Can't Wait

can't wait

°꒰ the thing between roommates ─── b.chan & h.hyunjin. ꒱

| pairing: chan x reader, hyunjin x reader

| warnings. contains smut, mentions of watching porn, f and m rec ( includes blowjobs, fingering, etc ), teasing, and more which will be in the actual fic.

| words. tba

| synopsis. one's your roommate and the other is his best friend. you've been holding off for so long. but what happens when they hear you, and want to have their fun?

| preview | let me know if you want to be tagged !!

"you misheard me."

"no one mishears a whine, doll. now tell me what you were doing before i caught you," chan whispers as he leans against the doorframe of your room and looks at you. your eyes stare back at the figure in front of you, while still being on the bed, acting like nothing actually happened.

"i'm telling you, i didn't whine," you start to protest, a sigh leaving your tired body as you try to sit up straight. "it must've been something else." chuckling, chan walks into the room and sitting down on the bed next to you. "then you're watching porn and wishing it was you instead that was being fucked that good?" he raises an eyebrow at you, watching you squirm in your place, his eyes following the movements of your thighs pressing together at the mention of 'being fucked that good.'

it was fun teasing you like this, he thought to himself. knowing what words get to you, what actions he does makes you groan inwardly and he's seen it before. no matter how much you tried to hide it from him, or even his best friend hyunjin, who was always over - they noticed it. all of it.

"i didn't say that -"

"yet you didn't deny it, did you?" chan pokes.

"would you rather i bring hyunjin in here and get you to open that pretty mouth of yours? such a brat aren't you?" chan sighs, shaking his head a little before tilting his head to look at you, his body is almost close to yours, you realize - closer than you ever thought you could get. sure, meaningless hugs and cuddles from chan when you got drunk didn't count. it never did. but this? this was a whole new level for you, even for the boys.

"i'm not being a brat, stop calling me that," you reply, clearly frustrated by him and also because you were stopped mid-orgasm when you were so close. another minute and you would've gotten out of the room. it was all because of that leather jacket he wore. why did he have to look so good? why did he have such attractive friends, which made it so much harder for you to focus on work, making you mix up orders?

"oh, i never called you that. i'm merely just observing your..." chan pauses, taking a minute to soak your expressions, posture, and movements, before letting his eyes rest on your face, a smirk forming on his lips. "...reactions to my words. seems like you want to be called a brat. you'd like it, hm? being called a brat. i wonder what else you'd like, pretty thing."

chan stands up, adjusting his sweats before turning around to look at you. "i suggest you come up with some answers quickly before i get back home. maybe even watch that dirty little porn you were watching," he looks around a little, finding your laptop tucked under your pillow, which was hastily pushed to the side. a smile rests on his face, thinking in his head that he in fact knew what you were doing. "maybe touch yourself a little, hm? play with that pretty little cunt of yours before hyunjin and i have our turn, yeah?"

when chan said that sentence, it shouldn't make your core throb in the way it did just now. it shouldn't have made you want him even more - maybe want both hyunjin and chan at the same time.

"thinking about our fingers inside you already?" chan says, interrupting your thoughts, making you look at him in embarrassment. "go ahead, pup. i won't stop you. tell us about that porn, use your words, and we can make your wet dreams come true, yeah?"

— taglist. @hwajin @starlostseungmin  @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @janvibutbetter @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @zizis-world12 @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @seobinniesshi @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @h0neydewmoon @hwan-g

you’re so gorgeous it makes so mad || Hyunjin

[Picture credit: 너는봄]

Pairing: Hyunjin x f!reader

Summary: There’s you, there’s Hyunjin, and then there’s the girl that thinks that flirting with him will get her somewhere. It doesn’t, but it does get you to fuck him in the bathroom

Word count: 4.4k

Genres: PWP, bit of fluff

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex in the context of a long-term established relationship, sub!hyunjin, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, fingering (female receiving), jealousy, possessiveness kink?, hints of praise kink, bathroom sex, semi-public sex, implied College AU, dancer!hyunjin, this is quite filthy by my standards lol, some feelings in there too but it’s quite soft.

Hyunjin always looks most in his element when he’s performing.

That is what makes him so fascinating to watch when he’s on stage. His focused expression, the way his body moves exactly how he wishes it to, with no room for error. Confidence and power radiate from him and light up the room, forcing all the eyes to focus on him. He’s the heart of any stage he’s on, easily eclipsing others.

Sitting in the audience, you’re always taken in by what a sight he is, no matter how many times you’ve seen it. Beads of sweat travel down his body, hips roll with the rhythm, and you know for a fact that anyone who meets his eyes during the performance will feel like he’s staring straight into their soul. His long hair are like a halo around him, only perfecting the look — blonde, and he looks like a sinful angel, red or black, and he’s a demon.

You think that’s why you also enjoy watching him when you’re at parties.

Sure, it isn’t as obvious then, but to the trained eye, there are telltale signs. One of them is the fact that he never hesitates. He never stumbles on his words, never has to stop himself in the middle of a sentence because he forgot where he was going with it, never gets it wrong. His expressions remain controlled, even when he throws his head back laughing, even when he high-fives his partners as he wins whatever drinking game they’re playing and performs happiness. He always times the moment when he runs his hand through his hair just right, and his smile is a smirk, lifting only one corner of his lips. He never fails to meet his interlocutor’s eyes, and, it is not rare for the other person to lose their train of thought under the attention he gives them.

It’s almost as interesting a sight as when he’s on stage, but it also isn’t Hyunjin.

Maybe that’s why it doesn’t bother you so much that you’re watching from across the room, leaning against the door frame, as he’s playing a game of pool with some of the other dancers from the company. You don’t feel too embarrassed about staring, because you’re certainly not the only one who’s interested in the way his long, muscular body looks as he leans over the table.

From where you are, you can’t get a good look at his ass, though.

Shame.

Keep reading

coughing up the butterflies that died in my stomach when you broke my heart

–”It was draining, he thought, pretending to love you.”

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: mafia au, angst, fluff, smut

warnings: death, guns, chan’s kind of an asshole

word count: 9.7k

a/n: this is the longest shit i’ve written to date n i’m kinda super really proud of it, also sorry for the total fall out boy move i pulled with the title hhh i just like it a lots

you let out a content sigh as your boyfriend trailed his lips along your neck, biting down lightly and sucking on a sweet spot he knew by heart by now. he pulled away and admired his work before capturing your lips with his, pressing your hips down against his growing bulge and making an attempt to deepen the kiss. you pulled away from him with a giggle.

“hyunjin, i really have to go. i promised my dad i’d be up early to help him with some work stuff tomorrow.”

he pouted, “what do you even have to do? why can’t he do it himself?”

you laughed at your boyfriends clingy behavior, “i’m supposed to talk to some girls he’s considering hiring. says i’m less threatening than a tall, scary-looking old man.”

“what’s he hiring for?”

you sighed, he always did this. whenever the topic of your fathers business came up, he could never let it go.

Keep reading

the best writer

—

"you look inviting," you smile, crawling toward hyunjin who lay on your shared bed, his fingers clutching a book, as he fixes his glasses with his other hand.

"do i now?" he smiles, setting the book down next to him to look at you.

"you can get comfortable if you want," hyunjin whispers, watching you settle between his thighs, your hands on either side of them, before straddling the boy under you, until you're on top of him, your body inching closer and closer, your legs wrapping his waist, almost trapping him in between.

"so pretty, aren't you?" hyunjin mumbles, letting his hands rest on your thighs, running his fingers along your bare legs. you hum out a response, moving your hips while being on top of him, shifting just a little more so your clothed pussy was directly on his stomach. "but also so so needy, it's just 10am, doll. wasn't last night enough?" hyunjin asks, his voice almost a rasp.

