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day 12: hyunjin + marking

©straykeedz

tw: mention of masturbation (m); oral sex (f receiving); fingering (f receiving); hints at cheating (reader); unprotected piv sex (don't do this at home 🤨); ♡

wc: 2,1k;

not too kinky lol sorry - but honestly as i was writing this i came up with an idea for a future fic 👀

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

✐

Hyunjin liked to think of the human body as a canvas. 

A big, blank canvas ready to be used, decorated, customized, adorned in every way possible. Personally, he loved to decorate his in a less drastic and permanent way than with tattoos or piercings - even though he found it extremely attractive and badass on others. He loved to personalize his body using all kinds of jewelry - necklaces, chains, rings, bracelets, sometimes chokers. Then, he loved to put makeup on - just a plain dark brown eye-shadow on his lid, messily blended with a black eye-pencil using the pads of his fingers to give his look a smudge effect; finally, he loved to paint his nails, usually opting for a dark brown or a pitch black color. 

However, since he met you, he found out he also liked another type of decoration on his skin - the signs you’d leave on his back with your nails when he’d fuck you. 

He discovered it casually.

It happened one day when he was looking at his naked figure through the mirror right before taking a hot shower - and he saw them. Faint pink on his chest and abdomen, bright red on his shoulders and back. Irregular shapes drawn by your fingernails on his skin while you were under him - although the ones on his spine vaguely resembled of a heart in his eyes, but he might’ve been biased. He got hard once again when he noticed the marks, and had to relieve himself in the shower, imagining your fingers on his skin once again.

Memories of what had happened moments before underneath his sheets, when you begged him to fuck you harder, to don’t stop, to keep thrusting like that kept running through his head, and he found himself getting hard once again, despite the two orgasms he’d had between your legs. 

To him, it was like having proof, directly on his skin, therefore clearly visible - that what you had was true, and not just a projection of his own imagination. It was real - you had been under him, him all over you, inside of you, your nails on the skin of his back, scratching it as he thrusted relentlessly, body pressed tightly against yours. 

Then, as soon as you both finished, it was all gone. You were gone. 

That’s all he was left with - an empty bed and a few marks on his pale skin. 

But the marks on his skin made everything real even though you weren’t there with him, and from that moment on, he never wanted them to fade away. The next time you fucked, he practically begged you to scratch his back with your nails - begged you to do it hard. 

You thought it was because he liked pain during sex when really - all he wanted was for them to last longer on his skin. 

Right now, he was giving you oral. Kissing your pussy with passionate reverence, dragging his plump lips all over the surface of your cunt, brushing you skin so delicately it made you shiver, nose bumping sweetly on your sensitive clit each time. And then he licked your lips, those lips, placing his tongue flat on you before he started lapping at it before closing his lips around your clit. 

Hyunjin was good at many things, but never the best at anything - that’s how he felt about himself. However, he firmly believed his oral giving skills were pretty much incomparable, not to brag - and he was confident you’d never find anyone else who’d appreciate your pussy more than him. And it wasn’t really because he loved pussy - which he did -, it was more because he was crazy about you and he had no other way to show you except for sex. 

Hyunjin kept sucking on your clit as he brought his fingers to your pussy, ready to slip two of them inside of you, and as his digits slowly made their way inside of you, your fingernails ended up on his shoulder, making him whimper. 

“Hyunjin…”, your nails felt like claws on his skin, and he was sure you were going to leave marks on his shoulders, and he couldn’t wait to see them reflected on his bathroom mirror, see which irregular, abstract shapes you’d drawn on his body this time. 

Maybe it was the artistic side of his personality that made him do it - but he’d snap a couple of pictures of the signs you’d leave on his body every time, and kept them in a secret folder on his phone.

He sucked harder on your clit, swirling his hot, wet tongue around it as he moved his fingers inside of you just how he knew you liked it. With his other hand, with which he was making sure your legs’d stay spread out for him, he parted your labia, exposing your clit even more to make sure he’d reach every single spot with his tongue. 

“I’m so close, Hyunjin.”, you moaned, moving your hand from his shoulder to his hair, running your fingers through it.  

It took him a few more sucks on your sensitive spot to make you reach your high, his name falling from your lips like a prayer as you clenched around his fingers, toes curling as you tugged at his hair. He took his time with cleaning you up, licking your orgasm off of your skin, swallowing it and humming at the taste - he could never get enough of it. 

Then, something inside of his head snapped. He moved his lips from your pussy to your groin, not wanting to overstimulate you and wanting you to give you the time to come off from your high properly, and placed a delicate, wet kiss on the soft flesh. Then, he sucked and added his teeth to the mix. 

He wanted to give you something to remember him from, too. He knew he could never do something like that on any other part of your body, knowing you’d get in trouble if anyone noticed the signs on your skin, so he had no other choice than to leave them there.

“Hyunjin, what are you-“, you stopped yourself mid-sentence before realizing what he had in mind. “Hyunjin, you can’t.”

He detached his mouth from your skin, then looked at you through his eyelids - eyes absolutely dark with lust and pussy drunk. “Just a couple.”, he pleaded, leaving a chaste kiss on the faint mark that had appeared on your skin. A shiver ran through his body at the sight. “They’re easier to hide here.”, he caressed your inner thigh with his knuckles. 

“But what if he…”, you didn’t finish the sentence, but he knew what you meant to say anyway. 

The thought pained Hyunjin, but he knew he couldn’t really say anything. He nodded, chest heavy, but he knew he had to respect your decision. He wanted to think you were his and only his, that no other people were involved, and that what you had was real and went beyond pure sexual satisfaction, but he couldn’t. You could - leave marks on his body, in any place you wanted, scratch him, bite him, anything you wanted. He couldn’t. 

“Maybe just… a couple.”, you whispered after a few instants, twisting one lock of his hair around your finger. 

His head snapped in your direction, and he looked absolutely caught off-guard. “Are you sure?”, he wanted to make sure you wanted it too and weren’t just agreeing on this because you felt pressured. 

“Mh-hm.”, you hummed, nodding. “Just- don’t bite too hard. They’ll be easier to cover.”, you explained. 

He nodded, and then his lips were on you once again. Lips brushing softly against you, before he latched his mouth on the soft flesh. He sucked lightly, not using his teeth yet, only his tongue to wet your skin to ease the friction. He hummed against your skin when his teeth gently scraped your skin, not properly biting your flesh - just like you asked him, but it was enough to make you moan. He pulled away to look at the work of art he’d left on your skin - the mark was much more visible now, but nothing that a good concealer and some powder wouldn’t hide. He really wished you wouldn’t, tho. If it were for him, if you were his, he’d mark you all over your skin and wouldn’t even want you to hide them. In fact, he’d make you show them off proudly, so it’d be crystal clear to anyone that you were his.

“Mine.”, he grunted under his breath, the adjective slipping out of his mouth automatically, before he could stop himself as he latched his mouth on your groin once again, this time a bit higher. He hoped you hadn’t heard him. 

You had, but you didn’t say anything. 

Those hickeys looked insanely good on you, Hyunjin thought once he pulled away to admire the two marks on your skin. He wished he could leave more, but he was already grateful enough you’d let him leave those two. 

“They look good on you.”, he whispered, brushing them with his fingers, not tearing his eyes off of them. 

“Mh, they do.”, you agreed. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist, making him snap his head in your direction to look you in the eyes. “Maybe if you fuck me right, just how I like it, I’ll let you leave more next time.”, you whispered sensually, biting your lip. 

The thought make his cock twitch for two reasons. Firstly, because the eventuality of sucking another hickey on your skin was nearly enough to make him come untouched; secondly, because of the implication in what you’d said - that he’d get to be with you again, that he’d get to have you once more.

“I fuck you right every time, tho, don’t I?” Hyunjin chuckled, positioning himself between your legs, aligning the tip of his cock to your entrance as he pressed his body on yours. 

“You’re right, you do.”, you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss. “You always fuck me so well.”, you whispered on his lips, and his cock throbbed once again. 

Slowly, he started to push inside, closing his eyes and parting his lips as he bottomed out. Then, once he made sure you’d adjusted to the feeling, he started to rock his hips to meet yours - slowly at first and then faster and faster. Panting, he hooked one arm under one of your legs, the new position allowing him to sink even deeper inside of you. 

Now it was your turn to latch your mouth on the skin of his neck. Even though you’d left plenty of marks on his back, this was new, but you could tell Hyunjin definitely liked it. You sucked on his skin, biting and licking his soft flesh for a few seconds before pulling away - the mark was much brighter than the ones he left on you. You bit your lip at the sight, and decided to leave another one, this time on his collarbone, as your hands found their way to his shoulders and back. 

Hyunjin let out an embarrassingly deep sound when he felt your nails on his skin, and snapped his hips faster, hitting the right spot every time. 

“Harder.”, he moaned when you scratched his back. He wanted those marks not to fade, he wanted them to stay on his skin for as long as possible, until he saw you again. He wanted something to remember, something to prove that it wasn’t just a fantasy. 

Each time you scratched his skin, practically sticking your nails in his flesh, he thrusted harder inside of you. 

“Hyunjin.”, you moaned, kicking your head back, exposing your neck and collarbone. Oh, how he wished he could suck a beautiful, red mark right there, for everyone to see… “Close.”

You came with a high pitched sound, and he followed you not too long after, with an animalistic grunt and your nails on his skin, releasing inside of you. 

That night, when he went to take a shower - he wasn’t imagining it. As he looked over his shoulder to see your marks on his skin, he couldn’t believe his eyes, and bit his lip at the sight, because this time there really was a heart on his skin. A big, deep red heart shape right in the middle of his spine, and he could clearly tell the trace of your nails. And then, the two hickeys on his neck. 

Hyunjin liked to think of his own body as a canvas, too - and he liked to think of you as the only artist allowed to draw on his skin using whichever tools you wanted, as the only person allowed to use his body it whichever you preferred.

✐

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day 4: hyunjin + cumshot

©straykeedz

tw: exboyfriend!hyunjin; mentions of a breakup; porn with plot but more like plot with porn tbh; very brief nipple play; unprotected piv sex (don't do that at home 🤨); brief clit play; hyunjin cums on reader (obviously) and takes a pic; cum swallowing; exes2lovers?; ♡

honestly this is, like, 90% plot and 10% porn lol, also bare with me if it sucks - english is not englishing these days 🥹 plus i really don’t know what this is lol hyunjin is always the hardest for me to write 🫠

wc: 4,2k (i’m sorry 🫣);

this is part of my kinktober masterlist. you can find my regular masterlist here (tho it will not be updated until the end of kinktober) ♡

🔖 (open): @linos-kitten ; @luneskies ; @kxcies-blog ; @idunnomanmynamewastaken ; @cessixja ; @stolasisyourparent ; @kookiesbunny ; @xoxo-xoxo-bunny ; @ivyskzsworld ; @mal-lunar-28 ; @leetaste ; @sunnykynnie ; @channiesgoodgirl ; @seonghwatoothless ; @mrsminho ; @seungminluv3 ; @jin-from-the-block ; @aaasia111 ; @sulkygyu ; @whosanaanyway ; @y-ur--I ; @vixensss ; @nightimescapes ; @freckleboilix ; @dreamingaboutjisung ; @yourbeomiebear ; ♡

to make sure i add you to the taglist, your age must be clearly visible on your profile. also, empty blogs will not be added - add at least a profile picture to your blog so that i’ll know you’re not a bot. ♡

smut below the cut, minors dni.

♠︎

You scoff, throwing your phone on the bed - still no sign of Hyunjin. He was supposed to be at your place half an hour ago, and still hasn’t showed up. Typical of him - not keeping his promises, no wonder the two of you didn’t work out, it would a miracle if you did. But tonight you don’t have it in you to put up with him - you have somewhere to be and you’re gonna be late if he doesn’t ring your doorbell within the next ten minutes. 

Speak of the devil - the doorbell rings. Thank God, you think, rolling your eyes as you head for the door. Once you swing the door open, you’re met with your ex standing on your doorstep - looking pretty handsome, you have to admit. He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt and has his hair styled into a messy bun, undercut clearly visible. 

“You were supposed to be here half an hour ago.”, you remark, an unamused expression on your face. 

“I’m sorry.” Hyunjin sighs, adjusting his glasses. “Something came up at work.” 

You scoff. Yeah, of course, work. You’re not surprised, everything’s about his stupid job with him. You’re surprised he still hasn’t moved into his office, considering he spends most of his time there anyways. But it’s not your place to judge, not anymore, because you’re not his girlfriend anymore and it shouldn’t bother you. 

“Yeah, well…”, you cut him off, checking the hour on the digital watch wrapped around your wrist. “You have less than half an hour to grab your things.”, you tell him. 

He looks at you surprised. Do you have plans? Well, that would explain why you’re all dressed up and have a full face on. Hyunjin takes a moment to look at you. You’re wearing a black tank top and a skirt - too short for his liking, but it’s not his place to say anything: he’s not your boyfriend anymore, and you can dress however you want to. Just… where are you going?, he can’t help but wonder, and secretly hopes it’s girls’ night or something like that. 

“Right.”, he mutters. “Where…?”, he trails, hoping you’d get the rest. 

When Hyunjin moved out of your shared apartment a month ago, he didn’t bring all of his things with him, and left most of his clothes in your closet, especially his sweatshirts and jumpers. Given that you broke up in mid-summer, it’s not like he really needed them anyways - but now that fall is approaching, he’s forced to face the problem. Still, he can’t bring himself to ask you if his stuff is still in your closet or if you already moved all of his things - it’d only make the breakup more official than it already is, more real.

“Oh.”, you clear your throat. “They’re still there - in the closet.”

He follows you in what once was both his and your bedroom, which looks so different now. His paintings aren’t exposed on the walls anymore, and there’s no trace of your framed pictures. It pains him, but he tries his best not to let is show, reminding himself that it was for the best. He selects a few of his favorite pieces of clothing, informing you that he’ll probably have to stop by in a few days to take all of his stuff. 

“Where’s…”, he starts, rummaging through the hooked sweatshirts, looking for that specific one. “…that grey one with the green details?”, he asks you. 

You’re taken aback by his question, because you know exactly what sweatshirt he’s looking for, and you know exactly where it is. You make your way to the closet, to your side of the closet, and slide the door open. 

“Here.”, you hand it to him, not able to look him in the eyes. He’s just as surprised as he takes it from your hands, then it hits him - it’s your favorite sweatshirt of his, the one you always stole from him and used to wear to feel him close to you. 

“You… still wear it?”, he can’t stop himself from asking you, knowing he’s sounding ridiculous right now. Call it a wishful thinking if you will - that you still wear his clothes. 

“I-“, you could lie, but he’d see it in your eyes anyways. “I only wore it a couple of times.”, you admit. 

One time, because it was particularly chilly after a thunderstorm, and the other… because you wanted to feel him close, smell his scent and pretend he was still there with you, that you hadn’t broken up and that he’d be coming home and cuddle next to you. But of course he didn’t. Yours, too, a wishful thinking. 

“Oh.”, is all he manages to get out - he can’t ignore the way his heart is beating fast in his chest as he holds the sweatshirt with shaky hands. Maybe there’s still hope, maybe he’s still got a chance to make things right. 

Before he could say anything else, your phone beeps - a message. You’re quick to retrieve your phone from the back pocket of your skirt and open a notification: a voice memo from your date. You’re about to respond that you can’t listen to it right now, when your fingers slip on the screen and you mistakenly let it play. Full volume, of course, because life’s a bitch. 

“Hey, y/n. I’ll pick you up for our date a bit later if it’s alright with you. I just got out of work and I need a sho-“, you lock your phone and throw it on the bed, heart hammering in your chest. 

Hyunjin is looking at you with lost eyes - it’s nothing compared to how he’s feeling inside his chest. Void, numb, broken. It’s as if his soul just left his body. You’re dating? Like, going out, meeting boys and… perhaps kiss them, bring them to your house? He feels his knees buckling a bit. 

“You’re… you’re going on a date?”, he asks, eyebrows furrowed. Maybe he misheard the voice memo, maybe it was not a man’s voice and it was one of your girlfriends, maybe maybe maybe. 

“Hyunjin…”, you to swallow the lump in your throat, not sure what you’re supposed to say right now, there’s not a proper way to talk about your dating life to your ex, is there? 

“You’re dating again? Already?”, anger and hurt replaced the confusion in his tone as he stands there, in the middle of your bedroom, sweatshirt in his hands as he looks at you like you just ripped his heart out of his chest. 

“It’s not serious.”, you say quickly, not wanting him to think you’re going to marry this guy or anything. 

“I should hope so, it would be a fucking travesty if it was serious. We broke up a month ago.”, he remarks. “Are you already over me? Am I that easy to move on from?”, he lets out a sarcastic chuckle, jaw clenched as he snaps his head in the opposite direction, not wanting to look at you right now - not when his eyes are fucking watery. 

“It’s not like that.”, the lump in your throat is back. 

“And how is it like then?”, he snaps.

You can’t believe him - you honestly can’t believe him. He was the one who broke up with you and he has the audacity to try to make you feel guilty for trying to move on? Okay, maybe jumping into dating guys isn’t the best way of coping with a breakup, but he doesn’t get a say in this. 

“Are you being serious right now?”, now it’s your turn to snap. “What am I supposed to do, Hyunjin? Sulk and never move on?”, you speak harshly. 

Your words sting him - because that’s exactly what he’s been doing for the past weeks, and he can’t believe you’re already talking about moving on when he still hasn’t gotten used to sleeping alone. He still hasn’t gotten used to a life without you - to waking up alone, to have breakfast alone, to watch movies alone on the couch, to the cold bed that welcomes him each night. And you’re just… dating, casually. 

“Were you already seeing him?”, he hates how his voice trembles as he speaks, and clears his throat immediately after. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. 

“What?”, your voice comes out in a whisper and your eyes widen. 

“You heard me.”, he tightens his grip on the sweater. “Were you already seeing him when we were together?”, he clarifies. 

“How could you even think I’d do something like that to you?”, you ask him, sincerely shocked. 

“It’d explain why you moved on so quickly.”

“Of course I wasn’t seeing him when we were together, Hyunjin, what the fuck?”, you raise your voice. “Besides, why do you care? You broke up with me, not the other way around!”

Hyunjin is forced to face the hard truth and the fact that his actions had had consequences and an impact on your life. He hadn’t even given you a proper explanation when he broke up with you, what a coward he’d been… Too caught up in his own feelings, he didn’t even stop once to wonder how you were doing, how you were dealing with the breakup and his absence. Was it that bad it pushed you into other men’s arms? Was this the first man you’d decided to go out with? Have there been others? He’s not sure he wants to know.

He snaps his head in your direction as soon as he hears your words. You’ve got it completely wrong if you think he broke up with you because he doesn’t care about you when, in fact, it’s the opposite. He cares too much. 

“I broke up with you because I wanted to protect you, not because I didn’t love you anymore.”, he mutters. 

“Oh, please.”, you scoff. “That’s the lamest excuse ever, even worse than the cliché ‘It’s not you, it’s me’.”

“But it’s true!”, he snaps. “It’s true. I did it for you. Do you really think I didn’t notice the way you were no longer happy with me? I was bad for you, y/n. I felt like I was… clipping your wings, like I was taking happiness away from you.”

You’re honestly shocked by his sudden outburst and confession, but it doesn’t make you feel better. In fact, it makes you even more upset and angry at him. 

“It wasn’t your choice to make.”, you reply coldly, crossing your arms over your chest. “You broke me, Hyunjin. You breaking up with me - it hurt more than every fight, more than every disappointment.”, your voice is shaky and your eyes are welling up with tears. Hyunjin hates himself for that. 

“If you love someone you let them go.” Hyunjin quotes, hoping it’d make you understand the logic he followed when he did what he did. His dark eyes staring into yours. 

“For if they return, they were always yours.”, you whisper back. You don’t break the eye contact. 

It happens in an instant. 

Hyunjin drops the sweater in his hands, letting it fall on the floor of your bedroom, as his cups your face in his hands and crashes his lips onto yours - and you do the same, wrapping your fingers around his wrists, melting into the kiss. His tongue brushes your lower lip and you instantly part your lips, allowing it inside your mouth. 

You can feel him growing harder in his pants, lower half of his body pressing against your stomach, and you moan at the contact when you feel it. Your hands begin to wander all over his body - first on his muscular forearms, then his biceps, then his broad shoulders. Then all the way down his chest and then on his back, scratching it over the t-shirt he’s wearing, but it makes him moan nonetheless. 

At the same time, one of his hands travels down your spine until it reaches your ass - squeezing it lightly. The skirt you’re wearing is so tight his fingers are almost brushing your bare skin, and it’s driving him crazy. Moreover, he still can’t believe he’s really kissing you right now, that you have your hands on him, that he’s touching you - his brain can’t process it. He’s scared to pull away from the kiss, even if he does need to breathe, he’s scared you’ll come to your senses and realize you made a mistake, that he’s too late, that you don’t want him anymore, that’s it’s over. 

But then he feels you tugging at his shirt, lifting it up a bit to expose some of his pale skin, and he takes it as a sign you want to continue. He pulls away from your lips only to regain his breath, and as he does so, his big, brown eyes stare deep into yours. You’re looking at him, too, with your beautiful eyes and puffy cheeks now pink, lips swollen from the kiss. 

“Hyunjin.”, you whisper on his lips. He’s mentally preparing himself for a rejection when you tell him “Bed.” He nods eagerly, before crashing his lips onto yours once again with the same passion as before - only a little more relieved this time, knowing that you want him too just as much as he wants you. 

Once you let yourself fall on the mattress, Hyunjin’s body is immediately on yours, hovering over yours as he keeps on kissing you without any intention of pulling away from you. Your skirt has lifted up a bit, allowing his crotch to press directly against yours - the bulge in his pant clearly evident as it brushes against your clothed cunt, which has you squirming under him. 

He only pulls away from your body when your hands begin to wander under his t-shirt, caressing the skin of his back - taking it as a sign to take it off for good. He gets rid of his ridiculously expensive glasses as well, carefully placing them on your - well, what was once his - nightstand, before his fingers grasp the hem of his shirt. He pulls it over his head and lets it fall on the floor. You take your tank top as well, staining it a bit with your makeup on the collar, then let it fall on the floor as well - ironically enough, it ends up landing next to his. 

You’re not wearing a bra, Hyunjin can’t help but notice, and wonders whether you did it on purpose - if you intended not to wear one when you were about to go out with another guy. He shakes that thought off his head, tho, not wanting it to upset him or ruin the mood, because it’s not that important right now. Not when you’re under him, naked chest on full display for him to see, skirt hiked up your waist. 

He kneels between your parted legs, one hand finds its way to your hip, squeezing it lightly as he brushes your hard nipples with the knuckles of his other hand, not touching you properly. Of course he doesn’t, he’s Hyunjin, he’s a tease - you know it well. Meanwhile, your panties are completely drenched. 

“Is this new?” Hyunjin asks, referring to your skirt. You nod, it is new. You bought it especially for tonight’s date, but you don’t tell him that. Hyunjin doesn’t need you to, tho, because he senses it in the way you lower your gaze and bite your lower lip. For some reason, it doesn’t upset him. “Can I fuck you in this pretty skirt, love?”, his hand travels all the way to the hem of your skirt, then to your inner thigh until his knuckles are now brushing the soft cotton of your underwear. 

You whimper, and squirm under his touch. “Please.”

Hyunjin grins at your eagerness, tho he’s pleased with your answer, then asks you. “Please what?”

You hate that you love it when he teases you like that. 

“Please fuck me, Hyunjin.”, you whisper, looking him in the eyes. 

He tries to mask the way his breath hitches in his throat - the sight of you sprawled on your bed, legs spread to welcome him in between them while you’re lying there in nothing but a short skirt and a black thong with your tits out has him whipped. It always has. 

His shaky hands reach the zipper of his pants faster than lightning, and that has a mischievous grin appear on your face. Hyunjin gets off the bed only to remove his tight skinny jeans, and you take it as an opportunity to hike your skirt further up your body. When Hyunjin sees you’re about to take your panties off, he grabs you by the wrist. 

“Don’t. Leave them on.”, he practically begs. You nod. The idea of him fucking you with your skirt and underwear still on turns you on even more, you can’t deny it. 

In a matter of seconds, Hyunjin is back between your legs, completely naked - fully erect cock looking gorgeous as ever. Hyunjin has an incredibly pretty cock, if you think about it. Not that you’ve seen that many, not in real life at least, but it is indeed pretty. It’s slightly less thick than average, albeit a bit longer and slightly curved so that it’s able to reach all the perfect spots inside of you. And, last but definitely not least, he knows how to use it. 

“You’re staring.” Hyunjin chuckles, noticing your gaze on his hard length - not that it bothers him. 

“I missed it.”, you shamelessly confess - it’s not the place nor the time to feel shy about it. Plus, it’s not some stranger you’re in front of, it’s Hyunjin, the boy you’ve dated for nearly four years. “And you know you have a nice dick.”, you quirk and eyebrow at him. 

“Mh, you’re right.”, he smirks cockily. “Should I give it to you, then, since you seem to be liking it so much?”, he teases. God, you might actually cry if he doesn’t stick his cock in you within the next minute. 

“Hyunjin.”

“Fine, okay.”, he chuckles, positioning himself closer to your body, propping himself up on his elbow. “Forgot how impatient you can get.”, he playfully shakes his head, the smirk not leaving his face.

You’d get impatient too if you knew how good your cock feels, you think to yourself. You don’t want to stroke his ego by saying it out loud. 

He pulls your panties to the side, exposing your bare pussy to his eyes and he sucks in a breath at the sight, running the pad of his thumb up and down your slit to spread your arousal all over you - a bit surprised to find you this wet already. God knows you’ve been wet ever since you opened the door and witnessed him standing there - glasses and messy bun and everything. 

“You think you need me to stretch you out?”, his voice is soft. 

You shake your head as a no. “I’m good.”, you whisper, and he nods. 

Seconds later, you feel the tip of his cock pocking at your wet entrance, ready to part your folds. When he does push inside, there’s nothing you can do to prevent a chocked moan from escaping your throat, not used to the stretch - despite it being very familiar. He senses the slight discomfort and immediately brings two fingers to your clit to rub it gently, knowing well it usually helps you to relax. Then, when he feels you’ve adjusted to him being inside of you, he begins to thrust. 

Hyunjin fucks hard and fast. 

It’s something you discovered in the early stages of your relationship, and needless to say - it shocked you. He always looks so peaceful and calm, and for some reason you thought that he’d be pretty vanilla in bed. He’s not. Sure, he can do vanilla if you ask him to, but his tendency is to fuck you hard and fast to the point you can barely stand on two feet once he’s finished with you. 

This time, tho, he’s not being particularly rough. Sure, he has one hand attached to your hip, gripping it to keep you in place as he gives it to you hard, but his pace is excruciatingly slow. He takes his time, filling you up to the brim and then pulling almost all the way out so that only his tip stays inside of you, before slamming back in, making you gulp each time and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. 

However, his movements come to an abrupt halt when he hears the low beep of your phone that’s right beside you. He just knows it’s that fucker of your date, who else could it be? He gives in to his impulsive thought of throwing your phone across the room - only a bit gentler than what he had in mind, letting it fall on the floor with a loud thud. “Fucker.”, he mutters under his breath, before slamming his cock back into you with a deep, hoarse grunt. 

You don’t say anything - you just pray to God he didn’t crack your phone screen. 

“Hyunjin.”, you moan loudly after he starts to pick up his pace, thrusting a little bit faster. 

Judging by the way you just moaned his name - he can tell you’re getting closer and closer to reaching your orgasm, and for some reason, it just boosts his ego, knowing he’s the one who’s pleasuring you, the one who’s about to make you cum on his cock. 

“Mhh, you’re close?”, he bites his lower lip, looking you in the eyes - you look completely fucked out, split by his cock. 

“So- so close.”, you whimper, wrapping your fingers around his wrist. “Do-don’t stop.”, you beg him, spreading your legs even more to feel him closer. 

Hyunjin’s cock twitches inside of you - he’s close too. “Why would I make you cum?”, he smirks at you. 

Your eyes widen in fear that he won’t let you cum, that he’ll just leave you high and dry, sprawled on your bed. “Because… because I’ve been a good girl?”, you try. 

Hyunjin loves to call you his good girl in bed, so you hope this might actually corrupt him and convince him to let you cum around his cock. Instead, he chuckles. “A good girl?” Another deep thrust inside of you has you seeing stars. 

“Yes. I’ve been a good girl to you, please let me cum.”, you whine. 

“Oh.”, he licks his lower lip, then smirks at you. “But good girls don’t let their ex fuck them in their cute little skirt and panties.”, he teases.

“They do when he’s the love of their life.”, you snap. 

His eyes widen - he looks sincerely shocked by your words. Something inside of him snaps, and he begins to fuck you harder, slamming his cock inside of you repeatedly. Yeah, you definitely earned your orgasm. He feels you creaming around his cock, whitish release coating the base of his length as you come with a loud whimper, looking him in the eyes. That nearly makes him cum as well. 

“Fuck- you wanna be a good girl?”, he grunts, fucking you even faster to the point your ass cheeks nearly burn due to the friction caused by the sheets underneath you. “You wanna be good to me?”, he pants.

You nod impatiently. “Yes.”

“You’re gonna let me do whatever I want to you?”

“Yes- whatever, yes.”, you pant. “You can do whatever you want.”

It happens in a matter of seconds - he pulls out of you and begins to pump his cock with his fist as his body hovers over yours, he’s practically kneeling at the height of your stomach. 

“Tongue out.”, he pants, and you obey immediately, sticking out your tongue. 

Hyunjin comes all over your face - hot spurts of his sperm landing on your cheeks, your forehead, your lips and your chin, to the point your whole face is covered in his cum basically. 

“Wait.”, he tells you, getting off the bed immediately only to climb back on it a few seconds later, with your phone in his hand. He’s pleased with discovering you haven’t changed your passcode. Then, with your own phone practically shoved in your face, he brings two fingers to your face, coating them in his semen before shoving them into your mouth. 

“Mine.”, he grunts, his cock nearly getting hard again when you moan around his fingers, licking them clean. Then, he pulls them out of your mouth and immediately retrieves his t-shirt from the floor and hands it to you, signaling for you to use it to clean his cum off your face. 

As you’re cleaning yourself off, you hear him speak. 

“Yeah, I guess she won’t be going out with you tonight. Sorry dude.”, you find him with his finger pressed on the screen of your phone, apparently recording a voice note.

“What are you…”

Before you could even finish the sentence, he turns the screen to your direction, allowing you to see the chat with who was supposed to pick you up in about… now. There’s a picture of you with Hyunjin’s cum all over you and his fingers in your mouth, and then there’s the voice note Hyunjin recorded mere seconds ago. However, you can’t find it in yourself to get mad at him, and crack a smile. 

“You’re lucky I love you.”, you pull him close for a kiss. 

“The luckiest.”

♠︎

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9𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐦 ; 𝐡𝐡𝐣

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 @astraysimp, "9 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠"!

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

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𝐭𝐰: 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲 ; 𝐟2𝐥 ; 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐝 ; 𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐢𝐯 𝐬𝐞𝐱 (𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭!!!) ; 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐞 ;

𝐰𝐜: 4,2 𝐤

𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭, 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢

🎄

“See? I told you it was going to be a success,” Hyunjin closes your bedroom door behind his slender figure, speaking in a low tone to make sure nobody can hear his words. 

“My aunt already loves you,” you giggle, opening a drawer only to pull out micellar water and cotton disks to remove your makeup, “she’s going to be crushed when she finds out.”

“Maybe she won’t,” Hyunjin casually comments with a shrug, then crosses his arms over his torso and takes his sweater off, remaining with just a long-sleeved t-shirt. 

“What do you mean she won’t, you saw how she was about to cry when I introduced you two,” you point out while removing your earrings, placing the jewellery on your desk, careful not to scratch the delicate wooden surface. 

“She won’t find out, I mean,” Hyunjin clarifies, “pabo.”  

But that confuses you even more. “I’m not following you…”

“I mean, we don’t have to necessarily tell her about our… agreement,” Hyunjin concludes. 

“It’s going to be messy, though, don’t you think?” You ask with a frown, looking at your reflection in the mirror as you start to take your makeup off, starting by your eyes. “I mean, our relationship is technically fake…” you remind him. 

It had been Hyunjin’s idea - he was going to be your fake boyfriend for the winter holidays so that your family would finally stop being nosy about your love life, especially your aunt. You were against the idea, and tried to tell Hyunjin it would only complicate things, but he’d insisted. He’d insisted so much you eventually gave in. 

“Hey, you could always book me as your fake boyfriend for the next holidays,” he jokes, winking at you, and you roll your eyes at him. 

“Yeah, but think about everything that could go wrong,” you admonish him, while focusing on removing your foundation, throwing the used cotton pad in the trash can and grabbing a clean one. 

“What could go wrong?” Hyunjin approaches the bed, but right before he could sit on it, you snap your head in his direction, nearly breaking your neck in the process, just to glare at him. 

“Don’t you dare sit on the bed while you’re still wearing jeans,” you growl, and Hyunjin’s eyebrows lift in surprise. 

“They’re clean though?” 

“Hyunjin, go change. Now,” you demand, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you, but you don’t care. Your bedroom, your rules.  

“Fine,” he glares at you, then picks up the clean pajama shirt from your bed, “you were saying that things could go wrong before you went all crazy about my jeans touching your bed. Which things?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrug, styling your hair into a messy ponytail as you proceed with your skincare routine, “like, what if you get a girlfriend? What are you gonna tell her, that you can’t spend the holidays with her because you’re busy pretending to be your best friend’s fake boyfriend?”

He doesn’t seem too bothered by the scenario you’ve just described to him. “If I get a girlfriend,” he stresses the first word. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes off his long-sleeved t-shirt, remaining shirtless in the middle of your childhood bedroom. 

“Why wouldn’t you get a girlfriend? You’re smart and hot and you’re an artist - artists do get laid a lot,” you point out, turning to look at him. He’s already put his pajama shirt on.

“Did you just say I’m hot?” Hyunjin inquires, furrowing his eyebrows as he fidgets with the buttons of his tight skinny jeans. He slides them down his legs, then takes them off for good. Even though it’s not awkward for either of you - since you’re pretty comfortable around each other, you still turn your head away to give him at least a little bit of privacy as he changes. 

“I mean, you are,” you shrug, “and I know countless of girls who wo- what the fuck are you doing?” You nearly shout, unable to mask your surprise. 

Hyunjin’s body is turned so that you’re now facing his back, fingers hooked in each side of his boxers. You stopped him right before he could pull them down his thighs and flash you with his naked butt. 

He looks at you over his shoulder. “What? I always sleep without any underwear on,” he shrugs, acting as if it were the most normal thing in the whole world what he was just about to do. “It’s uncomfortable,” he explains. 

“Yah, we- we’re not sharing a bed if you’re not wearing boxers.”

“But it’s uncomf-“

“I don’t care,” you raise your pointer finger in the air as to admonish him. “I know it’s uncomfortable, I sleep without underwear, too. But that’s the rule for tonight - I can’t sleep next to you knowing… knowing you’re not wearing anything underneath your pajamas.” 

Hyunjin’s cock twitches inside his boxers, still limp, when you mention the fact you usually don’t wear panties while sleeping, but he’s quick to brush the thought away. “Why, because you know you’re gonna want to jump my bones?” He teases, wiggling his eyebrows, and you roll your eyes at him. 

“Idiot,” you shake your head, even though deep down you know he’s right. 

That’s why you didn’t want to accept his offer and pretend you two are dating, that’s exactly what you were scared of. The domesticity of it all, the way everything feels almost too real and natural between the two of you, and also the way you’re starting to grow accustomed to Hyunjin’s constant presence around you. You shouldn’t have agreed on this, especially knowing you have the biggest crush on him, it’s only going to complicate things. 

“Besides,” you furrow your eyebrows, “why would you change here when the bathroom’s just across the hall?”

“To be fair I wasn’t gonna change yet, I just wanted to lie down on the bed,” he corrects you, “it’s your fault.”

You’re finally done with your nighttime skincare routine, and you can finally change and go to bed - you’re exhausted and you could really use a good night’s sleep. You grab your pajamas and exit your bedroom. Hyunjin sees you coming back inside the room mere seconds later, still fully clothed, and gives you a questioning look. 

“It’s occupied, I’m gonna change here,” you explain, and he nods understandingly. “Turn around- or close your eyes, I don’t care.” 

“I was gonna point out that I’ve literally seen you in a bathing suit countless of times by now, but I’m not going to,” Hyunjin comments. 

“Wise choice.” 

It’s true, he’s seen you wearing nothing but a bikini plenty of times, but right now you feel like it’s an entirely different thing. First of all, back then you were at the pool, surrounded by all of your closest friends, while now you’re alone in the confines of your old childhood bedroom. He’s already under the covers, and you’re about to strip down and change while being in the same room as he is. It’s domestic. 

Hyunjin does eventually close his eyes and does not peek while you change. However, he catches a glimp of the side of your breasts by accident, then closes his eyes shut once again and tries to ignore the way his dick just twitched for the second time in less than ten minutes, both times because of you. 

Maybe he overestimated himself. Maybe he shouldn’t have proposed such a ridiculous thing to you knowing the big, fat crush he has on you. Being your fake boyfriend sounds incredibly stupid now, as he lies in your bed and tries to not think of how bad he wants to wrap his arms around your waist, pull you closer and crash his lips on yours. 

It gets even worse when you slip under the covers next to him. 

“Can you turn off the lamp on your nightstand?” You ask him, and he promptly nods, reaching for the switch. 

Darkness engulfs the whole room and your figures, but you can still make out each other’s faces thanks to the moonlight. Hyunjin thinks he could paint you, paint this scene. It’s so intimate, the two of you lying next to each other, sharing a bed for the night - for the week. It’s only the first day, there’s no way he’s going to survive the holidays with you without confessing his feelings. 

“Hyunjin?” You call his name with a weak voice. 

“Hm?” He hums, his gaze shifting to your eyes, fighting the urge to pull some strands of hair away from your face. 

“Put those cold ass feet away from me,” you whine.

“Y/N…” he pouts, “but I’m coooold.”

“Wear some socks, then.”

“Y/N, I literally just told you I can’t sleep with my underwear on, what makes you think I’d sleep with socks on?” He rhetorically asks you, and even though the room is dark, he can still see you rolling your eyes at him. 

“Well, don’t put your feet anywhere me, then,” you scold him. 

“But I’m coooold,” he repeats with the same whiny voice, rubbing his feet with yours until you abruptly pull away.

“Hyunjin, I swear to God, if you touch me again with your-“ of course he does it again. “Hyunjin!”

“What? What are you going to do about it?” He challenges when he feels you sit up on the bed. “What-“ he’s cut off by the pillow you just threw at him, hitting him in the face - not hurting him, of course. 

He stares at you dumbfounded, blinking rapidly a couple of times, slightly confused. Then, he reaches for the lamp switch, turning it on. “Did you just… did you just throw your pillow at me?” He asks you, tilting his head to the side. 

“Yes and I would not hesitate to do it again,” you cross your arms over your chest, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. “Serves you right for putting your-“

It’s his turn to hit you with his pillow. 

You look at him surprised, with your mouth agape and raised eyebrows. “You did not just do that.”

“Why? You did it first,” Hyunjin shrugs, unbothered. 

“And I’m gonna do it again,” you hiss, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Wha-“

It doesn’t take long before the two of you start a pillow fight. Kneeling on the bed, you hit him with your pillow and he hits you back, and the room is soon filled with giggles and squeaks. Hyunjin almost knocks your lamp off his nightstand by accident, and swears under his breath - it’s vile and coward, you know it, but you still hit him with the pillow while he’s distracted. You just weren’t expecting him to fall from the bed, landing on the floor with a loud thump. 

“Shit, Hyunjin!” You gasp, dropping your pillow on the bed, quickly kneeling on the edge of the bed and sticking your head out to look at him, sprawled on the floor. “Are you alright?”

“I hate you,” he gives you the side-eye, and you giggle. 

“No, you don’t,” you sing-song, tilting your head to the side, “I’m your bestie, you loooove me.” 

He truly does, but you don’t know it yet. 

“Help me get up, you menace,” he shakes his head while chuckling, sticking his arm out so that you can grab him and help him. Only when you do grab his hand, he just pulls you towards him, which results in you falling from the bed as well. Thankfully, there’s a rug, so you don’t hurt yourself. 

“I can’t believe you, you did that on purpose!”

“Of course I did, you did too!” Hyunjin argues, running his fingers through his hair. 

“I did not!” You argue back, knowing it’s not entirely true. 

He quirks an eyebrow at you. “Really?” He asks. “You literally hit me while I was busy fixing your stupid lamp, you so did that on purpose.”

“Nothing of this,” you start, “would have happened if you didn’t rub your ugly feet on mine.”

He gasps dramatically, feigning offence. “First of all, my feet are not ugly,” he says, “and second of all… shut up.”

You kneel on the floor, looking at him with a frown on your face. “Don’t tell me to shut up, you shut up.”

“Or? You’ve already thrown me on the floor, what are you gonna do next, fly me out the window?” He challenges. 

“Don’t try me, bitch,” you giggle and he laughs along, “but I was thinking of something worse.”

“Worse?” 

“Mh-hm,” you hum, and then proceed to attack him, using his weak spot against him. 

A tickling fight. You’re not ticklish at all, but him? He’s the most ticklish person you’ve ever met - literally folds in two as soon as you start torturing him. He squirms so much in his place you’re actually struggling - to make sure he stays in place and accepts his fate, you climb on his lap, continuing to move your fingers on each of his sides. 

“Stop, please,” Hyunjin manages to say between giggles, but you don’t listen to him, and press down on his body, lifting his t-shirt a bit to tickle his skin directly. “Seriously, stop,” he sounds panicked and his eyes widen. You look at him confused, tilting your head. 

“What’s wrong?”

And then you feel it. He knows you’re feeling it by the way your jaw drops. He covers his face with both of his hands, making whiny sound out of embarrassment. You’re currently sitting on his erection. As in, his hard dick is currently pressing on your clothed pussy, and it’s pulsing as it continues to grow. 

“Hyunjin…” 

“Don’t. Please, don’t say anything,” Hyunjin mumbles, “I might die out of embarrassment if you do, I swear.”

You should probably get off of him. Yes, you should definitely get up and not grind on it. A little huff escapes Hyunjin’s lips when you do. It feels hard and long underneath you, and you can’t help but feel a little curious right now. You wonder what it looks like - you wonder what it feels like. And before you know it, you’re grinding on it once more, the tickling fight you’d started is now long forgotten. 

Hyunjin’s hand comes to rest on your hip when he feels you moving on top of him. “Y/N,” he whines, still covering his eyes with his other hand. You can’t help but notice his cheeks are a little red. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” you bite on your lip as you squirm some more, “it feels nice,” you confess, boldly.

Hyunjin wails. “Oh my God.”

You’re literally sitting on his dick right now, and you just told him you think it’s nice. Is this a wet dream, perhaps? He’s sure he’s had a similar one not too long ago - it was so vivid, so realistic he’d woken up in a pool of sweat and was forced to shove his hand in his pants and relieve himself because his stupid boner just wouldn’t go away. 

His length twitches, and Hyunjin swears he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 

“Oh,” you gasp at the feeling. 

“Yeah, ‘m sorry,” he still won’t look at you, as he bites on his lip. 

You don’t get up. He doesn’t ask you to. 

He only speaks up when he feels you grinding on his erection once again, now placing his other hand on your other hip, finally finding in himself the courage to look into your eyes. “I- I think you shouldn’t do… that,” he clears his throat.

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to the side and looking at him confused. 

Hyunjin blinks at you. Is he sure this is not a dream? 

“Oh, no,” he chuckles, shaking his head and you feel your heart drop. He sees your face and he’s quick to add, “I like it, I do. A little too much maybe. That’s the problem.”

“You do?”

You look so innocent right now, you sound so innocent. Hyunjin wants nothing more than to find the courage to tell you. It couldn’t be any more embarrassing than getting hard while in the middle of a tickling fight, right? 

“I- I mean… of course I like it,” he clears his throat once more, then drops his gaze to where you’re sitting on top of him. “The girl I’m in love with is sitting on my dick right now, I’d be crazy not to like it.”

He did it, he finally did it. Part of him is proud of himself, while a small voice in the back of his brain is yelling “pabo!” at him right now. 

“The girl… the girl you’re in love with?” Your breath hitches, your heartbeat speeds up. It’s so loud you bet Hyunjin can feel it from there. “As in… me?”

“Is there another girl sitting on my dick right now?” You slap his shoulder. “Ow!”

“Sorry, it’s just… I can’t believe you’re in love me,” you confess, your own cheeks heating up. 

“Well I take it back, I’m not anymore. Ow,” he whines, rubbing his shoulder. 

You quickly lean in to place a kiss right on the spot where you slapped him. “No, no, no, don’t take it back, I’m sorry,” you place two, three, four kisses on his shoulder, “I’m in love with you too,” you mumble, your voice is muffled by his pajama shirt. 

He freezes under your touch, but relaxes immediately after, his arm circling your waist as he pulls you closer. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of his skin mixed with the one of the cologne he wears. “You are?”

“Of course I am, you pabo,” you giggle, nuzzling his shirt, “I thought I was being so obvious tonight at dinner. I was all over you.”

“I thought you were acting, you know,” Hyunjin mumbles, running his fingers up and down your spine, “like, to convince your family or something.”

“Nope, it was aaaall true.”

“Even when you kissed me under the mistletoe?” Hyunjin can’t help but ask, remembering how good it felt when your lips met his and how it wished it’d never end. 

“Especially then.”

Hyunjin’s slender and delicate fingers cup your face, and force you to look at him. It only lasts a few seconds, though - he swallows the lump in his throat, licks his lips and then he finally kisses you. He kisses you with so much passion and impatience that you both somehow forget you’re still laying on your bedroom floor - you don’t care right now, though, not when Hyunjin’s running his hot tongue along your lower lip. 

It’s when you pull away from each other that Hyunjin begins to kiss your jaw, then your neck, scraping the flesh with his teeth careful not to leave any mark though - he wouldn’t want any of your relatives to point it out tomorrow night at the Christmas dinner. His cock is still hard and still resting between your legs, right on your pussy, and you can’t help but press down on it looking for some form of friction to ease the tingling feeling between your legs. You’re sure your panties are sticky with your arousal by now. 

“Hyunjin…” you huff, wrapping your fingers around his wrists as he now kisses your collarbone. 

“Hm?”

“Can we… do it?”

His cock throbs, his kisses stop. 

“Do you… do you want to do it? Right now?” He mumbles against your skin. A shiver runs down his spine when you run your fingers through his hair. 

You nod. “You’re hard and I’m… I’m wet for you,” you admit and he involuntarily jerks his hips upwards. You both gasp. 

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he mumbles a quick apology, before lifting his head to meet your eyes once more. He wants to be sure you’re sure, that you want this too, that you want him as much as he wants you. “Are you sure you want me? That you wanna do this with me?”

“I’m sure.”

Hyunjin nods. “Okay, okay. Let’s get on the bed the-“

“No!” You interrupt him, and he furrows his brows at you, “I mean… that bed is really old, we’re gonna make so much noise,” you explain. “Here.”

“Here?” Hyunjin asks you. “On the floor?”

You nod. “I kinda need you now.”

It happens so fast you’re not really registering what’s going on. In a matter of seconds, you manage to take off your pajama pants with the help of Hyunjin, whose eyes roll in the back of his head at the sight of your naked pussy. Then, you help him slide his pants down his legs, and he finally whips his dick out. It’s as pretty as you’d imagined it, maybe more. Longer than average, that’s for sure, and maybe not too thick, but definitely the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. 

“Foreplay?” He asks you, and you shake your head as a no. “You sure?”

“Yeah, ‘m really wet. Feel,” you encourage him, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and allowing him to finally touch you. 

His jaw drops in awe at the feeling of your arousal coating his fingers. “Mhh, for me?”

You nod. “For you.”

Hyunjin bites his lip and wraps his own fingers around the base of his neglected cock, and the both of you gasp and whine when he slides his cockhead up and down your wet folds. And then, he’s pressing at your entrance, ready to slip inside of your heat. 

“Oh,” you gasp at the feeling of him filling you up with his hard length. It’s a stretch, yes, but it’s also a very pleasant feeling, having him inside of you. 

He rests his hand on your hip once he bottoms out, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. You feel exactly like he thought you would, it’s unreal. Maybe he should pinch his arm and check this really isn’t a dream. 

He helps you with your movements, guiding your hips up and down his length - slowly, just how he likes it. It allows him to feel every inch of your tight pussy squeezing his cock, and he holds back a moan. His hips snap up to meet yours, his cock reaching an even deeper spot inside of you, and you whine. It’s the most beautiful sound in the world to him. 

You place your hands on his chest as you move up and down his length - waiting for the moment only his tip is inside before sinking down, taking all of him inside of you. “Like that, you’re perfect, oh my God,” Hyunjin says though labored breaths, biting his lip as he feels you clenching around him. He cups your asscheek with one of his hands, squeezing the soft flesh underneath his fingers. “Yeah, li- like that,” he encourages you, “you’re so wet, I can’t believe this is all for me.”

“It’s all for you, Hyune, it’s yours. I’m yours,” you whimper. 

Hyunjin chokes a moan. “Mine? You’re mine? Yeah, yeah, you are, of course you are,” he’s rambling at this point, feeling close to emptying himself inside of you. “‘M never gonna let you go, you’re stuck with me now.”

You nod, bouncing on his cock, albeit slowly - the filthy, squelching sounds that are filling the room drive both you and Hyunjin crazy. “And you’re stuck with me.”

“My pleasure,” Hyunjin chuckles, “I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”

You smile at him, and are about to say something when the feeling of your impending orgasm cuts you off. “Hyune, ‘m…” you whine, “‘m about to-“

Hyunjin promptly lifts himself up so that you’re both in a sitting position now, and he’s quick to kiss your lips to muffle your moans as you cum around him. The feelings is indescribable, it makes him want to never stop fucking you. He intertwines his fingers in your hair, placing small pecks on your mouth as you catch your breath, riding out your high. 

“‘M close, too. Where- where can I-“

“Inside, Hyune, inside,” you answer without thinking twice, and maybe you should have.

With his eyes rolled back and his mouth agape, he releases inside of you mere seconds later, filling you up with his warm semen, giving a couple of shallow thrusts to ride it out completely. He lies back down on the floor, chest rising and falling quickly. He feels you rest your head on his torso, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as he kisses your head. He’s still inside of you. 

“Maybe we should…” he starts, still feeling a bit dizzy, “maybe we should clean ourselves up before it start to… you know, leak.”

“Yep, definitely,” you kiss his chest, “my mom’s gonna kill you if your cum stains the rug,” you giggle. 

Hyunjin feels absolutely complete as he slides under the covers and wraps his limbs around you a couple of minutes later, kissing your shoulder as he intertwines his fingers with yours. You’re about to finally fall asleep when you hear his voice.

“So I’m assuming it won’t bother you anymore if I touch you with my cold ass feet now?”

🎄

-> 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐮𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭! “𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧” 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝

Early morning sex with Felix

"You're so pretty” Felix coos as he watches you try your best not to smile at the compliment. “Awww baby don't pretend you're asleep.” He giggles a little before he begins to speak again, his voice dropping low “Should I find a way to wake you up?"

"Five more minutes," you groan as you turn to shove your face under the blanket, shielding your eyes from the blinding light of the morning sun shining through the curtains. The mixture of Felix's cedar cologne and floral shampoo wafting up as you move the blanket.

Felix dives under the blanket next to you, his glazed over eyes meeting yours causing a soft grin to appear on your face. You lay there staring and grinning at each other for what felt like twenty minutes, in reality it was no more than two. You shove a pillow into his face, "Don't smile at me like that, you're driving me crazy," you whine. He moves the pillow out of his face and pulls you close.

"Mmm c'mere” he hums “let me play with your hair some more.” Felix pauses, almost as if in thought then he continues his sentence “Y'know my clothes look better on you than they do on me." You were too flustered to say anything, with this he decides to continue, "You were great last night," he whispers in your ear. You turn away from him, burying your heated face in your pillow. Felix takes advantage of this and pulls you in by your waist so that your back is pressed against his chest. "Pretty girl~"

"Felix" you try to warn, but it comes out as a whimper.

"What baby?" His voice laced with pity. You then back up against him, grinding on his morning wood. Felix places a hand on your hip, his fingers sinking into your skin. “Is that what you want, hm? Tell me you want it, gorgeous"

"Please, I want it."

"Good girl." Felix loosens his grip and pulls down your panties, then slips his hand in his boxers and pulls out his hard cock, Felix leads it to your entrance, letting out a groan as he slips it in you. Your wet, velvet walls tight around him

"So fucking good, honey." He slips his hand under your shirt fondling your breast as he continues to roll his hips into you.

These kinds of mornings were by far your favorite.

'*•.¸♡ off-road ride ♡¸.•*'

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

lee minho x fem!reader

a result of the poll win! (car sex w minho)

summary: you and minho are on your way to meet up with your friends, but get distracted along the way.

wc: 3k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, established relationship, dom!minho, brat!reader, a lot of teasing, fingering (f. rec), rough sex, spanking, safeword mentioned (not used), piv, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, choking, overstim, begging, (lmk if i missed any)

a/n: i've been realizing that the poll has been going in age order so far, so i might just release all of the fics in age order to keep the pattern going. also i loved writing this, hopefully next time i can write a fluffier minho smut!!

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The winding roads blurred past as Minho deftly steered the car, the engine's purr adding a soundtrack to your animated voice. Your friend's laughter was bubbling over and filling the car with cheerful energy as you spoke on the phone.

“Mmm, no, we should totally do that next weekend,” you were saying, still chuckling at a joke your friend had made. “I just think we should invite the whole group.”

Lee Know’s jaw tightened. He knew you had been out and about with your friends lately, and he didn’t want to be jealous, but... he was. It felt like you were paying more attention to everyone else lately than to him.

“We’re so close now,” you said, leaning over to Minho to point at the map. You had meticulously planned the route and confidently guided him whenever needed. “Maybe about fifteen minutes away, I'd say.”

“Great,” Minho replied, his voice low and warm, though his eyes betrayed a hint of irritation as he kept glancing at you.

“Hey, hold on, my phone’s going crazy.” You pulled the phone away from your ear, glancing down at the screen. Your eyes went wide, and you started giggling, turning back to look at Minho with a playful smile.

“What?” he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Oh, it’s just my friend being ridiculous.”

“Mm. I can’t leave them hanging, then, right?”

“I guess not.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m still here. We’re so close now.”

“Are you?” your friend purred from the other end, causing you to laugh again.

“Okay, not that close.” You glanced over at Minho, smiling, before focusing on the road.

“Are you sure? Because I was thinking maybe you’d like to come over after the party…”

“Hmmm, and why is that?” You were grinning now, unable to help yourself.

“Well, there’s this guy that’s been flirting with me, and I don’t really like him that way, but I don’t know how to let him down. I was hoping you’d come over and help me out.”

“What’s your plan?” You bit your lip, glancing over at Minho, who was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white.

“Well, if you’d be willing to kiss me for a while, that might get the message across.”

“You want me to kiss you?” You widened your eyes, Minho’s head snapping towards you, before quickly looking back at the road as if he were pretending he totally wasn’t listening.

You didn’t realize how bad it could sound out of context, and Minho’s frustration was evident.

“Haha, you know I was joking, girl. I’m just not good at confrontation, and I know you are. You know how to bite back at people.”

“I’m not so sure that’s what you meant, but if you need some help, then I’ll be happy to come over.”

“Awesome, thanks. So, I can’t wait to meet Lee Know. You talk about him all the time; he sounds really sweet.” Her tone was sweeter and more sincere.

Suddenly, you felt a warm hand gently land on your thigh, the touch sending a shiver down your spine as it traced teasing patterns on the exposed skin where your skirt had ridden up. Minho's touch was deliberate, and you could feel the heat radiating from his fingers as they traced teasing patterns on your skin.

You turned your head to stare at Minho, whose gaze was locked on the road ahead. His face was impassive, but there was a steely edge to his eyes that betrayed his annoyance.

“Um, yeah,” you managed, feeling Minho’s hand slip higher up your thigh. “He’s great.”

“What’s going on? You okay?” your friend asked, her concern evident in her voice as she picked up on your distracted tone.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, gasping quietly as Minho’s fingers gripped your inner thigh, his touch becoming more insistent.

You grabbed Lee Know’s misbehaving hand before it could go any further. His touch was electrifying, and despite your attempts to focus on the conversation, the heat of his fingers was impossible to ignore.

“Uh, I just... got distracted,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice steady. “We’re almost there, so maybe I should call you back later?”

“Sure, no problem,” your friend agreed, her tone tinged with concern. “Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do,” you replied, ending the call quickly. As soon as the phone disconnected, Minho’s hand withdrew, and he turned to you with a look of feigned innocence.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deceptively casual as he focused on the road ahead.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you shot back, glaring at him but with a teasing glint in your eyes. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Minho said, his lips curling into a playful pout. “I guess I just didn’t like hearing my girlfriend sounding all flirty on the phone with someone else.”

You tried to hold back a laugh, your irritation melting into amusement. “Minho, she was joking with me.”

“Yeah, well,” Minho said, his tone softening as he glanced at you with a hint of vulnerability. “I just want your attention too.”

Your heart melted at his words. The way he looked at you, so earnest and a bit pouty, was impossible to resist.

You grabbed one of his hands, guiding it back to rest on your leg. You could see the way his breath caught in his throat as he realized what you were doing.

His fingers slowly inched up your skirt, brushing over your heated skin. You trembled, attempting to stay quiet as Minho's hands caressed your bare thighs, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body.

"Baby," you murmured, "I can't have you driving off the road because you're distracted."

"I'm not distracted," Minho insisted, his fingers dancing along the edge of your panties. "I'm focused."

"Really?" You arched an eyebrow, glancing over at him.

"Mm-hmm." His fingers slipped beneath the lace of your panties, brushing against your sensitive flesh.

You gasped, grabbing his wrist to try and still his movements. "Minho," you warned, a slight tremor in your voice.

"What's wrong, baby? Didn't you want me to do this?" he asked, his voice dripping with mock innocence as he slid his finger along your slit.

"Min," you hissed, squeezing your thighs together. The friction of his fingers sent shivers of pleasure through your body, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan.

"That's right," he said. "Don't forget, you're mine."

"Yours," you gasped, arching against him as his finger flicked at your clit.

The sensation was almost too much, and you had to fight the urge to writhe in your seat.

"Good," Minho said, his voice rough with arousal as he pressed his finger deeper, sliding it inside you.

Your head fell back, and you closed your eyes, lost in the feeling of his touch.

"You're so wet," Minho teased. "Just from me touching your thigh?"

"Mm," you whimpered, gripping the armrest as Minho's finger curled inside you.

"Only pay attention to me," he commanded.

You shivered at his possessive words, your back arching against the chair.

"Shit," he murmured, his eyes struggling to stay on the road. "You make me want to pull the car over and fuck you right here."

Your breath hitched, and your core tightened at his words. "Do it," you challenged, your voice shaky.

"What?" he asked, glancing at you briefly.

"Pull the car over," you repeated, "and fuck me."

Minho sucked in a sharp breath, his grip on the steering wheel tightening with tension.

"Don't tempt me," he warned, his voice husky.

"Please," you begged, your body craving his touch. "I want you, Min."

"Be patient," he warned, his finger curling up into you and hitting you in the perfect spot.

You moaned, your head falling back against the seat. "I can't," you whined, your hips rolling against his hand.

"You can, and you will," he said, his thumb brushing over your clit as his index and middle fingers worked their way into you.

"Min, I need it," you groaned, your hips grinding against his hand, seeking relief.

Minho breathed, his fingers thrusting deeper into you, "You're so desperate for me."

"Please," you pleaded, "I'm desperate, I can't hold on."

"You're lucky I'm even entertaining you now," Minho said, his cock obviously hard in his pants.

You could feel the tension in his body and the way his fingers moved inside you with a renewed fervor.

"Don't pretend like you're not just as turned on," you teased, your fingers gripping the armrest as his hand began to pick up its pace.

"I am," Minho conceded, "but I have a little more self-control than you."

"Don't have self-control," you groaned, your hips rocking against his hand as you sought release.

"You're a little slut for my cock, aren't you? Can't even wait." He smirked.

You bit your lip, unable to argue, as his fingers thrust deeper inside you.

"Just give me what I want, Min," you whined, the pressure building in your core.

"So impatient," he said, his fingers curling again, repeatedly hitting the same spot.

You gasped, your back arching as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

"Minho," you pleaded.

"Let go," he commanded, his thumb teasing your clit with purpose.

You cried out, your orgasm crashing over you as his fingers worked you through your high, feeling yourself clench over his fingers.

You whimpered, the aftershocks of your climax making your body tremble with desire.

Minho pulled his hand away, his breath shaky as he brought his fingers up to your mouth.

"Lick it up," he said, his voice low and commanding.

You obliged, licking the salty-sweet taste from his fingers.

"Good girl," he praised, his cock visibly twitching in his pants.

Your body is still aching for him inside of you; just the sight of it makes your mouth water.

"Fuck me," you pleaded. "Please."

Minho shook his head. "I can't do this here, not yet. We're almost there."

"But,"

"Behave and wait," he commanded, his voice firm and unwavering.

You squirmed in your seat, the lingering burn of desire coursing through your body.

"Stop acting like a brat," he scolded.

Your hand meets his thigh now, trailing up.

"Oh, but what if I am?"

"Stop trying to rile me up," he said, his voice like a warning.

You grinned, enjoying the effect you had on him.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll spank you," he threatened, his eyes locking on the road.

You bit your lip, feeling a mischievous idea taking shape in your mind.

"Pull the car over and do it, then," you teased, your hand reaching out to brush against the bulge in his pants, tracing a line down.

Minho hissed, his hips involuntarily jerking against your touch.

"We're going to be late," he warned.

"Let's be late, then."

Minho let out a breath, his knuckles white on the steering wheel as he struggled to maintain control.

"If I pull the car over now, you're going to regret it later."

You bit your lip, playing with your seatbelt.

"Is that a promise?"

"Fine," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You want to be fucked so bad, then let's fucking do it."

He pulled the car over to the side of the road, putting the car in park, right on a dirt path with only a single tree covering the view.

He unbuckled your seatbelt and picked you up to lay across his lap.

He lifted your skirt and yanked your panties down, and you could feel his erection straining against his pants.

You gasped, feeling the cool air against your ass, exposed and ready.

"You remember the safeword, correct?"

You nodded, a shiver of excitement running down your spine.

"Beg," he ordered, his voice rough and commanding.

"Please," you pleaded, your voice desperate. "Please, fuck me."

"Again."

"Min, please," you moaned, the friction of his cock rubbing against your sensitive spots driving you crazy. "Please, I want your cock. I need it."

"Tell me what a slut you are."

"I'm... " You inhaled sharply, a mix of sensations flooding you as his hand made contact, your thoughts clouding with each touch.

"Say it," he insisted, his hand massaging your reddened cheeks and his fingers pressing into your tender skin.

"I'm your slut," you moaned, the shame and humiliation only making the heat between your legs grow.

"Good girl," he praised, his hand caressing the curve of your ass.

You whimpered, the sensation overwhelming as he teased you.

When he readjusted you to sit in your lap, the sting was evident.

He undid his pants and let his cock spring free. He was huge and throbbing, a bead of precum glistening at the tip.

You couldn't help but stare at the sight of his cock, which sent a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You needed him, you wanted him, and you could barely hold back.

"Fuck me," you whined, desperate for him to fill you up.

He took his time, his cock grinding against your wetness, coating the length of him in your arousal.

"Please," you begged, his cock brushing against your clit, the sensation making you gasp.

"Patient," he warned, his hips rolling forward as his cock rubbed against your folds.

You moaned, the friction against your clit driving you crazy.

"I need you," you pleaded, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable.

He sighed out, the head of his cock finally pressing against your entrance.

You gasped, your body trembling with anticipation as he slowly pushed into you.

The stretch was almost too much, but the pain mixed with pleasure was intoxicating. You whimpered, your walls clenching around him.

You moaned, the sensation of his cock filling you up nearly driving you over the edge.

"Minho, fuck, please move." you pleaded after a few seconds of him settling inside you.

His eyes hit yours like daggers, his stare sharp. "You wanted my cock so bad, so you're going to do it yourself."

You blinked at him, not fully comprehending what he meant.

Minho grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down his shaft.

Your eyes widened, realizing what he meant. You began to move your hips up a little, your hands laid on his chest for support.

"There we go," he cooed, his fingers digging into your hips as you rode him. "Just like that."

You bit your lip, the feeling of his cock hitting you in all the right places driving you crazy.

Leaning forward, he captured your mouth in a hungry kiss. You moaned into his mouth as his cock hit your walls perfectly, eliciting a deep pleasure.

Lee Know broke the kiss, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling your head back.

He kissed your neck, biting the sensitive skin. The pleasure and pain mingled together, making you cry out.

"Keep going," he instructed, his tongue tracing a path along your jawline.

You obeyed, persisting in moving your hips as he drove his cock into you, the angle enabling him to penetrate even deeper.

You moaned, the sensation becoming almost unbearable.

Suddenly, you felt his hand lightly wrap around your neck, the pressure adding to the overwhelming pleasure.

You gasped, the sensation sending a powerful jolt through your body when he lightly squeezed, just enough to drive you wild.

You felt the pressure intensifying, your inner walls starting to flutter around his throbbing cock. Your breathing quickened as you felt yourself nearing the edge, the combination of his touch and the intense stimulation pushing you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With one final, deep thrust, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you as you reached your peak, your body wracked with waves of intense pleasure.

Your hips jerked, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you collapsed against him, completely spent.

Minho grabbed at your hips, continuing to pound deeper into you, his movements becoming more frantic as he chased his own release.

His breathing grew ragged, his hands gripping you tight as he fucked you with renewed vigor, his cock hitting your walls in just the right place, causing tears to form in your eyes from the overstimulation.

Finally, with a moan, his body tensed, his cock twitching inside you as he spilled his release.

After a moment, he pulled out, his breathing heavy as lay his head against the headrest.

Your legs were trembling from the overstimulation, your face was flushed with a tear streaming down, and your hair was tousled.

Not to mention you now had marks on your neck and ass.

You were too tired to move, it felt like your body turned into lead.

He held you in his arms, brushing his fingers through your hair.

You closed your eyes and let the sound of his heartbeat lull you to sleep.

-

"Hey, are you okay?"

You opened your eyes, your vision blurred.

"Huh?"

You looked around and realized you were in your own bed, not the car.

You glanced over at Minho, his gaze soft as he watched you.

"What happened?" you asked, still disoriented.

"You fell asleep on me," he chuckled. "This is why I suggested we don't go all the way..."

The realization fully hit you, you picked up your phone to find multiple messages from your friends telling you to 'get better soon' and others asking where you were.

"Sorry for getting carried away," you apologized, looking down, and feeling slightly embarrassed.

Minho grabbed your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours.

"It's okay, it was worth it."

You looked at him, his eyes full of affection.

You smiled, squeezing his hand.

"I love you."

You leaned over, placing a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you, too."

He returned the gesture, pulling you close.

The two of you stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, until Minho's phone began to vibrate.

He glanced at it, sighing.

"It's Chan again."

"We should get going," you said, not wanting to keep them waiting any longer.

"Are you sure about that?" he asked, with the cocky look on his face back again.

You tried to sit up but immediately felt your body protest, the soreness kicking in.

"Fuck," you muttered, flopping back down onto the mattress.

"I did warn you," he smirked, his hands rubbing at your sore legs.

"Don't touch me," you said, trying to swat his hand away.

He laughed, kissing your forehead.

"Don't be mad, I told you this was a bad idea."

You frowned, your heart melting a little at his cute gesture.

"You win."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞—𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: You and Hyunjin have been together for 8 months now and both of you are getting serious as you go. One evening when you were at Hyunjin's place, he finds out that, it's your first time...

Warnings: Smut🔞, protected sex (for once xD), experienced Hyunjin, reader is inexperienced and a bit nervous, loss of virginity, reader is called Angel, slow and soft sex, intimate, lots of kisses, oral (f.receiving), fingering, pet names, holding hands. Love Love Love⁠♡ Minors do not interract!!! Note: I'm always writing kind of rough(?) one shots, so this time it's a soft one. It's my first time writing something of this type, and again, I'm exploring, so bear with me xD.

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count:6.5k (My hands lost control. I'm sorry lmfao-) 𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The fragrance of freshly bloomed flowers lingered around the boutique, filling Hyunjin's senses as he waited patiently for the girl behind the counter to wrap a neat dozen of red roses.

"That'll be fifteen dollars," The girl said as she handed the bouquet to Hyunjin.

"Thank you," He said, paying for the flowers, holding the delicate bouquet in his hands and softly smiling at the girl before exiting the boutique.

He walked to his car, unlocking the door and got in the driver's side, placed the bouquet on the passenger seat and drove over to your apartment.

Ten minutes later he arrived and pulled up near the sidewalk, he took the bouquet and got out of the car, pulling his phone out to text you.

Me: Hey Angel, I'm here ^^

Her<3: Hey Hyunne!! I'll be down in 2 mins!

He received a series of red heart emojis from you, he chuckled as he looked at his phone and slipped it back into his pocket and held the flowers behind him.

Two minutes after you came out of your apartment building, you immediately saw Hyunjin and ran towards him, falling into his open arm.

"Hyunneee!" You squealed, excited, happy to see him, Hyunjin's arm wrapped around you, kissing the top of your head.

"Hey baby,"

He brought the bouquet out from his back while you were in his arms, your eyes widened with surprise as you looked at the bouquet he was holding.

"Happy 8 months" Hyunjin said cutely as he looked at you smiling, your eyes sparkled at him then fell back on the roses, your fingers brushing against his as you took it.

"Aww Hyunne, you do this every month" You said, Hyunjin’s eyes softening as he watched your face light up with joy.

The gentle breeze tousled his dark hair as he smiled down at you, his gaze warm and tender. His heart swelled seeing the way you carefully cradled the bouquet, as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“You deserve it every month,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice low and filled with affection.

His hand reached out to tuck a stray strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your cheek as his thumb traced gentle circles on your skin. Your cheeks flushed at his words, and you bit your lip to hide the wide grin threatening to break free.

The scent of the roses mingled with the familiar warmth of Hyunjin’s embrace, creating a moment that felt almost dreamlike.

"I have something for you too," You said cutely grinning, that made him playfully narrow his eyes.

"What is it—" You cut him short, tip toeing and pressed your lips on his.

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in surprise, but it only took a heartbeat for him to respond, his playful demeanour melting into something more intense. His hand moved to cup your face, fingers slipping into your hair as he deepened the kiss.

Your breath hitched as the kiss grew fiercer, your heart pounding in your chest. His touch was both gentle and demanding, like he was trying to memorise every curve of your lips, every small gasp you made.

The roses in your hand were momentarily forgotten as you reached up, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing to feel the solidity of him against you.

Hyunjin’s other hand found your waist, drawing you even closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The intensity of his kiss sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a warmth spreading through you, igniting a fire that only he could spark.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady your racing hearts. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his gaze locking onto yours with a look so full of love it made your knees feel weak.

“Angel,” He whispered, his voice husky and filled with emotion. “You always know how to leave me speechless.”

You smiled, your eyes glimmering with the same intensity reflected in his. “I just wanted to remind you how much I love you, Hyunne.”

He let out a soft laugh, his breath warm against your skin. “You don’t have to remind me,” he murmured, his lips grazing yours in a featherlight touch.

“I feel it every time I look at you.”

His words wrapped around your heart, filling you with a sense of contentment. The air between you crackled with unspoken promises and the undeniable connection that seemed to pull you closer, again and again.

"Shall we go to my place?" He asked, placing his hand on the small of your back.

"Yes of course," You nodded, smiling softly, Hyunjin guided you to the passenger seat of his car and opened the door for you, you settled in the plush, leather interior.

He got into the driver's seat and started the engine, it roared to life and you took off on stretching roads, going to his penthouse. And throughout the drive, his hand was on your thigh.

Once you both reached, Hyunjin parked his car in the private parking space and you both headed to his penthouse. Once you entered his home, you were immediately enveloped by the warm, inviting atmosphere.

The space was modern and stylish, yet it carried his personal touch—soft lighting, art on the walls, and the subtle scent of his cologne lingering in the air.

