What aren’t you like, is the better question. You’re caring, smart, strong; you see so much goodness in the people around you, all while unaware that it is your warmth that brings it out of them. Flowers only bloom in the sun’s doting radius, and so did he.

You have the sort of soul that incurs the scorn of the stars. They are the only ones to deserve you, they'd argue; you’re wasting your potential among humans when you belong to the sky, and they’d be right.

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

“Why the fuck am I still talking to you?” 

“Pardon?” The reporter returns, but Hyunjin is already vaulting over the bleachers, making a mad dash for the exit. She gives her cameraman an affronted glare. He shrugs.

He explodes onto the concrete, looking around in a frantic haze. He finds the blue banner heading toward the team bus and flanked by his teammates with ease.

He calls out to you.

You glance backwards. Your smile is purely effulgent, your laugh but a faint sigh against the area’s busy thrum. His heart is pounding against his ribs like a battering ram again, but he’s used to this feeling by now. Jeongin and Jisung make themselves scarce.

You’re beautiful. God, you’re fucking beautiful. That was the first thought to enter his mind when he spilled an iced Americano on your lap all those months ago and you looked at him like he hailed from another planet. And it is the first thought to enter his mind now, when he runs up to you and cradles your face in his hands, his touch infinitely, impossibly gentle, and you look at him like he’s everything that has ever existed, everything that ever will. 

Tendrils of your body spray reach him from here, floral and light like a tropical coastline. He could’ve counted your eyelashes—if he didn’t have something far better to do.

“Tell me now if you don’t want me to do this,” he whispers.

A stupid smile crosses the face of the smartest person he knows. “My lips are sealed.”

Hyunjin kisses you. He kisses you until the banner around your shoulders is wrinkled under his touch, until your hands are tangled in his hair and aching his scalp, until the breaths you take are breaths you share, passed between your mouths like a puff of smoke before they’re colliding again.

He kisses you until he’s crying, again, until he’s no longer tasting your lips but your grin, and he kisses you only harder when those scornful stars start to dance before him, for you are his, not theirs, and he’s really won everything, now.

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

Six months later, Hyunjin sees Coach Bang standing a few yards away with a grim air about him. He stops in his footsteps and glances at his captain, confused.

“I know nothing,” Seungmin says, walking away. “Good luck!”

“Thanks, cap.” Hyunjin swears he’s had this exact exchange before.

Head volleyball coach Christopher Bang’s workspace still reminds Hyunjin of a morgue. But there are two picture frames on his desk now: one of his family in front of the Sydney Opera House, the other of a band of boys clad in navy blue, draped over one another in exhausted bliss. The latter lends the room a much-needed sense of vitality. Too bad it still houses a rusty cyborg.

Hyunjin closes the door and takes a seat. Bang taps a knuckle against the tempered glass of his monitor. “Read.”

From: Nicola Daldello «ndaldello@pvm.com» To: Bang “Christopher” Chan «cb97@snu.edu» Subject: Re: Allianz Milano V. Pallavolo Perugia practice game Christopher, Allow me to apologize for my delayed response as I shared your request with Chairman Piazza. It is my great pleasure to inform you that we would love for Mr. Hwang Hyunjin to participate in our practice game versus Pallavolo Perugia. The match is scheduled for Monday, October 7th, 5-7 P.M. CET in the Giurati Sports Centre in Milan. Mr. Hwang will be playing for Allianz Milano as an outside hitter alongside Mr. Matey Kaziyski, Mr. Osniel Mergarejo, and Mr. Ishikawa Yuki. Please let me know of your availability to call regarding Mr. Hwang’s travel logistics. His transportation and lodging costs will be paid for by the club. I’m looking forward to speaking with you and welcoming Mr. Hwang to Italy once and for all. Yours, Nicola Daldello Assistant Coach, Allianz Milano

“I told you, some opportunities just present themselves,” Bang says, turning his monitor back around. “As for next steps, I need a holistic calendar view of your entire month of October, including social ev—Hwang, is that foam coming out of your mo—NOT ON MY CARPET! HWANG!”

In a park about a ten minute walk away, a small crowd of elderly people are scattered across a few stone tables, hunched over the fading chess boards painted into the granite surfaces. Mrs. Choi whisks away Mrs. Baek’s king with a triumphant yelp.

“I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! That opening is unbeatable!” She swivels towards you, shaking a fist threateningly. “You! Get over here. Your reign is over.”

You are sitting cross-legged in the shade of a broad magnolia tree, clearing out your storage. You tried to take a picture of a particularly rotund pigeon to send to Hyunjin earlier and couldn’t even do that. It was then you decided you couldn't live like this anymore.

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s our opponent today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. Sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I would’ve committed first degree murder if I had to do this all over again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

[jeongin-lvr]

Can you give us skz bf when they find out a second member has a crush on the reader

ᙏ̤̫ ˘˘˘   skz reactions when another member likes you (nsfw)

𓈃 ★ CHAN

Chan wasn’t by any means possessive— at least not outwardly. He’d smile whenever the members would buddy up with you. They’re practically his family, after all. And you were the love of his life, why wouldn’t he like to see all of you get close? It’s only when he notices that Hyunjin has taken an extra liking to you. Going the extra mile to help you, laughing a little too hard at your jokes, and Chan especially noticed how his eyes would trail up and down your figure each time you turned around. Suddenly, Chan was biting his lip and narrowing his eyes. You were so obvious too… it made Chan wonder how you hadn’t noticed. Despite your oblivion seeing Hyunjin toy with you while you just smiled innocently made him want to pounce across the table at Hyunjin any chance he could.

It tipped over the edge when you wore that low cut top; the one he begged you not to wear yet you did anyway. That’s when Chan nearly lost his shit. He’d catch Hyunjin shamelessly eyeing those pretty tits of yours, the way they spilled from your top each time you bent forward. Chan was furious. So that night while Hyunjin was the only one home beside the two of you, Chan pressed you right against the door and fucked you as hard as he could. His goal was to send the message that Hyunjin could never have you. Your pretty moans slipping through the cracks of the door while he held your wrists above your head, going the extra mile by loudly boasting how you were all his.

“You’re mine— got that? No one else will ever fuck you this good. Isn’t that right, sweetheart? Tell me how good I fuck you, go on.

𓈃 ★ LEE KNOW

You could never really know what he was thinking. He was unpredictable; one day he might be the most loving, doting, perfect boyfriend out there… the next he could have you strip for him so he could bend you over his knee and spank the shit out of you. It’s the best of both worlds! It was surprisingly you who first noticed Seungmin’s lingering stare on you! You caught him staring at you one too many times for it to be a simple coincidence. The thought excited you because you knew exactly how Lee Know would react if he found out. You knew the games he played. So you decided to get a head start. Staring by returning the stares with Seungmin to fluster him, ultimately making Lee Know gawk at the two of you in utter shock. He’d bite his lips as he’d watch you pat Seungmin’s fluffy hair and place your neatly manicured hands on his knee. Lee Know caught on quick; he just didn’t bother to say anything, daring to see how far you’d go.

It was about a week into your little game when he finally snapped. The sight of your fingers swiping at something on Seungmin’s lips, swiping something away with care. Your nose so close to the younger boys— Seungmin was clearly blushing, enjoying the proximity. Meanwhile, Lee Know? No, that man was seething so he just outright said something, immediately placing a veined hand at the back of your neck and pushing you roughly against the dining table, making both you and Seungmin gasp loudly. However, your shock melted quickly into eagerness as you felt his hard-on press against your inner thigh; you also felt Seungmin’s piercing gaze as Lee Know practically growled into your ear.

“You must think you’re so clever, yeah? Taunting me like that… since you have taken such a keen interest in ‘Min, why don’t you show him how well you take me, hm?”

𓈃 ★ CHANGBIN

When Changbin first found out Chan had a crush on you, he was pouty. Adorable little lips jutting out, shimmery brown eyes fluttering each time with annoyance whenever he caught the two of you even just simply chatting. Changbin did not at all like whenever the two of you were left alone, maybe it was a bit toxic but does it matter? And it totally didn’t help that you were slightly feeding into his jealousy; always boasting about ‘Chan this’ and ‘Chan that.’ Poor boy was practically scowling whenever he even saw Chan enter the room. You teased Bin because he was cute when he was mad— you also teased him because you liked the sex you’d get out of him. The toe curling, jaw dropping quickies he’d give you each time he even felt an ounce of jealousy run cold in his veins. How his stamina seemed to grow tenfold whenever he thought you spent a little too long with Chan. Sex when Changbin was jealous, to him, was a reminder that you were his; to you it was euphoric because he was so rough and so whiny with you.

He currently had you bent like a pretzel, knees in your chest, ankles dangling beside your cheeks with his strong hand desperately gripping the pillow beside your head. This was the third time today he’d fucked you into the mattress— but it wasn’t his fault! You were pushing his buttons… this particular moment stemmed from how you had mentioned how toned and big Chan’s arms were. Changbin was quick to drag you by your elbow into the closest room, laying you on the bed and purposefully leaving the door unlocked. He hoped Chan could hear the way the headboard smacked violently against the wall; how you only moaned his name— Your Binnie! He couldn’t wait till later so he could show off the bite marks and scratches you’d left on his bicep, hoping to flex them around the dorms just for Chan to see. The entire time he would whisper to you in gentle whines how he didn’t like how Chan was looking at you. Or the way you were talking about him. Especially how you talked about his muscles. Definitely not that.

“Chan doesn’t have sh-shit on me, yeah, baby? Tryna steal— steal my girl, fuck. He can’t have you. You’re mine. Mine. Mine. Mine.”

𓈃 ★ HYUNJIN

Hyunjin… Let’s just say he temporarily despises whoever dares to crush on his girlfriend! Dirty looks, possessive touches, hickeys along your neck and collarbone that would be way too hard to hide with concealer. The person in question happens to be Jeongin, constantly giving the poor boy dirty looks despite the younger trying his best to avoid you for this very reason! But Hyunjin just doesn’t like knowing how he felt for you. He did not like it at all. So whenever Jeongin would come around Hyunjin was quick to drape his jacket over you and wrap a protective arm around your shoulder, maybe even bringing the two of you into a corner (though not at all hidden) just to kiss you. And he’d silently enjoy when he felt Jeongin’s jealous eyes watching as Hyunjin worked his tongue into your mouth and his hands under your shirt.

You’d tell Hyunjin to relax, although your cheeks were red and your thighs were pressing together for a bit of friction; eyeballs darting toward Jeongin who pretended to be busy with something else on the living room couch, though the apple of his cheeks were rosy and his pants seemed to be getting a tad bit uncomfortable. Hyunjin would simply scoff at you and decide to kiss down your neck instead, making sure to groan just enough to make Jeongin bite his lips. Maybe he doesn’t go the extra mile and put his fingers in your sweet little cunt like he wants to but he definitely riles you AND Jeongin enough to end this little hangout short.