"was more than enough," you agree, but your hips wouldn't stop, and before you realise, you find yourself grinding against your boyfriend, getting needier by the second. "and yet here you are, acting so needy," hyunjin finishes.

he sighs, his fingers now grabbing your hips, to help you, his nails digging into the material of your shirt, before he stops his actions completely.

"since you're already here, how about you get to work? finish what you started. you're not leaving here until i see a stain on my shirt hm? im not going to help you, you're doing it by yourself."

"but—"

"no buts, baby. you started it. now be a good pet, and fucking finish the job."

note. see, i was going to not publish this, but oh well. @h0neyspaceplant was the first one to see it, and now im embarrassed. BYE.

i love this

Scarlet Red

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem Reader

Summary: A young talented artist has caught your attention. Now you want nothing more than for him to be successful. (Non idol au)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI due to adult content. Unprotected sex, fingering, and use of pet names.

Word Count: 6,200+ and some change

Author’s Note: The chokehold this man has on me right now. I hope you guys enjoy!

Tag List: @lee–felix, @lex-thesimpzzz, @nymeriaaa, @hyuckilstan, @joti17, @9900z, @jess-1404, @weusteezmakes1team, @formysakeamaryllis, @skzflix-au, @downforseochangbin, @lotus-dly, @cb97percent, @svintsandghosts (Message me if you’d like to be added. You’ll be notified when I post)

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lord have mercy...

cashmere and forevers (sharp edges epilogue)

{ 18+ only. minors/ageless blogs dni. ≡ masterlist ≡ series masterlist }

pairing: hyunjin x afab reader | wordcount: 11k | genre: painter au, romance, brief smut | general warnings: christmas special, events occur one year after the ending of sharp edges. ungrateful kkami (affectionate), mentions of past angst, suggestive content, fluff, sharp edges citrus brainrot, food & drinking. contains explicit sexual content, more warnings under the cut. warnings contain spoilers. thank you to everyone who has given sharp edges some love. ♡ it is mandarin season, friends. 🍊

“Goodbye Mrs. Hwang, Mr. Hwang. Thank you so much for coming over.” You wave at them as they’re making their way to the elevator. “Goodbye Kkami, too! Merry Christmas!” 

“Bye mom, bye dad!” A warm hand presses itself on the small of your back. Hyunjin leans against you, squeezing you gently against the frame of the door. His breath is warm when it touches your hair. When he speaks, you can almost feel the vibrations of his voice in your chest, like an echo of your own heartbeat. “Bye Kkami, you be a good dog, right? Don’t—” 

The small chihuahua that Mrs. Hwang is holding in her arms groans before letting out a loud bark, making Hyunjin’s parents laugh at the scene. They wave at you as the elevator doors open, and Mr. Hwang has the grace of grabbing one of Kkami’s front paws to make him wave back at Hyunjin. You wait until they’ve disappeared before closing the door of your apartment and locking it.

“Please stop laughing at me,” Hyunjin begs, wrapping you snuggly in his arms and letting you rest the side of your face in the crook of his neck. “It hurts my pride. I’ve only ever spoiled this dog, I’ve never even raised my voice at him… Why can’t he love me?”

“Maybe that’s his love language,” you suggest, looking up to place a few kisses along Hyunjin’s jaw. “The one he has for you only, you know? You’re special.”

“Shut up.” Hyunjin frames your face with his large hands and you gaze at him, at his eyes full of stars, at his wine-stained mouth. His burgundy lips curve into a soft smile as he runs his tongue on them, leaving them moist, and glossy. Inviting. “If you’re naughty, you’re not getting your present. Think about it.” 

You can hardly take your eyes off his mouth. “We did say no gifts,” you remind him. This is the first Christmas you spend as a couple, officially living in what used to be your apartment but is now yours and Hyunjin’s. “Unless you’re suggesting the gift isn’t from you… Does that mean Santa is real, then?”

The smile turns playful. “I’m saying only good girls get their Christmas presents.” Hyunjin pulls away from you before leaning right back, tilting his head as he brings his face closer to yours. His breath smells like the red wine you’ve had with the beef, rice cakes and pajeon. His breath smells like the love you have for him and it makes you drunk. 

Warmth fills you when Hyunjin’s hands move to your waist, pressing you closer to him. You bite your lip, eager to kiss him. He wants it just as much as you—this, you can see in his eyes. The color of his irises might be dark brown but they are always full of light when Hyunjin looks at you. 

You are in love with Hyunjin, and he is in love with you. So he kisses you, pressing his plush lips against yours gently as if he were afraid to hurt you. But he could never hurt you. Not like that. His mouth tastes like wine and like the mandarin cake you had for dessert. His lips are sticky with the honey glaze it was covered in. Hyunjin’s mouth is sweet, sweet, sweet. Sweeter than any dessert, than any sunset. Not cloying, not sickening. You will never have enough of him. You will never not want to drown in him, in the warmth of his body, in the smoothness of his tongue as it twirls in your mouth. You will never not love him. 

Hyunjin deepens the kiss, breathing you in. You give him your air, your love. His mouth controls yours, the scalding kisses, the wet noises of your mouths lewd enough to make you dizzy. You feel his smile against you, so you kiss him back with yours. 

A faint sigh escapes you when he pulls away for air, but the sight of his flushed cheeks would be enough to mend any scar on your soul. 

“I still can’t quite tell if you’ve been a good girl or not,” Hyunjin teases, leaving a small peck on your nose. “I think I will have to study your case a little more.” 

You giggle, heat spreading at the back of your neck and between your legs. Hyunjin must sense it because he pulls you by the waist, pressing you flush against him. You have to take a deep breath to calm down, the fluttering of your heart a little too distracting—but certainly not as much as the way Hyunjin’s hands are waltzing on your body. “We really said no gifts, Hyun, just a dinner at a nice restaurant,” you remind him as if he suffered from memory loss. “To save money.”

Hyunjin nods but shakes his head with indifference, his burgundy smile blinding you. “So you’re telling me you didn’t get me anything, angel love?” 

Hyunjin’s beauty hits you every time you lay your eyes upon him but never quite the same way. Black hair framing a face that would make angels weep. A mouth that dances. Eyes you like to get lost in, jumping to your demise in them. Tonight, he reminds you of lights through a window on a rainy day, little droplets running along the glass, diffusing the colorful lights like tiny miracles. You lick your lips just to taste him again, just a little more, taste the kiss he gave you. 

You stare at him in silence, your gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth to the nice sweater he’s wearing to the small Christmas tree at the back of the living room. You try to come up with some excuse for the bag you’ve hidden in your side of the closet. The one decorated with pretty ribbons. The one with Hyunjin’s name on it. 

“I knew it.” Hyunjin doesn’t even need your response to know. One would say that he can read you like an open book but that’s not quite right. Hyunjin reads you the way a troubled man reads poetry. “Of course I got a gift for my girlfriend,” he adds before taking your mouth again and this time, the kiss is a little deeper.

Your back hits the wall behind you and you jump, surprised, as if you had forgotten that walls existed. As if you had forgotten that buildings existed, with floors too and ceilings and Christmas trees and dirty dishes in the sink. When Hyunjin kisses you, there is only him, and the taste of a cake you’ve baked with the Jeju mandarins he bought this morning. His hand finds your face again, cupping your cheek swiftly as if he feared you would evade him. But he had you locked in the moment he sat next to you in a painting class, and you have no wish to escape this sweet prison. 

You grab him, his shirt first then his waist, overly aware of the belt holding his jeans. You deepen the kiss and one might think you are trying to choke Hyunjin with your tongue—and one might be surprised to find out that it makes Hyunjin cum hard when you choke him with anything. 

