Hwang Hyunjin - Blog Posts

» EU SOU TIP FBI, SÓ QUE TROUXA — MIS

⟅20.07.22 — essa capa é uma inspiração dessa capa aqui -> ♡ (amo suas capas @.opher) e sim, eu amei o resultado, sinto que coube bem com o png principal e ficou uma doçura com essa cor. queria ela pra mim e nem conheço o grupo e é sobre isso. uns agradecimentos especiais para @.a-katana e para @.hwangsanie que me deram uma forcinha já que não sabia quem é quem no grupo.

☆Gentle reminder to my fellow Stays☆

Stray Kids released Stray Kids (music video) a little after our birthday, the music video was perfection and it was 3.25 minutes

Conclusion: Fantastic

STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD YOU MAKE STRAY KIDS STAY

*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*☆*

Curious little thing, aren't you?

SKZ: DanceRacha

Vocalracha - 3RACHA

Summary: Their unique abilities and how they affect people around them.

Lee Know: Phobokinesis

Lee Know was always stoic. He had a talent of instilling fear into others before he gained this ability, but once he did, he regretted it immediately.

He didn't realize he could do such a thing, but when Seungmin pushed him too far yet again, his threat rang true.

"Drown in a sea of spiders, pup,"

Those few words made Seungmin crumble within seconds.

Lee know didn't know why until his own fear caught up with him, dropping the illusion he created for Seungmin.

"What the fuck?"

Seungmin described it as a feeling of suffocating, his skin tingling, almost as if he had a giant centipede on him.

It was then that they all knew what Lee Know could do.

He didn't mean to do it, hell he didn't even know he could.

Since that moment, not only could he induce fear, but he could sense it.

Han was scared 95% of the time, making him stick to his side like glue.

Chan often had fear for all of the members, making Lee Know feel responsible for making him better.

Relieving him of his stress.

Hyunjin: Heart Seamstress

Hyunjin always looked like the romance icon. Even the members swoon for him.

But he didn't feel complete. He felt lost, especially with the hate that came with their new comeback.

He felt his best, yet was ridiculed left and right.

He tried again, only to be criticized and put down.

Why? He was trying his best? What was he doing wrong?

It eventually made him spiral, not wanting to eat or participate in practice. He dressed casually and refused to wear makeup.

STAY didn't know anything was happening since they were currently on break. He didn't even update his bubble, he felt so weak.

He slowly but surely felt his heart breaking, unable to breathe most days from the pain.

One day, Chan took him shopping, claiming he needed air to feel better.

He roamed as Chan gathered what he needed, finding himself in the art section like always.

He wasn't searching for anything, but felt a tug to the yarn and fabric section. A red string caught his eyes, and he reached for it quickly.

It felt light but looked heavy, and the thread wasn't too frilly, leaving each section smooth and soft to the touch.

He swayed it in his hands. Why did he feel the need to purchase it?

He scoffed at himself, pulling out his wallet.

Why not?

When he got home, he layed back down, clutching the yarn to his chest.

He unravelled the bundle, coming up with an idea. He knew it was stupid, but if it made him feel better then why not?

He wrapped it around himself, laying in a fetal position.

In his mind, the string would be able to bring his heart back together. Perhaps sew it back to it's full state.

He fell asleep to the thought, unaware that his body was literally reenacting his thought, sewing his heart back together piece by piece.

Felix: Starlight freckles

Felix was known for his freckles, whether it was the people that disliked them, or the people that adored them.

Felix was torn between the two, due to societies preference and the members opinions, but he always had a soft spot for the topic.

He had noticed his face itching for a while and chalked it up to changing his face wash, but eventually, it became unbearable.

He itched at his soft skin for minutes, minutes turning into hours.

He felt bumps on his skin, and as he pushed his nail against the frail flesh, he felt one burst.

He panicked, rushing to the mirror.

He was alone in his hotel room, so he wasn't entirely worried on someone seeing him.

When he reached the glass, his reflection held something he didn't expect.

This freckle that was once there was now a shimmering gold color.

A star.

Before he could think any further, he scratched more aggressively at his face, more gold specks shimmering through the torn skin, a red hue engulfing his head at the onslaught.

He eventually peeled the last bit of freckled skin, a constellation brewing.

He sighed, feeling nothing but satisfied with the itching now gone, but also to a new person he didn't realize his body was hiding.

The haters lied. This is who he is, not what they think.

Hyunjins Smile

Hyunjin, My Muse

Hyunjin Masterlist°°MDNI. Divider by @cafekitsune <3

Fluff <🩷> Angst <❤️‍🩹> Smut <🤎> Drabble <📌>

SKZ when your period leaks through 📌 🩷

Perv Head-cannons! 🤎 📌

SKZ and your anxious tics 📌 🩷

SKZ and their favorite part of you 📌 🤎

SKZ with a Goth Partner 📌🩷

Pictures of

Pookie Hyunjin

Hyunjins Smile

Movie Night 🩷🤎 - (requested) You and Hyunjin came together for movie night, but one scene flusters him. You help him out since he's a virgin.

Casual Distractions 🤎 - (requested) Lee Know and Hyunjin cornered you into a janitors closet, showing you just how much they cared about you.

Member x member

Curious Hearts 🤎 🩷 - Seungmin found out that Hyunjin was a virgin, and that he also wanted Seungmin to take it. MDNI

I'm in the middle of brainstorming for a Supernatural/Fantasy series for Skz, but I'm not sure what to start with. Could I use some help?

If you can think of anything different, leave a comment! All will be read and appreciated!

Can u pls do a story where like Hyunjin/Lee know is touching u during class? (Pls I’m desperate😭😭😭)

Casual Distractions

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n: I'm so sorry it took so long. Life has been kicking my ass. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: smut, public scenes, social anxiety, threesome? Mxm, bullying, language

You were new to this college, and it didn't help that the language was more than difficult to learn. You were nearly fluent, but knew nothing if the inside jokes or curse words, which was almost everyone your ages' dialogue.

You found it hard to make friends after the transfer, but one person was always kind to you.

His name was Han, and his English was perfect almost. He helped you out in certain course since you shared them, helping you with your pronunciation and all that jazz.

He eventually introduced you to his group of friends that had been together forever. Eight in total.

They were known as Strays. They couldn't be more different from one another. And to top it off, most of them knew English. Two were Australian, and one had lived in America for a short time.

Ironically near you, actually.

All of them were polite to you, but you kept your distance, not trying to force yourself in.

It had been months since you met them all, and it had become routine for you to sit with them in the cafeteria per Felix's request.

You still kept quiet, not confident on your Korean yet.

One day, you and Han were having a study session at your dorm, and got on the topic of crushes.

"If you had to pick between any of my friends, who would you want to fuck you?" He asked randomly, his face blank as if it were the most natural question.

You nearly choked on nothing, staring at him in shock.

"Excuse me?"

He looked at you, confused.

"I said, if one of my friends-"

"I know what you said, Han! But why?" You scoffed, jabbing at his shoulder playfully.

He pretended it hurt, sticking his tongue to you.

"Who do you think is hot? That's what I meant, y/n! Gosh," He grinned, watching your ears turn pink.

"What makes you think I like any of them?" You ask, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your textbook.

"Girl. It's a hypothetical question.." His eyes squint at you in silent question, and smile playing on his face.

You pause to think, unsure if you should tell him, knowing he was a blabber mouth. But you could easily say it was hypothetical just as Han did.

"Uhh, maybe....Hyunjin? Or-"

"I knew it! I knew you like him- wait did you just say 'or'?" He paused his prediction, wanting to hear who else you were going to say.

"I was gonna say, or Minho, Han."

You both sat there, looking at one another. He blinked while you shifted uncomfortably, not used to long periods of eye contact.

"Why him? Have either of you even said a word to one another?" He flicked at his pencil, holding it as if he were going to write.

"Not really...he's just gorgeous, you know?" You mutter, turning your attention back to your notebook. You felt judged despite them being friends. It almost seemed as if he were disappointed.

"Your right," you could hear the smile behind his words, making you look back up, returning it brightly.

"To be fair, though, we're all gorgeous, girly," He pitched his voice, flashing his undone nails making you cackle.

He lightened the mood knowing you weren't feeling right with how it was going. It was the main reason he was your best friend. He understood.