The bouquet of roses still rested delicately in your hands, their vibrant red petals a striking contrast to the neutral tones of his home.

“Make yourself comfortable,” He said softly, his voice full of warmth as he walked over to you. His hand found its way back to the small of your back, guiding you further into the living room. “I’ll put these in water.”

You nodded, giving him a small smile as he took the bouquet from you. As he disappeared into the kitchen, you found yourself gravitating towards the large floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline.

Hyunjin soon returned, a crystal vase in his hands filled with the roses you’d cherished all evening. He placed the vase on the coffee table, the flowers adding a touch of colour and romance to the room. He turned to you, his eyes soft as they met yours.

“How about some wine?” he suggested, his voice low and intimate. You smiled, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over you. “I’d love that.”

Hyunjin moved to the small bar in the corner of the room, his movements fluid and graceful. You watched as he selected a bottle of wine, expertly uncorked it, and poured two glasses, the deep red liquid catching the light as it swirled in the glass.

He handed you a glass, his fingers brushing against yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “To us,” he murmured, raising his glass to yours.

“To us,” You echoed, clinking your glass against his.

The first sip of wine was smooth and rich, and you sighed contentedly as the warmth spread through you. Hyunjin’s eyes never left yours, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

Both of you sat down on his plush sofa, you sank into its softness as Hyunjin settled in beside you. He turned slightly, facing you fully, resting his hand over your shoulder. The warmth of his touch seeped through the fabric of your clothes, grounding you in the moment.

He took another sip of his wine before setting his glass down on the table.

For the next thirty to forty minutes the two of you were talking about your week, upcoming plans. You were the one who was doing most of the talking but still Hyunjin listened to you attentively, he could listen to you talk without getting bored for the rest of his life.

"So, then I told her..." You continued spilling the tea to him but then his hand snaked around your waist, pulling you into him.

"Yeah yeah I know, Angel," Hyunjin's face dipped in your neck, inhaling your sweet perfume and placing a hot wet kiss on your neck and shoulder. You didn't stop him. You loved how he was so clingy with you, how he always wanted to shower you with his kisses.

"This is the third time you told me the same story," He said, looking up from your neck grinning, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, your fingers going through his hair.

"Sorryyy," You said, he got up from your neck still grinning, his hands going down to your thigh, gently squeezing it which made you inhale a slow breath.

Hyunjin has been trying to be more intimate now that you guys were getting more serious with your relationship, but of course, he didn't push you too far until you yourself told him that you were ready to take things further.

But here's the thing. You've never had sex. OH.

And you felt embarrassed of the fact that you've been a virgin for so long. You knew Hyunjin would never judge you, yet you felt embarrassed admitting to him about it.

Although you also knew, when you're with Hyunjin, he will treat you with love and will take care of you. But you still felt nervous and since you've never been with anyone before him, you were worried about whether you were truly ready to take that next step. Your body craved him but your mind was nervous.

The thought had been lingering at the back of your mind for a while, a mix of excitement and nerves swirling together. Maybe today, you are ready to take things further.

Your breathing seemed to increase as Hyunjin touched your wrist, a worried expression spread across his face, his brows drawing in together when he felt your pulse race.

“Angel?" He whispered, his voice gentle as he brushed a thumb over your cheek.

You looked at him with a thousand thoughts rushing in your brain. It's been eight months now. You felt like it was better to tell him than keep it to yourself any longer.

Hyunjin cared for you, loved you a lot and you loved him just as much, his presence was like a balm to your nerves. There's no way he'll not understand.

"Hyunjin," You grazed your index finger over the veins of his hand resting on your thigh, taking a deep breath. You felt the rise and fall of Hyunjin's chest as he patiently waited for you to speak.

"Yeah?" He asked, his expression softening.

"I've never..." A lump formed in your throat. "done...it, before." You paused. Oh no, what is he going to think?

You looked at him again and searched his eyes for any sign of judgement or impatience. But then all you found was a soft expression and what looked like a bit of shock.

"You mean..." Hyunjin trailed off but he knew exactly what you were saying.

You nodded, feeling your cheeks flush, a deep scarlet spreading across your face. The words had taken so much courage to say, and now that they were out in the open, you couldn’t help but feel a bit vulnerable.

Hyunjin’s heart skipped a beat as the reality of your confession settled in. A part of him had suspected it, but hearing you say the words aloud still caught him off guard.

He blinked, trying to process the emotions swirling inside him—surprise, tenderness, and an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.

"Angel..." He said, his voice soothing. Your eyes broke from his gaze, falling onto the tiles on the floor, your stomach twisted with a mix of nervousness and so much embarrassment. You couldn't look at him.

"Sweetheart, don't look away from me," He said, his voice full of sincerity. "Talk to me"

His fingers touched your chin and brought your face up to meet his eyes. You looked at him again, feeling a rush of emotions swirl in your heart and mind. Hyunjin watched you with understanding, a tiny smile tugging the corner of his lips.

"You have no idea how much it means to me. That you're trusting me with this." His thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen.

"You don’t ever have to feel embarrassed or shy with me. I’m honoured that I’m the first, and I promise I’ll take care of you."

You could see the sincerity in his gaze as he spoke, the way he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. It made you feel safe and your heart swelled with emotion for him.

“I’m just...I’m worried I’ll mess something up,” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Hyunjin shook his head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Angel, you could never disappoint me,” He murmured. “This isn’t about doing everything perfectly."

He cupped your face, his heart racing. "Tell me, do you want to do this? We don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." He said reassuringly.

As much as he wanted you, Hyunjin kept his desires to himself. Locking them away until you gave him the word. He searched your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation, his thumb gently brushing your cheek.

You swallowed hard. A second or two later you nodded slowly, the nerves bubbling but you knew you wanted this. You were comfortable with him and your life has gotten so much better after meeting him. You knew you were ready.

"Use your words sweetheart, are you sure?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the fluttering in your chest. His eyes, full of warmth, held yours with a quiet intensity that made you feel seen, heard, and cherished.

“Yes,” You whispered, your voice soft but sure.

“I’m sure, Hyunjin. I want this. With you."

A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he caressed your cheek. “We’ll take it slow," He reassured, his voice tender. "And if at any point you want to stop, we stop. No questions, no pressure."

His words eased the lingering tension in your body, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

He leaned down and took your mouth in his, he could feel the lingering taste of wine on your lips as he swiped the tongue over the seam, dominating but slowly, his hand cupping the back of your neck.

Your hands fisted his hoodie, your tongues were almost against each other, teeth against teeth, Hyunjin slowly guided his hands down your back and pulled you onto his lap.

You straddled him and locked your legs around his waist, softly moaning into his mouth, not breaking apart.

Hyunjin slowly got up, holding you against him and carried you to his bedroom. Once he reached, he twisted the door unlock and entered his dimly lit room, kicking the door shut behind him and walking to his bed, gently laying you on the mattress, pulling apart.

The mattress dipped beneath your weights as Hyunjin stood on his knees and pulled his hoodie over his head, he was wearing a tight white tank top underneath.

You looked up at him, taking in the sight of his beautiful physique, the defined muscles of his chest and arms, it began sending electrifying sensations though your body.

"I'm asking again, Angel." His eyes bore into yours with an intensity mixed with desire and concern. "Do you want to do this?"

"Yes Hyunne," You said breathlessly. "I'm ready. For you."

Hyunjin hummed approvingly, tracings his long fingers over your face, jawline and your bottom lip, down to the hollow of your throat.

You tried to steady your breaths, breathing in slowly as Hyunjin's fingers mapped across your clothed body. He was watching you intensely, helping you relax under the tingles of his fingertips.

"Just relax, baby, okay? Tell me to stop if you want me to stop," He leaned down and pressed his lips on the corner of your mouth.

"Okay..." You said softly, your eyes locking with his, fully trusting him. The trust and anticipation filled in your eyes as you looked at him made him feel like he got punched in the soul.

Hyunjin nodded smiling and reached to the hem of your sweatshirt and removed it through your head leaving you bare with just your pink lace bra.

He couldn't help suppress his smile as he watched your cheeks flush, being so exposed beneath him. The furthest you both have gone is light petting on his couch and your bedroom. Tonight, it's going to change.

"You're so beautiful, my love," He said as he gently placed his palm on your stomach, causing you to hitch a breath. He looked at you but you placed your hand on top of his, indicating him not to stop.

His hand slowly went up your stomach till he reached the swell of your breasts, they were hidden behind the fabric of your bra. Hyunjin wanted to rip it off, close his mouth around your nipples but he was being patient.

He was determined to make you feel that today is the best day of your life.

"Can we remove this, sweetheart?" Hyunjin's voice was a hushed whisper, his fingers toying with the strap of your bra.

You nodded, getting up and moving your hands behind you, unclasping your bra, your breasts pouring out, revealing them to his eyes filled with lust and love.

Hyunjin's eyes widened at the sight, he couldn't stop admiring your beautiful nipples, they looked so pretty and perfect.

His thumb brushed across the tip, it began stiffening under his touch, your heart was racing. Nervousness and anticipation was building in your stomach.

Hyunjin layed you on your back again and leaned down, kissing around the soft muscle and took the bud in his mouth, teased and swirled it with his tongue and began sucking, your chest rose as you moaned at the sensation.

His warm mouth on your breast felt so good, you could feel the wetness pooling between your legs as your thighs squeezed together, your body responding to him in ways that felt entirely new, yet so deeply right.

Hyunjin's hand closed around the other, softly massaging and rolling the tip between his fingers while he was latching on the left one, this feeling was insane. It was something you had never felt before and you just wanted him to keep going. Let him guide you through this new experience.

"Oh, Hyunjin," You moaned, breath hitching now and then, your fingers running through his hair as gave so much attention to your chest.

His face was buried, playing and groaning at the sounds that were escaping from your throat. The sounds of his lips on your skin, the wet slurping and gentle sucking, filled the room, mingling with your breathy moans.

Your heart was thundering behind your ribcage but you were enjoying every second of it. Hyunjin's other hand was closed around your wrist to read your pulse but he knew you were being consumed with need.

After minutes, his mouth left your nipples, his lips swollen and glistening from his attention to your breasts, the look on his face was pure satisfaction.

"I could keep doing that forever baby," He swirled the bud one last time and crushed his mouth on yours.

There were so many emotions swirling in your mind right now, it was nearly overwhelming to calm them down, although your body was begging and craving for his touch.

Hyunjin's fingers now traced across the waistband of your pants, this time you nodded pulling back, now not feeling so nervous anymore.

He smiled, kissing your cheeks and unbuttoning your pants, pulled them down and throwing them on the floor. Now you were in nothing but your panties that matched with your pink bra.

Hyunjin traced his finger over your clothed center, feeling the wetness soaking the fabric, he was doing nothing but stroking his long middle finger over it.

You inhaled a sharp breath. Oh God, this was embarrassing. A rush of self-consciousness flooded you as you realized how loud your gasps were. But before you could silence yourself, Hyunjin's hand flattened against your pussy, the warmth and pressure of his palm grounding you.

"Don't silence your noises, Angel, okay?" His tone was hushed but also a command. "I want to hear how good I'm making you feel."

You nodded as you watched him smile and stand on his knees again, removing his tank top and pants, and now we was in nothing but his boxers. Your eyes fell from his eyes down to his beautifully sculpted body, you expected an artist's signature to be there at the end of the long V of his torso.

Your gaze travelled down to the impressive bulge straining against the fabric of his boxers. The reality of his size made your heart skip a beat. You were feeling nervous again but at the same time you were feeling excited.

"Ready?" He asked, towering you, his arm next to your head holding him up and his other hand's finger twisting the band of your underwear.

"Yeah," You said breathlessly and Hyunjin slid the lace down, leaving you fully naked and exposed.

Tonight he was going to make you feel like a princess. Like a Queen.

"I'm going to take good care of you, my Angel."

He kissed your lips one more time and began making his way down your body, trailing hot wet kisses on your breasts, the valley of your stomach and the rise of your pubic bone.

And as he reached your centre, you were so wet for him, pride and possessiveness washed over him with the sight of your pussy. It was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. He kissed your clit, as light as feather, you hitched a breath again, your toes curling.

"Baby, just relax. I'll make you feel good," His fingers traced over your wet folds, spreading them gently to reveal your most intimate self. A small hiss escaped your lips as the cool air met your heated core, your eyes fluttering shut as you tried to steady your breathing.

Hyunjin kissed your soft thighs to calm you down and gently got down to your clit again, his tongue moving over your sensitive bud. He groaned into your wetness, pressing his mouth on your pussy, and began eating you out.

This was nearly ecstatic. He was making you feel beyond good. Your body responded so eagerly to him, you forgot how nervous you were. Your mewling sounds made Hyunjin drunk with the taste of your juices, your hand fisted his hair out of instinct and the other grabbing the sheets.

Hyunjin's tongue worked so expertly on you, every lick and flick tingling your body, lapping away your sweetness. He pressed his mouth against you more firmly, his tongue exploring every inch of you, tasting, teasing, and worshiping with every stroke.

When he felt your breathing steady, only moaning in response to him, in an almost torturous inch by inch, he slid his middle finger through your opening, the sensation made you squirm.

"Baby, you taste so good," He said, flattening his tongue over the nub. "So mine." You were squirming at the feeling, moaning while tears leaked from the corner of your eyes.

He added his ring finger after a few seconds and moved them so slowly inside of you. It was clear that you were experiencing something new, something intense, and it made him want to be even more careful, even more gentle.

He was scared to hurt you, he didn't want to cause you any pain. Your pleasure was his pleasure. And he wanted to give you every ounce of it.

Hyunjin watched you, your chest rising and falling, mouth open and eyes half shut at the pleasure he was giving you with his mouth and fingers. He could feel how you tightened around him, your soft moans filling the room, each one like music to his ears.

"Are you feeling good Angel?" He asked softly and kissed your clit.

"Yeah," You moaned. "Yeah, it's...it's so good, Hyunne."

The way you said his name, the way you moaned it, sent a jolt of electric fire straight through him. His heart swelled with so much love at the same time he could feel the insistent throbbing of his own arousal, his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, begging to dive in you.

Hyunjin wasn’t used to this kind of restraint. He wasn't a patient man. He liked it hard and rough, the kind of sex that left marks imprinted on skin. But tonight was different. It was about you—the love of his life, the one person who made his heart ache with tenderness.

"Hyun—" You gasped when his fingers worked faster.

"It's okay baby, I'm preparing you. Trust me," He said, coming up to your face, kissing away the tears.

"I, I trust you," Your voice came out low and breaking into moans, the sounds of his fingers inside your hot walls and coming out of your throat drove him crazy.

Hyunjin's gaze was intense, his eyes dark with desire as he watched your every reaction, the way your breath hitched, the way your body arched towards him. He loved seeing you like this, completely vulnerable, completely his.

Your nails dug his strong bicep, grooving scars, the stinging pain turned Hyunjin on so much more. After prepping you, Hyunjin withdrew his fingers, you were so wet and your body was now ready for him.

You were flushed and dripping with arousal that your walls clenched around nothing, he smiled at you when your eyes locked. You gently propped on your elbows as Hyunjin reached out to his nightstand, opening the drawer and took out a condom, he held it in between his teeth as he pulled his boxers down.

You were right. Hyunjin is BIG. His cock was finally freed from the confines, it was so hard, jutting up, long and veiny, you could feel it throbbing without even touching it. The tip was angry, leaking pre cum, you swallowed looking at his impressive shaft. The mere idea of it being inside of you made you feel like it was impossible.

You swallowed hard again, the nervousness building up once more, heart racing. It was like he could feel it, he turned back to you taking the condom in his hand, his fingers pressing on your hair.

"I'll be gentle baby, I promise." His eyes softened as he watched you, the look of his gaze spoke to your heart, promising that this will be the best thing you ever experienced.

"I, I want you Hyunjin," You reached and put your hands around his neck, your body was craving for him despite the nervousness.

"I'm all yours baby," He kissed your cheek. "Just relax and let me take care of you, my sweet Angel."

He said and settled in between you, spreading your thighs and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling the condom on. He held your waist and positioned himself near your hole, you felt the tip brush against your entrance, making you shiver with anticipation.

Every inch of your bodies were on fire, consumed my love and desire. You wanted Hyunjin inside you and Hyunjin wanted to dive in.

With one long breath, Hyunjin looked at you, his fingers intertwined with your fingers, his mouth collided with yours and the other hand holding your waist, he was finally, wondrously going inside you.

Inch by inch of his huge length filled you with an amount of pain and pleasure, your back arched into him, you were wincing. Hyunjin didn't leave your mouth until he was fully inside you.

When he pulled apart, your eyes fluttered open meeting his, it was glassy with tears and was streaming down your face. He kissed your wet cheeks, his grip tightening on your waist.

You were so tight, clamping his cock so nicely, Hyunjin felt like he could come right now, but he held himself.

Hyunjin has to be gentle. For you. He promised. And he will. He had never been one to hold back, but for you, he would restrain every urge, every impulse, because he knew how important this was. Not just for you, but for the both of you.

"Are you feeling okay? He stilled.

"Yeah," You let out a shaky breath and gripped his arm. "It's so...good, oh my God."

Hyunjin smiled so widely, his heart swelling with a mix of pride and overwhelming love. The way you looked at him, the way your breath hitched, sent a rush of warmth through his chest. “Good,” He whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he leaned down to pressed his lips on your forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment, soaking in the warmth of your skin, his body caging you. Protecting you.

Your breath shuddered when he looked down at you, your eyes wide and filled with a mix of vulnerability and lust. Hyunjin kissed you again, your fingers tightening around his hand as he began moving, the first pull and push was discomforting.

The initial stretch was intense, a mixture of pleasure and a slight burn, but Hyunjin’s calm presence kept you anchored. He paused, giving you time to adjust, you whined into his mouth, still feeling a painful friction. You let out a wincing sound, Hyunjin stroked your hair, trying to steady you.

"It's okay, it's okay baby. You're doing so well my love,"

With his soothing voice, it became easier, the pain and discomfort was being replaced by pleasure with each new thrust. You adjusted to the sensation, feeling the tension begin to ebb, replaced by a growing sense of fullness.

You almost couldn't believe that this was happening. You were doing it. Sex. With Hyunjin, and your heart never felt this happy.

Soon you were moaning, louder and louder with each thrust, he began increasing his pace. Your hand came up to his face, tracing his features, he held it and kissed your palm.

Hyunjin watched your reactions closely, his eyes never leaving your face as he sought out the smallest signs of discomfort, ready to stop the moment you needed him to.

But all he saw was your pleasure, the way your body responded to him, the way you melted under his touch. It was intoxicating, more than anything he had ever experienced before.

"Fuck, Angel," He groaned.

Your walls were clenching him so nicely, he felt like he was going to explode, it drove him insane. His voice was raw with the effort it took to maintain control. You looked so heavenly beneath him, he couldn't believe his eyes.

"Hyunjin..." Pleasure consumed you whole, you moaned as Hyunjin fucked you slow and gentle before he scooped your leg, holding the underside of your thigh so that he can dive in a bit deeper.

Your head fell back against the pillow as you gasped, your eyes fluttered shut, mouth falling open as you took him in like you were made for him. Hyunjin was so proud of you. He watched you getting drowned in pleasure, letting yourself get lost to him. Your fingers locked again, he never let them go.

Hyunjin's mouth leaned close to your ear, whispering words of praise to you, how gorgeous you are, how much he loves you and how you are doing so well. Somehow those words were more intimate than the actual sex.

"You're so perfect for me," He murmured into your ear, his voice low and husky, the words laced with a mix of love and lust.

His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his body moved in sync with yours.

"Taking me so well...You feel so fucking good."

The way he moved inside you, the way he held your hand so tightly, grounding you even as he drove you to the brink of ecstasy—it was overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your heart, body and soul was on fire as Hyunjin began increasing his pace and leaned down, resting your leg back down on the mattress and began sucking your nipple as he continued thrusting. Your free hand held the back of his neck and went through his damp hair as he licked and sucked.

The air was soaking with sweat, gasps, groans, and the rhythmic slapping of skin against skin.

Moan after moan poured out of your throat, growing louder and needy as he went in and out, you felt him hit all the spots. There were no more signs of any pain or discomfort or nervousness and you wanted more.

"More, Hyunjin," You moaned, arching your back and bucking your hips, needing him.

"Do you like this sweetheart? Do you feel good?" He asked, removing his mouth from the swollen bud. Hyunjin's voice was rough, almost strained, he lifted his head to look at you before dipping down again to kiss and suck at your other breast.

"Yeah, yeah...Oh—" You moaned loudly as your eyes shot open when he hit that one spot that made you feel something tingle and building in your lower stomach.

He groaned in your chest knowing he was bringing you to the brink of your first orgasm. Hyunjin was filled with so much pride. His cock twitched inside you, the two of you were reaching the depths of your highs. He was losing himself in you, just as you were losing yourself in him.

"You're mine, all mine," He growled softly, his grip on your hand tightening as he thrusted deeper, filling you completely. "I'm so fucking proud of you, baby. You're so good...so fucking perfect."

The sound of his voice, rough with lust, sent a fresh wave of pleasure crashing over you, your grip tightened, nails digging into his skin as you felt yourself nearing the edge.

It's here. It's here, you can feel it. And so can he.

"Hyunjin...oh...gosh..." He smiled wide at your breathless voice.

"I know, baby" He groaned, his pace quickening, the tension in his voice making it clear that he was right there with you, he placed a hot kiss on your neck.

"Go on my Angel, come for me, I've got you."

Hyunjin said and kept moving, rocking his hips, you were moaning uncontrollably. His words were your undoing and with a sharp cry, you surrendered to the pleasure, your body trembling as you came undone in his arms.

The tingles in your stomach untangled as you felt your release, it took over your whole body, your back arched against him. Hyunjin held you as you screamed his name, coming down in ecstasy all over his cock, your other hand clawing his back.

Hyunjin growled in your neck, he sped up, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, until he slammed into you one final time, cussing and filling his load deep into the condom, moans broken and loud spilling out, your body shaking beneath him.

He stopped thrusting, his cock was continuously twitching inside of you, the feeling of his release making him groan harshly. Hyunjin gently lowered himself onto you, his weight comforting as he pressed strong body over yours.

"Fuck...fuck..." His face was buried in your neck, the aftershocks of his release making him shudder against you, tears streamed down your cheeks again in pleasure.

You both held each other's sweaty bodies, Hyunjin still inside you as the aftermath of your shared climax slowly began fading, until you both caught your breaths, calming down from the highs of your comedowns.

As the waves of pleasure finally began to subside, Hyunjin lifted his head from the crook of your neck, looking at your face flushed crimson. He brushed away the strands of hair that were glued on your face, smiling so widely, it made your heart ache.

A few seconds later, Hyunjin slowly pulled out of you after his breathing was steadied and discarded the condom. You got up when he turned to you and wrapped your hands around him, the sudden movement made him lose his balance, and he fell back onto the bed, bringing you with him.

You landed on top of him, both of you laughing softly.

"Heyy babe," He chuckled and before he said anything else, he hugged you back tightly.

"Thank you," You cried into his arms out of an overwhelming amout of happiness radiating off you, your chest pressed against his. "This was perfect."

You sniffled, feeling the dampness spread across his skin, mingling with the sheen of sweat that covered both of your bodies. Hyunjin's arms wrapped around you even tighter, his embrace warm and strong. You felt his hand gently stroking your back, his touch comforting and full of emotion as you buried your face in his neck.

"How are you feeling Angel?" He asked once you finally pulled back slightly, his hand came up to cup your face.

"Stronger than ever before."

Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he gazed at you, his thumb gently brushing away the tears that still clung to your lashes.

“That makes me so happy to hear,” Hyunjin whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

He reached and planted his lips yours, sweet and softly, conveying everything he felt for you. It was slow, gentle, and full of the love you both shared.

“I’m so proud of you,” He continued pulling back, his voice low and soothing. “For being so brave and thank you...for trusting me…”

Your heart swelled at his words, the sincerity and warmth in his voice making you feel even closer to him. You reached and cupped his face in your hand, your thumb gently caressing his cheek as you looked into his eyes.

“I trust you with everything I am,” You said softly, your voice full of emotion.

"I love you," Hyunjin murmured, his eyes shining with affection. "You’re everything to me, Angel. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what."

"I love you too," You smiled, the happiness overwhelming you, radiating from your heart.

You couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found someone like Hyunjin, someone who loved you so deeply, who saw you for who you were and cherished you all the more for it.

You rested your head on his chest, you could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. Each beat was a reassuring reminder of his presence, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as his breaths created a comforting lullaby, a soothing backdrop to the moment you shared.

“Let’s stay like this,” You whispered, raising your head and looking at him, your voice soft. “Just for a little while longer.”

Hyunjin smiled, pressing a sweet peck on your nose. “For as long as you want, Angel,” He murmured, his voice full of devotion.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

You nestled closer to him, your body on top of his, your head resting on Hyunjin's chest as you listened to the steady beat of his heart. His arms held you securely, and you both felt a sense of belonging.

A feeling of peace washed over you, knowing that this was exactly where you and Hyunjin were meant to be.

Together, in love, now and always.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Enjoyed this one shot? Consider checking my masterlist for more. Requests? Check 𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 (& 𝚁𝚞𝚕𝚎𝚜)

Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

[breeding kink with felix. afab!reader. protected sex (yay!!). mentions of ovulation. dry humping? dirty talk. reader’s horny. felix is also horny + shy and embarrassed. marks and hickeys. they’re in love your honor.]

.

Felix’s back hits the mattress, body limp and spent.

“Mhhh, wanna fuck,” you wrap your arm around his waist, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as you pepper the soft and sensitive skin of his neck with kisses.

His eyebrows raise comically, he looks like a cartoon character.

“Babe, we literally just finished fucking,” he chuckles. “I’ve still got the condom on.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. You take a quick look between his legs to find out he is technically right. Looking at him, you snort.

“Ew, gross, take it off.”

“I was about to before you attacked me with your love,” he pecks your lips. He takes the condom off and ties a knot on it, then throws it in the bin next to his side of the bed. “We should go wash up.”

“What?” You whine, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, then another one right above his nipple. “I was serious, babe. I’m so… horny right now, I really want to fuck.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” Felix arches one of his eyebrows. “Like, are you for real?”

You pout. “Yes.”

“We did it this morning, too,” he looks at you suspiciously, “and you sucked me off in the shower after. What’s up with you? I’m down, don’t get me wrong, it’s just— you’re never this needy.”

You shrug, drawing imaginary shapes all over his chest with the tip of your finger. He brushes a few strands of hair from your face.

“It’s nothing. I’m just ovulating, that’s it,” you say casually, as if it weren’t a big deal.

“You know, I never really understood what it means. Like, physically speaking.”

“Did you skip sex ed in high school?” You giggle. “Men,” you roll your eyes at him. “It basically means my body is, like, getting ready to get pregnant. Like, there’s this strong urge to mate and basically I’m horny all the time.”

Felix’s limp cock twitches.

“Oh?”

“Hm,” you hum, “even the littlest things turn me on. Like this morning in the shower,” you explain.

“I was literally rinsing my hair and you kneeled down before me!” He chuckles, remembering what had happened in the shower.

“Yeah, but your muscles were all flexed and— and you had your head kicked back and you looked super hot,” you let your hand run all over his torso, meeting his toned abs.

A rosy blush tints his cheeks — Felix always gets so flustered when receiving compliments.

“Baaabe,” he whines, embarrassed, “stop it.”

“Why?” You pout, looking at him with curious eyes. “Don’t you want to know how much you turn me on, baby?”

“I do, I do,” Felix nuzzles your cheek. “It’s just— I always get so shy when you compliment me.”

You know that, of course. You know Felix like the back of your hand.

“But you always love to tell me when you think I’m sexy,” you kiss his chest. “You love to tell me how I’m making you feel when you’re inside me…” you wrap your lips around his nipple and Felix’s body twitches.

“Well, yeah, but I mean…”

“No buts,” you look at him, “just let me show my pretty boyfriend how much he turns me on.”

“Hmm, there’s nothing I’d love more, babe,” he cups your face, “but there’s this thing called refractory period, which let me tell you, sucks.”

His penis is still limp of course, his body needs to regain the strength and energy in order for him to get hard again in such a short period of time. But never say never, maybe you could help him with that since you happen to know exactly what turns him on.

“Let me see what I can do about that,” you smirk at him.

Felix looks at you confused, eyebrows furrowed as he watches you position yourself over him, one leg on each side of his body until his most intimate parts are pressed on yours. He must admit it feels incredibly good.

“Babe- babe, what—?”

A sigh cuts him off his own thoughts as soon as he feels you sliding up and down his hardening cock, almost as if you were giving him a pussy job right now.

“You’re getting so hard for me, baby,” you whine against his skin, continuing to slide up and down his cock.

“Wait— wait, babe, my stuff…” Felix’s cheeks are super red right now. “There might be still cum on… it.”

It being his cock, of course. Since Felix isn’t lying and you have, indeed, just finished fucking, it is completely normal that he’s all wet and sticky with his own substance.

“Are you scared that you’re gonna knock me up with just a little bit of dry humping?” You giggle, kissing his collarbone.

Felix gasps at the thought, his dick instantly becoming rock hard. He feels kind of guilty for that, for these filthy thoughts. He shouldn’t enjoy the thought of risk, right? It shouldn’t turn him on so much. The thought of knocking you up, the thought of you being his forever. Right now is the perfect time, too, since you’re ovulating — you told him yourself. If he just angled his hips slightly differently he’d slip right inside of your wet and tight heat without the barrier of the condom preventing him from feeling you completely. He would fill you up and watch the way it leaks out of you. Maybe it wouldn’t take on the first try and you’d have to just keep having unprotected sex until—

“Oh, you’re not scared,” you pull back to look at him with eyebrows raise. “Lee Felix, I didn’t know you had a breeding kink,” you poke his cheek.

He looks down at you like a deer caught in the headlights and gasps.

“I do not!” He tries to deny the obvious truth, his own cock betraying him.

“Then why are you so hard?” You run your fingers through his hair. “Why is your pretty cock all hard and leaky, baby?”

“Of course it is, you’re on top of me. Naked, and you’re telling me all of this filthy stuff— of course it gets hard!”

“Hmm,” you kiss his neck, “so it doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that I’m ovulating right now.”

Felix gasps once more.

“N-Not necessarily…”

“Hm, alright then,” you stop moving on top of him since he’s rock hard, “just grab a condom and fuck me, babe.”

Now, a new thought intrudes Felix’s mind. The thought of you being all horny and desperate to fuck him, being ready to receive his cum. Your body craves him. He knows that biologically speaking it’s not technically related to him, but still, knowing that he has such an effect on you and that you get super horny just because he does mundane things such as showering or literally anything else makes his cock and heart swell up.

“How long does it last?” Felix asks, reaching for the top drawer, where he stashes condoms and lube and the sex toys you both use in the bedroom.

“What, my ovulation?”

“Hm.”

“I mean, like a week? But this is the third day already, so…”

Felix closes the drawer, condom between his fingers, as he rolls onto the bed ready to rip the small package and put it on.

“But, like, today’s the peak,” you mumble absentmindedly, “apparently I’m super fertile or something…”

Felix freezes. The thought he’d been trying to brush off so desperately now hits him like a ton of bricks. Super fertile. You’re lying between his bedsheets like a true goddess, begging him to fuck your for the third time within the span of six hours, all pretty and horny and desperate for him.

“Ah,” Felix’s jaw drops as he rolls on the condom, “I see.”

“What’s that? Thought you didn’t have a breeding kink,” you smirk at him, poking Felix’s cheek. “Just admit it at this point, babe.”

He finds his place between your legs, pressing his body on yours as he aligns himself with your entrance. You’re still wet from your previous orgasm, which was pretty intense, so the tip slips in effortlessly and you let out the prettiest whine. He grips the bedsheets underneath you as he imagines the thin barrier of the condom isn’t there. That you’re being irresponsible and having unprotected sex, risking all the possible consequences.

“Just admit that you wanna fuck me raw,” you whisper in his ear, fingernails scratching his shoulders and back, probably leaving bright red marks on Felix’s skin.

He twitches inside of you.

“Admit that you wanna cum inside me,” you stick your fingernails in the soft flesh of his ass. “That you wanna fill me up and make me a mommy.”

“Babe, don’t— don’t say such things,” he pants on top of you.

“Why?”

“‘Cause I won’t last if you do.”

You smirk. Bingo.

“I’ll let you, Felix,” you whine. “I’ll let you fuck me raw and I’ll let you cum inside. You can knock me up and make me a mommy, babe. Everyone will know I’m yours and—”

“Fuck—” he gasps, hips snapping faster. “Y-You want that? You really want all that with me?” He grunts in your ear with his deep voice before biting down on your neck.

You know he’s getting close despite it being only minutes since you started fucking. Honestly, though, you’re impressed he still has enough energy left in his body system.

“Take it off,” you blurt out without thinking, biting on his shoulder, “take the condom off, Felix,” you pull him by the messy ponytail and he grunts.

“What?” He slows down his thrusts. “Are you serious?”

“Hmm, I wanna feel it. Wanna fill your cum leak out of me, babe…” you suck a pink mark on his neck.

“Fuck— shit!”

Felix cums. Inside the condom, thankfully, since he hadn’t had the time to take it off. In a couple of minutes, after he’ll make you cum with his mouth and fingers and he’ll have you squirting all over his face and bedsheets, you’ll be thankful he didn’t take you seriously. You blurt out the weirdest shit when horny and desperate to cum, and maybe this is a kink you both have.

“I’m sorry I came super fast. It’s just— you took the dirty talk to a whole new level, babe,” he nuzzles your cheek, embarrassed about his performance.

You giggle, holding him closer. “I know, I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was saying… but I was right,” you smirk, “you do have a breeding kink.”

Felix hides his face in your neck, red in the face.

You leave soft kisses on the top of his head, toying with the ends of his hair.

“Yah! You do too…” he mumbles, feeling shy all of a sudden.

You stay like this for a few minutes, before you tap on his shoulder gently.

“Felix?”

“Hm?” He nuzzles your neck.

“I’m still horny…”

.

reblog if you like my fics! it’s what motivates me to write more!

Summary : some cozy, hot shower sex with hyunjin :) bit romantic, bit cute, bit freaky😉🫶

Word count : 1.5k

Warnings : handjob, fingering, unprotected sex, choking kinda, hair pulling, the works

There’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“You can come in.” You call out.

The door creaks open and then shuts again with a click, seconds later. You tilt your head for a better view, but the glass is fogged up with steam. You make out Hyunjin’s tall, slender figure even through the blurry glass. He stands opposite to you, separated by the wall.

“Do you want some company?” He cocks his head, the pitch of his voice heightening as he speaks.

“I’ll think about it.” You reply, smiling.

He stills. “Okay I’ll leave.” He answers coolly.

“I’m joking, come here.” You smile, rolling your eyes.

You hear the metal clink as he hastily undoes his belt, followed by the gentle thump of fabric hitting the floor. The glass door pulls open slowly, releasing a whirl of steam. He ducks his head slightly, grabbing the marbled underside of the door frame as he makes his way inside. He pulls the door closed behind him, engulfing you both once again with steam. The heat magnifies the deep floral scent of the soap you’re using. White clusters of bubbles glide down your body, guided by the steady stream of water. He slowly steps closer to you, cautionary, as if you might tell him to leave if he’s too quick. He reaches behind his head, tugging the tie from his hair. It immediately falls into place, silky black waves forming curtains in front of his face. He drags his hands through his hair, pulling it out of his face before joining you under the spray of water. His eyes fall closed as he tips his head back, basking in the warmth.

“God, it’s so hot. Do you always take showers like this?” He drops his head back down, a few strands of jet black hair falling in front of his eyes. Beads of water drip from each one, landing on his nose and lips.

You hum, tracing a finger along his collarbone. When you look up, he’s gazing back down at you through dark, glossy eyes. His plush pink lips parted ever so slightly. The mixture of Hyunjin’s height and the angle of his head act as a shield, sheltering you from the stream of hot water. He licks a drop of water off his bottom lip, making a show of slowly dragging his tongue over it. He’s a born performer, awash with raw, sexual power. The kind possessed exclusively by young, influential men. Hyunjin is virile, yet feminine in the most alluring, seductive way. When he wants something, he doesn’t just know how to get it, he knows how to make you want to give it to him. The way he’s looking at you right now, dark hooded eyes, hungry, and alight with desire. They travel up and down your body, consuming every inch of skin. Long, slender fingers gently graze up your hip. He locks eyes with you coyly, testing the waters. You bring my lips to the expanse of his chest, slowly and deliberately. Sucking gently at the soft wet skin. He brings his free hand to your chin, tilting it upwards and holding it there. He kisses you hard, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth. His grip on your hip tightens, pulling you flush to him as his other thumb roams your cheek. You tangle your fingers, losing them in his thick streaks of black hair. You make a fist, tugging his head back just enough for him to open his mouth. He allows your tongue to wander. He tastes sweet, and faintly minty.

His big hand travels from your cheek to the back of your head, taking a firm grip on your hair. He tangles his long fingers through your wet hair, pulling just hard enough to elicit a satisfied sound. Your reaction seems to please him, as he smiles, pulling away from the kiss to look you in the eyes. His unwavering grip on your hair remains. Now that your faces are apart, the heat from your flush bodies becomes more apparent. You feel him pressed against your belly. He’s achingly hard as you push your bodies even closer. His back collides with the tiled wall behind him, cool brown marble contrasting with the heat of the water. You remove your hand from his hair, bringing it to rest on his shoulder. Your other hand rakes slowly up his thigh, digging in your nails as your fingers pass over the defined V formed by his hips. They come to a halt at his ribcage, just below his chest. When you look at him this time, his eyes are no longer hooded and hungry, instead they’re wide, burning with anticipation. Hyunjin’s curious, doe eyed look only grows wider as your fingers trace the ridges of his abdomen. You allow your fingers to lightly brush over the tip of his length. He whimpers softly in response, curling a tight fist in your hair. He knows you know what he wants. And he knows you’re going to give it to him. It’s all a bit of a game to him, and he revels in every second of it. He yanks you closer by the waist, grinding his hips into your belly, desperate for any kind of friction. His stare is hot, seering every inch of skin he sets his eyes on. He’s gorgeous like this, a little bit undone, pink cheeks flushed from both the steam and the frantic need for release.

“Tell me what you want.” You whisper.

“Touch me.” He groans back in response. “Please.”

Finally, you take him in your hand the way you know he wants you to. He melts instantly, a long shallow hiss escaping his throat. His head instantly lolls onto your shoulder, hot breath on your neck. He opens his mouth, dragging his tongue and teeth over your shoulder. He sucks in a gasp as you stroke him slowly, rocking his hips up to claim as much contact as he can get. He bites down gently on your neck and you inhale deeply, exhaling a quiet moan. His long, delicate fingers creep down the small of your back before reaching the heat between your thighs. He traces a slow deliberate finger in between your legs. You squeeze him lightly as your hand travels up and down his length. Your breathing goes ragged as he begins to trace slow circles around your clit. Just as you start to grind your hips against his fingers, he pulls them away. You whine in response, squeezing his shoulder.

“Tell me what you want.” He smirks into your ear.

“You know what I want Hyunjin?” You reply.

He raises an eyebrow, curious.

You lower your voice, to nothing more than a whisper. “I want you to pin me against this wall and fuck me with your pretty cock until you come.”

He sucks in a gasp at your crude language, but you feel him twitch in your hand. His breathing is harsh and ragged now, and he’s wound up in a way that feels almost primal. He flips your bodies in one swift movement, him now shielding you from the stream of water. Your chest is pinned to the cold tile, your hands on either side. Hyunjin’s lean, solid body is pressed up behind you. He breathes deep and hard into the crook of your neck, bringing a hand up to the wall, his large hand eclipsing yours entirely as he interlocks your fingers. He busies his other free hand with teasing your entrance, dragging his tip along it. You try to reach back, but he holds your hand tight to the wall. He readies himself and then without warning thrusts into you. He goes slowly at first, nipping at your jaw with his teeth. You whimper and arch your back, indicating for him to go faster. Your bodies are flush together so close that they’re practically parallel to the wall. Hyunjin snakes his free hand under your arm and to your neck. His fingers settle their stern grip on either side under your jaw. The slight pressure on your neck feels so good, and you let him know with a bit louder moan. He smiles into your neck and groans, quickening his thrusts. You can tell he’s close because his fingers tighten more and more around your throat the faster he goes. For a while, the only sounds heard are the mixture of your ragged breathing, skin colliding and the steady stream of water. He groans harshly, followed by a whimper. His thrusts grow sloppier and he drops his head onto your shoulder.

“Fuck.” He rolls his hips slowly, prolonging his high for as long as possible.

He pulls out, and you feel a hot spurt of liquid drip down the back of your thigh. He sighs deeply, catching his breath against your neck. You stay like that for a moment, allowing your heart rates to still. Slowly, Hyunjin stands up, allowing the water to hit your skin again. He reaches wordlessly for the bar of soap on the shelf above your head, bringing it down to your skin. He drags it down your body, leaving a trail of bubbles in its wake. He sets the soap back on the shelf and allows his hands to massage it into your body, white bubbles covering both of your skin. You smile, pleased as he holds you flush to his hard chest beneath the water, allowing the soap and the remnants of sex to mix as they wash away down the drain.

Seasons

Copyright Ⓒ 2023 by Moonjxsung

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner. Doing so will result in a legal takedown per the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and is subject to legal action.

Pairing: Lee Felix x fem reader

W/c: 24.1k

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of a hospital, alcohol, smoking, erotic photography, use of pet names, clitoral stimulation, breast/nipple play, unprotected sex, creampie, dry humping, sex in a semi-public place (no one is around), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, cum eating

Synopsis: Seasons come and go like your love for Felix once did- but when he reappears in your life several years later, things are much different.

[this work was based off a request from @crookedt44th - thank you for requesting!]

18+. Mdni!

•

Small town at the edge of the world. 11:30am. A Tuesday in Autumn.

If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, they’d probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, you’d tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state they’ve chosen.

Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and don’t stop until you’re almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.

That’s the town of Ember.

A town so insignificant, the only name they could think to give it was based on the fire that plagued it almost 50 years ago, which begged the question to those in neighboring cities- who even lives there?

Famous for absolutely nothing of importance, population who-knows-these-days, nothing to do and nowhere to go.

And the place you call home.

*

“Pieces of a Dream. 1970’s.”

“Yellow,” your manager responds, and you unravel a bulky roll of discount stickers, thumbing one off the adhesive and placing it gently in the corner of the plastic-wrapped vinyl.

“The rest of those should be discounted,” he says, quickly shuffling through the stack and giving them a little slap with the palm of his hand.

He slides the stack over to you, taking his spot on the wooden stool by the register again and flipping through a stack of pages on his clipboard.

Chris, your manager, has been the owner of Ember Records for the better part of a decade now. He succeeds his father’s role as store owner, who succeeded his father’s role, back when the record shop wasn’t mostly lost to the fire. Since its relocation, it’s much smaller, so you’ve heard, only about half the shelf space available to house the generous collection of records his great grandfather used to collect and sell.

This is one of just a handful of shops around here, located in the heart of the tourist attraction that is the town’s square. Thus, you’re well-acquainted with the baristas from the coffee shop across the street, the waiters at the diner, the librarians and even the car mechanics. You’re all familiar with the businesses you run to keep this town on its feet, many of you having chosen to stay here for a simpler life.

“I dig the grays,” you tell Chris, crossing your arms as you lean against the counter and slide him the finished stack of tagged vinyl.

He sighs, cocking his head and uncapping his pen between his teeth. “They creep up on you when you least expect it. You know this shit costs like, hundreds to get dyed?”

“Leave it,” you say to him, giving a small nod as you speak. “It makes you look more mature. I mean, what does Yena think of it?”

“She loves it,” he says, catching a glimpse of his reflection in one of the glass cases and running his hands through his hair. “But she’d also love if I shaved my eyebrows off. She’ll compliment anything.”

“Then shave your eyebrows,” you say, chuckling, as you stuff your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. “You’re lucky to have a wife who’s so supportive of your decisions. I’m taking my lunch!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris says, laughing as he shakes his head. “Oh, and Yena left you some pie in the back room.”

“Tell her thank you!” You call over your shoulder as you make your way to the back.

The back room is just a glorified storage closet, one dingy table pushed up against the wall, one wooden chair and shelves of records that need to be pushed out to the sales floor, or should’ve just been burned in the fire. You have to duck your head to not hit it on the hanging pendant lamp, its bulb buzzing concerningly loud as you take your seat and pry open the Tupperware container Yena left for you in the fridge- cherry pie, your favorite, from the diner down the street where she works.

As you take generous bites of your first meal of the day, you shuffle through a stack of records neglected on the table from last week’s donation. There are a myriad of genres- old jazz bands, electronic records, synth pop and even a few ambient pieces. As you flip over one of the covers, Chris calls to you from the front, his voice echoing around the dingy little storage closet.

“Y/n! I need you to come help out!”

And you sigh, promptly shutting the Tupperware closed again and making your way out to the front.

That’s the thing about this job- it’s small, but it’s busy, the hundreds of records demanding your very precise attention at any given moment of the day. You live to serve the people here, suggesting records to those seeking new sounds or curiously peering at genres unknown to them. And tourists are drawn to the place, often leaving with armfuls of old vinyl to add to their collections. It’s not a town they’ll likely ever visit again, you’re well aware, but the shop allows people to take a little piece of Ember with them wherever they go. And though the lack of grandiosity might not bring them back, your attentiveness to detail and passion for music sometimes do.

*

“Coffee?” Yena asks you, as you slide into the familiar spot of your favorite booth, next to the window in her diner. She saunters over with the pot anyway, setting a little white mug down in front of you and filling the cup halfway.

“Thanks,” you reply, already tearing open packs of creamer.

At half past 8, the record shop closes in only an hour, Chris taking on the role of closing procedures in your absence. It’s a routine life you lead, tending to the record shop by day and basking in the town’s simple pleasures by nighttime. And with all the people you love in it, you have no reason to leave, no rush to migrate elsewhere.

“How’s work?” Yena asks, sliding into the booth across from you and pulling a notepad out from her apron. She flips through the pages, stopping on a blank one and adding up her tips for the evening.

“Fine,” you say to her, taking a generous sip of coffee. “Just mostly repeat customers for today. But we did have a pretty hefty donation, so that’s a plus.”

“Anything good?” She questions, without looking up from her notepad.

“Negative. A lot of older stuff I used to listen to in high school.”

Yena finishes tallying up her tips, shutting her notepad and finally meeting your gaze.

“Hey, if that’s old, then I’m ancient.”

You both laugh, and she keeps her gaze on you for a moment before speaking again.

“Gosh, I still remember when you moved here. You were so… wide-eyed. And quiet.”

“I was so lost,” you say with a small chuckle. “I don’t even think I knew how to work a record player.”

“And now look at you,” she emphasizes, gesturing to your face. “You just seem… happy these days.”

She smiles for a moment, before gathering the empty cups of creamer off the table and sliding out of the booth.

“I hope you’ll stay here, if it means you’re always going to be this happy.”

You smile to yourself as she begins back toward the kitchen, humming to herself.

“Wasn’t planning on leaving!” You call out, and without turning around, she gives you a thumbs up before disappearing into the kitchen again.

*

Some days, your shifts feel like 5 minutes. Other days, they feel like 5 days. Today is the latter, the clock on the wall above the register ticking away by the second, and yet seemingly no closer to the end of your day. You’re on closing procedures this evening, Chris and Yena having taken the day off to have a much overdue date night. And it’s empty, like it usually is on Wednesday evenings, not a soul in sight as the town tends to their own duties, the tourists all working busy jobs in the city.

You slouch your shoulders over the wooden stool, dusting off a pile of folk records and shuffling through them, admiring the intricate paintings on the covers. It’s one of your favorite things about working here- locating the beautiful paintings and photographs that graze the covers of records, all of them vastly different from one another, but equally as evocative. You trace your fingertips over what appears to be a Polish record, a couple dressed in fancy colorful fabrics as he dips her into a bow. You can’t help but wonder what the atmosphere would be like if they were here in front of you, the whole room teeming with the choral ensemble as they’d tap their fancy shoes along the tile flooring and invite you to dance, too. The thought circles your mind with a smile, and you barely hear the next customer enter when they do.

The little gold bell hanging on the door chimes just once when they enter, indicating the arrival of a man, who promptly rushes to the back shelf without so much as a hello. Welcome, I guess, you want to say, dismissing their curtness with a shake of your head as you go back to organizing records.

You shuffle to the next record, admiring the black and white photo of a man with his guitar, a panama hat atop his curly head of hair as he sings into a microphone. It reminds you of the ones your dad used to collect before he passed.

“Excuse me?” A voice interrupts, and you practically jump, startled at the way he navigates the shop without a sound. He’s right in front of the register now, holding a CD in his hands and setting it down in front of you.

“I’d like to pay,” he continues, his baritone voice sounding painfully uninviting.

Without looking up at him, you take the CD from the counter, flipping it over to scan the barcode on the front. Four Decades of Jazz, the cover simply displaying the title in funky purple block text.

“This one’s actually on clearance,” you say, sliding the CD into a small paper bag. “Just 5.”

He pulls out a brown leather wallet, flipping through crisp bills as he searches for exact change. As he does, you take notice of the collection of silver rings that decorate his shorter fingers, a few of them painted with chipping black nail polish. Your gaze fixates on a thicker silver band, carved with black fleur de lis patterns that circle the band all the way around. You cock your head slightly, mapping out the pattern in your head as his hands move, the ring glistening under a beam of light that shines through the window and sets it aglow.

“It was a gift,” the man says when he notices you staring, and he holds out his index finger, rotating his finger to give you the full view.

You say nothing, your lips parting slightly as he does, transfixed by the way the silver hugs his finger and frames his veiny hands. The man stays silent, his gaze on the ring, too, as he pulls it off with a gentle tug and holds it up for you to see.

“Do you want to see it?” He asks, pinching the band between the pads of his fingers as he rotates it under the same beam of sunlight.

“No, thank you,” you reply, your mind still in a trance. “It just… reminds me of…” and your voice trails off, finally allowing your gaze to look up and meet the stranger’s.

His big brown eyes seem to widen when you finally lock eyes, his plump lips parting open as he scrambles to pull the ring back on.

“Something,” is all you can utter, folding the brown paper bag once in your hands and sliding it across the counter. “It reminds me of somebody I used to know.”

His breath hitches his throat as he finds the words to say, unable to string together a cohesive sentence as memories run rampant in his mind, everything coming back to him like a painful wound being reopened.

“Sorry,” is all he can say, clutching the brown bag in one hand as he gives you a small nod. “And thanks. For the CD. Or for ringing me up, rather. Thank you-”

“You’re welcome,” you reply briskly, pivoting on your heel to organize a stack of already-sorted records on the shelf behind you.

And you can still feel him there for a moment, his gaze boring into the back of your head like he wants to say something. But he doesn’t, instead observing the way your hair, a little shorter than he’d previously remembered it, sways gently in its ponytail as you go about your job.

You listen to the way the brown paper bag crumples in his grasp, before he finally retreats and exits, the little bell above the door indicating his departure.

And when you turn around again, there on the counter, his silver ring sits, glistening in the waning glint of the evening sun.

*

“The lattes are so expensive out there,” Yena says, as she takes a sip from her iced coffee. “I’d drink this gas station coffee any day over that stuff.”

You chuckle lightly, shaking your head as you wipe down the counter with a rag. Chris counts change in the register beside you, muttering counts to himself as he scribbles onto his clipboard and listens to your conversations.

“But hey, we still had a good time,” Yena continues, smiling over at Chris. “Sometimes leaving this town keeps you on your toes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m on my toes enough here as it is,” you respond, the three of you chuckling lightly amongst each other.

The bell atop the door chimes once, signifying the arrival of a new customer, and Chris gestures to the door as you look up.

“All you,” he says, going back to his work.

You fold the rag neatly, setting it on the counter and making your way over to the clearance aisle where the stranger stands. His back is turned toward you, his lanky frame towering over stacks of CDs as he thumbs through them casually.

“Can I help you find anything?” You chime in, your hands behind your back as you watch him. As you speak, he turns to face you, and you breathe a deep sigh of annoyance.

“Seriously?” You say, already retreating back to the counter again and turning away from him.

“Wait,” he calls, rushing after you and standing in front of the counter awkwardly. Chris looks up from his clipboard, furrowing his brows together as Yena shoots him an equally questioning look.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” you respond, unfolding the rag again and wiping down the register.

“Hey, hey,” Chris says, giving you a confused look.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say to Chris through gritted teeth, brushing off the interaction.

“I just wanted to-” the man begins, as he looms behind the counter, fiddling with his fingers nervously.

“Why would you come back?” You question, not looking at him still. “Wasn’t one time awkward enough?”

“I left my ring,” he finally says, dropping his hands at his sides.

Both your gazes fall to your hands, where the silver band rests comfortably on your index finger, almost like it’s always been yours.

“Yeah, whatever,” you reply, pulling it off and sliding it across the counter to him. “Here.”

He doesn’t say anything, not yet reaching for the ring, nor telling you to put it back on. A part of him is fascinated at the prospect you chose to wear it around at all.

The silence that falls over the shop is painfully awkward, Chris and Yena keeping their gazes locked between the two of you as you angrily scrub at a stain on the counter.

“Hey,” Chris says, finally pulling the rag from your grasp. “You’re scratching the wood, kiddo.”

“If no one wants that ring, give it here,” Yena says with a smile.

The ring is slowly lifted from the counter again, slid back onto the finger of its respective owner.

“We’ll give you guys a minute,” Chris says, motioning to the back room with the tilt of his head. And Yena follows him to the back, the till of the register balanced in his arms.

“What do you want?” You ask, finally meeting his gaze again. “I’m working right now.”

His face drops a little, giving you a small shrug before he speaks.

“I was just wondering how you were doing. And I thought-”

“Felix,” you say brazenly, your heartbeat quickening a little at the feeling of his name leaving your lips again after so long. “Cut the small talk. Just tell me why you’re here.”

He sighs as he fiddles with the band around his finger, the metal still warm from the contact against your skin.

“That’s it,” he explains. “I didn’t expect to see you here. And I wondered how you were doing.”

“So leaving your ring here wasn’t an elaborate plan to come back for it?”

“It… was,” he says sheepishly. “I needed an excuse to come see you again.”

“We sell records,” you emphasize. “That’s the only reason you should be here. And if it’s not, then leave.”

“Y/n,” Felix says frustratedly. His eyebrows arch up in an almost pleading manner, his lips quivering as he struggles to find the words to say.

It’s the first time you take notice of his changed appearance, completely opposite to the Felix you last spoke to. His once blonde locks are grown out, grazing over his bony shoulders, a robust shade of ebony that contrasts against his pale skin, tied up into a half ponytail. His plump lips glisten under a glossy coat of peach tint, and his freckles are almost unnoticeable from this distance. You furrow your brows to get a better look, trying to make out the beige constellations you remember so well. But you can’t locate them- not on his nose, or his cheeks or even around his eyes.

He dresses differently, too, a baggy white tank top under a black leather vest, almost too big for him as it swallows his lean figure. And he flaunts a hefty collection of silver jewelry- rings, rows of ear piercings, a chain link bracelet and layered necklaces. If you didn’t know his eyes like the back of your own hand, you might’ve not even recognized him to be Felix.

“What are you doing here, anyway?” You finally ask, your voice softening a little as he toys with the rings on his fingers.

“This is my favorite place for CDs,” he responds, his shoulders relaxing a little as he speaks. “I used to come here every weekend back in high school. I didn’t know you worked here now, I promise I’m not trying to make things weird.”

You sigh a little, shifting your eyes to the shelves and then back at him.

“Well what are you doing here now? Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

Felix shrugs a little, his expression unchanging. “It’s complicated, I guess.” And then he furrows his brows at you, gesturing to the shop. “I could ask you the same question.”

“It’s complicated,” you reply, echoing his statement back at him. “And I’m not in the mood to indulge you with the story of my life.”

“I have time,” Felix says with a chuckle, and he’s met with your deafening silence.

“Sorry,” he follows, fiddling again with the rings on his fingers.

As you begin to ask him to leave, Chris and Yena enter from the back room again, carefully making their way toward you with hands shoved in their pockets.

“Hey,” Yena says, nudging you gently. “Everything okay, you guys?”

“Yes,” Felix is quick to chime in. “My apologies- I’m Felix,” he says with a beaming smile, holding out his hand to shake Yena and Chris’. They comply, exchanging warm smiles with him, still confused at why you seem so irate.

“I’m sorry to disrupt the peace,” Felix continues, giving them a little bow. “We’re just-”

“Old friends,” you interrupt, rolling your eyes at this act he puts on. “And he was just leaving.”

“Right,” Felix says, his lips pulling into a disheartened expression.

“Y/n doesn’t bring too many friends around here,” Chris chimes in. “What’s the rush to leave?” He chuckles as he finishes, and Yena hits him lightly as if signaling for him to stop.

“Actually,” Felix begins, and you sigh when you realize he’s not done talking yet. “I was wondering if you wanted to grab dinner, or a coffee or something.”

“Felix, I really don’t think-”

“It’s on me if you wanna come to the diner tomorrow,” Yena chimes in. “We still have leftover pie.”

And you pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing deeply as Felix stares at you with a hopeful expression. His eyes are big, gauging your response curiously as you shift your gaze amongst the three of them. Chris watches Yena, who holds her breath as you think. And Felix’s lip seems to quiver when you open your mouth to speak.

“No dinner. Just coffee. And Chris covers my closing shift.”

*

Felix is at the diner much earlier than you are, comfortably reserving a spot for you on a table in the middle of the room and allowing Yena to fill your mugs with hot coffee. He adds three packs of sugar, two cups of creamer and a dollop of whipped cream he requests from Yena. And he waits for you patiently, stacking the spare cups of creamer into an organized pyramid, in between nervous glances out the window.

Yena wants to ask who he is exactly- why you’d seemed so off yesterday, and whether he’s here for a reason, or just to catch up as the old friends you claim to be. But she refrains, knowing to stay out of your business the way you so graciously stay out of hers.

“More coffee?” Yena asks as she approaches Felix, taking note of the near empty mug in front of him now.

“Sure,” Felix replies, shooting her a nervous smile. His hands tremble a little as he shoves the pyramid of creamers away from him, pretending to look occupied with his phone instead.

Yena fills his mug to the brim again, sliding him the mug across the table and giving him an empathetic look.

“I’m sure she’ll be here,” Yena says, nodding affirmatively. “She’s usually a little late getting off work.”

And Felix just nods, keeping his gaze on the giant glass windows. Outside, the sun has already set for the evening, darkened skies casting over the little square of Ember. The streets are sparse at this hour, just a few pedestrians who also flock here after their shifts, and the diner is fairly empty with the exception of a few young couples. Felix scans the atmosphere as he waits, observing the way everybody seems so acquainted with the place. Red vinyl booths line the large glass windows, dimly lit by hanging pendant lamps that give a yellow hue to the wooden tables below them. Each table is neatly paired with a silver napkin holder, salt and pepper shakers, hot sauce and a myriad of syrup flavors. And a bright neon red sign advertising fresh pies flickers over the kitchen, which is hidden behind silver swinging doors. It looks like something straight out of a movie, he thinks to himself, as a table nearby is served steaming plates of omelets and fries. And as Felix turns his attention back toward the glass windows, he finally sees you approaching, earbuds in and a nonchalant expression on your face. Your hair is tucked loosely behind your ears, a simple ensemble of loose fitting jeans and a sweater complementing your worn down sneakers. The bell on the door chimes as you make your way inside, a smile on your face as you talk briefly with Yena upon entering. And she gestures back to Felix, who gives a little wave from where he’s sitting, in time for his third coffee refill of the evening.

“This isn’t my table,” you say to Felix when you approach, gathering your mug of coffee and gesturing to your favorite booth against the window. Felix’s eyes flicker to the booth, a confused expression on his face as you wait for him to relocate.

“Well? Are you coming, or what?”

“Yeah, um, sorry,” Felix responds, clutching his mug in one hand and carefully bringing it across the room to the booth.

You furrow your eyes when you look back at the table, a tall pyramid of creamer cups placed where Felix was sitting.

Felix slides in the booth across from you, gesturing to your mug and meeting your gaze.

“Do you take cream? Or sugar?”

“Just two,” you say, picking your cups from the little bowl at the end of the table and tearing them open.

He nods, stirring his coffee around with a spoon as you prepare yours.

“Let me guess,” you say with a knowing smile. “8 packs sugar, 4 things of creamer and an entire can of whipped cream.”

He chuckles lightly, angling you the contents of his cup, which now contains a mixture of frothy melted cream and coffee the color of chocolate milk.

“You always did have a sweet tooth,” you respond, laughing and shaking your head. “Might as well just have a sundae while you’re at it.”

When you’re finished, you hold your mug in both hands, taking a generous sip of the steamy beverage and setting it back down with a gentle thud. Felix watches you intently, like he’s waiting for you to initiate the conversation, but you don’t, raising your eyebrows at him as you wait for him to speak.

“I’m just visiting for a bit,” Felix finally says, twiddling his thumbs on the table in front of him. “I’m doing my classes remotely this semester.”

You nod, saying nothing, as he searches for more words to say.

“Are your classes remote, too?” He continues.

“There are no classes,” you interrupt quickly, before he can press you for more information about school. “I dropped out of college.”

“You did?” Felix retorts, his eyes widening a little at how easily you admit to it. Not an ounce of shame, like it was planned from the start.

“Why?” He follows, tracing mindless patterns into the wood of the table below him.

“Because I hated it. Anything else you want to know?”

“Why are you all the way out here?”

“Because I love it here.”

“And how are your parents?”

“My dad died. Last spring. Are we done now?”

Felix swallows nervously, averting your gaze as he taps his knee nervously under the table.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

You just nod at him, pursing your lips a little and toying with the handle on your mug.

“Are you going to tell me about yourself, or do I need to play 20 questions, too?” You ask him, rolling your eyes as a smile grows on his face.

Felix chuckles lightly, relieved that you’ve already forgiven his clear overstepping here.

“I’m still in college. I’m just… undecided. I took a semester off a little while ago because I don’t know what I want to do. I haven’t actually been to class physically in… a good while.”

You nod empathetically at his words, the reality of them contradictory to the Felix you once knew. He was a straight A student when you knew him last, quick to join campus clubs and gain popularity wherever he went. People often commented on how different both of you were from each other- Felix, a bright young student who could light up a room with his smile, always so eager to ask questions and familiarize himself with the world around him. And you, a bit more reserved, your world often tainted by the reality of the hardships you’d faced, and the knowledge that life, when not lived for yourself, is often arduous.

“So you’re doing a bit of soul-searching,” you say to Felix, no stranger to the concept of tourists stopping through here to ‘start life anew’ at the sight of run-down coffee shops and bookstores. And when they find what they’re looking for, they’re gone again, like a soul could never thrive here in the town of Ember, even if it’s where it materialized.

“You could say that,” he responds, swirling the remainder of whipped cream around his cup with a spoon. “Things just haven’t been… great.”

You nod in response, averting his gaze as you study the wooden table below him.

“Well good luck,” you finally say, taking a generous gulp of your coffee and scanning the room for Yena before the conversation can go any further than the base-level declarations of your new separate lives.

“Do you remember that night we snuck out of your house?” Felix asks suddenly, just as you begin to get up.

“What?”

“It was raining. I think it was like 3 in the morning.”

You turn to face him again, narrowing your eyes as he speaks.

“I didn’t have a car at the time,” Felix continues. “So you rode on the handles of my bike in the pouring rain. We went to watch the sunrise, only we didn’t realize that of course because we were in the middle of a storm, there was-”

“No visible sunrise,” you interrupt quietly. “We just watched the clouds turn a lighter shade of gray.”

Felix grins a little as you finish, nodding his head.

“Exactly. And when we got home at 5am, your dad was already awake. And he’d never met me before- we swore he’d have it out for me. But he didn’t- he brought us blankets, and he made us tea and laughed his ass off at our stupidity.”

“There’s no sunrise in a fucking storm!” You exclaim, echoing your dad’s lighthearted lecture from so long ago.

Felix laughs with you, the warm memory circling your minds, both of you equally as endeared by the tale you so vividly remember. As your laughter dies down, Felix keeps his gaze on yours, shooting you a half smile as he speaks again.

“Your dad really loved you. And… it’s one of my favorite memories, even today.”

You hold his gaze too, clutching the handle of your mug again and giving him a small nod, your lip quivering a little at the mention of your father.

“Thanks, Felix,” you say in a melancholy tone, taking a deep breath in an attempt to hold back your tears.

When the feeling’s passed, Felix spoons another dollop of whipped cream into his cup and brings it up to his lips.

“Your hair’s shorter,” he says with a chuckle.

“Yours is longer,” you retort. “And black.”

“I’m trying something new.”

“I can tell,” you say, laughing lightly. “And what’s with all the screws and washers in your ears?”

“My piercings?” He replies. “They’re a fashion statement!”

“They look painful.”

“This one was,” Felix says, toying with the silver helix piercing in his lobe.

“And this one,” his fingers trail down to another silver stud, just below the first. “And maybe this one.”

“At what point is this just inflicting pain on yourself for fun?”

“I’m not finished!” Felix says, as you both share amused laughter. He thumbs over another row of silver studs, thinking intently as he speaks. “This one hurt, this one definitely hurt…”

*

“How was your dinner thing last night?” Chris asks in the morning, shooting you a knowing smile as he breaks a new roll of quarters in the till.

“Coffee,” you emphasize.

“Coffee,” he echoes. “How was coffee, with your old friend?”

“It was okay,” you respond, organizing a stack of records on the shelf across the counter. “Just catching up, mostly.”

“Yena said you guys were there for hours.”

“Maybe we were.”

“Hours?” Chris repeats, shaking his head. “What could you have possibly talked about that lasted hours?”

“Friend stuff,” you reply to him. “Maybe if you had some, you’d know.”

“Ouch, kiddo,” he says, clutching his chest in a joking manner as you both laugh.

As you turn to grab another stack of records, the bell over the door chimes, and your heads snap in the direction of the noise. And like you’d accidentally spoken him into existence again, Felix saunters in, a shy smile on his face. He looks a little more casual this time, in just jeans and a black t-shirt, but still different than you remembered him nonetheless.

“Speak of the angel,” Chris mutters, nudging you with his elbow as he waves at Felix.

“Hi,” Felix says cheerfully. “It’s nice and warm in here. Outside’s really cold.”

“Felix, what are you doing here?” You sigh, averting Chris’ shit-eating grin.

“What? I’m buying some CDs.”

“We have a good amount on clearance,” Chris says from where he’s standing. “Back shelf.”

“Thanks!” Felix replies, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance.

“Chris, would you give us a minute?”

And he nods, shooting Felix a thumbs up, before disappearing to the back room with a stack of papers.

“Look,” you begin, turning to Felix. “Last night was fun and all, but I’m still working a job. This doesn’t just make amends or something. It was great catching up, but respectfully, I really don’t want to see you again.”

Felix nods a little, and then he hoists something over his arm. It’s the first time you take notice of it- a black crossbody satchel, draped over one arm, his hand resting casually on the zipper.

“Then I suppose getting help for my project is a no?”

You narrow your eyes at him, gesturing to the bag with a tilt of your head. “What’s in the bag?”

“You don’t get to know if you don’t help me.”

“Just tell me.”

“Promise you’ll help me.”

“Felix-”

He holds the bag a little further away from his body, effectively shielding it from your view and shaking his head. “And it was such a good surprise, too.”

“Just tell me what’s in the stupid bag!”

Felix finally holds the bag out in front of him, unzipping it and carefully pulling out its contents. He reveals a digital camera to you, slinging the strap over his neck and holding it up to squint into the lens. “Smile!”

“What- that’s it?” You question, shielding your face from his view. “How does this pertain to me?”

“I’m photographing the town,” he replies, fidgeting with the lens in his hands. “I need some help.”

“Why would you need my help with that? I’m not a photographer.”

“Yeah but you know this town, and all of its little quirks.”

“There’s a maps app on your phone for a reason, Felix.”

Felix gets quiet again as he fidgets with the lens on his camera, doing nothing particularly useful as he prays you’ll change your answer. And he’s not lying- he does need to photograph this town, and all of its hidden gems for his creative project this semester. But he would be lying if he said having you keep him company wasn’t all he thought about when he went to bed last night, and woke up this morning and inevitably found himself back at your record shop.

“You used to be the best model,” Felix says just above a whisper, letting his camera hang loosely at his waist now. “I still have all my film photos of you.”

The room gets a little quiet as you meet his gaze, not missing the way his eyes seem to soften into a somber expression. He’s always had this way of begging- pleading for what he wants, and you’ve very seldom been able to say no to him. Seeing him stand in front of you now, heavy camera in his small hands and a dream circling his mind, you know the fact still stands true.

“If I do this for you, this is the last favor I run you.”

His lips pull into a toothy smile, his eyes forming little crescents as he nods eagerly.

“I promise. I won’t ask you for anything else.”

When Chris reenters the room, he shoots you a questioning look, which you wave off with a casual roll of your eyes.

“What time are you off today?” Felix asks, and Chris purposely nudges you as he passes by.

“Later. Just come by at closing or something.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Do you want me to bring a coffee or anything-”

“See you at closing, Felix,” you respond with a smile, and you gesture back to the door.

He nods, seeing himself out, camera firmly grasped in his two hands as he waves again through the window.

*

Felix drives the same shitty car he did when you last knew him. Its chipped navy blue exterior clashes horribly with the beige leather seats, the inside tainted by the permanent odor of cigarettes from its previous owner, Felix making futile efforts to mask the smell with pine tree air fresheners. The seatbelts are frayed, the legroom is nearly nonexistent and the live radio is completely busted, with the exception of the CD player.

“All jazz?” You question, shuffling through a neat book of Felix’s CD collection.

“Yeah,” Felix replies, two hands gripping the steering wheel as he adjusts in his seat. “They’re mostly just whatever’s cheapest.”

“I can tell,” you say with a chuckle, reaching the last page, where Four Decades of Jazz now occupies a sleeve of its own. You pop the CD into the player, turning the volume up a few notches and sitting back comfortably as the melodic tune of a saxophone fills the space around you.

“What’s this next place again?” Felix asks, as you shut your eyes and listen to the jazzy beat.

You’ve stopped at three locations already, all spots in Ember you’re particularly fond of. The old bridge that runs over train tracks, a narrow pathway into another world in late evenings. It’s always surrounded by starlings, which flock when the trains pass through and chirp songs that mirror the train’s cacophonous whistle.

The cathedral just north of your record shop, which you don’t attend regularly like the other town-goers do, but always greets you graciously with its towering stained glass windows and crested walls.

And a now abandoned grocery store just a few blocks away, the walls on the back now housing impressive graffiti murals and doodles.

“This last one is a more scenic spot,” you finally respond, opening your eyes as his car passes over a speed bump. “It’s my favorite one.”

Felix just nods as he continues driving, the road narrowing into a one-way route, the area surrounded by wet grassland and barely visible amidst the thick fog.

“What’s the whole premise of this project?” You ask him, realizing you haven’t quite figured out what part you play in this, anyway.

Felix is silent for a moment, his hands rotating over the wheel as he turns into another narrow road.

“It’s just a photography project. About observing your surroundings.”

“Why does it have to be here?”

And he smiles, chuckling lightly to himself, as he reaches a hand out and sprawls his palm over your mouth.

“You ask so many questions! You haven’t changed at all.”

You respond in muffled laughter, prying his hand off your mouth with two hands and shoving it back toward the steering wheel.

“I’m just curious!”

Your shared giddy laughter fills the car for several minutes, exchanging amused glances as he pulls into an open parking lot and circles around to look for a spot. And you let your fingertips graze along your cheek, briefly, remembering the sensation of his hand on you very well.

*

The fourth spot is a spacious grassland just past the hills, not necessarily a hidden gem by the town’s standards, but a place you discovered shortly after you moved out here. It requires hopping a fence to access, jogging down a steep dirt path and then marching back up a grassy hill to make it to your “sweet spot”- or a little dip in the top of the hill, perfect for setting up a picnic blanket and sitting upon for hours.

And of course the best part about it- the view. The whole town is visible from up here, the little buildings and shops you know so intimately an entirely different perspective from this height. Sometimes you imagine what you look like from this view- just a tiny speck of a human in a town not much bigger, crossing back and forth between your apartment, the diner and the record shop.