But, once again, Hyunjin pulls away. His eyes, hooded by the hunger he only has for you, are fixated on your mouth. He bites his lip so hard you’re afraid he’ll cut it open. If he did, you would simply kiss him better, same as he would do for you. Someone could have ripped your chest open and he would kiss the wound until it was mended and healed and gone. 

“It’s a time-sensitive gift,” Hyunjin explains. From what you can feel in his jeans, he’s seriously considering giving you something else instead of the present. “Let’s go.” 

Hyunjin takes your hand in his and drags you towards the bedroom. You pass through the kitchen which is a mess of plates and pots and containers. When he senses your hesitation, he squeezes your hand tighter in his. “I’ll clean everything later, my angel. Let me give you the gift.” 

You could resist. You could insist that the saucepans need to at least soak if they’re not going to be washed now, that there are leftovers to put in the fridge. But you don’t really mind, and it’s good. It’s good to just exist with Hyunjin, not having to pretend to be the most responsible person. Recently, he had started leaving some clothes in the dryer instead of taking them out immediately. 

That day, you had needed to sit down. Your clean laundry was in the washer but you sat on the edge of the bathtub, looking at the clothes in the dryer. Hyunjin’s clothes for the most part, and some of yours. He always checked your laundry basket when he started his, so that day he had washed a few of your dark t-shirts along with his. And he had left them there before going out for drinks with Minho and Changbin. 

Once upon a time, you thought love wasn’t for you. You thought that you couldn’t love, that your heart had died after being starved for too long. Worse yet—not only had it been starved, it had been fed something foul. And the murk had run through your veins for a long while, rendering you blind to everything.

Everything except the color orange, apparently. “It’s mandarin season,” Hyunjin had told you, but he might just as well have said, “I will remind you that you have a heart and that it can love.” 

You had folded Hyunjin’s laundry and yours with tears in your eyes. The day after, Hyunjin had washed your favorite coffee mug to make sure it would be there for you in the morning. Not a single word had been spoken about it. Or about the other things. When one cooked the other’s favorite food, when one took it upon themselves to clean all the windows or buy the fancy fabric softener to make the bed sheets smell sweet and fresh. 

Once upon a time, you thought love wasn’t for you. And now you were folding your boyfriend’s laundry and he was washing your dishes and he kissed you like he was a painter and you were a canvas. Like he was paint and you were the paint brush. 

Like he was a dancer, and you were the music. 

Hyunjin kisses the top of your head when you make it to the bedroom. “Sit on the bed and close your eyes, will you, love?” His voice is soft yet blood orange. If he asked you to bash your head against the wall you would do it. If he asked you to kiss him until you both drowned into each other, you would do it. 

So you sit on the edge of the bed and close your eyes, your heart beating fast. “Hyun, while you’re at it, why don’t you get your gift too,” you suggest, suppressing a laugh. “I hid it behind the box where I keep my summer clothes.” 

Hyunjin’s laugh could heal masses and you listen to it like an experienced hiker listens to the sounds of the forest around them, finding prodigies in it. The brushing of leaves, creaking of trunks. Bird songs, animal calls. Hyunjin is the forest and the bird song all at once. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it, you really didn’t hide it that well!” You laugh with him, keeping your eyes closed. 

Hyunjin leaves the room for a few minutes. “Where did you hide the gift then?” You try to think—if it’s not in the closet, there aren’t many places it can be.

His voice answers you from the hallway—he went into the living room before making his way to the bathroom. “You can’t reach the top shelf.” He laughs again. “It was so easy to hide it.” 

You scoff. “I totally knew it was there.” But when Hyunjin returns to the bedroom, he sits next to you and kisses you so deeply that you forget your bluff. Hyunjin rarely just kisses you. Sometimes he does but it feels more like a delicate mist over a field of wildflowers. Sometimes his kisses feel like hurricanes. Sometimes they feel like warm coffee in the morning or a glass of expensive gin. 

Hyunjin lets go of your mouth. “Smell this,” he whispers into your ear. You hear something being put close to your face, so you inhale deeply. 

Nostalgia fills you at the same time as the scent fills your lungs. A rich scent, floral, reminding you of a sunrise. A familiar scent, one that you could make out anywhere.

You smile against the jasmine flowers that are tickling your skin. “Hyunjin—”

“Okay, open your eyes now.” 

Hyunjin is holding a small package wrapped in a cardboard box he painted himself. He painted jasmines on it and they are so lifelike that you can barely make out the real branch of jasmine that’s attached to the box. It has a white silk ribbon around it, tied in an elegant bow. The smell of the flowers fills you with memories of the first time Hyunjin gave you the same flower. It was the morning of the day he came back. 

Jasmines smell like sunrises and love. Just that. And not just any love—Hyunjin’s love. They smell like folded laundry and a cup of tea prepared just because he thought you wanted one. They smell like love at first sight. They smell like letters sent from Australia, like watercolors drying on skin, like Jeju mandarins. 

You take the box that Hyunjin is handing to you but you don’t open it yet. You don’t need to. The box could be empty and it would be alright. He painted the flowers on them so delicately it makes you want to cry. Even without that. Even without the box and the painted jasmines and the real flowers. You are in love with Hyunjin and he is in love with you, and it is enough. 

“Open yours first?” you suggest, blushing even harder than when he was pressing his crotch against you. “It isn’t much…” 

Hyunjin checks the time on his watch. “Okay, we have enough time.” 

“What? Where are we going?” You take the bag and give it to him. 

“Angel. You’ll find out soon.” Hyunjin shakes his head but smiles as he focuses on the bag you’ve put together for him. 

You couldn’t resist buying it when you saw it at a store—it was a simple back with a white background, decorated with two mandarins on it. One of the oranges had been split in two and the other one was intact. On that one, you had hand drawn a little face, just two dots for the eyes and a smile for its mouth. 

Hyunjin touches the face you drew, his elegant fingers tracing it gently. Your gaze trails away momentarily, making its way to his bedside table where you see the orange plushie you gave him that time. You often catch him looking at it and it never fails to make your heart flutter. 

“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” he says. “But that’s a little hypocritical of me to say that, isn’t it?” 

You let out a soft laugh. You’ve missed him. He is often at the dance school and you are often giving art classes or attending exhibits. But it’s alright. Sometimes you are already asleep when he gets home, and the sound of his shower wakes you up gently. You kiss him when he slides under the covers and pulls you against his tired body, but you know he is grateful for this tired body. His damp hair often smells like your shampoo. 

Often, he makes love to you then, the water from his hair running on your skin like tiny miracles. He whispers his scarlet love into your ear or your pussy, fucks it deep into you, he unmakes you and makes you over and over again, and you are grateful for your tired body, your filled cunt, your sore throat. You kiss Hyunjin’s neck to soothe the ache from your fingers or your teeth. You will never not love him. 

Hyunjin opens his gift excitedly, humming his favorite song of the moment. The gift is quite simple—you got him the paint brushes he had been drooling over for the past few weeks as well as fancy oil paints to go along with them, as well as his favorite hand cream, the one from Paris. You also bought him a bracelet. It was mostly silver except for the small bead of sapphire that decorated it. Two months ago, he had unfortunately broken his favorite bracelet and it couldn’t be fixed—so you just figured you could get him a new one.

“Sapphire,” Hyunjin comments. He lifts his gaze from the bracelet and he looks at the necklace around your neck, the one he gave you the same day the jasmines were delivered to your place. The chain is delicate, made of silver too, and the oval pendant had an authentic Australian sapphire on it. 

“You know the symbolism behind sapphire, don’t you?” You touch the pendant, remembering that day in the studio. How Hyunjin had danced for you, just for you, to show you that he was whole again. That day, he had said that sapphires were a synonym for eternal love. 