You both continued to joke and study, getting ready for the upcoming class.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, the only class you don't have with Han is the class you have with Hyunjin and Minho, ironically.

Hyunjin always says hello, and Lee Know just nods at you with a smile, but today, neither of them did so.

You looked at them multiple times, noticing how they glanced at you some times. It made you nervous. You wondered if you did something wrong that offended them.

They never sat next to you, but today they seemed farther than usual.

Their shoulders raised higher than they should be, almost making it seem like they were out of breath.

You were about to text Han in question, but the teacher called you out.

"Y/n, please step outside for your phone call seeing as it is more important than class,"

You looked up, seeing everyone's head snap towards you. Your heart stopped, "No, I-" your words got caught in your throat as you cleared it loudly.

You felt your face flush.

Sighing in defeat, you grabbed your belongings and darted out the door, catching the way Lee Know and Hyunjin looked at you with what looked like pity.

You held your head low, sighing loudly when you reached the empty hallway.

You walked towards the girls restroom, stopping before the janitors closet, just hoping for some quiet.

It doesn't last long.

You heard a door snap from behind you, making you jump, turning to see if you were in anyone's way.

But it was just the two boys you had been worried about all day.

"You okay, y/ninnie? We saw you freeze in the back," Hyunjin observed, his hands in his pockets as he stood to your right, Minho on the other.

"Oh! Yeah, M'okay. Just want the world to swallow me right now," you chuckled, your shoulders deflating.

"Don't worry about that asshole, okay? Just giving you a hard time," Minho scoffed, staring at the door leading to his classroom.

"Why are you guys out here, though? He's going over the test on Monday." You wonder, not wanting them to fail because they were worried about you.

"We just wanted to see you," Hyunjin said, making you confused.

"See me? You see me every other day," you reply, tilting your head.

"We just have something on our minds I guess. You are the only person we can talk to about it though," Hyunjin grinned, nudging against Minho, who smiled wickedly next to him.

Your heart dropped.

"A little Birdy may have told us something you said from yesterday," Minho growled, bringing his arm to cage your left to the wall while Hyunjin did the same on the other side. You squeezed, making them chuckle.

"Hans a liar," you whispered, feeling your face warm up.

"Are you sure, baby? Cause we can give you what you want," Hyunjin groaned next to your ear, your body shivering in anticipation.

"I-I-" you stuttered, your breathing suddenly shallow as you try to clear your foggy mind.

"Relax," Minho whispered.

Thats when you heard a door handle turning behind you, the wall disappearing that held you, making you fall. But Hyunjin was behind you in seconds, gently bringing you to the tile floor in the closet, Minho closing and locking the door behind him.

You three had officially now moved out of the public eye, away from any onlookers.

"This okay, Princess?" Minho asks as he kneels next to you, your faces inches away.

You breathe out a shaky yes before he nods, looking at your lips then back to you.

He leans in, locking his lips with yours as he started gentle, quickly becoming more rough but the second.

You moaned into Minho as you felt another pair of hands fondling your clothes breasts.

Hyunjin took his time, not bothering to take of your shirt, hoping you wouldn't look like walking sex by the time they were done with you.

He wanted to feel your nipple between his teeth, but he told himself to wait. That they can have you properly after school.

Minho growled into the kiss, shoving his tongue down your throat as you panted into his mouth.

"Let me have a turn, hyung!" Hyunjin whined as he played with your clothes nubs.

Minho pulled himself off of you, grunting. You didn't like the loss if contact, grabbing at his forearms.

"Finally," Hyunjin chuckled, grabbing the back of your head to pull you into him.

His lips crashed against yours, the rhythm easy to control.

Lee Know took his chance to run his hand up your skirt, fisting the fabric of your underwear before pushing them aside.

He ran his fingers through your slick folds, moaning at the feeling of your excessive wetness.

He shoved his middle finger into your hole, pumping slowly as Hyunjin sucked the air from you.

You were both moaning, the kiss getting sloppier until it was just wet pecks.

"Feel good, baby?" Hyunjin asked as he listened to Minho add another finger, the slickness making a sinful sound in the quiet closet."S'good,"

Your head tilted back, Hyunjin takes his chance to nip at your collar bone, leaving a trail of marks. He tried keeping them close to your neckline, hoping you could hide them.

You grabbed at his hair with a moan, pulling it gently as Minho quickened his pace.

He groaned against your neck, teeth scraping against the purple spots now blossoming on your neck.

They both kept at it until you felt the knot forming in your stomach.

"There!" You plead, Lee Know hitting your g-spot roughly now with three fingers.

"Here, baby?" He teases, now hitting it harder.

You were writhing underneath them as you felt your wife snap, your high washing over you suddenly.

Your body shook from overstimulation, nearly crying as they pushed themselves from you after you came down.

"That felt so good," You mutter, your eyes fluttering shut.

They both smirked at one another.

When you opened your eyes, you saw Minho pushing his wet fingers into Hyunjins mouth, his eyes rolling back at the taste of you.

The sight of them being intimate made your hole clench around nothing.

"Come over after school?" You asked them quietly, and try both nodded.

"we'll make you feel a lot more, I promise," Hyunjin smirked, pecking your lips gently. Minho did the same, helping you up.

All the way to class, you could feel your slick drip down lower on your thigh, making you both embarrassed and aroused as you thought about what they would do to you.

Perv! Skz! Headcannons

Warnings: Perv behavior, obsessed Skz!, smut, unsuspecting reader, actions of weirdos

A/n: MDNI, just my thoughts on how they would behave were they perverts <3

Perv! Chan- 2/10

Conflicted eternally once he starts having these thoughts about you. He wouldn't act on them because he respects boundaries and cares for your comfort.

Didn't see you that way until you started wearing more revealing clothes. A short white tee during one if your walks. Low and behold, it rained.

Your pink lace bra/bare chest appeared through the wet material, making the poor boy flush.

He didn't have an umbrella, so he used his large frame to cover you until you could find shelter. He wouldn't even look at you, unable to breathe when he does so.

He always saw you as a kind friend up until that moment. He always knew you were beautiful, but when he caught glimpse of your torso, glimmering with the combination of rain water and dim lighting, he thought you a god(dess) in disguise.

Since then, he would gift you clothes that were either a little too small, or crop tops. You never realized it was more for him than you, seeing as that was your style anyway.

He loves being able to dress you the way he wants, and relishes in the way you thank him, hugging him tightly so he can feel all of your curves underneath the thin cotton.

He also loves the way you smell. Your shampoo and perfume make a perfect seductive concoction, making him dizzy and unable to concentrate.

When he hugs you from behind, he would quietly inhale, eyes rolling back, a small smile on his face.

He likes holding your hand in his, seeing the size difference. It's not necessarily a size kink, he just likes knowing that he can mold his into yours in different ways.

Perv! Lee Know- 9/10

Not afraid to be excessive.

He would grab at your ass, but you thought nothing of it because he does it to literally everyone.

His hands would longer a bit longer, though .

Sometimes he would come to stand behind you without you noticing, and when you move to step back, you hit his hard chest, turning to look at his stoic face.

He likes being in close proximity of you, feeling calmer knowing you were there.

He would wrap his arms around your waist to bring you down on his lap, cuddling you tightly as you both sat.

He would massage your thighs, sometimes going a bit too high, brushing against the inner lining that reaches your jean zipper.

He would often flirt with you verbally, and also use a lot of praise when it comes to talking about you.

He likes brushing his hands against your cheeks at random, making your breath hitch, waiting for what he does next.

That damn bastard drops them with a smirk, walking away.

He would sing about you to you, making you blush.

He would randomly kiss your hand, sometimes kissing further up your arm until he reaches his neck.

One time he decided to nip at it, making you gasp. He laughed.

He would eventually make his way to your lips.

"Finally!"

Perv! Changbin- 4/10

Total gentleman.

He had known you for a while, so it was natural to form feelings, right?

Chan told him it was okay, but his thoughts made him think otherwise.

Why is he looking at your ass when you walk away?

Why is he looking at your semi-exposed chest when you lean over?

Why is he noticing how plump and kissable your lips are?

He takes care of himself at night when the thoughts become too much, but he wakes up feeling guilty.

You were his best friend. The one that has gotten him through so much. You would probably think him disgusting if you knew.