“Did you see him staring at you? He’s so jealous, it’s funny… now spread your legs please, love.”

𓈃 ★ HAN

Jisung would lowkey get mad. Like? You’re clearly his girl, who do they think they are even daring to have a crush on you? So when Jisung finds out cute little Felix has a crush on you he smiles every single time he sees the poor younger boy; it’s not a nice smile either. It’s like he’s smiling to hide the pure anger he feels, his lips upturning almost creepily. It gets to the point where you softly wack his forearm and tell him to stop, red cheeks aglow from slight embarrassment. But Jisung does not give a singular shit, instead eyeing the boy longer. And god forbid you and Felix so much as make eye contact because Jisung will make it know how unhappy he is with that.

He wouldn’t try anything right then and there, nothing more than harsh squeezes of your thigh from beneath the table, maybe even snide remarks towards poor Felix. But the second the door to your shared home is closed he has you backed up against the nearest surface and is inhaling your breath like it’s his own. Lips on your neck, beneath your reddening ears, nipping at the skin like a starved man. It’s not so much as a jealousy thing as it is a dominance thing; proof that he really is yours!! That you chose him and not Felix, which only makes him smile in the kiss and slip his hand into your panties unexpectedly. The moans you let out as he fiddles with your clit only serves as further proof that he is yours, and you are most definitely his.

“Love you, my baby. Looked so pretty tonight even Felix was staring… too bad you’re mine, haha. Ah, stay still let me see your pretty face while I touch you… that’s it.”

𓈃 ★ FELIX

You were actually the one to tell him about Han’s crush on you. You heard from Hyunjin’s loud mouth that Han had been crushing on you for months; to which Felix literally giggled. He was by no means jealous, in fact he was flattered for you. Felix thought of himself as the luckiest man ever because he has someone that others want yet you chose him! It’s actually so sweet when he pressed a soft kiss against your lips, his warm, freckled skin practically melting into you as he placed his gentle hands along your jawline after hearing the news. Felix adores you, he understands why someone else would as well and he also trusts his friends to respect him and keep that shit to themselves!

The thought of another man wanting you only made Felix fall for you harder. You had options yet he was your first pick. So to show you how appreciative of that he is he’s pampering you. Spreading you out on the bed, you’re wearing that new lingerie set he bought you, lace flowers sewn into the panties with ribbons as white as snow. Felix is tender with you while he kisses you, small hands on your wrists as his messy blond hair tickles your tummy. He’s sensual and slow— not to be a tease but because he wants to make this feel special. His plump lips are grazing over your clothed pussy, hums deep enough to make your head spin. He savors every moment of this, thinking about how lucky he is that you’re his.

“Tonight is all about you, sweet girl. Promise to make you feel so good… so lucky to have you. Thank you for being with me.”

𓈃 ★ SEUNGMIN

One jealous son of a bitch. Seungmin seems to always catch other members staring at you a little too hard, seeing their eyes on you or how they licked their lips around you. But it was Lee Know who always had his eyes trained on you, watching you walk— even when you were around Seungmin! And it was pissing Seungmin off. He didn’t know if he was purposely trying to annoy Seungmin or if he was unaware; either way Seungmin was practically grinding his teeth together at the thought of Lee Know ever having a crush on you. But in a weird way Seungmin couldn’t even blame him— sure was he pissed that Lee Know even thought about you like that? Hell yeah. Was he surprised that other people found you attractive? No, not at all. Because it’s true. So in a way Seungmin related to Lee Know, chuckling at the thought after a while. And that’s how this idea had blossomed.

Seungmin had been fingering you for a little over half an hour, edging you on with a sadistic smile and his big brown eyes trained on the way your face squished at the feeling of your approaching orgasm. Your shivering hands rested on his shoulders, moans loud in the night. Seungmin left the door wide open so his roommate, Lee Know, would be able to hear every little sound you made; it worked like a fucking charm! Lee Know was sitting wide eyed in his bed just down the hall, his own bedroom door open a crack. His cock straining in his pants as the sound of Seungmin’s wet palm slapping against your swollen clit filled the room. Lee Know didn’t know whether to say something or to close the door and wish it were him pleasuring you instead. Seungmin loved that thought— so much so he had to whisper it to you, mouth right by your ear. The only thing was his “whispers” were loud enough for Lee Know to hear perfectly, every crisp syllable.

“D’ya think Minho heard you, sweetheart? Bet he wishes it was him touching you like this… bet he wants to touch you like this. He can’t reach the best parts of you like I can, baby, trust me. He doesn’t know this pretty body like I do.”

𓈃 ★ JEONGIN

Three words; jealous, whiny baby. He’s jealous, what else can I say? As soon as he hears from Chan that Changbin has a crush on you— his girlfriend —he’s seething. He immediately runs to you, whining into your arms as his weight crushes you into the bed, pouting into the soft crook of your neck, inhaling your faded perfume as he spoke. You’re feigning sympathy, asking questions you knew would tick him off, playing with his thick, conditioned hair as you did so just to tease him more, “Oh yeah? Bin likes me? How cute, how cute.” And, let me tell you, Jeongin is not amused by you at all. His bottom lip jutting out as he lifts his head and gives you the nastiest glare, big hands gripping your hands that were once in his hair. But it’s especially when Changbin comes in to ask you two what you want for dinner (though really he just wants to talk to you) that Jeongin silently loses it. Before you can even properly answer the older male Jeongin is pushing him out the room, locking the door behind him.

And now he has you laid on the mattress with your own panties pathetically shoved into your mouth as a make shift gag, holding his phone in front of your face. He’s recording, clicking his tongue and letting the camera scan up and down your sweaty, red marked body as he buries his cock between your thighs. He’s mocking you now, asking you questions with that same tone of understanding, feigning sympathy for the way his dick is splitting you open. Taunting you by saying he’ll send the video to Changbin to “prove a point,” and you’re practically sobbing from both pleasure and embarrassment! But it’s okay he won’t send it, he’ll keep it all to himself… you’re all his!

“What do you think, babe, should I send it? Think he’ll like it… no? Aw, what a shame. Shh, don’t cry, I know it feels good, shh.”

[ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ] 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾：𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗎𝗇 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 ！𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗈𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 😭

[slutforleeminho]

heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)

this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭

The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin

thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3

warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)

"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."

This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.

You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.

"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.

Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.

"Oh." Was all you replied with.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."

"Of course." He smiled.

He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.

That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.

"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.

You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.

You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.

Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.

"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."

"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.

It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.

"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.

"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.

"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."

"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.

"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."

"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.

~

The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.

After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.

"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."

"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."

"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."

"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.

He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."

You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."

PART TWO HERE

THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭

taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs

[hyunverse]

kisses with hyunjin almost always last for hours. single pecks do not exist with hyunjin — he's passionate, always seeking for more. he'd push you against the bed, lips feverishly moving against yours.

he doesn't have technique — just, passion. he kisses with his heart, moving his tongue and lips in the same rythm his heart is beating. it's messy. his lips would be stained with your lipstick, saliva everywhere. you'd pull away for a breather, a string of saliva connecting the two of you, and he'd giggle. then, it's not long until he'd push his lips against yours again, eyes drooping from love. hyunjin physically can't last without making out with you, always eager to push his lips against yours again to the point of panting. he'd be consumed with need, gripping and grabbing on every inch of your body as he kisses. in the end, both your lips would be red, bitten. he takes pride in that.

once hyunjin pulls away for good, he'd take a moment to stare. admiring the state of you. he'd rub his thumb on your lips, rubbing in the remnants of his saliva. he'd end it all with a long kiss on your forehead, and a hushed confession of, "i love you."

[hardstraykidshours]

stray kids fic-mas: day 12

pairing: hyunjin x afab!reader

genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, 18+ (minors dni)

summary: getting snowed in with your best friend takes an unexpected turn.

length: 3.6k

warnings: christmas mention, food mention, profanity, sexual/suggestive content, no sub/dom dynamic, oral (f. receiving), hand job, unprotected sex (please wrap before you tap), cream pie, cum eating, praise, pet names, afab reader, nsfw 18+ (minors dni)

a/n: this beautiful idea was requested by @yourhwngness! omg this was such a good idea, and i really ran with it, it ended up being much longer than originally anticipated. i hope you like it!

ficmas 2022 masterlist

"well…i think we’re all done,” hyunjin says, looking around at the holiday decorations, admiring his work.

“it looks amazing. we did good,” you say with a grin as you glance around the living room, the glow of the string lights dancing across every surface. your eyes land on hyunjin, and you can’t help but admire the way the lights look like stars in his eyes. you swear you could stare at him for hours.

you and hyunjin have been best friends for years. you’ve been through everything together. breakups, school dances, terrible fashion choices, hyunjin has been by your side for all of the best and worst parts of your lives. he is the sweetest and most caring person you’ve ever met. and he also happens to be wildly attractive. with all this being said, it’s no wonder you’ve fallen absolutely head over heels in love with him.

you’re not entirely sure he feels the same, though, so you’ve never told him this. he’s pretty touchy with you, but that’s just how he is with everyone. everything he does for you doesn’t necessarily seem like something he wouldn't do for anyone, so over the years, you’ve tried to train yourself to not read into things. you know he loves you, but you aren’t sure that he loves you in that way. if you tell him, and he doesn’t feel the same, it could completely ruin your friendship. you would rather pine over an unrequited love than lose him forever. you’ve tried dating other guys, but you always end up breaking up with them. you can never seem to get over hyunjin, so you’ve just decided to let things be.

it started snowing this morning, so hyunjin invited you over to make his place nice and festive since the snow put him in a holiday mood. you never say to no to moments like this with him, so you absolutely jumped on the opportunity. with christmas music playing in the background, you had spent the entire day decorating while snow peacefully fell outside the window.

“wow it’s really coming down out there,” he says as he makes his way to the window, and you follow suit. a little over a foot has already fallen.

“i don't think you should drive home tonight. the roads probably won’t get plowed before nightfall, and it doesn’t seem like the snow is going to be stopping anytime soon,” hyunjin states with worry in his voice. “you can just stay at my place.”

“you’re right. thank you,” you respond, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. you’re not sure why, but for as long as you and hyunjin have been friends, you’ve never stayed the night at each other's house before. and the current prospect of staying over at your best friends house during a snowstorm while you’re madly in love with him feels strangely intimate. 

he glances at you and throws his arm over your shoulder, making your heart skip a beat. “you want some soup? a snow day isn't complete without a nice bowl of soup.”

“that sounds wonderful,” you look back up at him.

he makes dinner for you both, and once you’re done eating, you curl up on the couch under a blanket while you watch elf. you’re not entirely sure how or when it happens, but by the end of the movie, you realize that you’re cuddled up against him, arms casually draped around each other. nothing could feel better than hugging hyunjin in the glow of christmas lights. It feels safe and warm, and you never wanna leave.

and then the power goes out.