“Oh…” Hyunjin returns his attention to his gift and you take it from his palm to help tie it safely around his wrist. It looked stunning against his honey skin, resting on his elegant wrist bone. “It’s too much, angel love.” 

“It’s not. If you don’t like it, we—”

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, staring into your eyes, pouring orange sunsets into your soul. “I love it. Thank you so much.” He pulls you into a kiss that tastes like wine and sapphires. You kiss him back, basking in the wetness of his mouth, the luxury of his lips. “Thank you, my angel,” he says into your mouth. “I love you.” 

You kiss him with a smile. “I love you too, Hyun.” But when you try to resume the kiss, he nods and sits straight, putting the jasmine-adorned box back into your hands. 

“Your turn,” he insists. 

You undo the ribbon carefully, the cool silk reminding you of vermilion reds and making love blindly and painting blacks on a canvas. You put the flowers and ribbon aside to discover the contents of the box. 

A white envelope catches your eye and you stare at Hyunjin, puzzled. He simply invites you to open it with eager nods of his head, his long hair flowing with him. You like looking at his hair when he dances. He often dances just for you, moving his body to the sound it makes when you fuck yourself while watching him. He dances in the same way he fucks you, like he needs it to live, like he lives to dance or to make love to you. Like he had his hip fixed just so he could fuck you deeper. Like he is running away from a fire or, maybe, like he is becoming the flames. Like he will never not love you. 

The envelope contains concert tickets. Good seats, too—excellent even. And not just any tickets… You tried to get tickets for this concert but they sold out immediately as this music group might be your favorite—but they’re also excessively popular. By the time you decided you as an adult should spend this outrageous amount of money on tickets to see a concert, there were no tickets left. Except you are holding four of them in your hands right now.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” You can’t take your eyes off the pieces of paper you’re holding. “HOW DID YOU GET THIS?”

You heard Hyunjin’s smile coating his voice as the words made it out of his lips. “I’d love to say that I know a guy who knows a guy and whatnot, but really I just bought them the day they went on presale.”

“PRESALE? THAT’S SO MUCH MONEY!” 

Hyunjin giggles when he takes the tickets from your hands and presses his thumb against your lips. “We have neighbors,” he reminds you. “I know we said we should save money, okay? But I wanted today to be special for you. I wanted to make you happy.”

You look at him, at the way he beams at you. “You make me happy every day.” There’s a lump forming in your throat. “Hyunjin… Thank you so much. You’ll come with me? Please? Let’s go with Minho and Felix!” 

“Of course I’ll go with you, my angel.” Hyunjin pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re so beautiful one of the guys from the group will try to steal you away from me.” Your face turns boiling hot in a matter of milliseconds, but Hyunjin doesn’t let you look away from him. “So beautiful…” he repeats, observing you carefully, leaning closer to you. “I swear you drive me crazy.” 

Hyunjin kisses you softly, his fingers entangled in your hair, his other hand running up your thigh. 

“No one can take me away from you,” you point out. “No one. I love you, Hyunjin.”

“My angel.” He just breathes it into your mouth and you taste his words. They taste just like how jasmine flowers smell. “There’s something else in the box.” 

You do remember him saying the gift was time sensitive—but the concert is in two months, so you look at the box again. There’s something else in it, wrapped in periwinkle paper. It’s soft in your hands and you can guess it’s fabric before you’ve unwrapped it fully.

It’s a scarf. A beautiful cashmere scarf, its color a turquoise so deep you can’t believe it’s real. It’s like you’re holding a piece of the ocean, the ripples in the fabric mimicking the gentle waves of the sea, the color an exact replica of an ocean under a sunny day. It’s as soft as silk, feeling like a thousand kisses on your skin. You immediately wrap it around your neck and shoulders, letting it embrace you. 

“Oh wow, Hyun.” You caress the scarf again. “It’s so soft. And pretty.”

Hyunjin looks at you intently. “Just like you, angel love. It looks perfect on you, just as I imagined.” You had thought that he was about to kiss you, but instead Hyunjin gets up from the bed and offers you his hand to take. “Alright, we’ve gotta go now.”

“Go where?”

“Well I gave you this scarf to keep you warm. We’re going out.”

“But it’s Christmas night, where can we even go?” Still, you get up and take his hand as he guides you towards the living room. 

“Dress warmly,” he advises. As you’re zipping up your best boots, you hear a notification from Hyunjin’s phone. “The car’s here,” he tells you. “Are you ready?”

But he doesn’t need you to answer. He adjusts the cashmere scarf so that it covers you best and actually zips up your padded coat, whose dark gray color looks nice with the turquoise scarf. 

And so you leave your apartment like that, with dirty dishes in the sink and a few pancakes still in the pan, drying there. But Hyunjin holds your gloved hand as you make your way to an Uber that’s waiting for you. You try to calm your heart rate as you look at the road from the window, but you realize you’re not afraid. 

How could you be afraid? You are with Hyunjin. He has an arm around your shoulders as he makes small talk with the driver who is pointing out that it’s starting to snow a little. 

After some time, Hyunjin asks you to close your eyes again and you oblige. You trust him. You trusted him with your heart once and you never regretted that. You trust him with your life. Every time he kisses you, you hand him a piece of your soul and he hands you a piece of his, and both are safe with the other. Nothing else needs to be said. 

You can’t see but Hyunjin guides you slowly as a soft breeze caresses your face. You feel the snowflakes in it, you feel them melt on your warm cheeks. “Where are we going?” you ask, but you know he won’t tell you.

Hyunjin wraps an arm around your waist. You can see lights from behind your eyelids, but you can’t hear much. Some cars. In the distance, Christmas music, with bells and joy in every note. “Do you remember last year after I came back?” Hyunjin asks, his voice softer than the cashmere around your neck. “Do you remember the movie we watched?”

You think about it, but not for long. “Of course I remember.” You walk with Hyunjin, completely unafraid. “The winter movie, with the guy trying everything to seduce the girl and her head was so deep into her own ass that she didn’t even see that he loved her!” You couldn’t forget that movie. Or rather, you couldn’t forget the taste of the mandarins that you shared with Hyunjin as you watched it, couldn’t forget the way he had fucked you so hard on your couch just after that you had almost blacked out.

“Yes, that one.” Hyunjin stops and you stop too, the excitement alone enough to keep you warm. “Okay, wait here. Don’t move. Don’t open your eyes.” 

So you wait there. And you don’t open your eyes. The music is a little louder here and you let it remind you of good things. You let it remind you of the orange plushie and the portrait that Hyunjin gave you. He painted you from memory. That portrait is still displayed somewhere, but not in your apartment anymore—Hyunjin wanted it at the dance school. You see it every time you walk in the upstairs hallway on your way to Hyunjin’s dance studio. You see the beauty he sees in you. 

You hear Hyunjin’s voice faintly too, as well as another person's. But it doesn’t take long until he’s back.

“Angel love,” he tells you. “You can open your eyes now.” 

Hyunjin is standing in front of you, holding two pairs of ice skating shoes. His smile is bright enough to light up the whole entire world, you think, but the location you are at has adequate lighting and you make out an outdoor ice skating rink. It’s not very large, but the fence around its circle shape is decorated with amber-color string lights. 

Your heart drops in your chest—you don’t even know where to look. “Hyunjin—”

Hyunjin hands you a pair of ice skates. “You thought I forgot what we said when we watched that movie? I didn’t.” He hadn’t forgotten. And you hadn’t either, but you never thought it would be for real. It had simply left your mind somewhere between the end of the movie and the second time Hyunjin had drilled you into the couch that night. 