“You got it?” You ask Felix as he hoists himself up the last stretch of grass, balancing his camera in his hands and dusting off his jeans.

“Yeah,” he replies, coming around to occupy the spot next to you on the grass. You sit back on your hands, your legs crossed at the ankles as you take in the view you know so well. Felix sits cross-legged, toying with the lens of his camera as he prepares to snap a few photos.

“It’s nice up here,” he comments, filling the silence with the clicking noises of his camera.

“Yeah,” you respond shortly, your gaze fixed on the record shop. “It’s a pretty special place.”

He turns the lens, bringing his camera up and snapping a series of photos as you watch him out of your peripheral vision.

“How’d you find it?” Felix asks, scanning the photos and going to take another set.

“I get around,” you reply with a smile, keeping your answer short.

He takes one last set of photos, angling his camera at different sides, and when he’s done, he carefully places the camera in his carrier bag and leans back on his hands, too.

“You really have things figured out here,” Felix says a little quietly, turning to look at you while you keep your gaze straight ahead.

“I didn’t have a choice. It was up to me to keep things going.”

“And… how’s your mom?” He replies quietly.

You shake your head, adjusting your position so that you’re sitting cross-legged, too.

“I don’t know. Last I heard she was out west. New boyfriend or something.”

Felix nods reluctantly, not wanting to press the issue further.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he chimes in suddenly. “I hope you didn’t leave thinking that.”

“It’s fine,” you reply, brushing him off.

“No, listen to me,” Felix continues, turning to face you. “I know you hate talking about it. And I won’t bring it up again. But none of this was your fault. And that summer I wanted so badly to fix everything and take away your pain, and I just… I couldn’t. And I’m sorry.”

You don’t say anything to him, fidgeting with a blade of grass on the ground below you and reminding yourself to keep it together. Don’t cry. Don’t feel.

“You’re doing that thing again,” Felix says bluntly, like he can read your thoughts.

“What thing-”

“That thing. Where you don’t let yourself feel.”

“I feel a lot of things, Felix.”

“Then why haven’t we talked about it yet?”

“Talked about about what?”

“Why you left,” he finally finishes, huffing frustratedly. “Why are we not addressing it? Am I supposed to just act like it didn’t happen?”

“Felix, I really think-”

“You said you would stay and fight for what was ahead of us. And then you disappeared on me. You know how hard it was to go on with my life like you weren’t a missing person for all I knew? You didn’t even call.”

“I changed my number,” you say quietly.

“Yeah, I figured that much after three years.”

Felix gets quiet again, shaking his head as he turns his gaze back to the view. You don’t say anything for a moment, his words swirling in your mind as your heart beats erratically. There’s so much to say- so much you want to explain to him. But the words are caught in the back of your throat, dissipating with every passing second you fail to vocalize them. He glances at you again, hoping you’ll come around- but you don’t, your gaze now transfixed on the blade of grass that rolls between the pads of your fingers.

“I understand if you don’t want to talk about it,” Felix finally says. “And… I’m sorry.”

A copper sunset falls over the buildings below you, casting shadows around you that dance along the blades of grass and disappear over the rolling hills. They shift from massive charcoal forms into smaller shapes that sway with the setting sun, quick to get away from you and disappear when they graze over your seated figures.

“You know there was a fire here, like, 50 years ago,” you say to Felix, still averting eye contact.

“There was?”

“Mhm. See there?” You question, pointing out a vast, empty field and gesturing to the buildings across from it.

“It started east, and it traveled west. And everything there burned, and a few people even died.”

“Wow,” Felix responds. “I didn’t know that. That’s terrible.”

“A lot of the neighboring cities didn’t know this place existed. But when they heard about the fire, many of them came out here, just to donate and help build things back up. Even the record shop burned. The one we have now is a lot smaller.”

He nods as he listens to your story, glancing back at the town as he pictures the blazing flames that ate away most of its structure back then.

“I always think about it,” you continue. “Everyday I imagine how hard it must’ve been to pick up and build things from the ground up again. Chris’ grandfather did it, with the record shop. And the diner did it. And they’re still doing it, keeping things running the way they are.”

Felix nods again, turning to look at you as you watch the town.

“No one could’ve prevented the fire. They could pick up and move on, but things still burned before they did, and people still died.”

Felix begins to say something, his lips parting, but his breath hitches in the back of his throat, and he settles in silence as you finish.

“I’m somewhere there,” you say to him after a silent pause. “I’m somewhere between the fire and the mending.”

And he doesn’t have to say anything else, understanding that this is your way of explaining things.

As darkness begins to fall over you both, you think back to the last time you sat with him like this, on the old hill in your hometown, waiting for a sunrise that never came around. You had passed the time kissing and touching each other so desperately, speaking visions of a new life into existence and making hushed promises to embrace the end together. An end that came to fruition without him, one you ran from before could look it in its face and brave it with Felix by your side.

But here on the familiarity of your hill, looking over a town that burned like the flames inside of you do now, you know there’s good, there are people who will make the journey to help you rebuild no matter what their reservations previously were. But it also takes time, and patience, and the strength to admit things have turned to ash in the first place.

And sometimes, like this town, things and people turn to Ember, a dim glowing reminder of what happened always present still.

*

Soul-searching capital of the world. 6:00pm. On the cusp of winter.

“Think you’re ready?” You query at Felix, pulling the straw out from your vanilla milkshake to lick the other end.

“I think so,” he responds, sorting through a stack of photos on the table.

“Felix, your whipped cream,” Yena says as she turns the corner and sets a small bowl down in front of him.

“Thank you,” Felix replies with a small smile, already spooning a generous amount into his coffee.

The last two weeks have been cordial between the two of you, a sense of normalcy finally present during your time together as Felix wrapped up his photography shots and developed them at the convenience store in town. The pictures are beautiful, little precious neutral-toned glimpses into your everyday life and the town you love so much. It feels like Felix finally understands you, neither pressing you for answers anymore, nor trying to initiate anything more between the two of you like you’d feared. And although the photography sessions have spanned a little more time than you’d originally anticipated they would, you’re well aware this will all be over soon, and then you can get back to the normal, simple life you lead, without having to look introspectively at the state of things. You’re fine, and Felix doesn’t force you to think about it anymore.

“I just have to submit these, and then I’ll be done for the semester,” Felix explains.

“Are you staying in town for the holidays?” You ask suddenly, realizing you’ve never even inquired what his plans are for after this photography project is finished.

“I don’t know,” Felix responds, glancing at the stack of photos. “I don’t really have any solid plans.”

You don’t miss the way he fidgets with the ring on his finger, averting your gaze and swallowing nervously. It’s another habit Felix possesses, getting you to drag him along practically anywhere, but it’s hard to say no when he makes every effort to be so polite and forgiving.

You sigh deeply, praying you won’t regret the words before they leave your mouth.

“Look, a couple friends I have throw a party every year around the holidays. We just get together to smoke and talk. You can come, if you want.”

Felix’s expression brightens almost instantly, meeting your gaze again with big hopeful eyes and a beaming smile.

“Really?”

“Don’t make it weird,” you say, chuckling softly. “It’s just a small thing to unwind.”

“I’ll be there,” Felix responds with a nod. “And I won’t make it weird, I promise.”

“So…” Yena teases, sliding into the booth across from you and raising her eyebrows. “What’s… going on between you two?”

“Who?” You question, cocking your head slightly.

“Oh come on,” she emphasizes. “You guys are attached at the hip. We barely get girl time together anymore. He can’t just be an old friend.”

“He is,” you voice back. “We just go way back, that’s all.”

“He’s cute,” she says, glancing out the window at Felix’s lanky figure making his way back to his car. You both watch as he struggles to get his car open, yanking on the door handle a little hard and stumbling back.

“Well he’s single,” you retort with a soft chuckle. “So if you ever get tired of Chris, he’s your guy.”

“I see the way he looks at you,” Yena explains, as she pulls out her notepad and adds her tips for the evening. “Like he has stars in his eyes or something. I remember when Chris and I met, he was a lot like that.”

“Yena, we’re really not-”

“I know,” she says, shaking her head with a smile. “Feelings, feelings. Yuck. I’m just saying.”

You turn your gaze toward the window again, watching as Felix starts his car and backs out of the parking lot, strands of his ebony hair falling into his eyes as he checks behind him.

And Yena smiles, taking notice out of her peripheral vision at the stars in your eyes, too.

*

Seungmin’s annual holiday party is a tradition you joined in on the first year you moved out here. Working at the record shop your first year, you had no friends, no family and you were completely isolated from the town when you weren’t picking up shifts. He was a regular customer with a knack for old rock records, and he pitied the shifts you worked while the rest of the town mingled at their annual holiday events you’d hear so much about. An invitation to his holiday party was a big feat for you, not only because it was one of the first events you attended here, but because it allowed you to spend the holidays alongside people again, something you hadn’t done since your father’s passing. And thus, Seungmin invites you back every year, never missing a chance to talk records with you and challenge you to eggnog shots.

“I just want to pop these in the trunk really quick,” you say as you open the car door on the passenger side and gesture for the key from Felix. “I usually lend Seungmin a few spare records we have-”

Felix hasn’t registered a word you’ve said, completely entranced by the way your short skirt hugs your hips, a black leather coat thrown over your shoulders and a different pair of sneakers than he’s used to seeing. It’s much different than how he’s normally seen you, dressed down in sweaters and baggy jeans.

And Felix looks particularly dashing, too, his ebony hair tied up again to display his impressive collection of ear piercings, a fitted leather jacket hugging his slim figure and black jeans that elongate his legs. You give him a once-over as he cranes his neck from the driver’s seat and tosses you the keys, unable to verbalize his regard for your outfit. But as you make your way around the car to the trunk, popping it open and placing Seungmin’s stack of records inside, he can’t help but stare in the interior view mirror at the way your skirt rides up when you bend over, exposing a little more of your thighs and leaving little to the imagination.

The drive to Seungmin’s is only a few blocks down from Ember Records, one which Felix completes while stealing very obvious glances at you and making every attempt to calm his erratically beating heart. You pretend the glances go unnoticed, keeping your gaze on the darkened road ahead and making small talk about the party. But you don’t miss the way Felix’s voice hitches in the back of his throat when he speaks, his trembling hands turning the wheel as he pulls into the cul-de-sac and puts the car in park.

And he wants nothing more than to stay here, with you, to sit in his dingy little car and talk with you about everything that happened, to assure you that you’re not alone in your process of mending- he’ll love you through it, regardless. But as Seungmin makes his way out the front door with a red solo cup in hand, calling loudly for you, Felix knows that’s not a possibility.

“Y/n!” Seungmin exclaims, a big toothy grin plastered on his face at the sight of you. He’s a bit taller than Felix is, long legs that frame his slim torso, and a chiseled jawline that makes Felix a little jealous. His voluminous chocolate tresses fall into his eyes as he speaks, and he uses a slender hand to push them away again, shooting you another flashy smile as he chuckles lightly.

“What’d you bring me this time?” He asks, balancing the presumed cup of alcohol in one hand as he watches you retreat to the trunk of the car.

“Couple rock, some alternative and that one artist you liked last time?”

“Hell yeah,” Seungmin replies, as he takes the records from your grasp and shuffles through them eagerly.

Felix clears his throat as he stands beside you, his hands shoved awkwardly in the pockets of his leather jacket as he waits for an introduction.

“Sorry,” you voice, stepping aside and gesturing to Felix.

“This is Felix. He’s an old friend of mine.”

Seungmin hardly looks up from his stack of records, just briefly glancing at Felix and giving him a small nod.

“Hey man. Cool to meet you.”

And Felix’s lips pull into a thin-lipped smile, averting his gaze, too, as he nods.

“Yeah. Same.”

Your eyes dart between Seungmin and Felix, both of them painfully awkward as they stand beside you, avoiding eye contact like some unspoken challenge and looming over you like you’re meant to be the host.

“Should we get inside?” You finally ask, wrapping your arms around yourself and gesturing to the house with a tilt of your head.

“Yeah, sorry,” Seungmin says with a soft chuckle, still averting Felix’s gaze and pivoting on his heel to begin toward the house. Felix gestures for you to follow, trailing behind you and doing his best to steady his nerves as the three of you finally make your way inside.

The house is already crowded for the evening, people standing just about everywhere, red cups in hand and joints pinched between their fingers. They exhale white clouds of smoke as they converse amongst themselves, their eyes all tainted red, as they let all the weed and alcohol consume their consciousness and instill a calm demeanor in themselves. Felix finds himself standing a little closer to you as you approach the sofa everyone’s sitting around, their bodies lazily slung over one another as they chat and drink.

“Y/n’s here,” Seungmin says, as he passes the sofa and heads into what Felix presumes to be his bedroom, with the stack of records in hand.

“Hey!” They call in misarticulated voices. You make your rounds, greeting each of them and exchanging brief anecdotes with them, while Felix remains standing with his hands in his pockets, his eyes fixed on the way you smile cheerfully and acquaint yourself with everyone in the room.

You look so relaxed, so well-adjusted to your new life in this little town. As stories are thrown back and forth between yourself and the guests, Felix wonders how long you’ve known them to be able to converse with them to such an intimate extent. They share stories of your shifts at work, stories of previous parties, tales of past lovers they’ve had and late nights all of you spent up in this exact household. Felix can’t help but wonder what he was doing during those moments- probably studying for a test at university, or hooking up with someone he didn’t exactly care for. And by nighttime, he was likely up thinking of you- pondering where you’d gone, what you were up to. If you thought about him just as much as he thought about you.

Part of him wants to be angry, listening in on your stories like this- you’re laughing about parties, exchanging tales of difficult customers- moments that occurred while he was up waiting for you, hoping one day you’d change your mind about everything and return. Felix swore every sunset began to look the same without you there to watch them alongside him, every sunrise much bleaker than the last- even the stars he’d gaze at through his window seemed to lose their meaning.

But watching you like this, a smile that hasn’t left your face once since entering the house and the familiar sound of your harmonious laughter, he knows maybe you did the right thing, after all. Maybe Felix wasn’t a part of this plan life had for you- and perhaps, it’s time to come to terms with the fact that he never will be.

“Felix?” You question, effectively snapping him out of the trance he’s fallen into just by watching you.

“Huh?” He responds, aware that the row of guests on the couch appear to be waiting for him to say something.

“How long are you here for?” One of them repeats, his stare a little cold as he raises his eyebrows and prompts an answer out of Felix.

“Oh, uh… I’m not sure yet. Just for the holidays, I guess.”

They nod in collective unison, no one saying a word as they gauge how nervous he seems to be. And you shoot them an apologetic smile, also clocking Felix’s awkward demeanor as he remains silent and avoids carrying on with the conversation.

“Anyone got a light?” You finally break the silence, and everyone chimes in to answer, offering you joints from between their fingers and fishing colorful lighters out from their pockets. You take a seat on the rug, patting the space next to you, and Felix follows your lead, crossing his legs in the spot beside you and taking a hit from the joint you offer him.

Felix feels himself calm a little as the mellow sensation begins to wash over him, his worries dissipating as he listens to you begin to share another story with the group of people. And his mind wanders back to the past, contemplating your actions and mirroring them with the current state of things.

Three hours into the party, you’re both a little buzzed, feeling much more mellow than you had upon entering, despite taking only one hit from a joint. The room is heavy with thick clouds of smoke, the pungent smell of weed and alcohol present at every corner of the room. Just sitting here and talking gets you high, and you find yourself enjoying the company alongside Felix.

It reminds you of back then, when you and Felix used to attend parties together and run off to random bedrooms for a quick fuck. You’d often find yourself leaving early to spend time just between the two of you, hitting all your signature spots to catch sunrises or binge greasy food. And Felix feels much more relaxed around you now, making small talk with the guests and observing the way you try your hardest to include him in the conversations. As Seungmin takes another hit from his joint, he slouches back in the concave leather of the couch, his gaze darting over the two of you as Felix eyes you curiously.

“So what’s the deal between you two?” He asks, narrowing his eyes as he awaits a response.

“We’re just old friends-” Felix begins to say, but you interrupt him before Seungmin can catch the answer.

“He’s my best friend.”

Felix’s head snaps in your direction, unsure if maybe he heard you incorrectly, or if you’re genuinely claiming that Felix, whose guts you’ve hated for the better part of three years now, is your best friend.

“Best friends?” Seungmin repeats in slurred speech, and you give him a nod.

“Yeah,” you say again confidently. “He’s my best friend.”

And Felix’s lips pull into an involuntary smile, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red as he reaffirms your words.

When you turn to smile at him, he pats the space in front of him, extending his legs so that he’s created a spot for you to settle in. And in your buzzed, mellowed out state, you comply, scooting back and slotting yourself between his long legs, letting yourself lean back against his chest and shutting your eyes briefly. Felix reluctantly brings two hands around you, holding you a little closer to him, but you don’t protest the action, the familiar sensation of his arms around you feeling comfortable and safe like it always used to.

“I’d think you guys were fucking if I didn’t know any better,” Seungmin voices, joining a chorus of laughter as he brings the joint up to his lips again.

“So what if we were?” You retort casually, feeling the way Felix’s embrace gets a little tighter around you.

“Nothing wrong with it. It’s just easy to see through you guys. Especially the way this Danny from Grease wannabe looks at you.”

And Felix’s eyes furrow at the statement, well aware of the fact that Seungmin’s begun to get a little aggressive, but not wanting to incite anything that might jeopardize your friendships.

“I should probably go,” Felix says just above a whisper, his mouth hovering just over your shoulder so that you can hear him over all the noise.

“What? No,” you reply, turning your head to meet his gaze. His eyes are wide, his lip trembling a little as he speaks. Felix isn’t confrontational- a fact you’re very aware of.

“I don’t want to start anything-” he begins to say, and you place a hand on his forearm comfortingly.

“Then let’s both get out of here. I’m kinda bored, anyway.”

He’s surprised at the offer- and undoubtedly moved by the prospect that you’ve chosen to stick with him instead of stay here at the party with all your friends. And because he wants to spend the time with you, he doesn’t protest when you turn to voice your decisions to the crowd.

“Well Danny from Grease and I are getting out of here. So you can let your imaginations run wild since you’re so obsessed with us.”

Seungmin chuckles lightly, too stoned to ask you to stay, and candidly, to care about any of it.

“My old records are on the kitchen table,” Seungmin says, as he shuts his eyes and exhales a generous cloud of smoke. “Catch you guys later.”

*

“Where are we going?” Felix asks, as he puts the car into park and watches you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“I have to put the records I lent to Seungmin back in the shop. It’ll only take like two minutes.”

He nods in response, his gaze fixed on the darkened record shop, not used to seeing it at this hour.

“You coming?” You ask him, gesturing to the door, and Felix snaps out of his tranced state, unbuckling his seatbelt, too.

As you twist your keys and push the door open, Felix feels a bit unsettled seeing the shop at this hour. The shelves are pitch dark at the hour, the usually colorful vinyl all looking indistinguishable as they sit in stacks against each other and gather dust. The neon sign above the CD wall is shut off, not even the gentle hum of the bulb present amongst the silence. And the doorway to the back room looks like something out of a horror movie, seeming as though someone- or something, could pop out at any given moment. It feels wrong being here- and he knows he probably shouldn’t be, but he’s not in the place to leave your side just yet.

“Don’t turn on the lights,” you say to Felix when you enter, him following closely behind you. “I don’t want anyone to know we’re here.”

You begin toward the back room, glancing over your shoulder to ensure Felix is following. And he is, albeit reluctantly.

The back room is much smaller than Felix had originally anticipated it to be. It smells of paint, looking far more run-down than the rest of the store, and he’s not sure how anyone can take a lunch break back here considering the lack of table space and seating options.

“This is the break room?” Felix asks, squinting his eyes when you pull the chain beside the medallion lamp and illuminate the room with a dim, orange glow.

“Yeah,” you reply, now shuffling through Seungmin’s old records and putting them in their respective genres. “This is where I eat my sandwiches.”

He chuckles softly, running his hands over the series of music posters pinned to the cork walls, taking in the view you see everyday at noon.

“There’s a record player in here!” Felix exclaims, bending down to examine the 6200 marantz wood turntable on a little cart, just to the left of the dining table.

“Well this is a record shop, you reply with a chuckle, slotting the last few of Seungmin’s vinyl into the shelf. “It wouldn’t make sense if we didn’t have one.”

“Does it work?” Felix asks, tracing the silicone grooves of the platter with his fingers.

“Of course,” you respond, finally turning around to meet his gaze. “Pick something.”

Felix scans the shelves at the neat rows of vinyl, all packed together and indistinguishable from their thin colorful spines alone. He pulls one out, examining illustrations of flowers on the cover, and then slots it back into its respective home. Another flaunts an abstract pattern of cool-toned hues, which Felix observes briefly, and places it back where it belongs, too.

“I can’t decide,” he voices plainly, his eyes scanning over the rows that span the entire length of the room, some of them visibly much older than the rest.

Your fingers graze the spines, too; letting the cracked ridges serve as indication of their age, and then you pinch one between the pads of your fingers, pulling it out to examine the cover. It’s painted sky blue, with images of autumnal trees that stand tall and contrast the gentle hues nicely. In bold red cursive text, the title is scrawled at the top, followed by a brief list of credits and arrangements.

“The Seasons, by Tchaikovsky,” you read aloud.

You recall putting this one on the shelf after a donation a few weeks prior, never having listened to it yourself.

“Will you play it?” Felix asks, and you nod your head in response, already pulling out the black disc and placing it neatly on the record platter. You flip it on, and then bring the tonearm to a random spot, letting the cue lever lower it into place and begin playing. After a few seconds of fidgeting with the volume, the soft sounds of piano begin to fill the room, a somber arrangement that slows into gentler, discoordinate notes.

“This one’s probably winter,” you say to Felix, hoisting yourself up on the table and sitting on your hands. “It sounds sad.”

“Yeah,” he responds, his eyes fixated on the slow turn of the disc, a soft crackling noise emitting as the tonearm runs over the grooves.

Felix suddenly reaches for the bag slung over his shoulder, unzipping the pouch and pulling out his camera.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a soft chuckle, amused at the way he so quickly rushes to adjust the settings.

“I want to take a picture. It’s a nice record player.”

And with the rhythmic click of the lens, he snaps a series of photos, angling himself a bit higher to capture every moving part of the old thing. When he’s finished, he examines the photos himself, a small smile tugging at his lips as he looks over the moment in time captured so perfectly on the little screen of his device. Without warning you, Felix then holds the camera up once more, snapping a quick photo of you and chuckling softly to himself.

“Stop!” You say through laughter, holding a hand up to shield your face as he snaps a few more. “Felix, I’m serious!”

“It’s just for me!” Felix exclaims, bringing his camera down again and scrolling through the candid photos.

As he examines them, you notice how close he is to you now, standing in between your legs that hang lazily off the edge of the table, his frame towering over yours.

He meets your gaze again after a moment, taking notice of the proximity, too, and swallowing nervously.

“You used to let me take pictures of you,” Felix says after a moment of silence.

“That was so long ago,” you reply with a smile. “Things are different now.”

His eyes dart over your bare face, your eyes a little hooded from exhaustion and the mellowed state that overtake your body. It’s a sight familiar to him, still, the way you keep your words short when you’re not asking him questions, nothing except a small knowing smile on your face. But it’s one he’s thought about for so long, painting pictures of you in his head and scanning old photos, like your physical state would somehow come to fruition the more he studied it.

“Please let me take a few more,” Felix says, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes flicker between your lips and your gaze. He knows you’re going to say no, go away, or some other version of it.

But this time, you don’t, taking careful note of the way he so politely asks for what he wants. Memories of him have plagued your mind all night, the feeling of his hands around you still lingering on your body, recalling the way he used to ask so politely to fuck you in the bathroom of house parties like you wouldn’t say yes every single time.

And in the absence of your words, you slide your coat off, discarding it on the table behind you and keeping your gaze locked on his, in just a tight-fitting t-shirt and skirt.

Felix brings his camera up immediately, lest you change your mind like he knows you probably will, and adjusts his lens again, before snapping a single photo of you, sitting so innocently on the table in the back room of the record shop. Your expression remains unchallenged, your eyes softening a little as he pulls away to look at you again. And this time, you let two hands cross over your torso, pulling up the corners of your shirt and letting it ride up until it’s nearly off of you. Felix doesn’t waste any time, bringing his camera to eye-level again and snapping a photo eagerly, his eyes wide as he observes the sight of your hardened nipples through the lens.

The discoordinate piano music still plays from behind him, its tempo increasing gradually as you let one hand position itself over the mound of your breast, kneading gently as Felix positions his camera to zoom in. He snaps another set of photos, bringing his camera even closer to capture you at every erotic angle, and then he pauses briefly, as your hands move to your skirt.

You tug gently, not yet pulling it off, and his photos capture the moment you finally undo the small zipper on the side, revealing the hem of your lace panties to him and looping a finger through them. He feels his breath hitch in his throat, wanting to clarify that he’s not forcing you to do any of this, but too mesmerized to ask you to stop.

And then before he can verbalize his thoughts, you’re tugging the skirt down, too, pulling it off over your sneakers to discard it on the floor below you. Felix can’t look away from the sight, your body hugged so delicately in lace lingerie, your legs parted a little for his photos and practically begging him to come touch you. And yet you say nothing, amused at the sight of Felix gasping over your sitting figure, letting him take the reins and do whatever it is he pleases, even if the implications are clouded by your past.

Felix’s slender hands snap a few more photos, focusing meticulously on your clothed core and your hardened nipples for his own personal use. And then he sets his camera down at his waist again, pulling the camera strap off his body and shoving it back into his satchel. When he turns to say something, he can’t, still entranced by the familiar feeling in his stomach at the body he’s bore witness to so many times.

“Felix,” you say softly, coaxing him to come a little closer.

He obliges, lips parted nervously, as he takes another step forward and allows your legs to rest casually on his.

“I meant to ask you,” you say, cocking your head slightly, bringing one hand up to caress his cheek with your thumb.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice just barely above a whisper. “Anything.”

“Where have all your freckles gone?” You finally ask, observing the way his skin still runs completely clear around his cheeks and eyes, not a hint of a galaxy visible to you, even at this proximity to him.

“Makeup,” Felix responds with a soft chuckle. “They didn’t match my new look.”

And you bring your other hand to his other cheek, grazing your thumbs over his soft skin, before pressing down a little harder and wiping the foundation off of him. He’s right- the beige stars you’d remembered so well begin to appear once again, scattered generously across his button nose and his big eyes. He lets you rub it off of him, not taking his eyes off of yours as you rid him clean of the stuff and then graze your thumbs over him again, in much gentler motions.

“That’s better,” you reply, your eyes darting between his now visible freckles and his plump, parted lips. “They’re my favorite part about you.”

And Felix doesn’t respond, his mind running rampant with thoughts and intentions, as he brings his lips a little closer to yours and finally kisses you, like he’s been dreaming of doing all winter.

You reciprocate instantly, your hands cupping the back of his neck as his lips work against yours, desperately leaning into you and letting his hands snake down the sides of your waist. His kisses are familiar, so reminiscent of years past when he’d kiss you exactly like this, in the proximity of whatever house party bathroom you could run off to and let him have his way with you. And Felix remembers the sensation all too well, this mutual pining of silently yearning for each other in the presence of other strangers until he could confess his love to you through whispered love making sessions when you were finally alone. Felix whimpers softly between kisses, as your hands snake up his t-shirt and graze along the toned flesh of his abdomen. You hum in response, letting your hands tangle in his hair now as he presses further into you and works gentle kisses down your neck. Both your hands find his silky ponytail, pulling off his hair tie in one swift motion and tossing it aside so that his long tresses hang loosely in front of his face, and you tangle your fingers in his ebony roots, tugging slightly as you pull him into your embrace and feel him trail back up to your lips. He pulls away momentarily to gauge your expression, worried you might ask him to stop, but your eyes are wide with anticipation, your breaths labored as you pull him into you again and arch your back into him. You can feel Felix smile into the kiss, satisfied with the turn of events from tonight's party- he’d been so certain you would leave with Seungmin, or shut him out again. But here in the dimly lit room of the record shop, your lips on his as your hands trail lower to unbuckle his belt, there’s no denying you want this just as badly as he does.

And Felix can’t help but wonder how long have things been this way- had something changed at the party? Something that would’ve led you to call him a “best friend” rather than an old one, leave the party with him and even drag him to the record shop after hours, knowing very well you could’ve come alone? Something that instilled an equal sense of desperation in you, to want his lips on yours as badly as he does right now, your bodies yearning for each other like you once did, as you undo his belt buckle and snake it out from his belt loops to discard it on the floor?

He’s not entirely sure- but he also can’t think straight when your hands are tugging at the hem of his jeans, begging him to take them off and mirror the same level of undress you are now. What he can think about are your lips working against his, the gasps that escape you when he grazes his fingers down your sides between kisses and the forte echo of Tchaicovsky’s piano record filling the room with sultry harmonies.

As Felix unbuttons his jeans, you help him tug them down so that they’re pooled around his ankles, the two of you now equal parts undressed and grabbing desperately at the now exposed flesh. You let your hand find Felix’s, wrapping your fingers around his slender wrist, and then bringing it to your panties, where you rest his hand against your clothed core and allow him to graze over your growing wetness.

“Jesus,” Felix exhales, pressing his middle and ring finger down against your core and rubbing in slow, back and forth motions. “I forgot how horny you get when you smoke.”

And you chuckle lightly, not breaking eye contact as he continues to rub you over your lace panties, the wetness against your thin fabric increasing with every gentle movement of his fingers.

“Will you do something about it?” You ask sweetly, one hand reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

Felix cocks his head slightly, a smug expression pulling on his lips as he works you a little faster now.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

You chuckle in response, growing impatient as he teases your aching clit over the fabric of your panties and keeps his gaze on yours. He’s calculated with his movements, rubbing in gentle motions, pressing down firmly with every other stroke to watch the way your legs squirm desperately around him and ache for more.

“Don’t make me ask,” you say shyly, your hips rutting toward him to chase the friction of his fingers.

Felix’s gaze drops to your core, his lips parted with curiosity at the sight of you now rocking gently toward him, letting your movements do the pleasing as he almost entirely stops rubbing you.

“What if I wanted you to ask for it?” Felix says briskly, a serious expression on his face as he pulls his hand away from you momentarily.

“Felix, you already know what I-”

“Ask for it,” Felix interrupts, keeping his gaze locked on yours now. His eyes are hooded with lust, his eyebrows slanted in a challenging expression as he waits for you to say something. And he knows he’s never been one to make you ask for it- in fact, he was usually the one doing all the begging, whining when you’d take too long to touch him or begging you to let him finish. But coupled with the recent development of his new look, you can’t help but wonder if it’s not the only thing that’s changed about him.

“Ask for it,” Felix states again. “Or I’ll get dressed again.”

And you can’t bring yourself to, still riddled with questions at the peculiar phenomenon of Felix making you ask for sex, desperate to ask if this is a one-time occurrence, or if he’s intent on getting you to beg for his cock from here on out. Does he make all his hookups beg for it like this? Do they oblige without question, or are they just as taken aback with it as you are?

When Felix takes note of your silence, he doesn’t waste another second, pulling up his jeans again and beginning to work the buttons once more. And you feel your heartbeat quicken at the sight, disheartened at the action and still desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, like your body’s been craving the past hour you’ve been back here.

In a desperate attempt to stop him, your hands reach out, grasping his wrists in yours and watching the way his cock remains tented under the denim fabric of his jeans.

“Please,” you say shortly, a sheepish pout on your face.

“Please what?” He responds, cocking his head to gauge your reaction.

“Please would you fuck me?” You finally say, exhaling frustratedly and flickering your gaze away from him, almost embarrassed to be asking him like this. But Felix’s lips pull into a toothy grin, leaning back into you for a kiss and beginning to work his jeans off of him again.

“Was that so hard?” He mumbles against your lips teasingly.

“Mhm,” you murmur back against him, hearing his jeans pool around his ankles once again as his hands cup around the small of your back.

“It was?” Felix queries, one hand looping through the hem of your panties and grazing along the elastic. “If I remember correctly, we used to play this little game all the time.”

You gasp a little as he pulls the elastic between the pads of his fingers, letting it snap against your delicate skin again and rest against your reddened skin momentarily. Felix observes the way you say nothing, waiting for him to undress you, touch you- anything, without so much as a plea for him to do so. And he’s undeniably roused seeing you this desperate for him, adjusting your position on the table to calm your pulsating core, your hands searching for him and your lips trying so hard to keep purchase on his. Felix feels his cock swell at the confirmation that perhaps you have been thinking of this just as much as he has, and that maybe leaving was the hardest thing you ever did, the way he always hoped it was.

“Are you sure about this?” Felix asks before he can ponder the words.

And in painfully slow movements, you find the hem of your elastic waistband yourself, tugging it down and breaking away from the kiss to snake it off your ankles and discard it onto the floor. The sight alone is confirmation enough for him- your pussy is glistening with wetness, your folds coated generously in your own arousal and your aching clit a robust shade of pink as you wait for him to finish his little game of neglect. Felix can’t even respond at the sight of your cunt on display for him, too engrossed in the familiarity of what it looked like all those past years, exactly like this, begging for him and only him. On the counters of bathroom sinks, in empty fields, in the back of your car and even when his fingers were shoved in it under blankets in a room full of people. Always taking him so wholly and effortlessly, like your cunt was made to have him fill it, squirming around him with hushed moans and whimpers, your bodies intertwining into one tangled mess of pleasure and pure, unadulterated love for one another.

“Felix, please fuck me,” You repeat, a small smirk on your face as you watch Felix stumble over his words, his cock fully erect in the fabric of his boxers.

And Felix can’t answer you, already attaching his lips to yours again and letting his hands come around your back to unclasp your bra. His motions are much quicker now, no lingering intention to make you ask for it or confirm your stance- but every intention to fuck you, fill you, like he knows you deserve.

When your bra is unfastened, he tosses it aside, letting his hands find the mounds of your breasts and kneading them with steady motions. You moan into his mouth as he works you, your legs wrapping around his hips to press his clothed cock into your wetness and grind softly against you. Felix winces at the sensation, doing his best to stave off a premature orgasm while you rut your hips gently against him and let your head fall back in pleasure. And mirroring the pleasurable sensation of his thumbs rubbing circular motions over your nipples, he brings his mouth down to your chest, taking a breast in his mouth and sucking with little whimpers. Your head comes forward to meet his gaze again, his big, innocent eyes locked on yours as he takes the flesh between his lips and swirls his tongue around your nipple. His plump lips remain locked around your mound, alternating between gentle kisses and then back to sucking on your nipple, like he might coax fluids out of it if he tries enough. And he looks so guiltless, so incorrupt as he lets his eyelids flutter shut and your nipple graze his teeth. His actions almost don’t match this darkened, grunge appearance he now sports- and you swear you can still see the blonde locks that once framed his wide eyes and his bright appearance.

As Felix moves to your other nipple, you wrap your legs tighter around him, swaying your hips in gentle rocking motions to stimulate his clothed erection against your wetness and provide some relief to both of you. And he arches his eyebrows up in pleasure, stifled moans escaping his lips as he finally releases your breast from his mouth, a string of saliva connecting you still, as his gaze drops to his boxers.

Hard- he’s unbearably hard underneath his boxers, the tip of his cock kissing the constraining fabric of his boxers that ruts against your exposed clit and sends waves of pleasure through both your listless bodies. And Felix knows if he doesn’t fuck you now, he might finish at the sight of you alone, your cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink and your cunt arching desperately into him as you wait for him to undress. So he does- one hand finds the elastic waistband of his black boxers, pulling them over his cock and wincing as it grazes against the precum dribbling down his tip. You run your hands over his toned abs, letting your eyes meet his cock as it protrudes so eagerly for you, and it looks almost painful how hard he is for you, reddening at the tip and dripping with beads of his preemptive arousal.

Felix leans in to kiss you again, and as he does, the bare flesh of his cock finally grazes your clit, running smoothly over your arousal and making you clench around nothing. You gasp at the sensation, scooting closer to him as your clit finally gets some attention from him, and Felix smiles as he trails his kisses down to your neck. While he sucks little bruises along the flesh there, he brings a slender hand around the base of his cock, guiding his tip back to your clit and rubbing his length along your flesh with more pressure now, a fervent moan escaping your lips as he does. He glides so effortlessly along you, your arousal allowing him to move so freely against you, still eager for him to fill you up. And when his lips move back up to yours, his hand guides his tip back and forth again, now rubbing against your clit in steady motions. He mimics the way his fingers stimulate you, only it’s better like this, your cunt contracting as you prepare to take his length.

“Felix,” you whine, as his cock rubs back and forth over your wettened entrance.

“What is it?” He coos gently, smiling into you as saliva dribbles between your hungry mouths.

“Put it in,” you order plainly, parting your legs a little further to signify what it is you want so badly. And Felix already knows, pressing his tip into you just a mere centimeter to gauge your reaction, satisfied at the way you whimper and push yourself against him even further.

“Is this what you want?” Felix muses, holding his base to keep from sliding into you involuntarily.

“Yes,” you whine again, tangling your hands in his hair. “Just fuck me like you used to.”

And Felix feels his heartbeat quicken as the filthy memories grace his mind again, images of you exactly like this.

He says nothing, opting to end his teasing streak, as he finally steadies his hands on the sides of your waist and pushes into you, your sopping pussy taking him with complete ease. You let out a fervent moan at the feeling, your cunt clenching desperately around him as he works to bottom out inside of you and find his footing. His girth takes little to adjust to, but he’s long, taking a good minute or two until the base of his cock is disappearing inside of you and being coated in your arousal. Before even moving, his tip is grazing your cervix, the familiar feeling making your stomach turn with anticipation as you remember what it feels like.

Felix’s lips part in pleasure, his eyebrows arched up as he pulls out again and then thrusts just once, relishing in the way your pussy contracts around him again and takes him so perfectly. Your hands find purchase in his hair again, tangling in his ebony roots, as he pulls out a little, and then begins to move. His cock fills every inch of you so well, grazing every corner of your dripping cunt with such fullness, as his wet kisses work against your lips and coat your mouth in his needy saliva. Felix has always been a particularly vocal lover, you remember, as the room fills with his deep grunts and moans at every thrust. His fingers dig into your flesh, holding onto you with strength as your legs wrap around him to steady yourself and push him into you fully. Your bodies one again, your limbs tangled until it's discernible who is who atop the table like this. But when he slows his movements and kisses you tenderly, you don’t care about the implications, about the past or what this will mean for your future. All you care about is Felix inside of you like he used to be for most of your relationship, making up for all this wasted time as he fucks you and breathes heavy grunts into the shell of your ear.

“God, I missed this,” Felix breathes, his voice shaky as he continues to pump into you.

“Me too,” you moan back, lining his jaw with kisses as he moves a little faster.

“You used to let me take pictures of you,” Felix repeats for the second time this evening. “You remember? Used to touch yourself while I’d snap photos of you. God, the way your fingers would disappear into your tight little pussy. Had me begging to fuck you at the end of every session, baby.”

“I remember,” you voice back in labored breaths. “You’d fuck me so well. All you had to do was adjust that stupid lens and you had me dripping for you.”

“Fuck, baby,” Felix groans, shutting his eyes as he thrusts a little harder. “Gonna make me cum for you.”

“Yeah?” You echo, wrapping your legs a little tighter around him and crossing them at the ankles. “Will you fill me up like you used to?”

Felix nods as his eyes remain squeezed shut, the room teeming with the squelching sounds of his cock thrusting in and out of your cunt.

“Come on, baby,” you plead, one hand angling his face toward you to press repeated, chaste kisses to his lips. “Fill me up. I know you want to.”

“I do want to-”

“Cum for me,” you order, grazing your free hand over his abdomen and tracing little circles over his v-line.

And Felix’s cock twitches inside of you twice, signaling his nearing finish as he quickens his pace again, now fucking you with even more force and hitting your sensitive cervix with every thrust.

“I’ll let you take whatever pictures you want,” you say to him as you pull him close and nibble the lobe of his ear. “As long as you fuck me like this every time you’re finished.”

And the promise is all it takes for Felix to reach his orgasm, his cock twitching inside you once more before he spurts ropes of his warm cum inside of you, filling your cunt with copious amounts of his arousal for you and fucking every last drop back into you. Your pussy contracts at the sensation of his warm cum grazing your insides, reaching your finish, too, as he brings a hand to rub your clit through your release. The table below you is sticky with your juices as you steady your breathing, Felix bringing a hand around the base of his cock to pull out of you and rest limply against your pulsing, sore entrance.

The room around you is quiet again, the gentle buzz of the pendant lamp replacing your moans as you let your hands wrap around him and hold him in your embrace. Felix presses a series of tender kisses to your forehead as you remain, his slender hands moving strands of sweaty hair out of your forehead to replace them with his loving kisses.

And the record has run through all its seasons now, having ended several minutes ago, as the needle runs over the last groove in repetitive clicking sounds, an indication to flip it over.

*

A precious town once set ablaze. 4:00pm. Spring on the horizon.

“To have hysteria or mania. 7 letters.”

Felix thinks for a moment, his eyes darting up to the ceiling and then back to where Yena is sat across from him.

“Madness?”

She glances over the crossword puzzle once, counting empty little boxes, and then begins to pen in his answer.

“How are you so good at this?” Yena asks, shaking her head. “You could be on a crossword puzzle reality show. If that exists.”

He chuckles lightly, observing as Yena checks her watch, and then shuts the book in front of her.

“My break is almost done,” she says as you chew on a French fry. “I’m gonna catch the bathroom really quick. You guys need anything?”

“I’m good,” you chime in, and Felix shakes his head from across you.

“Thank you,” he says politely, shooting her a little smile as she slides out of the booth and back toward the kitchen.

Felix’s gaze turns back to you now, a smile on his face as you nibble the remainder of the french fry, cocking your head at his curious gaze. He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his sneaker glide gently up your ankle, grazing your bare skin with the sole of his shoe and shooting you a knowing smile.

“Felix, not here,” you say, pushing him away gently with your own shoe and letting your soles rest atop his laces.

“That’s not what you said this morning,” Felix says, swirling half-melted cubes of ice around in his glass of water.

“Harder Felix, harder!” He mimics quietly in a high-pitched voice, as he brings his glass up to his lips and takes a generous sip.

You stomp on his laces as he chuckles between sips of water, dribbling a stream from his lips when you kick him lightly in his ankles.

Don’t fuck your exes.

Advice that anyone with half a brain would give you- and advice you really should’ve taken to heart. But you can’t help it, finding yourself between the sheets with Felix nearly every night for the past two weeks, his lips all over yours and pleasuring you better than you’d ever remembered it. You tell yourself you’re just making up for lost time, both of you still young and naive, all of this over once he actually leaves for college again. He stayed for Christmas, gifting you a new pair of canvas sneakers and fucking you while reruns of Christmas rom-coms played in the background of your apartment. He was your New Year’s kiss at Seungmin’s party, where you swore again that the two of you weren’t dating, forcing you to press your lips to his only when you were sure the others weren’t paying attention at the drop of the ball. And when you’re not picking up shifts at the record shop, you’re with him every waking second of the day, keeping Yena company during her shifts as you feign your giddy attraction to him while she’s not looking.

We’re not dating, you’ve emphasized to Felix several times, and he doesn’t fight it, giving you a knowing nod as he utters a repetitive yeah, yeah. But it’s mostly because he knows you can’t say no to him, not when he’s bringing you slices of pie at work and burning CDs with all his favorite songs for you, slipping them into your bag without you even noticing until you’re home again. Of course there’s the physical factor, too- Felix is undoubtedly your best sexual partner, and he always has been. He’s quick to recognize when you’re aroused, slipping away with you in the backseat of his car to pleasure you, without any protest from you. He’s also understanding of all your intimate moments together, not fighting it when you remind him this is just temporary, all while he’s thrusting into you on the back room table of the record shop at late hours of the night. He just smiles against your bruised skin, reminding you that you have yet to push him away yet. And when he’s holding you in the gentle embrace of your afterglow, pressing kisses to your skin and reminding you how beautiful he’s always thought you are, he’s right- you don’t push him away from any of it. Maybe it’s the physical factor, maybe it’s little acts of service he performs to win you over. And perhaps it’s also because you don’t feel so lonely for once- the last time he was beside you like this, you still had a family, one that loved Felix like their own and encouraged this shared life with him. You still had dreams of being something bigger, aspirations while you were in school and visions of a life with Felix, because back then, he was always a part of your plan. And though things are different now, his beaming smile and lighthearted jokes serve as a reminder of a simpler time, and it feels right. So you don’t push him away- it’s a secret kept between the two of you, but he’s here with you, regardless.

“Will you let me take some photos of you today? ” Felix inquires, flipping through the book of crossword puzzles left on the table by Yena. You watch as he adjusts the familiar fleur de lis ring on his finger before uncapping a pen and filling in one of the words.

“I have an early shift tomorrow,” you reply, toying with the crumpled straw wrapper in front of you.

“I won’t be long,” Felix retorts.

“I know, Felix, but I have to get up really early tomorrow and I-”

“Let me take you out,” Felix says, not looking up from the crossword puzzle in front of him. “Just tell me where.”

You sigh, scanning the empty tables around the diner. There are only a handful of guests at this hour, most of them elderly folk chatting quietly amongst themselves. A slow jazz tune plays overhead, and sunlight beams through the large window beside you as Felix finishes penning in an answer, shutting the book again and folding his hands in front of him to meet your gaze.

“I have something for you,” Felix adds.

“You don’t have to buy me gifts, Felix.”

“I’m aware. But this one’s special for me, too.”

“What is it?”’you ask, a growing curiosity at his words.

“I don’t have it with me. You’ll have to let me give it to you later today.”

You sigh, crossing your arms in front of you and rolling your eyes sarcastically. He’s always known how to get exactly what he wants.

“Just this one time,” you reply, knowing you sound like a broken record at how many times you’ve sworn it to be just one more time.

“Just this one time,” Felix echoes, toying again with the ring on his finger.

And you nod reluctantly, agreeing to whatever he’s planned, for the purpose of pleasing him and because you’re unable to decline.

As he flips open the book again, he uncaps the pen once more, picking up where he left off and reading the question aloud to you.

“A discussion aimed at reaching an agreement,” he voices, nibbling the cap of his pen again.

“Negotiation,” you say, observing the way a smile grows on his face as he pens in your answer.

“That’s it,” he says, gripping the pen enthusiastically as he crosses out the question.

And the sole of his shoe grazes your ankle again, trailing up your flesh teasingly as he moves onto the next.

*

“Where’s she going?” Felix queries, reaching into the bowl of popcorn in his lap to grab another mouthful.

“I don’t know,” you respond, chuckling at the way he shoves a generous portion into his mouth and chews loudly.

“Is she leaving him?” He says, pausing his chewing as the main lead in the movie makes a dramatic exit on screen.

“Felix, I’ve never seen this movie either,” you state, chuckling as he finally resumes his chewing and brushes stray kernels off his shirt.

He reaches into the bucket again, gathering a generous handful of popcorn, and then he sprawls his hand over your mouth, pushing the popcorn into your still-laughing mouth as he moves a little closer to you.

“You argue too much!” He says between giggles, throwing his head back as he watches you try to down the handful, failing as loose kernels find purchase on your shirt, too.

You reach out to shove him playfully, and Felix intertwines his hands with yours, pulling you onto his lap as the bucket of popcorn is promptly set aside and neglected.

He doesn’t even give you time to finish chewing before his lips are on yours, kissing you with such tenderness and warmth. It’s moments like these you find yourself glad he’s here with you, grateful for his unwavering persistence to account for lost time and make amends. Of course you also know he’ll be gone soon, back to university to proceed with his education while you tend to the record shop. And you’re undoubtedly a little sad about it- but you also know it’s the way things have panned out to be. Felix has blossomed into the bright young soul you always knew he was, filling the shoes of a generation of good-natured people that came before him. He’s generous, and unselfish in his ways, and a part of you knows that leaving him was the best thing that could’ve happened to both of you.

Was sleeping with him a mistake after all this time? You would’ve answered yes in a heartbeat, at the first instance it happened, feeling you might accidentally led Felix on and ruined things between the two of you. But the more it happened, the more it affirmed the beautiful notion that he’s just a fleeting part in this process of mending- your souls intertwining to relive memories of simpler times, connecting like they had when you once belonged together. He gives himself to you as a way of saying I’m still here, if you need me. And you give yourself to him to respond I know, and I’m still healing.

“You want your gift?” Felix asks as he pulls away, his hands grazing the small of your back.

“Depends,” you say with a small smile. “If it’s anything like your gift this morning, then yes.”

He chuckles softly, caressing the dimples in your lower back as he sits up and nods in the direction of the kitchen counter.

“I’ll go get it. Be right back.”

And you slide off of him, crossing your hands between your thighs as he exits the room, the soft-spoken dialogue of the movie still playing as he shuffles about in your apartment kitchen. When he returns, his hands are behind his back, a smile plastered on his face and his eyes forming little crescents as he approaches you.

“You have to close your eyes,” he says, kneeling down and sitting cross-legged in front of you. “And put out your hands.”

You oblige with an equally endeared smile, closing your eyes and cupping your hands in front of you. Felix seems to get something situated in front of you, and then you feel him place something small in the palm of your hand. It’s cold to the touch, no bigger than an inch, and he positions it so that it’s centered perfectly in your hand.

“Now open,” Felix finally says, pulling his hands back and folding them in his lap.

You do as you’re told, your eyes fluttering open again and your gaze falling into the palm of your hand. And your heart melts instantly at the sight-

It’s a ring- his ring, the silver fleur de lis one he always catches you staring at.

“I can’t take your ring,” you say, your wide eyes meeting the crescents of his eyes that remain as he grins.

He holds his hand up, flashing you his own fleur de lis, and wiggles his fingers to show it off.

“It’s not mine,” Felix says. “I got you your own.”

And you feel tears prick the corners of your eyes, doing your very best to pull back and avoid crying in front of him. But Felix takes notice at the way your face contorts sadly, scooting closer to you and taking your hands in his.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, his face full of concern as you examine the ring.

“Nothing,” you’re quick to respond, sniffling and rotating it between the pads of your fingers. “I just…”

Felix waits for you to answer, giving your hand a little squeeze as you struggle to find your words. He knows that verbalizing your feelings isn’t exactly your forte, giving you time to think over the action and speak when it feels right to you.

“Your ring,” you say with a soft chuckle. “It was a gift from my dad.”

His expression turns serious, holding up his index finger to rotate it around in front of you. “This one?” He inquires.

“Yeah,” you respond with a smile. “The one I gave you before we broke up. I know I’m not the best with my words, but I never got to say thank you. You stayed up with me the night they told us he was nearing the end. And again when my mom left. And somehow you found me in this shitty little town, and I like to think it’s so that I can properly thank you for everything. That’s why I wanted you to have the ring.”

Felix can’t properly reciprocate with a kiss while he’s sat below you like this, but he brings his lips forward to kiss your knee tenderly, staring up at you through innocent eyes and humming against your flesh.

“You were not alone,” he says, pressing another kiss. “You’re never alone. I would do it all over again.”

And you smile down at him, as he takes the ring from the palm of your hand and slides it onto your ring finger, an unspoken promise that he’s always going to be here to help build you up again, regardless of your reservations or your conditions. That just like this town lost itself so many years ago, there’s always a way to build things back up again, you just have to hold onto the hope that it’s possible.

“I love it,” you say, examining the way it sits around your fingers just like his does. And Felix doesn’t answer, pressing more kisses on the pads of your knees and using a hand to part your knees slightly. You take note of the way he keeps his eyes shut as he trails kisses, relishing in the way you give into his actions, laying back to part your knees and observing his eager state.

“Can I take a picture of you?” Felix asks shyly, his eyes darting over your visible crotch as your skirt rides up. You shoot him a little nod in response, gesturing for him to go get his camera, which he wastes no time doing, pulling it out of his black carrier bag and slinging it over his neck. Felix sits cross-legged in front of you again, watching intently as you flip your skirt up and let your fingers graze over your soaking panties. Your new ring glints in the dim glow of the overhead lamp, glistening as you rub your clit over the thin fabric of your underwear and stare into the lens of his camera.

Felix clicks a set of photos, his breath hitching in the back of his throat at the sight of you tugging on your panties and spreading even further for him. You make a big show of staring innocently into his lens, your eyebrows arched in curiosity as you toy with your waistband and tug it down a little further, your hips swaying a little as you struggle to pull it off entirely. And Felix takes note of your struggle, snapping one more photo of your desperate state and slinging the camera back off.

“Let me help you,” he says with an amused smile, placing the camera on the bag beside him and scooting closer to you. His hands loop themselves in the hem of your panties, keeping his gaze locked on your core as he pulls them down, being met instantly with the sweet aroma of your arousal and your glistening folds.

“Fuck,” Felix breathes, swallowing in anticipation at you spread for him.

You let yourself slouch back into the dip of the couch cushion, propping a leg up to give him a better view, and your hands graze over your breasts as you watch him struggle to comprehend the sight.

“Go on,” you order simply, biting your lip as his eyes widen when you knead your breast gently.

And Felix doesn’t spare another second, his hands finding purchase on your inner thighs, as he brings his face forward and licks a long stripe up your folds. His tongue is instantly coated in your arousal when he does, moaning at the taste of you as you writhe in pleasure below him and clamp your knees around his pretty face. He holds them open again, letting his tongue graze over your pulsing clit, before licking another stripe and then latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, pressing a chaste kiss before sucking harshly.

The room fills with your high-pitched moans, gasping for air and clutching desperately onto the fabric of the couch as he works you, alternating between sucking your clit between his teeth and grazing his tongue over your entrance. He darts his tongue into your sopping entrance to gather more of your arousal, spitting harshly onto your cunt and grazing it around your folds using his tongue. And the more you writhe desperately below him, the more his movements become ravenous, working you like a starved animal as he eats you out and pries your legs open.

“Felix,” you groan, reaching a hand out to push his face further into you. “Feels so fucking good.”

He smiles against you, responding with little kisses peppered on your inner thighs, before moving back to your clit and licking in harsh back and forth motions. Your cunt clenches around nothing, desperate for him to fill you, but not wanting him to halt the motion of pleasuring you with his tongue. And as his fingers graze along your thigh to pry you open again, you gasp when he brings the same hand to your clit and rubs vigorously.

Your body is shaking now, trembling with anticipation as you approach your orgasm. But Felix doesn’t stop to gauge your reactions at all- in fact, if you were to cum right now, he’d keep going at this pace regardless. He’s too fixated on the taste of your arousal in his mouth, the melodious moans you let out for him and the way you reach for nothing tangible as he works you.

As your head throws back in pure ecstasy, you feel his fingers move lower, and lower, until he’s grazing your entrance with his knuckles in a teasing motion. And before you can ask him to fuck you with them, he’s already inserting two fingers, increasing the pace of his tongue as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your cunt contracts eagerly around his fingers, desperate for release now as he matches the rhythm of his tongue with his fingers, the room teeming with the sounds of your squelching pussy. As he pushes deeper into you, you feel his ring- the cold, stiff metal of your now matching rings, graze your entrance, sending a wave of pleasure over your trembling body. His fingers work in and out of you, the cold metal pressing itself on your clit as he bottoms out inside of you and moves his fingertips in quick come hither motions to stimulate you. Your abdomen contracts harshly with every thrust now, your clit throbbing as he traces it with his tongue and peppers it in hot, wet kisses.

“Felix, fuck, I’m- gonna cum for you,” you warn, your voice shaky as he moves even faster, showing no mercy with his movements as he groans against your exposed flush.

“Let go for me,” he commands plainly, his deep voice vibrating against your clit as he holds his tongue there. “Always give me such a fucking show, baby. Make a mess for me.” He speaks between kisses on your glistening folds, alternating between pouting his lips to make out with your cunt and let his tongue wag over your sensitive core.

As you feel his fingers thrust into you one last time, the cold metal of his ring gliding over your folds in its coat of arousal, your abdomen contracts over him, your cunt clenching in syncopation with your fervent moans as you finally let go and dribble your juices all over his freckled face. He wastes no time cleaning you up, lapping at your core to swallow your release and pepper your dampened flesh with tender kisses.

“Stay there,” Felix orders, reaching beside him as your eyes flutter shut in overstimulation. You lie completely listless, your limbs languid and heartbeat pulsing at a now slowing rate throughout your body.

Felix brings his camera up to you again, sitting up on his knees and snapping a photo of your wearied state, his eyes wide with lust as he admires the way your legs hang loosely at your sides. His lens adjusts to capture your parted lips and flushed cheeks, your hands tugging your skirt down again and the smile on your breathless lips when you open your eyes again.

Felix stands up now, approaching you with the camera and letting his slender fingers graze your lips.

“Suck,” he orders, inserting the same two fingers down your throat as his other hand positions the lens in front of you. And you oblige eagerly, your lips wrapping around his digits to suck your own arousal off of him, your tongue swirling around the salty metal of his ring to rid him of your juices.

His photos capture exactly that- your lips wrapped around his knuckles, the kisses you trail down his fingers and the way your tongue licks the perimeter of your matching jewelry clean.

When you’re finished, you release him with a gentle pop, Felix letting his camera hang loosely at his waist again and using his now free hand to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“So beautiful,” he says resolutely, bringing you up for a gentle kiss. “You were always such a good model for me.”

*

When you work an early shift, you make it a point to kick Felix out of your apartment no later than 9, or sometimes 10. You’re not staying the night, you’d explained as a non-negotiable condition, wanting to avoid the awkward antics that come with sleeping alongside each other and waking up in his arms. But tonight, you can’t seem to let go of him, letting his arms wrap you in their warm embrace as he presses kisses to your forehead and tells you stories of college that you weren’t around for.

“It was the worst group I ever had for a project,” Felix says in a chuckle. “I don’t know how I passed that course.”

“You should’ve requested a different group,” you say in a sleepy voice, smiling as you play the humorous tale in your head.

“I did!” He exclaims. “I don’t think the professor liked me enough to let me switch so late in the semester.”

“Well, you got through it,” you reply, letting your hand intertwine with his as your rings rub tenderly against each other. “I can’t say the same.”

Felix chuckles lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand and letting your hands rest against each other. He thinks for a moment, and then rubs his thumb along your hand lovingly as he begins to speak again.

“I want to take so many photos of you in the spring. There’s this new lens I want to try.”

You pause briefly, opening your eyes to look at him, and then you cock your head slightly before responding.

“You won’t be here for the spring, Felix. You’ll be back at school.”

He swallows nervously, pondering your words, and then he exhales deeply before continuing.

“I don’t think college is for me, either.”

The words hit you like a truck the second they escape his lips- you sit up in bed to look at him, releasing his hand from yours and furrowing your brows together.

“What?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you, I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. I want to stay here, with you.”

“No, you don’t,” you’re quick to say, shaking your head.

“I do,” Felix admits sheepishly. “Everything makes sense here. Being with you, the town, the people- I think I’m meant to be here, too.”

“No, you’re not,” you say, pulling away from him even further as he sits up now, too. “Felix- this isn’t your life. You need to go back to school, and pick a major and live your life.”

“I don’t want those things,” Felix responds frustratedly. “I want you. I want this town. I don’t care if you don’t want to date, I’ll stay by your side regardless. I can’t just leave you.”

“You can, and you will.”

Felix narrows his eyes, anger quickly overtaking him as his face flushes a dark shade of red.

“So you’re allowed to and I’m just not? Who are you to dictate what I do with my life?”

“This is the life I made for myself,” you reply, exasperated. “It’s not some soul-searching pit stop like it is for you.”

“Maybe it’s not for me, either.”

You’re entirely off the bed now, your hands making angry gestures as you try to verbalize your feelings toward him, Felix’s voice growing increasingly irate as you attempt to.

“You know why I left you in the first place?” You question. “Because I was dragging you down. You had everything- a family, a future and a girlfriend who didn’t quite have things made the way you do. No one even understood why we were together, Felix. I’m not gonna drag you down a second time just because we had sex a couple times.”

“Is that all this is to you?” Felix inquires angrily. “Just sex? It doesn’t seem that way when you’re all over me at Seungmin’s parties calling me your ‘best friend’. That doesn’t sound like just sex to me-”

“You are my best friend,” you interrupt frustratedly, tears falling from your eyes now as you try to make him listen.

“You are my best friend, and I don’t want this life for you. The night I left you, my dad was moved to hospice, and my mom decided she wanted nothing to do with it. I knew you’d be wasting the best years of your life taking care of me, staying by my side like the good person you are, but that it would get in the way of college and your life. It wasn’t easy for me to do, Felix, breaking up with you and getting as far away from you as possible before I could change my mind. But you have a life outside of me, and I need you to go be that person still.”

Felix says nothing in response for several minutes, his eyes welling with tears, too, as you wipe your eyes with your inner wrists and avert his gaze. You hate when Felix sees you cry- it’s embarrassing, and it feels shameful. It feels the way it did when Felix skipped classes to be with you, neglected studying for his exams to hold you as you cried, rain checked his own family to be with yours and dragged you to every house party, so that he could fuck your sadness away in an environment that wasn’t a hospital bathroom or your childhood room.

“How dare you imply the time I spent with you was wasted,” he scoffs, his lip quivering as he wipes his own eyes. “You were my life, outside of all of this. And you still are, and you’re so stubborn in doing that thing where you don’t let yourself feel.”

You watch as Felix gathers his camera, stuffing it back into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You said you’re somewhere between the fire and the mending. But you don’t talk about the fire. You just shut it out like you do with everything else.”

He pivots on his heel, making his way toward the door and walking with loud, purposeful strides. You begin to say something, quickly swallowing your words again as he reaches for the doorknob and turns it slowly. Felix pauses momentarily, hoping you’ll ask him to stay, apologize, forgive- anything, any sort of indication that this is what you want, too. But as the door opens, your silence is answer enough for him.

“No one could have prevented the fire,” Felix says before leaving, echoing the words you told him so long ago. “You can pick up, and move on, but it still happened. And just because things burned, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to thrive again.”

Without another word from you, he’s disappearing out your front door, his camera bag swaying on his side as he marches out the building and back to his car.

And you feel yourself begin to cry, your heart contracting painfully in your chest, a pit forming in your stomach as you witness him walk out of your life again. The flames burn inside of you all over again, turning organ to ash as you wipe your never-ending tears and slam the door behind him. It’s akin to when your mother left, when your dad passed and when you left Felix the first time. It’s overwhelming, it consumes you whole, your entire figure trembling as you fail to extinguish the flames. The phenomenon begs the question- had the fire ever really stopped? Were you ever in the process of mending if not wailing like this, your vulnerability on display for the world to see as your walls are finally let down? Is this what it means to feel?

*

There are few people in this world who have seen you cry. Your mom, one of them, when you begged her to stay. Your dad, another, when you held his hand through his last breath. Felix, the third, several times throughout your relationship with him.

And the folks in this town- never. Not once have they witnessed you wail the way Felix has, tears brimming your eyes as you fail to keep your emotions at bay, mucus trickling down to your lips in an inelegant manner as you cry, and cry and cry.

“You want some coffee?” Chris asks awkwardly, scratching the back of his head as he watches you bury your face in the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

“No.”

“Yena should be here any minute,” he adds, his voice softening as he watches you lift your head to give him a nod.

“Hang in there, kiddo,” Chris finishes, rubbing your back in small circles and giving you a gentle pat.

As you rest your chin in your hands, a pounding headache overtaking your whole being, a knock at the front door catches your attention. It’s Yena, a hood thrown over her head as she balances a tupperware container in her hands and peers through the window. Chris gives her a knowing look, making his way to the door and unlocking it for her.

“Hey,” Yena says softly as she enters, setting down a slice of pie in front of you and taking a seat on the stool beside you. “You okay?”

You sniffle once, shaking your head sorrowfully as she awaits your explanation. But nothing is verbalized yet, and for a good few minutes, all you can do is cry.

Yena wraps you in her loving embrace, letting your tears stain the shoulder of her hoodie, as Chris shrugs from behind you and delivers reassuring pats to your back. They’re just as confused as each other, awaiting a reason or some story, but you can’t bring yourself to vocalize your thoughts, especially when you’re a crying mess like this. Chris finally ushers Yena to say something, and she does, albeit reluctantly.

“You know, just between us, I think he’s a little dorky, anyway. It’s his loss if he can’t see what he’s missing.”

And to their surprise, you chuckle lightly, still wiping tears with the corners of your sweatshirt.

“What?” You question, a soft hiccup escaping your lips as you speak. Yena furrows her brows, together shooting a questioning look to Chris, who shrugs in response.

“Is this… not about Felix?” She queries hesitantly.

“It is,” you emphasize, another giggle escaping your lips. “But it’s not that he’s not interested. We used to date, Yena.”

At this, Yena reaches around to swat Chris’ shoulder, pursing her lips together as she speaks again. “I knew something was up,” she voices, swatting Chris again. “Christopher over here was convinced he was too into you.”

“You guys talked about it?” You add, giggling softly into the sleeve of your sweater.

“It was hard not to,” Yena responded, giving you an empathetic look. “The way you guys light up a room when you’re together, it’s like winter turns to spring or something. I was so certain he was the one.”

At this, more tears escape the corners of your eyes, falling onto the counter below you as you nod slowly in regards to her words.

“I love him,” you finally say, and the room goes silent when you do.

“I love him, and he deserves better than me. Than this,” you finish, gesturing around you to the town. “He wants to drop out of college and stay here. Like that’s a good idea for anyone except me.”

Yena and Chris give each other staggered looks, unsure of what to reply to first. They’ve never heard you speak of your emotions like this, never seen you cry and never would’ve guessed that you would let down your guard to this degree around them. It’s a little frightening, at first, to watch you tear down your own walls so much, like watching a different person than the one they’ve known for all these years. But it’s also reassuring to see that you are capable of letting yourself open up for the right people. It takes a weight off their shoulders to bear witness to the confirmation that they’re the people you can go to when you need help, the same way they don’t hesitate to lean on you. And it especially gives solace to know that you feel so deeply at all, a trait Yena and Chris have always pushed you to familiarize yourself with.

“Well what’s stopping you?” Yena asks, threading her fingers in your hair and combing it back like your mother used to.

“Exactly that,” you respond. “I don’t want to confine him to this life of mine.”

“Let me ask you something,” Yena states, taking your hands in hers and bringing your gaze up to meet hers. “Are you happy?”

And the question throws you off guard, requiring a moment to think before you can say anything in response. It’s a fair question, too- one you should’ve asked yourself when you agreed to move here years ago. But it’s not a difficult one to crack, either, when you take in your surroundings. The diner across the street is packed with patrons, happily sipping away at milkshakes and glass bottles of soda. This old record shop, with its dingy back room and rows of genres you make an effort to learn about whenever you get a chance. The starlings that flock when the train travels through, the holiday parties you find a home in and your favorite spot on the hill, overlooking all of Ember. They’re all working parts of one larger phenomenon- that of happiness.

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding to affirm your answer. “I love it here. And I love you guys, and I’m still healing most days, but I wouldn’t want to be doing it anywhere else.”

A smile grows on Yena’s face as she glances back between you and Chris, and he shoots her a little nod.

“Then do something about it,” she finally says, giving your hands a little squeeze. “The first step is letting yourself feel. The rest is up to you to run with.”

And when you meet her gaze, and Chris’ gaze, their loving expressions looking down at you like you’re one of their own, you can’t help but pull them into a hug, letting yourself cry a little harder at the prospect of your found family, these tears ones of happiness.

“I love you guys,” you voice confidently. “And I’m sorry if I’ve never said it out loud.”

Chris’ hand pats your back, Yena’s combing through your hair tenderly, as they hug you with equal enthusiasm and allow you to cry as long as you need.

“We love you, kid,” Chris answers.

And when you pull away again, the three of you laugh, your tears staining your reddened faces as you bask in this unconditional appreciation for one another.

“Eat your pie,” Yena says, shoving a fork toward you. “And Chris, play some music, will you?”

Chris salutes her, pulling a random record off the shelf and scanning its contents.

“Polish folk?” He questions, and you glance at the familiar cover of the record, the same couple dipping into a bow as they dance in their colorful fabrics.

“This one’s really good,” you chime in, taking a bite of cherry pie as you nod toward the record player. “We should dance to this one.”

And as Chris starts the upbeat music, pulling Yena in for a comedic waltz, you can’t help but laugh through your tears, at the home this town’s given you in all your mending.

*

Felix hasn’t been at the record shop since your fight. He hasn’t been at your apartment, nor the diner, or even Seungmin’s place (and yes, you did ask). There’s only one place you know Felix would flock to after a night like the one you shared, and if you’re lucky, you should still be able to catch him on his supposed last night here.

The grassy hill is a little slippery at this hour, caked mud enwreathing your sneakers as you trudge your way up the hill and into the familiar dip of the land. And as the horizon becomes visible to you, spanning the length of the town and showcasing all the bright lights the nighttime flaunts, so does Felix, sitting with his back to you in a plain white t-shirt and jeans. He looks more casual tonight, less dressed with the intention to look a specific way, and you can’t help but smile at the sight of his slim frame taking in the view you led him to. He leans back on his hands, eyes scanning the sight of the town, before picking up his camera and snapping a series of photos.

When you occupy the spot next to him, he glances over at you briefly, before turning his attention back to the camera and waiting for you to speak.

“It’s prettier at night, isn’t it?,” you finally say, breaking the silence, and Felix fixes his gaze on the blurry lights of the record shop.

“Yeah,” he responds curtly, swallowing nervously as he ponders what to say.

And you know if you let him facilitate this conversation, it’d be over much sooner rather than later, but you also know that it’s up to you to make amends now.

“Your photography is still so beautiful,” you state, gesturing to the camera in his hands. “It’s always been so artistic.”

Felix remains quiet, toying with the strap on his camera as you speak.

“You’re artistic,” you continue. “And that’s why I want you to finish college. Don’t throw all this away for me.”

He turns his face to meet your gaze, his eyes trembling a little as you give him an empathetic look and shrug.

“I don’t want to go where you won’t follow,” Felix says, his voice coming out a little shaky.

“But I’ll always be here,” you retort, tears beginning to prick the corners of your eyes again. “Don’t put your life on hold for something that already lives in your past. You are an incredible person, Felix, and I’m not gonna drag you down a second time.”

Felix thinks for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat as he thinks over your words. And he knows that there’s a possibility this isn’t what he wants, either- to stay in this little town with your friends he’s not even sure like him very much. But he does know he wants you, and that staying here would mean sacrificing his old life.

“I want you to know it wasn’t your fault,” Felix says after a brief pause of silence. “Nobody who walked out deserved you. And your dad loved you- a lot. I think about that moment watching the sunrise with you every day. He’s there too, part of that memory tucked away in my mind. I’m sorry it happened so suddenly and disrupted things. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy, Felix,” you tell him, chuckling lightly as you respond. “I have a whole family here. I don’t spend my holidays alone, I meet new people working at the shop everyday. There’s so many people I haven’t introduced you to. There are coffee shops, and parades on weekends, and I’m happy. I’m still healing, but I’ve also realized that being healed doesn’t equate my happiness. I can be one without the other, and still get by just fine.”

Felix’s gaze is fixed on yours for a moment, not saying anything as he lets your words circle his mind. And there’s so much he wants to say in response, so many questions about what the future means for you both, but he also knows very well that the rest is up to him to figure out, just the way you did when you moved out here. Maybe you’re still healing- and maybe Felix is still figuring out the rest for himself, too. And though the past may be clouded by a story much more complex than either of you can even begin to comprehend, the happiness you seek is attainable, whether or not you’re together to see it through to the end. That although sometimes things may burn and decay like this town once did, there are people who will make the journey to help in the process of rebuilding, and you can thrive again. You can always thrive again.

“You’re right,” Felix says, as he looks over the horizon again. “It is prettier at night.”

The dim glow of the streetlights contrasts the flashy signs of the diner and the record shop, painting the blackened town with vivid color and bringing life to the small town of Ember.

And with a half smile, Felix pulls you in for a tender kiss, the two of you letting your apologies flow through each other in the gentle embrace of your lips and your hands intertwining atop the grassy hill.

Felix pulls you close, letting your head rest comfortably against his chest, as he caresses your hand softly in the grasp of his. And his index finger rubs lovingly against your ring finger, your matching rings grazing against each other as if to say I’ve always loved you.

*

Small town at the edge of the world. No particular time of day. A blossoming summer.