“what happened?” you sit up slightly as you look around the now dark room.

“sometimes the weight of the snow breaks a tree branch or two, so i bet a branch fell onto a power line. they usually fix it pretty fast” he says as he stands up to look out the window. you try and hide the sadness on your face when you have to release him from your arms.

“well…” hyunjin begins. “i’ll go get some candles.”

he leaves the rooms and returns shortly after with an armful of candles and extra blankets. he lights each of the candles and places them around the room before he joins you back on the couch, sitting right next to you as he places a few blankets on top of each of you to share, scooting closer once he’s done to wrap his arm around shoulder. you’re thankful that the candles don’t give off too much light, so he probably won’t notice the obvious shade of pink growing in your cheeks as you snuggle your head into him.

you both spend a few minutes brainstorming ideas of what to do now before you settle on a little game of truth or dare, which for the two of you usually means just truth or truth since you both hate doing dares. you and hyunjin tell each other everything, but over the course of game, you’re both finding out silly little things about each other from stories you’ve never heard before. you play this for about an hour before he asks the question you’ve been too afraid to hear.

“have you ever been in love?” he asks innocently.

you feel your heart drop and face grow hot. too afraid to make eye contact with him, you just stare forward for a minute, deciding whether or not to answer him honestly, but before you even know it, you’re blurting an answer out.

“yes.”

“with who?” he responds, slight shock in his voice.

you shift uncomfortably so you’re no longer touching as you scoot a few inches away from him. your heart is beating so fast you swear he could probably hear it. panic seeps into your bones before you think of a clever response.

“hey,” you say with an awkward giggle, shoving him playfully. “only one question at a time, that’s the rules.”

“ok fine,” he gives in.

“truth or dare,” you say, quickly trying to move on.

“truth,” he replies.

“have you ever been in love?” you ask, trying to get back at him.

“yes,” he responds, voice noticeably quieter than before.

you’re a little bit surprised. hyunjin hasnt dated many people, and when he has dated someone, it never lasted that long, and he didn't talk about them much, so you really didn’t think he would say yes.

“with who?” you ask out of genuine curiosity.

he shoots you a playful grin. “only one question at a time, remember?”

you both laugh as you roll your eyes. as a silence falls over the room, there's a palpable tension in the air. you feel his gaze on you, practically burning a hole right through you. you nervously fiddle with the blanket, desperate to look anywhere but at him.

“hey,” he begins softly. “what's going on? what's on your mind?”

“i…um…” you start, looking for any excuse as to why you’re acting so strange now.

suddenly the lights click on, causing you both to jump slightly. you’ve never been so thankful for power to come back on in your life, as it seems to serve as a big enough distraction for hyunjin to move past the question he just asked you about.

“i'm feeling a little tired, how about you?” he asks.

you fake a yawn. “yeah, im feeling a little sleepy.”

you aren't really tired, but if going to bed is the only way to move past this tension then you’re willing to fake it.

“i'll go get the bed ready for you, i can sleep on the couch,” he says as he starts to leave the room.

“wait!” you interject, causing him to stop and turn around to you. “i can…i can sleep on the couch. you’re letting me crash here, i really don’t mind sleeping on the couch.”

“there’s no way im letting you of all people sleep on my couch,” he says with a little chuckle as he leaves the room.

you're not entirely sure why, but that gives you butterflies in your stomach. you try to remind yourself that he’s probably just being nice.

as he returns to the living room, you move yourself so you’re sitting on one end of the couch as he settles himself at the other end. you once again find yourself fidgeting with the blanket, trying to avoid looking at him. the tension that was there earlier never really left. he stares at you fiddling. he knows you well enough to know that's a sign that something's on your mind. he’s got something on his mind, too, and he’s wondering if you’re both thinking the same thing.

“truth or dare,” he suddenly says, breaking the silence that had fallen across the room.

“truth,” you respond instinctively, still messing with the blanket in your hands.

“do you love me?” he asks frankly.

this causes you to look up at him, a mixture of confusion and shock painted across your face. “of course i love you. you’re my best friend.”

“i should rephrase my sentence,” he responds. “are you in love with me?”

your world stops. a deep red blush grows across your cheeks, making you wish that the power was still out. you just stare at him, eyes dancing across every detail of his face. he stares right back at you, silently daring you to answer. you stay like this for what feels like hours as you wrack your brain to figure out how to respond. should you be honest? should you lie? what if he feels the same way? what if he doesn't? no response feels right in your mind, but you decide to just follow your heart.

“yes,” you admit sheepishly. “yes. i'm in love with you.”

he doesn't respond. he just stares back at you. your biggest fear is becoming a reality. he doesn't feel the same, and you’ve just ruined your friendship.

“sorry,” you finally say. “i shouldn't have told you. i’ve just ruined things haven't i? I just..i just felt like i needed to be honest with you. you just…you mean the world to me, and i’ve been in love with you for so long. you’re the most amazing person i know, you’re sweet, you’re caring, you’re hot, i mean i don't know how anyone expected me not to fall in love you. but i was always afraid you didn't feel the same way, and i didn't want to lose you if i told you, and it wasn't reciprocated, so that's why i never said anything until now-”

"ask me,” he interrupts.

“w-what?” you stammer, caught off guard.

“ask me the same question,” he says.

“oh,” you realize what he means. “are you…are you in love with…me?”

“yes,” he states matter-of-factly.

you stare at him with wide eyes, trying to process what he just said.

“y-you…” you don’t even know where to begin.

“i'm in love with you too,” he reiterates. “i have been for years now. i also didn't want to say anything before because i was nervous about what that would do to our relationship if you didn't feel the same way. but i think we both felt the tension tonight, and when i saw how nervous you suddenly were, i figured it must have been because we felt the same way but didn't want to admit it to the other person. you’re literally the best person i could have ever asked for to be in my life, and you’re so devastatingly beautiful. it was just a given i would fall in love with you.”

every part of your body is on fire right now. you’re so happy that you literally don't even know how to express it. you're both frozen for a bit as you just stare at each other, the weight of your confessions really sinking in. he glances to your lips, making your stomach do flips.

“can i kiss you?” he asks.

“please,” you beg.

he immediately crawls across the couch to you and suddenly his lips crash into yours. the kiss feels desperate and hungry, like this is something he’s been needing for years. you’d always imagined what it would be like kissing his plush lips, but this is better than your wildest dreams. his tongue swipes across your bottom lip in a silent question. you part your lips slightly to allow his tongue to dance with yours.

never breaking the kiss, you shimmy down until you're laying down on the couch and he’s hovering over you. your mouths continue to move together in rhythm, like they’re made for each other. he gently massages one of your breasts through your shirt, causing you to sigh against his lips.

your head is spinning, you genuinely cannot believe this is happening right now. one second you’re snowed in with your best friend and the next thing you know, you're underneath him on his couch.

he starts placing soft kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“can i take your clothes off?” he whispers in between kisses. “i wanna taste you so bad, been dreaming about it forever.”

goosebumps form as his words skate across your skin. a white hot shot of arousal goes right to your core.

“yes,” you moan out, feeling yourself growing wetter by the second.

his nimbles hands make quick work of your tshirt, bra, and leggings, leaving you in only your panties.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” he sighs out as he looks at you, a faint blush growing on your cheeks.

he crawls down your body, places kisses along your stomach on the way down. he gives a small peck just above the waistband of your panties before he hooks his fingers in the waistband and slides them down your legs. the cold air coming in contact with your now exposed pussy causes you to gasp. he kisses the inside of your thighs before his eyes land on your pussy as it glistens in anticipation.

“so pretty,” he says as he looks up at you with hooded eyes.

you clench around nothing as you whimper. “jinnie, please…”

he continues to keep eye contact with you, his gaze dark with lust as he licks a long, clean stripe right along your cunt. you moan in pleasure as his mouth attaches to your clit, sucking lightly. your hands tangle in his hair. he releases his mouth from around your sensitive bud, making you pout at the lack of contact. before you even realize it though, his tongue dips inside you, curling ever so slightly.

“oh fuck,” you mewl. “feels so good, jinnie.”

he moans against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. using the fingers you have tangled in his dark locks, you pull him closer to you, desperate for more. you slowly roll your hips against his face as he practically makes out with your pussy. you clench around his tongue. if he continues like this, you’re gonna cum in no time, but you’re not ready to yet. you tug on his hair to pull him away from you.

“what’s wrong?” he looks up at you. “are you ok?”

you can't help but smile at his concern. “i'm fine. i was just close to cumming, but i dont wanna cum yet. want you to be inside me when i do.”

the worry on his face quickly fades back to seduction. he crawls his way back up to you. his plump, swollen lips are wet with your juices, which he licks off his lips. he places a soft kiss on your cheek.

“i wanna see you,” you say, tugging on the hem of his shirt. he stands up from the couch and quickly takes off his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. your eyes dance across his figure, admiring every muscle and miniscule detail. “Wow.”

he sits back down on the couch, and you readjust so you’re sitting on his lap straddling him. your lips quickly find their way against his as you reach down and palm him through his underwear. he sighs at the feeling, and you moan when you feel how hard he is. you can already tell he’s bigger than you imagined, and the ache in your core grows stronger as you imagine him inside you. continuing to rub him, you place kisses along his neck and collarbone.

you move your hand off his cock, eliciting a small whimper from him. you use a finger to pull and snap the waistband of his underwear against him. “may i?”

“of course,” he smirks. he lifts his hips slightly to allow you to shimmy his boxers down his legs. you quickly go back to straddling him, making sure you’re far enough back for your hand to wrap around his dick.

using the precum leaking from his tip as lubrication, you slowly start to pump him, causing him to throw his back with a moan.

“just like that, baby,” he sighs out.

you smile at the new nickname. “i like when you call me that.”

he looks at you with a smirk. “you like it when i call you baby?”

“mhm,” you hum, biting your lip as you continue to rub up and down his shaft.

before he can respond, you let go of him to gently flick the sensitive spot just below the tip, making hyunjin groan in pleasure. almost as quickly as you stopped, you return to pumping him up and down, feeling him twitch in your touch. he looks breathtaking, and you can't help how you start to grind against his lap, growing more and more needy by the second.

“jinnie,” you whimper. “wanna feel you.”

he places his hands on your hips and helps you upwards to hover over him. you cease your movements on his cock, instead grabbing the base to align him with your pussy. with his help, you slowly sink onto him, moaning at the feeling of him stretching you out. once you’re sitting on him fully, you both take a second to get adjusted to the feeling.

“you ready?” he asks, his hands still on your hips for support.

“ready,” you respond, placing your hands on his shoulders.

you slowly start to move up and down, relishing in the pleasant sting of his cock spreading your walls each time you sink down.

“shit,” you moan, head falling into the crook of his neck. “feels better than i imagined.”