The movie was simple, basic, but one of the things that the guy tried to do to get the girl was to take her ice skating at night—and that had been the moment she had realized she loved him, too. Your heart was already full of love then, but you had watched the scene with endearment, commenting that it looked so romantic and so fun. 

“Next Christmas, I’ll take you ice skating,” Hyunjin had said.

And today is next Christmas and you are sitting on a wooden bench as Hyunjin helps you into your skates. He gets into his and guides you into the rink after the employee he was talking to earlier wishes you a good time and reminds the both of you that he has hot chocolate if you want some. 

You’re too stunned to speak. You haven’t skated since your teenage years and it takes you a few minutes to remember the feel of it, or maybe it’s because Hyunjin took you by surprise. There’s no one else around, just the two of you, the faint music playing somewhere and the sounds of your blades sliding on the ice. 

Hyunjin takes your two hands in his and skates backwards just so he can face you. He’s beautiful, his cheeks pink, the snowflakes in his hair. The love in his eyes, which you know is the same color as the love in yours. “I love you, my angel.” 

“I love you too, baby.” You’re skating very slowly. He guides you just as much as you guide him. “Hyunjin… this is… this is the best gift I’ve ever received.” 

He smiles and brakes gently. You’re not as comfortable as he is with the whole concept of braking and you stumble against Hyunjin a little—thankfully, you both end up against the sturdy fence before any of you can fall down.

And you laugh. And he laughs. And it’s good and easy. There are tears on your faces but you don’t know if they’re from laughing or from the overwhelming emotions taking over you. As if you were no longer in control. 

“I feel like I’m dreaming,” you admit, grateful for the little pause against the fence. Ice skating looked a lot easier in the movie than it is in real life—you’re a lot less graceful than the girl had been. 

“A good dream, I hope?” His smile is shy then—coy, almost. Hyunjin keeps your hands in his and you wish it wasn’t so cold and that you didn’t need to wear gloves. You miss his skin against yours. 

You kiss his cheek, feeling the cool snowflakes under your skin. “I can’t believe you did this for me, Hyunjin…” And it’s true. You can’t believe it. “You’re crazy.”

“I did say that you drive me crazy, angel love.” Hyunjin laughs, and it sounds like a song.

Once upon a time, you thought love wasn’t for you. You thought that your heart was dead and cold and dark. But you were wrong. And you’re grateful you were wrong.

You often think about Mrs. Yoo. You took over her painting classes and then took over more classes, too, until you had to leave your other job and work at the art studio full-time. Some days you give the regular lessons and some days you give private ones. Once in a while, you discover that Hyunjin booked an hour of private lessons. Sometimes you paint together in the art studio where you fell in love with him at first sight.

Sometimes you suck his cock dry just to hear his moans and his whimpers fill the empty room. 

But you often think about how he was put on your path. Or how you allowed him to change the atoms that make you you. Sometimes you wonder what your life would be like if he hadn’t taken the easel next to yours. If he hadn’t brought a mandarin from Jeju with him that day. 

Sometimes you wonder how it is possible for your heart to love this easily, never wanting anything in return. Sometimes you wonder how it is possible that you just love and that it is enough. The easiest, the purest kind of love. Sometimes love looks like a Jeju mandarin. Sometimes love looks like going away and adding another crescent-shaped scar on our body just to be able to look at ourselves in the mirror. Sometimes love looks like a white silk ribbon and watercolor bruises. Sometimes love looks like a ripe peach, like peeling a persimmon for someone else even though we don’t like the taste of them.

Sometimes love looks like snowflakes melting in black hair, like a burgundy mouth, like turquoise cashmere. But to you, love just looks like Hyunjin. 

“I came here to tell you something,” he says after a while. “Something important. You might want to break up with me, actually.”

You think he’s joking—surely he’s joking—but one look at his face reveals that he, in fact, is not joking. Not at all. Hyunjin has turned to face you and is staring at you with a very serious expression on his face. 

Your thoughts run well ahead of you, evading you like water through your fingers. Tell you something? That would make you break up with him?

Has he cheated on you? Why would he rent a whole fucking ice skating rink to tell you that he’s cheating? Why would he do that on Christmas night after you’ve had a very nice dinner with his parents? Why? Why would he cheat on you, and with who?

The words spill from your lips before you can stop them. “Are you seeing someone else?” Your voice is shaking. “Hyunjin? Tell me please.”

“No, god, NO!” Hyunjin buries his face into his hands. When he gets out of there, he’s red all over and panic has set in his eyes. “Never, my love. Never. I love you, only you. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. That’s… that’s what I want to talk about.”

Your heart seems to have processed Hyunjin’s words—it calmed down in your chest a little, but there are still a few tears threatening to roll down your cheeks and your mind is still running marathons. 

“But I did lie to you,” Hyunjin goes on, “the night I confessed my feelings to you. I gave you a rose and I told you it came with a label that said…” Hyunjin paused, hesitating.

You finished his sentence for him. “That one light pink rose meant love at first sight.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin gulped thickly. “I lied. I’m sorry. There was no label. I just bought the rose to confess my love and when the time came I… I got scared and…”

You stare at Hyunjin as if he is speaking another language. As if you can’t understand what he’s saying. Except you understand very well—your mind stops in its tracks, millimeters away from crashing into a brick wall. 

“There was no label with the rose?” You feel a strange sensation in your chest, something that you think you recognize but something you’re not sure belongs there right now. “You made that up?” 

Hyunjin nods slowly. “Yes. I’m sorry, angel.”

“What about the sapphire? On the necklace?” You suddenly become aware of the silver ring around your neck, protected by your cashmere scarf. “Was that made up too?” 

Hyunjin bites his lip. “Not really. Actually, I took the information from the rings section, so I don’t know if it applies to necklaces too… I mean it’s not as made up as the rose one, for sure.” 

And then you know with certainty what the sensation in your chest is when a few ugly cackles escape your throat before you burst out in a hysterical fit of laughter. You laugh so hard that the tears do roll on your cheeks, only not for the dramatic reason they had been brought into your eyes in the first place. You laugh so hard that you slide against the fence behind you, finding yourself on your knees, on the ice, a hand on your stomach. You laugh so hard it hurts. 

“Angel,” Hyunjin says but you barely hear him. “Angel, are you… are you okay? I’m sorry I lied, I loved you the moment I saw you, I—”

“YOU SCARED THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF ME, HWANG HYUNJIN—” You manage to speak most of the sentence with the little oxygen that is left in your lungs. You take a few deep breaths, always interrupted by more laughter. “Don’t ever do this to me again! I thought you were having an affair or something!” 

The ice is cold against your knees but you don’t mind it. Still, Hyunjin helps you up and looks you right in the eyes. “You’re not mad at me? Because I lied?”

“Are you kidding me?” You take off your gloves, shoving them into your pockets—to hell with cold. You brush your fingers in Hyunjin’s hair, trace his jawline with your index. “Hyunjin, that’s one of the most adorable things I’ve ever heard.” 

Hyunjin lets out a long sigh, relieved. He pulls you against him, kissing the top of your head over and over. “Thank god,” he manages between kisses. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing I had lied to you… Not knowing if your feelings might not have been the same if…”

“Hyunjin, do you really think my feelings for you are based on a hypothetical label that hypothetically came with a rose you bought me? Did you forget that you also bought chocolate cake for me on that same trip to the store? And a toothbrush because you wanted me to spend the night. And condoms. You can’t be serious right now. Rethinking our whole relationship… because you panicked when you confessed?” 

You felt so warm inside. Like on the first day of spring after a cold summer. Like after a glass of wine, or after a shower. Sometimes, you get out of the shower only to find that Hyunjin drew something in the condensation on the mirror. Sometimes he draws a heart, or he writes ‘I love you’. One day, you found a whole scenery with a river and mountains in the mirror. That picture is still your phone background. 