He would hold your hand when he's stressed, and as if it were muscle memory, you would in turn wrap your entire torso around his arm, hoping to calm him down.

When he eats, you eat right with him, if not more. It becomes fun and sweet. A memorable moment for him.

When he's hyper and joking, your there to laugh with him, even if no one else does.

He loves you.

He would think that you love him too, but he then realizes all of the thoughts he had the night before.

When you saw him sitting in the studio lost in thought, you asked him what's wrong.

"Y/n?! What are you doing here?"

He jumped on the small loveseat, snatching the pillow at his side and covered his center with it.

You looked at it, getting an idea of what was wrong.

"Need some help?"

Perv! Hyunjin - 6/10

Total lover.

He follows you like a lost puppy waiting for directions.

His eyes are always glossy when looking at you, a small smile plastered onto his face when he's near you.

He loves wrapping his long ass fingers around your thin forearm, grinning at how his hand could probably wrap around twice.

Definitely has a size kink.

Wraps his legs with yours if your lying together on the floor.

Blows at your ear to get your attention

Begs to let him draw you naked, meaning he needs you to undress in front of him for hours.

Of course you said no.

For now.

He would whine at your answer, saying he needed to see you.

Very forward about his needs with you, and how he needs you to be the one to help him.

But he does it in a way to not make you feel uncomfortable.

He came too close one day and ended up kissing the shell of your ear, making you both freeze.

Hyunjin knew he needed to do that again, but he didn't want to push too far.

He waited for you to say something.

"Do that again...just wanna see how it feels,"

Perv! Han- 7/10

Definitely a panty sniffer.

Never been caught.

He loves when you hug him from behind, or just in general really.

Loves being close to you so he can smell you. Whether it's sweat or perfume, he could sit next to you all day. Bask in your scent.

He steals your hoodies and wears them often, hoping it will run off onto him.

He also steals a few pair of undies, sniffing them late at night as he touches himself.

His eyes glazed over when you take your own sweatshirt off, your inner shirt raising, showing your tummy.

He sees the soft flesh, and wants to shove his face into your pillow like skin. He wants to knead his first fingers into your stomach.

He bites your shoulder lightly when hes feeling particularly needy, because he can't tell you otherwise.

You think he's just being playful.

He melts when you kiss his cheek.

Lingers too long when he hugs from behind, pressing his clothed dick too close to your ass.

Perv! Felix- 2/10

Gentleman number two.

Cares about your comfort more than anything, so tries keeping how he feels to himself.

Takes care of himself before bed or in the shower, of course, imaging you and your body.

When he's with you, he is just his normal self with slightly more blushing.

And smiling.

He would give you massages and tell you jokes as well as praise you.

He would call you beautiful at least forty times a day.

Loves hugging you from the side, just to feel you pet his head.

Also likes messing with your fingers, noticing they are slightly larger than his.

Loves when you tickle under his chin. He likes being seen as a small kitty when it comes to you.

Rests his head on your lap to hopefully feel the heat from your clothed center.

Also tries to smell between your legs when he's there.

Tries to memorize the scent.

Tries to feed you to see your tongue poke out as you take a bite.

Perv! Seungmin - 8/10

Crazy lad this boy is.

He's significantly taller than you, so he loves standing behind you just to see his shadow against your small frame.

Likes when you look up at him with sparkling eyes.

Boops your nose, watching as you scrunch your face in response.

He likes annoying you to see your mouth open wide as you complain about his actions.

He fights the urge to shove two of his fingers down your throat to shut you up.

He really wants to see you gag on them, tears trailing down your face as you take them.

He breathes heavy when he sees you wearing his sweater, hoping you would keep it on forever.

He grabs at your knees when you sit across from each other, knowing that your ticklish there.

When you get tickled, you let out breathy moans rather than giggles. Not on purpose. It was just your thing.

And he loved it.

At least twice a day he tickles you.

Gets hard at the sounds you make, leaving you suddenly afterwards.

Licks your neck randomly just to hear you call him puppy.

He would kill to be your puppy.

He loves it when you wrap your hands around his neck in a silent threat.

He melts when he hears you say his name.

One time you spit out your gum since it lost it's flavor.

Seungmin grabbed it and popped it into his mouth, loving the taste of you.

Perv! Jeongin - 10/10

Innocent baby that doesn't know how to deal with these feelings.

Tries to explain it but all that comes out are 'uhm' and 'uhh'.

You pet his head in comfort and he whines.

He humps your pillow in your guest room at his apartment.

You question the stains when you visit, making him blush.

Always red around you.

Can't help but brush his skin against you.

Hands everywhere.

Hates hugs unless they are from you.

Tries to grind into your side when you both cuddle. He loves feeling your soft exposed skin when your in your pajamas, making him hard immediately.

Kisses your shoulders randomly.

Drinks after you thinking it's an indirect kiss.

Uses your lip balm for the same reason.

Groans when he sees you in your bathing suit for the first time, hiding under the water in hopes his boner will go away with the cold water.

Dry fucks the stuffy you won him from a claw machine.

He never let you see it again after he stained it with his cum repeatedly.

Barely washes it since it smells like you and cum.

Thinks about wrapping his hand around your throat all day.

Curious Hearts

A/n: I thought of this one night and decided to write it. I hope it's okay. Enjoy!

Warnings: smut, obsessed Hyunjin, dom Seungmin, anal, degrading, nickname (pretty), sub space, MDNI! virgin Hyunjin, virginity loss

Felix and Han were roommates, and Seungmin and Hyunjin were roommates. The four of them shared a floor while the others were below them on the second floor, the Tennant's unwilling to switch apartments.

They didn't mind much. That just meant that the four of them were close.

Hyunjin had a lingering crush on Seungmin, and has had one ever since their debut. It left but always ended up creeping back.

He would often watch his fancams and silly videos made by fans, observing how he turned from a cute puppy to something more fierce, his maturing features not helping either.

And his voice! Whenever he would tease others, he would drop it a few octaves, his eyes turning into slits as he poked at the others, trying to get a reaction.

He never did it to Hyunjin, however. He was almost angelic when near him, and though he loved that side of his puppy, he wished he would use that voice on him.

He had told Felix about all of this, and he was so supportive. His jaw dropped however at the last words from the previous conversation.

"I really want him to take my virginity Lix. It practically hurts," He whined, not noting that Han was in the kitchen behind them.

And Han had to go and blab, being him. He just couldn't handle the information, finding it hilarious. Seungmin didn't, however.

When Hyunjin woke up the next morning, he immediately went to make coffee for both he and Seungmin as he normally does, not noting that Seungmin himself was sitting on the couch in the living room waiting for him.

He quietly made his way to the unsuspecting boy, corning him against the counter, his chest pressed flush against his back.

Hyunjin paused, thinking nothing of it.

"Is this right?" He asked the younger, motioning to the cup on the counter.

"Is it true?" His voice was deep, which made Hyunjin flinch, the sound making his body react.

"What?" He tried to turn, but Seungmin wouldn't let him. He didn't realize how strong Seungmin was, feeling the heat from his skin.

"You want me to take your virginity?" His low voice was now a whisper, and Hyunjin felt his soul rush from his body. The breath from him tickling his ear.

"I almost feel honored," Seungmin teased, licking the shell of his ear, bringing one arm up to drag it along his forearm. "But I had to hear it from someone else, Jinnie,"

Hyunjin shuddered when Seungmin interlaced his fingers with his own, his mind suddenly fuzzy and empty, unable to respond the way he wanted to.

"Han of all people, Jinnie," he tsked, pulling Hyunjin to face him. "Want me that bad, huh?" He grinned, noticing the dazed look in Hyunjins eyes, his breathing shallow.

All he could do was nod, making Seungmins head tilt, grin fading.

"Can't speak, Jinnie?" Concern laced his tone, but Hyunjin could tell Seungmin was finding it attractive.

He shook his head, gulping as his eyes slipped from the youngers down his perfect body. He could feel drool forming in his mouth at the sight.

"Do you want this?" Seungmin leaned forward, teasing him, letting his nose brush against his.

"Y-yes...please," was all he could whine before he leaned forward, capturing Seungmin into a kiss.

Seungmin immediately took charge, wrapping his arms around Hyunjins torso, pinning him back against the counter, a small sound coming from him only to be swallowed by the younger.