If you told the average person to shut their eyes and think of their favorite city, they’d probably conjure up a lengthy description about the booming skyscrapers, the bumper-to-bumper traffic, the fancy restaurants and the well-kept people. Point it out on a map, you’d tell them, and their finger would land in the heart of the amorphous blob of whatever state they’ve chosen.

Now move your finger to the right- keep going, and going, and don’t stop until you’re almost off the map entirely. There will be no major indicators, no colorful dots on this area of the map. You might miss it, in fact, if you shoot too far.

That’s the small town of Ember. A town Felix holds very close to his heart. And one you call home.

The cicadas buzz with high-pitched melodies of summer as you slip your sneakers on, the piercing blue sky around you almost too bright to look directly in its face. The clouds seem to shift with the summer breeze, drifting along the canvas sky like a painting in motion as you take in the sight around you

“Let’s go!” Yena calls, honking her horn twice to signify her arrival.

“I’m coming!” You call back, making your way down the stairs of her porch, balancing trays of food in hand as you account for everything you’ve agreed to bring. Drinks, plates, pie, napkins- your signature arrangement for the town’s summer festival you attend alongside Chris and Yena every year.

“Slow down, kiddo,” Chris says with a chuckle, as you rush to place everything in the backseat. “Oh, and there’s a letter for you on the porch table,” he adds, shooting you a small wink.

“I’ll be right back!” you call to Yena, jogging back up the stairs to collect the little beige envelope that rests atop the wooden surface.

It’s addressed to you, the handwriting in neat swirly black cursive letters, the envelope feeling sturdy between your fingers. You tear it open with no real aim, a giant gash working down the envelope as you rush you pull out the contents and examine them.

It’s a stack of photos, you quickly realize, sorting through them to make out the glossy digital prints.

There’s a photo of you in the back of the record shop, your hands brought up to your face and your legs hanging lazily off the table. Another showcases you in the familiar beige interior of the passenger’s seat, laughing cheerfully and staring out the window. There are photos of the town’s horizon, photos of the record player at your work, Yena’s famous pie, Seungmin’s holiday party and even the matching rings, intertwined hands that rest on the car console. As you shuffle to the last photo, you recognize it to be much more recent than the others, even the quality looking clearer, perhaps a new camera or a different roll of film.

It’s a still photo of Felix, from the waist up, holding a peace sign up to the lens with a small smile. He’s dressed brightly in a white vest and layered jewelry, the background showcasing a blue harbor with rows of boats, the location indistinguishable to you. He’s blonde again, his now shorter golden tresses framing the myriad of freckles that scatter his face once more. And he looks happy, much like himself again.

You wonder briefly who took the photo of him, the angle being of very close proximity. And you can’t make out which hand usually houses the ring you both wear, the only hand visible to you covering his ring finger, regardless. You scan the photo for a moment, running your fingertips over his figure, before turning it over and reading the neatly scribbled text on the back:

Sydney, last fall. I think I’m the only photography major who doesn’t drink my coffee without sugar. And you were right, the freckles do suit me better.

All my love,

Felix.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・572 / 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・felix x gn!reader / 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲(𝘀)・fluff, established relationship, lots of kisses hehe, slightly suggestive

“See you tonight, angel,” Felix says, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. It’s chaste, short, familiar; your favorite form of farewell, exchanged inevitably before you part ways, even for only a few hours.

But this time, Felix doesn’t pull away afterwards, instead remaining so close to you that the tip of his nose is almost brushing yours, and there’s an ineffable glint in his eyes when he speaks again. (You should’ve known you were in danger.)

“Hang on,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet, and then he leans in again.

When he presses his lips to yours the second time, he moves with an intensity that you aren’t prepared for. You feel his fingers slide over the nape of your neck and tangle gently in your hair; your head tilts backwards from the weight of his kiss, his tongue feather-light against the seam of your lips, his mouth laving over yours as tenderly as if he’s trying to drink you, savor you. Dimly, you feel your waist bump against the kitchen counter, and Felix doesn’t even think when he moves a hand protectively to the small of your back, returning you to your rightful place against his chest.

You are breathless and lightheaded when your boyfriend breaks the kiss, his lips flushed and hair messy, looking like a walking dream.

“S'that a new lip balm flavor?” He asks.

Bastard.

You collect yourself just enough to give him an answer, but it sounds more like a blissful sigh than a spoken response: “Strawberry.”

The smile that crosses Felix’s face is mostly bashful, but you don’t miss the self-satisfied huff of laughter that comes with it.

“I like it,” he hums. “A lot.”

And he kisses you one more time, and then another.

He ends up being late to practice that day, his rushed apologies to Minho falling out of strawberry-tinted lips.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡

© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.

🖤 Snap Out of It (Felix x Reader) 🖤

Crossposted under 2Babbies on Ao3 <3

Words: 6500

Summary: You are trying to give your ex-boyfriend a second chance after breaking up with him, but you find yourself questioning the decision when he continuously texts you during your night out with Seungmin. Luckily, Felix appears and helps you work through your emotions. He even gives you the perfect ultimatum: go home with your ex, or go home with him (inspired by the Arctic Monkeys song).

Humour + Smut + Fluff

afab + fem!reader

CWs: shitty boyfriend that is implied to be emotionally manipulative, breaking up with said boyfriend, judgemental bff seungmin (but he cares you I promise), drinking/alcohol consumption (reader barely drinks, felix is sober)

Smut Tags: safe sex/use of condom, teasing, playful sex, love confessions before/during sex, praise kink, vaginal fingering, doggystyle

!!ATTENTION!!

Reposting this fic to other platforms, including as a translation, is expressly prohibited. Do not copy, alter, or claim this fic as your own. Absolutely no permission is given to anyone to post my works, even with credit, and this fic should only appear on Ao3 or Tumblr under my accounts. Reposting is not only plagiarism, but a direct violation of my wishes as the original writer and owner. Please respect writers and don’t steal!