“you imagined us fucking?” he asks sinfully.

“yeah,” you shamefully admit.

“so did i,” he responds between moans. “feels so much better than i thought.”

you clench around him at his words. you continue to bounce up and down, his hands helping guide you. soon after, he starts to buck his hips up in rhythm with your movements, making the sensation even more intense. you’re already starting to see stars, but he then snakes a hand in between your bodies to rub quick circles on your clit with his thumb.

“oh god, jinnie,” you mewl, face still buried in his neck. you feel your orgasm approaching at a rapid rate. “gonna cum.”

“you feel so good, baby. so tight. cum for me, baby,” he whispers into your ear between breathy grunts.

hearing that nickname accompanied with his dirty words are all it takes for your high to come washing over you. throwing your head back in pleasure, you moan out his name as your legs threaten to give out underneath you. your walls flutter around him as you continue to slowly move up and down, chasing the last little remnants of pleasure left in your body.

“i love you,” you pant out.

"i love you too,” he responds.

seeing you come undone on top of him has hyunjin approaching his high soon too. he inadvertently starts to thrust up into you, making you cry out in pleasure from the overstimulation. he gently lifts you off of his cock so you're sitting on his lap. he takes his dick in his hand and uses your cum to quickly tug on his cock. the only things slipping past his lips are soft grunts and moans of your name as he spills himself onto your abdomen. he gathers his bearings before looking at you. he notices you glance down to your body as you run a finger through the cum that's painted across you.

“sorry,” he says between breaths. “i knew i wasn't gonna last long, but we hadn't really discussed where i should cum, so i didn't want to do it inside without your permission. thought that might be the better option.”

you lick the little bit of cum on your finger off with a clean swipe of your tongue, making him gulp. you place a tender kiss on his cheek. “you're so sweet. thank you.”

“let me go get something to get us cleaned up,” he says.

you lift yourself off him to sit on the couch. he leaves and returns with a towel, using it to wipe you off. he throws the towel to the side before laying on the couch to spoon you, tossing a blanket over the both of you. he traces small designs on your stomach before placing a kiss on your temple.

“so i take it we’re both sleeping in the bed tonight then?” he asks.

you both laugh. you turn to look at him.

"i really do love you,” you say. “i mean it.”

“and i really love you too,” he replies with a smile. “i mean it.”

you kiss him softly. you never thought you’d ever say this, but you couldn't be more thankful for a snow day.

[yootaesowlwrites]

A Book - Hwang Hyunjin

Note: Happy Birthday @taichoushadow​ 

Warnings: Smut, fluff, explicit language, descriptive scenes, nudism, nipple play, marking, fingering, pantie finger fucking, handjob, slight teasing, unprotected sex(reader is on the pill), bruising, mention of bruising, aftercare.

W/C: 3.7K

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the  age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

Hyunjin was given a few days off and you two mostly spent it together, sometimes doing different things, but you were always in each other’s precedes, today he had decided to watch a drama, and you had decided to pick up the book you had been reading for a few days and make your way over to him. He smiles up at you as you move to settle on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning against his torso as you move then book behind his head.

“I’ll be quiet,” You whisper and softly kiss his cheek before resting your chin on his shoulder. One of his hands wraps around you and rests on the small of your back. He absolutely loved it when you were this close to him, the last few days had been like heaven to him, getting some time to rest and spending time with you. You shift a little on his lap to find a more comfortable position, and he gently kisses your shoulder before turning his focus back to the drama he was watching.

Your eyes begin to slowly move over the words as the scene you were reading becomes steamy, you had completely become lost in the words you were reading, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth and your breathing slowly deepens, your body was slowly starting to act on its on, and you started to press harder into Hyunjin. He pauses the drama and waits a few moments, wanting to confirm what he felt was truly what he felt, and then it happened. Your lower half pressed into his groin, and he takes in a deep breath.

“Do you need some help?” He asks. His voice brought you back to reality, you quickly become aware of how hot your body felt and how deep your breathing had become, you notice it was quiet and look over your shoulder, seeing he had paused the drama he was watching. Your body slowly relaxes, and you knew he had felt what you had been reading. “So… do you?” You swallow and slowly move your book to the side, he takes it from you and places it down on the table not far from the couch.

“Yes…” You whisper as you lean back slightly. He leans forward and moments later his lips were on yours, kissing you hotly, his hand slides underneath your shirt and upwards towards your bra while his other hand is gripped onto your shirt to begin lifting it upwards, you move to help him in removing your shirt. You break away from the heated kiss to remove your shirt with his help before moving your hands into his hair and grinding down on him.

“Fuck,” He breathes out. Blood rushed down to his cock as it begins to harden and form a tent in his pants, and push against your clothed pussy that was aching for attention. Your fingers curl into his hair, and you tug on them, pulling his head back and moving your lips down to his neck. “Gonna mark me up?” Your lips move over his Adam’s apple before stopping at his collarbone.

“Of course, you’re mine,” You say before your lips latch onto his skin, and you begin sucking on it. His fingers work on undoing your bra before he removes it from you and tosses it aside. His hands grip your sides and slowly slide upwards to cup the side of your breasts and use his thumbs to rub over your nipple. You could feel them slowly hardening from the attention they were receiving, your breathing was becoming harder against his skin as you suck a mark into him.

“Definitely yours,” He mutters. His fingers press harder into your skin as his thumbs circle over your nipples. Your hips push forward, and you begin rubbing yourself against the tent in his pants. “Hmm, I, shit,” You pull back from his collarbone, and he immediately leans forwards to press his lips against the curve of your tits and kiss downwards. His hand slides away from your breast and his lips latch on your nipple while his hand moves down to grip the waistband of your pants.

“Your shirt needs to go,” You say. Your fingers continue to knead into his scalp before you move one hand down his neck and move it between him and the couch. “Right now,” Your fingers twist into the fabric, and you bunch it up in your hand and pull it upwards, your other hand leaves his hair, and you grip the shirt, he pulls away from your nipple and helps you remove it. Your hands immediately grip onto his shoulders, feeling how firm they felt underneath your touch.

“Now your pants,” He says and looks down between your bodies, both his hands now gripping onto the waistband of your pants. “Lift,” You lift your hips from his lap, and he pushes your waistband down, you momentarily step back to help him remove your pants and move your hands to grip onto your panties. “Not yet…” He pulls you by your waist, back down on his lap, your legs on either side of his before spreading them. You feel your panties almost slip between your pussy lips.

His hand moves down to cup you and his fingers press down against your panties, fully pushing them between your folds and against your clit, your toes curl as the nub is touched. You grip his shoulder as you suck in a deep breath.

“Hyun…” You whisper. You were already so needy from that steamy see you had read, and him touching you where you needed it the most felt so good already. His fingers slowly rub over your clit, the friction of your panties causing you to grow wetter and hornier for him. The touch felt light and teasing before he pressed harder against your clit. Your breathing continues to pick up.

“I’ll give you all the help you need,” He coos. His fingers slide away from your clit, more of your panties gets pushed between your folds, and you feel his fingers press near your entrance. “These are going to be soaking wet and ruined,” Your nails dig into his skin and your lips slightly part as you breathe through your mouth. His fingers slide back to your clit and slowly rub over it, making you feel the tension build inside you.

“Ohh, oh,” You moan, your lids fluttering, and you could feel sweat slowly breaking out on your skin. His fingers slide towards your entrance, and he pushes the tips of his fingers into you along with your panties. “Ohh!”

“Is that okay?” He asks, needing to be sure that you were comfortable. You nod your head and take your bottom lip between your teeth. “Let me know when it’s not anymore,” You nod your head again and feel his fingers slipping out of you before pushing back into you again, this time a little more. He repeats the motion until his fingers were halfway inside you and your panties were being pushed into you more and more. “Soaking through them already.”

“Hyunjinnn,” You whine. It felt foreign yet so good at the same time. “Ohhh, my… uhhmm,” His fingers push a little more into you, and you could feel your body heat up more. Your mind was starting to spin as the fabric rubbed against your walls and against your clit as it pulled tighter and tighter the deeper they were pushed into you. “Fuck, I, oh, uhm.”

“My hand is getting soaked with you,” He says, and you feel his fingers curl inside you. Your head drops back, and you feel him lean closer to you before his lips touched your collarbone. “You’re so damn sexy,” His fingers were moving in and out of you rapidly, curling inside you every few times, pushing you closer to a high.

“Hyun, oh my… fuck,” Your eyes shut fully, and you could see specs of dust beginning to float behind them. Your breathing was loud, and your skin was completely soaked with sweat already. “Hyyuuunnn,” You push your hips forward, more against his hand, you could feel the palm of his hand brushing against your pussy lips with every movement. Your muscles were starting to twitch as your high was getting closer. “OH FUCK!” His thumb presses against your clit, and he slowly rubs over it, pushing you closer.

“I love when you moan for me when you look like this,” He says. You lift your head and lean forward, laying your head against his shoulder. “Shaking on my lap for me, because of me,” His fingers move in and out of you faster, and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer.

“Hyunjin, oh, shit, fuck, I,” You blubber out, not finding any words. Your body tenses up and moments later you feel the tension inside you snap, your entire body shakes and stars explode behind your lids. “Ohh, uhhmm,” You move your hips against his hand, getting yourself off on his hand.

“That’s it, use my hand,” He coos. Your mind was floating in the clouds as you were going through your high, your body felt light as you cum around your panties and his fingers.

“Oh, my fuck,” You gasp. Your hips slow down as you come down from your high, everything felt hot, your skin felt sticky, and his fingers were slowing down inside you before he completely pulls them out from you. You feel him starting to pull them down, and you feel the fabric slipping out from your entrance. “Hmm, oh,” You lift your hips with your shaky legs, letting him pull them completely off you.

“Soaked through and ruined,” He says. Your grip on his shoulder loosens, and you slide your hands down his torso, sending shivers up his spine as your fingers scraped over his skin. Your fingers grip his sweatpants, and he lifts his hips, lifting you in the process, and allows you to remove his pants along with his underwear. You quickly manage to remove them in your dazed state.

“Your turn to whine for me,” You whisper. He lowers his hips down on the couch and uses his feet to kick off his pants and underwear that had ended up around his ankles. You look down between your bodies and saw his cock standing tall and the tip glistening with pre-cum. “I’m pretty sure you soaked your underwear also,” You wrap your hand around the base of his cock and earn a low groan from him.

“That’s the kind of power you hold over me,” He says. “Only you do that to me,” Your hand slowly slides along his cock to the head of it. You could see his stomach moving slowly as he takes in a deep, slow breath. You change direction before your hand could fully reach the head of his cock, and you hear him let out a soft whine. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing you were causing his whines.

“Try whining my name,” You say and twist your hand around his cock before sliding it back up towards the head. You lift your head to look at him and saw him staring at you intensely.