Seungmin groped at his ass, Hyunjin gasping into the kiss, allowing Seungmin to slip his tongue in, dancing his around Hyunjins as his knee pushed his legs apart, his knee resting against his bulge.

Hyunjin had to break the kiss as he moaned loudly, having never been touched like this by another person. It was so much.

Seungmin grinned as he watched Hyunjin tilt his head back, grinding against his knee.

"Want more..." Hyunjin groaned, the bulge in his neck bobbing from swallowing so much, the drool pooling in his mouth now more apparent.

"More? You want more, pretty?" Seungmin felt Hyunjin twitch in his sweats at the pet name, making him smile.

"You like that? You want me to treat you like a dog in heat, huh?" Hyunjin moaned loudly, grabbing onto Seungmin tightly, grinding harder onto his leg.

Seungmin had no intention of being mean, at least not this time. His words were empty promise, coaxing Hyunjin to finish like he deserved. He watched his face contort in pleasure, nipping at his neck when Hyunjin leaned forward against him.

"You gonna cum, pretty?" He whispered in his ear, earning a shudder and a loose nod.

Seungmin took the chance to force his hand under his shirt, flicking and playing with his sensitive nipples, and then he felt it.

The small shudder that rippled through his body before he stilled, his face turning into a pleasing frown like when he eats, a loud moan coming from his throat as his orgasm crashed onto him. It was the most beautiful thing Seungmin had ever seen.

After it rushed from him, his body became limp, leaning against Seungmin. His breathing slowly went back to normal before he nuzzled against him, sighing into his neck.

"You okay, Jinnie?" Seungmin asked, his voice at it's regular tone as he rubbed Hyunjins back.

It took a while for him to respond, but when he did, it was high and needy.

"More, Minnie, please... Wan' more," Hyunjin didn't sound like himself. He sounded almost childish, which told Seungmin exactly what was going on.

He was in sub space. Seungmin didn't realize how sensitive he was, and figured that if he and Hyunjin were going to continue after this, he would need to be careful not to push him too far.

"You sure, pretty? You seem pretty tired."

The whine that came from him was loud, and almost made Seungmin flinch. Hyunjin palmed at Seungmin in need, touching everywhere he could while leaning against him.

"Come here, Pretty. Let's go to the room okay? You need to lie down," Seungmin explained as softly as he could, leading him to sit on the edge of the bed.

Hyunjin made grabby hands at Seungmin, making him grin but giving in anyway, laying next to him as his neck was attacked with wet kisses, small whines coming from him occasionally.

Seungmin liked seeing Hyunjin so needy, and was flattered that he could let go so easily with him. It made him feel wanted.

"Please touch me," He heard from Hyunjin as he licked his collar bone, making Seungmins breath hitch.

"Come here," He nearly growled, suddenly feeling a surge of need ripple through him.

He sat Hyunjin on his lap, leaning into his neck to leave purple bruises. He tugged at his sweats before his own, quickly discarding any piece of clothing he could before Hyunjin moaned loudly as he fisted his own cock.

Seungmin watched in a daze, amazed at how beautiful he was despite the tears and drool. It almost made him look unreal, and he couldn't wait any longer. He leaned over him, cooing as the tears fell on his face.

"You okay, pretty? Want me to take your virginity, still?"

All he got in response was heavy breathing and an aggressive nod, his eyes boring into Seungmins with want.

He growled as he pushed his fingers into the boys mouth, groaning at how he sucked without instruction, his mind suddenly blank as he focuses on the feeling.

His wet muscle worked his fingers until the throbbed at the suction.

Hyunjin whined, reminding Seungmin what he was about to do. He removed his fingers, Hyunjin following, not wanting to let go. Seungmin shhed him as he brought it down to his entrance, teasing the rim with his own spit, making him squirm underneath him.

"Stay still. I don't want it to hurt, okay?" Seungmin looked into his eyes, hoping to comfort him before slowly pressing one finger in, groaning at the tightness.

Hyunjin immediately whimpered, not used to the feeling, however he wasn't not enjoying it. He loved the feeling of being breached by his crush, his tongue poking out of his mouth slightly at the feeling.

Seungmin pumped into him, waiting before pushing another finger in. It made the older howl as his back lifted from the bed, his eyes squeezed shut.

"You okay, pretty? Tell me how you feel," Seungmin commanded as he watched his fingers get sucked into him.

"So good..I need y-you, please!" Hyunjin writhed under him again, feeling too empty to his liking all of a sudden.

Seungmin chuckled darkly as he brought his fingers out, wiping them on the bed before reaching for his night stand, grabbing the lube.

He made sure he was covered before lining himself at his entrance, slowly pushing in.

The tip was barely in before Hyunjin started whining, grasping at Seungmin for purchase. It felt so good, and he was barely in. He knew Seungmin wanted to ease him into it, but he needed more and he needed it now.

His legs wrapped around Seungmins hips, and before Seungmin could stop him, he pushed his legs against his back, forcing him to bottom out quicker than he intended.

Seungmin let out a loud groan, the constriction on his cock too much for him. Hyunjin whined, moaning as he felt the cock within him twitch. The stretch felt so good, and he wished he could bottle the feeling.

"What the fuck?" Seungmin hissed, the muscles in his arms tightening as he fought the urge to pound into the boy below him.

"Move, please!" Hyunjin moaned, shifting his hips.

Seungmin looked at him with a dazed look, admiring him. He couldn't help but listen, seeing that his ass was so ready for him to take. He slowly thrusted in and out at first, watching the impatience of Hyunjin as he tried meeting his thrusts.

His little whines with each thrust turned into loud moans as Seungmin.started pounding into him at a fast pace, both now vocal with their pleasure.

He kept going, his pace faltering as he neared his orgasm, feeling Hyunjins hole clench around him, closing to his own as well.

Seungmin took the chance to grab Hyunjins cock, and stroked it to match his pace, earning a scream followed by a whimper. It was enough to make Seungmins orgasm crash onto him, filling Hyunjin full of his seed.

After being filled to the brim, Hyunjin stilled as he came, a silent scream was all he give as he felt it release onto his stomach.

Seungmin watched, loving the view. He pulled out after pushing them through both of their highs, quickly rushing to clean them both up. After that, he noticed Hyunjin coming back to him normal state, and curled under the covers with him.

"That was amazing, Seungmin."

He smiled, his heart fluttering.

"Is it what you wanted?" Seungmin asked. He wished he knew before, so he could've spent the last seven years loving him how he deserved.

"It was better," He smiled before drifting off to sleep.

Seungmins eyes widened, not expecting that answer. His heart swelled with pride as he draped his arm over the other, drifting to sleep himself as he breathed in Hyunjins scent.

BONUS:

"Yo! Did you hear that, Lix? Their doing it!" Han squealed from his room, making Felix shake his head with a small smile.

"I don't want to think about that image, Han," He giggled, covering his ears.

"Just wait til I see them next," Han grinned, waggling his brows at Felix. "They're going to hate me."

Can you write something with a very lovesick and obsessed virgin!hyunjin please? ❤️

Movie Lovers

A/n: I'm so happy to receive an ask! And I was really happy to write for another skz member! Thank you!

Warnings: smut, inexperienced Hyunjin!, soft dom! Reader, obsessed Hyunjin, fluff, dry humping, language

You two had been friends for a while. After meeting Hyunjin, you were both inseparable, and you quickly became friends with the rest of his band mates.

It was so easy to be yourself with them. They made you feel welcome.

Three years into the friendship, it was common that you stayed with Hyunjin, and no one questioned it. It was just what was most comfortable for you both, thriving in the others presence.

Every Tuesday and Thursday were your designated movie nights; that was tonight.

You both enjoyed romance and sad movies, so that was normally your go to. It wasn't often, however, that there were intimate scenes. You both tried to avoid those, but you had seen a really good movie you thought he would like, convincing him to watch it.

You though that scenes like that made him uncomfortable, and assured him that you could skip it, that it wasn't essential to the plot.

But in all honestly, if he were to watch something like that with you right next to him, he would lose his mind.

He had been crushing on you for about a year now, and you still had no idea.

He didn't want to imagine you in such unholy ways, especially because he doesn't even know if he's imagining things right. He had never seen a woman. He didn't even watch porn, but he knew all about that stuff.