Likes, reblogs, asks and comments are very welcome and appreciated <3

~~~

Seungmin’s eyes flick judgmentally between you and your phone as another text lights up the screen. You avert your gaze and pretend not to notice as you sip your water.

“Didn’t you answer him?”

“Hm?”

Seungmin clears his throat.

“Your boyfriend? You answered him already, right?”

You slide your phone away as your friend attempts to decipher the messages from across the table.

“Yeah, he’s just worried.”

“Possessive is more like it.”

“He’s working on it.”

“Is he?”

You glare softly and open the texts. Multiple variations of ‘where are you’ and ‘I miss you’ grace your vision. You send a quick reply about how you are safe and having fun with your friend then place your phone, face-down, on the table. Seungmin stares at it and peers suspiciously as it buzzes on.

“He just worries about me. He’s anxious and wants me to get home safe.”

“He’s jealous. He can’t handle that you’re out with me.”

“That has nothing to do with it.”

He cocks his head.

“Really? Are you sure about that? Is this how he is everytime you leave the house?”

“No, it’s just late and we’re at a bar so there could be drunk drivers or something when we leave.”

“But you’re sober, and I’ve had one drink, so that should ease his mind a little bit. His problem is me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Why are you being so stubborn?”

“He doesn’t even know I’m with you so it’s definitely not that.”

“What?”

You stare at each other in silence before you take a long sip of your drink.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t tell him you’re with me? Why?”

You shrug.

“No reason.”

“You can’t tell him you’re alone with a guy, right?”

“No-”

“y/n, that is a huge red flag! Why are you back with this guy?”

Words fail you but you still scramble for an answer. 

“He’s trying- we want to make it work. He’s not a bad guy, we’re fixing our issues, he just gets a little emotional but we’re going to make it- I’m going to help him do better. We’re going to be better, for each other.”

Seungmin stares at you with a stressed expression.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask softly.

“Not mad.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Just dis- oh, hey Felix. Did you dye your hair?”

Your head snaps up as Felix steps up to the table. His eyes crinkle as he shoots you a smile. Your heart skips as you take him in. His usual bleached locks are dyed a striking blue and tied into a messy ponytail.

“I did, Seungmin. Thanks for noticing.”

You find yourself frozen. Was there something else different about him? You had always found Felix attractive but something had changed. You find yourself unable to look away as he rests one hand on the back of your chair and leans casually at your side.

“Um, blue? It’s hard to miss. When did you get back?” Seungmin asks.

“Just this morning.”

“How was Australia?”

“Oh, it was stunning. I spent every day on the water. It’s just gorgeous there in the summer, you know?”

The glow of Felix’s skin is nearly golden, his complexion is significantly tanner than when he left a month ago. Each freckle on his face looks more pronounced and draws your attention like scattered stars in the sky. Seungmin rises from his seat and toasts to the Aussie, finally snapping you out of your trance.

“Well, I’m glad to have you back. Now pardon me: I think I see Chan and, uh, I’m honestly not drunk enough for the lecture that needs to happen right now. So you have fun dealing with her.”

“Seungmin,” You plead.

He waves and chugs his drink as he makes his escape. Felix slowly turns to you with a pleasant smile as you sigh in frustration. He gestures to the empty chair.

“May I?”

“Go ahead.”

He takes his seat and brightens your miserable state as he rests his chin in his hands and watches you happily.

“So…”

“You had a good time in Australia?”

“Yeah, thanks for asking. What about you? What have you been up to?”

“Um, you know, the usual…”

“Oh yeah?”

“Um, I broke up with my boyfriend. Then got… back together with my boyfriend.”

Felix’s brow furrows gently.

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

“I am. But we’re still working things out.”

“Right.”

You check your phone and purse your lips as you read the last message from your boyfriend: I’m coming to pick you up, send me your location and wrap it up for the night . You sigh and drop your phone on the table. When you look up Felix is watching you with the softest frown.

“Is that him?”

“Yeah.”

“You look upset.”

You clear your throat.

“I’m not. He’s just… a little stressed out.”

“Is he bothering you?”

“No, no.”

“y/n,” He says firmly, “Be honest, please. I’m not going to be upset with you.”

“He, uh, he wants me to come home.”

He nods.

“Do you want to go home?”

“Not really.”

You sit in silence for a moment. You tap absentmindedly at the condensation on your glass, drawing little shapes with your finger. He continues to watch you, his arms folded now on the table as he studies you with a sympathetic smile. You look up slowly when he speaks again.

“It’s not my place to make assumptions about your boyfriend, but I do know that when I was away everyone was very relieved when you two broke up. I think they saw that you were a lot happier without him. So I don’t care about the semantics of whether or not he’s a good guy or why no one likes him: are you happier being with him than you are without him?”

“I’m happy with him.”

“But could you be happy without him?”

“I want to be with him.”

“I’m not saying you don’t. But are you happy?”

You check your phone again. The volume of messages overwhelms you, so you drop it again.

“He’s tiring. I know it all comes from a good place but I wish he would just respect my space.”

Felix nods gently.

“Of course. Sometimes when people care a lot they don’t know how to respect boundaries. It’s really important that you can set boundaries with him, though. If he cares about you it shouldn’t feel like he’s controlling you.”

“I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to say it so it won’t upset him.”

Felix extends his hand and you hesitantly hand him your phone. He reaches his other hand out and takes yours gently as your fingers drum on the table. He gives you a reassuring squeeze as he types out a message, then he places your phone on the table and slides it back to you.

“How does this sound?”

“I don’t think he’ll like that.”

You feel your chest stir as you look up at Felix’s warm gaze.

“I think he needs to hear it.”

You read the message Felix typed again: I’m still out with friends and I’m not ready to go home yet. If you still want to, you can pick me up later when I call you. I would really appreciate it then. 

“What if he gets mad?”

Felix’s thumb rubs a comforting circle in the back of your hand.

“He won’t. He shouldn’t. You’re allowed to decline his offer, and you shouldn’t do what he wants just to avoid a fight.”

Your finger hovers over the send button.

“What if he won’t pick me up?”

“Then I’ll drive you home.”

Your fingers clench into a fist as you draw your hand back from the phone. Felix watches the action then watches your expression.

“He really wouldn’t like that.”

“Right. Well, you can send the message if you want and we’ll go from there.”

“I don’t know, maybe I should just go home, Lix.”

Your stomach drops as another message comes in. The only relief is the unconditional patience in the smile Felix gives you.

“Why don’t I give you another option?”

“What’s that?”

“Send the message and put your phone away. Then, at the end of the night when you’re ready, you can either go home with your boyfriend or you can go home with me.”

“With you?”

He nods.

“But only if you send that message.”

You look back at your phone.

“Would you really let me spend the night with you?”

“Darling, of course. You don’t even have to question it. I want you to enjoy the rest of your night. Don’t let him control what you want.”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s your decision. I’m here to support you either way.”

You send the message, quick to rip off the metaphorical bandaid, then turn your phone over. Your eyes must be anxious, because Felix reaches across the table to take your other hand.

“y/n, I am so proud of you.”

“I don’t know. That didn’t feel good.”

“Take a deep breath,” You do as he says, “You did the right thing. Now, promise me you won’t look at your phone again until you want to leave?”

“I promise.”

“Yeah?”

You nod and free one of your hands to turn off your phone. He watches then gives you a congratulatory pat on your clasped hands.

“See? I knew you could do it. Good girl.”

You laugh softly and duck your head as your cheeks heat up. He gives you another pat then rises from his seat. He extends his hand and you rise as well as you take it.

“Come on, let’s go find Seungmin.”

Seungmin is at the bar with Chan and Hyunjin when you find him. The latter beams when he notices you and Felix.

“Hey Felix! Hey y/n!”

Chan looks over his shoulder and grins. Felix separates from you to give his friends a hug. Seungmin rolls his eyes and passes them to whisper to you.

“So, you look happier.”

“Um, yeah. Felix is going to drive me home, and I turned my phone off so I can have a good time.”

“Good, you should’ve done that at the beginning of the night.”

You roll your eyes.

“Aren’t you just full of great advice?”

“Are you coming to dance with me or not?” Seungmin complains as he wanders away.

“Just wait a second.”

You catch Felix’s eye as you turn towards him and he steps away from Chan and Hyunjin to whisper to you. His hand gently grasps your elbow as he hovers over you.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m just going to dance with Seungmin.”

He smiles, dazzling you for a moment, then replies. “Alright, have fun. I’ll be around. Let me know when you wanna head out, yeah?”

You nod and reluctantly part from him. He winks over his shoulder before taking his place beside his friends and you turn away to find Seungmin. 

You surprise Seungmin by poking his back when you find him again. He curses softly and turns to you, glaring as you mischievously giggle. You squeal when he pulls you along with him. You let him drag you around the dancefloor, into one of the lounges, then finally to the bar counter. You hang off his arm as he decides what to drink next from the bar menu, offering your opinions thoughtfully as he lists off drink names.

“Don’t order that. You’re going to be falling on your ass in less than an hour.”

He grins.

“Chan offered to drive me home.”

“He’s going to revoke his offer.”

“You know he wouldn’t do that. I can get as drunk as I want, he’s going to take care of me all night.”

“You’re insufferable,” You chide.

He waves you off then shows you the menu again.

“What are you getting?” “I’m not getting anything.”

“Why?”

“I’m not drinking tonight. I promised I wouldn’t.”

Seungmin’s face drops and he gives you a stony glare.

“y/n.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop letting your shitty boyfriend control your life.”

“He’s not controlling my life…”

“He is. You’re literally a whole different person when you’re with him. It makes you lame.”

“I’m not being lame. Hey, I’m ignoring him now aren’t I?”

He shrugs.

“You shouldn’t have to ignore him. He should just let you live and be happy if you give him an ounce of your attention. That’s how men should be.”

“No man is like that.”

“Ken is like that.” “Ken? From Barbie? Ken is not real, Seungmin. And real guys don’t sit around waiting for validation from their Barbie. At least they don’t for me.”

“There’s one that would, if you gave him a fair chance.”

“You?”

“Ew. No. Gross.”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

He tries to focus on choosing his drink again when he notices you staring expectantly at him. He rolls his eyes and thumbs over his shoulder without looking.

“Pretty boy. Six o’clock. Has an accent and blue hair.”

You follow the invisible arrow across the room to Felix, who is sitting with Chan and Hyunjin in one of the lounges.

“Felix? No way.”

“You’re so dumb.”

“Wha- hey!”

“Or maybe just blind… Hey, pardon me, I’ll take one of those please. Thank you,” Seungmin says to the bartender as they pass an order to the person beside you. He pays then he turns to you, “You think Felix wants to be here? The only reason he’s staying here is because of you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“y/n, he just got back from fucking Australia and where was the first place he went? A bar. Why? Because you’re here. He does not want to be here right now, he wants to be at home sleeping.”

“Okay, he doesn’t have to stay. I’ll tell him to go home if he’s waiting up for me.”

“You’re missing the point.”

“What do you mean?”

Seungmin repeats his thought, slowly.

“Felix. Is here. For. You. He came. To see. You.”

“Why… would he do that?”

“Because he’s your fucking Ken. He just went through a month of withdrawals being on a whole separate continent than you. He’s here for your attention.”

“Felix… doesn’t like me like that,” Seungmin glares, “Does he?”

“He’s too much of a gentleman to say something when you’re already seeing someone. You went ahead and got a stupid fucking boyfriend and he’s too good of a guy to tell you to get rid of him. Why do you think we have been trying to get you to dump that dick again.”

“You guys wanted me to dump my boyfriend…”

“So you would be single again by the time Felix got back. Then he would actually make a move on you. But you’re a dumbass so here we are.”

“Felix likes me…”

“A lot. God, I wish you’d snap out of it and lose the douchebag so you could have some fun for once. Felix never shuts up about you, I’m sure being away was just torture for him.”

“I guess I didn’t notice. I was trying so hard to force things into working with my ex, I didn’t imagine that anyone else could want me.”

Seungmin groans in agony. “I’m still not drunk enough for this conversation! Oh, thank you.”

He accepts his drink as the bartender slides it across the counter. You watch Felix from across the room, laughing at some joke Chan just made. Hyunjin’s follow-up comment has him doubling over in laughter. When he rises again his eyes find yours and he grins, unmistakably keeping his eyes on you. You are grinning back before you realize it and quickly turn away as your cheeks flush hotly.

“Felix likes me.”

Seungmin nods as he downs his drink.

“But I need to be single.”

“Bingo.”

“Can you help me break up with my boyfriend?”

Seungmin slowly turns to you with a glint in his eye and cracks his knuckles.

“I’m so glad you decided to come around. Give me your phone.”

You and Seungmin celebrate your new- hopefully brief- status as a single woman by sharing a drink and spending the next half hour dancing around the bar. As you suspected, Seungmin cannot hold his liquor and quickly becomes Chan’s responsibility. He swoops in to sling Seungmin’s arm over his shoulder and keep him on his feet as you say your goodbyes. Seungmin clings to the older like a baby koala and hides his face in his neck as you talk.

“Do you need a drive home? I’m sober.” Chan offers.

“Uh, no, Felix is going to drive me.”

Chan smiles.

“Oh good. I think Hyunjin is getting a lift with me. I’m going to take Seungmin out now; do you think you could tell him to meet us outside?”

“Yeah, of course. Seungmin! Have a good night, baby.”

Seungmin glares at your teasing tone and groans as he follows Chan away. You wave them off then turn your attention to finding Felix and Hyunjin. This task is easy, since Felix has not moved from the lounge. Hyunjin is draped over him, and both look ready for bed. You walk up to them and Felix perks up a bit.

“Hey again,” He greets.

Hyunjin looks at you and sits up to stretch.

“Hey. Jinnie, Chan took Seungmin outside. They’re waiting for you.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

He finishes his stretch then throws his arms around Felix, who squawks in surprise. You giggle as Hyunjin gives him a lingering squeeze then stands up. You accept his hug when he approaches and cackle at the teasing poke he gives you. He pulls back but surprises you when he keeps you locked in his arms and whispers in your ear.

“Seungmin texted me. I’m proud of you. Now, go get your man.”

He pulls back and smiles at your baffled expression, then pats your cheek before walking away. Felix stands and raises his eyebrow as he takes in your surprise.

“What did he say?”

“Um, nothing, I think he just drank too much.”

“Yeah. Hopefully he finds Chan okay.”

You nod in agreement then stare foolishly as Felix extends his hand to you. You quickly slap your palm into his and let him link your fingers as he laughs and leads you out of the bar. When you step out into the winter night you shiver. Felix unlinks your hands for a second to shrug his jacket off and throw it over your shoulders, then he slings his arm around you and pulls you close to him. You rest one hand on his chest to stop him as he goes to continue.

“W-Wait, Lix you’re going to get cold.”

“I’m good. It’s really hot in Australia right now so I got all charged up under the sun there. I don’t even feel the cold now.”

You laugh and usher him to speed up as you head to his car.

“I don’t think it works like that. You can’t hold a charge.”

His endearing smile drops into a contemplative pout as he hums and considers your logic.

“I guess… it must be your radiant smile keeping me warm now?”

You roll your eyes and laugh at his lame joke, but feel the heat rise in your cheeks despite the absurdity. He follows you to the passenger side of his car and holds the door open for you, then gently shuts it behind you. He lightly jogs around to the driver’s seat, making you giggle as he rushes to slam the door behind him.

“You are cold!”

“Sh-Shush!”

You take his jacket off and wrestle him to put it back on. You rub his arms to help warm him up and shake your head as his teeth chatter. He digs his keys out of the pocket and turns the car over, then cranks the heat up. You laugh as he melts into his seat with a cozy smile.

“Mhm…”

“Better?”

“Much. Now take this back.”

You make an exasperated noise as he removes his jacket and throws it unceremoniously over you. You rearrange it like a blanket, then freeze as he leans over you. Your breathing stops as the space between your lips begins to close, then resumes as he draws back. You realize he was just securing your seatbelt for you and had leaned over to find it in the dim light. You hear the soft click then feel his hands gently tighten the belt over your lap. He tucks his jacket in around you then smiles at you.

“There. All good?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. You’re precious cargo.”

Feix winks and drops back into his seat to secure his own belt. He goes to put the car in drive, but hesitates as he looks at you.

“Oh yeah, where are we going?”

“Uh, your place. If that’s still okay?”

“Of course. I’m not going to take back my offer on you.”

Your hand flies to his arm, making him stop to look at you. His brow furrows as you squeeze gently.

“W-Wait. There’s something I want to tell you first.”

“What is it?”

“I broke my promise. I turned my phone on and I looked at my texts.”

His eyebrow pinches with a sympathetic frown.

“Oh, love, that’s alright. You didn’t have to tell me. I just wanted you to enjoy your night.”

“I did. I really did. But I did text my boyfriend back. Um, Seungmin helped me but could you read the message over? Make sure I said the right thing?”

He smiles kindly.

“I’m sure what you said was perfect. But I can read it over for you.”

“Thanks.”

Your hand trembles as you pull your phone out and open the messages. You hope Felix chocks your shakiness up to the lingering cold in the car as you pass your phone to him. He gives you another reassuring smile as he reads the message you composed. His brightness drops as he reads it over, then he reads it a second time and looks at you with a shocked expression.

“You broke up? Are you okay?”

You nod.

“Yeah.”

“But I thought you two were trying to work things out? What happened?”

You take a shuddery breath as anxiety coils in your chest.

“I don’t think we can work things out. I just don’t think we’re a good match for each other.”

He nods in understanding and brings his hand up to gently hold yours.

“And you’re happier this way?”

“Much happier. I think everyone was right that I was better off without him, and I agree. I didn’t really want to get back together with him, but I felt like he deserved one last chance.”

“You tried your best to make it work. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Are you proud of me?”

His smile is achingly sweet as he gazes softly at you.

“So proud of you, darling. So proud.”

Your heart skips at the purr in his voice as he praises you. He removes his hand from yours to finally put the car in drive and start the ride back to his apartment. You settle into your seat and let your eyes shut.

Felix startles you awake when he unbuckles your seatbelt. You did not intend to fall asleep and can only manage an incoherent question as he fixes his jacket around you and scoops you into his arms. You mumble softly as he carries you through his apartment door, which is already slightly ajar, and nuzzle your cheek against the thick plush fabric now covering his arms. You lean back to inspect the coat he must have thrown on when he unlocked the door then watch his expression intently as he sets you on his couch.

“You didn’t have to carry me…”

“I didn’t want to wake you, sleeping beauty. I’ll be right back.”

He throws a blanket over your lap then leaves the apartment. You shrug off his jacket, now too cold compared to the warmth of the apartment, and bundle yourself in a cocoon with the blanket before standing up. You only manage to shuffle a few steps when he returns.

“How are you feeling?”

You let out a long yawn then return his fond smile.

“Good. A little sleepy.”

“Come here. Uh, sorry about the mess.”

Felix opens the door to his bedroom and kicks some clothes under the bed. You giggle as he moves his half-unpacked suitcase away to make a clear path to his dresser, then hastily tidies his bed.

“Lix, it’s okay. I know you live here.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

You laugh at his dramatic pout, which quickly melts into a playful grin.

“Nothing.”

“Right. I’m going to take a shower, let me get you some jammies to change into.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Oh, what, and let you get into my bed with your bar clothes on? Right.”

Your cheeks heat up at the casual suggestion as he begins digging through his dresser.

“I can sleep on the couch.”

“You could. But my couch is the worst. You know that. And you still need pajamas.”

“Where are you going to sleep? Don’t say the couch.”

“I’m the host and as the host you have to listen to me. You get the bed and I get the couch. End of story.”

He places the pajamas on the bed and looks at you. He props his hands on his hips and tilts his head as you cross your arms.

“What, darling?”

“You won’t get a good night’s sleep.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You just got home, don’t you want to sleep in your own bed?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“We should both just sleep in your bed.”

“Both of us?”

You pick the pajamas up from the bed and turn to see his astonished expression.

“Oh. We don’t have to if it’ll make you uncomfortable?”

“No! N-No, um, it’s fine. No worries. Sounds good.”

Felix darts out of the room, slamming the door behind him. You wait in silence until you hear the shower begin to run, then sigh to yourself in the silence. You quickly shuck off your clothes and don the pajamas Felix picked for you. You crawl into his bed and tuck yourself under the covers, then play absentmindedly on your phone until he returns. He peeks his head in the door first and waits in silence for you to notice him.

“What’s up, Lix?”

“Um, I forgot my clothes.”

“So?”

“I just have a towel on.”

Your heart thumps.

“That’s okay. You can come in.”

“Ah, alright. As long as it’s okay with you.”

He enters the room casually with your assurance. You swallow and avert your eyes until he passes, then allow your gaze to return. You admire the defined muscles of his back and the freckles that scatter over his bare skin. His hair is damp, blue locks clinging to the base of his neck. You jump when he turns to look at you with a smile that creeps wider as your eyes meet.

“You can have a shower too, if you want?”

“No thanks, I’m already comfortable.”

“Yeah? You look a little nervous.”

You laugh as he turns away. You squirm in your spot as you watch him slowly search through his drawers. You clear your throat gently and he turns to you again.

“Felix?”

“Yes?”

 “Can you come here?”

“R-Right now?”

“I’ll be quick.”

A shudder ripples through you as he slowly makes his way over to the bed and tentatively sits beside you. He tilts his head and watches you with endearingly soft eyes.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Mhm, go ahead.”

“You’ve been really nice to me tonight. Like, especially nice. Is there a reason for that?”

He blinks then grins as he replies, “I just like you, silly.”

“Like me in what way?”

He chuckles.

“Ah, well,” He bites his lip then pokes his tongue through his teeth, “They’re not very good at keeping secrets, are they?”

You giggle as he leans closer and lounges on his side. He rests his chin in his hand and smiles up at you. You follow his lead and lay down next to him, trying to conceal your excited smile in the pillow beneath you. He reaches out to brush his thumb over your cheek and gently turns you to face him.

“Why are you being shy now, darling?”

“I don’t know. You didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t? Oh, I should probably do that then.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Felix,” You whine.

He chuckles and curls one hand around your waist to pull you closer. You follow obediently and stare expectantly at him.

“Is this okay? It isn’t too much, right?”

“Mhm, a gentle brush of the waist. How will I ever recover?”

“Aha, come on, darling. I know what I do to you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” You fib.

He winks and inches closer.

“Sure.”

Your hand trembles as you place it on his stomach, and you cower at his knowing smirk.

“Be nice.”

“I’m especially nice. You said it yourself.”

“I take it back.”

“Ha. Well, seriously though. Are you alright? Do you want to slow down?”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I guess I imagined it would be a bit different than this. And I wouldn’t make a move on you the same night you left your boyfriend.”

You shrug.

“It’s been over for a while with him. You don’t need to hold back, Lix. I want to be here with you.”

“Half-naked?”

“Well, that’s just you.”

He snorts but his cheeks still brighten with embarrassment. 

“So, how did you imagine it?”

“Hm?”

You roll your eyes as Felix tries to feign innocence.

“You know. How did you imagine you would confess? I heard you missed me, you must have thought about it.”

He laughs dryly.

“Seungmin told you that?”

“Oh, so you didn’t miss me?”

“Oh, darling,” Felix breathes, “I couldn’t even begin…”

Your eyes flutter shut as he leans in. His shaky breath sweeps over your lips and your lip twitches when he hesitates.

“Would you like me to kiss you?” He asks.

“What do you think?”

Your eyes open only to catch a glimpse of his cheeky grin, then fall shut again as he closes the distance between you. You trade a few kisses, deep and needy, before he pulls away.

“You know I really like you, right?”

“I know. I like you too, Lixie.”

He steals another quick kiss then murmurs, “You do?”

“Mh-hm. So much.”

“Oh, good.”

You giggle and slide your hand over his back as he straddles your waist. Your thumb glides over his spine, then along the waistband of his towel. You blink up in adoration as he rests his forehead against yours.

“This isn’t all I want from you. Kisses and… what I mean is that I want you. But not just your body, I want to take care of you. Fuck, it’s way too soon to say this but I know I mean it.”

“Say what?”

“I love you.”

You stare in surprise as he traps you in his intimate gaze. He seems to come back to reality as the silence carries on.

“Y-You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s fast.”

“Lix… Do you mean it?”

“What? Of course. Yes, of course I do.”

“Then can you say it again?”

He laughs softly.

“I love you, y/n. It’s okay if you’re not ready for something serious but I-”

“I love you.”

“I know I want to be the one that cares for you. I want to spend forever with you, even if you don’t think that’s what you want it’s okay. I-”

“Felix. I love you.”

“I- I love you too,” He heaves.

You kiss the top of his head fondly as he buries his heated face in your chest.

“Mhm. Happy?”

“Yes.”

“I can tell.”

His hips jump as you feel him hardening beneath the towel.

“Don’t tease me.”

You giggle.

“You’re getting turned on by me saying ‘I love you’. It’s adorable.”

He makes a strangled sound as you buck your hips up against his.

“Y-You’re unfair. If you knew how much I…”

“What? Want me?”

“Mhh-hhmn… Need you.”

He hums praise as you deliver a viciously slow swirl of your hips. He groans and settles into your lap while giving a tentative rock, and moans softly into your neck.

“So cute, Lix.”

“Ah… y/n, you have no idea how happy I am.”

His voice rumbles in your chest as your hips press together tightly.

“You could tell me? Or show me?”

“Hah… I’ve been waiting so long to tell you…”

He pushes himself up to brace himself over you, lips failing to make sound when your eyes fall on him. You smile and pull him down for a kiss, which he trails down to your neck. A moan escapes your lips as he nips his way to your ear and lingers there.

“I’m so proud of you. I knew he wasn’t good for you.”

“Hmn…”

“I wanted you to leave him so badly, and when you got back together I thought I missed my chance.”

“Felix…”

He pecks your cheek then continues.

“You deserve so much better than him, you know? You deserve everything.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

The next kiss leaves you breathless and writhing beneath him. His hands slip under your borrowed shirt and you pull it off at the first opportunity. He whimpers into your mouth between soft gasps and pants, his erection still nestled firmly between your shifting bodies. He dips his fingers beneath your pants and swallows the moan he draws out when his fingers slip past your panties. He teases your folds for a moment before breaching your sex.

“Fe-lix,” You cry when he circles your warmth.

“Ha… That good?”

“Ah-huh,” You babble dumbly, clinging to him as he strokes deeper.

He moves in, mouthing at your neck and wrapping his arm around you to hold you closer. Your hands find purchase over his back and shoulder blades. He brushes his lips over your ear and chuckles softly.

“Good girl. You like that, huh? You like being my good girl?”

“Mh-hmn!”

“Oh, I knew you would. I knew you’d come around to me, baby.”

You sob softly and arch your back as he teases a sensitive spot.

“F-Felix, please!”

“You don’t have to beg. I’ll get you there, baby.”

“Fuck, h-hahah you’re a tease…”

He hums.

“I disagree. A tease would do something like this.”

He pulls his hand from your pants and smirks as you cry out in frustration.

“Lix!”

You throw your head back and whimper as he kisses your taut throat. He begins sliding your bottoms off and you quickly follow his lead, kicking them off as he moves above you and removes his towel. You eye him up and giggle giddily as he presses his hips flush to yours. Your noses bump when you move in to kiss each other and you both laugh out. You forgive his teasing only long enough for you to suck a hickey into his neck as he blindly scrounges a condom from the bedside drawer. Once he has slipped it on and begins guiding your legs over his hips, you let out a pathetic whine.

“Don’t cry, baby,” He growls, his sultry voice conflicting with the light circles he rubs into your hips, “Be a little patient, yeah? We have all night.”

“Mhm…But I thought you needed me?”

He seems surprised but grins at your comment.

“Oh, darling, I do. But let’s take it slow the first time.”

“That would be so romantic if I wasn’t totally losing it right now.”

Your thighs tremble as Felix ruts his cock between your folds. You moan loudly and hook your arms around his shoulders to draw him closer.

“You’re so lovely, darling. How did I ever get so lucky?”

“Mhm… You could be getting lucky right now.”

“Alright, alright.”

He chuckles and pecks your jaw as he finally eases into you. You gasp and lock your legs behind his back as he starts a lazy rhythm. You turn your head and let your eyes flutter shut as he presses a kiss to your forehead and thrusts himself deeper. You mumble his name dazedly then smirk at the moans and grunts that spill from his lips. One of your hands slides up into his hair as he cups the back of your neck sweetly.

“B-Baby?”

You make a noise of affirmation as another giggling moan bubbles up from your chest. The tension in your abdomen swirls and tightens as you listen to his soft sounds. He laughs breathlessly and plants messy kisses along your jawline, drawing another pleased noise from you.

“That good?”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah, roll over for me, beautiful?”

You stifle your complaint when he pulls away then guides you to flip onto your hands and knees. One of his hands slides around your hip and between your legs to toy with your clit. The other finds purchase on the pillow beside your head, as you melt from his touch and bury your face there. He turns your head and lovingly brushes stray hairs from your face before curling his body over yours. He links your hands as he enters you again with a swift push of his hips.

The room fills with the sound of timed thrusts and erratic moans. Felix’s hand between your legs helps keep your back raised while you let your torso sink into the bed. You place one of your hands on the headboard to push against him as his pace intensifies. Your legs quiver as your climax approaches, and he pulls you from your cock-drunk state by wetly kissing your ear.

“Still good? Should I, ngh, slow down?”

“Don’t, hah, stop.”

“Close?”

“S-So close.”

He kisses you, although his heavy moans prevent you from keeping your lips locked for more than a few seconds. It dissolves into a sloppy brush of his lips on your chin and you both giggle again as you come more undone for each other.

“Felix,” You chant softly, “O-Oh my God.”

“That’s right. That’s my girl.”

Your hold on his hand tightens moments before your climax washes over you. Your knees buckle and you sob from the stimulation on your clit as his movements become more desperate. You bury your face in the pillow with a pitiful nuzzle and splay your palm against the headboard.

“Y-You okay?”

You give him a thumbs up and hear him wheeze as you whine shamelessly. The overstimulation is intense but you love it all the same.

“Oh, fuck, Felix,” You groan as he buries himself to the hilt and stills behind you.

His only response is a pitchy sound that dissolves into a groan as your throbbing heat brings him to his climax. You drowsily turn your head to kiss the back of his hand as he noses at your shoulder. He manages to kiss the back of your neck before pulling out and collapsing beside you. He laughs softly as you catch your breaths.

“I love you, Felix.”

He grins and pulls you into his arms to nuzzle his nose against yours.

“I love you more.”

“Mhm… Thank you for waiting so long for me.”

He sighs dreamily.

“I’m just happy to be with you now, love.”

Snowed In

Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

W/c: 7.9k

Warnings: forced proximity, mention of smoking, mention of cheating, unprotected sex, oral receiving, fingering, crying during sex, both characters are kinda toxic lol

Synopsis: a snowstorm traps you inside with none other than your perplexing ex-boyfriend Hyunjin, leaving the two of you to contemplate the relationship you once had.

•

“There’s more tape in the closet by the stairs,” you say to Hyunjin.

He’s already packed three boxes of his stuff- old paraphernalia from the days you were still together. Days which now remained a mystery to you- how did you ever tolerate each other long enough to fall this deep? Having him back like this, it’s clear to you why things ended the way they did. He’s as obstinate as they come- never willing to bend for you or anyone but himself. Your tides crash against his unmoving shore, dissipating whatever love had once existed into thin lines of regret and indignation.

What was once the love of your life, now reduced to nothing more but this- a stranger in your home, memories of the role he once played neatly stacked into cardboard boxes and sealed away for the next victim of his antics. Sometimes it felt he was never meant to be more than this- more than a fleeting, breaking thing, quick to dissolve at your fingertips and free himself of your hold.

“Can you move any faster than this? I have somewhere to be tonight.” Your voice is laced with rancor, and Hyunjin rolls his eyes at the familiarity of it all.

“As if you ever cared about being late anywhere. You couldn’t even show up to our first date on time.”

You squint your eyes at him through the mirror in front of you. He’s so loathsome when he wants to be- anyone who knows him remembers the way he begged you to go on a date with him, for months, only to be rejected time and time again. When you finally did agree to go on a date with him, there was an ultimatum involved- go out for dinner or he’d keep the wallet you “dropped” in the parking lot. One that he so conveniently found- one that he snagged from atop your work desk.

Hyunjin was calculated from the moment he saw you- quick to make your friends his, finding a place within your social circle and gaining approval from those closest to you. He frequented your favorite coffee shops, kept up with your social media, and even took an interest in all your favorite hobbies. While your friends downed shots of whiskey and picked up random men at bars, Hyunjin stayed close to you, grazing his fingertips against your skin and whispering compliments in your ear at every chance he got.

It didn’t take long before you were wrapped around his finger- exactly the way he’d planned for it to be. You quickly became the first to invite him to dive bars on Friday nights, the first to text him song recommendations and new coffee recipes, even first to make subtle advances so that you could feel his skin against your touch.

A graze of his hand against your cheek was all it took one October night, before you gave yourself away to him completely. Like giddy schoolchildren, his hand in yours, running about the street to his place, where he fucked you three times in a row. He was patient and forgiving with his kisses, but he fucked you like he might lose you. He lit a joint beside you as you came down from your third orgasm. You thought you might be in love.

“You’ll have to help me carry all this down to the car,” Hyunjin interrupts your thoughts. You pause applying your eyeliner to glance at him through the mirror again.

“You couldn’t have asked earlier?” You cap the eyeliner shut, slamming it down on the console table and turning around to face him with a vexed expression.

Hyunjin’s beautiful- he’s always been beautiful. One of the things that angered you the most about him. The whole world, with your beautiful boy at their disposal, to do whatever they pleased with him. It never took much either- he could raise his hand in a diner and have a flock of men and women within his radius, ready to do whatever, whenever. He looks elegant in a crimson cardigan, one button undone below his jutting clavicles, tucked neatly into a slim pair of black trousers. A silver watch around his wrist glints under a beam of light as he looks down at the disarray of boxes.

“Eleven boxes,” he says teasingly. “So you can take 6 and I’ll take 5.”

You scoff in response. “That’s not happening. Take the first one to the car and I’ll meet you down with my half.”

You turn around again to finish your makeup, when a loud buzzing sound interrupts the two of you. The intercom buzzes once, and then twice, and you’re quick to make your way to answer before Hyunjin can.

“Hello?” You speak softly, holding the button and cupping the box to prevent Hyunjin from listening. A futile effort, as he’s already listening closely from beside you.

“Hello ma’am, this is management. We wanted to inform you of a weather advisory for the remainder of the evening. All tenants are advised to stay indoors while the snow storm passes through tonight. Please shelter in place immediately and do not plan to operate your vehicle until at least tomorrow morning-”

“Tomorrow morning?” You interrupt. “No, no, my guest was just heading down. Could you- is there somebody who can help with a few boxes?”

“I’m sorry,” the voice says. “But no one is allowed to operate their vehicles off the property right now unless it’s an emergency. We have been ordered by the county.”

“It is an emergency,” you say quickly, eyes flickering over Hyunjin’s smug expression from beside you.

“What is the emergency?” The voice queries, and Hyunjin practically pushes you aside to speak into the box on his own.

“The emergency,” he says, “is that she’s so prideful she can’t provide shelter to a friend for one night.”

The voice on the other end goes quiet, and you pinch the bridge of your noise in annoyance. With a deep sigh, you motion Hyunjin aside and take over the intercom once again. “Nevermind, sir. We will stay inside. Thank you.”

A small click indicates his departure, and you spin around on your heel to face Hyunjin again, this time infuriated with him.

“Seriously? You couldn’t have lied or something?”

“What did you want me to say? That I’m having a baby? There’s a fire in here? You heard him, I can’t drive on these roads. I know you hate me, but that’s low even coming from you.”

Your makeup items are quickly stuffed back into your bag as you avoid eye contact with him, thoughts rushing through your head as you realize he may have to stay here for a few hours. You catch a glimpse of the window as you consolidate your products, noting the way the city lights are now blurred by frost on the windows. The falling snow isn’t visible from in here, but a growing chill around you confirms that management is correct.

“I’ll be in my room for the night. The lock isn’t working, so knock if you need something. And don’t touch anything.”

He holds his hands up like he’s guilty of something- and he might be, accidentally intruding in your space like this, tainting the atmosphere with his uncompromising jokes and mulish expression. But he lived here once too- drank coffee in the same kitchen you now call yours, fixed the shitty space heater when it broke, and fucked you on your mattress like it was an extension of you. Intruding was hardly the word when traces of him lined the walls- and bedsheets, still.

“Okay,” he says with a mocking tone, and he slumps over on the sofa like he owns it now.

*

2 hours pass, and the situation feels like something out of a horror movie- only the antagonist is a shitty ex boyfriend, and the movie has been left on pause. Hyunjin doesn’t disturb you, and you don’t disturb him. The apartment is quiet, maybe too quiet, but as you wake from your evening slumber, a sound in the kitchen reaffirms this was not just a nightmare.

“What are you doing? I told you not to touch anything.”

He turns around momentarily, drawing his attention back to the stove he towers over. “I was making us coffee. Unless you don’t want any.”

A deep swallow in your throat. Your pride is replaced with reluctance, taking a step toward him and finding a seat on the bar stool. “Sure. Thanks.”

When he’s finished, he places the speckled mug in front of you, sauntering over to the couch and spreading across it like he’s going to sleep. But he doesn’t, instead he runs two hands through his hair, licking his lips and smiling mischievously.

“I was supposed to be at an art show tonight.”

You say nothing.

“They’re displaying that one I painted when we were still together- you know, with the lilies?” He sits up to look at you. “Remember?”

“Yes, I remember. The one you fought with me about.”

He laughs, and your face involuntarily reacts with a smile at the sound. His eyes form little crescents as his head rolls back, melodic giggles leaving his parted lips. Hyunjin’s laugh was one you could never forget- one that echoed throughout the apartment despite his absence, one you found a home in. One you missed, even.

“I didn’t fight with you,” he says. “It was a disagreement. There’s a difference.”

You remember that morning vividly. Hyunjin hadn’t slept that night, sitting cross-legged in front of the canvas while he painted finishing touches on the assortment of blushing lilies immersed in a glass vase. It was one of your favorites, representative of both your birth month and Hyunjin’s favorite flower.

“They’re too pink.” He’d told you, frustration clear in his tone.

“They’re perfect,” you said, crouching down beside him and pressing a chaste kiss to his temple.

And in all the unpredictability that was Hwang Hyunjin, he wielded the box cutter he kept tucked away in the pocket of his apron, crawling forward in a swift motion and slashing the painting across its face. The lilies seemed to wither as the now-cut corners folded inwards and curled in decay, still wet from the fresh paint.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?” You said, reaching for the canvas like it was a dying child, caressing the two-dimensional petals in trembling hands as you tried your best to mold the fabric back to its place, to no avail. Hyunjin laughed, head rolled back as he let his wicked cackles fill the space around you, and you began to cry at the scene. He was always that way- feeding mercilessly off your stunned reactions, with you always more shocked than the last time at how unpredictable he could be at times.

He laughed as you cried, both sounds waltzing around the makeshift studio in the spare room of your apartment.

You left him alone for several hours that day, only returning to deliver food and water to him, Hyunjin still sat in that same spot on the studio floor. The painting was tossed aside like a piece of garbage, a new canvas erected in front of him with fresh pencil sketches and colors.

As he dug into the steaming bowl of ramen provided, you propped up the canvas, beginning your task of repairing the painting by gluing a small patch to the cut and coating it with varnish. He watched through ravenous mouthfuls as the petals laid flat like they once had, giving life to his art again. And through frustrated sniffles, you mixed a new shade of pink on his pallet, a lighter one this time, sliding it over to him and placing the paintbrush between his fingers where his chopsticks were.

“Please don’t ruin it this time.”

Hyunjin placed his dinner back on the wooden floor, making his way over to you and enveloping you in a hug- one that meant to say sorry in his absence of words. But Hyunjin was never one for apologies, you quickly learned, as his hardened bulge pressed against your thighs. He peppered kisses down the column of your neck, fingers grazing the hem of your shirt as he began to take it off you, no words of protest from your end. With dizzying thoughts, and before you could comprehend the pool of arousal that was now formed between your legs, he was fucking you there in his studio, one hand cupped around your face, forcing your gaze onto the painting.

“Know what lilies represent?” He said between rhythmic thrusts. “Innocence. And purity. And devotion, and fertility.”

Your eyebrows arched up in pleasure, too fucked out to respond to his words, simply moaning loudly in response.

“And your birth month is a lily. Sound like you? Innocent? Pure? Fertile?” His thrusts increased in pace, your hands searching desperately for somewhere to steady your body, now trembling with pleasure as you approached your high.

He took note of your struggle, taking your hand in his as he gave it a squeeze, another way of saying he was sorry for his actions. Your eyes remained locked on the painting, which now seemed to morph into hues of flesh and arousal, the petals mirroring your wet cunt filled so deliciously and completely by Hyunjin. And as he reached his orgasm, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing down the throat he kept a firm hold of. “My lily,” he cooed between kisses and a release inside of you. “My sweet, pure lily.”

*

Three hours in, the space heater has given out. A typical occurrence from when Hyunjin still lived here, but an aggravating one nonetheless.

“It hadn’t given out in the time you were gone. Must be some kind of curse when you’re around.”

Hyunjin laughs wickedly, like he knows something. “I’ll get the screwdriver.”

As you watch him disassemble the old thing, you take note of the way his nimble fingers hold each tool so delicately, much like how he handles his art supplies. You were no stranger to them during your time together, often picking him up new pieces of charcoal and sketch pads for him on your way home from work. Your love language had always been the little gifts you pampered him with, falling deeper in love with him whenever he’d excitedly dig through the bag of goodies and rope you into a hug. Hugs- physical affection, Hyunjin’s love language. The only way he knew to express the conflicting emotions in his pretty mind- pacify you with a kiss, or a swaying hug, or a myriad of lewd positions in your bed together.

Part of you knows Hyunjin is conditioned to be this way. Something of a mad artist, good with his fingers and bad with his words, chased after everything he ever wanted and never learned to take no for an answer. There was never a moment he had to sit with his own mind, sit with his intimate conscience and teach himself to tear his walls down. You were always there to do that- remind him of the ways in which he fell short, express enough emotions for the two of you and live with the knowledge that you were, in many ways, an extension of him. In all his madness, and lust and adoration. But he was never going to change- and hard as may have tried, you could never change him.

“What are you thinking about?” Hyunjin asks, still focused on the tilt switch below him. His ebony hair hangs loosely in front of him, caressing his face the way your hands used to.

Your fingers embrace the warm mug of coffee in front of you, observing as steam disappears in the cold air in front of you. “I’m thinking about the first time you ever cried in front of me.”

He stops what he’s doing for a second, looking up at you with furrowed brows. “What?”

“I’m just being honest,” you say in response, getting up from the bar stool to now sit on the couch. “Do you remember?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “I don’t cry. I never cry.”

You scoff. Hyunjin cries at everything, albeit trivial instances- maybe it’s the Pisces in him, or maybe it makes up for the lack of using his words to convey emotions. Either way, he’s always been a crier- and you, a shoulder to lean on.

“Your painting was rejected. For the January gallery show. By that guy- the really stuck-up one, remember? You said he looked like a praying mantis. All beady-eyed and skinny.”

Hyunjin laughs, fumbling with the screwdriver. “Even his hands bent at the wrists. Like a bug.”

You smile at him- you reckon it’s the first time he’s ever recalled crying in front of you. That was the difficult part- despite the crying, you were never to speak of it. Like it didn’t happen, like it wasn’t a natural part of him. It made him feel nonhuman at times, all those resolute efforts to mask who he was. But you knew, truths that lived and died with you.

He sticks his tongue out in focus as he fixes the screws back onto the panel. “He’s the gallery host. For tonight’s event.”

Your heart sinks at his words. It was a dream of Hyunjin’s to avenge the death of his art by praying mantis art man, and you hadn’t known he was selected for the gallery this time. Only to wind up here, with you, stuck in the dingy apartment you used to call home with him.

“Fuck. Hyune, I’m sorry,” you say with wide eyes. “I wouldn’t have asked you to come by tonight if I knew.”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “Better I’m stuck here than the gallery. I’d be snowed in with bottles of champagne and lots of pretty girls.”

He smirks at you mischievously, and you roll your eyes playfully. As he fixes on the last screw, he restarts the heater, slouching back in satisfaction as the familiar hum starts up again. “Thanks,” you say, sitting back and putting your feet up.

He winks, and then shuts his eyes as his hands fold over his chest. Your phone interrupts the comfortable silence, and you make your way back to the bar stool to answer it.

“Hello? Oh, yes, hi! Yeah, I’m so sorry… Yes, that works for me. Thanks, and sorry again. Okay, bye for now!”

When you hang up, Hyunjin’s head is raised curiously.

“Who was that?”

You take a deep breath as you set your phone aside again. “That was… my plans for the night.”

He cocks his head. “Like, a friend?”

“Like, a date,” you finally say. Hyunjin scoffs casually, lying down again.

“You’re going on a date.”

“Was,” you interject. “He’s snowed in, too. We’re planning for something tomorrow if the weather’s good.”

Hyunjin nods, and you can see that his eyes are glued to the ceiling now. Jealousy- one of Hyunjin’s worst traits. Be a waiter, a friend, even the trash guy on Mondays, Hyunjin was a raging, jealous boyfriend when you were together. At times it was flattering, making you blush when he’d give creepy men stares at bars, holding you closer and letting everyone know you were his. And then things escalated.

The doorman stopped greeting you, per Hyunjin’s request, citing that he was “taking a special interest in you”. Bartenders had to take your orders through Hyunjin, who turned irate at the sight of you smiling at another man. Even your close male friends distanced themselves when he was around, feeling uncomfortable at the way he’d interrupt your conversations. Your confrontation about it turned into a screaming match, followed by 2-hour makeup sex in the shower- but his jealous tendencies never ceased.

“How’d you meet?” Hyunjin asked suddenly, fidgeting with the skin around his fingernails. He no longer wears a smile, but a tight-lipped, stern expression.

“He’s… a friend.” You reply.

“Jisung,” he whispers suddenly, and you swallow a lump in your throat.

Han Jisung, the mutual friend you always told Hyunjin not to worry about. The friend who always got a little too close, the friend who leaned on you for emotional support during your lows. The friend who confided in you with all of his relationship issues, and the one you confided in when Hyunjin was at his worst. The same friend you slept with to make Hyunjin jealous.

“I knew it,” he said, draping an arm over his eyes. “I had a feeling it wasn’t over from that one time.”

“Hyune, we’re not together anymore.”

“We were together,” he says. “When you let him fuck you.”

A statement he’s not wrong about. A decision you weren’t proud of- but one that was a long time coming. It had been a week straight of arguing with Hyunjin- him, locked up in his room working on paintings and destroying the ones he didn’t like. Repeating the cycle like he’d gone mad- refusing to eat and drink, getting no sleep and engaging in screaming matches with you when you were home from work. You opted to stay with Jisung that weekend, unable to put up with his state of mind. A little red wine, crying into Jisung’s shoulder, and you found yourself betraying the one thing you swore you never would- Hyunjin’s trust.

It was you who told him, throwing it on him like a casual work chat when you returned.

Hyunjin never took something so hard in his life. You watched his sleepless nights and maddened sessions turn from weeks into months- going mute for the better part of each day, only talking to ask you questions about Jisung. “Was he better than me?”

“No, Hyune,” you’d coo, holding him in your gentle embrace as he cried. “No one’s better than you. I was angry, and I made a mistake. There’s no one better than you.”

And in the second month, he forgave you, finally giving into your touch as his fingers found their way inside of you, using his voice boldly for the first time to demand the same answers from your quivering figure under him. “Was it better than this? Does he feel better than this?” You cried under him, validating his ego again in an orchestra of moans, holding him in your arms like you might lose him. And you almost did- a feeling you swore to never replicate.

Your bodies one again, your souls one again. Jisung was promptly cut out of your life, Hyunjin’s existence enough to fulfill a lifetime of friends and lovers. His body made for you, his mind consuming you whole.

“You’ve always been so jealous,” you say to Hyunjin, drawing his attention back to the conversation.

He fixes his hair. “And you, a cheater. Forgive us our sins.”

“I had reason to. You’re just a mean person when you want to be.”

“Yeah?” He queries. “So mean I fixed your heater? So mean I got you those tickets you wanted last summer?”

The tickets.

Hyunjin had bought you tickets to Paris last summer, a surprise that left you in shock, crying like a baby when he presented them to you. They were “complementary” with the exhibition he was chosen for- three nights in Le Marais, a showing of his gallery, and a free dinner at the host’s favorite restaurant. It was his most upscale showing yet, and although the tickets were originally meant for a manager of sorts, he’d bent some rules to bring you along. (This meant he paid for the tickets, something he never told you about until much later.)

The trip was nothing short of a dream- days spent looking at art and watching Hyunjin network with the guests, nights spent trying fancy French foods and making love in the hotel bed until you couldn’t anymore. But the reveal that he’d actually paid for the tickets hit you hard.

He let it slip accidentally, annoyed at the way his manager was pressing him to contact guests from the museum, huffing a simple “I paid to get him off my ass and he’s still like this.”

After pressing him for answers, it all made sense, and you bawled like a baby again, this time ridden with guilt. Hyunjin rubbed your back in gentle circles, chuckling at the way you gripped his t-shirt and cried harder into the fabric. “You should’ve taken him instead,” you said to him between sobs. “I was a shitty girlfriend to you and I didn’t deserve to go.”

Of course this was about Jisung, and he knew that. But he also knew that he loved you- this emotional, second half of him, one that he breathed life and love into, and that one instance of letting it slip through his fingers was not going to come between the two of you. “But you’re here,” he told you. “You didn’t leave. I’m not going anywhere either. We’ll always have Paris.”

And you cried harder at his words, for the man who so desperately needed you like you needed him, two halves working to keep one whole being alive.

*

4 hours into the night, Hyunjin begins getting stir-crazy.

“It’s hot in here- you’re not hot? I feel like I’m going insane. What if we tell them I’m having a baby? Maybe they’ll-”

“Hyunjin. Calm down. They’re not letting us out for the night. You’re not going anywhere.”

He rips off his cardigan, tossing it aside dramatically and leaning back on his forearms with his eyes shut. You take in the view- his toned arms are now fully on display in a ribbed white tank top, a simple gold necklace now visible against his broad chest. He’s still tall and lean as he ever was, but his biceps seem to have filled out, and your mouth parts a little at the sight.

“You’re staring,” he says with his eyes still shut.

“No, I’m not.”

You pull your own sweater tighter around you, trying your best to keep a casual demeanor in his presence. He opens one eye, taking a peak at your clear nervousness.

“Don’t be shy,” he says smugly. “It’s stuffy in here.”

You swallow, saying nothing as you turn away from him and peel your own sweater off over your head. The cream white knit falls gently to the floor, leaving you in nothing but a pair of jeans and a slim-fitting black shirt. When you turn back around, he’s adjusted his position so that his legs are spread comfortably, a smug grin still plastered on his pretty face.

“Is that a tattoo?” He asks inquisitively.

You palm over the little heart on your inner elbow, sitting down in front of him and undoing your hair from its loose braid.

“Yeah.”

“I like it,” he says, flashing you his teeth like a stamp of approval.

“I thought you hated tattoos,” you retort. “You never wanted me to get any.”

“I said you had beautiful skin,” he counters. “And that covering it in ink would be a waste.”

“Same thing.”

“Not exactly,” he says, tilting his head toward you. “You prove me wrong time and time again.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You say, raking your fingers through your hair and sitting cross-legged in front of him on the rug.

“It means,” Hyunjin says, crawling toward you to take your arm in his. He traces the heart with his index finger, and then brings it close to his mouth, where he presses his lips to it and graces it with a single, gentle kiss. “I like this one.”

You retract your arm from his hold, cheeks set ablaze at his words. He’s always been like this, too- flirting in every possible way he can, quick to make any situation either romantic or sexual to fluster you. And it works- he’s somewhat of a pro at it now.

Hyunjin laughs loudly at your reaction. “I’m starving.” And then he hoists himself up again, making his way to the kitchen to find something for dinner.

You want to scream when he’s like this- quick to wrap you around his finger momentarily, leaving you dizzy with thoughts of him, only to leave you hanging like it’s nothing- like there’s no history between the two of you. A murder with no weapon, no motive- just a victim. You. Always.

After you’ve both scarfed down bowls of rice, Hyunjin proposes a game. Uncharacteristic of him since you know he typically prefers his silence, but you digress.

“Truth or dare?” Hyunjin asks.

“Truth.”

He hums in response, crafting a question in his mind. “What’s my best feature?”

You roll your eyes. “I said no weird questions! Can you at least try to make this whole thing platonic?”

“What’s weird about that?” He queries. “There’s nothing romantic about answering a question. You’re the one making it weird.”

“Okay fine, dare.”

He raises his eyebrows, declining a change in selection.

“God! Fine, I don’t know- your hair, I guess.”

He tosses his hair around like he’s in a shampoo commercial, twisting the ends around his index finger. “Good answer. Your turn.”

You roll your eyes at him again. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

You take a moment to think. In actuality, there are so many things you want to ask him- too many things. You don’t know much about the man sitting across from you- or at least not as much as you once knew so many months ago. He’s never been an open book, but the time apart from each other has driven a stake between the two of you, and having him in your living room like this offers you ample time to tear down his walls like you never could before.

“Y/n?” He asks, cocking his head to one side.

“Why’d you stay?” You ask breathlessly.

“What?”

You swallow, determined to get an answer out of him. “I mean, after the whole thing with Jisung. Why did you stay? You could’ve left, you could’ve gone with any other girl or guy you dreamed of. What was in it for you?”

He purses his lips together in thought.

“I dunno. I guess I was in love.”

You shake your head at him. “No, you weren’t in love, Hyune. We never even said it to each other.”

He runs his hands through his hair, smoothing it back- a nervous habit of his, you recall. “You asked, that’s my answer. I said I guessed.”

With a lump forming in your throat, you drop the question with a nod. He’s visibly more serious now, his upper body turned away from you as he glances out the window and observes the heavy snowfall. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of the space heater and your breathing as he maintains his composure again. Your heartbeat has quickened at the word love- one you never said to each other.

“I love you is an overrated philosophy,” Hyunjin had told you on the balcony in Paris, arms wrapped around you while you took in the vast skyline. “What about I care about you? Or I need you? Those sound more significant, more like us. Let’s not lose ourselves to outdated philosophies.”

And when he put it like that, it made sense. You did love him, but you also cared about him, needed him, the whole nine yards. The difference in a single word did not change what you shared. In fact, putting weight into a single word felt like it might only serve to drive you apart someday. (Come to find out it wasn’t a word you had to attribute that to.)

“It’s late,” you say to him, a guilty conscience consuming your mind. “We should just get some sleep.”

“Why did you stay?” Hyunjin asks, turning his body toward you again. “You had every reason to leave. Why did you put up with a lousy painter for all the time you did? Why didn’t you just book it with Jisung the first chance you got?”

Your throat is dry. The questions are valid- an extension of the ones you asked him. And yet, you don’t have the answers. You think you understand now.

“I… I don’t know. I think maybe I needed you.”

I needed you, I cared for you, I loved you.

Hyunjin narrows his eyes. “Your draw.”

You’re dancing with the devil now, fully at his mercy to do whatever you want with this game of yours. All the walls he so carefully built in your time together, and yet you finally hold the first stone in your hands, aimed and ready to tear them down like you’d always dreamt of. This much freedom was dangerous- what did Hyunjin want from having you in this position? What could he possibly gain from offering you the irrevocable truths that lied behind this? You can’t take your aim. Not yet- not like this.

“I don’t want this,” you say weakly, and brows furrow at your words. “I don’t understand why things happened the way they did. But it’s behind us now.”

He extends a hand toward you, a classic apology though the words may never leave his lips. And you accept reluctantly, taking his slender fingers in yours, letting him guide you up off the floor and into his arms. The familiar scent of his cedarwood and vanilla cologne surround you, and your hands find their way around his back, as he envelops you whole and puts your mind at ease again.

Perhaps you would never understand Hyunjin- the way his emotions clouded him to a point he could only funnel them through you, the way a 4-letter word scared him more than the act of cheating, or how certain shades of pink were too pink, and yet patched canvases were still beautifully flawed in his eyes. And maybe you didn’t have to, maybe simply existing alongside him like this was enough for the two of you. Your beautiful boy, who you once tried so hard to make sense of, now at the disposal of the world around him, and for that you despised him. But you prayed they would have mercy on him, prayed they’d understand him like you once had, understand that some pinks are too pink, and that love doesn’t imply end.

*

The night reaches its lowest temperature as you lie in bed, this time on one side as Hyunjin occupies what was once his side of the mattress. The sight of him is reminiscent of your old life- him facing you, arms crossed and legs extended carelessly, a hood tossed over his messy hair and a frown as he tries his best to fall asleep.

You chuckle seeing him like this, the dichotomy of his sexy features coupled with his cozy appearance, something you always found attractive in him.

“What are you thinking about?” Hyunjin whispers as he breaks the silence. A small smile forms on his lips at the sound of your muffled laugh.

“Nothing. You look so cozy.”

“I feel cozy,” he replies. He reaches a hand out to you, palm facing up, and you gently place your hand in his. His calloused fingers rub yours gently, and you can’t tell if he’s trying to fluster you or warm you up- either way, you like the sensation, silently hoping he doesn’t stop.

In a swift motion, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing little kisses to each of your knuckles. You don’t say anything to him, instead observing the way his eyelashes flutter with each movement of his lips.

“Hm,” he hums against your fingers. “Remind me why you left me again.”

You feel your heart sink; one question, and yet hundreds of answers at the same time. You have everything and nothing to say to him. You settle on silence.

“I asked you a question,” he says against your knuckles, and your heart races at the change in his tone.

“Because it was time,” you say.

Hyunjin lets go of your hand, resting an arm behind his head and shutting his eyes. After a moment of silence, he speaks again. “You have to understand how confused I was.”

Your hands miss his contact instantly. But he scares you when he's like this- on the brink of clarity, and yet not quite there yet. He’s so unpredictable, and you know very well this could end a million different ways.

“I know,” you say.

You left Hyunjin in possibly the worst way you could. There wasn’t a screaming match, or a composed adult conversation on the matter. In fact, there wasn’t much of anything at all.

Hyunjin had been distant that week, locking himself away in the spare room and working on several different paintings for his upcoming gallery show. You hadn’t fought- at least not that he remembers. You had sex twice that week, once on Tuesday and once on Wednesday. It was September. The air was cold and the space heater had busted again. Little details you never forgot about that time.

It was the box cutter that gave it away. Carelessly left on the counter, thin white threads still caught in the serrated edges. Like a murder weapon he couldn’t be bothered to wash the blood off of. And while he was out, you took the opportunity to sneak into the studio, finding his latest victim tossed aside like his first one. A watercolor painting of a bridge, hues of browns and blues melting together where a giant gash now impaled the scene. This one unsalvageable, unlike the others.

It was then that you made your decision. Not through confiding in Jisung like he accused you of, nor your family or friends. But there, in the studio, as you held the painting close to you and wept for its loss. He was never going to change. It had felt like a lifetime of patching canvases for him, trying to fix him like you did his art. But Hyunjin made up his mind the second he took a box cutter to his work. And he did it again, when he shut you out, and again at his refusal to utter 3 simple words in the span of your relationship. It was the crime of insanity that drove you to the edge- repeating the same thing over and over, hoping for a different outcome. One that would never come- one that you owed to yourself to stop chasing.

And so you left- you took a small box of your things, and you requested your close friends relay the message to him that things were over. Hyunjin didn’t fight it- of course he didn’t understand why, but there were enough theories to reaffirm that this wasn’t some epiphany rooted in pure delusion.

“I wish you had talked to me,” he says. His voice is trembling.

“I wish you had talked to me, too.” You reply. “I wish a lot of things had been different.”

“You had to have known,” Hyunjin says.

“Known what?”

“You had to have known that I loved you.”

You look over at him now, a straight expression on his face still. He keeps his eyes glued to the ceiling above him, and for a second you’re not sure if you heard him correctly. It’s not until you release the breath you’ve been holding that he finally looks down at you, giving a small shrug. He breaks the silence with a loud laugh, and you’re confused by his actions all over again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Hyunjin says. “Because I’ll always have you.”

“You won’t,” you reply through gritted teeth. “That’s why I left. You’re not a part of me anymore.”

“No?” Hyunjin says, shifting his body toward yours, a wicked smile on his face. “You don’t still yearn for answers I haven’t given you? You don’t still wonder how things could have been different?”

He reaches out a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and you melt into his touch. Your cheeks grow hot with his proximity now, and you scoot away just an inch, failing as he moves his whole body even closer to you.

“Look at you, you can’t even push me away properly. You’re mine, aren’t you?”

And without warning, his lips are on yours all over again, tongue dancing against yours as he adjusts himself to be positioned on top of you. You want to push him off of you, so badly, but your mind doesn’t let you, instead urging you to keep pressing your thighs together as overwhelming desire for him grows in your core.

“Hyune,” you say between his kisses, and a hand snakes around your waist, toying with the hem of your underwear.

“Say you don’t want this,” he says, pulling away to let you breathe. You stare into his eyes, now dark and pooling with intensity as he begins working kisses down your neck.

“Say it,” he says again, and you can’t.

You feel him smile against your throat, grazing his teeth gently over the skin before biting down harshly and earning a moan from your parted lips. His hands work their way into your underwear again, rubbing small circles against your clit as he pulls them down to your ankles.

“You’re this wet already?” He asks curiously.

Before you can process his words, your underwear and shorts are tossed off the bed, his hands wrapped around the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him. He sits up and observes your fucked-out expression before working little kisses and nibbles to your inner thighs, all the way up until he’s found your clit again.

“Please,” you beg, and he smiles. In slow movements, his tongue is pressed against your wet cunt, giving kitten licks to your clit as he rubs his nose along your folds. You gasp in pleasure, hands tangling in his hair as he lets out moans of his own that vibrate against your bundle of nerves. “Fuck,” you say, and Hyunjin loves every second of you losing it.

As he works you with his tongue, his other hand dips itself into your hole, filling you up and stretching you with two fingers.

“Fuck!” Ah- just like that,” you exclaim. “Please don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” he says against your wetness. “Until you cum for me.”

“I’m close,” you echo, tugging on his hair and applying more pleasure to your clit. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Let go, baby,” Hyunjin says. “Cum for me.”

You find your release at his words, making a mess of your sheets and dripping onto his stubbled chin. He’s quick to lap up your cum, painting your thighs with traces as he kisses back down your skin.

“Turn around,” he orders quickly, sliding his own pants and boxers down, freeing his painful erection against his abdomen. You do as you’re told, flipping over onto your stomach and gripping the sheets below you.

One hand works his length over you, dripping precum in anticipation, while the other snakes around your throat and holds you still for him.

“Did you miss this?” He says as he enters you, and you moan loudly at the sensation of his throbbing cock stretching you out. “Always so good for me. You haven’t changed. So obedient.”

You can’t say anything in response, panting heavily as he thrusts in and out of you, feeling yourself nearing another orgasm as his hand finds your aching clit once again.

“You’re mine, right?” Hyunjin says again. “You had to have known I loved you. Fuck, I love you so much. You’re all mine. You know it too, right?”

You still can’t talk, moments away from your second orgasm now, the only sounds emitting from between you are those of your wet arousal and slapping skin. You feel tears pricking your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure and racing thoughts, yet too aroused to form a coherent response to his words. The only sound that comes out is a sob, followed by your stream of tears as he grips your throat and fucks you harder.

“You’re crying,” he says, kissing tears up your cheek, but not slowing his pace. “You’re just an emotional wreck tonight, aren’t you? Me too, darling. You’re an extension of me, huh? I’m gonna come now, okay? I want you to finish with me.”

His hand moves to hold yours as he guides you through your second orgasm, filling you up with his hot load and fucking every last drop back into you. “That’s it,” he says, pulling out of you and kissing the remainder of your tears back up your face. “That’s my girl.”

*

At daybreak, the snowfall has stopped entirely, and the skyline is frosted beautifully in crystal white snow.

You’re the first to wake, Hyunjin still passed out beside you, a peaceful expression on his face as light snores escape his lips. It’s another sight familiar to you- Hyunjin’s innocent slumber the night after he’s used you so roughly.

Your legs tremble as you slip out from under the covers, making your way to the mirror where you take note of your disheveled appearance- your neck is painted with purplish bruises, eyes swollen from crying and hair tangled from being pulled. You envy the angelic way Hyunjin wakes after nights like these.

When you arrive in the kitchen, you start yourself a cup of coffee, slouching on the bar stool as you recall yesterday’s events. It hadn’t been a dream, but a strange turn of coincidences that led you to having sex with Hyunjin in your apartment. What was once a normal morning for you now felt more confusing and uncertain than it ever had before.

Your ringtone from across the room interrupts you, and you’re quick to answer to not wake Hyunjin.

“Hi Jisung,” you say quietly into the receiver.

“Hi! The snow’s stopped where you are, right? I just woke up and it seems to have finished here.”

“Yeah, it’s not snowing here either.”

“That’s good!” He says cheerfully. “I hope your night was okay.”

“Yeah,” you say plainly. “It was interesting.”

“Great! Do you still want to grab something to eat tonight?”

“Sure thing,” you say, desperate to end the call before Hyunjin can hear any part of it. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

And when you hang up, a familiar voice behind you is quick to make itself known. “You won’t go out with him tonight,” he says, making his way to the coffee maker to pour himself a mug. He’s so sure of himself, a small smile tugging at his lips as he works. Like he’s reading your future.

“Who are you to dictate that?” You retort.

Hyunjin smiles as he fills his mug, his shirtless back turned to you. “I know you,” he says simply.

“You don’t know anything,” you say to him through gritted teeth, quickly regretting what you’d done last night. You make your way back to the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed with your phone in hand as you watch Hyunjin pour milk into his coffee.

Jisung’s contact glows under your thumb as you fidget with the screen, pressing down on his name and then dragging away so that it won’t dial. You play the conversation in your end, debating what you could say to either him or Hyunjin to fix this- but your emotions are clouded with traces of yesterday, and nothing useful comes to mind.

As you weigh your options, you catch a glimpse of Hyunjin from the doorway, observing the way makes himself comfortable in the kitchen.

His box cutter tears through the previously sealed cardboard boxes, digging through his items for brushes and paints. He hums as he undoes all of yesterday’s efforts- confident, unwavering.

jury's still out | one-shot

pairing: hyunjin x f!reader | wc: 12k | genre: rivals to hooking up ; smut with plot |  general warnings: workplace rivalry ; only one bed ; hate sex ; mild violence (slapping) | explicit sexual content, this work is for adult audiences ; explicit warnings under the cut | Author compiles major/relevant warnings only. Reader discretion is advised.

Every Monday was more of the same—you checked your schedule which contained way too many meetings, and then you looked at the assigned cases for the week. And every single Monday, Hwang Hyunjin was assigned the best, most interesting case. 

*Installment of The Red Lights Chronicles

explicit warnings: slapping (m receiving) ; kinda dom!hyunjin ; mild/moderate degradation ; rough unprotected sex ; no aftercare — every act taking place is consensual. 

“You’ve got to be FUCKING kidding me! Him again?” 

You slammed your fist on your desk, causing a few drops from your coffee to spill over your cup and land on a file. With yet another grunt, you hurried to grab a tissue and try to prevent too much bleeding through the sheets. The intern in the cubicle next to yours shot a worried glance at you, swirling his chair to face you. Jeongin arrived here just last week, and your manager stuck him with you because you had ‘enough time’ to ‘show him the ropes.’

“Miss? Should I make another copy of those?” he asked, rising from his chair and motioning toward the file, which was in fact one of the files from a case you had just won. 

Jeongin was a nice boy, a good intern, but you just lacked the patience with interns, despite remembering being one not so long ago. You took a deep breath, making sure that none of the sheets had been ruined by coffee. “No, it’ll be fine. Thanks. Did you fill out the forms I asked you for today’s meeting?”

“Almost done, miss,” he said with a dip of the head, adjusting the thick black glasses over his nose. “Are you… alright?”

With a sigh, you turned to your screen again where you had been looking at the schedule for the week. Every Monday was more of the same—you checked your schedule which contained way too many meetings, and then you looked at the assigned cases for the week.

And every single Monday, Hwang Hyunjin was assigned the best, most interesting case. 

“Look at this shit, Jeongin. Tell me what’s wrong with this.” Maybe this would be the best way to prepare him for his life as a defense attorney—it would be best if he was fully informed about it. You had known this was a competitive line of work, but nobody had prepared to be faced with someone whose ego was as big as Hwang.

Jeongin leaned over the computer, reading the screen carefully. “Uh… Miss, I don’t know, I—”

“Look at the Kang/Seon case.” You even showed him the names, pointing your index at the screen. “Remember, we talked about this case yesterday?”

“Oh yeah, the conflict of interest case, right?” As though you were a literal teacher and him the student, Jeongin straightened up to describe the case that you had reviewed with him. “Mr. Kang was named executive director in Mr. Seon’s company, but that was deemed a conflict of interest due to Mr. Kang’s financial involvement in Seon’s old bank.”

You nodded. “That case can make a career, Yang. It can unmake it, too. But if Changbin assigned it to Hwang…”

With a sigh, you leaned back into your chair. Of course they would give that case to Hwang. The up-and-coming star, the handsome, conceited prick who went through law school on his parents’ money. God’s favorite. He always had it so easy. 

“Do you think it means Mr. Hwang will be up for the promotion you want, then?” Jeongin questioned, his eyes suddenly turning big and inquisitive. 

There was an ongoing rumor about a big promotion coming up among the junior associates, and it was the talk of the moment. Hell, some people were even betting on who would get it, and whether it came with a window office and a decent parking space. As in betting with money on it.

And, of course, like any other promotion, it would come with a significant raise in salary.

“If he wins,” you admitted reluctantly, “he’ll probably be promoted. Yes.” And this was not the first big case that Hyunjin was given in the past few months, which meant nothing good for you.

Your assigned intern clicked his tongue, shaking his head. You let silence fill the immediate area, but you could hear conversations in the distance and a lot of frantic typing on keyboards. You recognized the usual ambiance before the Monday morning meetings—everybody getting ready for it, reviewing their files, catching up on stuff with others if they had to.

“But what about you?” Jeongin questioned. “What case did they give you, miss? Is it a good one? What if it’s a case that could make your career, too?” 

You hadn’t even thought about it, too upset that you didn’t get the Kang/Seon case. You scrolled further on the page, looking for your name. 

“The fuck?” You read the line one, two, three times. “THE FUCK?”

The words Kang/Seon were also written next to your name. 

“But that’s great news!” Jeongin cheered, clapping his hands once as a sign of victory. “And two associates on the same case means it’s a lot more likely you will win the case!” 

You stared at your screen, speechless. Unbelievable. Absolutely fucking crazy, actually, that they’d have you work on a case with Hwang. Hwang was known for being just about the worst when it came to teamwork, preferring the lone-wolf kind of lifestyle. He was sort of famous for it, too. For winning cases on his own when they should have been handled by two attorneys. He took great pride in that, walking around with a self-satisfied grin on his pretty face when he came back from the courthouse.

Seeing that you had been assigned to that case should have been good news. It should have made you excited. Instead, you had to take a few deep breaths to calm down and not cry minutes before the meeting, or else your mascara would be ruined.

You being on this case with Hwang only meant one thing: he would shine because he was the favored one. And you would be invisible, no matter what.

Could it be revenge? Could it be that Changbin had heard about the job offer you got from another firm and that he simply wanted you gone? You hadn’t said a definitive no to the other firm because their offices were closer to your place. But you liked working here. Most of the time anyway. 

With a sigh, you grabbed your things, getting ready to make it to the conference room. “Let’s go to this meeting and get this over with.” 

“Just a note about the new paralegals—please let them do some of the work.” Your boss’ smile faltered slightly as he spoke. Changbin sat opposite from you at the large conference table, but was addressing everyone. “Let them do more research, something, anything. If management keeps thinking we don’t need them, they’ll cut my budget even more.” The declaration was received with a few faint chuckles around the table, but you could barely hear anything that was going on.

Click click. Click click. Click click. 

Click click. Click click.

Also sitting opposite of you but farther down the table was Hwang Hyunjin, always with that smug expression on his pretty face, fidgeting relentlessly with his retractable pen. Click click. Click click. Click click. He chuckled with the others at Changbin’s comment, his stupidly broad shoulders shaking with his frankly derisive laughter. You glared at him, crossing your arms over your chest and taking a few deep breaths. Click click. Click click. 

“Can you stop that?” The words blurted out of your mouth before you could stop them—not that you wanted to stop them anyway. “Can you stop?” 

Hyunjin raised a pair of amused eyes at you. He had the eyes of a doll, and perfect eyebrows, too. His nose was just as perfect, but everybody knew Hwang Hyunjin had the best pair of lips in the whole office. Including himself—he was very aware of the way he looked, and the effect he had on people.

He ran his fingers through his short, thick hair, and it fell back into place perfectly, as though he was freshly out of the hair salon. God’s favorite, truly. “Stop what?” he retorted, tilting his head to the side with a grin on his face. “I’m literally just sitting.”

You tsked him. “You know exactly. The pen. Please stop playing with it. We’re trying to work here.” 

Hyunjin smacked his pretty perfect lips together, observing you. Warmth spread all over your face—Changbin had stopped talking and all the attention was on you. Hyunjin had the kind of eyes that really studied people, too, and it always felt as though he could read them. You had once speculated that he could genuinely read minds, which had sent you into an immediate panic—you did not want him to know everything going through your head.

Hyunjin had another chuckle, more amused this time. His eyes, briefly, turned into crescents. “Well, I’m so very sorry ma’am for disturbing your peace. I shall cease this activity right this second. Ma’am.” With that sarcastic retort, he dramatically let go of the pen and placed it next to his unopened notebook. He always brought a notebook with him although he exclusively used his laptop to take notes, and you suspected the fancy leather-bound journal was just for show.

Ma’am?! You wanted nothing more than to insult him to his face and, for once, make him see that he was not the main character, despite him obviously feeling like he was. But the many pairs of eyes on you were more than enough to pacify you. You had been assigned a big case, and even though you were partnered up with that prick, you needed to be professional if you wanted any sort of positive outcome for yourself.

You cleared your throat, swallowing the fuck you that you so badly wanted to spit at Hyunjin. “Thank you so very much for your cooperation, sir. From the bottom of my heart. I profoundly enjoy being able to hear and focus on what my boss has to say, you see—just a stupid habit of mine. Sir.”

You sat straight in your chair, turning away from Hyunjin before you could even see what face he was making. Changbin seemed amused by the situation, concealing a laugh into a fist over his mouth. To his left, Felix, a senior associate, was also avoiding eye contact so as not to laugh openly. The interns show a little more restraint, but not by much. 

Changbin coughed, wiping a tear off the corner of his eye. “Okay, last order of business before someone ends up with a pen in their eye—the Kang/Seon case. Sir and Ma’am, I assume you know the basics of the case. What’s the angle here?” 

Thanks to Hyunjin’s annoyingly attractive nonchalance, you managed to speak before him.

“Well, it’s quite evident that there was a certain bias, so I think we should state that Mr. Kang took the job because of his involvement in the company, fully aware of the situation,” you replied. “To make it seem like he’s some sort of fanboy.”

Changbin took a few notes on his phone. “Interesting. Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin let out a snort.“Obviously, our best approach is to deny everything. It’s not like Kang doesn’t have several millions to invest—his financial involvement with Seon might appear significant to us, but in reality, it’s nothing for this guy. Who cares?” 

The audacity. Hyunjin stared at you from his chair, raising his eyebrows and shrugging with a stupid smile on his face. You chewed on your bottom lip, annoyed to no end. If looks could kill, you’d be staring at a dead body at this instant. It was as though you were in purgatory and Hyunjin had been sent to test you. He could not be more your exact opposite. 

“As we go into this case, you guys are gonna have to pretend like you consulted each other once in a while, okay?” Changbin commented, but he didn’t seem mad. A corner of his lips was curved into a half smile. “I actually like both of these angles, which doesn’t help anybody here. But since it’s our first case of the sort, I arranged for you two to meet with some of my friends from down south tomorrow. They’ve dealt with a lot of similar cases, and they agreed to lend a hand as a gesture of friendship for me. We met in law school, and they’re good people.” 

“Damn, I haven’t seen Chris and Ji in forever, I’m actually jealous!” Felix protested with a large smile on his bright face. “If I wasn’t so busy with the Nam case, I’d go along.” 

“Well, I need you on the Nam case,” Changbin pointed out. “Besides, I’m certain that these two can come to an agreement.” Your boss spoke directly to you and Hyunjin in alternance. “Don’t embarrass me. Hyunjin, don’t fucking play with your pens and shit. And you,” he added, turning to you, “work on your acting. It’d be great if you didn’t look like you’re about to commit murder during dinner, or worse—in front of the judge.” 

Oh, fantastic. You didn’t need psychic powers to know you were about to have an awful next couple of days. Maybe this really was a test, not necessarily from God, but from your boss. What if this was his way to verify your loyalty to the firm? By forcing you to work with your—and there really was no other way to put it—enemy? Maybe he thought that if you did stay after that, you were a solid attorney and human being, and worth investing in. 

Or maybe Changbin just really enjoyed watching you lose your temper. In which case he must have had a blast during the meeting.

“Wonderful,” Hyunjin said flatly, his large eyes on you. “I so cannot wait to work with you, ma’am.”

He had a death wish, didn’t he? He had to. Why else would he have such nerve? As though being pretty and tall gave him every right. 

“I’m so looking forward to this,” you replied with the exact same voice. “Sir.” 

Changbin gave the wooden table a gentle slap. “If you guys promise to behave, I’ll make sure you stay in a great hotel with a hot tub! Four stars and all!”

It literally did not matter the number of stars—you were going to hate this. Nothing that could possibly happen would make working with Hwang even a little bit more pleasant.

“Can you check again?” 

“I just checked three times, miss. I’m very sorry, but the only reservation I have in your name is for the one room.” The hotel receptionist gave you yet another contrite look. “Under the names Hwang Hyunjin and Y/LN Y/N.” 

You felt panic take over you, looking everywhere around you. The lobby of the hotel was impressive, as promised by Changbin. The whole hotel was furnished in a very modern style but with elegant ornate details. You knew one thing—you couldn’t afford to pay for a room here with your own money. Actually, you feared that if you did use your credit card here, your bank would assume that your card had been stolen and would block the transaction. You were still paying your student debt, after all, and avoided spending large sums of money.

Behind you, Hyunjin cleared his throat, approaching for the first time since you had attempted to check-in. He rolled his fancy suitcase along with him, leaning his arm over the lavish counter, looking as dapper as always despite being fresh off the train. “There’s been a mistake,” Hyunjin argued with poise and a seducing smile. “We’re not a couple. I believe the person who took the reservation must have misunderstood.”

The hotel employee stared at Hyunjin a little longer than she needed to. She glanced at her computer before looking up again. “I’m truly sorry, Mr. Hwang, but it seems the reservation was made online, and that the honeymoon suite has been specifically requested.”

Hyunjin closed his eyes, clicking his tongue and pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “You’ve got to be shitting me…” he cursed under his breath. “Are there two beds in the room?”

The employee blinked a few times. “It is the honeymoon suite, Mr. Hwang.” 

You stared behind you, where a line of a few other clients was starting to form, and they didn’t look particularly patient. “Can’t you just get another room?” you asked Hyunjin in a low voice, leaning closer to him. 

He looked appalled. “Why me? My name came first on the reservation, I think I should keep it.”

“That’s so fucking childish!” You let out an irritated sigh. “You and your fancy-ass suits can definitely afford a room!”

Hyunjin shook his head. “If you think I’m so fancy, why shouldn’t I get the good room? Get one of the basic ones, it’s just one night, who gives a shit?” 

The receptionist interrupted you before you could even reply to him. “I’m very sorry, but we are fully booked for the night—there are two conventions currently going on in the city. If I may—the honeymoon suite had been booked as of a few days ago, as there was a last-minute cancellation. I can only assume that whoever made the reservation for you did not have any other choice. I’m truly sorry, but as of right now, I cannot offer you another room.” 

Fucking great. You grunted, shoving your hand into the pocket of your jacket to retrieve your phone, unsure of what you even wanted to do. Maybe you wanted to look for another hotel—if they even had anything available nearby. Maybe you wanted to call Changbin. But then you caught a glimpse of what time it actually was.

“Shit, Hwang. We gotta sort this out, we have to be at dinner in an hour.” Changbin had also made a reservation in a restaurant right by the hotel. Unless he had somehow messed this up as well. “What do we do? I wanted to shower and get ready…”

Hyunjin grunted softly and turned to the receptionist again. “Can we please get the keycards? But I’ll make sure to get to the bottom of this.” 

The receptionist seemed relieved when she handed you your keycards. You and Hyunjin took off, walking at a quick pace toward the nearest elevator. 

“I’ll make sure to get to the bottom of this,” you said in a perfect imitation of Hyunjin just moments ago. “Is your middle name Karen or something, Hwang?”

“Oh, fuck you.” Hyunjin frantically pushed the elevator button, as if it would make it go any faster. “There’s no way Changbin actually booked the honeymoon suite for a business trip.”

“And yet he did.” The elevator made it to you with a ding. When the door slid open, you let people walk out of it, often shooting glances at your phone to look at the time. 

“I mean—yes, he booked it, but it was a prank. Against me. I’m willing to bet Minho is in on it.”

“The big boss? In on it?” You scoffed, walking into the elevator. “And you’re on a first-name basis with him?” 

Hyunjin shrugged. “We went for beers after I won the Jung vs. Kwon case a few months back. He’s pretty cool once you get to know him.”

You watched the numbers on the elevator screen as they went up. So Hyunjin was friendly with Mr. Lee himself. That wasn’t nothing—Mr. Lee had founded the firm along with Mr. Kim. 

God, so this was all a joke. The case, this partnership. It was a fucking joke—and you were a goddamn clown. There was no way Hwang wasn’t getting that promotion if he was an ass-kisser. Which, in hindsight, shouldn’t have surprised you nearly as much as it did.

“Minho is very meticulous, checks everything that goes on in the company. Obviously, Changbin would have needed to explain why he booked a honeymoon suite for this trip. They must have had a blast planning this. They like pranks.”

They like pranks, as though the three of them had shared a womb or something. “Ha. Ha. Ha. I’ve never seen anything that funny in my entire life.” You sighed, relieved to see the elevator had made it to your floor. “Whatever. Let’s just get ready for dinner. We should also talk about what we’re gonna tell these guys.”

You tried to keep up with him in the hallway, but Hyunjin’s long legs made him much more efficient at walking than you, and he was always several steps ahead.

“Talk? About what?”

Was he even for real? “About the fucking case, Hwang! What else?”

Hyunjin bit into his smile, pulling out his keycard from a pocket of his jeans and unlocking the door with it. “Why would we talk? Let’s present our angles to them. They’re the consultants. They’ll advise us. May the best attorney win.”

If you weren’t in such a hurry, you would actually open your mouth and reply with something witty. Instead, you simply followed him into the room and closed the door behind you.

The room was large and luxurious. The bedroom was separated from the rest of the room by a wall but it had no door, just an entrance to it. There was, however, a hot tub at the far end of the main room, right by the wide windows from which you could see the sunset. Everything was very clean, and very classy—exactly as promised by Changbin. Except that now that you were thinking about it, he had never explicitly promised two rooms… Prank or not, he would hear your thoughts on the matter as soon as this meeting was over. 

There was a couch on the opposite corner of the hot tub. Both you and Hyunjin were staring at it. “Maybe one of us could sleep on the couch,” you offered. Not that you would have been happy to spend a whole night in the same room as Hyunjin. 

“I guess it makes sense,” Hyunjin replied with a shrug. “We’ll have to write down our thoughts and cross-check our notes together after dinner anyway, it’ll be too late to find another hotel or something. Whatever, I don’t care.” If he did care, it didn’t show—the Hwang nonchalance was unmatched, as always.

You did a quick tour of the room—the bathroom was nice and spacious, with one of those really fancy showers that had all sorts of attachments and jets to them. When you returned, Hyunjin was on his way to the bedroom. 

“What are you doing?” 

Hyunjin didn’t even look behind him. He rolled his suitcase into the bedroom and removed his jacket before stretching his shoulders and neck. “What do you mean? I’m getting ready, same as you.”

“But why are you over there? In the bedroom? Aren’t you going to sleep on the couch?” Had he never heard of the concept of chivalry?

This time, Hyunjin did turn his head to look at you. He was squinting. “Why should I get the couch?”

“Because in books or in movies, dudes always offer to take the couch and they let the girl sleep in the bed!”

Hyunjin burst into laughter. “Oh my god, what’s next? Do I also need to put my jacket on your shoulders? Do I need to carry an umbrella for you?”

What an insufferable asshole. “Fuck you, Hwang. You know what? I’ll sleep on the couch because I’m not a spoiled brat like you.” 

“That has got to be the dumbest fucking thing I ever heard. Honest.” 

“Then you must not have heard yourself speak very often.” 

“Oh my god, just shut up.” With that, you left him by the door frame of his bedroom and went to the couch to take a few things out of your suitcase.

At least, the couch was excessively comfortable, and you also found a couple of clean blankets in a closet. You managed to find the cocktail dress you intended to wear for dinner as well as your accessories and shoes. While you were getting everything ready, Hyunjin went towards the bathroom.

At the last second, he dramatically slapped his forehead and swirled to face you. “Shit! I forgot! I was going to wash up, but maybe it’s required by law that I let you get the first shower since you’re a girl. Tell me—law school was forever ago—should I also lie on the tile so that you can use me as a shower mat? Are dudes required to do that?”

You very seriously considered throwing him the shoe that you were holding. “You’d like that too fucking much, Hwang.” 

He disappeared into the bathroom with a heartfelt laugh. You chuckled as well—at least, sometimes, his banter could be funny, no matter how annoying he was.

The restaurant was nice—it was actually a fancy cocktail bar right by the boardwalk, and it had a nice view of the sea, too. You made it in time for dinner, and met with Changbin’s friends—Chris and Jisung. 

Chris had a warm, dimpled smile and kind eyes. He laughed easily and made you comfortable immediately. Jisung was a little more introverted, but just as kind, and eager to know everything about your current case. Still, you ordered some drinks and appetizers to get to know each other. “Let’s drink and eat a lot, it’s all on Changbin’s card!” Chris pointed out, which caused the rest of you to laugh a little too much, but you and Hyunjin especially. Chris wasn’t wrong—maybe this would be your way to get back at your boss somehow. 

You focused on the case two drinks in. It was a business meeting but it unfolded more like a friendly discussion. Chris and Jisung were both knowledgeable on cases such as yours and they actually recounted many of them to you and Hyunjin. You took as many notes as you could on your phone and noticed that Hyunjin did the same. A pleasant surprise—you had imagined he was the kind of guy to be chatty but to get very little work done. However, he asked good questions and was even polite.

Maybe the drinks were doing him some good. He was certainly loosening up a little, as though his usual self was only a facade, or something exaggerated. That didn’t necessarily surprise you—maybe he was a little bit of a hypocrite, acting all cool and pretentious at work, but being just a regular guy in his personal life. Maybe he felt like he needed to have a strong personality to match his good looks.

You immediately connected with Chris, perhaps because he was sitting closest to you and had ordered the same meal as you. Damn, I have no choice but to order the same thing now, or else I’ll be wanting to eat off your plate! 

You took a lot of notes while waiting for the food, drinking another gin and lemonade. Jisung and Hyunjin were talking about their respective schools—despite not studying at the same university, they had had a professor in common and he was known to be just about the worst. Their anecdotes were funny and made you grateful that you had gone to the school you did.

Eventually, though, Chris slid his chair a little closer to you to strike up a conversation while the other two were reminiscing. He told you about his most successful case in another conflict of interest situation, except this time it had been about somebody being given personal information they perhaps shouldn’t have due to their bias. It was in a medical context too, which made everything even more interesting since you had briefly considered going into medical law.

“I can’t believe you won that one,” you admitted, impressed. You leaned back into your chair, raising your glass at Chris respectfully and taking a sip from it. “Good work.”

Chris was a humble guy. He made a dismissive motion of his hand. “It was an interesting case, that’s all—I don’t want you to think I told you all about it to brag! Soon enough, it’ll be you guys retelling the story of your case and how you won it because you found just the perfect angle.”

Without saying a word, you and Hyunjin looked at each other over the table. Yeah, the perfect angle… 

Jisung, however, didn’t skip a beat. “So how do you guys intend on approaching this anyway? What’s the plan?” He took a bite from his lemon chicken, looking at you, then Hyunjin, then you again. 

You took a sip from your drink, then another. For the first time since you had met him, Hyunjin seemed to have nothing to say, despite both Chris and Jisung waiting eagerly for more details.

You cleared your throat. “We, huh, disagree on the best course of action,” you admitted, and maybe you would have worded that differently if you were sober, but you were not sober. “Hwang thinks there is no conflict of interest, that there’s not even a case to be had. I, on the contrary, believe we shouldn’t shy away from it. If Kang appreciated the business over at Seon’s, he did, and that is all—who knows what proof of that the opposition has? I just think it’s too risky to pretend there’s nothing there. I’d rather go for the it was all in good faith angle.”