“Y/n…” He whispers. You slide the palm of your hand over the head of his cock and rub slow circles over it. “Ohh, my… Y/n… Yyy/nnnn,” You could feel yourself dripping onto the couch from just his whines. You look down and slowly wrap your hand around his head, twisting your hand around it, and hear the squelch of his pre-cum as you spread it around the head. “Fucking…”

“So good, you sound so good,” You breathe out. You slide your hand down his cock, spreading his pre-cum over him. You lick your lips as you watch pre-cum begin to drip down his cock from how much he needed to be inside you.

“Fuck… I need you,” He gasps. “Fuck, Y/nnnn,” You move your hand to the middle of his cock and lift your hips over him and slide him through our folds. “Ohh, fuck, fuck, so warm, so fucking…” His hands move to your hips, and you feel his fingers dig into your skin as you continue to tease him. “Fuck… put it in… please,” You slide him towards your entrance and lower yourself down onto him. “OHH, oh, fuck.”

“Ohh, ohhh, hmm,” You moan and slowly release his cock. You lower yourself down onto him, feeling every inch of him slowly entering you, stretching your walls and filling you. “Ohh, fuckk, fuck,” You move your hand back to his shoulders, and your fingers dig into his skin.

“Fuck, I, Y/n, so good, fuck,” He blubbers out. His mind was spinning from your warm walls enveloping him. “Fuck, I,” You could hear your wetness squelching as it moves. “Fuck…”

“Hmm, Hyun…” You moan. Your toes curl at the feeling, the sensation was sending tingles up your spine. “Fuck…” You fully sink down on him and feel his cock resting inside you as your walls pulsed around him. “I… shit, it feels good.”

“Hmm, fuck… you do,” He groans. “Always so good,” You knew there would be bruises left behind on your skin after this, and you knew his shoulders would carry your mark for days. You slowly lift your hips, feeling his cock shift inside you as it begins to slide out. “Oh, uhh.”

“Hmm,” You moan. Your walls pulse around him, almost trying to keep him inside you. You look down to where you’re connected to him. “Fuck…” You could see your own wetness glistening on the base of his cock as it slowly came into your view. You lower your hips onto his cock again, and another moan leaves you and him. “You always make me feel so good,” You begin to lift and lower your hips faster on him, finding a decent pace to make you feel good and him feel good. The squelch of your wetness fills the room, and your mixed moans and groans bouncing off the walls made everything feel even more sexual and hot.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” He grunts out. “Literally just slipping in and out of me,” Your eyes move onto his arm and your walls clench around him as you saw his veins appearing from holding onto you so hard. “Fuck, again, do it again,” You see his muscles bulge with his veins and clench around him again. “Ohh... Fucking, you…” The sounds of his whines and seeing his veins made you bounce faster on his cock.

“Why are you so… fuck,” You couldn’t even finish your question as his cock hits inside you. You could see his honeyed skin glistering in the light, sweat droplets forming on him. “Fuck!” You lifted your head and saw him watching you with a dazed look in his eyes. “Hyyuunn.”

“Yyyy/nnnn,” He groans. His hips buck upwards, meeting your movements halfway and pushing deeply into you, hitting close to your sweet spot.

“Fuck, fuck, I…” You could feel your mind spinning, you were in a daze as well, the feeling of his cock moving in and out of you, and his grip on your hips, bruising your skin, leaving marks behind on you. “HYUN!” His hips begin to thrust up into you, his cock getting closer and closer to that sweet spot inside you. He leans forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your moans as he does. Your eyes shut as you kiss him back, your bodies hot and sweaty, the room filled with lust. You feel your body move before your back hits the couch. You open your eyes as you pull back from the kiss and find him on top of you. “Fuck.”

“I am desperate for you,” He says. His hair fell over his face, sticking to his skin and his eyes were dark, you could see the vein on his biceps before feeling him wrap your legs around his waist and thrust into you almost harshly, making your tits bounce as he does. “Fuck, squeezing me so good,” His stomach rubs against yours with each thrust, you could feel your hair sticking to the side of your neck and face, your back already clinging to the couch.

“Fuck!” You moan. You slide one of your hands to the back of his neck before sliding your fingers into his hair and grip onto it. You could feel your insides tightening up and your muscles pulling together. “I’m…” His hand slips between your bodies and the palm of his hand cups your mound before his fingers were against your clit, rubbing it. “Oh, OH, fuck, I,” Your toes curl and your heels dig into his lower back as you try and get him to move closer to you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head before your lids shut and stars begin floating behind them. Your back arches and you feel the tension that’s built inside you snap. “HYUN!”

“Fuck, that’s it, fuck,” He grunts out. His hips move faster as he feels your cum surround his cock and spill from around him. Your fingers scrape against his scalp as you move your hips against his, trying to ease yourself through your high. His fingers rapidly rub your clit as his hips move faster against yours, he was starting to chase his own high.

“Fuck, Hyunjin, I, so good, oh, hmm, uh,” You blubber out. You just about felt his stomach muscles twitch when it touched yours and knew it wouldn’t be long before he comes undone for you. “Fuck, fuck,” You pull him down against your body, your breathing hits his ear, and he closes his eyes and thrusts firmly into you. Your walls clamp down around him, he could feel the heartbeat in his cock becoming faster, and your walls were getting him there. “Fuck, cum for me, be a mess for me,” You whisper into his ear. He thrusts into you one last time before stilling his hips, your legs tighten around him and your walls pulse around him, edging him closer and closer.

“Oh, uh, hm, Uh,” He whimpers out. His head drops, and you can feel his muscles tense up and pull before he lets out a low, long moan, and you feel hot ropes of cum spilling into you. He tries to move his hips, but your legs tighten around him to keep him from moving. “Fuck, Y/n, shit,” He whines into your shoulder, your walls pulse around him, milking him to spill everything inside you without moving. “Fuck…” You were slowly coming down from your high, your mind in a daze and spinning.

“Doing so good,” You mutter and slowly begin to stroke your fingers through his hair. Your grip on his shoulder loosens, and you slowly slide it over his shoulder blade and onto his back. “Fuck…” Your nails scrape over his skin as you slide your hands up and down his back. His whimpers become quiet, and you can hear him breathe loudly. Your body felt light after everything that just happened, almost like a burden had been lifted from your shoulders. He stays like that for a few more minutes before he lifts his head to look at you.

“Was I able to provide a relief to your problem?” He asks. You lift your head, your lips almost touching his.

“I would say yes, yes you did,” You whisper before pushing your lips against his gently. His forehead touches yours as you share a soft kiss in the afterglow. You slowly pull back and move your hand to the top of his head, pushing a few strands of hair back.

“Are you okay?” He asks. “I didn’t hurt you at any point, did I?” You shake your head, taking a moment to let your mind wander over your own body.

“I can’t feel any discomfort,” You say. “And you, are you okay?” He nods his head and slowly sits back on his knees.

“All okay,” He says. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as you feel him slowly pull his soft cock from you. Your mixed juices spill from you and slide between your asscheeks. “Let me go clean you,” He stands from the couch, and you swear his body glowed in the light. “Let me help,” He helps you to your feet and holds onto you as he helps you walk to the bathroom. He grabs your washcloth and runs it underneath some lukewarm water before moving towards you and carefully begins cleaning your thighs, which you just realised were sticky with your cum. He carefully cleans your pussy before rinsing the cloth and running it over your pussy again to make sure it was clean.

“My turn to clean you,” You say and grab his cloth. You wet it before slowly starting to clean the top of his thighs and over his cock, earning a few grunts and groans from him as you do.

“Every time we do that… it feels like I’m exploring you all over again,” He says. “Falling more in love with you,” You rinse the cloth and put it away. “Everything about you,” He steps closer and cups your cheek, softly sliding his thumb over your jaw. “And I do mean… everything, the things you find as flaws… I am absolutely, hopelessly, in love with every single part of you,” He leans a little closer to you. “Your face is my favourite part,” You could feel heat spreading up to your cheeks at his words. “Such a goddess,” He leans closer and softly pecks your lips before his hand drops to take yours. “You owe me your time now, and we’ll finish my drama with that time,” You couldn’t help but giggle and nod your head.

“Let’s just get dressed first,” You say.

“Hmm, my clothes will look nice on you, as always,” He says and pulls you out of the bathroom and down the hallway towards your shared bedroom, ready to dress you in his clothes and cuddle into you for the rest of the day.

[slvt4felix]

I Could Never Hate You

Pairing -> ninth member!reader x Lee Minho WC -> ~3,300 words Includes -> hurt/comfort, angst, enemies to lovers, hyunjin's a meanie, reader has anxiety, minho struggles with his feelings, cringy nickname use, yelling, swearing Summary -> The rest of the group members are over the silly rivalry between you and Minho. They decide to take matters into their own hands. However, their little game takes a turn for the worse when one of the members betrays your trust. Some may call it destiny…the way it leads you straight into the arms of the one you would never expect. Author's Note -> This is my first time posting on here, so hopefully this isn't too rough. Also, I swear I don’t hate Hyunjin. I love him to death. It was just necessary for the plot… anywaysss hope you enjoy!!

Masterlist ♡ Next Part

“I swear to God if you guys don’t open this door right now!” You yell as you pound on the hotel room down the hall from yours. There hasn’t been a reply, but you know that Hyunjin and Felix are in there. The two of them are always locked in their hotel rooms the night before your shows. They try to get as much sleep as possible for the next day.

‘They are definitely laughing their asses off right now,’ you think to yourself. It was just a stupid prank to them. Something to get you and Minho to finally get along again, but they just don’t get it. You had tried for so long to make it work, but Minho was just too stubborn. For heaven’s sake, you guys used to be the best of friends. One day he just started being cruel. Ignoring your texts, saying snarky things under his breath, scoffing every time you accidentally messed a move up. It escalated to the point where you no longer talk anymore. Truly, it is not your fault and they don’t seem to get it. He refuses to say anything about what happened, completely disregarding the fact that you were ever close enough to share your deepest secrets.

You turn around to leave, realizing the two boys were probably never going to open the door. You hear the lock click and spin back to see the annoyingly beautiful face of Felix. Although he wasn’t outright laughing at you, he was putting little effort in trying to hide his smile.

“Hey, what are you so upset for? I didn’t notice anything wrong on the bus earlier?” Felix asks. You just stare back dumbfounded.

“Why the fuck would you ever put me in a room with him?” you spit pushing past Felix into his room, “Don’t you dare look at me like that, you know how he treats me.”

Hyunjin just looks at you from his spot on a queen bed closest to the window. He looks shocked, as if he hadn’t expected you to actually put up a fight against the sleeping arrangements.

"How is that our fault?" Hyunjin questions. He seems like he may be genuinely asking, but you know him better than that. You have always been closer to him than the other members, especially after all the things that went down with Minho. Hyunjin was always the one to comfort you. The first to step up when your anxiety got to be too much. So, it was obvious that the members did have something to do with it, and it wasn't just an unfortunate fluke.