It almost made it unbearable when he was hard at night, not knowing what you look like underneath your clothes.

He admits, your sexy with them on, but if he could see you without them, just once, he'd die happy.

You both spread out on the queen bed in his room, legs tangled as you both cuddled under the blanket. You started the movie.

About forty minutes in, the sex scene was about to start.

"You want me to skip it?" You whisper, unsure if he was awake or not. He had a habit of falling asleep on movie nights.

"No, it's okay. Just leave it," he responded. He sounded interested in it, so you let it be, enjoying the characters in the screen.

As it slowly picked up the pace, Hyunjin couldn't help but imagine it as he and you, tensing as he noticed his breathing getting heavier. You were basically attached, and he didn't want you catching scent of how he was feeling.

He could feel himself hardening in his sweats, his body reacting to the moans on the screen.

He wondered what yours would sound like.

You felt the heat coming from his body, turning to look at him.

His eyes were glued to the screen, deeply focused. You noticed the light sweat that breached his hairline, and the way his nostrils flared with each breath. His lips parted slightly as his teeth clipped his bottom lip, a small hiss could be heard.

His shoulders lifted and fell quickly, telling you that he was being affected by the heated sex on the screen. It made you grin.

It was no secret that you found him attractive, but the secret was that you had been wanting to be more than friends.

Ever since you met him, he was a charming gentleman that loved to make you laugh.

He was everything you needed in this world.

The sight before you tonight however, was not one you realized you needed. You could feel the wetness sticking against the fabric of your panties.

"Hyunjin?" He didn't respond to you, still looking at the screen with glazed eyes. His breathing stayed consistent, but still heavier than normal.

You brought your hand to his forehead, feeling the burn that boiled his beautiful skin.

He jumped at the contact, glancing at you, the screen, and back before blinking the blur from them.

"Yeah?"

You looked at his soft eyes with your own, asking, "You feeling okay? Your burning up."

His eyes widened, his breath hitching in his throat.

"Yeah I'm fine, just a little warm is all," He sighed, tugging at the blanket around the both of your shoulders.

Just then you realized that your legs were on his in a weird position, your body heat falling into his own. You felt bad, so you started to move.

"Sorry about that, Jinnie," You apologize before pulling the blanket from him, making him wince from the air filled room.

"Wait! Don't move your leg," He said suddenly, making you freeze.

"What? Why?" You were halfway off of him, the blanket completely gone from his body. Your leg was still draped over his, and the longer you waited for a reason, the more uncomfortable it became.

"I'm about to get a cramp, Jin. I'm moving my leg,"

Before he could protest, you tugged your leg from his own, his heavy leg stopping you mid tug.

That was when you felt something that you probably shouldn't have.

At the sudden friction, he let out a strangled whimper, quickly bringing his hand to cover his face.

Your eyes widened, not expecting to find your best friend hard with you draped over him.

"Hyunjin?" You stopped moving your leg, your thigh now pressed flush against his boner.

"I'm sorry. I got a little worked up. Just ignore it, it'll go away," He muttered through his fingers.

"The movie?" You asked, grabbing his wrist to pull it from his face.

"No...Yes? Kinda... I don't know!" He was flustered, you could tell.

Whenever he got embarrassed, he would frown and smile at the same time, making him look a lot younger than he actually was.

"What do you mean, Jinnie? What's got you all worked up?" You unintentionally flexed your leg, trying to get more comfortable, only to get another whine from him.

"Just some thoughts, y/n," he tilted his head back, closing his eyes, and let out a long breath.

You felt his cock twitch in his pants, making you grin slightly.

"Explain it to me. What were you thinking about?" You brought your hand up to his chest, brushing circles against his collar bone.

"Just you..." He shivered, his eyes widening once he realized what he just said.

"Wait...No i-"

"Me Jinnie? Thinking about me doing what?" You smile coyly at him, making him swallow hard.

He didn't mean to say it, but when he did, he expected you to freak out. Instead you leaned in closer. It made him impossibly harder.

"I just...I was imagining those people as us," He let out a shaky sigh, looking back down to you.

"Really? You want those things?" You ask him, bringing your hand to his neck.

"Yes," He breathed, his eyes lidded, glazed over with lust.

You thought he looked like a statue in this moment, one that would keep on display indefinitely.

"With me?" You asked as you leaned closer, both of your breaths mingling. He looked so angelic, it nearly killed you.

"Please, y/n..."

It was all you needed to close the gap, kissing him hard. You could tell you were his first kiss, but it didn't make the experience any less than. It somehow made it better.

Knowing that you were the first to do these things to him, that he trusted you enough to care for him.

And he felt the same way. He didn't know what he was doing, but he knew that you wouldn't care. That you would teach him properly.

He was yours.

You nipped at his bottom lip, asking for entrance, but Hyunjin didn't know. You figured that out, so you pushed your leg against him again, making him gasp into the kiss, your tongue swallowing all of his sweet moans.

You grabbed at his collar, leaning backwards, pulling him on top of you. Your thigh was still in-between his legs.

He pulled away from the kiss, his breathing ragged as he watched the mixture of both of your saliva drip from his mouth to your cheek. He thought it was the hottest thing he had ever seen.

"You want to feel good, baby?" You ask him, waiting for his answer. You wanted to leave the pace to him.

He nodded, making you smile sweetly at him. His tall, broad frame hovered over yours, yet you were the one in control, and he loved it.

"Make yourself feel good, then. Maybe I'll give you something a bit extra," You nod towards your thigh, making him whine, his brows furrowing.

"How..?" He honestly didn't know how. And it made you coo at him.

His confused look made you hotter, the wetness in between your own legs growing.

You lifted your leg, brushing against him. He sighed at the light contact, suddenly connecting what he needs to do.

He grinded his hips down into your plush flesh, a loud moan escaping from his throat. You felt how hard he was beneath his sweats, and you could tell he was above average in length.

You were getting impatient, but stayed still for him, loving his sounds.

He kept grinding into you, his hands placed on either side of your head. He loved the way the softness of your leg encompassed his clothed dick, the inner lining of his pants brushing against his slit perfectly.

His pace began to quicken, the sweat on his face more noticeable than before. His eyes squeezed shut at the feeling in his core, never having experienced it before.

He opened his eyes, letting a groan out at the sight. With each thrust, your entire body went with him. Your eyes watching his expressions with a grin, just letting him get off by using you. It made him cum quicker than he realized, his body convulsing at the force, but he tried his best not to put his body weight on you.

As he let out one last final moan, you hugged him, rubbing his back as he came down from his high, his hips giving one last final rut into your leg.

His breathing slowed, returning to normal after a few minutes.

"You okay, Jinnie?" You whisper. You let your hand run through his sweaty mullet, hoping he was comfortable.

"I'm amazing," He let's out with a shaky breath. "I've never done that before," he lifted his head to rest his chin in between your breasts.

"No ones touched you before?" You found it hard to believe, since he is the sexiest man alive.

He nodded, "I've never even touched myself, you know? I wanted to wait for the right person," he explained. His eyes shook, embarrassment creeping onto his features.

You could tell that he was sensitive right now, probably from his orgasm, so you decided to skip teasing, and save it for later.

"Well I'm honored that I could help you out-" you smile, but noticed the look on his face fell. "What is it, Jin?"

"I was kinda hoping we could be something more. More than friends, I mean," He was still avoiding your gaze, now pinching your skin in between his fingers.

"You like me? Like, like me?" You were confused. You had liked him for years, but never thought he reciprocated the feelings.

He finally looked at you.

"I have for a a very long time, y/ninnie. I can't believe you couldn't see it. The others did, but I told them not to say anything," His eyes glowed with a loving gaze as he stared at you in silent questioning, and it made your heart swell.

"So you want me to be your girlfriend?" You asked, your smile widening by the second.

"Yes! My god, y/n! Yes," He pretended to be annoyed, but the smile on his face said otherwise, making you smile.

"Fine. But you have to be my boyfriend," you tease, poking his cheek.

"One would think those two things go together," he grins.

"Just had to make sure."

You both lied down together in his bed, turning the tv off as you embraced one another.

The first night you share together is absolutely priceless, and your glad you found him.

Thanks anon for the ask! Hope you like it!🤎

Pictures you'd take of your Pookie!Hyunjin🥟

Skz With A Goth Friend/Partner! Reactions!