It was Chris and Jisung’s turn to exchange a quiet glance, but not for long—both of them laughed softly, shaking their heads and drinking more to wash down the food as they laughed. 

Hyunjin frowned, and you saw the arrogant prick in him make a grand return. “What’s so funny about it?” 

Chris, seeing that Hyunjin was upset, dipped his head politely, but his smile was just as wide as it had been. “Oh, no, no, it’s not like that, sorry!” he apologized with a wink for you. “It’s just that you guys are just like us.”

“We disagree all the time,” Jisung confirmed with a stern nod. “It’s frustrating as hell at first, but that means Changbin was right to put you two together on the same case. He’ll probably do it more in the future, too. Disagreements like these lead to better results—you’re unlikely to miss details if you keep working like that. It’s good.”

“It’s very good,” Chris added. “Unless the parties are too proud—then that makes things complicated… but you guys seem good, yeah?” 

It took every single atom of your being not to scoff derisively at Chris’ comment. Instead, you made yourself breathe and drink some more. You noticed from the corner of your eye that Hyunjin was doing the same thing. 

“I think they just want to have our opinion on it,” Jisung pointed out, elbowing Chris playfully. 

Chris nodded slowly, his smile turning softer, almost endeared, as he stared at the both of you. When his gaze fell on you, it lingered on your face but quickly trailed down to your mouth and then below your neck. You tensed up—it was impossible not to notice that he was checking you out—and blushed violently, but tried to conceal it by hiding your face behind your glass as you drank more and more. Chris was an excessively charming guy, funny, handsome, very intelligent. He talked a lot but he was also a good listener. 

You couldn’t deny that it flattered you that he was checking you out. 

“You guys are about to be disappointed,” Chris admitted with a chuckle. “Because—and I’m certain of it—Jisung would probably agree with Hyunjin. And me, I would agree with our lovely lady here. So I’m afraid we are not of much help.” 

Lovely lady. The red on your face turned crimson, and now your glass was empty so there was no concealing it. Chris dragged his tongue on his bottom lip, eyeing you carefully. 

“But you would have to agree though,” Hyunjin insisted, leaning over the table almost as though he wanted to grab Chris’ whole attention. “Like, at some point, you’d have to decide on something, right?” 

“We would, but it would take several hours of discussion and case study,” Jisung explained. “We’d have endless debates on it, and, after some time—a week, two weeks, a month even—one of us would admit that the other is right and that we have the better chance to win this case with this or that angle. But no stone would have been left unturned in the process of getting there, ensuring the better outcome.”

“Those cases take time,” Chris said. “It’s still too early to come to an agreement, but we’ll keep in touch.” He turned to you, pulling a business card from the inner pocket of his thin blazer, along with a pen. On the underside of the card, he quickly scribbled another number. “That’s my personal phone. Feel free to call or text at any time,” he added, handing you the card. He put it in your hand, his fingers gently caressing yours, sending shivers down your spine. 

For a minute, you imagined flirting back, you imagined finishing up dinner and going to the bar section to have a nice, intimate time with Chris. You’d ask him about his personal life and him about yours. Both of you single and too busy with work to really cultivate any sort of relationship. He’d make a point to touch you, a brush of the arm, maybe going as far as pushing your hair behind your ear. He might kiss you even, and you’d kiss him back, and invite him back to your hotel room. Except that your hotel room was the honeymoon suite which you shared with Mr. Asshole. Maybe Chris would ask you to come to his place, but he had mentioned he lived on the other side of the city, and you had an early train tomorrow morning…

You sighed, swallowing your short-lived fantasy of a steamy, passionate one-night stand with the handsome attorney. Instead, you made yourself smile, sliding the card in your purse. It felt strange not to, so you handed him one of your business cards in exchange for his. “Thank you so much, Chris. And—you guys have helped more than you think. It’s reassuring to know that divergence of opinions can actually be helpful. I think I’ll go back to the hotel—we’re leaving early tomorrow and there’s a lot of work to be done.” 

Chris stared at your lips for a few seconds. “Sure thing. You call me if you need anything, yeah?” He offered you one of those bright warm smiles. “It was a pleasure meeting you. Maybe we’ll work on a case together someday!”

You also said your goodbyes to Jisung who eagerly shook your hand, and then you walked away. Hyunjin could spend the entire night with them for all you cared, but all of a sudden, the realization that a fun night with Chris wouldn’t be possible had been too disappointing, and you didn’t want any of these guys to see it on you.

If she were here, your best friend would tell you that you had just self-sabotaged yourself, that there would have been nothing wrong with spending a little more time alone with Chris. She would remind you that you were a lonely, overworked woman and that you needed to get your shit together or else you would never find a partner. Not if you don’t let anyone in, she had told you some time ago. And maybe she was right—you did agree with her on that, but you didn’t want to think about this part of your life. Not now, not while you were just starting to work on your most important case so far in your short career as an attorney. 

The night was cooler than it had been earlier and you found yourself wishing that you had brought a jacket with you. Instead, you walked faster, hoping to catch the pedestrian signal before it turned off at the intersection—unfortunately, you didn’t make it in time and had to wait by the road leading you to your hotel. 

“Hey, hold up!” 

You let out a disgruntled sigh when you heard Hyunjin’s voice behind. Part of you had hoped that he would have stayed with the other guys for quite a while, leaving you some privacy. 

When the pedestrian signal came on again, you didn’t wait—you simply began crossing the street. Hyunjin caught up with you easily. “Damn, you really are in a hurry,” he pointed out, walking beside you. You hugged your arms, seeking some warmth, keeping your gaze on the hotel ahead of you. “You okay there?”

You swallowed. “I’m fine.” Then, imagining it was obvious that something was troubling you, you decided to add, “It’s just a little cool, that’s all.” 

Hyunjin did not hesitate. “Ah, that’s right. You’re a girl, I’m a boy and there are laws about that sort of thing. Hold on.” Before you knew it, Hyunjin had removed his blazer and carefully placed it on your shoulders. It warmed you up immediately—the fabric was warm from him, who seemed to keep a high body temperature most of the time. It also smelled nice, and you realized you had never paid much attention to Hyunjin’s smell before. “There, ma’am. I am at your service. What else might I do for you?”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, annoyed with his arrogant, sarcastic tone. You took the blazer off and handed it back to him. He held it over his shoulder with two fingers, exactly the way the male love interest would in a K-drama. You figured that Hyunjin must actually believe he was the main character in everyone’s life.

Hyunjin let one second pass, not more. “He really was shooting his shot, wasn’t he? Chris, I mean.” 

You shrugged as you made it to the sidewalk on the other side of the road. “Why do you care?”

It was Hyunjin’s turn to sigh. “Well, it wasn’t very professional of him to hit on you during a business meeting.”

You pressed your lips together, repressing a smile. “You’re just jealous because he agreed with my angle.”

“Jisung agreed with mine.” 

“But Chris is the senior.”

“Doesn’t mean shit to me,” Hyunjin retorted, now walking faster than you, as though he was racing you to the hotel. “Age is just a number.”

Despite his rapid walking, you caught up with Hyunjin in the hotel lobby as he stood by the elevators. Neither of you said a word as you waited. Your mind was fuzzy from the drinks, from the food, from the scent of Chris’ cologne lingering in your nose… no, that was Hyunjin’s. It was just the two of you in the elevator, and it was strong, smokey, and vaguely floral with sweet and amber undertones. It stuck to your skin, to your dress, all that from the two seconds it had been on your body. Breathing deeply didn’t help you at this moment, so you waited until you were back in the hallway to do so. It eased some of your tension, but it certainly didn’t make you any less tipsy than you were.

The room was just as you had left it. You quickly got out of your heels, relieving your feet, but were overcome with the need to wash up—would that scent follow you even after? Perhaps it wouldn’t, not if Hyunjin also washed up. 

You didn’t ask for permission and simply locked yourself in the bathroom. You tied your hair into a bun and got under the fancy shower, letting the warm water wash your worries away and, with them, Hyunjin’s scent. You felt a little better after despite being rather troubled still, and dried yourself before getting into more comfortable clothes—shorts and a tank top. Of course, you hadn’t planned on having to share the room with Hyunjin, but if he was indisposed by your outfit in any sort of way, he was welcome to look somewhere else. 

You found him sitting at the table with his laptop. He didn’t even glance at you but left for the bathroom when you sat with your own computer to clean up the notes you had taken over dinner. There were a lot of them and they were all messy, so it was best to do this right now before you forgot too much about your evening. 

You heard a text notification from your device while you were typing on your laptop but ignored it. Either it was Chris and that would disappoint you even further after your ruined night, or it was Changbin checking up on you to verify the potency of his prank, and despite him being your boss, you wouldn’t be able not to be rude. So you did not look at your notifications—to save yourself the trouble.

Hyunjin, much like you, had showered the evening away. He returned to the table in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. “I like to go to bed feeling clean,” he even told you, and you nodded in agreement while going over your notes. “Aren’t you cold though? There are robes in the bedroom if you’d like.”

You didn’t feel like hearing his relentless nagging. “I was only cold outside. I’m fine.” 

“We could fire up the hot tub,” he added. His tone was lighthearted and he was typing as he said it, so you knew he didn’t mean it and you just let it go. 

The next few minutes were quiet, only punctuated by the sounds of typing and the occasional sigh from either of you. You found that working alongside Hyunjin was not so awful when he didn’t talk. You also noticed his leather-bound notebook by his laptop—every page was filled with paragraphs of his tiny handwriting. It also contained several doodles, or rather, sketches. They weren’t bad at all. Flowers, a chair… you recognized the coffee machine on the second floor from the office. The back of a woman’s head and her shoulders… so he did use the notebook after all. Why only use it in private? You almost wanted to ask him, but figured it was none of your business anyway. All that you’d get would be a sarcastic, witty, and unpleasant response.

Sometimes, he would hum the melody of a song heard on the radio earlier at the restaurant, and his voice was pleasant, albeit a little distracting—you had just made a major breakthrough in your notetaking and were frantically typing before you could forget everything. 

Maybe Changbin had been right after all—well, not about the honeymoon suite—but about having them come here to meet Chris and Jisung. Maybe your and Hyunjin’s angles could be combined, maybe the true defense wasn’t so much in Kang’s motivations but in the actual wording of your debate and the logic behind it. It would require a lot more coaching of your witnesses to make sure they didn’t use the wrong words and tone during their testimony, but it could be done. 

“Hey, I—” you started, but as if on cue, Hyunjin was already pushing himself up and heading toward the mini fridge in the room. You watched as he opened it, stared at its contents for a few instants, and grabbed a handful of those miniature liquor bottles before returning to his laptop. “You gonna work drunk?”

He shrugged. “I’m already almost drunk.” He didn’t look too pleased, as though whatever he was looking at on his screen caused him some serious irritation. “It’s just a big case and I’m tired. And before you come for me, I know that liquor won’t help me be less tired or more focused, but it’s just what I want right now.” With this, he slid a couple of bottles toward you and opened one for himself. 

You twisted one Hennessy and drank a large gulp from it. It was crisp and cold and strangely refreshing. You took a second sip, savoring this one while you stared at Hyunjin at the other side of the table. He had never admitted to you that this case was difficult. In fact, he had never admitted that anything in his life ever caused him any kind of issues. You figured that his tipsy state must make him more inclined to say the truth.

“Want to look at my notes?” you suggested, and it was an honest offer.

He didn’t even look at you, slamming one empty whiskey on the table while scrolling on his laptop. “Don’t need to.”

You repressed a chuckle, although there was nothing humorous about the situation—after all, if Hyunjin struggled, it meant you would struggle at some point too. No matter how annoying he was, he was still assigned to the same case as you. “I think I found an angle, though.”

Hyunjin looked at you over his computer while he unscrewed another bottle. “What kinda angle?”

“Exactly the kinda angle that would be a compromise between your idea and mine.” 

You studied him while he tasted some spiced rum, his deep gaze, his traits so handsome that he didn’t look real. Perhaps this was why he had annoyed you from the very beginning. Literally, since you two had been hired on the same day. Because he looked too good to be real. Nobody should look like that, it was frustrating. No, infuriating. Those lips, too, and the way he wrapped them around the bottle to drink… 

God, I need to get my shit together. You straightened up into your chair, finishing your Hennessy in one last swig. “You think Changbin will pay for that?” you questioned with a frown. “I doubt that the hotel minibar was part of the deal…”

At this, though, Hyunjin did chuckle, almost choking on his bourbon. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “He better fucking pay up, I’ll tell you this. I’d love to see Seo Changbin—or even Lee Minho—try and charge me for it.” He burst into full-on laughter, and although you could recognize that it was a bit of a nervous chortle, you laughed with him.

“Yes, yes, of course. It’s not like they could fire you or anything. Since you’re like, besties with Minho.”

Hyunjin let his laugh die down and stared at you intently with just the hint of a squint. He drank bourbon and licked his lips dry. He scoffed for himself only.

“What’s so funny?” you inquired, keeping the empty bottle in your hand just in case you needed to throw it at him. And you would. You really would if he gave you a reason to.

“Nothing. I’m just trying to decide if you’re drunk or jealous.”

You grunted, wrapping your fingers a little more tightly around the bottle. If it weren’t for Hyunjin’s phone that rang, he would have gotten that empty Hennessy launched straight on that pretty face of his. 

It was a text message, which he read and put his phone back on the table with the screen down. For some reason that annoyed you to no end.

It might have been the Hennessy, it might have been the gin at the restaurant, or the fact that he looked annoyingly good and nonchalant, sprawled on his chair, with his long ass legs in these stupid fucking gray sweatpants—in any case, you couldn’t not say something. You didn’t even try to stay calm either. “Who the fuck is texting you at this hour of the night anyway? Is one of your several booty calls missing you or something?”

Hyunjin slammed the empty bourbon on the table just a centimeter next to the empty whiskey. He stood, and for a moment you thought he was just leaving for his bed, but instead he took a step toward you, resting his elbows on the table. He was close enough that you could smell the hotel’s fancy body wash on him and the liquor on his breath. “And that’s how I became a successful attorney? Because I have all this extra time to fuck as many girls as I want? You know what, I think you actually are jealous.” He leaned forward, a smirk painting itself on his full lips. “Do you think I have two, three girls on my cock every night, baby? Is that it? You want some of th—”

In your whole life, you had rarely experienced such whiplash as you did at that moment. You sprung to your feet, enraged. “BABY?” You let out a growl, pushing two fingers into his chest when he dared come any closer to you.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes with a click of his tongue. “Relax. Ma’am. The text was just Chris saying he’ll swing by tomorrow morning to talk about the case again… but he also asked why you ignored his text. I think the Aussie misses you already. You should call him, maybe he’s jerking off thinking about you as we speak.”

“You’re fucking classless, Hwang.” You nudged him away, but he barely moved. He just stared at you. And at your tits. “My eyes are up here, by the way.” You had to be drunk because there was no way you would be this bold if you weren’t. “I think you’re the jealous one here. Are you all pissy because he wants the same toy as you? Spoiled prick.” 

Hyunjin towered over you, his boozy breath caressing your face softly. “You call me a spoiled prick, but you’re the one acting all weird.”

“All weird? The fuck? You’re the weird one, talking about girls on your cock and shit. As if I cared about that? Or is that how you flirt with girls? You quite literally have the biggest ego I’ve ever fucking seen.”

This seemed to strike a chord. Hyunjin’s body language switched from annoyed to straight-up pissed off. He suddenly grabbed his crotch—really grabbed it, too—and spoke louder than you had ever heard him do. “Oh, you wanna see something big, baby?”

You slapped him. In the face. You weren’t able to control it—in fact, it felt as though you were witnessing something that you were not a part of, and yet you felt it, his skin underneath your hand. You had never seen him reach this level of cockiness before, and Hyunjin seemed to be able to bring out a very specific type of rage within you. Who did he think he was? 

And yet it shocked you just as much as it shocked him—you gasped loudly, retreating your hand immediately. Hyunjin frowned, reaching for his cheek where his skin was turning pink. He stared at you, dumbfounded, the silence in the room heavier than his gaze. You stared at him too. Back and forth, eyes dancing over the other. His lips. Your lips. Below your neck. His raw cheek. Below your neck again. His lips. Your lips. 

Hyunjin cocked his head to the side, his eyes unfocused, leaning rapidly closer to you. For a second, you thought he was about to retaliate, but something else entirely happened.

He put his large hands on your arms and pinned you to the wall to kiss you hard. It took your brain a second or two to process that—your back on the wall, the impact of it. The impact of his mouth on yours, devouring you, his lips warm and wet and eager. You kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck. His mouth tasted a lot like liquor and maybe a little like regret, but he was fucking yours with his tongue and it made you moan. 

He pulled away for a second and you could breathe again, your head falling back, exposing your neck to him. He buried his face there and you ran your fingers through his hair. It was silky, soft, it felt good to touch but not better than his mouth leaving scorching kisses all over your neck and exposed shoulders, nibbling at you, sucking your skin. That fucking mouth of his. Sassy, arrogant. Pretty. Leaving bite marks and hickeys all over you. 

Hyunjin grunted when you tried to pull him back up for more kisses. “Let me,” he protested, leaving a trail of spit on your throat. “I want Chris to see you like that tomorrow. Marked. Claimed.”

“You really are a prick,” you retorted, but you let go of his hair to slide your hands underneath Hyunjin’s shirt. His skin was hot to the touch. You pulled him closer, feeling him underneath your fingertips. His toned abdomen, his strong body. “I fucking hate you.”

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing personal,” Hyunjin said, still busy down your neck. He pushed you flush to the wall, leaving no space between your body and his, cupping your breasts in his big hands while his lips played with the skin on your throat. “I hate you just as much, but you look fuckable as hell. Just look at those tits.”

You bit your lip, repressing a whimper. Already, warmth was pooling at your core and you felt less and less strength in your legs. You held onto him, resting your forehead on his collarbone. Hyunjin pulled your tank top down, exposing you to him, allowing him to kiss you there too. He played with your nipples, swirling his tongue around them, lapping at them, sucking onto them, leaving them swollen and flushed. 

You found the waistband of his sweatpants and tugged at it, causing Hyunjin to moan while he squeezed your breasts, his hands too big for them almost, but agile nonetheless. In no time, you shoved your hand in his pants, cupping him—he was hard already, his cock straining against the fabric of his underwear. Your knees almost gave out as you palmed him, really taking in the feeling of him. His cock was big. Big enough to make your pussy throb. 

Hyunjin pressed his lips on yours again, groaning into your mouth while you were rubbing him over his boxers. Feeling him grinding onto your palm sent electricity throughout your entire body and it settled between your legs, becoming a distracting pressure. 

“You’re liking this huh? Baby?” Hyunjin smirked, rolling his hips, fucking himself onto your hand. “Can I call you baby? Or are you going to slap me again?”

You took his mouth, kissing him, squeezing his cock just a little too hard. Hyunjin bucked his hips, laying a hand flat on the wall behind you, his face flushed. For the first time ever, his hair was disheveled. It looked good on him, though. “Don’t pretend like you didn’t fucking like it,” you warned in between kisses. “Or I’ll just do it again and you’ll blow in my hand, right here, right now.” You weakly—and playfully—smacked his cheek. 

Hyunjin inhaled you, your hair, your neck. You smelled him too, pleased to realize that despite his shower, the scent of his cologne lingered faintly on his skin. “Fuck you. I’d bet you’re soaked right now.”

“And what do you want to bet, handsome?” 

You knew very well that he was right—you could feel yourself oozing into your shorts, you just wanted to see what he had in mind. 

Hyunjin thought about it for a few seconds while playing with your tits, making them bounce in his hands or flicking at your nipples gently. Each caress, each touch, made you dizzier than the last. You could feel the warmth emanating from your body, and you wondered if he could feel it, too. 

“If I touch your pussy right now and you’re wet, you let me cum inside you,” Hyunjin offered after considering his options. “Because then it just means I was right all along—you’re a fucking slut, no matter how hard you try to pass as a righteous bitch.” 

You let go of his cock but not without another strong squeeze, causing him to hiss almost painfully. “Do your thing, Hwang.” 

He snickered at you, wasting no time pushing your shorts to the side to feel you. His fingers found your soaked folds. He rubbed you, caressing you, coating his fingers with your slick. “Fucking hell…” he breathed. “No panties? You’re soaking into your shorts just like that? So I was right. You’re just a whore. You play hard to get but you leave the scent of your pussy everywhere you fucking go, don’t you?” 

Hard to get? “Fuck you, Hwang.” But he kissed you again, pulling you with him toward the bedroom. You took his t-shirt off him and he did the same with your shorts.

The back of his knees hit the mattress and you both collapsed onto the bed with you on top of him, not breaking the kiss once while you tried to tug his sweatpants off him. You’d show him. You’d show that prick how hard to get you were.

You finally got rid of his pants, freeing his erection. He had left the bedside lamps on, allowing you to see his beautiful, smooth cock, as pretty as the rest of him. It was heavy, too, and big. You wrapped your hand around it while you climbed onto Hyunjin proper, resting your knees on either side of him. 

“Told you it was big,” Hyunjin teased. “Can you even take it?” 

Your hand traveled down his shaft, his base, finding his tight, straining balls. You fondled them while Hyunjin caressed your bare thighs with his large hands, his thumbs always stopping closer and closer to your pussy. You tilted your head. “Maybe you should chill with the nagging. I’m literally holding you by the balls.” 

He shrugged. “Just raising concern for my colleague’s wellbeing.” He lifted his chin toward you. “Look at that pussy. So pretty and tight. I’ll fucking ravage you.”

Hyunjin used his knee to part your legs open, allowing him to see your glistening folds. He hissed, cupping you, rubbing your pussy with his palm, and pulling you in for another kiss. He was a good kisser. His mouth felt good so you relished just a little longer in the feeling of his languid kisses and his hand between your legs, teasing your clit and your hole. 

You lowered your body, properly straddling him now, both your hands on his perfectly defined abdomen, his cock resting against your throbbing pussy. Carefully, you took him in your hand again, loving the feeling of it there, too, and curious to see how it would feel inside you. You propped yourself up, wasting no time guiding Hyunjin’s cock toward your entrance.

He was handsome, especially in that moment, as you pushed his tip into you. You gasped and whimpered and moaned as you sank down onto his cock, adjusting to his size. “Oh fuck…” Hyunjin’s hands traveled all over your body—your waist, your thighs, your tits, still spilling out of your tank top. “Fuck—” 

He was bigger than your favorite dildo. Your breath hitching up, you kept sinking further down to take more and more of him, the stretch delightful. “Are you taking your time on purpose?” he sighed, sweat pearling on his forehead. “Fuck this, I’ll do it myself.” He slid his hands from your breasts to your hips, pushing you down, forcing you onto his cock. “Aaaahhh fuck, don’t clench so much—” 

You both came to a stop when he bottomed out. You bit into your lower lip, pleasure taking over you just from the way his cock filled you. You adjusted your weight on him, placing your hands on his torso to keep your balance, and slowly rolled your hips. 

It set you on fire. And him, too. You retreated a little, clenching involuntarily around his cock, and slammed onto him again, causing both of you to cry out. Again.

And again. You quickened up your pace, your movements made easier by how wet you were. Hyunjin grunted every time you rolled your hips, staring at the way his cock disappeared into you. “Fucking hell…” he managed, landing a gentle smack on your ass, not hard enough to sting. “You’re creaming me up real good.” 

You leaned down to kiss him, his throat, his pretty collarbones. What a fucking jerk. You filled the room with your moans as you fucked yourself onto him, using him the same way you would use an inanimate toy, taking as much of his cock as you could, your pace relentless. You bit him the same way he had done to you earlier, tugging at his hair to expose his throat for you. “See how I take it?” you panted, rutting on him as though you were in heat, seeking more and more of this. You had never been filled like this before—every second was pure bliss. “See how I take that big cock of yours, Hwang?” 

He looked unreal under you, your fist in his hair, hickeys all over his throat, his perfect body covered in sweat. He smirked at your remark and before you knew it, his hand found your face. He cupped it by your chin, pulling you closer until he was looking at you in the eyes. You were no longer in control. His slender fingers dug into your cheeks, but your brain did not register that sensation as painful. You clenched so hard around him that he growled. 

“You really take me like a cock-hungry slut.” He released your face only so that he could hold your waist and fuck you from below, pushing himself deeper and deeper. “Isn’t that what you are, huh? Don’t you love the way I stretch your tight cunt? I didn’t know you were so horny…” 

Hyunjin chuckled as he wrapped his arms around your body to roll you under him. You cried out when his large cock slipped out of your hole, humping into nothing. That cock was pure heroin. Addictive enough that you needed it. Again. 

But he wouldn’t hear you beg, no. You’d rather die than beg Hwang Hyunjin. 

“Look at you…” He was kneeling in between your legs, keeping them open for him. He reached for your pussy, caressing you very softly. “You’re all stretched, all puffy down there, baby… What a sight.” 

You rolled your hips to rub yourself against his hand, chasing your high. You could feel it—a pressure, a storm swirling deep within your core, your pussy throbbing for it. 

“Tut-tut, hold on. I said I was going to ravage you, but I want to play a little.” He grabbed one of the pillows and slid it underneath your lower back.

It took no time for the caresses on your cunt to start again, more insistent this time. He teased your hole with his skilled fingers, pushing two inside. The wet sound it made was lewd enough to make you clench hard on his digits. 

He laughed. “Cute.” He moved his fingers inside you, massaging your walls very precisely. He knew what he was doing—soon enough, he twisted his wrist and curled his fingers to hit that one spot. The pressure rose within you and you could feel your pulse in your cunt. “Now, listen—in a little while you’re gonna feel like you have to pee. Don’t panic. Just relax,” Hyunjin said, his voice low and calm, but all that you could do was lie there and stare at him, his hard, leaking cock, flushed dark. His panting chest, his hair sticking to his face. 

Hyunjin began finger-fucking you like a madman, pumping his fingers in and out of you, using his other hand to rub circles on your clit. Skin heating up, you held onto the sheets, to his arm, to yourself, but you were losing control. Every time Hyunjin pushed his fingers—now three—inside you, he hit the spot he needed to hit. Every. Single. Time. 

“HYUNJIN!” You felt it. The pressure, rising fast, too fast. 

Instead of pushing his fingers in and out of you now, Hyunjin pressed them on your g-spot, focusing there only, massaging you frantically. “Give it to me. Fucking give it to me, show me how much of a whore you are. Make a mess for me. I’ll give you my cock after. Come on, give it to me.” 

You tried to keep your eyes open but your eyelids fluttered too hard, and it felt as though your soul was ascending away from your body. The finger-fucking, the relentless rubbing on your clit, the lewd squelching sounds, Hyunjin’s smooth voice… 

You broke.

You felt it take over you. That storm, that heat. You arched into him and suddenly everything was very wet and the pressure was relieved immediately. You cried out, melting into the bed as you came, your walls fluttering, your mind blank. There was nothing except the waves of pleasure between your legs. Wet, warm. Hyunjin played with you until your breathing had returned almost to normal.

When you opened your eyes again, you found your thighs covered in your arousal. Hyunjin pulled his fingers out of your still-sensitive hole, bringing them to his lips to lick them clean. 

“Did I—” 

Hyunjin leaned over you to kiss you and you tasted yourself in his mouth. “You squirted like the pretty little slut you are, all over me, too,” he told you in between kisses. “Let’s see how you take my cock now that you’re fucked out.”

In just two seconds, you found yourself laying on your stomach, your ass propped up by the pillow on which your hips rested. Hyunjin pushed your legs open, rubbing his cock all over your soaked cunt. You whined into the mattress, using the last of your strength to look behind you. “Are you afraid to blow too fast or what? You know, some women consider premature ejaculation as a complim—” 

You couldn’t finish your sentence—with a grunt, Hyunjin pushed his hard cock inside you, slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust. You let out a cry, quivering under him. “Take me. That’s it. God, you’re so fucking wet…” Buried into you, Hyunjin fondled your tits, fucking you slowly at first, almost like he was getting used to it. “Like this? This is good?” 

“Yes, yes, don’t stop. Don’t stop!” He was too slow. He was stretching your pussy and you loved it. “Fuck me, come on!” 

You felt Hyunjin’s sweaty chest pressing itself onto your back as he forced his cock deeper within you. “Do you remember our little bet earlier?” he asked, whispering into your ear. “I’ll fill you real good. I’ll fill you so much that the other dude—the Australian—he’s gonna smell my cum on you tomorrow morning.” 

It spilled from your lips before you could stop it. “Please,” you breathed, trapped in between the mattress and Hyunjin’s body. His weight on you was heavenly. “Just fuck me. Just fuck me, Hwang.” 

And he fucked you.

He pounded into you, rolling his hips skillfully, taking up all the space within you. “That’s it, baby. You’re being such a good cocksleeve for me. Didn’t think you could take me like that. Suck on these for me, show me how you use that mouth.” He shoved a couple of his fingers into your mouth and you closed your lips around them. They tasted like sex, like your pussy. You moaned as you sucked off his digits, wishing he would let you do the same with his cock.

“Maybe once I get that office, you’ll have to come visit me there. Maybe I’ll make you kneel under my desk and I’ll fuck your throat just like I’m fucking you right now. Let those other guys smell my cock on your breath the rest of the day. You’d like that, huh?” He slammed into you again and again, frantically, desperately. “GOD, you are tight, don’t clench, don’t clench—” 

But you couldn’t help it. You could feel the pressure rising again, overstimulated from all of it, from Hyunjin pumping his cock so hard inside you that you were certain he would bruise you. From the sound of his voice tickling your ear, his hot breath on your skin, your sweaty bodies entangled together, the wet noises of your flesh colliding. 

Hyunjin fucked you into a sloppy, loud mess. You let out a series of staccato moans as he chased his high—he was so close that you could feel him twitch inside you—grabbing onto the sheets as though you could fall down the bed. “Oh god, that’s it—” he rasped, pulling his fingers from between your mouth to hold your waist, keeping you in place for him. “Take me, take me like that, take my cum—take all of it—” The rest of his sentence became inaudible as he lost himself in his bliss, burying his face into your hair.

His fucking became erratic, deeper, too, and you could feel yourself closer and closer to the edge. He was fucking you so hard that you were about to cum. “Don’t stop—don’t stop—don’t stop—” you panted, eyes rolling at the back of your head. You hated him for how easy it was for him to make you cum. Hated him for how fucking big his cock was, driving into you. You hated him for how good it felt, and how you loved the sensation of falling into a pit of lava, your entire body engulfed in wet heat. 

You clenched around him, and it was over for Hyunjin. He snapped, arching into you, moaning and whimpering, hips stuttering as he sprayed his thick cum into you, pulsing around your snug heat. He fucked himself onto you, fucking his cum deeper inside you in powerful thrusts. “There’s so much cum baby, can you feel it?” he panted. “Such a sweet cunt you have. Cum for me again. Milk me, come on.” 

But you were already cumming, dissolving into pleasure, into nothing, into the mattress. You came in a series of long, drawn-out moans, fluttering around his sensitive cock. He moaned with you, spilling the rest of his seed as you came, fucking you through your orgasm at a slow, languid pace, allowing you to really feel it. The waves of pleasure were strong, and they gently became ripples before they calmed down. 

Neither of you moved for what might have been an hour. It took a while before Hyunjin managed to prop himself onto his hands and remove himself off you—a large amount of cum dripped out when he pulled his softening cock out of your swollen pussy. He lay next to you, staring at the ceiling. 

“Bet you’ll still look fucked out tomorrow. I’m gonna text Chris and tell him to be here early,” Hyunjin said with a smile. 

The whole room smelled like sweat, like sex and you liked it in a deranged way. “You’re very competitive,” you pointed out, still wildly out of breath. “I wasn’t gonna sleep with him, you know?”

“I don’t care.” Hyunjin rolled on his side to look at you. His eyes, much like yours, were sleepy but content. His pretty cock was glistening, coated in cum—both yours and his. “You know what? Keep the bed. You made a mess in it anyway, squirting all over it like the pretty whore you are.” He giggled, struggling to keep his eyes open. And he stayed right there in the bed with you, taking most of the space on it. What a prick.

You managed to roll off the supporting pillow underneath you, feeling the damp sheets on your skin. If you could still walk, you’d at least try to clean up a little, but you were far from that.

“Fuck you.” 

“You just did that, baby.” He chuckled sleepily at his own joke, licking his lips. “Do we still hate each other by the way?” 

You giggled too, drifting off to sleep, sore, content, and full of cum. “Jury’s still out on that one, Hwang.”

a/n: just a little something for the Red Light Chronicles! I had fun writing about my cunty attorney. You guys take care!

permanent taglist: @abiaswreck ; @accalus ; @aimeexx ; @b4kuho3 ; @binstitsweat ; @casualtaelyn ; @cb97percent ; @changbinheart ; @chans1aptop ; @chartrucewhore ; @djeniryuu ; @dwaekkiracha ; @erispancakes ; @fwess ; @hanjingin ; @hwan-g ; @hyuneyeon ; @hyunfruits ; @hyunjinswifeee ; @hyunniethepooh ; @hyunsungbased ; @hyuwunjinie ; @hyyuniverse ; @iam2out ; @imseungminsgf ; @inkybird ; @jollchacho ; @katsukis1wife ; @lilbabiebunni ; @leedunno ; @lotus-dly ; @miraworldsstuff ; @moasworld ; @neosracha ; @revehosh ; @skzfelixlove ; @straydhampir ; @straykids5star ; @suhomylife ; @sunlitwilderness ; @thestarseeker ; @ven-fic-recs ; @yourmercibeaucoupsblog

Call me, baby

Hwang Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

♡ Genre - Smut, slow(ish) and then boom porn - Strangers to lovers (non-idol)

♡ Word Count: 7.6k

♡ Summary: Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing, where giving a beautiful stranger and eyebrow piercing can lead to the best fuck of your life.

♡ A/N: I started this as soon as photo's of Hyunjin with that damned eyebrow piercing came out. I am EXHAUSTED the horny took over, I'm ruined and now maybe you are too. 😭 I wanted to have this be a bit of a slow burn type of thing just so there could be some build up and longing ya know? I don't usually draw things out this long but I wanted to give it a shot. 💕Please enjoy it, I worked hard and I'd love to hear feedback. I also only lightly edited it for right now, I'll look over it again later! Gosh I'm exhausted. + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

♡ Warnings: Pain slut Hyunjin, Descriptive piercing process, Biting, Hair pulling, Appearances by Lee Know, unprotected sex (safe sex is good. be safe ya'll) Oral (f&m receiving), nipple play (kinda? & not for too long + reader has nipple piercings)

✧ Masterlist ✧

“Hey, man. Welcome to Rockstar tattoo and piercing whatcha lookin for tonight?” Minho, your ex and fellow co-owner of the shop asks as that familiar jingle rings through the empty shop. You’re too busy cleaning up your space to listen in on what the new customer wants. You’re sure that it’s something simple since it’s close to midnight and all that gets done this late are simple piercings and tattoos that people will regret in the morning.   

“Baby, you got a customer up front.” Minho calls as he makes his way over to his station. The name prompts a fake gag and an award winning eye roll as you move across your station

“Do not call me that, ew.” The echo of Minho’s chuckle makes him sound closer than he is as he rounds the corner of the wall dividing your spaces. You’re a two person crew so you get to spend every second that you’re in this shop with your ex which wouldn’t be so bad if he and his new girlfriend weren’t all over each other every chance that they got. You love the girl and they’re a much better match than the two of you ever were but it’s been so long since you’ve been with someone that you feel like they’re just teasing you at this point.

“You used to love that.” With folded arms he leans against your side of the wall and you turn to him with a hand on your hip while the other one is full of supplies.

“And I used to love you.” He hisses, holding a hand over his heart with faux pain in his eyes. 

“Ouch.” You throw an empty ink cap at him and you both laugh. “Well since you don’t love me I’ll be right back.” He walks over to the front desk, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair and heading out to the front of the shop.

“Where the hell are you going?” You whine, running up behind him. He turns to face you with that mischievous glint in his eyes. Does he really need to go get his dick wet right now? 

“Seriously, Min!” He laughs at your incredulous scoff as he throws on his jacket. “If I’m not back in an hour, close up for me, yeah?” With a quick wink and a smirk he rushes out of the door before you even have a chance to protest. You know that he’ll be back, he always comes back but you still want to give him a piece of your mind. You flip him off as you watch him pass the large front window and he kisses back at you. You love that you two had a clean break but god does he get on your nerves. 

“Asshole.” You mumble under your breath as you look down at the form on the counter. “Hyunjin?” 

You hear shuffling in the very far corner of the waiting area as you flip through his paperwork. 

“That’s me.” You smile down at the clipboard once you hear his voice, at least he’s not some rude wasted guy. “You can come with me.” 

When you look up your jaw nearly hits the counter, is beautiful even the right word to describe this man? You don’t usually have a type but if you had to pick one it would be the man standing right in front of you. “ Uh, hey my name’s Y/n, I’ll be piercing you tonight and it uh-”

Gosh, his eye contact is intense, how does he do that? “It says here that you wanna get a horizontal eyebrow piercing?”

“Right.” He shakes his head as he rocks back and forth on his heels and you nod. 

“Awesome, it should be pretty quick, let’s do this.” You unlock the swing door and allow him back into your station. You decide to close the privacy curtain that separates your space from the rest of the shop since the chances of anyone else coming in is close to zero, you’re not as accessible as the shops close to town so this is the quiet hour for you.

Hyunjin watches as you start collecting the supplies that you’ll need. You move carefully, making sure that everything is just how you like it. “Have you been doing this for a long time?” You hadn’t even noticed the way that he seems to be nearly looking over your shoulder this entire time.

“Long enough.” He smiles at your shy laugh as you pick a marker from your cup. “We’ve owned this place for about three years.” 

“You and your boyfriend?” You scowl at his words, pulling a chuckle from his chest. “I guess he’s not your boyfriend.”

“He’s my ex, we already bought this place when we broke up so I couldn’t escape him.” A dramatic sigh follows your statement as you motion for him to sit down on the chair in front of you. “We're friends now, best friends, but I am a single girl.”

Hyunjin cocks his brow, causing you to accidently draw a line across his eyelid. “Sorry about that.” He chuckles and you smile at the soft sound. 

“It’s alright.” You clean him up and the feeling of his gaze burning into you makes you smirk. You’re more than used to clients staring at you, there are some that will try to make an ungraceful pass at you while they’re at it but for some reason having Hyunjin stare at you so intensely is welcomed? Maybe because he’s cute. That definitely helps. “Ready?”

“Ready.” You mark him perfectly this time and point him towards the mirror to check if he likes the placement. “Perfect.”

“Awesome let’s stick ya then.” You motion him towards your reclined chair and he gracefully fills the spot with his tall frame. “You’re not scared of needles are you?”

“Not at all.” The smirk on his face as he stares up at the ceiling catches you off guard. You’ve never seen anyone smile at the thought of getting stabbed before. You wipe your hands and snap on your gloves before moving in front of your rolling tray where all of your supplies are set up. “Did it hurt when you got yours?”

“Nope, but that’s probably because I did it myself.” You grab your scissor clamp and move next to Hyunjin. “Okay, so, the steps are to clamp the site, pierce it, feed the jewelry through and then you’re out of here.”

“Sounds easy enough, go ahead.” You nod leaning over him gently. This is the first time in all of your years as a piercing artist that you’ve felt self conscious about the deep V cut of your shirt. You usually couldn’t care less but right now you’re almost hyper aware of the way that you’re presenting yourself to the man in front of you. You’re also hyper aware of the way that he’s staring right at the lacey red of your bra that’s peeking out, or is it the studs of your nipple piercing pressing against your tight cotton shirt that’s caught his attention? Either way, the way that he’s staring is causing something that you haven’t felt in awhile to stir deep in your stomach.

“Gonna clamp you now, it shouldn’t hurt but just take a deep breath anyway.” You whisper as you turn his head a bit to get a better look at the piercing site. Now he’s really got a good view. He’s perfectly still as you clamp him and you praise him for every little thing that he does right, he seems to take a liking to that since every time something sweet comes out of your mouth he hums with contentment. 

“Ready for the stick?”

“Go ahead.” He licks his lips while his gaze is still trained on your chest and you can’t help but to push your thighs together. He seemed to have noticed since a ghost of a smile adorned his lips right after. 

“Breath in.” He follows your instruction and you position the needle right at the mark only pushing a bit to prepare him. “And out.” He was an easy stick, it went in perfectly. It was smooth and quick and he definitely hissed a moan when you did it. You stay in place, leaning over him with the plastic needle still in. 

“Everything good?” The sound of his moan rang through your ears as you avoided eye contact with him. He hums a confirmation, his eyes are shut now and his bottom lip is between his teeth. Good god. Did he not notice or does he just not care? Does he have a thing for pain? “I’m going to uh- feed the jewelry through.” 

You move his head a bit, trying to find the best position for the light to hit him. Why is the lighting so shitty all of the sudden? “Everything alright?” There’s a slight chuckle in his voice and you sigh.

“Yeah I just can’t get a good light right now. It’s like my damn shadow moved in the way.” You move a bit back and forth but nothing is comfortable enough. “Can I like… could you just move your hip over a bit?” He does as you ask immediately and you swiftly prop your knee up on the chair. 

“Thanks, that's so much better.” You grab the jewelry, and wedge it into the plastic needle for the feed through. “You’ll feel a bit of pressure, it might sting okay?”

“Mmhmm.” Just as you’re about to move the needle you feel the soft brush of his fingers on your inner thigh. That had to be an accident right? Do you want it to be an accident? Not really.

“One, two, go.” You slowly feed the jewelry through and this time a soft grunt leaves his lips but that’s not all. You freeze when you feel it, glancing down at Hyunjin while his eyes are still closed and his fingers grip the flesh of your inner thigh. “Good?”

“Great.” It’s a miracle that you didn’t moan at the feeling of him grabbing you but you decide to thank whatever higher power saved you instead of thinking about what if’s. One thing’s clear though; he definitely has a thing for pain.

“Let me just -” You reach over to your rolling tray and his grip on your thigh loosens but he doesn’t let go. “- Just gotta put the ball on the end.” You secure his jewelry, screwing on the end and wiping it down with bactine. 

“Done.” He sighs but he doesn’t move. You look down at him, expecting him to say something, but he stays silent. You take a deep breath, trying to ignore the electricity that having his hand inches away from your heat is causing. “Wanna look at it?”

He nods, finally moving his hand, now maybe you can breathe normally. You both move at the same time but he sits up much slower than expected. “Feeling good?” Hyunjin hums as he adjusts his pants and makes his way over to the mirror, leaning in to get a good look at the new accessory. 

“So good.” Yup, he has a pain kink. It’s confirmed.

Once you’ve cleaned up all the immediate things and rid yourself of your gloves you move over towards him slowly. Usually you’d make small talk but you don’t feel too capable of doing that with the way that your core is pulsing with need at the moment. 

You watch as he studies the piercing. You should be looking at it too but you can’t focus on anything but the sharp beauty of his features and the way that his wine red hair falls against his temples and compliments the blush running up his neck. As much as you try to stop yourself you can’t help but indulge in taking him in further. You can’t help but to let your gaze run down the length of his strong arm and admire the way that his black sweats are hanging from his hips. Your eyes linger on the hem of his pants for a second too long and that’s when you notice it. Right below the perfect bow of his drawstrings is a delicious bulge that you desperately want to show attention to. Your tongue darts out, licking at the corner of your mouth a bit as you eye him. Snap out of it, come on.

“Think I should get a tattoo there?” Your eyes snap to his reflection but he’s already looking at you. Fuck, did he catch you staring? Of course he did, it was so obvious. “I’ve been thinking about it.” 

His smile makes you feel like you could explode at any second but you decide to try a bit harder to contain yourself. “I think that could be hot.” Fuck, no no no, why did you say that.

“Hot? You think so?” He cocks his eyebrow just like he did earlier but this time the gold stud adorning his thick brow makes a shiver run up your spine and sends a spark to your clit. He was already hot without the piercing but now it’s just unfair.

“Uh yeah, I do.” Before you can try to turn around and make your escape from further embarrassing yourself he turns to you. 

“Would you do it?” His eyes are focused on yours and for some reason you can’t find it in you to look away. 

“Do…your hip tattoo?” He nods and you shift your weight as you imagine the process. Could you even stand to be that close to his dick? You’re standing in front of him right now and you feel like you could combust from the eye contact. Surely you’ll melt if you end up having to stare at his hard dick for hours while he gets off on the pain of your needle for a second time. 

“I would.” Your answer leaves your lips in a half whisper before you can even think about it but the smile that pulls at his lips makes you forget your prior argument. “Just let me know when.”

“Do you have a card?” 

“Up front, I’ll give it to you with your care instructions.” You find yourself glancing down one more time before attempting to blink away all of your horny thoughts. As much as you want to fall to your knees and relieve him of his pain induced hard on you have to keep it professional, even if you were just caught staring at his dick print. “You paid when you came in, right?”

Quickly, you make your way around him to open your curtain and lead him to the counter. “Yeah I did.” You can feel him close behind you as you unlock the swing door to let him out.

“But you did such a great job.” The slam of the small door behind him makes you jump a bit but his following question is what really did it. “Do you take tips? Or could I give you more than that?”

You choke a bit on your inhale but at the same time there couldn’t possibly be a hint of oxygen left in your body with the way that he’s looking at you with his arms crossed and leaning on the counter. Your brain isn’t working anymore, it’s completely smooth as you stare back at Hyunjin’s cool smile. Hell, if he’s offering you’re going to take it.

Just as you’re about to calculate your own suggestive reply that familiar jingle echoes off the walls and your gaze lands on none-other than your godforsaken ex. He eyes you as you stand behind the counter with red cheeks and your palms spread and pressing into the desk. 

“All good?” He looks between you and Hyunjin with raised brows. You force a smile as you frantically scan the desk for the care instruction packet. 

“Yup, all good.” The sigh that follows your sentence is less than convincing but Minho lets it slide in the name of trusting you. You turn your attention back to Hyunjin who’s eyes were already on you. “So here are the care instructions. Don’t change it for about two months and uh, just make sure to keep it clean and um yeah everything that you need to know is in here.”

He takes the packet, brushing his fingers against yours in the process. Hopefully the way that you shivered wasn’t too obvious. Are you really that down bad? Usually you’re witty and flirty, you tend to have a pretty smart mouth with customers but as soon as you saw Hyunjin all of that went right out the window. 

“Your card.” He nods towards the display on the desk and you quickly grab one for him.

“It has the shop number and my instagram on there. If you want to contact me directly, Instagram is the best way to do it but I’m here almost everyday. If I’m not coming in, I'll post it on my story.” He flips the card between his fingers allowing you to get a good look at what you wish were still grabbing at the tender flesh of your thighs. Your focus breaks when he rubs the card between his fingers and a second one falls to the counter. “Oh, must’ve given you two by accident.”

“So I’ll message you.” Standing straight he slips the card into his pocket. “If I have any questions.” He takes a step back, taking you in one more time. 

“Yeah, I’ll answer as fast as I can.” 

“Baby, did you use the last of the caps?” Minho calls from the storage room and the scoff that follows makes Hyunjin laugh. 

“Stop calling me that for goodness sake.” With the flash of a quick smile and mumbled goodnight you leave Hyunjin at the front and head over to your annoying cock blocking ex. Once you get to him you see him leaning against the storage room door with his eyes on his phone screen. “I thought you were looking for caps.”

“Nah, figured that you needed me to save you. That guy should’ve been gone already.” Did he seriously just ruin any chance that you had at getting laid tonight? And by a man as hot as Hyunjin at that. 

“We were talking.”

“You don’t do small talk.” Minho’s pinched brows earns him an eye roll as you head over to your station. “So he wasn’t bothering you?”

“Far from it.” The way that you’re aggressively cleaning your tray gives Minho all the hints he needs but it would be out of character for him to just drop the topic.  

"Then what was he doing?" Minho asks in his teasing tone that you’ve grown to be more than familiar with. You pause and sigh as your mind lingers on the feel of Hyunjin’s fingers gripping you and the sounds he made with each hint of pain. 

"He was trying to make me interested." 

“Was it working?” The silence that followed his question spoke louder than any words could. “His number is on the form ya know.”

“Just lock up, Minho. I’m not breaking any privacy laws just so I can get fucked.” He throws his hands up in surrender, backing away and heading to the front. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath to try and contain the many emotions running through you. You should’ve been on your game tonight but Hyunjin just threw you off. You haven’t been that attracted to anyone in so long that all of your skills went right out the window as soon as he looked at you. Maybe he’ll message you? Ask you a question or two and then ask you out. What if he doesn’t? What if Minho scared him off and you never hear from him again?

“Baby.” 

“Lee Minho, stop calling me -” You pause when you turn to him, looking down at the card he’s offering you between his fingers. “What?” He extends his arm to you further, earning his third eye roll of the day as you snatch the cardstock away from him.

“It’s my card.” You shrug at him.

“Turn it over.” Your pulse picks up a bit once you notice the red ink on the back of the card. Hyunjin’s name and number is written in pretty symbols right across the middle with a small note. ‘Call me, baby.’

“I’ll stop calling you that now.” 

Sleep didn't come easy last night but you sure did at the thought of Hyunjin. It doesn't help that you texted him immediately and he didn't waste a second before replying to you. Your night was spent getting to know him a bit as your mind danced on the idea of him fucking you into your mattress. The amount of time that you pretended that your fingers were his slender ones while you answered one of his questions is actually award winning. The taping of your cum covered fingers against your screen went on until you tired yourself out and fell asleep while waiting for his next text. 

“Going out.” Minho looked up from the sketch book in front of him just in time to watch as you grabbed your jacket from the chair next to his. 

“Did ‘baby’ call?” For the first time in a while you find yourself smiling and unbothered by his teasing. “She's smiling, did you finally catch a dick.”

“I'll let you know in a couple of hours.” The look on Minho’s face isn't one that you see often but it's your absolute favorite. “I'll be back, baby.”

You barely got to knock twice before the door to Hyunjin’s apartment swung open. He looks just as good if not better than he did last night and the fact that you’ve gotten to know him a bit better over text for the past couple of hours makes you feel like a college student sneaking into someone's dorm after curfew. It’s safe to say that you have a big fat crush now.

“Hey, nice piercing.” He pulls you into a quick hug before ushering you further into his place. Your eyes wander across his walls, taking in every detail. He really is the artsy type. 

“Thanks, some girl did it for me last night.” He watches you take in his space with hungry eyes, no matter how much he tells himself that he just met you and that he wants to take it slow he can’t seem to pace himself. The amount of times that he came into his fist last night just thinking of how pretty your nipple piercings must be and how your thighs would wrap perfectly around him is insane. Unfortunately, the orgasms didn’t put out the fire that burned for you deep in his stomach, it only made the flame bigger.

“Oh yeah?” You face him as you peel your jacket off slowly, letting it slide off of your shoulders and down your arms so gracefully that he couldn’t possibly ignore it. “Was she hot?”

His eyes fix on the fabric stretching tight against your chest, how dare you call that a shirt. It’s keeping little to nothing to the imagination but he can’t say that he’s mad at it. “So fucking hot, I couldn’t stop staring at her.”

Your jacket finds a home on the arm of his couch while you check out the paintings on his living room wall. The stretched canvas and sheets of beautifully stained paper are littered all over the ivory wall, serving as the only real means of decoration in this area of the room. “Do you think that she noticed?”

The energy around you turns electric as he steps up behind you, just close enough not to touch you. “I hope that she did.” 

“Why?” Your breathing is slow and shallow as your eyes run across the colors of the paintings on the wall. You’re not really taking in the beauty of the art anymore, you’re more concerned with the masterpiece standing behind you and what he’ll say next.

“So that she doesn’t feel surprised when I say -” He leans into you, fiddling with one of the paintings and pressing himself lightly into your back. A blistering heat washes over you at the feel of him against you. It’s so much more than you imagined it to be. “- That I think that she’s beautiful.”

He reaches for another painting, stepping forward just a bit to be closer to you. “And that as much as I want to take it slow and get to know her -” He slowly retracts his hand, stepping back and breaking all contact. You sigh, swallowing hard as you hang on each of his words. “I just can’t go another second without knowing what she feels like.”

You turn your head to the side, catching a glimpse of his burning gaze as he stares down at you. His dark eyes are undressing you before he even gets the chance to touch you. Something like you did to him yesterday. “I think that she’d feel the same way.” It’s a bit of a challenge but you manage to hold eye contact with him as you turn your body to face him.

“You think she’d let me touch her?” Eyes, lips, chest and repeat. That’s the pattern that his gaze follows while he waits for your answer. 

“I think she wants you to, so so badly.” His eyes meet yours and his hands are on you in an instant, grabbing at the plush of your waist and pushing you against the wall of art work behind you. 

“Thank god.” He whispers against your lips before attaching them in desperate hunger. The sound of paper and canvas falling to the floor is merely background noise in the heat of the moment.

He’s soft and sweet like honey, his touch is like satin against your skin and your head is fuzzy. Holy fuck. He swallows the moan that escapes you as you welcome his tongue into your mouth, offering his own sinful sounds as a counter. His hands are grabbing at the exposed skin of your stomach while he pushes your shirt up to expose more of you. Your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, you want him closer. You need him closer. He pulls away abruptly, staring down at you panting and flushed. He takes a step back and you take a step forward. 

“Think she’ll let me fuck her?” He continues to step back from you and you match each move that he makes. Your hands find the bottom hem of your shirt and you pull the fabric over your head, revealing your flimsy lace bra to him. A hiss falls from his lips as he falls back into his couch. Sitting with his legs spread and ready for you, the perfect seat. 

“You better fuck her.” Once you climb onto his lap his lips are back on yours in an instant. The kiss is hungry, desirous, passionate. It’s everything that you knew it would be and more. His palms rest on your breasts, kneading the flesh and flicking at the heart studs of your nipple piercings. A shiver runs over you at the feeling and Hyunjin smiles against you at the reaction.

“Sensitive?” He mumbles, following with a kiss and you nod with a deep moan. “Fuck.” He pushes your breast together, jiggling them in his palms while he watches with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

“I wanted to see these so badly last night.” You knew he was staring. “Wanted to run my tongue over these pretty little studs.” 

“What’s stopping you now?” You grind your hips into him, milking a choked moan from his throat. He’s so hard underneath you, his sweat pants are doing little to restrain his pulsing cock from pressing into your needy core but even that bit of pressure is not enough to satiate your hunger. His fingers peel down the lace of your bra and you watch as his tongue dips out of his mouth and swirls the silver jewelry. “Hyunjin.” 

He hums, content with the way that his name sounds falling from your pretty lips, it’s then that you remember last night. Praise and pain, those are his things right? Let’s test it out.

The feeling of his tongue laving over your sensitive peak breaks you out of your thoughts and fogs your mind all over again. He shows both of your breasts equal attention, wetting your nipples with long drags of his tongue followed by a skillful swirl of the muscle around your shiny silver bars. “ So good, oh my god.” He hums, sucking a bit harder at the sound of your sweet words. 

Your fingers lace through the wine red strands of his hair, scratching and rubbing at his scalp for a bit until he grazes his teeth over the sensitive peak of your nipple. You’re pulling at his roots before you can even process it but the pornographic moan that escapes him as he falls into your touch makes you happy that you did it.

“A pain slut?” Matching smirks paint your faces but his is quickly swept away when you bring your other hand up through his roots and pull again. “I knew it.” You grind into him, the moans escaping him are making you hungry for friction all over again. 

His hands grasp your hips, gripping you so tightly that you’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there in the morning. “What gave me away?” His eyes stay on yours as you hold his head back by his hair. Yesterday his gaze was blinding but tonight you find it easier to handle the heat that it causes to rise on the surface of your skin. You’re okay with going blind if he’s the last thing that you see. 

“Hm.” His eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your lips ghosting over his pulse “Maybe it was the way you moaned when I stuck you.” Sloppy kisses and small nibbles of his milky flesh draws a moan similar to the one that’s been playing in your head all night to leave his blushed lips.

“Or the way that you grabbed my thigh.” Your teeth sink into the flesh of his neck and the sound that he makes in response is nearly enough to make you cum on the spot. “Or how hard you were when I was finished.”

“Do that again.” So biting is his favorite, huh? 

“Say please.” 

“Please, do that again. Bite me, harder. Please let me feel that again.” He’s begging? You’ve never been with a man who was willing to do that. A mumbled praise makes his cock twitch against you as one of his hands slips down to your ass, gripping the cheek firmly but not squeezing. Your teeth sink into his neck again, a deep guttural groan escapes him while his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your ass through your jeans. “Oh, baby.”

You pull away at the feeling of a warm spot beneath you. When you look down at your clothed cores the sticky wet spot presents itself to you. He came just from you biting him and he's still hard. No fucking way.

“You made a mess.” A familiar darkness falls upon his gaze and now it's your turn to moan from the grip he has on your hair. “Clean it up for me, angel.”

You crawl backwards off of his lap, lowering down onto your knees as his grip in your hair ensures that your eyes stay on his. He shimmies his pants down with his free hand, your eye contact falters for just a second so that you can steal a glance at his cock. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be, long and curved ever so slightly. The angry red tip is glistening with cum in the low light, you run your tongue along your lips at the thought of sucking him clean. 

“One day you’ll give me a pretty tattoo right here, won’t you?” He pulls your hair towards him, controlling your head so that you lean into his hip. You plant a sloppy kiss against his skin, nipping and licking like a desperate puppy. His cock twitches at the feel of your lips on the newly discovered patch of skin. “I’ll be hard as a rock with your pretty face so close to my cock.” He moves your head over just enough for you to lick up some of the cum from his flawless thigh. 

“You think you could do it? Think you could be that close to my cock and not put me in your mouth?” Little does he know that you’ve already thought about it and the answer is no. Hell no, absolutely not. “Maybe it would be me who loses control.”

He yanks back on your hair, lifting your head back up to meet his gaze. He brings his bent pointer finger to your chin and runs his thumb down your swollen lips. “I have a feeling that I’ll be addicted to this mouth.” His eyebrow piercing catches the light as he stares down at you and you can’t help but to feel turned on by the fact that you did that to him. You’re responsible for that pretty stud on this pretty man. 

“Let’s see if I’m right.” You open your mouth eagerly once he sits back and guides you over to his waiting cock. A hiss escapes him once you take him to the hilt, swallowing around him with watery eyes. He marvels at the way your pretty lips stretch around him, taking every single inch of him until his tip makes your throat bulge and your mouth water. You bob your head, licking and sucking him clean. The taste of his cum is so sweet, so perfect, maybe you’re just insanely horny or maybe he’s your new favorite candy. The only thing you’ll have a craving for from this point on. 

“That throat is taking me so well.” The vibration of your hum makes Hyunjin bite his lip as he watches you. You bring your hands up to his naked thighs and claw your nails lightly down the exposed skin. His cock twitches in your mouth and your pussy throbs at the feeling of it. You’re a big fan of foreplay, it’s super important and fun and everything but you would do anything to skip all of this and simply feel Hyunjin’s cock sink into your dripping pussy. “This is what you wanted yesterday isn’t it? This is what you wanted when you were staring at my dick?”

The deep rasp of his voice as he asks such filthy questions makes you press your thighs together, Hyunjin moves his foot in between your knees. Kicking your legs apart and taking away the relief you were chasing.

“Need me now?” Your desperate gaze up at him is all the answer that he needs. He lets go of your hair and you slowly come up off of his cock, swirling your tongue around the tip a bit and releasing him with a string of spit still connecting you. He offers you his hand to help you up off of your knees before dropping to his own right in front of you. 

With a burning gaze on your naked stomach he unbuttons your jeans and slowly drags them over the curve of your hips. His eyes scan every inch of newly exposed skin, leaving sweet soft kisses against the silky skin of your thighs. He takes a deep breath before pulling your panties down, his hands lingering against your bare skin as he admires your body. He leans in and places a soft kiss against your exposed center once you step out of your panties. What was supposed to be a simple kiss turned into a few kitten licks against your clit which then quickly evolved into long drags of his tongue through your folds while he palms your ass. 

“Hyun- Hyunjin holy fuck.” Your fingers thread into his dark strands again, lightly pulling at his roots and milking moans from him. “Please fuck me. Please just fuck me I want to feel you.”

“Gotta get you ready.” He spits onto your clit, watching it drip down your lips a bit before catching with his tongue and spreading it over your folds. “I need my girl dripping around my cock.”

His lips wrap around your clit and you throw your head back in a silent scream before looking down at him. His eyes are closed as he laps at your pussy, sucking and licking like his life depends on it. You admire the shimmer of his fresh piercing as you watch him, pathetic whimpers falling from you as he dangles your orgasm in front of your face. You’ve been thinking about him for hours and now you’ve finally got him. You get to cum on his tongue and watch him slurp up every drip of your essence.

“I’m gonna cum, oh my god.” Your grip on his hair tightens and he hisses against you. He swirls his skilled tongue around your swollen clit a couple of times and you can feel the blistering heat setting all over your body. You’re so close, it’s so good and then he pulls away.

“Hyun-” Your whine is cut off by the soft yet aggressive feeling of his lips on yours.

“I want you to cum on my cock.” The taste of your pussy on his tongue distracts you from the feeling of him guiding you to the couch. He pushes you down, watching you with a smirk as he pushes his damp hair out of his face. You watch as he pulls his shirt over his head, balling it up and using it to dap at the sweat on his forehead before throwing it to the side with the rest of your clothes. “Do me a favor.”

His fingers dig into your plush waist as he positions you. He props his knee on the soft cushion,  lining himself up with your entrance and teasing your sopping folds with his leaky tip. “Anything.” You fist the pillow right above you, placing it under your head to get a bit more comfortable. 

“Call me baby.” He slips into you before you can even reply to him, stretching you out so deliciously and filling up your gushing pussy until his tip kisses your cervix. The moan that echoes through his apartment is high pitched and airy, your lungs burn from the electricity charged air as you cry out for him, gripping at the couch cushions as you try to ground yourself.

“Baby.” The first time that his hips snap into you his jaw clenches and his eyes roll to the back of his head. His imagination barely did you justice last night, his fist is nothing compared to the way that your pussy is clenching around him. The ungodly squelches of his cock plunging into you sends shivers down his spine. 

“Fuck, you’re heaven.” He coos, the rasp in his voice makes your pussy clench around him as he presses your thighs back towards your chest. Hyunjin picks up the pace, snapping into you with unholy force. 

It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything but your own fingers and it’s been even longer since you’ve been fucked this good. Not even Minho can top this and he was the best fuck you ever had. The mascara stained tears running down your cheeks translates all of that to Hyunjin without you having to say a word, it’s not like you could say anything but his name even if you wanted to. Your orgasm creeps up on you again, dangling in front of you like bait for a fish.

“Hyun - Hyunjin please don’t stop. Gonna cum gonna -” You cry out as he slams into you, filling you to the hilt and staying as still as possible. “Please please, ‘s so close please.”

“Not yet, baby.” he beckons you with two fingers, motioning for you to sit up. He helps you up, shifting your position so that you’re on top of him. You clench around him at the movement and he hisses at the tight feel of you. He’s close too but he wants you to fall apart on top of him. He wants to see you fall apart up close so that he can fuck his fist to the memory of it for days after.

 “Ride me, come on.” A firm slap to your ass makes your hips buck into him as you start to move along his length. 

You’re fucked out, chasing your pleasure desperately on top of a pretty man with a pretty cock. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you against his chest when he suddenly starts fucking up into you. He’s impossibly deep and you find yourself gasping for air against his shoulder. Moans and grunts fill the hot air as you fuck each other. For each thrust into you, you grind down on his cock, keeping him deliciously deep in your cunt. Your teeth mindlessly graze over the slope of his shoulder before you bite down into him. Bite, lick, suck. That’s the pattern you follow, over and over again. Making him sing for you as his fingers caress your spine. 

“Come on, you can do it harder than that.” He gasps when you accept his challenge, biting into him with a bruising force. His thrusts become more erratic as he nears his climax but he’s determined to let you soak his cock before he pulls out. “Look at me, baby.”

He leans back into the sofa and his hand moves between your bodies once your eyes meet his. His middle and pointer finger rubs circles into your clit while he ruts up into you “Yes yes, yes ‘s so good.” 

“You like my cock, pretty girl?” The fog in your brain is so thick that you can’t help but to babble as your orgasm climbs up your spine for the third time tonight.

“Love it. Love cock, you -you’re cock. Hyunjin, ‘m gonna cum o-on your cock.” He thought that you were breathtaking before but watching you cock drunk and fucked out while you’re bouncing on his dick might be his favorite way to see you. 

“Go ahead, cum on my cock.” With a few more sloppy thrusts your body trembles against him as you come undone on top of him. He fucks you through it, keeping his fingers pressed against your clit as you squirm on top of him. Your vision goes white and there’s a ringing in your ears that blocks out every word of praise that falls from Hyunjin’s lips. The only thing that you can register is the pressure of his cock as he simultaneously abuses your cervix and clit. 

“Hyun- fuck fuckfuck. So much. Too much.” Once you find the strength to open your eyes you're met with Hyunjin smiling up at you with pinched brows. “You can take it.”

“Pull my hair, baby.” Your trembling hands find their way along the familiar path of his scalp seconds after his request. Pulling at his roots with a delicious force that makes Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as he licks his lips.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.” Moans and whines fall from you nonstop as he fucks into your swollen and sensitive cunt, the wet sound of your arosual where Hyunjin’s cock disappears into you echoes off the walls until he stops, breath hitching in his throat. “Come here.”

His hand is in your hair before you can protest, lifting you off of him and onto your knees. Your cunt feels so empty without him inside of you. “Gonna let me cum on those pretty tits?”

“Yeah, yeah please. Wan' your cum, baby.” He throws his head back, pumping his slick cock in front of your face while you mindlessly slur praises for him. “You’re so fucking pretty, please let me have it. Please, I wan' Jinnie’s cum.” 

“Baby, baby, cumming. I’m fucking cumming.” You both watch as thick ropes of his cum paints your breasts. Dripping over your nipples and the shiny studs just how Hyunjin pictured it last night. “Shit.” 

Your panting fills the room as you both take a second to come down from your high. Hyunjin offers you his hand, helping you up from your knees and catching you when you stumble a bit with a chuckle. “Let me clean you up so you can lie down.” He sits you on the couch, grabbing his sweats and pulling them on before making his way to the bathroom for a wet cloth. 

You blink a couple of times, trying your best to adjust to the light around you. It’s dim but everything seemed darker in your fucked out haze. You settle against the armrest of the sofa, smiling like an idiot while the pulsing of your clit reminds you of everything that just happened. Who would’ve thought that an eyebrow piercing could lead you to having the best fuck of your life. Just as you allow your eyes to flutter shut you feel a heavy vibration under you. With a groan you lift yourself up and search for the source. It’s your jacket, it must be your phone. Oh my gosh, Minho! You sit up with all the strength that you can muster, unlocking your phone and checking your messages. 

“Everything alright?” Hyunjin questions as he kneels in front of you with a warm cloth in hand.

“Yup, just fine.” You grin down at your screen before pushing your phone to the side and allowing Hyunjin to wipe you clean.

From Minho: Knew you weren’t coming back.  

𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘬 + 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘦

Hwang Hyunjin 𝗑 Afab!Reader

♡ Genre - Friends to Lovers

♡ CW - Explicit Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Nightmares, Alcohol usage by reader, Hyunjin calls reader rose as a nickname, One use of 'y/n'.

♡ Summary - Your avoidant tendencies have allowed the burn of pink and white to keep you Hyunjin at a safe distance until it all comes crashing down. Can the fire that kept you apart also be what brings you together?

♡ Word Count - 9.2k

♡ A/N - I went from not being sure if I liked this fic to being in love with it. I think that it's a very sweet fic and I loved writing it. I worked so hard on it and I'm so proud of it. The goal was for it to be 4k words.. then I almost posted it at 8k but now... yeah. I hope that you love this as much as I do!

♡ Playlist - Pink + White - Frank Ocean, Rainy Days - V, For Us - V, Beautiful Things - Benson Boone, Trajectories - Bruno Major

✧ Masterlist ✧

When you were six years old you punched a boy in the face on the playground. That was the first time that you ever felt the burn of genuine fear.

Your mom along with the many others came swirling around them. When your mother asked you what happened you cried. You clung to her running over to you and the crying brunette boy on the playground with a mix of emotions and explained the best you could through your tears that you didn’t like that he was chasing you, when you agreed to play tag you thought that you’d be the chaser not the one being chased.

That was the day that you learned two things about yourself, you have a habit of acting impulsively when you’re scared and you don’t like being chased. It's suffocating.

As you got older your friends described you as the avoidant type, especially in relationships. You developed a reputation for being an ice queen in your Sophomore year of university which led to you being one of the most sought after girls on campus. 

You’ve lost friends because of this. Their boyfriends saw getting close to them as a gateway to meeting you. Many guys took dating you as a challenge with an end prize of overnight popularity. Unfortunately, some of your closest relationships have been destroyed because of it. You learned not to be sad about it, you’ve come to terms with it, this is just the way that it goes. Of course your other friends were all important to you but you always told yourself that you’re alright with losing them as long as you have your best friend by your side. 

“More roses? Are you in love or something?” You weaved through the cluttered art studio that Hyunjin has claimed as his own. It’s on the dead side of campus on the second floor of a building that was abandoned last year. Your best friend refused to let the studio go when it was shut down, he says that it houses some of his fondest memories. 

“Always in love, never loved back.” He quips, eyes still trained on the canvas. “You’re early.”

You jump up onto one of the few clear desks in the room, right behind his easel. “Chemistry ended early.” Hyunjin stands straight, eyeing his canvas for a second before looking over at you. He knows that you’re skipping class. Your last hook-up is in that class and you're trying to avoid his attempt at getting you in his bed again. If you’re being honest, the decision to sleep with him was impulsive. You blame the beer, all eight of them.

“I thought that we could go to the exhibition early.” He starts another brush stroke and silence swallows you both. “I’m excited about it and if I’m being honest I just wanna spend time with you. I’ve barely seen you for the past three days.”

Hyunjin’s steady hand wavers and he thanks his lucky stars that you didn’t see it. “Aw she misses me. She loves me so much.” The sound of your feet hitting the ground as you jump off of the desk echoes through the dusty room of stacked chairs and forgotten storage items. 

Hyunjin stands and dips the paint brush covered in bright pink in the cup of water next to him. “You could’ve come to my place ya know.” You grab your stuff, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“Your brother is there, you know how he gets.” You scrunch your face at the thought of Hyunjin’s step brother, Jeongin. The two of you get along perfectly, almost as well as you and Hyunjin until Jeongin starts flirting. He confessed to you on New Years and you’ve been avoiding him ever since. He’s too sweet for you, you’d hate to hurt him. “I’m gonna go change, I’ll meet you by your car.”

“You brought a costume change for an art exhibit?” He asks as he starts cleaning his space.

“Of course, I need to look like art too.” You smile at him but he doesn’t smile back, he rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to the mess of paints and rags on the desk in front of him. He waits until he hears the door open and close behind you to finally let the corners of his mouth turn up. He chuckles to himself quietly while his mind comes up with responses that he’d never dare to utter out loud.

“This one looks like you, rose.” The year old nickname slips off of Hyunjin’s tongue like silk. You’ve never fully understood how the name stuck. You figured that it’s because roses are his favorite flower and he thought it was cute. You’ve never asked for its origin but you don’t mind the name. It’s sweet.

You turn to view the series of pink, white and green dots making up a bouquet of roses on the framed canvas in front of Hyunjin. He studies it with smiling eyes though the neutral look on his face could fool those who haven’t experienced him like you have.

“It’s pretty.” You mumble as you lean your head on his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his and the sleeve of the brown oversized flannel shirt that you picked out a year ago rides up his forearm a bit, he blames the chills running up his spine on the breeze against the newly exposed skin. 

“I knew I’d see you here.” The voice of a woman next to Hyunjin startles you a bit. You stand straight and watch as Hyunjin smiles towards her. He’s cursing her in his head for interrupting the moment between the two of you but he learned a long time ago to just live in the moment when it comes to you.

“Of course, I had to see this exhibition.” He shakes her hand and you chalk it up to her being someone important though she doesn’t look much older than either of you. “You put it together beautifully.”

Ah, she owns the gallery. “Oh, please, it’s nothing. I just hope that you’re enjoying it. I actually thought about you when I put this piece up.” She motions towards the art in front of the two of you. The piece that Hyunjin says resembles you. “It looks like something you’d design. I’m still desperate to organize a local exhibition for you, ya know.”

Hyunjin laughs but it's stiff and polite. He’s being shy. He’s a very cautious person but he reaches a whole new level when it comes to his art. “I’m not quite on that level yet.”

“I disagree but I won’t bother you about it until you graduate. This is your final semester, right?” You can see her eyes smiling just like Hyunjin’s were a second ago as she checks him out. She’s shameless in her actions, the glint in her eyes is far from professional. 

“Yes, just three months to go.” She nods, dragging her gaze up from his lips with a smile. 

“Call me when you graduate, I’d love to have you working with us.” She pulls a business card out of her pocket and flashes one last smile before waving a reluctant goodbye towards your best friend. 

Silence settles between the two of you for just a couple of seconds before you break it. “She wants to fuck you so badly that she didn’t even look at me.” Hyunjin scoffs at your whispered words as he slips the card into his pocket. “Don’t tell me that you didn’t notice. How old is she anyway? She looks a bit young to be in charge of this place.”

“Her father owns it.” He mumbles as he grabs your wrist and leads you over to the next piece of art. 

“Oh, of course. She probably thought I was your girlfriend, ya know. She’s rude as hell for not even asking or looking at me. I know she saw me here, she’s clearly -” You’re pulled into Hyunjin’s side before you can finish your sentence. The sudden action cuts you off with a heavy thump of your heart and that painfully familiar burn rising in your chest. 

“Look at this one.” Your eyes are on him but his are on the art. “This one looks like you too.” You pull your gaze away from him to view the piece. The thumping in your chest doubles once your gaze meets your own. It’s a mirror with pink and white abstract designs floating around and over the glass. The paint is so messy yet strategic. It leaves just enough room for your reflection. 

“It’s messy yet elegant, don’t you think? You can’t help but to stare..” He’s visibly smiling now. The corners of his mouth turn up as he studies the art in front of him. As he studies you. “This one might be my favorite. It’ll be hard to beat it.”

“I don’t like it.” You mutter quickly, pulling away from Hyunjin and turning towards the next piece. You try your best to steady your breathing. You will your heart to calm down so that you can take a complete breath but it’s betraying you. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” 

You’re walking away before Hyunjin can reply. He watches you with that smile in his eyes as you disappear around the corner. He knew that what he pulled would be a risk but it was one that he was willing to take. He doesn’t call you beautiful nearly as much as he should or as much as he really wants to. 

In the bathroom you’re slumped against the door of a stall while you try to catch your breath. You don’t like how Hyunjin’s words made that white hot burn in your chest kick up. You don’t like the way that his eyes being on you made you feel like you were the only two in the entire gallery. It’s suffocating. 

When you step out of the stall your fingers are busy on your phone screen. You find your friend Isa’s number quickly and take a sigh of relief when she answers on the third ring. You bypass reciprocating her kind greeting and get right to the point. 

“Get-together at yours tomorrow?”

You’re standing in the middle of the Pink and White art exhibition. Other viewers jumble together along the walls of the gallery and crowd the pieces. You can’t see anything but their blurred faces decorating the white walls. There’s a slow yet heavy beating in your ears but you’re comfortable. You’re alone in the middle of it all, watching everyone from a pleasant distance as you turn to study them all as if they’re the art on the walls.

 The beating in your ears skips as you turn and come face to face with Hyunjin. He’s standing in front of you wearing that brown hat that you love and the oversized flannel that he bought just to share with you.

 Suddenly the others in the room are quiet. All eyes are on you but Hyunjin’s gaze is the most piercing. His brown eyes are smiling at you with a softness that makes the flame in your chest burn brighter. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” You look around at everyone else but they’ve vanished along with the art on the walls. The beating in your ears picks up, it’s deafening but Hyunjin’s voice can be heard loud and clear over the noise.  

“I like staring at you.” He takes a step towards you but you take two back. He frowns and steps forward again. You repeat the process until your back is against the wall. “Why do you do that?” 

“I’m not doing anything.” You swallow hard as you try to push him away but he’s stronger than you. As strong as stone caging you against the stark white wall. “I can’t breathe.” You’re pushing as hard as you can but it’s no use. You’re stuck under him.

“Why do you do this?” He’s still staring down at you, a burning gaze setting your skin ablaze. “Why do you keep running?” The beating in your ears drowns out all sensible thoughts. You can feel your veins swelling with fear and the blinding white burning in your chest puffs up with the crushing pressure of having him so close. Too close. 

“Back up.” You inhale the thick air, feeling dizzy. “Move.”

“Stop running.” You try to inhale but it gets stuck in your throat. You want to scream. You need to escape. You need to get out of here. 

You lift your heavy arm the best you can and pull back enough to punch Hyunjin. You aim for his face but your fist goes through him just as your lungs start to burn, you take one last look at him before the wall behind you gives out and you’re falling backwards. Hyunjin watches you, his eyes are void of that sparkling smile and guilt consumes you right before you hit the ground.

You jump up with a gasp as your eyes frantically search the room around you. Your chest rises and falls heavily and sweat beads at your hairline.

It was a dream. 

Friday is a late day for you with your last class ending at nine in the evening. Hyunjin always waits for you in the abandoned art studio, he waits for two hours just to walk you to your dorm across campus. It’s become a routine for the two of you but you told him not to wait up tonight. He was reluctant at first, he insisted on waiting for you but you were adamant about breaking your routine.

He agreed eventually but you could see the dejection in his eyes as he hugged you goodbye before your last class. He watched you walk away just like he always did but this time his heart was heavy in his chest. Did he do something wrong? 

That question haunted him throughout the day. It was loud in his head as he collected his stuff and made his way to the abandoned studio. It echoed in his ears as he tried to finish the painting of his vibrant rose that he’s added notes of dusty pale pink to. But it was the loudest when Jeongin called him to ask if he was going to the get-together at Minho’s place tonight.

He knows that you and Minho’s girlfriend Isa are close so you have to know about this, hell, you might’ve even helped plan it and you kept it from him. You’re avoiding him.

You skipped your class to head to Minho and Isa’s place. They share a small apartment right off of campus that you often use as an escape. Isa is one of the few friends that you still have from sophomore year since her boyfriend has never once tried to get in your pants. 

You sat on Isa’s bed clutching a bottle of soju that is not at all meant for one person while you laid your head in her lap. You loved being with her because there was never any pressure to fill the silence. She understands you in a way that other people just don’t. Not even Hyunjin. 

“So, he called you pretty?” You’ve been telling her everything from what happened at the art gallery to the nightmare you had last night. “And now you’re avoiding him?”

“I’m not avoiding him.” You take a swig from the glass bottle and gulp hard to rush the alcohol into your system. “I’m just being careful.”

“You’re being careful by avoiding your best friend… because he called you pretty and you had a nightmare about it?” You sit up with a groan, lifting the bottle to your mouth again with a sigh. She’s not getting it. 

“You didn’t see the way he looked at me. You didn’t feel the way he pulled me into him, his arm wrapped around my waist and he just stared at me with that smile in his eyes. You know the one that makes his eyes shine when he sees something pretty? He was looking at me like that and he told me that I looked elegant. Messy but elegant and that he couldn’t help but to stare. There was a softness in his voice, I swear, and he just wouldn’t take his eyes off of me. It’s like he was looking into me instead of at me it was… it was..”

“Sweet?” You tap the bottle in your hands with your nails. 

“Suffocating. It was too much. It made my heart skip and it made me feel hot.” 

“That usually means that you like him, ya know.” She takes the bottle from you, drinking from it a bit herself. “ You know that he’s a romantic and this isn’t the first time you’ve felt like this with him.” She hands the cold glass back to you while you think back to the other times that you’ve felt this. The latest being your birthday three months ago when Hyunjin whisked you away to the next city for a mini getaway. 

You stayed in the same hotel room and on the night of your birthday you had a bit too much to drink. He carried you up to your room since you were too out of it to walk but you weren’t too far gone to forget the way that he handled you with such gentle care.

He brushed your hair out of your face when he laid you on your bed and took your make-up off with such a tender touch that it made you want to kiss him. You almost kissed him. 

“I don’t like him like that.” You shrug and she sighs. 

“Whatever you say, ice queen.” That damned nickname makes you cringe but Minho is bursting through the door before you can rebuttal. 

“Jisung and Bin just got here, come on.” You stare at him with confused eyes and he crosses his arms as he stares back at you. “Well? Get up, you wanted to do this.”

“Do what?” You look over at Isa who’s already getting up from the bed.

“Did you not call her asking for a get-together? People are getting here so come on. I’m not hosting this by myself.” Your heart drops and you stare over at Isa who looks back at you with her own look of confusion until it all sinks in.

 “You meant for it to be just us, didn’t you?”

Hyunjin is a cautious person, anyone who knows him knows that about him. He doesn’t like when things go wrong because of him. It eats him alive until he can fix it and if he can’t he lets the anxiety consume him until a part of him dies with the memory of it all. 

His cautious nature is what prompted him to drive home after he got that call from Jeongin. It brought him right to his bedroom where he dropped his bag by the foot of his bed and laid back against the mattress with a death stare set on the dull ceiling. It stared back at him, reflecting his thoughts back to him for him to analyze. 

His brother left for the get-together as soon as he walked through the door and Hyunjin was tempted to follow him down to Seungmin’s car.

He was tempted to drop his bag and turn on his heels and come straight to you but he knew better. He knew you better than you knew yourself. If he shows up at that get-together you’ll avoid him like the plague. You’ll feel trapped by his presence and any hope that he has of fixing this situation will die right in front of his eyes. 

His cautious nature is what’s keeping him on his bed. It’s what’s grounding him to this spot and sating the burning desire to chase you. The problem is that the fire in his chest is bigger than he can handle. He’s seen how you treat the men you want to avoid on campus, he’s seen you take the long way home just to avoid a conversation and the thought of you doing that to him makes him wilt. He can’t let that happen. 

His feet are carrying him across his room before he can even fully process it. He opens his closet and pulls out the brown flannel along with his brown beanie. They’ve become comfort items for the both of you at this point, especially the flannel. It feels like a thread connecting you to him and him to you. He needs to save that connection.

 He sloppily throws on the items while he checks the clock. He’s nearly two hours late but there’s still time. 

Hyunjin has never gotten a speeding ticket but he was nearly positive that he’d get one tonight. He made it to Minho’s place in record time but he’s panting when he knocks on the door like he’s ran there. His heart is hammering when Isa answers the door and the look on her face when she takes him in only makes his heart beat faster. 

She forces a smile, inviting him in and telling him where everything is but he already knows all of that and she knows that he does. “She doesn’t want to see me does she?” Isa sighs, giving him a look that answers each and every one of his questions all at once. 

“Thanks for letting me in.” He walks past her with a nervous huff, making his way into the small party and searching for you immediately. He finds Changbin and Chan before he can find you and the two quickly drag him into a conversation about gods know what while wedging a glass bottle of mystery liquid into his fist. 

Hyunjin’s eyes wander in an attempt to find you as he ignores his friends' conversation. Luckily it didn’t take long for the sound of your loud laughter to echo through the room. His eyes were on you in an instant once he heard it. You’re right in front of him sitting in the truth or dare circle with a can of something strong in your hand. You’re always the loudest in the room but right now you seem to be the drunkest too, you shouldn’t be playing that game you’ll do something reckless.  

He wants to go over and pull you up, he wants to tell you that you’re going home and that you need to sober up. He wants to get you to talk to him but he ignores everything he wants and watches you instead. He stays cautious and keeps his distance. 

“Y/n, truth or dare.” One of your few girl friends, Harvey asks from across the circle. You answer ‘dare’ with a wide smile, it’s no surprise, you always pick that. The raven haired girl looks over to Mingi for assistance since she’s known for picking terrible dares. After a couple seconds of deliberation the blonde perks up with an idea.

“I dare you to kiss whoever this bottle lands on.” Mingi dares with a nonchalant smile and you shrug, the alcohol in your system is surely boosting your confidence but it’s not like you’ll remember any of this tomorrow so who cares, right?

He spins the bottle in the middle of the circle and everyone watches with quiet anticipation as it lands on the copper haired boy sitting three people away from you. It’s Jeongin. 

He stops in the middle of sipping from his cup and flashes you a small innocent smile but what you return to him is nothing less than a look of raw seduction. You’re on your feet in an instant, making your way over to him with low and hazy eyes. You straddle him swiftly, getting comfortable in his lap like you’ve done this a hundred times. 

“You sure about this, noona?” His hands rest on your thighs, he brushes his thumbs over the bareskin and you can feel a shiver down your spine. It almost reminds you of how Hyunjin touched you on your birthday. 

“Do you not wanna kiss me?” You tease him with a slight slur to your voice. You know he wants to kiss you, everyone does except for Hyunjin, right? 

Just as that thought passes your eyes flicker up and meet those of the very man on your mind. He’s watching you with an angry gaze as he fists the neck of the glass bottle in his hand. Your mouth goes dry as you take him in, when did he get here? You feel stuck staring at him, everything around you is suddenly muted and the people around you disappear. It’s only you and Hyunjin.

Both of your hearts are pounding in your chest. 

Both of you feel like you can’t breathe. 

Both of you are about to do something that you shouldn’t.

“Kiss her already!” Ryujin instigates from across the circle and you snap out of your haze and blink down at Jeongin. You both share a smile, one more genuine than the other, before he’s leaning into you. His lips just barely brush against yours before you’re interrupted.

A firm grip on your shoulder startles you and the man under you. You both look up to meet the eyes of the angry Hyunjin above you.“Get up.” He practically growls with a slight tug on your arm. You stare up at him with glassy eyes though you are feeling a bit more sober now. “Get. Up.” 

You’re being pulled up before you can process it. Your feet fight to keep up with him as you stumble towards the bedroom he’s leading you to. You can feel all eyes on you, you can feel the room getting smaller once he locks the bedroom door behind the two of you and pulls his flannel off to drape over your shoulders, something that he does to comfort you. 

“What the fuck?” That’s all you can manage to get out of your mouth as you stare over at him. He stares back with his arms crossed and his chest rising and falling with what you perceive as anger but he would describe as anxiety. Pure fear. 

“Do you understand what you were about to do?” Hyunjin tries to be mindful of his tone. He tries to limit the waver of his words and calm the frantic thoughts in his head. He’s trying. “Why would you kiss him?”

“I didn’t.” The alcohol in your system takes over again and you thank the ridiculous amount of soju you’ve consumed for coming to the rescue. You tug on the flannel resting over your shoulders, pretending that its warmth would protect you from the buzzing in your head and inevitable burning in your chest.

“You would’ve if I didn’t stop you. What happened to you not being into Jeongin? What happened to you not wanting to hurt him?”

You groan, stomping your foot like a child being scolded by their guardian. Like the little girl who punched the brunette boy in the face for chasing her. “Why don’t you mind your business?”

Hyunjin scoffs, his anxiety grows in his chest and he takes a step back. “You are my business.” 

It’s silent for one, two, three heartbeats before the dizzying emotions burning in your chest fill in the silence for you. “Well maybe I shouldn’t be. You’re way too attached to me.”

Hyunjin feels frozen even though he’s stepping back from you. He’s creating more space between the two of you just like you seem to be doing. What do you mean by that? You’re rambling on before he can ask. “You do all of these things that make me feel like I can’t breathe. You call me pretty and you touch me softly and you hold me close and… and you just make me feel hot. You suffocate me.”

Hyunjin whispers through the bubbles forming in his throat. He’s gentle with the way he speaks, he is a cautious person after all, especially when it comes to his art. “Is this about what I said at the gallery?”

His question goes in one ear and right out the other. Your brain formulates words quicker than you can process them, creating a violent episode of word vomit that threatens to spill over your lips and onto the carpet but you swallow hard and condense it all into one simple yet seering sentence. “You keep making my heart race, it’s not fair. You need to go, just go.”

Hyunjin’s blood runs cold and his temples throb like you’ve hit him. Like you’ve punched him in the face. Anxiety bubbles in his veins and swells behind his eyes. It’s his turn to ramble, the word vomit seems to be contagious. 

“I’m not leaving.” His gaze is frantic, cautious, scared. “I am too attached, you’re right. I have been for a while. I’ve loved you for a while and I tried to hide it but I shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t be scared that I’ll lose my best friend if I tell her that she’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

 “No, you are not confessing to me right now. Don’t you dare do that.” You pace to the left then the right in a hurried attempt to escape his words before they could reach you. He can’t be doing this right now. You needed to get out of here.