"I saw the way you guys all ran to claim your rooms while I was still collecting my suitcase. Don't act stupid. I know you know what's going on," you say back in hopes to get him to at least explain what their plan was. Maybe you could reason with them and get one of the boys to switch. Heck, you'd even be willing to sleep on the couch in Hyunjin and Felix's room, but it's starting to seem like they don't even want you in their room in the first place.

You hear Felix close the door behind you, but it's all blocked out as you watch Hyunjin roll his eyes at you. While this may seem like a typical Hyunjin action, it just didn't feel right. He tries to be more gentle with you than the other boys. After confiding many of your secrets and insecurities in him, he knows to control his face around you. Yet, it's beginning to look like he's forgotten all about that tonight.

"Yeah, I'm the stupid one..." he mumbles under his breath. With every sentence exchanged, the tension in the room grows thicker. You almost feel bad putting the other poor boy in the room through this. You can practically feel him stiffen with every word spoken.

"Hyunjin-" Felix starts but is cut off by a sharp look from the man himself. You know it's starting to go too far if Felix is getting upset, but Hyunjin doesn't seem to care.

"Why are you so angry right now?" you ask him, praying the question doesn't fire him up more. Maybe he's just having a really bad day, or maybe he just wants to be alone and can't deal with your problems.

"I'm not angry," he starts, "you're just making a big deal out of absolutely nothing." By the end of it he begins to raise his voice, another thing he knows you aren't a fan of. You take a step back, a little confused at his ignorance. He's been with you through all the fights, why doesn't he understand how big of a deal this is to you?

As you're still trying to make sense of his previous statement, his voice quiets down, and he looks back down at his phone as he whispers, "Just like you always do."

"What is that even supposed to mean?" you ask, scared for the response. He glances up sharply, making true eye contact for the first time tonight.

"You're always crying over stupid shit, and I really can't handle it anymore,” he states angrily, his eyes not leaving yours the entire time. He finally breaks eye contact, and the tension explodes, painting the whole room red.

As dramatic as it sounds, it's like a knife to your heart, or perhaps more accurately a stab in the back. You know exactly what he means by that. It's like he was aiming for your most sensitive spots. With your anxiety, you tend to panic over things that don't usually matter much in other people's minds. Every time you have an anxiety attack or are just freaking out about something, you usually try to hide it. You worry that your friends won't take you seriously or will make fun of you over something they consider 'not a big deal'. You've confided in Hyunjin over this topic before. He's helping you get over that and come to them when you need help. So why is he now turning on you? Was it all an act before?

You feel your eyes start to tear up, but you hold them back. He cannot see you cry.

"Fuck you," you say, attempting to put venom behind it, but all that comes out is your shaky voice.

"Y/n, wait," Felix says sympathetically as you go to leave the room. Normally, you would stop and let Felix comfort you, but suddenly everything is feeling just a little too heavy and you can't seem to look him in the eye any longer. You stride out of the room, keeping your shoulders straight without even glancing back. You just need to stay strong until you make it into the hallway. You slam the door behind you despite typically being the one to argue when the other members to it. Your eyes are blurring too fast at this point to even recognize the fact that you probably should've shut it a bit quieter. It is a hotel and noise complaints are a thing, but, honestly, that is the least of your worries at the moment. You just keep replaying back the fight in your head trying to figure out what you did wrong. It had to be something, right?

You start down the hallway, cursing when you realize your room is at the other end of the hall. You hope the other boys can't hear your sobs, especially the two you just departed from. As much as you want to be comforted, it feels like you're past the point of no return and just want to be alone. You try to stifle your cries a bit with your hand, but it doesn't do much. You're heads getting a little too light, you're breathing getting harder to control. Your hands are shaking, and it seems like the crying is just starting. Some may call you sensitive, but when the tears start you simply begin to spiral. There's very little that can calm you down at that point. Hyunjin usually has to take you somewhere and help you take deep breaths especially before your concerts. But he's the one who started this mess. So, what are you supposed to do now?

You finally make it to your hotel room, barely being able to read the numbers, and you start to dig around in your pockets. You start to panic as you struggle to find your key card, but eventually you grasp the small rectangular piece of plastic and open the door.

Once inside, you shut the door, a bit calmer this time, and fall back against it. The only thing on your mind being the fact that you are finally in your own room, alone. You put your hands over your face, trying to quiet some of your senses. In the haste to get out of the situation, you completely failed to remember the problem that had started it all.

Minho is sitting in one of the beds; he had plenty of time to choose considering you just dropped your suitcase off and stormed off upon realizing the two of you would be rooming together. He's all cozy in his sweat pants and t-shirt, obviously thankful for your abrupt disappearance. He looks up, shocked to see you re-entering the room. He plans to make a jab of some sort, but immediately pauses upon seeing your state. It seems like you haven't even noticed that he's in there yet. He's never really seen you like this before, or at least not since he started pushing you away. Putting that aside, he accepts defeat realizing that you need someone. You need him.

Your eyes are covered as you cry quietly into your hands, pushing your head back into the wood behind you. You flinch slightly upon feeling strong arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling you away from the hard door. However, you soon relax into the arms, enjoying the feeling of safety flood your system. The man is warm and gentle as he presses you against him, pushing your head into the crook of his neck.

"Follow my breathing," he whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps from your head to your toes. You try to listen to him, but all of your senses are so overwhelmed that you can't seem to focus on anything. Feeling like a fool, you begin to cry harder, immediately sending you back to the fight with Hyunjin.

"Honey," he starts, "you just have to take a deep breath. I don't want you to pass out on me." Hearing the quiet voice in your ear helps bring your mind back to the present. Trying to focus on the instructions, you begin to notice the chest rising and falling slowly against yours. You can even feel the man's calm heart beat against your racing one.

Following the normally simple order, you try to take a deeper inhale resulting in a few hiccups and more tears. One of the arms around your shoulder falls and his hand begins to rub your back gently. As you focus on the sensation, your breathing starts to even out, just as Minho had hoped.

Once you are in a slightly better state, he moves you over to the bed. Setting you down on the edge, he kneels in front of you and softly pulls your hands away from your face. You instinctively bow your head, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to keep from facing the man in front of you.

Minho reaches his hand out, bringing your face back up towards his. You slowly open your eyes at the gentle touch. He's looking right back at you, a soft expression covering his face. He hasn't looked at you like that in years. He practically lights up when your eyes meet his.

A smile grows on his face, as he quietly says, "There you go, kitten." Your face flushes at the nickname, and you hear Minho giggle softly at your blushing cheeks. He used to call you that all the time. A fan had once greeted the two of you at a fan meet saying how you both had the same energy as cats. So from that day on, he had called you that nickname constantly, earning well-deserved teasing from the other boys. Yet, it had all stopped out of nowhere.

'He doesn't care about you anymore,' you remind yourself. You pull away from him roughly and stand up from the bed. You take a few steps away from him, the comfort you had felt being ripped away in seconds. This was too confusing. He can't ignore you for years and suddenly act normal. That isn't how this works.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you ask him, just wanting some sort of explanation. He slowly stands up, his soft look from before transforming into a look of pure regret.

"What are you talking about? You're upset and I care about you," he calmly explains, obviously ignoring the elephant in the room. But you can see it in his eyes; the nerves, the regret, and the sadness painting itself across his irises.

"You hate me,” you say, leaving no room for discussion. You were sick of being left in the dark and being turned on. You just want to know, what happened?

"You don't really believe that do you?" he asks as his body language changes. He reaches a hand up, pulling a little too roughly against his hair as he looks down at the ground.

"I mean-" you start to say but are cut off by a small sniffle coming from across you.

The culprit looks up at you again, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Minho never cries. It's just one of those things. So he wipes them away and says the last words you would ever imagine him speaking to you.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers genuinely, "I never meant to make you feel that way, but I guess that's what it's come to, hasn't it?"

You stand stiffly, staring at him. You had never seen the man look so defeated. You are even more confused about where the two of you stand than you have ever been.

"But I don't get it, you're just so mean. I don't know how you couldn't hate me."

"I could never hate you,” he states staring at you. His eyes are so deep that you can see exactly what he's feeling, and you realize, this is it. He's an open book. This may be the one time you get to see under the surface of Lee Minho since those days of friendship all those years ago.

"Then why did you push me away?" you ask, taking advantage of his state.

"I was just so scared. I thought you would hate me if you found out..." he trails off. You simply wait for him to finish his sentence, but he never does. He just looks back at you in hopes that you understand what he's trying to say. A silence builds, and Minho takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I love you and I was just too scared in case it would ruin the group," he says, finally letting the truth escape after years of secrets. The shock of the statement leaves you speechless, simply staring at your old best friend.

After a few seconds of building tension, you can’t help but start to giggle, leading to near hysterics with more tears springing to your eyes. You had thought you had cried all of them out, but it looks like you were wrong. There's no way that's the reason. If only he had been honest with his feelings, then you would've never been in this situation in the first place.

He looks surprised at your laughing, and his whole body seems to deflate.

'Hopefully he doesn't think I'm laughing at him', you think. There's no way they had messed up communication that bad to let it get to this point.

"You should have said that, Minho. I was so in love with you," you state gently, trying not to bewilder the poor man. He looks up, and there's pure excitement on his face. It's beautiful to see compared to his earlier expressions, and you're reminded of all those little reasons you love him. All those reasons that have been buried down due to his obliviousness.

"Really?" he says, taking a step closer to you. Your cheeks heat up upon realizing that you really did just reveal one of your darkest secrets.

He takes another step closer, his face now only inches from yours. You feel his arms wrap sweetly around your waist. You glance down at his lips; they're slightly chapped, but honestly, it's just all part of what makes Minho, Minho. Your eyes go back up to meet his, and you can see the tension and nerves drawn upon his face. You quickly close the distance, making the decision you should have made all those years ago.

Minho doesn't pull away, instead immediately melting into the kiss, bringing one hand up to delicately cup your cheek. This may be one of the softest moments you have ever witnessed from Minho, and man do you want more.

You don't kiss for long, it's short and sweet, but it means so much more. Within it is everything you had wished you could've said to each other since the beginning.

You both pull back, a laugh leaving both of your mouths as you take in how outrageous the situation is. He pulls you close again, his head falling on your shoulder.

"I promise, I will never ever treat you like that again. You mean so much to me," he whispers. You bring a hand up to pet the back of his hair, pulling back just enough to give him a kiss on the cheek.

The two of you eventually pull away as your eyelids begin to droop. You realize how late it has gotten, neither of you noticing with all the drama that has unfolded. You quickly change into your pajamas and get ready to go to sleep.