A/n: As a goth person, I really like this trope, but it’s extremely rare. Hope I don’t disappoint!

Summary: How they treat you as a person during their time with you.

Warnings: Language. I think that’s it. Enjoy! <3

Bangchan:

He treated you no different than he did anyone else. Underneath all of the makeup and accessories, you were human, too. He barely noticed it, honestly. He just saw you. He had that charm, making you fall for him. He bought you snacks and coffee, always being sure to also get you small goth keychains or charms for your bracelets. He didn’t mind it as much as strangers did.

When you first met him, it was by accident. You were auditioning at JYP, only to be turned down because you refused to abandon your style. Leaving, you ran into him, waiting to be judged with his gaze. Instead, you found a worried, warm gaze looking down at you, offering you a hand.

“Hey? You alright?”

Ever since then, you have been attached to his side. He became your support, and he was happy to claim that title. (#gothprotectorchan)

The first time he saw you without the makeup, he didn’t know who you were. And you let him reintroduced himself, and you finally told him, making him blush.

“Why would you do that, y/n!” He was so embarrassed. You reassured him that it didn’t bother you before you hugged him, getting ready to watch a movie.

Lee know:

He found it extremely attractive. He was all for people being real, and the way you presented yourself was screaming, ‘I am me, fuckers’.

He loved that he has never seen your bare face, because he knows that that isn’t your strongest version of you. If you could, he knew that you would tattoo your makeup permanently. He always stood by you, knowing the looks that you get. Fans even dared to ask him if you were his girlfriend, their faces disapproving, which upset him.

“What’s it matter if she Is? She’s gorgeous, isn’t she?” He’d say before gazing at you with heart eyes.

He’d always stick up for you, and loved that you let him.

He also loved how feline your features were, the makeup only highlighting them more. You even had the attitude of one, making him smirk whenever you’d start chewing out one of his members for no reason.

He also loved the dramatic outfits. It made him feel the need to match you, making sure to look his best for you as you do for yourself.

Changbin:

He thought the look looked perfect on you, but preferred seeing your face without the makeup. He thought that the natural glow of your skin was gorgeous, but you assured him that with the makeup was when you were your true self.

He was your best friend because he was so supportive. He always made sure to get you things that reminded him of you, and your collection grew perhaps a bit too large.

Nearly everything reminded him of you.

You even tried battling him with rap and lost. A lot. But you didn’t mind. It was fun.

Whenever you walked past him, you made sure to point out how your healed boots made you taller than him, making him respond by stepping on the toe of your shoes, both of you laughing as Hyunjin watched the interaction with a confused expression.

You both had matching rings, black (of course), that you wore on your pinkies. He had never taken his off, even during performances. You took your off before bed, but putting it on was the first thing you did when you woke up.

Hyunjin:

When he first saw you, it was when he first debuted, not fully grown, and slightly awkward. The first thing he thought was, ‘fashion icon’. He saw how comfortable you were in your own skin, how your gaze pushed past the judgmental eyes glaring at you. He needed to befriend you immediately. Now, him being the king at Versace, he became a model alongside you after some convincing, and did duo shoots together.

He was known for being clingy when it came to you, and you both did everything together. He learned a lot fashion wise from you, and loved that you were still the same goth girl he met (hotter, now). Now, any picture he takes has you in it, whether it’s in the background, in the front, or not in the picture at least and he just tagged you.

You were his everything, and he even wants to be you. You were iconic. Your attitude towards the world was so different from his, and he loved that.

He would paint anything you asked for, no matter how disturbing, his mind not questioning it once. He loved and adored you, and would do anything to make you happy.

He even bought you a black rose bouquet, thinking of you when he saw them. Naturally, you loved them.

Han:

He would put a lot of focus on it, and even make jokes about it.

“Going to go brood at the edge of a swamp or something?”

“Jo Jo Siwa? Is that you?”

“Presenting…Emona Lisa!”

It didn’t bother you, though. You found it cute. He put a lot of focus on who you were, making sure people never forgot. He even went as far as to write a song about you, and the color of your soul. It touched your heart.

He would play with the fringe at some of your outfits when you sat next to each other, and loved to talk to you about your jewelry. You would even share at some points. He wore your cherry earrings for a performance, wanting you to see that he could be goth too (hA!). He wanted to show you that you and him were meant to be besties.

During sleepovers, he would see your bare face and call you beautiful, but commented that he liked you with the makeup, making your heart melt. You would paint each other’s nails, him asking you to paint his black. You even do goth makeup on him during those nights, both falling for the look on him.

“I’d fuck myself,” he said, making you choke on air before laughing your lungs out.

“Oh yeah? You into the goth scene, Han?”

“Yeah… I’m also into you,”

Felix:

He watched as danced alongside Minho. He challenged you to dance some difficult dances while wearing your dramatic outfit that had lots of tufts and fluff, but it didn’t stop you from accepting. You were the main dancer o your own group, so it was just natural to you, much to everyone’s surprise.

Felix over when you visited. You were a part of a pastel k-pop group, so you were an obvious contrast to your members. But it never seemed to bother you, which attracted him. He loved how confident you were, and how proud you seemed to be when explaining your style.

He jumped in next to you, dancing with you and Minho. You were all now just having a good time, forgetting about the stupid bet. You proved that it wasn’t difficult. When Minho asked how, all you said was,

“How can I struggle when I’m most comfortable?”

Felix fell in love with the snap of a finger, and in that moment, he was invested.

You both often got coffee together before head in to your respective dance rooms, often talking about childhood and how you got there. One of the things he asked about often was your style and other things related to it. He loved seeing you talking animatedly about something you loved, because it made him love it too.

One day he got shocked by his accidental confidence. You grabbed his hand, asking about one of his rings. He told you about it, and as you went to pull your hand back, he, instead, pulled it closer to his, interlocking his fingers with yours. You didn’t pull away. You walked together hand in hand until you finally had to split.

“Hey,” Felix said, gaining your attention. “Wanna hang later?”

Your eyes lit up.

“Always, Felix!”

Seungmin:

When you asked him to cover hard rock song, he halted his movements, looking at you. You had told him once that his voice would sound amazing in the rock genre, and he accepted the compliment. He didn’t expect you to request something.

So that night he stayed up recording his version of the song. Two days later it was ready, and he sent it to you through bubble.

He was right next to you. Instead of talking, he texted, embarrassed. He watched your expressions, and, unsurprisingly, there wasn’t any. He guessed it had to do with being goth, how you never expressed emotions on the outside. After it was finally done, you pulled the ear buds from your ears, turning to your best friend.

“That was fucking sick, Seungmin,” you told him, smiling. “Sure you don’t want to go solo? I’ll be your manager,” you joked, elbowing him.

His ears were hot, a clear sigh they were red. He looked away from your beautiful pale face, trying to compose himself before speaking. His voice cracked despite his attempt.

“Never going solo., but thanks. It was actually really fun. I’ve never done that with my voice,” he explained, rubbing his nape nervously.

“You did great, love. And thank you…you didn’t have to do this, you know?”

Before he could respond, you kissed him on the cheek, making him freeze.

“Would you be opposed to another request?”

Jeonjin:

You had known each other since childhood, so when your style started changing rapidly, he became confused. But it didn’t shock him. Your personality proved to match your new style well, and it was like he was seeing you for the first time. The true you.

He accepted it quickly, never questioning you once about it. He knew that this was who you were, and who you were meant to be.

He even used some of your fashion advice, just throwing in different colors. You two were so close that when he debuted, they offered you a staff position so you two would still be together. You accepted after hearing the proposal, Jeonjin ecstatic and happy. He couldn’t imagine being without you.

As the years went on, your style became more dramatic and seductive, heavier makeup that highlighted your features, and skintight clothes showing a bit of skin rather than baggy dark clothes. The same thing happened with Jeonjin. No longer the teenage baby bread, now muscular, sexy toast.

You two were the visual duo. He even made sure that some of your outfits matched, even if the colors were too dark for his personal taste, making your heart flutter. He was so thoughtful to you.

He even let you do his makeup for some of the performances, because he knew you knew how to do more than goth styles. You pointed his nails, and did a nightly skin routine too.