“Now I feel like an idiot.” But Hyunjin is smiling so wide that you see his teeth. He looks like an angel in the amber light of the skating rink. He looks like a promise, like a blessing. But not like an idiot. “You really don’t mind? You still love me?”

You sigh but still kiss him, playing with his lips, with his tongue, just a few instants. He is the best kind of drug, but you can’t go long without tasting his mouth. “Hyunjin, I fell in love with you when you sat down next to me and you told me that it was mandarin season. I don’t care about the label on the rose, and I don’t care that you took your information on sapphire necklaces in the rings section. I love you, okay?”

“My angel.” Hyunjin kisses you again, the act warming up your whole body. He never just kisses you. He always, always does so mindfully, like he is trying to communicate something and his kisses are a form of sign language. “Angel love.” It’s all he says, and it’s all he has to say. You do not need a code to understand him. 

You are in love with Hyunjin, and he is in love with you. He rearranged your atoms, he restarted your dead heart, he made it so that it had never really been dead. As if it was all worth it. Because it was. One night, as he collapsed against you, spent, the both of you covered in a film of sweat, he had told you, “I’m grateful I got hit by a car. I’m glad the surgery didn’t work and that it broke me. I’m glad I needed the painting classes to stay alive. It was so that I could meet you. I would do it over and over again just to meet you once more.” 

It does not matter. The label on the rose, the label on the necklace. It does not matter as long as you get to live in a world where you can love him.

Hyunjin pulls away from the fence and drags you around for another lap around the rink. You skate with him in the quiet of the night, your hand in his. His other one disappears into the pocket of his coat and he fumbles around for a few seconds before pulling out a mandarin from his pocket. 

“Want some?” But he doesn’t wait until taking off his gloves and peeling the mandarin. You take the peels from him before they can fall on the ice and he turns around, offering you his other pocket for you to dispose of the peels. As your hand slides into the pocket, Hyunjin pushes a piece of the mandarin between your lips, and everything changes. 

First, you realize it is a real mandarin from Jeju—of course. Hyunjin wouldn’t settle for anything less. He’ll pass on other citrus, choosing to indulge in the absolute best only. The juice from the mandarin fills your mouth, coating your lips as you bite into it. It tastes like love.

It tastes like the ring in the pocket of Hyunjin’s coat.

You make eye contact with him, your hand still in the pocket, the peels from the mandarin surrounding the small piece of metal that your fingers brushed against. 

Hyunjin is smiling. A soft smile. A smile full of emotion. “Take it, angel love. It’s there for you.” 

Your hand is shaking but you manage to retrieve the ring and pull it out from his pocket. It sits in your palm. Gold, like the lights all around you. It has a slight curve where the orange stones are located. They shine brighter than the sun. This is a ring, you tell yourself. Just a ring. It feels light and yet it is heavy, heavy, heavy. 

Hyunjin takes the ring from you, holding it between his two fingers. “I loved you the moment I saw you,” he starts, his voice shaking just as much as your whole body is. His eyes are hopeful, though. He is handsome. “I saw you before you saw me, you know?” This was the first time you ever hear of that, but you listen, your gaze dancing between his eyes, his pretty lips, the gold and citrine ring he holds. “I was terrified of sitting with you. You were so beautiful… The way your hair fell on your shoulders, and how you placed all of your supplies. The colors of paint that you had with you. I loved you then. And I haven’t stopped loving you since.” 

Hyunjin takes a deep breath, his free hand reaching for your face. It is surprisingly warm. Like he is the sun, like he is warmth reincarnated. Like you will never feel the cold again once in your life, like you will not live another overcast day ever again. “You can think about it and you don’t have to say yes. But I bought this ring when I was in Australia. I’ve kept it ever since. It doesn’t mean anything. I chose it because I knew you’d like the colors on it. I will never not love you and I’d like to marry you someday. I want to give you all of my forevers.”

Love at first sight? What about it? 

Love is extensive. In the fabric of spacetime, love is everywhere at every moment, permeating each and every atom of everything. To some, this is a tragedy—how can they keep going knowing that even their worst moments were saturated with love, even invisible? There is comfort in darkness. There is comfort in thinking that they were alone, loveless, while they were prisoners of their own hearts, their own minds. 

But it is false. It’s false. 

Love at first sight is a man-made concept just as much as it is a beautiful disaster created by the energies of the universe. One might believe that a love that strikes at first sight is shallow, untrue. One might believe that love at first sight isn’t legitimate, that it can’t exist in the first place. 

Once upon a time, you were that person. And then you were proven wrong. Love at first sight is real and it turns out it is the kind of love that sticks to you. The kind of love that nothing can wash away, not distance, not sorrow, not the passage of time. Turns out it is the kind of love that only goes one way—it does not recede. It only grows deeper, stronger, and more beautiful. 

It is mandarin season. You are in love with Hyunjin and he is in love with you. And it is enough. 

“Yes,” you say, but it’s just a breath, and it escapes your mouth in a cloud of condensation. You realize you did not produce a sound at all. You breathe deeply, your lip quivering, your eyes anchored to Hyunjin’s. Your mouth tastes like mandarins, like love, when you speak. “Yes, yes, I want to marry you too. I love you.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes fill up with tears. He looks down at his feet almost as if he hadn’t expected this. “Are you sure?” he asks, staring at you once again. The tears in his eyes are tiny miracles or grand promises. “Are you really sure, my angel? You really want to be my wife?”

“Yes I’m sure, Hyunjin.” He tilts his head, his eyes stuck on your mouth. “I want you to be my husband.” You’re crying, and he is too. This is the purest kind of love. “I will never not love you.

“I will never not love you. My angel.” 

When Hyunjin kisses you, the earth doesn’t shake. The ground doesn’t split open into a rift, the stars do not fall from the sky. It’s just snowflakes, lazily twirling in the air as Hyunjin envelops your soul, as he kisses you with his wet, open mouth, humming and moaning into you. The peeled citrus is long forgotten, fallen on the ice of the rink where it will freeze. But you kiss Hyunjin’s mandarin mouth with urgency and he kisses yours with purpose. When Hyunjin kisses you, the world doesn’t end, but your heart is a volcano. Your heart is a forest fire, an ocean, an atomic bomb. Your heart is Hyunjin’s, and it is alive. 

When he breaks the kiss, Hyunjin presses his forehead against yours. He’s smiling uncontrollably, giggling sometimes, sometimes letting out a faint sob—it’s a mess, but you’re the same. He pulls you into his arms, holding you tight. You wish it weren’t so cold, that you were naked, that you felt him against your body, his soul dancing sins into yours. 

You never want to be without him. And, turns out, he never wants to be without you. 

Delicately, Hyunjin takes your hand in his to slide the ring on your ring finger. You both stand in the cold, staring at that sight. And what a sight it is. Once upon a time, you thought love wasn’t for you. But you had become it. You had become love itself. 

Nothing else needs to be said. 

Hyunjin seems to interpret your shaking as you being cold when really, you are simply overcome with emotion. Still, you let him take you towards the gate, then out of the rink. You help each other get rid of the skates and return them to the kind employee. Technicalities. It is cold, the wind growing harsher, but you don’t feel it, you just feel Hyunjin, his hand in yours, his eyes on you, his mouth on you. You wait for another car to come pick you up, and you make out on the back seat like horny teenagers. 