You end up in the same bed with your head lying on his chest, his fingers running through your hair. Despite how sleepy you both feel, you know there is so much more to talk about and neither of you will be able to fall asleep.

Minho breaks the silence, asking you the dreaded question, "So, what happened? Did someone hurt you?"

"Hyunjin and I fought. He said some very hurtful things." I reply sadly, the memories of the fight resurfacing.

"You two are so close, I'm sure he didn't mean it. You know how upset he gets when we’re on tour for so long. He gets aggravated having to be around us all the time, but it was still messed up for him to be so mean to you."

You laugh at his response, "Yeah, like you can talk."

"Hey!" he says dramatically. You both giggle, and despite the tough topic, the tension seems to melt away. It always used to be that way with Minho. It's as if the two of you were made for each other. Everything just felt so much better and easier around him. Suddenly, everything in life was a lot sweeter.

"But seriously, don't worry about it too much, kitten. Felix will take care of it, and Hyunjinnie will be running back to you by the morning."

Part 2 out now!

[ballerinainskzville]

Unwell - Hyunjin one shot

Summary: your boyfriend Hyunjin returns from the Maniac tour. But both him and Felix have returned with food poisoning which is why you’re taking care of your sick boyfriend

Word count: 3,2k

TW: naseous, gore, throwing up, fever, vulnerability, dizziness, sensitive bf, caring gf

The Maniac tour was over.

Today marked the day that your boyfriend was coming back home. Back to you.

He had insisted on coming over to your place once he had stopped by his parents too to check on Kkami, so you were waiting with anticipation that both of them would show up any minute. “I’m on my way, wait for me”, was his last message.

Pacing up and down the living room, checking if the food you had cooked still looked edible, skipping steps that you had learned in your latest dance class, you waited.

The doorbell then finally relieved you from the tarnishing wait, and you raced to the front door.

There he was standing, your boyfriend Hyunjin with a bouquet of red roses in his hands. His eyes sparkled when he saw you, his sweet smile on display too. “Welcome home!”, you giggled, the excitement rising in your chest upon seeing him. Taking the bouquet from home he leaned it and stole a peck from your lips before closing the door behind him. “It’s not home when you’re not beside me”, he quoted from a poem he had written a while ago.

Hyunjin had begun writing more and more poetry and occasionally he’d send you his drafts to read. It allowed you to get another glimpse into his mind.

Walking ahead of him, you put the flowers into the designated flower vase next to the TV, in which you always put the flowers Hyunjin would buy you. As often as you told him not to buy flowers every time the old flowers perished, he’d still show up with a new bouquet, insisting he couldn’t help himself when he passed the flower shop a block away from your apartment’s building.

Once you filled up the vase with water, you turned around to look at Hyunjin who was watching you lovingly. If there was one person who could melt you with his eyes alone, it was Hyunjin. Both of your eyes met and you fell into each other's arms. “I missed you”, you mumbled before his lips overtook yours into a feverish, longing kiss. You sighed against his lips, gripping his shirt as you both melted into each other.

It was only you two and the sounds both of you emitted.

Until a low rumble went through the room. Which came from Hyunjin.

“Uh-“, he mumbled and broke the kiss first, holding onto his stomach. “Are you okay?”, you asked him, still holding onto him. He nodded with closed eyes, the hand on his stomach, the other hand resting on your back. “Hungry?”,!you asked. He shook his head again.

That’s when you noticed that Hyunjin looked paler than usual. His warm skin tone was missing the vibrancy glow it usually carried. His eyes were sunken in, too. Your eyes narrowed when you watched him. He was undeniably in discomfort. “What?”, he then said when he noticed your gaze. “You’re not okay, I can see that, dummy”, you nudged his arm. He faked a gasp and moved his hand up to his chest.

“You’re calling me a liar?”

“I’m not calling you a truther!”

You looked at each other before you both fell into a fit of laughter. “No, seriously, Hyun. Are you okay?”, you asked him, playing with the hem of his Celine shirt. He cupped your cheek and caressed it. “Just tired, love.” He kissed your forehead. He felt warm.

“Want to eat? I cooked you something-“, you began but he frantically shook his head. “We ate on our way here. We stopped by our favorite place with the guys”, he told you. “But I told you that I’d cook for you tonight”, you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated that he’d eat out right before he’d come over. You spend half the day in the kitchen. “I was really hungry after the flight. But… I can eat a few bites. You put so much time into cooking today”, he caressed your cheek and you nodded. “Okay, I’ll set up the table-“, you let go of his shirt but Hyunjin shook his head. “Can we watch a movie while we eat? There’s no need to set up a romantic dinner”.

Now he was truly starting to act weird. Hyunjin chased any romantic gesture he could implement into his life, including having candle night dinners. Which is why you had an impressive stock of candles in your apartment. Mostly, again, gifted by him. When he bought one for himself, he’d get you the same one.

You watched over his expression, trying to find a glimpse of him under the mask of his eternally breathtaking face. “I just want to be close to you while we eat. Or snack, to be precise”, he whispered. You couldn’t say reject his request, you two had been separated by continents for over a month. You had missed him, terribly. “Okay, I’ll bring some of the things onto the coffee table. You choose the movie?”, you pecked his swollen lips once more before you pulled away.

Titanic was the movie choice of Hyunjin. Which was a tad ironic for you but it was one of his favorite movies. Also the movie you both watched in the cinema on your first date. Occasionally taking a bite from the food on the table, Hyunjin was laying on the couch, head resting on your lap. Lost in the movie, you were playing with his pinkish-blonde hair that had grown out longer since the last time you saw him. Now and then, he’d let out an approving sound from his lips. Soon enough, his breathing steadied and he had fallen asleep. You pressed the movie on hold. If there was one thing he was picky about, it was people continuing to watch the movie/episode without him.

Admiring the man of your dreams, you continued to caress his hair lovingly. Not able to put your finger if Hyunjin was slowly burning up or if the heater was warming up the apartment more than usual, you wiped away the pearls of sweat from his forehead. Staying in the same position, with him close to you.

There it was again, his stomach rumpled and Hyunjin shoot up. Defeating his calm nature, he rushed out of the living room towards the bathroom. Within seconds, he was by the toilet seat and heaved out the content of his stomach. You halted by the doorframe, unsure if he wanted your presence as Hyunjin held pride in his appearance. When his stomach began to spasm, his whole body trembling as he held onto the basin with white knuckles, you came closer o him and rubbed the back of his neck. “Let it all out, Hyun. You’ll feel better afterward”, you whispered and he heaved again. You heard his whimpering sobs underneath his attempts to empty his stomach further and it broke your heart. You moved your hand up, moving his hair out of his face until he dry heaved.

You reached out to flush the toilet in case it would further trigger his stomach. Hyunjin buried his face in his hands and began trembling again, painful sobs escaping through the cracks of his mask. Quickly, you took a wet cloth and placed your hand on his wrist. “Let me help you?”, you asked him softly. He looked up from his hands and lowered them when he saw the cloth in your hand.

Silently, you wiped away the corner of his lips, his chin, and his hands before you threw the cloth away too. Feeling a bit cleaner, Hyunjin sighed and rested his head against the bathroom wall. “Hyunjin, you’re sick. You must have caught something while you were on tour”, you commented as you cupped his cheek, caressing it. At the gesture, if he wanted to come into your arms for a hug, he simply shook his head. He looked at you with glossy eyes and pink-tinted cheeks as he was burning under your touch. “Let’s get you to bed”, you told him instead and stood up, before holding your hands down for him to hold on to.

Guiding him to your bedroom carefully, you dimmed the exposure of your light in case it might worsen his situation. Tagged underneath the blankets, only his face was visible. Hyunjin hated sweating but he was too tired to argue against you. He had to sweat it. “Do you also feel nauseous?”, you asked him as you felt up his forehead again. To which he nodded. Confirming the symptom. Probably food poisoning then. “Try to sleep a little, I’m going to make soup for you. You can use the water bottle on the nightstand, you need to stay hydrated”, you explained to him and he just again nodded. “Can you hold my hand until I fall asleep?”, he asked in a drowsy voice. With a nod, you sat down next to him, reaching under the cover until your hand hold his. He instantly interlaced your fingers with each other, both of your fingers’ rings clocking against the material. His eyes fluttered close and it didn’t take him too long until he fell asleep. Mouth open, he lay under the layers of blankets. Your palm felt the sweat in his but you focused on his steady breathing instead. Until you were sure he was in deep slumber, you sneaked out of the bedroom and made your way to the kitchen to make something that might help ease his stomach.

While the soup was cooking, you texted Chan to let him know that Hyunjin wasn’t feeling well. Turns out, he and Felix were sitting at the doctor’s office as Felix was suffering from food poisoning.

Chan: it’s most likely Hyunjin is food poisoned too. Do you think you can persuade him to visit the doctor to get a check-up?

You: I’ll try but you know how he is when it comes to doctors. But thank you for letting me know Chan, and get well soon Felix! I’ll bring by some of the soup later to the dorm

Chan: he says thank you! Take care, both of you

You looked up from your phone when you heard soft sobs coming from your bedroom. Turning down the stove, you rushed back to the bedroom. Hyunjin was sitting on the bed, his white shirt sticking onto his skin with sweat. Face buried in his hands, he cried in solitude. “Oh, Hyunjin…”, you whispered and sat down next to him. “N-no, you might get sick too!”, he moved further away from you which lead him to hit his head on the bed’s headboard. “Shhh-“, he groaned and held onto his head. “Chan is at the doctor’s office because Felix has food poisoning. Which is what you probably also have, considering your symptoms”, you tell him with a soft voice not to freak him out further. “Felix is sick?”, he whispered, lowering his head. You nodded. “They are on their way back to the dorm now”, he then nodded and looked away, shutting down his emotions. “Explains why I’ve been feeling this way…”, he mumbled. “That way, baby?”, you move closer on the mattress, putting your hand on top of his. “Like my stomach curling inside?”, he shrugged before he looked back at you.

He was annoyed. At himself. For being sick in the first place. “It can happen to anyone, baby. We should go to the doctor’s office-“, he began shaking his head before you even finished your sentence. “No! I’ll be fine! I promise. I need sleep… and your hugs would probably help too”, he flipped your hands, his hand on yours now, tracing your skin. You couldn’t help but smile softly at the sight of pink-cheeked Hyunjin drawing invisible circles on your skin. “I’ll cuddle you lots but you have to shower first. The sweat needs to be washed off”

“Im too nauseous to do that”, he mumbled under his breath.

“How about I wash your hair and you wash your body sitting on the shower floor?”, you suggest. He thinks for a bit,knowing that there wasn’t a way out for him. And he felt disgusting sitting in his own sweat. He had no choice other than to agree.