“I am. I am confessing to you. I need you to hear me say that I love you because I do and it scares me just as much as it scares you but you are the reason that it’s scaring me. Losing you is the reason that I’m afraid and I need you to tell me that that isn’t going to happen.” His voice is shaky just like your hands. He watches you like a dog being dropped off at the pound as you physically try to escape him. He knew this would happen, this is what he was afraid of. 

“Stop. Just stop it, Hyunjin. You’re doing it again, I can’t breathe when you’re this close to me.” He stares over at you from the other side of the room and you stare back at him. This doesn’t make any sense. He isn’t next to you but you still can’t breathe. It doesn’t make any sense. “I have to go - I have - just… just leave me alone.” You turn towards the bedroom door but he speaks up before you can make your escape. 

“I’m not going to chase you.” Hyunjin is unmoving. His feet are still planted to the floor like a statue as he slips his fists into his pocket. “I don’t want to push you further away but don’t you dare go home and convince yourself that I don’t care just because I let you go.” 

You listen to him over your hammering heart with your back turned to him and your unsteady gaze trained on the worn door knob. “I’m letting you go with the hope that you’ll come back. You know where to find me.” 

Your feet threaten to betray you, they try to turn you around and drive you over to him but your heart is screaming. That white flame is burning in your chest and begging you to run. Run as fast as you can and find safety, but your safety is standing behind you. It’s watching you with teary eyes that are desperate to meet yours. 

A tear slips down your cheek as you grab the doorknob and pull it with a quick twist. You follow your heart and rush out of the room with tears decorating your face and your hand over your mouth. You let the burning win again.

You rush past everyone, Isa tries to stop you and Minho even catches you for a minute but you fight him off of you and make your way to the front door. You don’t get too far before the last layer of your resolve snaps, You turn onto the next dark block and sink to the ground. Sobs rip through you as Hyunjin’s words hang in your head. He loves you. He wants you but you left him. You left everything you’ve ever wanted behind you. 

A heavier sob escapes you as the truth of it all comes crashing down. You love him too, don’t you? You’ve loved him for so long. Since your birthday and beyond that but you’ve been avoiding it. You’ve avoided your feelings just like you have everything else. You’ve punched yourself in the face, you’ve chased yourself into a corner and now you might just lose everything you have left. You might lose your best friend.

The storms over the next two days swirl the skies into mysterious clouds of pink and white as rain soaks the grass the same way that you’ve soaked your pillow for hours. You’ve opted to stay in, avoiding anything or anyone that could remind you of Friday’s catastrophe.

 You’ve debated texting Jeongin and apologizing for what you remember of the situation. You almost called Isa to spill the fears bubbling in your lungs to her so that she could help you sort through them but she can’t. This is up to you. You need to make a choice. Will you run away from the fire or towards it? 

On the other side of campus Hyunjin sits in the abandoned studio with paint stained hands and dried tears on his cheeks. He’s left his previous painting incomplete. The bright blushing rose sits across the room with the others just like it while he touches his brush to the canvas and smears a smoky mauve to the pristine white flesh. His lines are messy and uncalculated. Far from cautious. 

For a moment he considers that he was only ever careful because of you. Your lack of control over your emotions inspired him to fill in the blanks for you. Now there’s no need for caution without you.

The rain carried into Monday along with the emptiness in your chest. You’ve typed and deleted paragraphs to Hyunjin who has done the same as he sat on the studio floor.

He stayed in the dusty room until midnight each day that he was without you and you stayed up well past then. He poured himself into painting and you poured yourself onto the carpet of your dorm room. You made lists and mapped your emotions until it all started to make a bit more sense. Until the love that burned alongside your hot white fear was glowing pink in the mirror. 

You skipped your classes on Monday, your feet drove you over to the dead side of campus through the violent rain. You stood in the hallway outside of Hyunjin’s studio. The worn copper doorknob stared back at you like it knew what you were here to do. Like it was daring you to go inside. You suck in a breath as you grab the metal, you’ve never been one to back down from a dare.

The studio is empty when you walk inside. The fading warm light of the lamps that you and Hyunjin bought and snuck in illuminate the space the best that they can given the dull pink skies. Your eyes catch on the new piece sitting up on his easel. It’s dark and runny, it’s raw and it feels like it’s calling your name. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. His voice is small and surprised as he stares over at your frame clad in that famous brown flannel and sweatpants. 

“Hi.” You whisper back. He looks like a mess. Brown hat, pulled too far over his head and his hair spilling from every exit it can find. “More roses?” 

He stares passed you and over at the wilting petals on the canvas with a sad smile. “It’s like I’m in love or something.” 

Your guilt tinged heart beats a bit faster when he steps further into the room and closes the door behind him. He drops his bag next to the door and stares at the dinghy tile with his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry. For everything, for the party and everything with your brother and for everything that I said.” 

The word vomit is back. It spilled over your lips before you could attempt to swallow it back but you’re almost thankful for it. You have no clue how you’d get your words out otherwise. “You just made me feel… I just felt..” You kick at the cracked tile as if it holds the answers you’re looking for but Hyunjin beats you to it.

“Suffocated.” His eyes are on you now, they’re low and shadowed in a longing sadness. “I’ve seen this happen a million times to other guys and I thought that I was being careful enough to avoid it.” 

“This is nothing like the other guys.” Your bag slumps off of your shoulder and you carelessly allow it to hit the floor. “Your confession just -” He cuts you off with a tight smile.

 “I know. It ruined everything.” He sighs, sad eyes examining the space between the two of you. “I ruined everything and I’m sorry for that, rose. I really am.”

“It didn't. It didn’t ruin anything, it just scared me. I felt suffocated, yes, but not by you. It was by what I felt for you. That’s why this isn’t like what happened with any of the other guys. I never wanted them. Avoiding them was easy but you… avoiding you..” Hyunjin watches your heaving chest with the caution that he thought had abandoned him. He’s quiet, allowing you time to gather your thoughts. He doesn’t want to corner you, he just wants to hear you. 

“Why do you call me that?” You whisper once your breathing has steadied. “Why did you start calling me rose?”

Suddenly he’s looking past you then down at the tile under his feet. He leans against the door behind him, a faint smile decorating his sad face. “You were wearing one in your hair on the day that I realized I love you.” He looks over to where his easel is set up. “We were sitting right there and you had a pale pink rose behind your left ear. You picked me one to match and I told you that it was my favorite flower because in that moment it was. It was beautiful but you…your beauty is hard to beat.”

Your heart is thumping in your ears, it’s a sound that you’ve grown comfortable with over the past few days. The clutter of the abandoned room almost seems to disappear as you process his words. The burning in your chest makes itself known along with the newly identified pink flame. The white walls of the studio almost seem brighter as you receive Hyunjin’s confession. You let it sink in and drown out the tension little by little. “So when you paint them…”

“I’m painting you. I’m always painting you.” The thumping is deafening but Hyunjin is clear over the noise. He has always been the only one who can cut through it all, even in your dreams. 

You can feel yourself falling just like in your nightmare only it’s forwards. You’re falling forwards as your feet carry you to him. You run. You run to him and you fall into his arms that have been desperate to catch you for months. The burn in your chest is paralyzing, it’s seering and fighting the pink flame for dominance. 

You cry into his chest, you sob as the pain of running into the fire engulfs you. It swallows you whole and you stand in it with him, you cling to him before you burn to ash and he holds you like he knows it all. He cradles the back of your head like he can feel the fire ripping your flesh apart. 

You’re flush against him, tears soaking his shoulder and burning all over until he does what no one has done before. He puts it all out. A simple kiss to the top of your head dowses the flame and reduces it to a measly spark of fear overshadowed by an uncontainable pink and white glow of love in your chest. 

You gasp at the cooling effect. Air rushes into your lungs and you can finally breathe, he’s the oxygen you needed. He’s everything you’ve needed but now you want to give your air away again. You want to give it all to him. 

You pull away from his shoulder in one swift motion, your eyes are shut tight as your lips find his and you pull him into a hard and messy kiss. The sound that escapes you both is desperate and beautiful. His lips move with yours in an uncoordinated rhythm that makes your lungs burn comfortably. They burn the way that they’re supposed to. 

Hyunjin cries into the kiss. Tears stream down his cheeks as he cradles you against him like you’d vanish if he didn’t. He drinks it all in, he allows himself to live in this moment that he’s been dying to have with you for what feels like an eternity before he reluctantly breaks the kiss. 

His eyes are still closed when he pulls away. He whispers to you, careful not to crack the shell of this delicate moment. “I thought you -” 

“I don’t want to keep running. I can’t, I need you. I can’t lose you.” Your eyes flutter open at the same time as his. He stares down at you with that smile in his eyes. That smile he has when he sees something beautiful, when he’s utterly enamored by the sight before him. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how to do any of this, I only know that I want to do it with you.”

He’s quiet for a couple of seconds before a smile sneaks up on him. It fades just as quickly as it came and his eyebrows pinch together. “You want me?” You nod and the smile shows itself again. 

“I want you.” He leans back in, cupping your cheek as he kisses you hard. His body pushes against yours and you move with him as he walks backwards towards one of the few empty desks and lifts you onto it. 

His hands explore every inch of you that he can reach. He balls his fist over the baggy flannel hiding your body from him while your fingers tangle in his hair and scratch over his shoulders and up his arms.

 He breaks the kiss to run his lips over the flushed flesh of your neck, he whispers into your skin between each kiss “Tell me to stop.” He pulls at the collar of the flannel to kiss the curve of your neck. “I’ve waited so long for this, please tell me to stop. Tell me to wait.”

You push his head further into the crook of your neck as you tilt your head further to give him better access. “I don’t want you to.” He sucks a mark into the skin right below your ear and you pull his tucked in shirt from his pants with an elated moan. 

His clumsy fingers fight to unbutton the oversized flannel as yours attempt to unbutton his jeans. You reach your goal before he does and waste no time capitalizing on your victory. You dip your hand in just enough to fish his growing erection from his briefs and wrap your hand around it. 

Hyunjin moans at the stimulation, leaning his forehead against yours and squeezing his eyes shut as you stroke him slowly. “Fuck, please don’t, I wont - I can’t last.”

 You kiss his temple softly, whispering reassurance that you don’t care to have him last, you just want to have him. Once he’s centered himself again he continues his struggle to expose your body to him. The final button falls open like the curtain to a play and he stares down your scantily clad torso like an audience in awe. 

His hand moves on its own as he admires you. It dips into the waistband of your sweatpants and swipes over your clothed clit.

 Your head falls forward to rest on his shoulder with a quiet moan as he groans into the air. Your grip on his cock tightens a bit in response to the sensation and he hisses. “Please tell me I can feel you. Is it okay? Can I?” 

He doesn't want your first time to be here but he wants you. He needs you. 

Hyunjin hooks a finger into the damp gusset of your panties and pulls it to the side just enough to slip a finger into your waiting cunt. You pant in his ear, wanton moans bubble over the brim of your lips as his free hand cradles the side of your neck. “Look at me, please look at me, baby.”

 He runs his thumb over your cheek, brushing over the path of your dried tears. “So pretty, this must be a dream.” You shake your head. Speaking between moans. “Not a dream, baby.”

 He slips in another finger as you circle your palm over the head of his cock and you both moan. “Please tell me I can.” He leans his forehead against yours, his desperate eyes reflect the look in your own.

“You can. Please, I want you to.” 

“Have you ever thought about it?” He’s asking before he can process it and you’re shaking your head before he can even finish his sentence. A shy glaze washes over your desperate gaze as you watch him undress you.

 “You’re all I ever think about.” He whispers as he hooks his thumbs into the band of your pants. “You’re all I’ve wanted for the past year.” 

“I’ve loved you since my birthday.” You blurt out, vulnerable eyes peering into his. “Maybe even before that.” He runs a finger over your clothed cunt and you shudder under the touch.

“I wanted to kiss you the night of your birthday. You looked so beautiful but you were wasted. You wouldn’t have remembered. I just stared at you, I took your make-up off and I brushed the hair from your face and you stared back at me. I was just dying to kiss you. I was dying to confess.” Your hand runs slowly up his shaft and he swears that he feels electric. 

“I wanted to kiss you too.” He’s quiet, staring back at you with a smile. “That’s why I was staring”

“I kissed your forehead when you fell asleep.”  He pulls your panties down your legs, allowing them to pool at his feet with your sweatpants. “I knelt by your bed and whispered my confession to you.” 

His fingers are filling you again and you gasp while staring into his eyes. “I wanna hear it.” You whisper through a moan.

 “You want to hear my confession?” You nod, your gently fucked out gaze stares into his like your hypnotized by the moment. He scissors his finger into you, stretching you out just a bit before you’re gasping from the stretch of him replacing his fingers with his length. 

“Fuck, you’re inside of me.” Hyunjin stills with a groan. His forehead rests on your shoulder while he silently begs himself not to come undone just yet. He sucks in a breath before he recites all that he can remember. 

“You’re everything that I thought it would be to fall in love.” He whispers as he pulls back, thrusting into you slowly. “You really snuck up on me, I don’t know what I expected though.” He lifts his head to look at you as he sinks back into you. “You became my world so quickly. So effortlessly.”

 You cup his face with both of your hands as you bite back your moans. You want to hear him loud and clear. You want to remember every word. “I should’ve known that I’d fall in love when I first met you.” He picks up the pace, falling into a messy rhythm that’s accompanied by a fit of moans and grunts. 

He struggles to keep his eyes on you. They flutter shut with each thrust as he feels himself float closer and closer to his climax. “Baby, I won’t last.” You wrap your arms around his neck and one of his wraps around your waist while the other rests on your thigh before creeping over to softly pinch and rub your clit. 

“Hyune, you’re gonna make me - gonna -” He cuts you off with a sloppy kiss, his tongue brushes over your parted lips to request access before making room for itself against yours.

“If you tell me that you’re gonna cum I won’t last another second.” He whispers against your lips and you moan against his.

“What if I tell you that I love you.” Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinch at the confession. That’s way worse than telling him that you’re close. “I’ve loved you back for as long as - as long as you’ve loved me.”

“Rose, baby, you’re gonna -” It’s your turn to kiss him now, it’s a mess of teeth and tongue but you love it. You love him and him you.

 You both pull away in tandem, twin moans ripping through your chests as you both announce yourself to the other. 

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Hyunjin pulls out of you, painting your thighs in his sticky white release while his fingers toy with your clit to ride you through your orgasm. It’s loud and messy and beautiful. A romantic elegance that you want to live in for as long as it’s available. 

Once you’ve both come down from your high Hyunjin kisses your sweaty forehead and you kiss his. He pulls his bottoms up before grabbing the cleanest paint rag he has to clean you up. A comfortable silence settles around you as you ground yourself and take in the space.

“You didn’t finish that one.”

He follows your gaze over to the painting of the pale pink rose. The middle of the canvas contrasts the rest with nothing but dull line art to show the completed picture. It looks like a work in progress. “I know, but I think I like it like that.” He looks back over at you and you at him.

“It looks like you."

It’s been seven months. Graduation has come and gone in the middle of your blooming relationship with Hyunjin and you’ve dedicated each and every second of your budding love to taming the flame. 

Each kiss from him has kept the spark of fear at bay and each touch has taught you how to stop running. It’s been a slow and cautious process that he is more than proud to be a part of. He takes pride in it. He takes pride in being with you.

The smooth breeze of late summer brushes against your skin as you step out of your car. The white dress that Hyunjin picked out for you sticks to you like paint on a canvas as you make your way up to the art gallery. 

It’s buzzing inside, people stand and stare in awe at each piece while whispering and pointing to their favorite details. You stop and stand in the middle of it all, taking it all in with a slow spin on the balls of your feet. You take in every corner until you turn around completely and you’re met with the face of the artist himself. 

“Hi.” Hyunjin smiles down at you, brown baggy flannel hanging from his shoulders. 

“Hi.” You stare back at him with a gleaming smile in your eyes. You take in every inch of him, scanning him like he should be framed and hanging on the walls around you. 

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Hyunjin wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “I like staring at you.” Your response makes him beam a shy smile. 

“You should be staring at the art. The artist might get sad if you don’t.” He kisses your forehead before letting you go. Some people around you stare over at the two of you with curious eyes. They’re eager to put a face to the muse of the showing artist. 

You take his hand and lead him over to the piece that a couple is walking away from. You stand in front of it hand in hand as you study it for what feels like the millionth time. “This one is my favorite.” The incomplete pale pink rose stares back at you.

“And why is that?” Hyunjin has that smile in his eyes as he stares up with you. The memory of this piece's origin plays behind his eyes like a memorized movie. 

“I’ve been told that it looks like me.” You lay your head on his shoulder and wrap your arm around his. A chill runs up his spine and he blames it on you. You and the love he feels glowing pink and white around you. 

“There you are.” History repeats itself as the lady that you’ve come to know as Dalia interrupts the two of you. “I wanted to check in with you, how does it feel to finally have your own exhibition?” 

Hyunjin smiles at her politely, turning towards her a bit with his fingers still threaded through yours. “It’s amazing. Thank you, you’ve done a wonderful job putting this together.” 

“Oh, please, it’s nothing. This is all you.” You watch her as her eyes smile just as they always have. Her hand brushes over his arm in a carefully calculated move. She’s still shameless and unprofessional. “This piece is my favorite. The unfinished look is unique and raw. What inspired this one?” 

You grin to yourself as you listen to her. She’s trying so hard that it’s difficult not to laugh. 

“Actually.” Hyunjin pulls your hand a bit, leading you forward so that you’re right next to him. It’s impossible for Dalia to ignore you now. Her eyes scan you reluctantly and the smile on her face falters for a second before she pulls it together. Gosh, that's gratifying. 

“My lovely rose here is the inspiration for it all.” Hyunjin looks over at you with a glow that is unmatched even by the largest of flames. “None of this would be possible without her.” 

It’s like Dalia disappears once Hyunjin looks over at you. You’re the only two in the room as far as you’re concerned. “Oh, well that’s just - that’s wonderful.” Her staggered speech pulls you both out of your loving haze. 

“Such a … sweet profession of love.” She glares over at you though you’re sure that in her head she’s doing a wonderful job at hiding her contempt. “I should make sure that everything is running smoothly. Please excuse me.” 

She clears her throat awkwardly before she departs, you and Hyunjin both bid her smiling farewells before turning to each other with wide smiles. “Show off.” You push his shoulder playfully and he laughs.

“I didn’t do anything.” You roll your eyes as you both wander over to the next piece on the wall. You stare up at the two pink roses in a lone vase, a shadow of sunlight casts down on them both as they rise towards its shining glow. 

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you while you listen to the soft buzz of the people around you. You squeeze his hand softly and he squeezes back just as you open your mouth to speak. 

“She still wants to fuck you.” He smiles 

“Shut up.”

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Carnal

AN: Everybody thank Lollapalooza Hyunjin for forcibly dragging me out of my writing rut and making me post again. Also, thanks to Sam @souplix for listening to my stressed, horny thoughts and feelings about him lol.

Synopsis: You have a very rude awakening about how sweaty Hyunjin makes you feel.

Tags and warnings: Hwang Hyunjin x Fem! Reader, established relationship, mentions of Hyunjin going to the gym/working out and how his body has changed because of that, one brief mention of possessiveness, Reader is shorter than Hyunjin and there is no plot here.

Smut tags and warnings: Reader is down catastrophic (she's just like me fr), scent kink, sweat kink, lots of mentions of sweat and scent basically lol, lots of licking and biting (both giving and receiving), implied strength kink, mentions of bruises, sex in Reader's kitchen, some pussy play (f. receiving), handjob (m. receiving), throatfucking (m. receiving), one mention of hentai, kissing post oral sex, dirty talk, some manhandling, Reader is lifted briefly, piv sex without a condom, praise (f. receiving), usage of petnames, creampie, hints of overstimulation, a brief mention of tears, mentions of Hyunjin being clawed at, mentions of pussy eating and implied cum eating.

Word count: 3.3k

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

It's stupid. So incredibly stupid.

You don't know why your brain and body have chosen today to make such a big deal out of your very attractive, very sweaty boyfriend but, they've decided now was apparently the appropriate time to conspire against you. Maybe you can blame this on ovulation. Maybe if you check your calendar, the desire you feel clawing at your gut watching him chug water from his bottle and the way his white shirt clings to his broad back will all make total sense.

When did he get so broad, anyway? You feel like you just blinked and suddenly he was all muscles and strength and you're trying really hard not to think of that one he pressed you so hard into your mattress that your thighs were littered with bruises afterwards–

“Are you okay?” His concerned voice violently shakes you out of the memories that were fogging up your brain. Oh. Oh, it's so much worse being faced with him directly. Who the fuck goes to the gym in a white shirt? Doesn't he see the way it's sticking to his drenched torso? Is he just that unaware of how sweaty of a person he is? Does he not care? You shove down the twinge of possessiveness that flares up at the idea of anyone getting to look at him while he looks this hot.

“Hmm? I'm fine. Why do you ask?” You pray to whatever higher power is listening that the breathy quality of your voice is only evident to you.

The knowing look that dawns on his handsome face lets you know that the higher powers aren't on your side today.

You've been in love with Hyunjin for far, far longer than the two of you have been together and you know it's way too soon to tell him that. However, it's moments like this that make you question your feelings because the smugness rolling off of him in waves as he sets down his bottle and stalks his way over to you is so insufferable. It's hard to maintain your annoyed exterior when he's so close to you and his scent is all around you. You think your ovulation hypothesis might have been correct because it's so fucking absurd that your mouth starts to water just from smelling him and his damp chest being a few centimetres from your face.

“I'm not sure why,” he starts and the gravelly quality of his voice shoots straight to the apex of your thighs. He doesn't stop, though. Pressing you further into your kitchen counter while his hands burn a trail from your thighs to your hips, your oversized shirt shifting up in the process, “but, you look like you want to devour me right now.”

The whimper that escapes your throat is beyond pathetic but, apparently that's all he needs before pouncing. The wind is knocked out of the moment his mouth descends onto yours. His hands give your hips a sharp squeeze before drifting to your ass. Kneading it while his tongue and teeth leave you a mess. All you can think to do is grasp onto his biceps for some sort of lifeline. The muscles and veins underneath your palms don't help the state of pussy in the slightest. The sheer ferocity of the want you feel for him right is a little terrifying. He could ask you to do anything right now and you doubt you'd find it within you to say no.

You swallow down the frustrated whine that threatens to bubble out of you when he pulls his mouth away from you. He doesn't keep you waiting for long, though. Kissing his way along your jaw until his full lips begin showering your neck with licks and nips. If he has any complaints about the way your nails dig into his biceps, he doesn't make them known. God, it's like you can feel your sanity crumbling with every kiss he presses into you and every millisecond you spend surrounded by his dizzying scent. This is quite the way to discover you're apparently really into your boyfriend when he's covered in sweat.

He departs from your neck with one, final kiss. Meeting your lidded gaze with an electrifying one of his own. Frankly, with the way he's looking at you right now, you're not sure why he hasn't tugged down his sweats and shoved his cock into you. It's clear as day that that's what you both want. Then again, your boyfriend being ever the giving romantic typically isn't one to let you feel him until he's made you cum with his fingers and/or mouth at least once. Which you do love but, you're pretty sure if he doesn't sink his cock into you right now, you might die actually. You're sure you're more than wet enough.

As if reading your mind, one of his hands drift to your inner thighs and, of course, you spread them for him. Your breath stills in your lungs when his fingertips brush against your soaked folds. “Fuck,” he hisses, his jaw clenched so hard that you can see one his veins tick. Honestly, if you weren't so delirious just from a few, light strokes of his fingers, you'd happily be licking at it. “How are you so wet already?” He asks, his eyes meeting yours briefly and, the intensity in them makes it infinitely harder to breath, before his attention is focused back on watching his fingers toy with you.

“It's not my fault you're so hot,” you mean to say that as a half-joke but, the sheer desire in your tone makes any attempt at humour fall flat. His mouth is back on yours in a heartbeat. His fingers trace your slick folds with practised ease. He even has the nerve to grin against your lips when your hips jump as his fingers add pressure to your neglected clit. You're so relieved that you have your counter there to support you because you're certain your legs would have given out ages ago. He greedily swallows every noise he pulls from you with his mouth and his fingers. Quiet gasps, needy moans and pitchy keens all find their way into his awaiting mouth while his stupidly long fingers continue to toy with you. You're so wet that you can feel it dripping onto your thighs and, you're sure his fingers are thoroughly coated in it too. A thought that prompts you to kiss him harder and impatiently tug at one of the causes of all of this madness in the first place.

“Off,” you impatiently demand against his plump lips, shoving his shirt up his slick torso. His responding laugh is obnoxious but he does oblige your request without much fanfare. Tugging off his shirt and discarding it somewhere on your kitchen floor. Honestly, you're not sure what's worse: when the stupid shirt was clinging to him or having his bare, sweaty chest right there for you to have your way with. Fuck. You should ask him to drop by after his workouts more often. Raw, carnal desire propels you forward. Pulling him into a kiss that's more spit and teeth than anything. Delighting in the hardness you can feel prodding at your stomach and the groans of pleasure that spill from him while you tug on his damp locks. While this is nice, you have other plans in mind.

You've probably explored his body hundreds of times at this point but, you don't think you'll ever grow tired of feeling the way he reacts to your every touch. Smiling into his lips when his muscles jump underneath your fingertips. Your walls fluttering around nothing when his whimpers hit your eardrums as you tease his sensitive nipples. Burning every part of him you can into your memory all over again. Fingers mapping paths they've travelled thousands of times before but, it never quite feels like enough. This time around, he's the first one to pull away for air. Your kitchen is filled with nothing but the sounds of your respective laboured breathing and the habitual drones from your various appliances.

Your mouth finds his throat and the salty taste of his skin shoots straight to your clit. Hyunjin is a sweaty man. This isn't a secret. However, you're not sure what's changed so drastically today that makes his sweat almost an aphrodisiac to you. You find yourself chasing as much of his taste as you can. Licking his neck until it's a mess of spit and sweat while your skilled hands hurriedly pull at the waistband of his sweats. Whether it's because he's just as lost in all of this as you are or because he wants you to, he doesn't stop you from pooling his sweats and boxers around his thighs. He's scorching, slick and hard in the palm of your hand.

It's a delirious feeling the way he quivers beneath your every touch. His pulse jumping underneath your tongue with every lazy stroke you give him. He doesn't let you touch him like this as often as you'd like. He's giving and so deeply focused on your pleasure to a fault so, you always savour moments like this whenever they arise. Mouthing at his neck and toying with cock just further stoke the flames of arousal lashing at your gut but, it's not enough.

An idea springs to your mind and your pussy throbs just thinking about it.

Thankfully, Hyunjin is too distracted with trying to fuck your hand and paw at your ass to notice anything is going on until you're on your knees. The floor is cold and you can already tell your knees are going to hurt later but, you can't bring yourself to care when he gives you a look that's equal parts confusion and lust. It's so fucking unfair that he still manages to look so cute while his cock is centimetres from your face and your hand is covered in him.

“What–” his question is cut off by a strangled moan of your name when you take him down your throat as far as you can. Not unlike Hyunjin, you're quite the romantic yourself. Typically you'd paint his torso and hips with kisses before teasing him with licks until he's begging you to suck him off properly.

Today isn't a typical day.

Pride swells up inside of you when he leans against your counter for support with a whispered ‘fuck.’ The brief discomfort you feel from his tip nudging the back of your throat is so worth it. You probably took too much of him too fast but, you don't care. You feel like a woman possessed right now. Your hand continues to stroke what you can't fit into your mouth and his taste causes more of your wetness to gush out of you. He always tastes so good, so him but, this is something else. You're sure if this was a hentai, your pupils would be in the shape of hearts right now. You wonder if he'd be grossed out by you asking him not to shower immediately after the gym and his dance classes anymore. Probably.

One of his hands finds its way to your hair when the sounds (and likely sensations) of you gagging on his cock are too much. You manage to blink up at him through your wet lashes (when did you start crying?) and the look in his face worsens the mess between your thighs. Even from here, you can see how almost black his eyes are. A pretty blush dusting across his face that would look endearing if he didn't look like he wanted to fuck you within an inch of your life. He maintains your eye contact as he shallowly starts to thrust into your mouth. Bruised lips parting to let out curses and groans but, his eyes remain completely locked onto you. Watching for any signs of discomfort or him going too far as his hips gradually pick up speed.

It's hard to breathe but, you push that to the back of your mind for now. Focusing on relaxing your throat as much as you can so he can fuck it thoroughly. Your face is a mess of tears, spit and pre-cum but, he's still looking at you like you're the most gorgeous person in the world to him. Maybe you are a little insane about him because what rational person thinks about how much they love their boyfriend while he's throatfucking them?

It takes you a second to notice him slowing down his pace until he stops completely. Before you can shoot him a questioning look, he's easing himself out of your mouth and a noise of frustration escapes you before you can stop yourself. His laugh, like always, is music to your ears and that coupled with the way he plays with your hair for a bit acts as a balm for your brief irritation. Still, your confusion must be written clear as day even as he helps you to your feet because he says, “Was getting close. Didn't wanna cum in your mouth.”

Driven by the painful pulse between your thighs, you drag him into another kiss. The knowledge that he's tasting himself on your tongue is so fucking hot that think you've finally, well and truly, reached the end of rope.

“Jin-Jinnie,” you gasp against his mouth, fingernails desperately clawing at his shoulders, “I ah need you to fuck me, please. Need to feel you,” you rush out in a single breath that you're not even sure he heard you. However, based on the way he practically hoists you onto your counter and ruts his cock into your thigh, he heard you just fine.

“Didn't even get to get you ready,” he complains, his massive hands spreading your thighs for him to easily slot himself between. Your breath stutters in your chest when his fingers stroke your swollen, dripping core and it's especially hard to remember how to breathe when they ghost over your clit. “Didn't even get to taste this pretty pussy,” he whines against your cheek, pressing his nose to your skin while his fingers inch closer to your entrance.

You need to stop him now otherwise you're going to wind up with his face between your thighs for like three hours like last time. And as mind-blowing as that was, you really just want his cock right now.

“Later, Jinnie, okay?” You assure him, grabbing his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. It's hard to focus when he looks at you like that but, you persist, “You can eat me out all you want later,” it does do fantastic things for your ego watching the way his eyes glaze over at the offer, “but, right now I really just want your cock, please.”

“You're so unfair,” he groans before doing his best to devour you with his full, gorgeous lips. His hands keep your thighs spread for him, gripping them so harshly that you wouldn't be shocked if you had fresh bruises decorating your skin later. 'Seriously, when did he get so strong?' you wonder briefly before you feel him sinking into you. Granted, you did quite literally beg him for this but, it still takes you a few, very long moments to remember how to breathe while he lets you feel every inch of him. You're more than wet enough. That's not the problem here. It's just so much feeling him balls deep inside of you. All you can think to do is claw at his biceps while you try to gather yourself and adjust to the stretch and the sudden, toe-curling fullness.

“So good, so tight,” he moans when he pulls away for some air, focusing his attention on lapping at your throat while his hands fondle as much of your thighs as he can reach. His thrusts start out without an ounce of mercy. The snaps of his hips are precise, deadly and meant to brush against that spot inside of you that always makes you see stars and feel lightheaded with every thrust. It's filthy, frankly. The noises of his skin slapping against yours echoing throughout your kitchen. Your shared, shaky breaths and broken moans adding tension to the familiar knot you can feel tightening in the pit of your stomach.

Blinking your eyes opening, you're met with the sight of his inky hair sticking to his damp forehead and sweat dripping down his handsome face while he watches himself thrust into you, totally transfixed. Impatient hands tugging your shirt out of the way as much as possible so he can watch the way your tits move with every stroke too. You'd laugh at his ever present fixation on your tits if you weren't so keyed up and unbearably close. Clued in either by your watery whimpers or your walls trying their best to milk him dry, Hyunjin drags you as close to the edge as he comfortably can. Pulling you impossibly close to him, right into his sweat covered chest and further onto his stupidly long cock. It's so much, too much being pressed directly into the cause of all of this in the first place. His scent is all encompassing and zipping straight from your nostrils to the apex of your thighs, more of your arousal gushing onto him.

You nearly jump when his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing quick circular motions just the way he knows you like it, his mouth finding its way to your ear, “You're so close, aren't you, baby?” He whispers, adding pressure with his fingers for good measure while his pace doesn't falter in the slightest, “Gonna cum for me? Wanna cum for me? Don't you? Cum all over this cock that you've been begging for. That you sucked off like a good girl–”

All you see is white after that. Your entire body seizing up so intensely that for a fleeting moment you're worried about how deeply your nails are digging into his skin. Hyunjin doesn't seem to care, though. Not even a little bit. Muttering what you manage to briefly catch are praises and moans of your name while he continues to fuck you through your climax. Tears prick the corners of your eyes while you ride out the waves and Hyunjin seeks out his own release from your spasming walls. You can tell from the way he twitches non-stop inside of you to the increase in his whines that he's growing close. One final, brutal snap of his hips is all it takes for him to sheath himself inside of you and fill you with his warm cum. His broken moans pressed into the hollow of your neck while he cums and cums and cums.

You let him lean against you while he takes a few minutes to compose himself and come back down to Earth. Truthfully, you're not faring much better but, at least you have a counter and an apparent gymrat of a boyfriend to help steady you. He hums appreciatively into your skin when you start playing with his hair and drawing nonsensical patterns into his back.

You're not sure how much time passes, could be five minutes, could be forty but, eventually he starts to pull out of you. This is easily your least favourite part and you can't help the unpleasant shudder that runs down your back once he's completely out. However, you know you need to pee and you both definitely need to take a shower so you don't begrudge him for getting the ball rolling. At least, that's what you thought was going to happen so, when he drops to his knees, you're left baffled and look at him totally puzzled.

“What–”

“You did say I could eat you out all I want later, didn't you?”

This man is going to be the death of you.

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Stray Kids Masterlist | Ko-Fi

How To Ruin Designer - Hwang Hyunjin

Masterlist

pairing: idol Versace prince Hyunjin x afab reader

wc: 1.7k

type: requested. Smut with little plot.

warnings: mention of alcohol consumption, fingering (f. rec), unprotected, anal play, foot play, anal penetration (f. rec), squirting. MDNI! I think that’s it?

not proof-read

a/n: This was inspired by when Hyunjin admitted he was drunk at the Versace after party. Rewatching those clips were so much funnier after finding that out 💀

Enjoy lovelies!

There was a feather light tickle on the crown of your head that made your eyes flutter open. It was Hyunjin peacefully sleeping, his chest pressed against your back and his face buried in your hair. The sun made your vision a little blurred as you came to, the memories from last night flooding back. You were still in last night’s dress, it being tight and uncomfortable to sleep in, but you looked stunning according to everyone else at the event. The after party left you and Hyunjin more than a little buzzed which explains being mostly clothed and barely making it to the bed last night. You rubbed the heel of your palms to your eyes as if wiping the remaining sleep from your face.

You went to move, but halted once Hyunjin groaned and pulled you closer. As tempting as it sounds to stay in bed with your beloved all day, you felt an overwhelming need to get out of last night’s dress and shower. If you were uncomfy, you could only imagine how restricted Hyunjin felt in his tight leather pants.

You went to move again then froze instantly, your butt pressed against something hard. Oh, that’s right… he didn’t feel all that restricted because his pants were halfway down his thighs. Your dress was halfway above your butt, and you could feel the tip of his hardened cock peek through the waistband of his boxers. No wonder you felt like your panties were out of place. You both may have been drunk last night but that definitely didn’t stop either of you from getting in a quick session before passing out.

With your cheeks thoroughly blushing, you tried once more to untangle yourself from your boyfriend’s form, “no leaving.” You startled at his gravely morning voice. When did he even wake up? “Hyune, I just want to get out of these clothes. I feel gross.” You immediately felt his hands slip along your back to reach the zipper of the dress, “what are you doing?” you inquired.

“What does it look like? You want it off so we’re getting it off.” He said matter-of-factly. You could practically hear the side-eye in his voice. “Well I wanted to take a shower too,” you murmured while scooting your way off the bed. His hands grabbed either side of your hips and pulled you back so forcefully that your upper back was flush with his toned chest. “I told you, no leaving. We can shower later, my love.” He mumbled with his lips kissing along your exposed back.

You couldn’t help the little moan that escaped once his lips made contact with your exposed skin. Your body was always more sensitive the morning after a night out. Maybe it was because of all the adrenaline previously rushing through your veins? Nevermind that, Hyunjin was making himself busy rubbing his hands down your hips to the front of your thighs, then snaking them up under your hiked dress.

“Jinnie, we can’t.. I’m still sore,” you weakly protested. Thighs snapping closed to shut out his hand, the action making him groan. “C’mon doll, ya know I can make you feel better. Wouldn’t you like that baby? I promise I’ll be gentle.” His voice was like velvet, so deep yet so smooth in the mornings. You’d do anything he says when he talks to you in that voice; well you would do anything for him regardless, but that’s beside the point. “Open up for me… that’s it,” he praised as you barely spread your legs for him to allow access for his slender fingers to reach that sweet cunt of yours.

Hyunjin’s touch was feather light as he ran his fingertips through your slick folds. Some of his cum from last night had leaked out of your entrance allowing his movements to be even more slippery than usual. “Fuck- Hyune,” you gasped once his middle and ring finger breached inside your walls. “Mmh?” He groaned as if asking a silent question while kissing along the curve of your waist, his tongue poking out of his mouth to trace your form. Hyunjin’s fingers repeatedly delved into your fluttering pussy in time with the languid strokes he circled onto your clit with his thumb. “T-too sensitive,” it came out as a whine. “I know baby, I know.” He marked each word with a kiss.

The hand that wasn’t working your core was free to push up your dress even further. The pesky piece of clothing getting in the way of your lover's next goal: your ass. Once exposed, Hyunjin sunk his teeth into the supple flesh causing your back to arch and your legs to kick. You took the opportunity to place the sole of your foot directly on his hard leaky tip. He hissed as he grinded his hardened length into your heel, the friction making his eyes roll back temporarily.

Even during his humping of your foot his hands never stopped their mission in pleasuring your body. He curved his fingers that were in your heat to massage that spongey spot that drove you wild and pushing you closer to the edge, “ah g’na cum p-please~” you bit your lip to keep from screaming. “Yeah? Go on, doll. Cum on my fingers,” Hyunjin pistoned his digits at a steady pace, but what sent you over the edge was the feeling of his warm wet tongue pressing against your tight rim. Your orgasm washed over you thoroughly causing a scream to rip from your throat and juices to gush into his palm.

“So fucking good, love.” He said with his tongue still lapping at your puckered hole, but you didn’t quite hear him because your head was in the clouds and your body seemed to turn into putty in Hyunjin’s hands. You hadn’t even noticed when he stopped and moved your body down so your butt pressed along his solid cock. The humping he did on your foot earlier had caused his boxers to fall further off his hips, now he had full access to you. Hyunjin’s heavy breath mirrored your own as he ran his member through your still gushing pussy. Every few strokes the tip would catch on your entrance causing your breath to hitch. You thought he’d eventually push in to your clenching heat, but he had other ideas.

Once his cock was thoroughly wetted he lined himself up, “babe, no please.. it’s still sore,” you pleaded half-heartedly. Hyunjin let out a snort, “won’t be the only thing that’s sore, baby.” You could hear the smirk in his voice and before you could grasp what he meant, it was too late. The end of his cock breached your other hole, making the both of you moan in unison. It’s not like this was the first time you and Hyunjin had done anal, but it was the first time you had done it with little to no prep. Regardless, you were very accustomed to Hyunjin’s dick and he knew your body would be able to adjust fine; that’s just the kind of trust you had in each other. Plus, you had an established safe word if it was actually too much.

“So damn tight, doll- fuck,” he groaned while sinking ever so slowly into your second entrance. You squealed as his cock filled you so well, anytime he was fully seated inside you your brain and body felt nothing but burning pleasure. Hyunjin was such a romantic that every time you both got intimate with each other the passion would be off the charts. He grabbed your chin, turning you back to connect your lips. Once adjusted to his full length you began circling your hips, Hyunjin swallowed every moan you let out.

Hyunjin lifted your top leg placing it back on his hip then used the same fingers that previously pumped your pussy to rub at your bundle of nerves. He started pulling his pelvis back to pump into your tightness and match your pace. Wet skin smacking echoed throughout the room along with his grunts, the sounds of sloppily making out, and your muffled moans. Each time you’d fully connect he could feel your ass jiggle on his lower abdomen and somehow that’s what drove him feral.

Hyunjin picked up the pace chasing his high while still drawing messy circles on your clit. You pulled away slightly from his mouth, still close enough to breathe each other’s air while whining louder at his assault on your tight hole. “H-hyune, baby slow d-down,” you whimpered. You reached a hand back to lightly push at his lower abdominals to tell him to ease up but really you didn’t want him to slow down. He knew you didn’t because you were so close and he could tell. “But you’re taking me so well. I know you wanna cum, baby. You always cum so hard when I fuck your sweet tight ass.” He stated with a rough smack to your butt then gripped it firmly. His other hand that was circling your clit slapped your wet pussy over and over again making your body ever closer to snapping.

As if on queue your body shivered and white hot pleasure enveloped your senses causing both of your holes to flutter and clench. The spanks to your clit making you squirt. You heard Hyunjin groaning behind you as he released, flooding your ass with his cum. Hyunjin hid his face in your neck to catch his breath before moving. Your body was still shaking with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Both of you are covered in sweat.

A few minutes pass and his cock softens enough to pull out without causing much fuss. Hyunjin looks at where you two were previously connected and takes in the mess you two have made. “I don’t think Versace is going to want these pants back,” he chuckled and you were mortified once you saw that your juices had not only soaked the bed but also the designer pants your boyfriend was half wearing. “Why didn’t you take him off?!” He shrugged, “not my fault I get hypnotized by my incredibly attractive muse.” You facepalmed as your blush gave away your utter embarrassment.

How were you two supposed to explain this? Oops sorry, we got kinda carried away this morning and got cum all over your super expensive designer clothes. Yeah, right.

During your inner turmoil you didn’t notice Hyunjin get out of bed. He was now standing in front of you with his hand outstretched.

“How ‘bout that shower now, hm?”

Taglist: @doitforbangchan @jehhskz

04. sharing a bed series ; skz ; hyunjin

masterlist.

sharing a bed series part 4/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: sexual content. friends2lovers, sharing a bed trope. penetrative sex n the pull out method lol. also hyunjin n reader were drugged the night before, premise is based around them getting married in vegas under the influence and not remembering how it happened in the morning. drama llama antics ensue.

-

Hyunjin has the heart of a sentimental corvid; he loves his people, but he’s weird and sneaky about it.  His propensity for dramatics is only in certain situations and the rest of the time he is quiet and tends to balk at grand displays.   He definitely does not like cuddling or hugging.  He will only begrudgingly suffer through it when his more physically affectionate friends get the bright idea to attack him with their loving arms. 

So you are wildly confused when you wake up in your hotel room with Hyunjin plastered to you, hugging you so tightly that you are halfway convinced he glued himself there.  His chin is nestled on your shoulder, his breath coming softly against your neck.  The hood of his grey sweatshirt is pulled over his head but some of his long blonde hair still falls on your face.  You blow at it unsuccessfully, getting some in your eye.  He holds you tighter.   

What the hell?

You arrived in Las Vegas yesterday and while most of last night is a foggy blur, you do remember the room had two twin beds.  Sure enough, there is a second bed just a few feet from yours, the covers completely untouched.  The neatly made bed is a stark contrast to the mess of your bed: the duvet sliding off the foot, the pillows on the floor, the bedding partially untucked.  All the sheets are wrapped around your body like a cocoon while a shivering Hyunjin clings to you, presumably for warmth.    

You try to roll over but your bedsheet-burrito has you trapped, never mind Hyunjin’s death grip of a spoon. 

“Hyunjin,” you whisper.  “I can’t breathe.”

He grumbles and squeezes you, making you squeak.

“Hyunjin,” you say, a bit louder.  “Wake up.”

He groans in his sleep and buries his face further in your neck.  His nuzzling sends shivers shooting down your spine. 

“Hyunjin.”  It comes out like a croak.   You try wriggling your shoulders.  “Hyunjin, wake up!” 

He makes a disgruntled sound but doesn’t move.

“Oh my god,” you say.  “How are you such a bitch even when sleeping? Wake up!” 

When he stays sleeping, you are forced to take drastic action.  You turn your face and blow, hard.   His face scrunches up and he finally stirs. 

“Ew,” he says, slowly blinking his eyes open.  His mouth draws into a sour pout, his brow tight.  “Stop.  Your breath is so disgusting.”

“Ahem.”

He makes a fist and rubs his eyes.   His dark brows are still furrowed but there is modicum of clarity when he looks at you.  It takes a minute to fully register your proximity, his eyes flicking here and there.  Finally, they open wide.  

With remarkable speed, Sleepy Hyunjin concedes leeway to Drama Queen Hyunjin.   He mewls like a frightened cat, ripping away so quickly that it knocks the air out of you with an oof. 

“What—” he starts.

He is interrupted when his thrashing makes him slide.  You are still bundled in your bedsheet-prison and can only watch as the clumsy oaf slides backwards right off the bed.  All those long limbs make a frantic windmill as he shrieks on his way down, hitting the floor with a heavy crash and groan. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“Ugh,” he replies.   “My head.”

“Are you dying?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.  Well, when you’re done, come help me.”

His hand appears first, thumping onto the messy bed.  His head follows with an exhausted peek over the mattress.  His hood has fallen back and his long hair is infuriatingly neat considering everything.  Hyunjin is so beautiful that it is ridiculous.  All he does is run his long fingers through his hair, shake his head a little, and he looks picture perfect. 

“You’re staring,” he says with a scowl. 

“It’s because you’re so ugly,” you say. 

“Liar,” he says.  He makes a V with his fingers and licks between them.  “I’m sexy and you love me.” 

He is correct, so it is only natural that you try biting him.    

You chomp at him when he approaches, threatening to bite his fingers when they get too close to your face.  He pinches your nose between two knuckles and squeezes.

“Hyunjiiiiin, staaawp,” you say in a nasally whine.

He does, but only after playfully snapping his own jaws in your direction. 

“I should just leave you here and have a peaceful day,” he says.

“I’ll kill you and bury you in the desert.”

“Gross.  Can’t you bury me on the strip?”

“I’m gonna feed your carcass to some desert scorpions.”

“Ew.” 

It takes some effort, but Hyunjin manages to find where your blanket-burrito starts.  He grabs it and tugs like the annoying bimbo he is.  Your protest comes too late and he whips the blanket open, sending you flying off the bed.  You land with a heavy thud of your own. 

“Oops,” he says.  He rustles through the sheets to peer over the edge of the bed.  “Are you okaaaa—whaaaat are you wearing?”

You were already dizzy before Hyunjin decided to throw you around like a human tennis ball, but now it’s even worse. 

You have no idea what happened last night but it clearly involved a hit of something way, way, way stronger than usual.  It takes you a minute to come back to reality.  After shaking your head a few times, you are able to push yourself into a sitting position.  You finally look down.

You freeze. 

“Hyunjin,” you say.  “What the fuck am I wearing?”

“That’s what I just—”

“Hyunjin.  What the fuck am I wearing?!”

It is an utterly useless question because it is abundantly obvious that you are wearing a wedding dress.   A big, poofy, princess wedding dress with giant puffed up 1980s sleeves and enough cleavage on display that Hyunjin almost falls off the bed because he is tilting his head so much. 

You yank up the skirt as if that will offer any answers.  You find a pair of white stockings, one still neatly clipped to a thigh garter and the other halfway down your calf.   You stare at that stocking for a long moment, the vaguest recollection of something fighting its way through the fog of your druggy, drunk memory.   

“Uh,” Hyunjin says. 

You look up at him but his eyes are downturned to his own wrist.  You look there, your own eyes widening when you see what he sees. 

Your missing garter is looped around his wrist like a silky white bracelet. 

An image comes flooding back.  The periphery is still in smog, but you distinctly remember Hyunjin kneeling in front of you, gathering his long hair into a ponytail as he smirked up at you.  You remember him lifting your skirt, his head disappearing under the pile of white lace. 

You look at each other at the same time.  Did he just have the same memory?  Does he remember more?  You have no idea and you can’t bring yourself to ask.  Your voice is shot to hell, swallowed up by the heart that seems to have jumped into your throat.   

The silence is tense.  It is hotter than the desert in here. 

“We didn’t…?” he finally says, pointing between the two of you. 

“No way,” you say.  It sounds very uncertain. 

He lifts his other hand to tuck some hair behind his ears.  That’s when you see it.  Hyunjin wears so many rings so often that you completely missed it at first.   But right now his hands are bare save for one unfamiliar ring in a very particular spot. 

Hyunjin follows the trajectory of your horrified gaze and freezes when he spots the wedding ring.  He slaps a hand over his mouth, his eyebrows shooting up his forehead. 

“Oh my god,” you say.  You are afraid to check your own hand but it is imperative.   Hyunjin looks at you, his shocked hand still covering his mouth.  Together, you watch as your hand shakily rises out of the pile of white princess lace. 

There is a wedding ring on your finger too. 

You and Hyunjin scream at the same time, him clapping both hands over his ears as he hollers and you shaking your head and kicking your feet.  After your mini-freak out, you wave your hands to silence him.

“Stop, stop!” you say.  “It’s okay.  Be calm.  Be quiet.  This is okay.”

“We got married,” he wails, dragging his fingers down his face.  “My mom is gonna kill me.” 

“Your mom?  YOUR MOM?  Hyunjin, I’m gonna kill you before you even leave this city, so don’t fucking worry about your mom.”  You mime throttling him because he is too far to reach. 

Hyunjin flops down on the bed.  He lays on his back with his arms folded like he is ready to be mummified. 

“Oh my gawd,” he says.  “Oh my gawwwd…”

“Look, we might not have even done it,” you say.  It takes a lot of effort and you fall on your ass twice, but you manage to stagger ungracefully to your feet.  “Some rings and a dress don’t mean anything.  We were probably just goofing around.  What do you remember?” 

He is still in a mummification pose, his eyes closed.   

“Nothing,” he says.  He frowns.  “No, wait.  You were hitting on some ugly bitch of a man and didn’t listen to me, as usual, and the loser put something in your drink so I drank it to prove a point.  But then you still drank it because you’re the worst, and I dragged you out of there.”  He covers his face with both hands.  “Then we got married and ruined our lives.” 

“Okay, the last part you don’t know for sure,” you say.  You stumble around the bed.  “I’m gonna go wash up and clear my head and sort this out, because there’s no way we—”  You stop when you spy something sitting on the television stand.  It takes a few clumsy steps to reach, but you get there.

“Uh oh,” you say.

“Is that a marriage certificate?”  Hyunjin asks.

“No.”

“Are you lying to me?”

“Yes.” 

“Cool.”  He rolls over so he is facedown on the bed, his voice muffled by the messy blankets.  “I love this.”

“I’m gonna… go… wash up still,” you stay.  You sigh and gather up your dress to stomp over to the bathroom door. 

“Brush your teeth,” Hyunjin says.  “Your breath is gross.” 

“I hope you suffocate over there and make me a widow.”  You close the door with a pointed shove. 

You want to disobey him on principle, but there is a truly nasty taste in your mouth so you brush your teeth before anything else.  You avoid your reflection for as long as possible because the crazed madwoman in the mirror is a terrifying sight to behold. 

You reckon with her monstrous appearance eventually, tidying up as best you can.   You remove the stockings and garter, gulping when the memory returns.  You splash a lot of cold water on your face and it helps ground you. 

Just as you begin to feel cleansed, you feel an itch on your throat.  You crane your neck and tentatively touch the sensitive indentation, the raised bruising of a hickey.   Touching it awakens another memory, one that strikes hot at your core. 

Hyunjin.  You.  This hotel room.  He pressed you against the door and caged you in, forearms on either of your head.  Despite his presence looming over you, you did not feel nervous.   You touched him as if that intimacy was something you always shared.  You remember him cupping your face in one hand and turning your head, him kissing you softly on your temple and cheek, him breathing lightly over your throat before sucking a hard kiss under your jaw.  He was all teeth and tongue, drawing moans out of you while you bucked against him.   You remember him grinding against you, remember him pinning you to the door.   You remember stringing your arms around his neck and him picking you up, then it all goes black again.   

You turn away from the mirror, still holding your neck. 

Did you… no.

Did you?

No.

You didn’t fuck Hyunjin.  No way.  You would have remembered that much.  If nothing else, there would be evidence now.  A used condom or a mess somewhere, a twinge between your legs.  You are both fully dressed.  You even have underwear on.  It’s not the underwear you were wearing when you first left the hotel room, but it is underwear nonetheless. 

One thing is certain; you did not go that far. He took a bite out of you and carried you to the bed where you probably passed out.  How you got into a blanket-burrito, you are not sure, but at least it protected your dignity.  Whatever was left of it, at least. 

You step out of the bathroom only to walk straight into a pacing Hyunjin.   You bonk heads and cuss each other out, swatting the other person out of your way. 

He walks over to the bathroom and is about to step inside when you release a sigh. 

“I have a hickey,” you say.   

He pauses in the bathroom doorway. 

“You gave it to me,” you add. 

You cross your arms when he turns around, his gaze suddenly too hard to meet.  You tap your foot and stare at the wall. 

“I know,” he says.  “I remember it.” 

That draws your attention.  You look right at him and plant your hands on your hips. 

“Well, what else do you remember?” you ask. 

“I—I—ugh!  This is so annoying!  Ugh!”  He grabs his head and shakes it like a snow globe. 

His stupid beautiful hair is barely ruffled and he still looks amazing when he surfaces.  He runs his teeth over his plump bottom lip and you suddenly remember him grabbing your face with both hands, him smiling at you as a hot breeze fluttered around you, him holding you steady as he planted a big, wet kiss on you.  It makes your whole body lock with tension, barely paying attention to the Hyunjin in front of you now, the Hyunjin on the verge of a meltdown as he intentionally smacks his head against the doorway. 

“We came back here,” he says.  His whole face is scrunched up with disgust like he just ate something bad.  “Then I gave you that.”  He slaps a hand over his face.  “Then you… tried…”  He puts the other hand on his face too.

“I tried what?” you ask, heat creeping your neck. 

“You put your hand down my pants,” he croaks, hands over his eyes.  “I said we should wait until morning and you started crying.  I think you tried to give me a lap dance while crying, actually.”  That does sound like you, drugged or not.  “Then I…”  He points to the messy bed.  “I wrapped you in the sheet to protect your honour.”   

“My honour?  Ewwww.  Don’t call it that.”

“I’m gonna go drown myself in the shower.” 

“Hyunjin, wait.”

Once more, you stop him before he crosses the door.  He sighs and his shoulders deflate.  Pushing a hand through his hair, he turns around.

“What?” he says. 

“I’ll take care of this, okay,” you say gently.  “We weren’t ourselves.  Thank you… for taking care of me.  Seriously.” 

He sniffs and looks aside, the tips of his ears turning red.  You try to ignore the pitter-patter of your heart.  

“It’s Vegas,” you say.  “I bet they have drive-through divorces.  I’m just… I’m just sorry this happened.” 

“You are?” he says, staring at the ground. 

“Of course,” you say with as much sincerity as you can muster.  “Hyunjin, I know you.  You’re a goofy old romantic.  I’m sure you’re not happy about your first technical marriage happening while you were drugged up, and to someone you don’t even love.  Right?”

He looks a little panicked when he meets your gaze.  It flashes in his eyes for a second, then he looks away.  He crosses his arms protectively over his chest.    

“Hyunjin,” you say.  It feels like someone just lit fireworks in your chest.  “You… don’t… love me, right?” 

There is a long moment of silence then he throws both hands in the air. 

“Why do you say it like that?” he demands.  “Would it be that bad if I did?”

“What.” Your jaw falls open.  “You love me?”   

“Unfortunately, yes.  Sorry for inconveniencing you with my goofy romantic feelings.”  He snarls at you.  “It just happened.  If I could have stopped it, I would have, but I can’t.  So live with it.” 

“What kind of love confession is this?  You’ve watched like a million romance dramas and that’s what you come up with?”

“I’m a painter, not a poet.  Good-bye.”  He is quick this time, jumping into the bathroom and slamming the door closed.   

It leaves you standing there, jaw still hanging open. 

Hyunjin loves you. 

Of course Hyunjin loves you.  How could you be so stupid?  All this time, you had yourself convinced your best friend was unattainable because he’s the most gorgeous creature on earth, but all this time he loved you and you didn’t even notice.   He drank a drugged drink just to protect you.  He got a bit nutty in the head and married you, but even at his most fucked up, some intrinsic part of him sprung to your defense.  No matter how out of his mind, he couldn’t bring himself to do anything that could potentially hurt you. 

Oh my god.  

Hyunjin loves you.  You love Hyunjin. 

You are pacing when Hyunjin exits the bathroom and smacks into you.  You bonk heads and curse, again, then he brushes past without saying anything more.  You watch him go to the clean bed, watch him fold back the covers.   He takes off his hoodie and his pants.  Despite how many times you have casually dressed down around each other, this time you find yourself looking away, hot in the face.   When you look back, he is in a t-shirt and his boxers, sliding under the covers. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, fiddling with your thumbs.

“Going back to sleep,” he says.  “I’m tired.”  

He doesn’t look at you once.  He rolls onto his side and faces the wall, laying stiff as a board. 

You touch a finger to the mark on your neck and shiver.

“Hyunjin,” you say, to which he just grunts in reply.  “I want to sleep too.  I’m sorry, but can you help me with the dress?” 

He exhales and closes his eyes, shoulders dropping, but then he flips the covers down and gets out of bed.   He still doesn’t meet your gaze.   His strides are long and quick and, before you can blink, he is in front of you. 

You open your mouth to speak but he grabs you and spins you around.  It feels like an electric zap from your heart to your pussy, hands instinctively clutching your chest in surprise. 

You can feel him fiddling with a few buttons, muttering expletives to himself.   

He is still wearing the ring.  So are you. 

“Hyunjin,” you say softly.  “I love you too.” 

He has his fingers on the zipper.  He stops. 

“What?” he asks.  He stops touching you entirely so you look back at him.  He is tucking hair behind both ears, shaking his head.  “Don’t just… say it,” he says, still staring sideways.  “That’s worse than not hearing it.” 

“Hyunjin,” you say.  At least he looks at you this time, even if it is with uncharacteristic uncertainty.  You smile at him.  “Unzip me please.” 

You turn back around, chewing on your bottom lip.  

It takes a second, but Hyunjin does what you asked.  You feel one hand on your back, the other circling the zipper.  He tugs it down slowly and you shiver as the cool air conditioned air kisses your back.  His fingers brush your bare skin when releasing the zipper.

“Thank you,” you say, glancing back at him. 

He nods curtly and spins around.  You smile, watching him march back to the bed.   You turn your back to him when you let the dress drop, then you remove your bra.  His open luggage is nearby so you slip a t-shirt out of the suitcase.  It smells like him, his favourite cologne, and that alone gets you hot.  

With a final tug on the hem of the t-shirt, you turn and walk up to the bed he is in.  He is sitting upright but under the covers, his hands folded neatly in his lap while he stares at you. 

“Can I sleep here too?” you ask.  “The other bed is a mess.”

He nods.  A second ago, he refused to look at you and now he can’t stop staring.  It makes you grin, beaming at him as you slide under the covers. 

“You’re staring,” you say. 

“I’m not,” he lies, still staring at you.  He slumps against the headboard and slides down until he is laying flat.  His hair pools around him on the pillow.  Ridiculously gorgeous man. 

You lean over him, staring back.  You rest a hand on his chest and can feel his heart palpitating as quickly as your own. 

“You are staring,” you say, then giggle a little because his expression is still wide-eyed.  “You look like you’ve never seen a woman in bed before, and I know that’s not true.”   

You say it jokingly but he doesn’t laugh.  He tilts his head, his expression softening.  His tongue touches his upper lip then he smiles at you. 

“Not like this,” he says with heart-stopping sincerity.  “Not you.  Not… my wife.” 

Oh god.   People always act like there is something supremely unsexy about wife or husband, some stagnant nothingness that kills sex appeal.  But the second he says that word, it feels like an electric storm ignites between the two of you.   His gaze is dark, his breathing hard, his heart still pounding under your palm.  You suck in a deep breath, a shuddering release.  You are already aching. 

“Hyunjin,” you whisper. 

His hand comes up and cups your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.  It passes over your bottom lip and tugs at it.  It feels like you have a heartbeat between your legs. 

“Fuck,” you say, and swing yourself over him. 

He makes a noise the second you are straddling him, both his hands dropping to hold your hips.   You lean down, your hands on either side of his head.  His eyes are already closed when you start kissing him.  You rock against him, feel him getting harder in his boxers as his hands run up and down your thighs. 

The kiss breaks for a second, just to breathe, and he sighs. 

“Good,” he says.  “You brushed your teeth.”

“You are soooo…”  You try to sound annoyed but it’s impossible.  He laughs, his eyes crinkling with mirth.  “Ughhh, the worst!” 

You roll off him as if you have any intention of denying him, but he doesn’t give you a chance to tease him.   He just follows, rolling on top of you so it’s you pinned under him, the weight of him between your open legs.   He goes right back to kissing you, taking his time, almost torturously slow while pressed so intimately against you.  He licks into your mouth, nips at your bottom lip, steals your breath and comes back for more. 

“Hyunjin.”  You are out of breath.  You grab his face with both hands, gasping against his open mouth. 

“Mm?” he replies, pecking your lips. 

A part of you thinks you could lie in bed all day doing nothing but kiss Hyunjin.  Just a small part.  The rest of you is burning up with the need for much, much more. 

“Make love to me,” you whisper.  His breath stutters.  “Please,” you say.

He nods frantically.  If you weren’t so hazy with want, it might have made you laugh.  As it is, you string your arms around his neck and pull him down for another kiss.  This one gets heated quickly, wet and sloppy and pressed messily to the corner of your mouths, your hands moving over each other, trying to find the hems of your shirts without breaking apart. 

It happens in a frenzy, but you somehow get down to just your underwear.  His boxers land on the lamp and the shirts could have flown out the window for all that you care.  He is laving kisses all over your body and you are so wound up that you get a little teary, arching under him and tugging on his hair. 

“Hyunjin, please,” you say, dragging your nails up his back.  “I need you.”

He looks up at you.  You smile and bite your lower lip.

“I need my husband,” you say.

You are pretty sure you can visibly see his brain short-circuiting.   The next second, he is fully above you, pulling your panties down your hips.  It stays hooked around one ankle but the thought of it leaves your mind quickly.   He slides his hands under your thighs and spreads you open, leaning down to kiss you as he finally eases inside you.   

You both look down at where he inside you.  It feels like your clit is jumping for attention, your whole body shaking when he gently rubs you there while sinking fully in. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” he says, mostly to himself once he fully inside you.  He closes his eyes and breathes a little harder.  “Don’t move,” he says.  He leans down so his chest is against yours, your faces close.  “If you do, this is gonna be over really quickly.”

“Really?” you say with a giggle, pleased he is as unravelled as you. 

He just nods, his eyes still closed.  You kiss his cheek and hold the back of his neck, stroking there lightly and giving him a minute. 

“Feels good,” you say, because it does, even just like this, pressed so tightly together, him so full and hard inside you. 

He just groans, dropping his face to the crook of your neck and shoulder.  You rake your fingers through the hair at his nape when he rocks a testing thrust into you.  You have only just adjusted when those hips starting rocking with fluid determination, rolling steady and deep.  He feels almost impossibly good inside you, driving you into the mattress again and again. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, putting both arms around his neck and clinging tight.  “Hyunjin.”

He just makes noise, unintelligible sounds that make him sound crazy despite how deftly he is moving.  You feel a bit crazy yourself, blinking at him with your mouth open when he lifts his head.   He kisses you, swallowing up your gasping moans, and presses his forehead to yours.  For someone who claimed to be close, he lasts a long time at a steady pace, the subtle, corded muscles of his slender frame holding taut as he moves. 

“Touch yourself,” he says, and kisses you without waiting for an answer. 

You kiss him back, very messily at that, but you do what he said.  You lick your fingertips and slide that shaking hand between your bodies, getting yourself off just seconds before his hips get erratic and he has to pull out.  He strokes himself to completion just over you, coming on your thighs.  He manages to reserve his strength long enough to gather you in his arms and roll over.  He guides you to rest on top of him, your face in his sweaty neck and your rising-and-falling chest against his own. 

“Why haven’t we been doing that for years?” you mumble. 

He laughs, his hand flying to his face to cover his mouth while he giggles.   The ring catches your eye and you reach for that hand.   He gets quiet, watching you. 

You lace your fingers with his, looking at the ring then looking up at him. 

“We’re a little crazy if we stay like this,” you say. 

He leans in and kisses you for so long that you almost forget what you were saying.  You remember when he smiles down at you, when he squeezes your hand, when he leans in and says, “That’s okay.  I like a little crazy.” 

In agreement, you smile back. 

sparks | hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

word count: 2.6k

genre: fantasy au, assassin!hyunjin, enemies to lovers

warnings: restrained and handcuffed reader, mentions of violence and murder, reader and hyunjin are rivals during a war, reader is surprisingly flirtatious for a prisoner

summary:

“You’re an anomaly,” Hyunjin tells you, his lips curling around the word ‘anomaly’ like it’s some kind of insult. “I’ve faced you in combat seven times now-”

“It’s cute that you’ve kept count.”

“-and you still live. That doesn’t happen. Ever.”

When you wake up, you find yourself chained to a chair, manacles digging into your wrists and ankles. You thrash around, panicked for a moment, yanking at the chains, testing how much force they could take.

There’s no give, and as your eyes adjust to the darkness, you register the cold, thick metal of the chair. No amount of struggling could break your way through that.

Short of dislocating every finger you have, or maybe degloving your hand, there’s no way of slipping out of these things.

Fuck.

You slump backwards in defeat.

What now?

더 보기

no nut november — hyunjin (loser #3)

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: no nut november mini series, established relationship, domestic bliss, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, mentions of masturbation/watching porn, mentions of overstimulation, cockwarming, unprotected sex, no nut november as a bet, slight dirty talk, use of names like “pretty boy”, group chat shenanigans

inspo: that video of jinnie fixing his hair with his head thrown back and everyone staring in awe.. you know the one

notes: this is so self indulgent when it was meant to be my gift to @sluttywonwoo lmao. i hope you enjoy the softness of it all, boo! and i hope you feel the joy i felt when writing this <3

banner by @sluttywonwoo

{ wc: 4227 }

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!!” You heard Hyunjin screaming from the next room.

You were in the kitchen trying to make breakfast, following Hyunjin’s mother’s recipe for his favourite breakfast food. He came over to yours after your weekly game night—since most of the rooms at theirs were full anyway, and besides, it gifted you with a peaceful morning. Or so you thought.

Hyunjin came into your kitchen, dancing around in what you assumed was celebration, wearing nothing but his boxers and your old jumper from highschool.

He was dancing around so much, flailing his arms enough that the jumper had started riding up, his happy trail peaking out through the fabric.

You swallowed.

“What happened?” You asked, as casually as you could, focusing on the pan in front of you.

“Jeongin lost!”

To prove his point, he showed you the group chat he had with his friends, in which the youngest retold his story from the night before.

You’d have to congratulate them both for finally being brave enough, you noted.

“Cool,” you said simply.

You weren’t really surprised he was talking about that bet again. It was like it was the only thing he could think about since it started. When he told you about it—all you could was laugh and shake your head.

But then he told you what the stakes were, and only after that did you agree and promise him you’d do your best not to get in his way. If it meant you had a whole weekend of Hyunjin to yourself—then you’d play along with their stupid bet.

Although, it was already driving you crazy.

You knew Hyunjin wasn’t doing it on purpose, it’s not like he could help how gorgeous he was, but he didn’t make your life any easier when he so casually licked his lips after taking a bite from the food.

“Thank you, babe,” he said with a smile before devouring the rest of his plate.

You sighed.

The rest of the day was spent catching up on Hyunjin’s favourite K-Drama. You liked it, but what was better than the show was your boyfriend’s commentary. The gasps, pleading at the characters (as if they could hear him), and calling out the plot twists a few scenes before they were revealed.

“What?” He asked as he caught you smiling at him.

“Nothing,” you grinned, placing your head on his shoulder as you cuddled closer to him.

November 9th

A few days passed since you last got to spend time with your boyfriend. But today you knew you had all night together.

Your roommate went to her girlfriend’s house on Wednesdays and it so happened that that was the day Hyunjin finished work reasonably early.

She was never there to disturb you and your boyfriend had more time and so it always ended up with a sleepover.

From being the day you spent together it had evolved to your self care day—one that Hyunjin happily agreed to participate in with you.

There was only one problem. The stupid bet.

You spent all week waking up from wet dreams. Sometimes they were only about your boyfriend and sometimes they involved other people, too. That’s how you knew it was really bad. You were faithful, even in your dreams, but when other people showed up you knew you were unsatisfied and needy.

Luckily, agreeing to the bet never meant that you weren’t allowed to do anything by yourself—but needless to say, that didn’t quite cut it anymore.

Still, you decided if you were still this horny when he showed up it wouldn’t be fair—you could even class it as sabotage, and so, you took matters into your own hands. What else did you have to help you?

It was still early in the morning, you had the whole day to yourself, and so you opened your phone and logged onto an incognito tab.

Your fingers moved across the keyboard, searching and researching. You tried all your go-to’s, but you knew you were screwed when you were on the third page of the search results and none of the videos were even close to what you wanted.

You wanted Hyunjin.

You even went as far as looking for actors who resembled him—but that was impossible. No one was anywhere near as beautiful as him. You were sure it was cosmically impossible for there to be more than one Hyunjin.

That thought, of course, led you to imagine the impossible scenario of having two of him pleasing you at the same time. Kissing and touching and groping and—

You groaned as you locked your phone.

Desperate times called for desperate measures, and so you unlocked your private file on your phone.

There was only a handful of photos on there and even a few short videos he sent you during the times you were away from each other for too long.

You looked through each one of them carefully, taking your time to appreciate his body, his dick, his face, his moans.

After a few moments of just admiring you got to work, shimming your shorts off your body.

You went on for as long as you could—managing to pull out six orgasms before you had to stop and gulp in some air. It felt empty.

You weren’t nearly as satisfied as you thought you’d be, not to mention, you could only think about the look on your boyfriend’s face if he managed to get you to cum that many times in a row.

You dragged yourself out of bed, washing the sweat and stickiness off you in the shower quickly. You might’ve taken extra time touching your tits—still feeling the need to please yourself however you could—but that was between you and the shampoo bottles.

Once you were ready, hair mask washed off, you made your way into the living room accompanied by your soft lo-fi playlist.

Everything was exactly how you wanted it to be on your day off—curled up on the couch under your fluffy throw blanket.

A few dozen tiktoks later, the door opened, your boyfriend letting himself in with the pair of keys you gave him a few weeks back. He had a clear bag in the other hand—and you could already spot your favourite sweets in there.

“Jinnie!” You exclaimed with a grin, opening your arms in an invitation. You didn’t want to get off the couch just yet and considering your boyfriend was just about to join you anyway he didn’t mind.

“Y/N/N!” He parroted, kicking off his shoes by the door. He quickly put down his keys and the bag, rushing over to you as he skipped from side to side.

“How is my dimples doing today?” You asked after he fell into your arms.

“Tired, but practice was good,” he nodded at you. “Did you move today?”

“A little,” you said, scrunching your nose.

“Your hair smells nice,” he sighed contently, burying his face in your neck.

“I put a mask on it,” you said, touching the now softer locks.

“You started without me?” He gasped.

“I thought it would be best to avoid the shower part together,” you pointed out, eyebrows raised.

Hyunjin hummed at you, nodding in confirmation that you had the right idea.

“I bought those strawberry masks you like, and they were on offer so I got you an extra two to keep. And there was this lip scrub I wanted to try,” Hyunjin said, pointing at the bag on the table with his leg. “My lips are so dry.”

“It’s the weather,” you hummed.

“Or maybe I don’t get enough kisses,” he pouted up at you.

“Kissing makes your lips drier,” you countered.

“False,” he shook his head.

“And the fucking stubble burn makes my chin and lips crack,” you said with a huff.

“I get stubble burn, too,” he raised his eyebrows.

“From what?” You gasped at him.

Hyunjin moved his eyes towards your crotch before looking up at you pointedly.

“Complaining, are we?”

“No! But I’m just saying,” he shrugged.

“And I’m just saying, you haven’t done that in ten days.”

“Why are you counting?” Hyunjin giggled.

“Because there’s nothing left to do,” you sighed dramatically.

“Oh, shut up,” he chuckled. At that he lifted himself off your body, easily making his way into the kitchen.

“Do you want peppermint tea or camomile?”

“Peppermint please,” you grinned at him, getting up.

“No, no, where are you going?” He stopped you with his hand up in the air.

“To get the hairbands?” You said, matter of fact.

There was a very clear routine in place, familiar, and you were simply following it.

“You, sit. I am man, man gets hairbands. Man makes tea.”

“Okay, man,” you rolled your eyes. But you snuggled deeper into your blanket nonetheless.

Soon Hyunjin offered you the warm cup of tea before he skipped over to your room to grab your matching pink hairbands. They had bear ears attached to them, and Hyunjin smiled softly to himself as he pushed the plush fabric up to his hairline. He plopped yours over your head (he knew it was yours since it had your foundation colour on it, stains that wouldn’t come off no matter how many times you washed it) and helped you push it up past your forehead.

After that he grabbed the edge of your blanket and frappes it over his legs.

Then he grabbed your phone, opened it easily since the passcode was your anniversary, and started queuing songs on your spotify.

It was all as it should be.

Once the tea was finished—Hyunjin telling you all about the drama unfolding between the new trainees in the studio across from theirs—you both put your mugs to the side.

“Am I allowed to get the masks?” You asked with a raise of your brows.

“Nope,” he grinned, jumping up and running towards the bag. As if you were gonna race him.

He plopped back down on the couch, bag in hand, and unloaded its contents. First, the strawberry face masks, and then the lip scrub, and then your sweets, and then some cherry flavoured lip balm, and then a new body lotion that “even has glitter in it!” and then a replacement of your moisturiser that Hyunjin may or may not have stolen from you.

“Anything else?” You joked as you looked down at the loot in your lap.

“Is there something missing? I can go out and—“

“Calm down, Jinnie,” you laughed, placing your hands on his forearms, “what’s up with you today?”

“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I just wanna make sure you have a nice relaxing day.”

You nodded.

“Are you having a relaxing day?” You double checked.

He nodded.

“Okay,” you agreed. “You first.”

You handed him the mask, offering your face over to him.

He wiped your face with micellar water and a cotton pad before slowly and delicately placing the mask on your face. After tapping around it a few times to make sure it was stuck on properly, and bopping your nose for his own amusement, Hyunjin announced he was done. You opened your eyes and grabbed the second mask, applying it to his beautiful face.

You let the masks set for twenty minutes—enough time for you to tell Hyunjin all about your plans for your sister’s birthday—and once you peeled them off and washed your faces it was time for the lip scrub.

Hyunjin grabbed “the wand”, as he called it, and scooped up a generous amount of the scrub before grabbing your chin.

You focused on his face as he spread the small grains over your lips—his eyes zeroed in on them. Your heart started beating faster as you felt a wetness pooling in your underwear at the attention he was giving you. You took in a deep breath.

“You’re too far away,” he muttered to himself, scooting closer. He grabbed your thighs, pulling himself towards you, then lifted your shins to place them on either side of his body.

You could easily place your forehead on his, and so you did.

“Close enough?” You whispered.

“Could never be close enough,” he shook his head simply. You scooted closer still, your hands settled on his thighs, smiling at him.

He grabbed your chin again, angling your face so he could scrub the product onto your lips.

Hyunjin puckered his lips at you, eyebrows raised. So you leaned in closer and kissed his lips.

“No,” he giggled, “pucker them.”

“Oh,” you giggled back, following his instructions as your eyes settled on how adorable he looked while he concentrated on his task. And, as much as you tried not to focus on it, you took a moment to realise the intense stare he held on your lips was accompanied by a fluttering in your pussy you tried so hard to ignore.

As Hyunjin moved the product on your lips in circular motions, you instinctively moved your hands up his thigh, playing with the string on his sweats casually.

Hyunjin swallowed visibly.

“Um,” he started, voice cracking lightly, “did you want to be closer?”

“Jinnie, I really don’t think that’s possible,” you said slowly, trying not to move your lips too much as you spoke.

“I mean like, uh, maybe I can be inside you?” He offered, avoiding your eyes completely as he looked around himself for a cotton pad to take off the excess product with.

“Uh,” you let out, feeling your heart race at his suggestion. “Well, that would definitely make us closer.”

Hyunjin nodded as he wiped your lips. “But are you sure? I mean, the bet.”

“Not like that,” he shook his head, “just to be close.”

“No moving?” You tried to confirm.

“If you want.” He handed you the products casually, keeping the routine going—even if the conversation was suggesting something entirely out of the ordinary.

You looked down at the small empty space between your bodies. You could very clearly see the outline of his erection through his grey sweats.

You licked your lips, tasting the coconut on them, noticing how soft they were.

Hyunjin was studying your face, the way your eyes moved from his lap to his lips a few times before you nodded.

“I don’t want to lose though,” you said, even though you didn’t really mean it that much. Sure, the prize was a very good one, but at this point you were starting to care a whole lot less about it.

“I miss you,” your boyfriend said, rubbing your shoulder softly.

You chuckled as you waved at him. “Hi!”

“I know,” he rolled his eyes, squeezing at your bicep, “I miss being close, I mean.”

“I would love to, if you think it’s okay,” Hyunjin grinned, “but we aren’t done with our skin care.”

“Of course,” he nodded seriously, “we can keep going like that.”

You smiled before shifting around to slip your shorts and underwear off.

“Do we need to warm you up or—“

“—no,” you scoffed, pulling on the knot tied on Hyunjin’s sweats. He laughed.

“Are you wet enough?”

“I came six times today,” you said casually, pulling his dick out of his boxers, “I’ve been wet since the morning.”

“Six?” He gulped, a small twang of jealousy in his voice. You weren’t sure if that was to do with the fact you got to cum or that he wasn’t involved in it. It was probably a bit of both, you thought.

You climbed onto his lap, pulling the blanket around yourself to stay warm and slowly with Hyunjin’s hands on your hips helping you sink down onto him, you got into position.

The pair of you let out a few breathy gasps at the almost foreign sensation, realising you both truly missed the feeling of Hyunjin inside you.

After a few small breaths, and a kiss on your shoulder, you grabbed the lip scrub and kept going.

“You’re really fucking wet,” Hyunjin sighed as soon as you wiped the excess product off. He used up every muscle in his body to concentrate on keeping still as you touched his lips—only now putting his thoughts into words. “Did you actually cum six times?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged.

“How?”

You could feel his dick twitching inside you as the words left his mouth.

“Are you sure you want to hear more details?” You cocked up an eyebrow. Hyunjin licked his lips.

“You can tell me if you want,” he said, lowly.

“No,” you chuckled, “I’m not trying to make this any harder for us.”

“Why are you complaining when you got to cum today?” He pouted.

“I’ve been cumming every day this month, actually,” you said simply. Hyunjin thrusted up at that.

“Hey!” You warned him, even if it was undermined by the small moan that you let out beforehand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was just… a hot thing to say.”

“Do I need to get off?” You asked seriously, giving him a pointed look before applying some lip balm on his beautifully plush kissable lips.

“No, no, no,” he insisted, “stay close.”

After he applied lip balm to your lips, the pair of you shared a small kiss, and then you started massaging the moisturiser into his face.

He intertwined his fingers behind you, resting them on your lower back as he closed his eyes, completely content.

“I missed this,” he mumbled out softly, “your warm cunt and your smell and your wetness all over my c—“

You leaned down to kiss him, sighing into his soft cherry flavoured lips.

“You need to stop talking,” you warned.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he ignored you, opening his eyes as he stared right at you, his lids heavy.

“What did I just say?”

Still, he ignored you, unlocking his hands and trailing them to your hips. He pushed upwards, his dick nudging your sensitive spot gently.

“Jinnie,” you whined, “don’t do this.”

“Will you clench for me, baby?” He begged you, eyes wide and pleading in front of you.

“That is just as bad as moving.”

“Please. Just once, wanna feel how your cunt wraps around me so ti—fuuck.”

Hyunjin let out a louder moan when you repeated the action, pulling your body forward so your noses were touching. The new angle helped you feel the stretch even more, and it took all your self control and then some to stay still. Hyunjin was clearly losing his focus, you knew you had to stay strong for the both of you.

He pressed his lips against yours hungrily before thrusting up twice, his cock dragged against your walls so deliciously that your head fell backwards, allowing Hyunjin to press open mouth kisses to your neck.

You weren’t sure who started it, you or him, but soon you were bouncing up and down his dick repeatedly, your hands flat on his chest.

“Wait,” Hyunjin said breathlessly, holding your waist so you’d stop moving. “The bet.”

“Yeah,” you breathed in deeply. “The bet.”

You nodded at each other as you settled back down on your knees, once again staying perfectly still.

“Where were we?” He coughed, grabbing the moisturiser from where you discarded it on the couch, distributing a generous amount on the back of his hand before he started applying it to your face.

Once you covered all other areas, going through your joint skin care routine step by step, all that was left was a head massage to relax the face muscles.

You kissed Hyunjin softly, your faces still slightly sticky as the products all settled into your skins, and smiled at him as you pushed the hairband off his head, carding your hands through his hair.

You carefully unknotted his hair with your hands, slowly pressing your fingers into his scalp. His mouth hung open, his tongue poking out under his teeth as he relaxed into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.

His dick twitched inside you again, and you had to actively breath out to stop yourself from clenching. You weren’t sure you could play along with his bet any more if he made you stop again. So you just had to act like this was any other Wednesday and his dick wasn’t inside you.

But you didn’t want to complain too much, even just having him inside you without any movement was a huge improvement from the empty feeling you had until now and so you’d happily stay this close to him if that’s what Hyunjin wanted. You were greedy of course, of course you wanted all of him and you wanted it now—but if you could still win this bet while having his dick inside you, you would take it.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Hyunjin moaned softly, eyebrows scrunched as he melted into your touch.

You rubbed circles into his hair, moving up and down, focusing on his neck and his temples and anywhere that might have tension.

You dragged your nails up and down his scalp, something he’d asked for several times before, and smiled to yourself as his eyebrows raised themselves in pleasure.

Just when you were about to announce you were done and demand your weekly foot massage, Hyunjin squeezed your hips tightly.

“What is it, Jinnie?” You asked softly, unsure of what the squeeze was meant to tell you—he still hasn’t opened his eyes. Did he sense you were about to pull your hands away? Was he trying to tell you he wanted you to keep going?

“What does my pretty boy need?” You hummed, dragging your nails across his scalp one more time.

At that, Hyunjin’s head fell onto the back of the couch, his hips lifting as a long and loud groan left his chest.

You felt his dick pulsing inside you as he came, hard, a wet feeling dripping down your entrance as some of his cum leaked outside of your pussy.

His chest rose up and down heavily, his eyes blinking open as you admired his blissed out face, the way his jawline sat so proudly in front of you with his head tilted back.

He was outrageously gorgeous.

His thumb rubbed circles into your hips where he was still squeezing you, slowly loosening his grip as he came back down to reality, and in turn, came to terms with what just happened. In his own Hyunjin kind of way.

He brought his face into your chest, sobbing theatrically into your body.

“I tried so hard! I was trying so so hard,” he practically wailed, “We lost!”

“Yes, yes,” you patted his head comfortingly, “it’ll be alright.”

“We lost!”

“What were you expecting was gonna happen with you inside me?” You chuckled.

“I thought I could be strong!” He threw his head back, dragging you closer to him. “How could you let me fail so spectacularly?”

“I literally warned you,” you rolled your eyes.

“You let me crash and burn,” he shook his head, “betrayed by my own girlfriend.”

“Will you stop,” you pushed at his chest, laughing loudly at his antics. “It’s not my fault you came from literally nothing.”

“Nothing? I had my favourite girl around me scratching my head and playing with my hair. That’s literally what I imagine heaven looks like.”

“Right,” you rolled your eyes fondly. “How does it feel to be the third one out?”

Hyunjin groaned. “And after the two most obvious ones. Seungmin is gonna tease me to death about this.”

You laughed at him before slowly pushing yourself up, dripping down his sweats and over your fluffy blanket.

You grabbed your shorts off the floor before announcing you were going to get cleaned up quickly.

“Wait, can I make you cum please?” He asked, so softly. You would’ve melted right there and then if it wasn’t for the slight soreness starting to build up in your body. You were sat on his lap for a fair amount of time, feeling him stretching you out, not to mention your adventures from the morning.

“To be honest, I probably can’t go again today.” Hyunjin nodded. “But since we’re out anyway, you can do it anytime you want.”

You mirrored his grin, Hyunjin nodding at you before he let you go clean up the cum now running down your legs.

When you came back out the living room was already clean and organised, Hyunjin even put the blanket and his sweats into the laundry machine.

You wrapped your arms around him, grinning as you pecked his lips again and again and again.

“Do you still love me now that I’m a loser?” He pouted.

You laughed as you started, “you were a lo—“

“—yes, yes,” he rolled his eyes with a groan, “I don’t know why I even asked.”

“I love you still, Jinnie. Maybe even more now.”

“How come?” He asked as he rubbed his nose against yours.

“Because every day I fall more… yeah, no, I can’t say it,” you scrunched your nose up in fake disgust.

“It’s okay, I know you fall in love with me more every day,” he completed the cliche for you with a grin so big little dimples appeared by his eyes.

“Okay, you be the cheesy one, I’ll order some food.”

“No, that’s fine, I can do that—“

“—I am woman. Woman order food,” you mocked him.

Hyunjin laughed at you, his whole face laughing with him, before he pulled you into a hug and squeezed you.

As you ordered the food, Hyunjin sent a message to the group chat.

hyunjin: i’m out.

jisung: already? you suck.

hyunjin: you didn’t last 48 hours!!!

jisung: that’s not what your mum said

chan: please don’t

seungmin: han what does that even mean

minho: eliminated ❌

hyunjin: put my face up in the sky like the hunger games

jeongin: hyungs, sorry but all of us would die in five minutes if we were in the hunger games

chan: yep.

changbin: i wouldn’t

chan: yep!

seungmin: you’d get hungry and die

chan: actually yep to that

changbin: i’d get good sponsors because of my charming looks and they’d feed me forever

felix: yep!!!!

felix: and don’t worry hyunjin, next year you can try again!

several people are typing…

𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 ; 𝐥𝐟

[smut. 18+ only. minors dni.]

[gn!reader. felix calls you ‘baby’. blowjob. swearing. dirty talk. cum swallowing. super brief hair pulling scene. cumshot. felix tastes his own cum.]

[1k words]

this is written terribly and i kinda hate this but yeah, i’m weak for lee felix and those pictures altered my brain chemistry.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

your fingers wrap around his bathrobe belt to undo it from behind. felix looks at you through the mirror and chuckles when you start kissing his neck, your hands roaming all over his naked chest and abdomen.

“baby. baby, ah. i have to start getting ready for tonight,” he stutters, eyes fluttering shut.

“what? ‘m not doing anything…” you murmur, hands gripping the navy blue bathrobe and dragging the soft material down his shoulders, revealing his freckled skin. you start kissing him there, too.

“you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“and what is it?” he’s one hundred percent sure you’re smirking as you speak, even though he can’t see you.

you keep kissing him and feeling him up, wrapping your fingers around his arms as you scrape the skin of his shoulders with your teeth, gently, teasing him. then, you take the teasing even further, touching one of his most sensitive spots - his pretty, pink nipples, and it takes everything in him not to fold right there, right now.

“you... you’re a menace,” he sighs, “you’re teasing me knowing damn well i’m gonna be busy all night.”

“it’s not my fault you’re busy,” you shrug. he hates you.

“yeah, but this,” felix wraps his fingers around your wrist, then places your hand on top of his crotch and gasps at the contact your skin makes with his already hard cock. “this is your fault. i wasn’t hard when i got out of the shower.”

you whimper against his shoulder, biting him just a little bit harder. you wrap your fingers around his manhood, giving his hard cock a long and slow stroke. “you’re so hard already…”

felix takes a deep breath when he feels you moving your wrist up and down his length, but he doesn’t stop you. “seriously, though. why would you do this to me knowing i don’t have the time to bend you over and fuck you stupid?” he whines.

“but i’ll be here when you’ll come back from the event. waiting for you in bed. you can fuck me stupid then,” you promise.

“great,” felix pouts and snorts. “now i’m gonna be frustrated the whole night, thinking of my pretty baby waiting for me in bed. seriously, i love you so much but sometimes i really hate you,” he chuckles.