Their Favorite Part of You! Skz! Reactions

A/n: They all seem so sweet when it comes to affection, and it made me want to write this. I love them so much. HYUNG LINE!

Summary: Their favorite part of your body, both in and out of bed ;)

Warnings: Fluff, compliments, pet names, suggestive, smut? Language, insecurities, silly boys

Bangchan: Friend!Reader - Back

It’s no secret that Chan likes hugs. He hugs everyone around him, even staff. But when he hugged you, he preferred to be behind you during the embrace. He loves the way he can feel your back flex when you squirm against him. You’re a shy person, and he loves seeing your ears flush at his touch.

Everyday, he wrapped his arms around you when he was losing motivation or was annoyed, just to be picked back up again when he finally feels you relax as he tightens his grip. You were soft on his hard body, calming his nerves.

In Bed!Chan - Your wrists

He loved grabbing your wrists, either to pin them, or to place them on his body.

He would hold them, grounding himself to not be too harsh. Wrists were small and sensitive, so to be sure he couldn’t hurt you, he would put most of his focus on them, which he didn’t mind. It helped ease him knowing it would be difficult to hurt you this way.

He would bring your hands to his pecks, slowly drifting downwards until your palm rested on his bulge.

“Oh, please, babe…” He moaned, feeling your hand rock against him. “Don’t tease…”

Lee know: Friend!Reader - Thighs

He loved that when you stood, your legs looked so thin. They were sharpened pencils, frail but strong. He thought it suited you. But when you sat down next to him for the first time, his eyes widened, and all he could do was stare.

The fat of your thighs pushed against the chair, causing them to widen, naturally. Lee knows did the same, but he still was shocked seeing it happen to you. Your thighs were much larger than he thought.

After that, he had often welcomed you to sit in his lap, wanting to feel the softness of your flesh against his own. Not in a dirty way. He was curious.

When you finally gave into his request, he relished in the weight that pressed against his meaty legs, feeling secure. He kneaded the fat of your thighs while talking to one of the guys next to him. It just felt natural. It didn’t even bother you.

While walking past each other, he would even pinch your thighs just to see you yelp. He loved getting those reactions from you, nd it quickly became his favorite sound.

In bed!Lee Know - Thighs

Of course, it is the same. He would love kneading your thighs during an intense make out session, swallowing your whimpers. He loved it when you squirmed away when he grabbed too hard. It didn’t hurt you, it just felt too good.

He loved seeing the way your skin moved when he undressed you. The pressure moving it in a way that water does at a sudden impact.

He loved licking up your thighs, leaving hickeys and finger imprints, kissing every freckle and beauty mark, swallowing every bit of you he could.

He loved controlling your movement from your thighs, moving them however he wanted. You never fought, knowing of his fetish.

He loved masturbating with your thighs, and loved seeing his cum glisten on them. Breathing heavily, he would look you dead in the eye, and move down, licking his mess clean with his warm tongue.

Changbin: Friend!Reader - Hair

He loved seeing your hair bounce when you moved. It was so majestic, he couldn’t help but stare. Even when you spoke to him, he never made eye contact, looking at how your hair shined at the harsh lightning in the studio. He loved seeing it sparkle.

When you turned towards a sound, it was almost like your hair was waving at him, making him smile internally.

When you finally dyed it from your natural color, he was enamored. The peachy color clashed against your skin in the nicest way, showcasing your inner beauty. The color caught his eye always, and he could recognize you within a crowd just from it alone.

He was obsessed.

Months after realizing he was in love with your hair, he finally asked to feel it, your hair now a lavender shade.

“Sure,” You answered with a kind smile.

He was super giddy, happy to finally feel his weakness.

And it was so soft. He wrapped multiple strands around two of his digits, his eyes trained on the actions his hands were doing. He didn’t was to mistakenly pull, so he was slow.

“You look so happy, Bin,” you said, grinning. His face turned red immediately.

“Shut up,”

In bed!Changbin - Your face

He loves holding your face as he kisses you. When he’s fucking you into the mattress or the countertop. He loves seeing your expressions, the way your nose scrunches when he teases you. The way your eyes tighten when he flicks your sensitive buds. How your mouth opens in a silent scream when he finishes inside you.

He could cum from that alone, without even being touched.

But he loves touching you, especially when you’re making those faces. He sometimes even shoves his fingers into your open mouth, moaning as you close your lips, obediently sucking on them.

Hyunjin: Friend!Reader - Eyes

It doesn’t even matter if you’re talking to him directly or not, this man will just stare deep into your soul. He loves the color of your eyes, and the gold specks that line your iris. Walking art, if you ask him.

He has tried many times to replicate it while painting, but without the real model in front of him, and no photos to copy, he was lost. Thirteen canvases later, he gave up, now looking at the many eyes that stared back at him. None of them were familiar. That’s how he knew he failed.

Minho saw these paintings and sent a few to you, hoping to tease Hyunjin. You didn’t tell the ferret resembling man, not wanting to embarrass him. Instead, you asked him,

“Hey? Do you paint people?”

He looked at you oddly, “Yeah…? Why?”

“Wanna paint me?”

He immediately got to work. You were standing in front of him, so close that he could see every freckle and blemish. He was going to paint a portrait.

In bed!Hyunjin - Hands

He loved holding your hands in bed. It reminded him that you were truly there. He saw you as a goddess/god, and relished in your presence.

You always made sure to squeeze every once in a while, seeing Hyunjin blissed out so early on. It was a system that just seemed to fall in place. It was reassuring.

Hyunjin loved it when you rose him, tilting his head back with light moans. His right hand held your waist, helping you move while the other grasped your hand, squeezing it so hard to ground himself. He didn’t want to lose himself with you. He wanted to feel you fully.

Your hands helped him do just that.

i read this a few months ago but i reread it again last night and i LOVE ITT

𝐚𝐜𝐞・h.h.

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

words・15.2k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please, angel.”

“No! Leave me alone.”

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

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

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

“What the hell did you do?”

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

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

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

The air between you curdles like sour milk.

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

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

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

“Because you’re so scholarly.”

“I am not scholarly.”

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

“I need to get my steps in somehow.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Watermelon,” he mumbles with a sickening smile.

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

He spends the entire lecture daydreaming about tropical coastlines.

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

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

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

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

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

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

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

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

“Thanks, cap.” Useless.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep.”

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

“That’s bullshit!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hwang Hyunjin,” he says under his breath.

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

Then comes the yelling.

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

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

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

Hyunjin slumps over, dejected.

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin shudders.

It just might, actually.

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

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

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

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

Piazza replied within the week.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I thought you said your order was complicated.”

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

“Was it not?” You ask.

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

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

“What? Really?”

“No.”

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

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

“I do, but you don’t.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s thinking.

That can’t be good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can see it.”

“I can see killing myself, maybe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t like that at all,” you say.

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

“You have a kid, don’t you?”

“Wha—huh? Who do you think I am?”

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

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

You can’t argue with that.

“What do you have to tell me?”

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

“I’m failing anthro.”

So much for a serious conversation. 

“Come again?”

He repeats the mystifying statement.

“You’re joking.”

The look on his face says otherwise, though, and your eyebrows disappear into your hair.

“You’re failing anthro?”

“I just said that, yes.”

“You’re failing anthropology?”

“Mhm.”

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

“Yes. I’m glad you’re having fun.”

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Does it involve ingesting more sports equipment?”

“Do you want it to?”

“Just tell me the deal, boy.”

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

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

“On which part?”

“All of them. Everything.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, definitely,” you mumble around a mouthful of bread. “Please continue.”

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

“Let me guess. Not for you.”

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

“To dinner or to practice?”

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

He slams a fist onto the center of the wrapper.

“—you should manage our team.”

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

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

“Yeah? Who was your last manager?”

“Me!”

Oh, right. “But you hated it!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He flicks a thumb in the direction of your anthropology class.

“No fucking wonder you’re failing.”

“What is this, mock trial?”

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

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

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

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

“I would never.”

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

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

You stiffen. “I haven’t—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You do kick him under the table, though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Studied?” He repeats. “For this?”

“I’m pretty sure Quizlets were made.”

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

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

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

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

“Go easy on me, yeah?”

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

“I can’t promise anything.”

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

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

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

“You’re not nervous, are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you,” he murmurs.

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

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

“Caring about me.”