Hyunjin’s body was a sculpted masterpiece. That you couldn’t help but stare in admiration whenever you saw it. His workout routine on top of his dancing lessons had shaped his body into a slim but fit condition that matched his facial features in perfect proportions. He held his looks with pride, knowing that he was attractive. Today, however, his head hung low with missing confidence and strength. He had insisted on washing his body himself without your help. Bickering over how to help him out, you both agreed that he’d led the bathroom door open, just in case you had to rush in.

Couple minutes later, he was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, tucked into his designated robe, his head tilted towards the shower floor as you worked the shampoo into his hair. You tried to be as quick as possible as his posture was cramped and the cold bathroom floor could worsen his stomach issues. Choosing the spray bottle of leave-in conditioner to shorten the washing time, you wrapped a towel around his head and helped him to stand up once you were done. Towering over you, fresh and clean, his cheeks gleamed less pink. He wasn’t as feverish as before but his body was still too warm to hold a normal body temperature.

A sigh escaped Hyunjin’s lips before he threw himself into your arms, wrapping his arms around you. Returning the hug, you hold him close to you, eliminating any space between you two. His head squished but resting on your shoulder, he stood in silence, taking in the comfort he needed. “I’m always here for you, baby”, you whispered and caressed his back. You felt his body rumple in response. As he pulled his face back, he cupped your cheek to caress it, staring lovingly into your eyes. “I couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend than you…”

You smiled up at him and booed your nose with his. “I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend than you”

So you both stood there, in the arms of each other with smiles that could melt the heart of the most cold-hearted person on earth. “Do you think you can eat a couple of bites? I have some drops for stomach issues that help well whenever I’m sick”, you asked as he continued to caress your cheek lovingly. A thinking second later he nodded. “I’ll try. I’m starving… but I’m scared I’ll throw it all up again…”, he mumbled. “I know it’s a disgusting feeling when you have to but I’m here in case you do. You need to nourish yourself too. At least try?”. With a look into your warm brown eyes that brought him comfort, he gave you a nod. “Good, I’ll prepare a tray and you brush your teeth and go back to bed. I’ll spoil you for the rest of the day”.

His lips lifted into a soft smile. “Spoil me, huh?”. You couldn’t help but laugh, knowing what was going on in his mind. “Only because you’re sick. Otherwise I’d demand my princess treatment”, you pucker up your lips gently. As he leans in, he stops. “I’d spoil you more than just princess treatment and you know that, Y/N”. Hearing his voice breathe out your name was like a blessing each time you heard it. It would get never old. At least you hoped so. Unwillingly pulling back, you let go of Hyunjin and ushered him to walk back to the bedroom before you disappeared into the kitchen.

Chicken soup, bread, camomile tea, a bottle of water, painkillers, herbal stomach drops, a bowl with cold water, and a cloth on the tray, you entered your bedroom again. Hyunjin was half sitting, half laying on your bed, checking out the book that you were currently reading that he had found on your nightstand.

“Is it good? Radio Silence?”, he asked and held the book up for you. You were halfway through the book and it was tabbed lovingly.

“It’s really good, you can read it once I’m done”

“I want to read it now”

You squinted your eyes at him, seeing that his playful bratty attitude was slowly returning into his sick body.

He mirrored your expression before he closed his eyes for a second.

And put on his pleading puppy eyes that you just couldn’t resist. And he was aware of them.

Defeated, you huffed as you placed the tray carefully onto his lap.

“I can read you a chapter as a compromise”, he suggested but you waved it off with a smile. “I can read it later too. Do you feel the fever going down? I don’t have anything to measure it-“, you placed your hand on his forehead, then his cheeks. He was burning up again, his cheeks flushed with evidence. This wasn’t going well.

“Let me feed you the soup and then you take the meds. Okay, baby?”, you pressed a kiss onto his forehead and he nodded with a soft smile. “I’m a bit embarrassed that you have to look after me like a kid tho…”, he said as he watched you stir the soup a bit before holding up the first spoonful. “Nonsense, your my boyfriend. Who’s supposed to look after you if not me?”. He leaned close and took the first spoon. “And I don’t mean your mom”. He chuckled a bit and took the second spoonful. “Thank you, baby. You’re for real a true blessing in my life”. He gave you a weak smile and you feed him a couple more spoons before he signaled you it was enough. Hyunjin then chewed on a small piece of bread before he one by one took the meds that you gave him.

“Now let me just put this on…” you said as you ringed out the excess water of the clothe before playing it onto his forehead. He squirmed a little at the contact. “Cold!”, he whined out. You caressed his arm and wiped his cheeks too before you put it back on his forehead. “I’m cold now. I need cuddles. I demand cuddles now”, he sighed dramatically with his eyes closed, arms swaying upwards. You rolled your eyes, even if he wasn’t able to see it before you put the tray safely away on the other nightstand. Then slipped into the bed, head resting carefully on his chest and an arm wrapped around him. “Better?”, you whispered and felt his arms secure around you. “Much better. I’m almost healed”, he whispered back, rubbing your arm. Even if you didn’t see his face, you knew he had his cocky grin on. “I’m still taking you to the doctor if you’re not better by tomorrow”, you then said. “Who needs a doctor these days when you have an Angel by your side? They have better healing powers”, he mumbled, sounding drowsy again. You looked up to look at him, his eyes searching for hours half-lidded.

He looked like a fallen angel with the pink rouge on his cheeks and the glossy eyes. Still eternally breathtaking. Leaning up a little, you gently pressed your lips on his. Demanding as he always was, he leaned in further, and you both began melting into the kiss. Feeling his chest under your hand, you gently pulled away when you heard him grunt. “Are you okay?” you whispered against his lips. “If you continue kissing me, I will be”, he whispered back and tilted his head to deepen the kiss.

[3rachaslut]

kinks i think skz would have (part 3)

SKZXFEM READER

cw: smut obviously (MINORS DNI) the tw’s are kinda obvious with the sub header but read at your own discretion babies 🤍

a/n: not proofread sorry for any mistakes. also i’m so happy to be writing again! lets be delulu together xox

part 1, part 2

bangchan; hair pulling

oh my lord this man is relentless,

he’d be grabbing fistfuls of your hair and yanking your head up to look at him when you’re on your knees underneath him

“you look so pretty on your knees for me doll”

will literally snatch your hair as he’s fucking you in missionary and growl like an ANIMAL down your ear as he’s so deep in your pussy

“f- fuck baby, ah- feel so good around my cock”

the way your mouth drops open at the sting on your scalp as you stare up at him with mascara down your face from him deep-throating you omg you look devine babygirl!

“don’t cry angel you’re doing such a good job for me” *continues to FACE FUCK you*

lee know; edging/ overstim

we all knew this one was coming

you best believe lee know would make you BEG for him to let you come every. single. time. without fail. you would be a whimpering, sobbing mess

“if you want to cum, what do you say baby? … hmm i don’t think think you want it that much” GOD

he would be holding the vibrator to your clit for ages! smirking at your face contorting as the pleasure just builds and builds in your pussy.

“such a good girl for daddy hmm?” HELP (i am simply a dog)

“that’s it, keep begging sweetheart” AHH

and when he does let you come oh. god. he would make you orgasm over and over again until you’re crying! your pussy would be so red and swollen afterwards and he lovessss to see it

“no no doll, you begged me to come so take it like a good girl”

changbin; pussy slapping

hear me out-

so, changbin would be on top of you fully clothed whilst you’re bare naked underneath him and even the sight of you alone is enough to have his cock digging into you from his pants

he’s the type to play with your clit until you’re mewling but would SLAPPP your pussy once he hears you beg to go faster

“you don’t tell me when to do with your pussy darling”

the way he would smirk slyly as your body jolts up and your legs shake in surprise at the sudden impact o.m.g!

each slap would have you groaning from your whole chest as he continues slapping your sensitive clit again and again and he would even have the AUDACITY to chuckle down your ear at your reactions

“you’ll get my cock soon enough baby, don’t worry”

hyunjin; praise kink

i feel like this one being on the list was inevitable. hyunjin and praise kink just go hand in hand

the way he would trace your entire body with his hands leaving kisses on your exposed skin with his eyes full of adoration i’m CRYING

“you’re actually ethereal y/n..”

each time he would kiss the inside of your thighs, he would look up at you with your head thrown back in bliss and smile lovingly at the sight of you enjoying yourself. (all he cares about is your pleasure i SWEAR)

“that feel nice baby?” um YES

none. stop. compliments of how beautiful your body is and how he’s the luckiest man in the world

lots of make out sessions because trust me, this man is drunk on you!

“so fucking beautiful”

han jisung; marking

because han AINT SHARING

the thought of anyone else looking at you has han feeling the need to mark you as his own. you’re his and he’s yours. done!

seriously bestie, the amount of hickeys he gives you is crazyyyy! but would absolutely kiss each one after making them

“my gorgeous girl, aren’t you? only mine” the POSSESSIVENESS i love urgh

the way he would have you moaning underneath him as he sucks on your neck again and again and the way you would sound so sexy he would be lowkey going feral for you.

“fuck baby, i love you so much”

felix; pain play

because, in my opinion, felix can’t contain his dom side around you…

as in he would be shoving his fingers down your throat whilst pinching and twisting your nipples just to hear your choked moans whilst you writhe under him

and the way he would chuckle smugly af at the state he would put you in every time. (his deep laugh has me on the floor)

“is it hurting baby? aww… good”

SLAPPING. EVERYWHERE.

the lasting bruises of his hands all over your thighs and ass for dayssss

the way he would nip his teeth against your clit just to see you jump and buck up into his face when you feel a sharp sting onfbsjsn

*deep voice* “good girl” — AHHHH i’m sat!!

seungmin; objectification & humiliation

this one is my personal fave… stay with me !!…

i know for sure that seungmin is a super soft lover but you can’t tell me this man doesn’t respectfully disrespect you to the point of orgasm !

the way he would tease your clit forever just to look into your desperate af eyes and laugh at you for being “such a needy fucking puppy yeah?” and the way he would call you a whore and slap you in the face afterwards IM WET

“can’t speak now pup? aww are you so dumb on my cock that you’ve turned into nothing but a doll for me to fuck? yeahhh…”

and the way he would choke you until your eyes roll back in bliss just to laugh at how pliant you are O.M.G

the aftercare though! he would give you so so many face kisses and cuddle you so tightly only to do the exact same thing the night after

jeongin; Msub

look, i’m constantly torn between wanting innie to rail me and wanting to corrupt him but this oneeee…

WHINEY JEONGIN.

when i tell you the whimpers this man lets out whilst you tease the top of his cock is heavenly, i mean dangerously

“y/n- mistress! please!” oh my

his eyes would be focused on YOU, never taking his eyes off his beautiful girl

so much begging and pleading and the way he would moan even louder in desperation when you smirk at him because he knows it gonna be a long night

“i’ll be good! i’ll be so good for you! please y/n!”

the way he would grab your face once he comes down from his high and just kisses you for so long with SO much passion. i will cry