“well, i can’t have a frustrated boyfriend, now, can i? and i can’t have a boyfriend who hates me,” you drag the robe down felix’s spine, kissing the revealed portion of skin. “i better do something about it.”

“something? what do you mean?” he bites his lip when you finally undress him fully, the navy blue bathrobe ends up on the floor. he turns to look at you.

you kneel down in front of him, his pretty cock still in your hand as you snap your head up to meet his eyes. he’s weak for you, especially when you look at him with those eyes when you’re about to take him in your mouth. you lick the underside of his cock, all the way from his heavy balls to his pretty tip.

“oh,” felix whimpers, gripping the sink so hard his knuckles and fingers turn white when you wrap your wet lips around his cockhead and suck. “oh, yes. just like that, baby.”

you hum, taking him even deeper in your mouth until almost all of his length fits in your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat the way he likes it, the way it makes him fold for you. you feel his balls tighten, full and definitely heavier than before. the tip of your nose is buried in the dark pubic hair at the base of his cock, and your eyes flutter shut when you inhale his manly scent mixed with the one of his fruity shower gel.

“baby. my baby, you’re so good to me. your mouth is something else,” felix starts rambling on absentmindedly, kicking his head back, lost in the pleasure you’re giving him.

he starts moaning and grunting and whimpering like crazy, signalling he’s getting closer to reaching his climax. you entangle your fingers with his, then place his hand on top of your head.

“can i pull your hair, baby?” felix whines, legs already trembling. “i’ll be gentle, i promise. i won’t hurt you.”

looking up at him, you nod with his cock in your mouth and felix almost busts right in your mouth without even being able to warn you. there’s saliva all over your lips and chin, and lewd, filthy sounds are the only thing that can be heard inside the room. felix tugs at your hair and you moan.

“look at me. look at me, baby, fuck,” felix gasps, clenching his jaw, feeling on the verge of his orgasm, “look at me. wan’ you to look at me when i cum, baby, please.”

you oblige, looking at him through your eyelashes as you suck him off as if your life depended on it, moving your mouth up and down his length.

“it’s coming. baby, i’m- oh, fuck,” you feel the first rope of cum filling your mouth, and then a second rope of cum, and then felix is pulling out and a third rope of cum ends up painting your face, and then a fourth.

felix lets out choked moan at the sight of your pretty face all covered in his release. “you’re so fucking pretty like this. c’mere.”

he helps you stand up and wastes no time in crashing his lips on yours, not even caring about the fact that he can literally taste himself, since you’re covered in his pre-cum and cum. right now, you’re the hottest sight he’s ever witnessed and he’s so fucking angry that he’s got an event to attend. he’s even hornier than before.

“you,” felix grunts as he pulls away from your lips. he gropes the flesh of your ass with his hand. “you’re in for a long night, i hope you know that. ‘m gonna fucking ruin you.”

“sounds like a promise,” you poke his cheek, smirking.

“it is. i’m gonna fuck you stupid for the whole night, baby. ‘m gonna give you the night of your life. it’s a promise.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

reblogs and feedbacks are always appreciated. they let me know you like my works and enjoy reading them.

A Midsummer Love | hhj

❝𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐲?❞

↳ Much taken with the romance of finding a husband, you have looked excitedly to this season since you were a girl, only to find all you thought it would be ruined by your overprotective brother. Enter the handsome Duke of Hastings, who possessed of his own ulterior motives, presents you with an arrangement to yield you a love match. This season shall be the most scandalous yet.

↳ Hwang Hyunjin x female reader

↳ Bridgerton au. Fake relationship romance trope. Period piece, early 19th century. Angst and tension, conflict, mild violence, sexual tension and budding romance, yearning and pining, a sweet and happy ending.

! Mature content, adult themes, 17k, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Part of the skz tropes collab w @yoongihan」 「main contents list」 「© March 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

‘Twas the Regency era’s fifth season of courtship that bloomed upon the ton when you came of age.

The whispered stirrings of anticipation bewitched ladies and lords alike as early as the first thawing of spring’s chill, and to say you had counted down the days towards it would be to vastly understate your enthusiasm.

Last season you had watched your elder sister make her debut with awe, enraptured by the gowns and balls and romance that seemed to glow rosily over all of society for the summer months that were, in your young eyes, all too painfully brief. Now they began again, bringing hope after dream, and you felt it not too soon to proclaim that these months would be yours. How wistfully you had dreamt of the day you would be whisked off your feet by a wealthy, handsome gentleman that would make of you a blushing bride and (though the logistics escaped you), a doting mother to many, many children. How beautiful a life you would live, making a home of a quaint country house— it need not be so opulent, of course; perhaps ten or so rooms in which to repose would be ample. Taking tea and hosting friends would fill you with much delight, as would turning in with a good book to the view of gardens clustered with flowers and exotic posies of the most stunningly vibrant ilk.

Such were the romantic musings you lost yourself to amidst the surrounding clamour of house servants that fussed about your bedroom.

“Come, come Miss!” One such servant entreated, her arms full of colourful satin ribbons. “We must get you dressed! Time is upon us!”

When the work of the servants was done and you had been made presentable, you admired yourself in the looking glass, whereupon your breath caught. Surely the modiste had outdone herself; you hardly knew your reflection. The white chiffon gown fell flatteringly to the shape of your body, trimmed as it was with dove’s feathers and silver. Satin white gloves and a gossamer shawl about your shoulders kept you modest, yet a generous neckline did plainly put on show your decolletage and the long column of your throat, teasing at the swell of cleavage your snug corset so amply bestowed.

“My goodness!”

Your mother’s breathless exclamation drew your attention to the doorway, where she flustered and fussed. She breezed over as though to take you in a hug, yet caught herself for fear of rustling what perfection had been achieved.

“My darling girl, look at you,” she cooed, her kind eyes teary. “Should the queen not immediately proclaim you the diamond of the season on first sight of you; well! I shall proclaim her mad on the spot, and off shall be my head!”

“Mother, please,” you laughed, warm with her affection. “I can hardly take credit. If anything, I rather think I should be thanking you.”

“Nonsense!” She waved the sentiment away. “The finest gowns are but rags on those unfortunate young ladies without the poise for them. You, my dear, will be the most refined debutant of the social season.” She pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “Now, then. Are you ready?”

“To face the queen and have her exact judgement upon me before all the ton?”

“Yes.”

With a deep breath, you nodded. “I have awaited this day for longer than I care to admit, mother. Yes. I am ready.”

“You shall dazzle, my dear.” She turned to the orderly line of servants still amassed. “Fetch the carriage, please. My second born is to debut today!”

*

Never had you seen so much beauty in one place— surely such gatherings upset the balance of things, temporally or spiritually.

Most everywhere you looked was a young lady dressed in her finery, attended to by their mother or other such family member to which they afforded responsibility of chaperone. The keen tingle of giddy nerves hovered about the royal lobby, the vastness of which was almost enough to overmaster your own anxiety— how high the ornate ceiling loomed above your head! From the first you had been utterly awed, having heard only tales from your sister of the rich grandness the royal family possessed, the gold and the white and the floral; her stories seemed to fall utterly short of where you now stood, waiting your turn to parade yourself before the queen, who in the next room reposed with her retinue and all those noble men and women of court. An intimidating affair no matter which way one sliced it, to have one’s name called out in invitation to a lion’s den, but so excitedly were you anticipating what might come after the formalities had been dispensed with, you found yourself rather clearer of mind than those that shared your plight. The opulent double doors at the far of the room were opened and shut by the pages, yet another young lady admitted with a fanfare.

“Now, remember dear,” your mother said softly. “Be only what you are. The queen will know if you appear before her with ill airs and graces. She has a nose for such things.”

“Yes, mother. I shall be fine.”

“Naturally, dear. Naturally. Just— Well, do take care where you tread, yes? Your frock is so delicate. Should I have instructed the modiste to take it up an inch? Will you be—”

“Mother.” You took her hands. “I shall be fine.”

Just then, the clear pronunciation of your name suffixed by ‘of the house Bridgerton’ was heard by all, your heart lurching with the blare of horns that accompanied it. Your mother flustered yet stood aside for your entrance, maintaining several paces behind as you stepped from the lobby and into the queen’s chamber. Lords and ladies and courtiers of unthinkable wealth and astute reputation looked on, gathered either side of the central aisle where you walked demurely, head held high, heart pounding all the while. The queen, so widely known to be benevolent and fair, awaited you at the end, throned and wrapped in a grand gown of striking purple that complemented her dark, silky complexion. It was difficult to tell much of her expression: her lips were pressed thinly, her brown eyes focused. Behind her stood her retinue of ladies-in-waiting, each of them cradling a bundle of white fluff that you understood to be the queen’s dogs— the small irony made your lips twitch. Just as the tinny shrill of the horns faded and died, you stopped and gave as most courteous a curtsy as your mother had trained you to do.

“Your Majesty,” you said reverently.

Still, it remained nigh impossible to intonate anything of the queen’s feelings through her drawn features. She looked you up and down, and after a moment, rose from her throne. A quick gasp shocked all in the room, and though composed in appearance, your insides twirled with worry.

She took an elegant step towards you, and all at once it seemed too bold to look so directly and so closely at the queen, force of nature that she was. And yet the queen reached out to tilt your chin up and right your posture, looking you squarely in the eye. She smiled warmly.

“Flawless, my dear,” she said.

So it was that the diamond of the season had been found, and within the hour the news had swept across the ton and into every household of note, eliciting from those bachelors keen to seek a wife this season a most enthused and determined course of action, for the young lady that possessed the queen’s endorsement was unquestionably proper and pretty in every way a young lady ought to be, and therefore coveted the attentions of the finest men.

During the carriage ride home you listened to your mother speak excitedly of all this, in truth too giddy to much consider that you might attract the wrong attentions.

*

“And so, mother, you understand why I must take over as her chaperone and representative, yes?”

The eldest Bridgerton brother meant well. He, like all men, simply lacked the trait considered widely to be feminine, but that to your mind (perhaps naïvely) ought to be considered par for the course of simple conversational etiquette in high society: tact.

“I’m afraid I do not, Anthony,” your mother replied, her stitching set aside. “In fact, if I possessed a more hysterical mind, I might think that you mean to insult me.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, pacing about the warm sitting room. “I mean no such thing.”

“You imply that my judgement in the matter of your sister’s matching is inferior to your own, do you not?”

“I imply that your knowledge as to the men of the ton is inferior to mine, mother,” he said. “My sister has been proclaimed the diamond of the season. You know well the attention this will draw to her.”

Your mother smiled. “Indeed, I do. The more, the better for her.”

“And that is precisely why I should be more involved,” he sighed. “She should not indulge just any man that approaches her, mother. It might not be gossiped of in your sewing circles, but I assure you, the things I know of these men remove more than half of them from eligible courting.”

Your mother blinked. “And how, dear son, did you come to possess such information?”

Anthony ceased his pacing.

“Would it be because you too frequent the gentleman’s clubs?”

“I am a man. It is normal to—”

“Normal for you, but not normal for those men that may show interest in your sister?”

With a start, he roughly cleared his throat. “Am I not the man of this house?” he asked sharply. “Is my word not final? I shall accompany her to every ball and event of the season and take responsibility as chaperone. I will know who intends to court her. This, I have decided. We shall speak no more of it.”

Your mother sighed wearily and picked up her stitching. “As you wish, dear.”

“I merely wish the best for her, mother.”

“I know, dear.”

Anthony nodded, seemingly satisfied. “Well, then. I have business to attend to.”

He strode across the room as though to leave.

“Anthony?”

He turned back to where his mother reposed in a stream of summer sunlight.

“Your word is final on matters of the Bridgerton household. That is the duty left to you by your dear father,” she said gently. “But mind your words on your sister’s heart. You cannot speak for her when she sets it, and she will do so of her own volition.”

Anthony pursed his lips, indignance flaring.

He would see about that.

*

The first ball of the season was thrown by the esteemed Lady Danbury, a close acquaintance of your mother’s. You knew her to be a rich widow, her husband having passed when she was middle-aged, and the vast fortunes she now enjoyed were those left to her by marriage.

When the carriage pulled up outside Danbury House, you were much awed by what you saw. The grand country manor had been set for the event, vines of colourful wildflowers wound about the stone pillars that propped the awning. Gemstone encrusted braziers blazed hot with open flame, tincturing the summer night with the excitable scent of burnt charcoal. They aligned a wide red carpet that lords and ladies walked arm in arm, and it was this that you stepped upon as you climbed from the carriage.

Anthony, first to disembark, offered you his arm.

“Come, sister.”

Entering the manor to the bustle of partygoers, you returned greetings and well wishes to those that you both knew and didn’t; indeed, the heft of the queen’s issue of you soon became clear. All eyes were trained to you as though expecting you might grow a second head, and though flattered by the attention, you were inwardly flustered and consequently glad that your brother had decided on accompanying you, despite the initial perplexment.

In the main ballroom, a central dance floor was marked off by high standing bouquets of white and lilac lilies— such appeared to be the theme of the night. Soft violet hangings of chiffon and lace formed stunning tapestries along the smooth, curved walls. Bows and ribbons and elegant arrangements of dove white fabric concealed the darker corners of the ballroom, so that all appeared bright and soft. Suited servants made the rounds with flutes of fizz and bites to eat. Young ladies stood near to their chaperones, their coy eyes wandering to those men whose attentions they most hoped to attract. The gentle tones of violin and cello floated about the ballroom from the concentrated band, soon to play a tune that would have all involved in the customary baroque dances.

Your conversations with the other ladies were congenial and light; pleasantries exchanged on your dress and your apparent luck at being declared the season diamond. Three quarters of an hour passed much like this, and having yet to be approached by a suitor with an offer of conversation or dance, you began to worry. Was your dress not so appealing after all? Was there something wrong with your hair? Did you have something in your teeth?

“Anthony!” called a voice from across the ballroom, so loud as to startle you from your thoughts.

“Lord Berbrooke!”

Somewhat solemn until now, your brother’s face lit up as he warmly greeted the stout gentleman that had entreated him. He was rotund around the middle and at least two heads shorter than Anthony, his cheeks puffy red and chin abused by a scraggly ginger beard. Too long did his bloodshot eyes linger on you, much to your discomfort.

“How goes it, Viscount?” Berbrooke asked gruffly, his breath hot around his words. “Not married yet?”

Anthony shook his head. “No. God forbid I ever should be.”

“Tosh! It comes to us all in the end, Bridgerton. You shall be no exception; especially with a fortune such as your father left.” He licked his chapped lips. “I imagine you've suitors simply chomping at the bit to get a foot in the door, so to speak.”

“Not as many as one would like,” you muttered.

“What was that, young lady?”

Anthony laughed, and in a bid to change the topic, said, “Lord Berbrooke, this is my younger sister. She makes her debut this season.”

You smiled and curtseyed politely. Berbrooke’s eyes rolled over you greedily.

“A fine young flower, indeed,” he slathered. “What a delight it is to meet you, my dear.”

Revulsion twisted your gut, yet you smiled all the same.

“Might I steal her away for a dance, Anthony?” he asked.

“You flatter me, sir, but I—”

“She would be delighted,” Anthony stated flatly. “Wouldn’t you, sister?”

Berbrooke looked on eagerly. Horrified but unable to voice it, you strained a smiled and nodded, suddenly coming to understand what it was had made you so entirely unapproachable this evening— or rather, who.

“Please excuse me a moment.”

Not wishing to remain a second longer, you quickly departed the conversation and hurried across the ballroom, heart in your throat. You were loath to believe that Anthony’s insistence on chaperoning could be based on such overzealous reasoning as protecting your virtue, but how else was it to be interpreted when all evening he had stood sombrely at your side, repelling all who might hope to approach save for one? And that one, of all!

“Sister!”

Catching your elbow and halting your escape, Anthony quietly manoeuvred you aside.

“You will apologise to Lord Berbrooke for your rudeness,” he said plainly.

“Apologise?” you hissed, for your relationship with your brother was none delicate and could well withstand the brazenness of sibling conflict. “How could you ask me to dance with him?”

“Lord Berbrooke is a fine man. He has business in many quarters of the city and his reputation is solid. Above board. You could do much worse.”

“I could do better, brother. He is thrice your age and ten times as foul. I will never marry him.”

“You would do well to remember yourself. The matter of your marriage is as much my affair as it is yours. You will be matched well, and by my hand.”

“Then I shall not be matched at all,” you said, tears pricking your eyes. “When I marry, it shall not be in the name of convenience or business. It shall be for love.”

“Oh, do grow up, for heaven’s sake.”

“Mother shall hear of this.”

“Mother already has. She has agreed to my terms.”

“If that were true, you would not have insisted on her residing at home tonight,” you said, snatching your arm from his grip.

“Sister—”

“I require air. Do not follow me.”

You stormed away before your tongue could much more loosen, weaving through the crowd that had begun to amass on the spacious ballroom floor, positions taken up according to the music cues that you hardly heard for the anxious pounding of your heart.

Anthony could not do this to you. You would not allow him to do this to you. To marry that detestable man would be the most unthinkable fate—

Just then, you were promptly winded by a force of collision to your chest, solid enough to have you reeling from your feet. Strong arms caught and steadied you, and you soon realised that the fault was all your own— in your distress you had rushed with haste into the broad back of a man you’d never before seen, but that now held you near to him and looked upon you with soft hazel eyes and a grim expression of bewilderment. Light blonde, shoulder-length hair framed his features that, in the ballroom light, seemed almost feminine in their soft curvature, yet the tell of masculinity held in his strong jaw and sharp nose.

“M— My apologies,” you quickly offered, straightening yourself and stepping from him; he released you easily.

“The apology should be mine,” he said in a most pleasingly smooth voice. He bowed courteously. “Curse my foolish body for getting in your way, my lady.”

You laughed lightly, somewhat relieved. “Indeed. Curse my eyes for not seeing your foolish body.”

The man grinned, his perfect white teeth on show. Breathtaking.

“I do not believe I know you, sir,” you said. “You are from the city?”

“Ah. Well, yes. I am not long returned to the ton. My business demands I spend much of the year overseas.”

“And you are back for the social season?”

He cast his eyes over you, a wry smile forming on his plush lips. “At the request of my aunt, yes.”

About to throw yet another question at the man whose name you had yet to even discover (for that was simply how enthralling he was), your endeavour was disturbed by the boom of your brother’s voice.

“Hwang!” He approached quickly and took the man you were addressing in an embrace that was spiritedly returned. “I had not heard you were back!”

“Then you pay as little attention to the gossipmongers of this city than I, old friend,” he laughed.

“Business allows you the break?” Anthony asked.

“Business flows as busily as ever, Bridgerton.”

“I see. We have the esteemed Lady Danbury to thank, then?”

“My aunt can be...” He flicked a gaze to you. “Persuasive.”

On your congenial smile and the acknowledgement of your presence, Anthony finally turned to you.

“I see you have met my sister,” he said, tone markedly flat.

“Your sister?”

Anthony nodded. The man blinked, his smile disappearing.

“Sister, allow me to introduce you. This is the Duke of Hastings and a personal friend of mine. Hwang Hyunjin.”

A duke. Goodness. Though he himself seemed none taken with the formality, grimacing at the exchange.

“It is wonderful to meet you, your grace,” you said, looking determinedly into those sweet eyes.

“The pleasure is entirely mine, my lady.” He returned the gaze.

“Yes, well—” Anthony cleared his throat. “She debuts this season, and it is my endeavour to find her a suitable match.”

“I am capable of deciding for myself, brother. Shocking though it might be for you to discover, I am possessed of a brain.”

Hyunjin scoffed a laugh.

“I have already introduced her to the esteemed Lord Berbrooke,” Anthony said, quite ignorant. “I rather think him a strong candidate.”

“Berbrooke?” Hyunjin repeated. “Surely you cannot mean—”

“Mean what? You do not agree that he would make a reputable husband and provide for my sister well?” Anthony snapped.

Hyunjin nodded. “If that is where your concerns lie, I suppose.”

“I know well the reputations of all these men,” Anthony continued, casting a disapproving glare about the ballroom. “Not one of them has anything to recommend them to my sister as suitor, let alone husband. Their very names inspire scandal.”

“I think that a margin harsh, Bridgerton,” Hyunjin said. “Those in glass houses should not throw stones.”

“You think me like them?”

“I only hope that when the time comes for your search of a wife, you will not be beholden to the same kind of persecution. If visiting the gentleman’s clubs and such propensities are enough to deem a man unworthy of marriage, then not one in all of London shall ever wed!”

Anthony’s nostrils flared, his ego clearly struck.

“I merely think you worry unduly,” Hyunjin then added gently. “Your sister, like you, is a Bridgerton. Trust in her to make the right decision.”

How quickly you were growing to like this man— stunning beauty aside, you easily felt yourself warming by his glance and soft smile, his words so affirming. With a sigh and shrug, he patted your brother on the shoulder.

“If you would kindly excuse me, I believe I am quite spent for one night. We shall catch up, Bridgerton.”

He turned to you and bowed courteously, taking your hand to which he pressed a soft, reverential kiss.

“A pleasure,” he said.

With that, he strode off through the crowd, bodies parting for him and longing eyes following where yours too went.

Hwang Hyunjin, Duke of Hastings.

A pleasure, indeed.

*

The days that followed Lady Danbury’s ball were, by your own declaration, a torrent of misery.

Lord Berbrooke, spurred on by your brother’s approval, sought to court you every day, calling on the house to regale you with tales of his business and of his youth as a military man. Listening to the tales was not so painful as merely sitting with him, for the man seemed to possess no ideals of bathing or the benefits of pleasantly scented herbs to ease the eye-watering odour which he seemed to carry always— how vehemently you insisted on extra sprigs of lavender in the sitting room.

Your mother, adequately horrified by the entire affair, made her displeasure known to Anthony on multiple occasions and with increasing strength, and you might have found relief in it if you believed he would in any way relent. As it stood, there seemed no sign that he would budge on the matter of your betrothal to Berbrooke, and with such little power as you possessed, there appeared nothing to be done about it.

“Must I promenade with him, mother?” you asked wearily.

“Oh, my dear.” Your mother patted your cheek gently, affixed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know this weighs heavily on you, but do as your brother says for now. I have not given up on changing his mind on all this.”

“I was declared the diamond of the season.” Your voice caught, breaking with tears. “Does that mean nothing to him?”

“It is difficult to see it now, but he simply wishes the best for you. For the family.”

“If he truly wished that, he would marry himself. He speaks of duty and honour, yet I see no such demonstration from him.”

Your mother looked on you sadly, her sympathetic eyes reflecting all you already knew— that when your emotions got the better of you, there was no assuaging to be done.

“It falls to you, my dear,” your mother said. “Show him that there are other men in the ton able to make for you an honourable husband. His prejudice blinds him, but if he sees how you try, perhaps he shall bend. There is nothing else for it.”

You sighed and blinked through the tears. Your mother wrapped her arms around you gently, the comfort of home so reassuring for its part.

“A diamond glitters no matter how dense the darkness,” she whispered. “This all shall pass. I promise.”

*

The summer morning was light and warm, the park in full and colourful bloom. Lush lawns of trimmed green dipped to embankments that circled the calm lake, where lords and ladies took tea and sweets as their chaperones and families looked on. Pastel parasols bobbed along the paths like buoys seeking land, the gentle breeze rustling their fringes redolent of freshly cut grass and sweet wildflowers; the essence of rosy, romantic summer.

Shame that it did not quite reach you, however, tucked under the shade of a tall birch where you stood sombrely and watched the enamoured couples promenade. Your brother lurked at your right-hand like the gargoyle he had taken to becoming, while your mother poised at your left.

“Perhaps we should walk a while, Anthony?” she asked. “It is such clement weather, it would do us good to—”

“We wait for Lord Berbrooke.”

Your heart sank.

“Anthony, please,” your mother entreated. “I am sure Lord Berbrooke shall find us. We look quite the lark, standing here uncomfortably. People are watching, you know.”

“Let them watch,” he sighed. “They shall see nothing of interest.”

And it was at that moment that a stroke of luck happened upon you.

“Lady Bridgerton?” A smooth, feminine voice said, puzzled. Your mother turned quickly, her face alight when she saw her good and old friend.

“Lady Danbury! How good to see you!”

Lady Danbury was, as ever, turned out as though the day might be her last. Deep purple satin made her frock, and her eccentricity shone through in the smart top hat wound with ribbons that perched on her head.

“Indeed,” Lady Danbury said, her look quizzical. “You are here to promenade?”

“We are,” your mother replied, and then quickly added, “We sought some shade from our walking. How hot it is today!”

“Walk with me, then. I am in need of good company.”

“We are awaiting someone—”

“Thank you, my lady,” you hastily took her on the offer, linking your mother’s arm before your brother could much more ruin things for you. Several steps out of the shade after her felt an immediate relief.

“You do not join us, Viscount?” Lady Danbury turned back to ask.

He shook his head stiltedly. “I shall see you on the way around.”

“As you like, then.”

With that, the three of you took to a delightful stroll about the lake, the clack of Lady Danbury’s cane timing your pleasant pace.

“How fares things, Lady Bridgerton?” Lady Danbury asked.

“Very well, thank you. And you?”

“Much the same. I must say; I did not expect to see the viscount in attendance at my ball. He so seldom involves himself in the social season. He is chaperoning this time?”

Your mother nodded. “He is.”

Lady Danbury laughed, gravelly yet soft. “He is giving you a time of it?”

“I do not wish to speak out of turn, Lady Danbury.”

“Nonsense. We are all women. Lord knows we cannot speak to the men of our strife— they are so often the cause of it!”

Your mother sighed. “Indeed. Well. I dare say he is—”

“He is forcing me into a marriage with Lord Berbrooke,” you said.

Lady Danbury quirked a brow. “I see.”

“He says the other men of the ton are unsuitable. That he knows their reputations and pastimes and that their names would invite scandal.”

“He is in search of a saint, then?”

“It certainly appears so.”

Your mother intervened. “He means well, Lady Danbury.”

“Of course. He takes the duties of his father seriously. One cannot resent him that.”

“But should he not trust my judgement on the matter of a husband? I wish to marry for love, Lady Danbury, as my parents did. As my sister did. Not for business. I have told him as such, yet he frightens all the men from me. Not one dares approach!”

Lady Danbury hummed. “It is indeed unfortunate that he has made the matter of your marriage his first course of business. Though it is not unheard of for such marriages of convenience to bloom in love. I can speak to this myself.”

“Lady Danbury.” You stopped. “I sooner see myself declaring madness than falling in love with that foul ogre of a man. I should rather live alone and spend my days as a spinster than—”

“Aunt!”

All eyes turned to the approaching gentleman that jogged gently across the lawn, his light blonde hair like silk about his shoulders. Yet more breathtaking in the glow of summer than the first you saw him, something felt as though to twist in your chest as the Duke of Hastings embraced Lady Danbury warmly, a kiss on each of her cheeks.

“I did not think to see you here, your grace,” she said.

“You may dispense with the formalities, aunt,” he laughed, then looked up to the sky. “I thought I might soak up the sunshine whilst it lasts. So rarely does it visit.”

“How agreeable. Walk with us then.” Lady Danbury turned to you and your mother. “You have met the Bridgertons?”

Hyunjin bowed courteously. “I have not had the pleasure of the matriarch,” he said. “How lovely to meet you.”

Your mother blushed scarlet when the man took her hand gently. “Y— Yes. Lovely.”

“And I believe we met at Lady Danbury’s ball, did we not, miss?” He directed the question to you, his eyes alight with something you could not read.

You nodded graciously. “We did, your grace.”

“Excellent. Let us walk, then.”

And so the promenade began again, with your mother and Lady Danbury taking to a leisurely pace ahead of yourself and Hyunjin. A respectable distance was maintained between you, and even so, you felt the warmth of the man through his smart navy two-piece that happened to fit him as though he had been birthed in it.

“I do not see your brother in attendance,” he said, hands clasped behind his back as he walked.

“He is here.”

“Ah. I shall see him later, then.”

A cluster of ladies gathered on the embankment giggled loudly— they were watching a fierce rowing competition on the lake between the men.

“Did you enjoy yourself at the ball?” Hyunjin asked.

“I did.”

“Good. I am glad to hear it. Only, you seemed rather out of sorts, is all.”

“You would have my brother to thank for that,” you sighed.

“I see. The matter of your matching?”

“Yes.”

“He still insists on Lord Berbrooke?”

“He does.”

Hyunjin shook his head.

“I do not wish to speak of it any longer,” you said. “Such grim topics spoil the day. Tell me of yourself, your grace. You are Lady Danbury’s nephew? By which side?”

The concern on his features did not so much abate, but he entertained you regardless.

“By neither. I call her my aunt, and she entreats me as her nephew, but we are not kin. She raised me just the same.”

 “I see. And your parents?”

His brows drew together, a visible swallow bobbing his throat. “Gone.”

“I am very sorry to hear that.”

“Sorry?” He quirked a brow. “You need not be. All transpired well, and I owe all I have now to Lady Danbury’s kindness. She is a good woman.”

A moment of silence elapsed, where the many questions you could pose to him rattled around your head like skittles. How many hours you could spend simply conversing with him!

“I understand your father is also passed?”

You nodded. “The memories I have of him are fond. My siblings and I were much too young to understand what happened at the time, but Anthony...” You swallowed. “He recalls all of it, but he does not speak of it.”

“Naturally. Such tragedies are better left to collect dust. We must move on.”

“Agreed.”

“Start our own families and begin new legacies.”

“Quite.” You chewed your inner cheek. “May I ask something, your grace?”

Hyunjin stopped, for the path had directed over a small, raised area that bridged a trickling stream. “Of course.”

“You are not married?”

“I am not.”

“Why?”

Hyunjin looked out to the larger lake, head tilted back for the sun to kiss his handsome features and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath.

“I have never felt the need,” he said simply.

“But what of starting your own legacy? Your own family?”

“I am all the family I need. And at the risk of sounding pompous, my legacy is already well established. There are not many that do not know the Duke of Hastings and all he owns.”

“And what will you leave behind? What of an heir?”

“My estates and assets shall be donated on occasion of my death.”

“What of love?”

He opened his eyes, the almond flecks of hazel catching in the sunlight. So unthinkably stunning was he, your own breath caught short in your throat and seemed as though to seize. Such strange sensation made you flush with heat— Hyunjin smiled softly.

“Might I speak freely, my lady?”

You merely nodded, awestruck.

“You might think me mad, but it strikes me that we might be able to help one another.”

“H— Help?”

“Your brother is insistent on this arrangement with Berbrooke, yes?”

“Yes.”

“He will only relent to a man whose reputation he can respect? Whom he knows well?”

“I suppose.”

Hyunjin stepped closer, his voice a hush over the breeze. “As you know, it was my aunt that ordained my return to the ton for the season,” he said. “I could not well refuse her. But she is with motive. She hopes to secure me a wife, and now that the idea is upon her, it shall remain. Like you, I have tried to reason with her as to my feelings on the matter, but she is not to be convinced.”

“I see...”

“I propose we work together,” he continued. “Allow me to court you, and not only shall it satisfy my dear aunt that I am making attempts to marry and thus keep her eyes from me, but it shall assuage your brother’s worry as to your match. He and I are old friends; he cannot dispute that I am, for my part, a good man. He shall have no choice but to call off this arrangement with Berbrooke.”

“B— But, surely if you are seen to be courting me, I shall be kept even further from the attentions of other men?”

“On the contrary, my lady. There is nothing men covet more than that which his wealthy neighbour possesses. Once the ton hears of my attentions toward you, men will come from every constituency to court you. They shall clamour for your hand whether Anthony approves or not.”

It made sense. Oh, how much sense it made, but how much scandal it might provoke! To partake in a ruse such as this was unheard of, unthought of, entirely unlike you in most every way. And yet here you were, considering such proposition from a man you knew scarcely, save for that his face was carved by angels.

“What say you, my lady?” he asked softly, gloved hand discreetly offered.

What had you to lose, save a fate of spinsterhood and destitution?

“Very well.” You slipped your hand into his; he squeezed it tenderly, and your heart did something most bizarre. “You have a deal, your grace.”

“Excellent,” he smiled. “Though I must make one thing abundantly clear.”

You quirked a brow, still clasping his hand.

“This is an arrangement of business. We must not let our emotions interfere.”

“Meaning what, your grace?”

“Meaning...” He released your hand. “You must not fall in love with me, my lady.”

Your laugh was as forceful as the weight that sank your chest; he told you nothing noteworthy, for you knew how he spurned marriage and love. Yet to hear him say it seemed so sad. A waste of so much.

“You flatter yourself, Duke.”

“Perhaps. Just so long as we are clear.”

“We are clear.”

He nodded graciously. “Very well then. I look forward to working with you.”

*

“The Duke of Hastings is here to call on Miss Bridgerton.”

Your mother leapt up from her knitting, the ball of yarn rolling across the floor as her needles clattered.

“What!?” she cried. “My goodness! Say again?!”

The servant cleared their throat, and once more said, “The Duke of Hastings is here to call on Miss Bridgerton, my lady.”

What ensued was nothing short of a flurry of hysterical panic; servants ordered to furnish the sitting room with tea and refreshments and fetch the nicest doilies should the duke wish to set his teacup on any near surface. Such effort was neglected for the visits of Lord Berbrooke, and as you watched the chaos with a smile, it felt that the season of romance you always wished for might finally be starting. Such thoughts you really ought to have kept in check, for as you too often forgot: all of this was a pretence.

“Good morning, ladies.”

With a grand bouquet of lilac lilies—the favourites of his aunt, you noted—the duke was welcomed into the sitting room. Never had he looked more dashing, his three-piece suit of stone-grey clinging most pleasingly to where his frame betrayed lean, toned muscle. He was so tall as to stoop when he greeted your mother, his long legs stretching the britches that themselves seemed to struggle to contain the elegant length.

“What a wonderful surprise!” your mother gushed.

“I hope I do not impose upon you, Lady Bridgerton.”

“No, no! You are most welcome, your grace! Come, sit! Would you care for tea? Perhaps a sweet? Or anything else at all?”

After the frantic attendance of your mother had eased and you were left to the man’s company (inasmuch as ‘left’ occasioned; your mother merely retired to the other side of the sitting room, where she knitted and pretended not to listen), you thought of what to talk about. Indeed, it all seemed rather contrite when the arrangement bore an expiration date.

“You are radiant this morning, Miss Bridgerton,” he said graciously from beside you on the chaise longue.

“You need not flatter me, your grace.” Though the flush of heat up your neck betrayed your inward delight. “No doubt news of your calling on me has already begun to travel over the ton. The servants do miraculous work.”

“It was no attempt at flattery, my lady, but as you wish.”

While you clawed your heart back from your throat, he looked about the room, his eyes falling to the book that rested on the table; an encyclopaedic work on native birds.

“You read, my lady?”

“I like to.”

Hyunjin smiled.

“It amuses you that I like to read? Should I sit before the window and vegetate from sunrise to sunset instead?”

“I am not the sort that finds intelligent women distressing, my lady. If I thought you ill-educated, I would not have approached you in the first.”

You cleared your throat. “I see.”

“You doubt me?”

“No, your grace. You strike me as a sincere man.”

“Good. I am glad.”

“Though I do wonder why you prefer to partake in such ruse with me,” you whispered, “when you could simply do things the right way, as your aunt wishes.”

“The right way?”

You shrugged. “Meet someone and fall in love.”

“I have addressed this already. I do not wish to marry.”

“I was not speaking of marriage. I speak of love.”

“I thought you believed the two not mutually exclusive?”

“I do not, but why would one ever refrain from marrying the person they love? Such a course of action must be madness.”

“Love is a childish affair that makes hapless fools of better men and hysterical crones of good women. I have no need of it.”

“I dare say anyone has need of it, your grace. It is hardly a lame horse. I am rather inclined to believe it simply... happens. Whether one wishes for it or not.”

Hyunjin blinked, the muscle of his jaw feathering as it tensed, then relaxed. He held your gaze, almond eyes focused.

“I find it rather lovely, actually,” you added. “That there exists an emotion powerful enough to make one wish to change the course of their life. Love should be celebrated.”

“You speak as though you yourself have felt it, my lady.”

“I have not,” you sighed. “I know only what I have read of and seen, in my sister and in my parents. But I most desperately wish to feel it. I wish that all those I care for will one day feel it.”

“You have been surrounded by goodness, it seems,” Hyunjin said. “You should count yourself lucky.”

“Oh, I do, your grace. I am most grateful for all my parents have provided my siblings and I. They have raised us well, in love and luxury. I should be eternally grateful.”

“Indeed. Not all are so blessed.”

You searched his face, for he had averted it to the window, and what you could make of his expression had drawn sombre.

“Your grace?”

He shook his head and smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “My apologies. Pay me no mind.”

He rose from your side, and on sight of him doing so, your mother rose too, setting her stitching aside.

“You are leaving, your grace?” she asked.

“I have taken up quite enough of Miss Bridgerton’s time,” he said with a bow. “Thank you for entertaining me, my lady.”

He took your hand and with the pillowy lips you had so vehemently thought to ignore, pressed a chaste kiss to your gloved knuckle. So reverent and tender was the suggestion, you could not help but wonder if the show was entirely necessary when only your mother was in attendance to see it— you ought to have spared your heart the misery.

 “I shall call again tomorrow, if I may?” he asked, directing the question to your mother, who watched the exchange with delighted quiet.

“Of course, your grace. We should be honoured to have you again. Any time.”

“Very well, then.” He bowed once more. “Until tomorrow, ladies. Good day.”

With that, he availed himself of your company, and for the coming hours you suffered the titillated chatter of your mother to the servants and your siblings, to all who would listen of the wonderful, wonderful news that ‘the Duke of Hastings is courting my darling daughter! What beautiful children they shall be blessed with! Oh, but I knew how it would be! What happy days!’

What happy days, indeed.

*

The next most prominent event of the season was to be the observatory ball— an affair organised by the dowagers of the ton, long since removed from the formal romance of the social season and with nothing more engaging to occupy them.

Chaperoned by your ever dutiful brother, though his presence did more to harden your heart than bear assurance, it was with some misery that you entered the stunning glass building, unable fully to appreciate the opulence that dripped from every pillar and awning in shows of white flowers and delicate lace. A great mural of intricate symbols had been painted white on the dance floor, where several couples had taken to spinning already. Spirits seemed to be high, infecting the evening air with a great buzz of anticipation. You felt it yourself, despite your brother’s attempts to act the aegis. Something would happen tonight. Something that would change everything.

“I see no sign of Berbrooke,” your brother huffed from your side, casting focused glances about the guests. “He assured me he would be in attendance tonight.”

“I should rejoice if he fails to show up entirely,” you sighed.

“Such pessimism is most unbecoming of a lady, sister. You ought to be more congenial.”

“I could have until judgement day and not muster enough congeniality to offer that man even a single smile, brother.”

Anthony blinked at you, his dark eyes in astonishment.

“I should like to say hello to the other ladies,” you said, starting away from him. “Do not follow me.”

For what reason your brother this time chose to comply, you could not guess at, but you indeed considered that the occasional speaking out of turn impacted men more than you initially believed.

In crossing the observatory and passing under white wreaths of berries and flora, you sought the lemonade stand, in truth none thirsty for a drink, but possessed of some hope that a gentleman might spy you alone and summon the courage to approach for a dance. Minutes passed where no such thing occurred, and it was just as you began to sink into depths of sadness, that a rash clearing of throat from behind you caught your attention.

“Miss Bridgerton.”

The Duke of Hastings stood before you, most dashing in a red velvet suit finished with black trim. His light hair tucked behind both ears seemed comprised of silk itself, and his countenance most relaxed, yet strong and firm, brought you to a smile.

“Your grace,” you curtseyed politely, despite the weakness of knees. “How wonderful to see you.”

He cast an eye that might have been interpreted as critical over you, a smile caught on the curve of his lips.

“You look lovely,” he said.

“Thank you, your grace. As do you.”

“I look lovely?”

“Quite lovely. I thought velvet a dated material, but I appear forced to reconsider my opinion.”

“Did I not have the measure of you, Miss Bridgerton, I might be inclined to believe that a veiled insult.”

“I am not in the business of veiling my insults, your grace. Should I ever mean to insult you, you shall know it.”

His eyes glimmered with amusement. “Noted.” He offered you his arm to take. “Shall we dance?”

“Can you dance, your grace?”

“I am educated in formal baroque. So, yes.”

“Very well, then.”

You took his arm, a wave of unhindered delight threatening to outweigh your sensibility as he walked you to the floor, turning curious heads as you went. The instrumental band played an upbeat melody, one that had the occupants of the floor dancing the menuet in two lines of ladies and gentlemen. Joining the end of the respective lines, you fell easily into the steps, swaying both away from and towards the men that captivated your attentions. By now it was no wonder that most eyes in the observatory were on the two of you, your brother’s included. Smiling through the bout of anxiety, it was in taking Hyunjin’s hand again that the melody changed to allow for a slower, closer dance, which was of no small relief. It felt better to be close to him.

“Do you possess such strong opinion of all fabrics, Miss Bridgerton?” he asked quietly, the arm floating about your waist hardly touching.

“I am educated in textiles, your grace. So, yes.”

He smiled wryly. “I see. Allow me to consult you on the matter of my attire from time to time, then.”

“If it pleases your grace.”

“It does. Are you inclined to fashion, my lady?”

“Not particularly. Mother insists on engaging me with the modiste for gowns and the like, and I am able to appreciate a pretty dress as much as the next lady, but I much prefer the employment of a book or my sewing. Such stimulating things brings me great peace. The fancies of fashion seem only to bring me a headache.”

“In that, we are in agreement, my lady.” His smile widened to a grin, and in the lingering eye contact you went through the steps of dance, his smile gradually diminished to more serious appearance.

“All eyes are on us, your grace,” you whispered.

“Indeed. That is the point. Your name shall be on every gentleman’s lips for the remainder of the eve; the remainder of the season. You recall our bargain?”

“I do.”

“Then you understand why I thought it prudent to attend tonight. To dance with you before all the ton.”

You nodded gently, the heat of his hand in yours a most distracting sensation. He led you easily and without too much thought, the coming together of your movements a most natural and intimate event. Too intimate to be watched by those present, you rather thought.

“You do not seem pleased.”

“What?”

He searched your face. “I thought the prospect of your popularity renewing would delight you.”

You shook your head. “It does. I just… I fear that Anthony shall not take this well.”

“Be assured, Miss Bridgerton. As I have already explained, Anthony is a good and old friend of mine. He shall find no objection to our courting, and if by some means he should, it matters not. We are pretending. The fruits of our labours have already begun to yield. Look there.”

With a careful glance to your right, you saw the cluster of gentlemen that looked eagerly on at your prance with the duke, curiosity lighting their eyes. Nowhere, however, did you spy your brother.

“They already covet what belongs to another,” Hyunjin whispered, voice low above the shell of your ear. “They are none deterred by your brother, nor by me. You shall have your love match, Miss Bridgerton, and I shall be left in blissful peace from the naggings of my aunt.”

A cool unease set upon you, though you smiled as though in gratitude all the same. What it was in aid of, you could not say; only that you felt it, and not even the warmth of the man that imposed upon you so closely could ease it.

The dance gradually ended and you ruefully stepped away from the viscount, and near immediately were you accosted not by the gentlemen that had watched you from afar, keenly counting their chance, but by the footman that manned your carriage.

“Miss Bridgerton, forgive the interruption—”

“Whatever is it?”

“The Viscount has sent me to escort you home, my lady,” he said.

“Home?” You looked about the observatory. “Where is my brother?”

“He has already retired, my lady, in another carriage.”

“What for?”

“I could not say, my lady. He did seem…”

“He seemed what?”

“W— Well. Upset, my lady? I could not well say why—”

You turned to the duke, who until now had listened sombrely. He met your gaze, and though his smile was meant to offer reassurance, it did no such thing.

“It seems you are required elsewhere, Miss Bridgerton,” he said quietly. “I bid you goodnight.”

“Y— Yes. Goodnight, then,” you said, quite bewildered by your thickness of voice.

“I shall call on you tomorrow.”

“Very well.”

With a curtsy, you began away from him, following the footman through the gathering of lords and ladies that parted for your exit. It did not so much feel like a fall as a long, drawn-out dive into ice cold water.

One from which you might never surface, if you could not find your feet to swim.

*

“The Duke of Hastings is here to call on Miss—”

“Show him in at once!”

This time prepared for the duke’s visit and much inflated by the tale of your dancing with him at the observatory ball (though painful were her lamentations on not witnessing said event), your mother had the sitting room so immaculately arranged with flowers and garlands and refreshments more than anyone present could eat. It was no wonder the man stopped short and broke composure with an inquisitive smile in your direction. One that you could not well return for being awed by his smart dress and handsome composure.

Your mother first approached, greeting him warmly. “You are most welcome, duke. Good morning to you.”

“Good morning, indeed, Lady Bridgerton. How does it find you?”

“Very well, your grace. Very well. There is something of the summer that inspires a skip in one’s step, do you not agree?”

“Quite. I find the season most agreeable.” He turned to you. “I thought I might accompany Miss Bridgerton on a walk about your courtyard, actually. If it pleases her.”

“It most certainly would please her!” Your mother gushed. “Wouldn’t it, my dear?”

You nodded graciously, taken with the suggestion. “I would love to, your grace.”

And so, your mother watched from over her book, under the shaded terrace as you and the duke took to a congenial stroll through the greenery of the courtyard. Bowing willows and hedges aligned flower beds of daises and sunflowers; favourites of your mother to nurture.

“I must thank you for last night, your grace,” you said when out of your mother’s earshot. “The dance was most effective. Though I regret I could not speak to any gentlemen afterwards, I dare say I shall not be lacking for choice at the next social event.”

“You need not thank me, Miss Bridgerton. I am simply upholding my end of the bargain.”

“Of course.”

A moment of silence passed, where you thought of how to word your next question.

“I thought you might have begun to reconsider, in truth.”

“Reconsider?”

“Our… bargain.”

He chuckled. “Why should I reconsider that?”

“Ideas of gulling are often more agreeable in concept than practice. One would be forgiven for having second thoughts. You owe me nothing, after all.”

“I act not out of the goodness of my heart, my lady,” he said. “As I have said, this arrangement benefits me also. Why; after the ball my aunt visited the manor to express her delight on the news of our apparent involvement, and this morning I was subsequently spared from the ritual of rejecting her many offers of introductions to eligible matches.”

“Goodness. One forgets how quickly news travels about the ton.”

“Indeed. So you see, our ruse yields results. I should have no reason to withdraw.”

A quaint, white pagoda nestled at the back of the lawn, its benches warmed by the sunlight that bathed it. Hyunjin gestured to it.

“Shall we sit?”

With a nod, you followed him to the structure, taking up a seat. Hyunjin paced a moment before sitting near, his composure unsettled.

“Is there something on your mind, your grace? Mother is still able to see us, you may rest assured—”

“No, my lady. Apologies. It is not that which vexes me.”

“You are vexed?”

“Since hearing of your brother’s plans and how Lord Berbrooke might fit into them, I have felt unsettled.”

You laughed unceremoniously. “In that, we are the same. He is a most detestable man.”

“You know something of him?”

“I know less than nothing, your grace, and I could not wish more for matters to remain that way.”

“Then, your revulsion—if that is not too strong a word—”

“It is not.”

“Comes from where?”

You wrinkled your nose and thought on it, then simply shrugged. “A feeling.”

Hyunjin narrowed his eyes. “A feeling?”

“Yes. I become quite uneasy when he is near. Something of his manner offends me, and though I speak baselessly, he strikes me as the sort of man that would have no qualms conducting himself improperly. He makes me most uncomfortable.”

“I see.” He crossed his legs, his foot bobbing as he thought, and then said, “His reputation is quite astounding, you know. To speak to other men of him is to listen to them sing his praises. He is known for being kind and wealthy. Of good repute. It is no wonder Anthony approves.”

“And yet?”

“And yet, I am inclined to echo your sentiments, my lady. There is an air of foulness about him. The thought of leaving you in his company unchaperoned irks me greatly.”

So simple a statement, and so rapidly did your heart flutter to it. You pinched your wrist, an effort to ground yourself.

“Make assurances to me that you shall not put yourself in such a situation,” he said firmly.

“Your grace?”

“I do not wish for you to be left unattended with him.”

You scoffed through the thumping that rose to your throat. “I— I can hardly control such a circumstance.”

“Then if you find yourself in such a one, remove yourself from it swiftly. Find me. Find anyone. I cannot emphasise enough how strongly I feel on this. I do not jest.”

He held your gaze, the determination there enough to convey sincerity in his words, for you felt it rolling from him in a great wave of warmth.

“As you wish, your grace,” you said quietly.

He nodded, seemingly satisfied. A moment of silence passed, where the blackbirds from their perches tweeted their melodious tune as they basked in the sun, and the clean, fresh breeze swept your skin. Natural it was that thoughts should wander to the impossible future; how pleasant many more days like this would be, spent in his company, be they silent or not.

“May I ask something, your grace?”

He nodded, his hands clasped as he reposed on the bench.

“When last we spoke at Bridgerton house, you seemed troubled.”

“Troubled? I do not recall.”

“We were discussing family. How I was raised to the example of a loving marriage, and how grateful I should be for that.”

Hyunjin’s jaw set firm. “I see. Yes. It comes back to me now.” He swallowed. “I suppose something of the topic did trouble me, if I am to be truthful.”

“Why, your grace?”

“It is hardly a tale for such a fine day.”

“Then should we wait for it to rain? I believe autumn to be a long way from now, your grace.”

He rose from the bench, shoulders squaring as he strolled to the balustrade and looked out over the green.

“You may speak freely,” you said. “I would not have asked if I did not wish to hear it.”

“And I am grateful that your curiosity implores you to ask anything of me at all, my lady,” he sighed. “But all I would have you know at this moment is that…” He turned to you, golden strands drifting about his face. “Is that I was not so privileged as you in my upbringing. Lady Danbury did her best for me, and as I have already stated, I am eternally grateful for her kindness, but mine was not a loving childhood. My father was possessed of firm expectations and did not suffer fools easily. He bore no love for my mother. Theirs was a transactional marriage, and it costed my mother more than she should ever have had to pay.”

To hear him speak so candidly did more to move you than you had hitherto thought it could, and this was none aided by the pain in his eyes.

“Your grace…”

“That is all I wish to say of it,” he said, voice thick. “You understand.”

And though burning with so much more than curiosity as a result of his opening the door, albeit only a crack, you could not well press him further.

“Of course,” you smiled.

He nodded, took a deep breath, looked out over the green and up at the sky, where the sunlight warmed his face. What pain he lived through shaped him, you supposed, and though it could have made him cruel and cold, he did not seem so.

“We should return indoors,” he eventually said. “Before the heat sends us queer.”

“Yes. Let’s.”

Slowly you returned to the house, shoulders brushing innocently, steps taken in time. You were in no rush to be done with his company, and by his gait, neither was he.

“Done already?” your mother called when you were near. “I suppose it is thirsty work! Come, we have lemonade prepared!”

“You are most kind, Lady Bridgerton.”

Lemonade was taken in the sitting room, deliciously fragrant and refreshing, cooling your sensibilities that always seemed to warm beyond reason when the duke was near. Too easy was it to forget that this entire charade was precisely that when he acted with such dedication.

“Hwang? What on earth are you doing here?”

Hyunjin rose immediately, lemonade set aside.

“Viscount. Good to see you.”

Anthony’s expression stern, he hardly returned the sentiment. His question hung in the air unanswered, and so Hyunjin cleared his throat.

“I thought to call on your sister,” he said. “Lady Bridgerton has been a most gracious chaperone—”

“A word. Outside.”

*

Hyunjin hadn’t much considered that Anthony might protest his courting of his sister. He had rather been counting on the opposite. Silly, really, that it only struck him as he exited the Bridgerton house to the rear courtyard, where the viscount paced strongly back and forth.

“Explain yourself,” he said. “Immediately.”

“I have given you explanation.”

“You call on my sister? What for?”

“What do men call upon women during the social season for?” Hyunjin scoffed.

“I forbid it.”

“What?”

Anthony stopped, his stance stiff. “To dance with her last night was insult enough, but to now call on her at our family home is an abject act of mockery. You make a fool of me. You will cease your attempts to court her. I forbid it.”

“Anthony, old friend, you have lost yourself. Surely you cannot object to—”

“I have every reason to object,” he hissed, now stepping closer. “You think I do not recall the days of university? How loose you were? How the life and soul of the party and all its debauchery begun and ended with you? And that is to speak nothing of what ‘business’ you have been engaging in abroad these last years. I will not have such improper affairs connected to my family.”

Hyunjin’s jaw ticked. “I was hardly alone in the days of our youth, Anthony. As I recall, you were as much partial to the liquor and women as I. I could say the same of your present day conduct.”

“Do not attempt to turn this back on me. My virtue is not the one in question.”

“Perhaps it should be.”

“You walk on thin ice, Hwang. This is my sister we are discussing. She is my responsibility. She is family. Do what you must with whatever women take your fancy of the eve, but do not come into my family home with pretences of doing right by her. I know you.”

“I do not profess to being without fault,” Hyunjin said. “But is a man not allowed to change? Do you not think I would take the greatest care imaginable of her? Even more so for the bond that exists between us?”

Anthony’s nostrils flared. “You have no interest in marriage. Have said as such since I have known you. That cannot have changed with but a few chance encounters. There is something afoot—”

“Anthony, for heaven’s sake—”

“There is something afoot.” He said resolutely. “And I shall not allow you to drag my sister into scandal and discontent. Keep your distance from her.”

With a final glare, he about-faced and stormed across the courtyard. A gathering of darkened clouds drifted across the pellucid sky, blotting the summer sun.

“You shall not keep me from her, Bridgerton,” Hyunjin called, his voice clear and unwavering.

Anthony stopped, turned back.

“Then we shall settle this by our honour. Friend.”

*

Next day, the Duke of Hastings endeavoured to call on you once more, this time without himself making an appearance.

His horse and carriage trotted up to the steps of your home, where a page disembarked with clear instructions that he read aloud to you and your flustered mother.

“The Duke of Hastings cordially invites Lady Bridgerton and Miss Bridgerton to take tea and refreshments at his manor this morning until noon, and if it pleases your ladyships, would be most honoured to host them for dinner.”

So it was that your mother accompanied you in the duke’s carriage for a journey that lasted three quarters of an hour, the duration of which she chatted excitedly and showered praises on the duke for the ‘most proper’ occasion. Indeed, it stopped only when you arrived before the grand entrance of a stunning country manor— a quintessential summer home surrounded by blooming nature.

Escorted by servants up the steps and into the lobby where you were received by yet another entourage of house staff, you were much awed by the state of the place— while indeed impressive and grand on most every imaginable scale, it radiated something of a cold loneliness. Perceptible only to you, perhaps, for your mother’s delight was none dampened.

“What a beautiful home!” she gushed adoringly. “How the duke must love to spend his summers here, don’t you think, my dear?”

As though invited by mention of his rank, the duke stepped out from an adjoining room, his dress casual in light of residing at home. The white shirt that was tucked loosely into black britches hung open at the neckline, revealing a slope of skin that to your starved mind, seemed most illicit.

“Lady Bridgerton,” he beamed, stepping forward to greet your mother. “I do hope you will allow my state of dress; I measured that making this a more casual affair might help us get to know one another better. Formalities so often stiffen things, I find.”

“Of course! Naturally! How honoured we are by the invitation, your grace! We thank you most kindly.”

“Nonsense. You honour me with your presence, my lady. You have hosted me graciously before now. It seemed only right I return the favour. Please, come through.”

To the sitting room you were shown where tea was served, and expecting that the duke might lavish on you the attentions you were (perhaps foolishly) becoming accustomed to, you were disappointed to feel somewhat surplus to requirement, as he instead made your mother the focus of discussion. They talked contentedly of their interests, and covered most topics you yourself would have liked to unravel with the duke, but your mother seemed none perturbed by your stoic silence and occasional input in the form of a forced smile here or there. When conversation moved to that of your late father, so directed by the duke, you found the role of wallflower had rather overstayed its welcome.

You set your teacup aside and rose from sitting. “Might I be excused, your grace?”

Hyunjin blinked. “My lady?”

“I would very much like to walk the grounds, if I may. It displeases me to be cooped up indoors on so lovely a day.”

Nary a second did you wait for his answer, making a swift exit out the room and through the luxurious reception. Outside, the summer sun warmed the stone and grass, its radiant caress doing something to ease the discomfort that appeared to have driven you to such impatience.

You began to walk, neither direction nor destination in mind. Quickly at first, as your inward distress dictated, and then slower as you approached the hedgerows that formed a snug path into a winding maze. How odd you felt; at such unrest but unable to pinpoint why. Was it that Hyunjin’s attentions had been solely for entertaining your mother? Was it this place, that exuded such outward beauty but felt so void of joy or hearth? Was it simply your own mind endeavouring to play tricks?

These thoughts you mulled over as you walked the narrow paths of the maze, sunlit corridors shaded by keen, leafy branches that had grown beyond their remit. Gravel crunched beneath your feet, the air warmed your skin, and after a while of strolling, it seemed your nerves began to settle.

“Miss Bridgerton!”

Until they spiked once more. From around the corner of a hedgerow, the duke appeared, concern etched to his face the like of which you’d never seen. A jacket had been thrown about his shoulders, but did little to conceal the thin cotton of his gaping shirt and toned planes of skin beneath. You cursed your fluttering heart.

“I searched all the grounds for you,” he said breathlessly, stopping a foot from your person. “You had me worried.”

“Whatever for?” you laughed. “I am quite safe here, am I not?”

“Well, yes, but—”

“Concern yourself none, your grace. Return to my mother. No doubt she awaits your undivided attentions.”

With a curt nod, you rounded the man and walked beyond him.

“You are upset,” he said pointedly, following.

“I am no such thing.”

“Have I neglected you this morning, my lady?”

“That you ask at all means you are aware of the answer. Do not toy with me, your grace. I find no amusement in it.”

“My apologies. It was not my intention to offend.”

“Your apology is unnecessary. You owe me nothing. This is a business deal. My frustration is my own; I am the fool for allowing emotion to become me.”

“Is one not allowed to become emotional over business?”

“You were the one dictated that we must approach this rationally, your grace.”

“I dictated on the matter of love, my lady. I spoke nothing of other emotions.”

“Well, then. This being my first business venture, I am none equipped to answer your question. You should be the one to tell me. Have you ever wept for a deal gone awry?”

Hyunjin bounded several steps ahead, putting himself in your path. Narrower still the natural corridors became, and unable to circumvent him easily, you stopped. His eyes softened, yet the concern held firm. So able to take your breath away with a mere look.

“You have been weeping?” he asked softly.

You shook your head. “No, your grace.”

“Good. There is no need. I have my reasons for tending to your mother so closely.”

“Such as?”

“Such as ensuring our deal does not go awry,” he said. “Lady Bridgerton’s approval may yet sway Anthony to us. Her support is important.”

“I thought you were assured that Anthony would approve of you?”

Hyunjin’s jaw ticked. “Yes. Well. I was.”

“And are not now?”

“Circumstances have changed. It seems he does not hold me with the regard I presumed upon.”

You cocked your head. “And why would that be?”

“It matters not.”

“Do not withhold from me, your grace. If there is something I should know—”

“You need know only what I share with you,” he said sternly. “I am loath to have one more Bridgerton persecute me by their astute moral compass.”

Taken aback by the outburst, you folded your arms, confident in the face of his glare.

“Might my brother disapprove because you are, in truth, no better than the men he is so prejudiced against? Because you too visit the gentleman’s clubs and gallivant your affections listlessly? Because you, just like my brother, have a violent discontent for the honest institution of marriage that you thought you could well conceal, but have inevitably failed to?”

Hyunjin blinked as though struck. His glare faded, his stance easing.

“Honestly.” You shook your head. “To be spared from the ridiculous egos of men for just a day would be too grand a wish.”

With that, you moved to dismiss him, rounding his side closely, and as though your proximity awakened him, he swiftly turned and caught your wrist.

“Your grace—”

“You presume much about me,” he said, an edge to his voice that felt near sinister. He took a step closer; you retreated to feel hedge at your back. Your heart pounded, pulse leaping about your throat. “I will not suffer such insult of character from a girl fed by silver spoon. You know nothing of me— nothing of what I have suffered or the lengths I must attend to warm my bed when sleep eludes me every single night.” He leaned in, so close as for his breath to fan over your lips. “But I imagine you should like to find out, my lady.”

Such vitriol laced the address as to make your stomach turn over, yet it was not with fear. A heat had begun to bloom in the lowest recesses of your belly, and even lower still, a region of your body as yet utterly sheltered.

“Do I speak falsely?” he asked.

Never had you experienced the sensation of standing on a precipice. The meagre shake of your head betrayed your wants, for truly, you did wish to find out. Hyunjin smirked, his gaze dropping to your lips.

“When I am alone in my bed, and all is dark and the world has left me, I am haunted by demons that whisper of my mistakes. They come to me when I am vulnerable, and I am ill-equipped to drive them away, so I indulge them— some of them. Those of them that promise to sing me to sleep should I give them just a moments’ attention. I drift with them, and they take me to where I might find comfort in the quick warmth of flesh.” He lifted his hand, brought his fingertip to your throat. Barely a touch, yet you could not breathe. “I chase pleasure, my lady, exerting myself in the act until my limbs give out and my mind is a chasm of emptiness.”

Your chest heaved for breath. His finger ran down your neck, to your decolletage, along the seam of your bodice that pressed tightly to your bosom.

“If that condemns me as a wicked man, so be it,” he muttered.

Over your breast and to your stomach did his finger draw a tender line, his attention solely focused on your every miniscule reaction. If inside, you felt to combust, he surely would have known it.

“But I assure you— to be condemned feels unlike anything you have ever experienced, sweet girl.”

Faces so close you could make out the pores of his skin, it was a mortifying whimper that escaped you when the man wrapped an arm around your waist, propping you against the hedge well with his thigh wedged snug between your legs; so forceful as to liquidate your bones, and you were helpless to resist, honour and virtue be damned. A flex of the muscle—even cushioned by your frock and petticoat—was felt distinctly, and the heat in your belly sank and gathered, quivering with anticipation. You ran hot under the skin, unable to grasp a lungful of air, for the man was so close that all sensation was of him. Him— so unthinkably beautiful and strong, wealthy and good.

Him. So utterly unattainable.

“Is this good enough, my lady?” he whispered.

“I... What?”

“Have you enough of my affection to curb your jealousy?”

You could hardly think rationally, unable to make sense of the words.

“This shall be the last time we find ourselves alone together.”

Too cruelly did he disentangle himself to leave you collapsed on the grass. With his jacket rearranged and a surreptitious pull of his britches (for what reason, you knew not), he stalked off through the maze.

How intemperately your heart thundered as you gathered yourself.

How hopelessly you were falling for the man that spurned love.

*

The duke had made a terrible mistake.

What sort of a fool betrays his own values so spectacularly as he? To scheme a ruse that would fool the ton and his aunt was one thing. To fall into it himself was quite another. For he was adamant on the matter of love and all its facets; he needed it not and would reject it until the day he met his end, grisly as it would probably be. He would not be the man that repeated his fathers’ mistakes.

She was just a girl. A Bridgerton girl, yes, and thus generally set apart from the wider female populace for good reasons pertaining to her beauty and wit, but still— just a girl. Diamond or not, she knew nothing of the world or its evils, nothing of life beyond what existed in her small and sheltered bubble. She could offer him no excitement of culture or music, language or arts beyond what she had read of in her books, and yet she excited him greatly; more so than any other woman he had yet met, and among those ranks stood singers and actresses, designers and poets, women of real repute.

What possessed him to impose upon her like that? Had he lost the last of his wits? Was he so frustrated in desire that he simply moved for the nearest outlet? Somehow, he knew better. It was neither in his nature nor his want to objectify so blatantly, heated confession as to his proclivities notwithstanding. He kept company through the darker nights when madness threatened his door, and if for that, Anthony was intent on shunning him, there was little he could ultimately do. He could only pray that her lingering in his thoughts would pass, and was due to stress or some other such imbalance of the mind— the sooner this season was over and he could return overseas to normalcy, the better.

Thankful that Lady Bridgerton deemed it best they return home for dinner for reasons pertaining to the youngest of her brood, the duke sat in his study and made work of his third whiskey. Try as he might, he could not stop his thoughts from wandering. The softness of her gaze tormented him; how closely her eyes seemed to plead for something she knew nothing of but would weep with pleasure to discover. What care he would take of her, so soft and sweet and delicate. What delightful sounds she would make, akin to the small whimper she let slip when he exacted just a meagre tenth of the desire that frothed inside him. She was perfectly untouched, as pure as winter’s first snow, begging to be undone by his hand though she spoke not a single word. With her, it would be so much more than a means to an end. He might even enjoy it. No— he would.

The swelling in his groin betrayed his lust— a first for him that such thoughts alone were capable of rousing him to occasion, but so was all of this new. Never before had he craved to corrupt such innocence. Never before had he felt such innocence craved it just as much, for there was no pretence of want in her eyes that morning, and he knew it well. He knew it awfully.

He knew it would all end in pain.

*

Several days passed with an absence of the duke. Your lamentation was quiet.

Not so concerned were you with the matter of your virtue, for by conventional standards and as far as you understood it, nothing tangible had occurred between you in the maze. A closeness of proximity could hardly condemn one to spinsterhood. Rather, you found yourself much yearning for the man. Missing him. Ludicrous, for he was naught but a business partner, and an effective one at that.

Gentlemen called on you sporting bouquets and gifts of sweets, all of them most preferable to the ogre that was Lord Berbrooke— whom coincidentally, you had neither seen nor heard from since the duke had made his ‘affections’ for you public. Sometimes as many as five gentlemen a day made their introductions, and you found yourself quite spent by dusk.

“They are all most pleasant suitors, I do not dispute that,” said your mother over supper. “I merely observe that they do not have much to recommend them compared to the Duke of Hastings. I dare imagine there is a man that would!”

And so in the matter of your mother’s approval, it seemed the duke had excelled. A shame that it would ultimately come to nothing, and doubly shameful that you could not bring yourself to sway her to thoughts of one of the many men that had imposed upon you, for you could do no such thing yourself. Try as you might, it seemed not one of them was able to rid you of thoughts of the duke. Perhaps the right one had not yet come along, you reasoned. It seemed not so mammoth a task to be turned from a man that did not even want you, after all. Your heart could not be long for him, if it even was at all, for you knew not what love felt like and could just as easily draw these sensations up to a peculiar turn of health— which would certainly explain the bouts of fever and giddy breathlessness you experienced in his presence.

All this you considered during the carriage ride to the midsummer ball, hosted at the queen’s own residence in the country. Last year it had been the topic of much excitable talk about the ton, and this year stood to be no different. Arriving at dusk to the mansion that boasted four separate wings and enough rooms to accommodate each guest of the party and then some, you marvelled at its majesty. To think that one person could possess such riches!

The structure rose high, illuminated by sconces and tall, standing braziers of coloured flame; dancing plumes of blue, pink and purple cast their shadows on the stone walls, and would have been eerie had they not been scented so sweetly. A red carpet had been rolled out across the neat gravel that itself circled a grand, running fountain, its centrepiece that of a marble woman in prayer. Lords and ladies made their excited entrances quickly, keen to discover the marvels of what lay inside; and a marvel it was. The queen had spared no expense on decoration or entertainment, the ballroom inside transformed to an elegant take on the Cirque du Soleil— from the great domed ceiling were suspended rings wound with wildflowers on which gymnasts twirled and performed. About the crowd mingled entertainers on high stilts dressed with parlour tricks and glamours that delighted ladies and challenged the men. Great and regal birds perched contentedly on the gloved arms of their masked hosts, who encouraged those curious enough to come closer, to take a look. Colours and sounds and exotic scents such as you had never before experienced accosted your senses to much wonder, driving from you all nerves you had inherited during the journey.

On your entrance flocked a number of gentlemen keen to secure from you a promise of a dance, and how happily you fell into conversation with them, feeling ever more like the potential for romance might finally bloom. You felt light, as though suspended on one of the ceiling rings yourself.

Lady Danbury made herself known to you and your mother, clad (as was traditional for her) in a colourful array of satins.

“Might we be expecting the duke in attendance this evening?” your mother asked her, ever hopeful. “We have not seen him at Bridgerton house for several days.”

Lady Danbury’s face drew solemn. “Speak not to me of my nephew. He does his utmost to bring me despair.”

“However could you mean?”

“For many months I have had words with him on the matter of courtship and marriage. I was well prepared for my pleas to be ignored as they have been, but imagine my delight to see him making efforts with you, Miss Bridgerton! I thought, perhaps, his mind had changed.”

“He is against marriage?” your mother asked, shocked.

Lady Danbury shook her head. “His heart is hardened by the years of his youth. Such a difficult time he had of things. His mother passed during childbirth and his father was none suited to the task of fatherhood, utterly without love for the boy. I have never known such a cruel, cold creature. I shudder to imagine what might have become of him had I not taken him in, and it awes me every day to know the man he is now. I am endlessly proud of him, Lady Bridgerton, but he suffers the sins of his father as though they are his own. It saddens me greatly.”

You listened to the conversation, breath caught. He had alluded to his upbringing on your enquiries, but had kept much of it from you, for reasons that you supposed pertained to his pain. How much pain indeed! Could it be that this explained his aversion to love, to marriage, to wanting children? Such was the urge to take him in an embrace and assure him that all would be well— if only you possessed the courage.

“His mind must be changed, Lady Danbury. He has courted my daughter with clear intention; I have seen it myself, the way they alight one another when they are together. Whatever is responsible for this distance, we must fix it. Perhaps he has been repelled by the other gentleman that have called on her?”

Lady Danbury scoffed a laugh. “I find that highly unlikely.”

“Then there is nothing for it,” your mother turned to you sharply. “Seek him out, dear. Assert yourself upon him and assuage his worries.”

“I shall do no such thing, mother.”

“Why ever not?”

“Because he is not the only man in the ton. There are many other gentlemen here I should like to get to know.”

Your mother laughed. “Nonsense! I have watched numerous gentlemen court you these days just gone, and not a one of them has titillated you as the duke did!”

“What would you know of it?” you snapped, so emotional as to forget yourself. “What would anyone know of it? I am positively sick of being told whom I must and must not entertain, what I can and cannot feel. I should rather prefer to be left well alone so my own mind might be decided.”

Lady Danbury smiled wryly. Your mother blinked in shock.

“Please excuse me.”

With a curt bow you departed from them, as adequately mortified by your own outburst as by the fact that your mother seemed so easily able to read you. Through the gathering you navigated as best you could, stepping out to a veranda that overlooked the mansion’s rear courtyard. It was quieter here, the din of partygoers and shrill of the brass band reduced to a pleasant background buzz. It allowed for a catching of breath, where you settled yourself and decided an apology was probably due to your mother. Later.

The courtyard stretched out before you, its lush green lawn lit by standing sconces that emitted haloes of amber light. Arrangements of flower beds and animals shaped from the rose bushes were much delightful to look upon, and not a soul thought to disturb you.

“It is disrespect of the highest degree, Hwang. You must see that.”

Your heart seized as a raised voice floated to you.

“Then I cannot win, Bridgerton. I am damned if I am too close to her, I am damned if I retreat. What would you have me do?”

Looking over the veranda’s balustrade and down to the courtyard, you saw the silhouettes of two strong frames you knew well cast over the stone, though they themselves remained just out of sight.

“I demand that you make your intentions clear. Assure me that you intend to ask for my sister’s hand, and I shall grant my blessing. A man’s word is his bond.”

“The whole ton knows of my intentions. Have you not heard the gossip?”

“I know better than to alight any credence to the rumour mill that drives this society. I know you, more importantly. Why can you not simply offer promise of marriage to my sister when you have made a show of courting her to that end? Why do you find such difficulty in so simple a thing?”

“I find no difficulty in it. I find insult.”

“Insult?!” Anthony laughed hoarsely. “You jest, surely!”

“You call into question my integrity. My honour.”

“Then take action, Hwang. Make me the fool, prove me wrong. Convince me that your courting of my sister is not some ploy, the ends of which I can only speculate to.”

Silence fell. Fire in the sconces crackled. Your skin tingled with anticipation.

“You cannot,” Anthony said.

“I will entertain this conversation no longer.”

“You are a coward.”

“Careful, Bridgerton.”

“You are the one should be careful. You have toyed with my sister, dragged her into your affairs and pressed upon her expectations.”

 “She has no expectations of me, Anthony. Of that, I can assure you.”

“Do you find it amusing to make a fool of her? Of me? Of my family? Would not any young lady from the ton have sufficed for your games?”

“That is enough.”

“Shall I tell you what it is wounds me most, Hwang? Of all this?”

A beat of silence passed; Anthony spoke again.

“I was at first outraged to learn of your calling on my sister. We exchanged cross words, and my anger continued still, until the family dinner that eve. Never have I seen a woman glow such as my sister did that night. It seemed as though a flame had been ignited under her skin, and that all was hope and excitement. I was forced to reconsider my prejudices. Could a man that brought her such joy truly be as roguish as I hitherto perceived? I struggled to comprehend it, and so I thought I would allow you to continue. Perhaps I was wrong to indulge my curiosity, but I acted from the goodness of my heart, and furthermore, saw yours. I kept myself scarce and allowed things to take their course, objected not when you invited her to tea. I know I detected sincerity about you. The truth of the matter cannot be concealed when it shows so abundantly in your eyes.”

Another beat of silence.

“I am informed you have not called on her this week. Why?”

“The other men of the ton have kept her occupied.”

Anthony laughed. “And yet, it is not other men that she wants. You have seen well to that.”

You heard footsteps, the silhouette of your brother wavering.

“I neither know nor care what games you play, Hwang, but from this moment on, you shall play them with someone else. Leave my sister be. I beg you. Please.”

With that, his shadow disappeared from sight, your eyes so blurred with the makings of tears miraculously able to see it. There was the huff of a deep breath, and measured footsteps as Hyunjin appeared from under the veranda, his state of dishevelment such a shock as to bring you to gasp. He whirled around and looked up, your eyes meeting in the dim light. What grief struck his expression surely matched your own.

“Go inside, my lady,” he said, voice gruff. “The evening draws cold.”

A whirl of indignation possessed you.

“Is that all you have to say, your grace?” you called.

He hung his head, his demeanour so unlike what you knew. He shook his head, raked a hand through his silken locks that caught the golden light of the nearby brazier.

“It seems I am unable to trust my words this eve,” he said. “They irk all who hear them.”

“That is because they are dishonest.”

He looked up at you once more, his jaw feathering as his lips pressed thinly.

“Come down, my lady. I should like to speak with you.”

“Come up here, your grace. The view of the courtyard is most agreeable.”

With something resembling a smile, Hyunjin nodded. He buttoned his jacket as he began into the mansion, once more disappearing from your view. How the minutes seemed to prolong as you awaited him on the veranda, each second weighing heavily on you until he called your name—

“Ah! The fair Miss Bridgerton!”

A shiver of revulsion possessed you— that was not how he called your name.

It was with a bout of horror that you turned and saw Lord Berbrooke barrelling towards you, his suit too small for his podgy frame and his beard as wildly untamed as what little hair yet clung to his bonce for dearest life.

“You are all alone out here!” he exclaimed, draining the flute in his hand and tossing it carelessly aside. “A lady so dainty as yourself should not be left unattended.”

“I was in need of some air. I am quite content to be left alone.”

“No, no. You mustn't be,” he drawled. “All manner of horror awaits the unsuspecting young lady.”

“As I am coming to learn,” you muttered.

He came closer still, near enough that the reek of liquor spoke for him.

“I must confess dear, that I eagerly await the day of our nuptials!”

“Excuse me?”

“Perhaps it is gross of me to admit, but I am not so cold-hearted a man! I am as susceptible to love’s pinch as any other! Miss Bridgerton—” He stumbled and caught himself on the balustrade. “You shall make for me, a most pleasing wife.”

“Lord Berbrooke, you presume far too much. You have made no such proposal to me, and if I may speak frankly, I should decline if you did.”

“My dear,” he cackled, throaty and vile. “The proposal is not yours to decline. The viscount is in hearty agreement with me! The deal is made! You are already mine!”

Icy trickles of fear seized your limbs with a wave of nausea. Lord Berbrooke guffawed louder still, and made as though to reach for you, his grubby hands keen in their search. “Come, my dear. We need not pretend any longer. Let us get ahead of the consummation—”

What happened next was so utterly quick you might have blinked and missed it. Lord Berbrooke lunged with delight in his eyes, and yet his advances were short. He was dragged backward by the collar and thrown to the ground in a heap, where the sole of a firm foot pinned him by the chest. Above the man did the Duke of Hastings loom, his expression thunderous.

“If you value either your reputation or your life, Lord Berbrooke,” he snarled. “I suggest you leave here and never again darken Miss Bridgerton’s door.”

“Get your damn foot off me—”

“You will relent in your attempts to marry her and leave her be. Am I understood?”

“What?! How dare you—”

“Else the entire ton shall know of your improper advances on the young lady by morning light, and you shall be shunned from all you know, dropped from all deals of business, exiled as a vagabond and a villain. How do you think the viscount might take to such information?”

Hyunjin pressed his foot into Berbrooke’s chest, resulting in a hog-like squeal.

“Am I understood?”

“Yes! Yes!”

“Say it,” Hyunjin snapped.

“I will leave the girl alone! Consider it done! Release me! Please!”

The man removed his foot; Lord Berbrooke scrambled to his feet, clutching his chest and panting. With a glare of immeasurable hatred, he stumbled from the veranda and into the mansion, scarcely looking back. Had you known that was the last time you would ever see Lord Berbrooke in your lifetime, you might have mustered a smile. As it stood, you were too horrified to much move or speak.

Hyunjin collected himself and turned to you.

“My apologies, my lady. I wish you had not seen that.”

You shook your head. “Thank you.”

“You need not thank me. Any decent man would have acted the same.” He stepped near. “Did he put hands on you?”

“No. I do not think—”

Hyunjin reached out, and from the waistline of your dress caught a thin strip of ribbon that seemed as though ripped loose. He ran it between his fingers, his eyes narrowing sharply.

“I should have made haste.”

“It is nothing the modiste cannot mend.” You took his hand, entirely thoughtless in doing so. “Truly, I am fine.”

He hung his head, strands of gold falling about his features. His hand stilled in yours, warm skin doing nothing more than brushing softly.

“I fear I have made a terrible mistake, my lady,” he whispered.

“How so?”

He looked at you, his hazel eyes warm, yet sad.

“It would appear that... in my efforts to assist you with the matter of your finding love, I have myself fallen.”

You swallowed. “You have found someone?”

“Indeed, I have. Foolishly, I have. I have attempted to distance myself from her, but she invades my every thought. Her name carries on my every breath. There is nothing I can do to avail myself of this torment.”

“Have you confessed as such to her, your grace?”

“I cannot. She believes me dishonest, I am sure, among other things.”

“You might be mistaken,” you whispered. “One must always account for intent.”

“My intentions were selfish.”

“And are they still?”

He searched your face, the fire light from the near brazier dancing on his flawless complexion.

“Yes,” he breathed.

The background lull of music from the ball seemed to cease. The man flicked a gaze from your eyes to your lips, the suggestion such that your heart lurched and drove you the step toward him that closed your bodies near; he drew tense, his hold on your hand firming as he slotted his fingers between yours. His other hand found your cheek, sure yet afraid, and it was by your unrelenting gaze that you drew him in to kiss you.

His lips were as tender as to break your heart, and in the embrace did your sensibilities unravel like tumbling yarn. One kiss, then another just as soft, and by the third you clutched his jacket as though he might disappear.

When he broke away, it was with a high flush on his cheekbones. He licked his full bottom slowly.

“The taste of a diamond,” he whispered. “How painfully I have longed for it.”

“Your grace...”

“You must think me a monster.”

You took his face in your hands. “Do not presume to know my thoughts. I shall tell you them myself. You need only ask.”

“I fear I am not so brave as that, my lady.”

“You were brave enough to kiss me just a moment ago. Brave enough to face my brother in the name of upholding our bargain. Brave enough to aid me when I believed all hope lost.”

“I acted in my own interests.”

“As did I.”

“There is... much you do not know of me.”

“Much that I look forward to discovering, when you are ready and the time is right.”

He sighed as though exasperated, yet the weight of it was light.

“You vex me, my lady.”

“I should say the same of you, your grace.” You swept your thumbs over his cheekbones, his lids fluttering. “You insisted so strongly on the goodness of your character, and yet when faced with acceptance, attempted to paint yourself a villain. Forgive me if I speak out of turn, but I must have you know— you are not the man your father was, and neither are you doomed to repeat his mistakes.”

Pained was the expression that crossed him, his breath catching sharply.

“Do you truly wish to spend all your days alone?” you asked on a whisper.

“Not anymore, my lady.”

“Then do not attempt to push me away with talk of your devils. I shall accept them all, horns and wings alike.”

He turned into your palm, revelling in the touch. He clasped your wrist and pressed plush lips to the warm, soft skin.

“You have altered all I thought I knew,” he said. “I am utterly taken with you, Miss Bridgerton. I am in love, and you were quite right; it is to be celebrated. I wish to tell all who attend this ball that you are the woman that has bewitched me, mind and soul, such that I do not even know myself or these things I say. I feel driven mad, and yet never has a course of action been clearer to me.”

With another a kiss to your palm, he dropped to his knee, clutching your hand with both of his.

“Marry me, my lady. If you can return even a sliver of my feelings, make of me an honest man and I shall take care of you for all our days. You shall want for no comfort, long for no affection. It shall be all I can do to satisfy and delight you.”

Choked with the onset of emotion, it hardly seemed true that such a thing could be happening; that the Duke of Hastings could be proposing.

“What say you, my lady?”

You squeezed his hand tenderly, your heart so full of warmth. How reminiscent it all seemed, and to that end:

“You have a deal, your grace,” you said, utterly giddy.

Hyunjin laughed, his eyes crescent with joy that alighted him. He rose from his kneel, took you into his embrace.

“Excellent,” he said softly. “Though I must make one thing abundantly clear.”

“Oh?”

“I am of the belief that keeping separate bedrooms is a terribly archaic practice.”

“Meaning what, your grace?”

“Meaning...” He kissed you once more, and spoke against your sweet lips. “There shall be no rest for you tonight, nor the next, nor on any night to come, my lady. You are mine, forevermore.”

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙯 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 ♡ >

strawberries and cream with hyunjin🍓

-suggestive themes (its all very soft)

hyunjin hummed away, as he took a bite of the strawberry. you dipped one in the whipped sweet cream, relishing its sweetness.

"the strawberries are extra sweet this season" you shook your head, throwing him a side eye when he reached for the same one as you. before you could reach it, he gobbled it down whole.

"hyunjinnnn" he smiled, his teeth stained with a lightish pink juice.

it was a peaceful silence as he doodled away in his sketchbook. you too were writing down some stories in your diary.

the two bowls, one of strawberries and another of cream sat between the two of you. he was on one side of the couch and you on the other side, using the armrest to keep your book steady.

the sunlight peeked through the gap between the curtains, just enough to light up the room with a yellow haze.

"oh nooo" you let out, stuffing the berry in your mouth before anymore cream could fall on you.

you looked around for a handtowel on the table behind, freezing when you felt his breath on your neck. his warm breath was followed by an even warmer sensation.

he licked the cream off. making sure to run his tongue over the spot. giving you a soft smile he went back to what he was doing. you blinked multiple times, brain refusing to form sentences.

"it couldve fallen on the couch" he mumbled. he faced you, eyes focused on your lips. hesitantly you ran your sleeve over it.

"c'mere"

you scooted closer, carefully. he cupped your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips on yours.

"you always make a mess"

you could feel your cheeks heat up, when he pulled away, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip, which had cream all over it.

"you don't want me to write, do you" you commented, realising this was his way of asking for attention.

"and now, you don't want me to go back to sketching, do you?" he tilted his head in a cute way. a smile threatening to erupt.

of course you didn't want him to. in fact from the second he sharpened his pencil, you wished he would look at you with the same eagerness.

you picked up a strawberry. now being extra careful, dipped it in the cream.

"hyunjinnie, open wide ahhh" you said in a baby voice, moving it around just like how babies are fed. he giggled opening his mouth.

"is it delicious hm, my baby" you cooed, patting under his chin. hyunjin hummed, eyes going all puppylike.

"you know what would make it even better?"

"hm?"

he extended his arm, pulling you to him by the base of your neck. your eyes widened.

"say ahhh"

you did as he said. he kissed you. pushing it into your mouth. the fruity juices ran down the corners of your mouth. he seemed to notice, immediately pulling you even closer. licking it up desperately.

you moved away, head slightly throbbing from the aftertaste of the kiss. his soft lips still lingering on yours

"don't do that" you muttered, feeling your heart beat increase.

you placed your hands on his chest, pushing him lightly. he took another, holding it to your mouth, waiting for you to take it from him. pressing his thumb against my bottom lip, he kept your mouth open.

"one more" he whispered, kissing you much deeper this time. it was slow, almost a little too slow. you were starting to get impatient as he explored at his own pace. arms looped around his neck to hold him there, you weren't going to let him get away. your book and pen falling off your lap onto the floor. he himself, mindlessly took his sketchbook, throwing it on the table behind.

all while he chased your lips.

your fingers tangled up in his long hair.

hyunjin gasped as you pulled at his locks.. now looking at you with pure need.

pure love.

your eyes trailed down to where reminants of pink cream had dripped down his chin. you tugged his hair, loving the way his breath hitched.

"another strawberry please" he teased.

annoyed!hyunjin

you decide to say sorry in your own way~

-contains suggestive themes

"pay attention to me?" hyunjin asked for the 4th time. you hummed, disagreeing. you could feel his eyes on you. they were still at mcountdown. he had about an hour until the actual recording.

the others had gone to get something to eat while felix and han were rolling around on the floor. jisung had fallen asleep right next to your leg. you stared at the words in your textbook, or tried to. hyunjin was stuffing cereal into his mouth, his eyes following whatever you were reading.

"look at me" he pleaded but you spared him no glance. you hadn't even realised he was sulking. the door shut and you looked up after what seemed like hours.

hyunjin had walked out. you didn't think much of it. that was until he refused to talk to you for the rest of the day. you also had pride so you weren't one to beg for his attention.

"hyunjinnn" you called out, a big smile on your face. your heart dropping when he locked eyes with you for less that a second. going back to his conversation with a staff member. time had past you sat on the couch, watching them practice.

you slowly began to get sleepy even though the music was loud enough to keep you awake. you laid down, curling into a ball. drifting into dreamland.

when you woke up next, you shuffled around. something was different. what you were laying on was softer yet firmer. it all made sense when you heard hyunjin's voice above you. no, he wasn't talking to you. he was discussing something- their positions or where they were to walk around on stage to changbin. a few minutes passed and you heard the door close. was practice done?! no unfortunately.

you squinted, lights very bright for your comfort, admiring his face. how could he look this good for an angle made to look people bad?

you could feel his fingers very subtly running through your hair. and his other hand outstretched to pat your thigh. the moment he looked down at you, you shut your eyes, moving closer to him. your face against his stomach. trying your best to not make it look like you were actually awake, you slid your arm behind him, holding on to this lower waist.

all you could smell was him. heat radiated off of him and he smelt....musky. like he had just danced his butt off.

finally you opened your eyes. he took notice of it. his hands moving away to rest against the backrest of the black couch.

oh...so he was still mad at you. at this point, you couldn't help but feel guilty. you didn't mean to do that.

"baby...im sorry" you mumbled, looking up at him. he avoided your gaze. pretending? to look around the room.

"hyunnie sorry please.." you tugged his shirt a bit, holding his waist more firmly. yet he didn't respond. but hyunnie was his favourite nickname.

"you can slap me, i was stupid" you whined, pushing your face against his stomach with force. he jerked forward. you nipped at him. making no attempt to stop. his hands frantically held you back. or atleast he tried to. you wriggled around, throwing a playful tantrum. until you accidently touched the wrong place.

he shot you a glare.

"behave yourself"

of course you were going to apologize since everyone was still there but you wanted to do more. just to piss him off. if he was annoyed at you earlier, you wanted to tick him off even more in a much different way.

no one would even see what you were doing. unless they actually *looked*.

you bit the string of his sweatpants, pulling on it lightly. he shot you another look.

this time keeping his eyes on you. you mouthed at his covered crotch, poking your tongue out on where you knew his tip would be. he scoffed. an open mouth smile on his face.

"jinnie" you mumbled, hyunjin raised an eyebrow.

"not now. not...here"

"please?" how could he deny you when you asked so nicely.

"is this how you plan on apologizing?" he whispered, just for you to hear.

"I didn't mean to do that..im sorry" you apologized, tugging his pants down just enough to reveal his waistband.

hyunjin coughed.

he pulled his camera out, snapping a somewhat blurry picture.

"you're just too drunk on my dick" he commented in a hushed voice. you blushed.

what could you do? he had a good cock...an amazing one and he knew how to use it. you nuzzled against him.

"its like your asking me to take more pics of you" he laughed quietly.

you remembered the last time.

.

.

"look at the camera" hyunjin said, holding the polaroid camera up in a way he could capture everything. his words never reached you.

how did he expect you to hear him? when you were stuffed full of his cock. he pushed your hands away from your face, choosing to pry your mouth open. shoving two fingers so far back, you gagged silently. tears slipping out.

he pressed himself deeper, snapping a pic. you closed your eyes as it flashed.

"good girl" he praised you, placing the camera down on the bed.

"so so so good for me" your heart swelled at how much he complimented you. everything about you.