You cried when Hyunjin left his laundry in the dryer instead of folding it. You cried because that day, he finally allowed you to feel the weight of him in your life. Tangible, real. The small burden of folding laundry. The small burden of helping you write your two weeks' notice when you quit your job. The small burden of washing your forgotten dishes. The small burden of holding him and whispering comforting words into his ears when he, sometimes, wakes up in the middle of the night after a bad dream. He still gets those once in a while. Sometimes his brain short-circuits a little. But only a little. And you don’t love him any less. The burden of it, the beautiful, lovely weight of Hyunjin in your life. The colors of his soul. The sounds his lips make when he eats or when he kisses you. The love he draws on the bathroom mirror while you’re showering. Hyunjin’s weight on your body, Hyunjin’s cock, his voice, his eyes, his hands. Hyunjin, Hyunjin, Hyunjin. 

That night, you clean up the apartment together. Hyunjin washes the dishes while you gather everything and declutter the kitchen. He always offers to wash the dishes but that night, he says it’s because he doesn’t want you to take the ring off. Not now.

“I like the way it looks on you,” he says, his hands disappearing into the soapy water of the sink. 

You hug him from behind, raising yourself on your toes to kiss the back of his neck. He smells like himself and like outside air. “I bet it’ll look good with your cock, baby.” 

Hyunjin doesn’t answer right away, but you feel him take a deep breath. “I think so too, angel love.” For the rest of your life, you will be Hyunjin’s and he will be yours, but you don’t think you’ll ever get tired of him, of the way he exaggerates details when he tells a story, the way he peels mandarins or the way he cuts watermelon into perfect cubes. You’ll never get tired of him, his kisses, his steady breathing when he sleeps on his side of the bed. You’ll never get tired of him, of the butterflies you feel in your stomach when you unbuckle his belt, when you unzip his jeans. He smells good. 

Hyunjin’s cock is coming alive already when you slide your hand into his pants to cup him over his boxers, squeezing gently. And yet he carefully washes a serving plate as if it was just any other day—but the color of his cheeks shows his true feelings. And what you feel beneath your palm is even more telling. 

“You’ll be such a good husband,” you comment, feeling him up with a little more insistence. Hyunjin inhales sharply and twitches in your hand, eliciting a soft moan out of you, heat pooling between your legs. “I’ll be a good wife, I promise.”

“I know you will, my angel.” His voice is a little strangled, but he finally puts down the serving plate, the last of the dishes that needed to be washed. He twists his neck to look at you as he’s drying his hands with a towel. “That’s why I’m about to stretch your pretty pussy and fill you up.” 

You’ll never get tired of him. Of his cock hardening under your touch, of his gaze fucking you before he even touches you. Sometimes, he stares at you so intensely that it makes you wet. Sometimes you touch yourself to the thought of his eyes devouring you, analyzing you like a dance routine. 

Hyunjin turns around completely, kissing you hard. You leave his cock alone momentarily to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging onto him like you’re about to fall and he is your lifeline. 

He pulls your shirt off you. “I love you, babe.” When he kisses you this time, it’s slower, deeper, his tongue reaching dark corners of your mouth, exploring you not like a ruin but like a temple. 

The kissing leads you to your bedroom. You like making love to Hyunjin here, you like the lighting, the way it looks when he cums while you ride him, his eyes rolling at the back of his head, one hand holding onto the frame of the bed like you’re milking the soul out of him. 

That night, Hyunjin carefully removes the box he painted for you from the bed, removes the wrapping paper to free the bed. You sit on the mattress, pulling him in for a kiss, feeling his erection through his pants. Sometimes, you like to edge him for hours, rubbing yourself against him until he blows in his pants. At least he cleans up his mess after. 

But not tonight. Tonight, you rid him of his pants and underwear while he does the same to you. You like the feeling of his sweater against your bare skin but you still take it off him, eager to feel his toned body against yours. Hyunjin advances on the bed, making you retreat farther onto the mattress, kissing your lips, your face, your neck. Your hair. He kisses your breasts as soon as he frees them from your bra. 

“You know, the day that we met, the painting class,” he tells you, spreading your legs open. His hair is tickling your stomach as he leaves wet kisses there too. “I thought you were so pretty… I jerked off so many times that night…” 

Sex with Hyunjin is like a dancing routine, one that you know well. You know what he likes, you know what he loves. You know what will make him cry out, what will make him shy and blow huge loads. He knows how to make you moan, he knows how to make you chant his name like a prayer. He knows how to eat your cunt, he knows how to lick your slit to smear your essence over your pussy before driving you insane by putting his pretty mouth on your clit. Hyunjin knows how you like to be fucked. He knows you will cum hard if he chokes you or if he says into your ear that he loves you when he feels you clench. He knows you will want to taste his cum so he always gives you a taste, no matter how deep inside you he came. You like tasting him on your own fingers or his, but you prefer doing so on Hyunjin’s own tongue.

Tonight, Hyunjin moans when he takes in the sight of your cunt. “So creamy,” he says. “You should have told me you had a marriage kink, angel. I would have proposed a lot sooner.” 

What you want to say is you have a Hyunjin kink, but you lose your voice when his tongue finds your soaked folds, sending shivers throughout your whole body. Hyunjin looks good there between your legs. Sometimes he ties his hair behind his head before eating you out, especially when he intends on doing so for a long time. But you’re glad he didn’t tonight. You like the sight of your juices sticking to his black hair, drying there. 

“You smell so good…” Hyunjin’s breath tickles your sensitive pussy. “You taste so good too. Please cum on my mouth, angel. Then I’ll fuck you. Okay?”

What Hyunjin wants, Hyunjin gets—it’s not like you have much control over it anyway. If he decides he makes you cum with his mouth, he just does. No matter how hard you try to resist him, he’ll just make you cum.

That night, Hyunjin spreads your pussy lips open with one hand before making out with your cunt, slurping you just the same way he eats a mandarin from Jeju—not wasting a single drop of its sweet juice, worshiping every corner of you like he is a whole man of god and you’re god. Your pussy is his goddess, he often says. Your cunt is the altar he prays at, the canvas he paints, the floor on which he dances. 

Hyunjin cocks his head to the side, his forehead pressing against your thigh, forcing you to open your legs wider. He pushes his tongue into your tight hole, lapping at you at first, making you clench around it, making you scream with your mouth open. He is god. No, his mouth is the cross on which you beg to be nailed onto—let him tear you apart there, let him torture you, let him make you and unmake you. 

Hyunjin fucks you with his tongue, moving his head between your legs, smearing your juices all over his face and yourself and the sheets beneath you, staining him with your love. 

He isn’t exactly the man you met at the painting class. He is bolder, unafraid for the most part. He fucks you hard and a lot. He loves you hard and a lot. He paints but he dances too, teaching others how to move with purpose, how to let your body listen to the music because it knows. The heart knows. Your heart knows that Hyunjin is the only music you ever want to dance to. The music of his plush lips running along your pussy, making the pressure between your legs turn into a painful ache, a delightful torture. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your pussy but you feel it in your soul. “My angel.” 

You could cum from that, but instead Hyunjin pushes two fingers into your hole, stretching you, the squelching sound of that so lewd it makes you want to say a prayer. You want to keep watching, you want to see his face twist in pleasure when your taste overflows him but you can’t. Your head falls back on the mattress as Hyunjin closes his lips around your clit, giving it a few flicks of his tongue for good measure. A warning, a promise. You don’t need to see it, really—you’ve seen his slutty lips coated with your cream make heaven descend upon you more than once. You don’t need to see it but you’ll never get tired of it, of him, of the way he sucks and licks and plays with your clit. Of the way he loves you.

You’re close. You feel your wetness under you, Hyunjin’s fingers twirling inside of you, massaging your walls while he kisses and sucks your cunt. While his mouth fucks your clit. 

“Hyunjin Hyunjin Hyunjin Hyunjin—” You’re not just close, you’re about to cum. Hyunjin moans against you when you clench around his slender fingers, so he curls them to reach your sensitive spot, fucking you with his fingers and his mouth and his soul. 

Your whole body tenses up. You see stars when, finally, Hyunjin applies more pressure onto your g-spot while sucking hard on your clit. You come undone, you become a writhing mess on a cum-stained bed, and you cum, rubbing your pulsing cunt against Hyunjin’s pretty face. He waits until you are calmed down to retreat—while you recover from your high, Hyunjin cleans you up, drinking you like he hasn’t eaten in a month. 

When he leaves the warmth between your legs, you watch him lick you off his lips, watch him wipe his chin with the back of his hand. Hyunjin kneels on the bed, coming back up to kiss you, to share your taste with you. His cock grazes your thigh, his tip nudging your sensitive cunt, and you moan into his mouth. In response, he aligns himself with your slit and rubs his hard length onto you, coating himself with your cream.

“Please,” you beg as if he hadn’t just made you see stars with his mouth. But Hyunjin just rubs himself. 

He’s so hard and you clench around nothing. You reach for his cock between your legs, pressing your palm onto him to maximize the contact with his cock. 

Hyunjin grunts. “Fuck, you were right.” The sound of his voice, deep, thick, is enough to send another jolt of pleasure through you. The aftershock surprises you, but Hyunjin doesn’t stop rolling his hips to rub, rub, rub. “Your ring looks so good with my cock. Look, angel. You need to see. It’s so pretty.” 

You manage to rest yourself on your elbows to get a glimpse of it. Hyunjin’s cock, hard, leaking, his balls tight. Your hand on it, him using the slight bump of the ring to maximize his pleasure. “It is beautiful, baby,” you admit, still fucked out from your orgasm and haunted by Hyunjin’s tongue dancing inside you. You like the gold with the dark flush of his length. You’ll paint that someday soon. That and the colors you see when he makes you cum. Colors that only exist in Hyunjin’s mouth.

You’ll never get tired of him, of his body, toned and firm beneath your palms. His dancer’s body, his elegant limbs. The crescent-shaped scars on his upper thigh. The smell of his sweat, the taste of it, the taste of his cock as he fucks your mouth after he stretched your pussy. You’ll never get tired of his gentle voice when he calls you. You’ll never get tired of watching him dance, of watching him paint. Of watching him cum. 

Hyunjin leaves his position over you to lie down by your side, pressing your back flush against his chest. “I’ll fuck you so deep, angel love,” he promises into your ear. “As many times as you let me.” One of his hands wanders on your tits while the other lifts your leg. He doesn’t need help to enter you, he knows the way. He knows you by heart, like a song, like a dance. 

Hyunjin buries himself inside you with one thrust, the both of you crying out. Yes, yes, yes. This is where you belong. On his cock. Losing yourself, finding yourself, being made and unmade. This is where you want to die. This is where you started to live, not just be alive. His thick cock stretching you. His love filling you.

Hyunjin rolls his hips steadily, your cunt hugging him nicely. “So tight, baby.” You clench at that. “Fuck—wanna make me blow already, is that it?” 

Yes, no. You never want this to stop. You want him all inside of you, fucking his soul into you. “I love you,” is all you say. Nothing else needs to be said.

“I love you too, angel.” Hyunjin picks up a pace, pressing himself so hard against you that you are no longer on your side, not really—you're laying on your stomach, crying out every time Hyunjin slams into you and bottoms out. He is fucking you so deep you know he is bruising you. You hope he is painting your cunt in blues and purples before filling you with white. 

“Now, Hyun.” You can’t wait. You can’t stop moaning. He takes up all of the space inside you. The beautiful weight of his body on yours. The delightful stretch of his cock. The burden of it, the paradise of him. 

Hyunjin pulls out just to roll you on your back. He does like to look into your eyes when he cums. He likes to see it on your face, too, that you can feel his cum drip out of your hole. He likes to fuck you dumb, he likes to fuck you sloppy. Sometimes, he just likes fucking you deep and good and hard. 

You open your legs for him and he aligns his cock with your hole, staring into your eyes as he enters you again, meeting a lot less resistance than he did earlier. Hyunjin slams into you over and over, fucking his burgundy love into you. You clench as much as he’s twitching but none of you care to resist. Tonight is not like other nights. 

Tonight is better because there is a ring around your finger. Because Hyunjin thought you wouldn’t want to marry him—that you wouldn’t love him anymore—because he had made up the story with the pink rose and the label. Tonight is better because you fall in love with Hyunjin more and more every day. Someday, you will cease to exist because you will implode from the force with which you love and are loved. 

Tonight Hyunjin fucks you hard, kissing your lips, your neck, grunting and whimpering like a madman. He did say that you drive him crazy. He also used to say that you made him better. He made you better, he made you worse. He made you and unmade you.

You know he’s close when Hyunjin’s hand reaches between your leg and he traces circles around your clit. You feel your whole cunt open up like a flower, his cock hitting you hard, over and over. He is relentless. He is a force to be reckoned with. He is the man you will marry. 

Hyunjin pushes your hair away from your sweaty face. He is sweating too, but only looking more beautiful because of it. He kisses your forehead before delivering the sentence that makes you cum hard around his cock. “Someday, my angel, I’ll fuck a baby into you.” 

You cum forever, it seems, but you’ll never get tired of him. Your body convulses with the waves of pleasures that rip you into pieces—you cum so hard your vision blurs and you forget the world. It’s just you and him, Hyunjin. You’re floating, you’re falling. He cums hard, too, moaning prettily into your neck as he empties himself inside you, cock pulsing, his voice filling the room.

Hyunjin fucks you slowly, ultimately collapsing onto you one second after pulling out, a trail of his thick cum following his softening cock. He coats his fingers with himself before pulling his hand away from between your legs, and you lick him like ice cream, like a blessing from god. His taste is strong, addictive. 

Hyunjin pulls you against him. “My angel love.” His voice is sleepy. You’re tired too, but you hope you stay awake a few moments longer—you truly love the feeling of being so full with Hyunjin’s cum that it drips out of you.”

“Hyunjin,” you whisper, eyelids closing by themselves. “My Hyunjin.”

His warm mouth finds yours. He smells like sweat and sex and love. “I’ll never not love you, okay? He presses his hands against your back, like an embrace.

“I’ll never not love you.” Later that night, Hyunjin wakes you up with neck kisses and caresses on your ass. Later that night, after he fucked you for a second time, Hyunjin paints a bright blue sky over a turquoise sea and you watch him blend the colors into perfection. The canvas smells like sunlight. Hyunjin smells like the purest kind of love. 

You are in love with Hyunjin and he is in love with you. It is enough, but it won’t stop him from promising you the whole world or from peeling a mandarin for you, or from washing your dishes. You will always feel the delightful weight of him in your life when you fold his laundry or when you hear him read a bedtime story to the child he promised you on the night he proposed. It is enough. It is enough. It is enough. 

The End ♡

a/n: Hey everyone <3 If you celebrate Christmas, Merry Christmas! If you don't, I hope you are having a good day where you are taking care of yourself and feeling loved. I wanted to say a big thank you to people who have taken the time to read this story & especially to those who have shared your love for it. As you know, this story means a lot to me, and I'm very grateful I was able to share this with you. This is the epilogue... But I do think I will be revisiting this fic once in a while, with one-shots and drabbles. So this isn't goodbye!

I hope the upcoming year is filled with peace & kindness, for all of you. I hope you see beauty in everything, I hope you find comfort in everything, too. Thank you. ♡

taglist ♡ @cb97percent @changbinluvr @neosracha @hwan-g @streetlight-s @j-0ne25 @tanyas97 @hyun-bun @americanokisses @aimeexx @upallnight-s @hyunskizz @lotus-dly @thestarseeker @skzho @simpsarzie @taeriffic @kittykatprincess15