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

“Now stop stalling and tape me, dumbass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, you have to show me. Please.”

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

“Motherfucker!”

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

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

“You’ll be punished, Hwang.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

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

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

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

“You should’ve opened with that,” you grumble.

“I tried! Someone distracted me.”

“Read it before I change my mind.”

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

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

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

With that, his attention span has run its course.

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

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

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

“I think so. I hit my stride.”

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

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

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

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

“Why is that?”

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

“It really is.”

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

“I really would.”

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

“Didn’t you come up with that?”

“No, hello? I live in that village.”

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

“Fuck you.”

“Ah, don’t threaten me with a good—”

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

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

“Really?”

“No.”

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

“But I do give a fuck about you.”

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

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

Then he opens his texts.

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

He picks you up at 7:53.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well, you’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me, Minho.”

“I can too. Tell ‘em, Hwang.”

“I want nothing to do with this.”

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

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

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

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

“I’m okay, I think.”

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

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

“There’s Tetris,” Hyunjin cuts in.

You purchase an hour.

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

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

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

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

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

“I already did,” you finally answer.

“Sorry, what? You played professional Tetris?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then you’re smarter than you look.”

“Well, you look—”

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

“What was that?”

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

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

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

Something shatters inside you like old porcelain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you want to be alone?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then came the arcade.

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

In person, that is.

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

Then you listen to it again.

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

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

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

“It’s been a while,” he greets.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this enough space?”

More silence. You gesture to the volleyball nervously.

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you see under these things?”

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

“And?”

“He made them brighter.”

“Sounds about right.”

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

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

This cannot be his burden alone.

You inhale. “What’s on your mind?”

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

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

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

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

“Do you remember Ishikawa Yuki?”

“Your role model?”

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

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

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

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

You open your eyes, confused by the sudden silence.

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

You stop thinking after that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You feel yourself stumble ungracefully into the uncharted territory from before. Does he do the same?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Traitor.”

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

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

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

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

He stops speaking.

“Is that all?”

“Yes. Wait—and apple juice.”

“You are about to be a professional athlete.”

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

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

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

“Let’s get this over with.”

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin is already out the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“She really is.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeonwoo, right?”

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

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

“Also a singer?”

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

“Wow, that’s—hi, old man. You done?”

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

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

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

“Thanks. It’s weird. I’m happy.”

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

“The arcade wasn’t enough?”

“Don’t insult me.”

“Whenever you want, then.”

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

“Bet.”

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

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

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

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

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

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

Hyunjin doesn’t know what to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It has always been him.

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

It’s not awkward this time.

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

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

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

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

He balls his fingers into fists.

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

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

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

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

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

“—YOUR NATIONAL CHAMPIONS: SEOUL NATIONAL UNIVERSITY!”

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

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

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

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

“Love you,” he yells before hurrying off. 

“Love you too, Bin.”

Hyunjin turns a sheepish smile to the reporter.

“The short answer,” she deadpans.

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

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

Hyunjin thanks you.

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

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

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

Hyunjin pokes his tongue into his cheek, suddenly annoyed.

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

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

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

He calls out to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hwang, I need you in my office.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“As excited as I am to beat you again, Mrs. Choi, I need ten more minutes,” you call back. 

She presents you with an unpleasant hand gesture. You turn your attention back to your phone, grinning. Two new notifications sit at the top of your lock screen.

Hyunjin: Omw now. Sorry had to talk to Chris Hyunjin: Same park? Y/N: yes Hyunjin: Who’s the opp today Y/N: mrs. choi Hyunjin: Not that bitch again Y/N: ?

He’ll be here in eight minutes.

You return to the task at hand. You’ve already cleared out your apps, your documents, and videos; all that’s left is the audio files. You conduct a quick mental review. Surely you’ll live without your downloaded music and accidental voice memos.

Instead of hitting the “delete” button, you extract a pair of tangled earphones from your jacket pocket.

You go back to your texts with Hyunjin, open the shared attachments tab, and scroll for a long time before you find the voice note he sent you seven months ago.

He finds you a sobbing mess.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” He’s on his knees in an instant, gathering your hands into his, a world of concern in the brown of his eyes. Your earbuds fall out and clatter onto the cement below. “Baby, what’s happening? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” you say in a flustered haste. “Yes, I’m okay. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s happening.”

“Did that hag do this to you?” He asks this question so seriously. “I’ll beat up a senior citizen, I don’t give a fuck—”

“No!” You let out an ugly laugh through your tears. “No, no. Leave Mrs. Choi alone.”

“Then what is it? What’s wrong?”

Eventually, your vision clears enough for you to look at the man kneeling in front of you. His roots grow out longer every day, his hair by now nearly equal parts gold and black. A spot of sunlight infiltrates the magnolia leaves and lands on his left eye, turning it the hue of melted bronze.

Your fingers drift to the sides of his beautiful face as you lean in close; he smells like a combination of smoky rose and tropical coastlines.

“I’ll tell you later,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his hairline. 

He is dissatisfied with this, hooking a pointer finger beneath your chin, guiding your face back to his. He laves the saltwater from your lips, your tongue, and then you’re smiling again, barely able to remember why you cried in the first place.

You rest your foreheads together. “Have I told you that you look like a bumblebee these days?”

He smiles. “Does that make you my flower, then?”

“Because you’re irresistably drawn to me?”

“No, because I wanna put my pollen in—”

You shove him away. “You are grotesque.”

He returns in a flash. “You love me.”

You kiss him again. And again. And one more time for good measure, during which you mumble I do against his lips, and then you remember something.

“Why did Coach hold you back, by the way?” You pull away, tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. “Are you in trouble again?”

“No, no. The opposite, actually.”

Your brow furrows. “The opposite? What—”

“In this lifetime, please,” Mrs. Choi hollers from the chess tables. You roll your eyes. Hyunjin smiles helplessly.

“Duty calls, my love.”

“Tell me your thing later too?”

“Of course.”

You dust yourself off and stand up, making your way to the battleground. But not before you whisper to Hyunjin, “now watch me beat up a senior citizen.”

He laughs with his whole body, his eyes the shape of crescent moons, his mouth a little rectangle.

“Hypocrite.”

Hyunjin: [1 Audio Message]

This is my seventh take and I’m not recording an eighth. What you get is what you get. I don’t care anymore.

I understand if you don’t wanna talk about what happened at the arcade. I wouldn’t, either. I just wanted to say that you don’t have to do this tutoring thing anymore. I won’t be able to fulfill my end of our deal, so…yeah, it wouldn’t be fair to you. You’ve already done so much for us. For me.

As for team manager, you’ll have to talk to Minho and Coach Bang if you wanna quit. Doesn’t sound like a fun conversation, I know—but if that’s what you decide, I’ll have your back. They don’t scare me. Well, they do. Sometimes.

You’ve been…distant, this week. I’ve known peace and quiet for the first time since we met, and I fucking hate it. I realized I couldn’t care less if you’re my tutor or my team manager or whatever—I just don’t want you to be a stranger. Maybe that’s selfish of me to say, but I’m tired of pretending the idea of losing you doesn’t terrify me. It does. It truly fucking does.

I’m gonna end this here, because I almost just stopped recording on accident and I would’ve committed first degree murder if I had to do this all over again. Sorry that this got so long, and…I’m sorry about everything. You deserve better.

Come back to me whenever you’re ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · liked this work? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

𝙰𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚎 | 𝙷.𝙷𝙹

pairing: auntie!Hyunjin x afab gn!reader

warnings: smut, NSFW, fluff (if you squint), established relationship, crossdressing, mommy kink, spit, exhibitionism, public sex, choking, mirror sex, degradation, praise, etc.

a/n: a huge thank you goes to @httpdwaekki for helping me proof read the final draft since my ADHD refused to focus <3

Hyunjin has always been so pretty. He was the definition of a pretty boy, your pretty boy. His slender figure was accented with lean muscles, his angular face. He had a sharp and strong bone structure that was contrasted perfectly with more soft and feminine features. His eyes were catlike and striking, making his expressions almost dangerous. He truly was the most beautiful mixture of feminine and masculine beauty.

It didn't matter if you were backstage for one of his performances or on the sidelines outside the scope of the cameras during the filming of SKZ code episodes, interviews, promotions, or even live streams. You could always be found watching in awe as stylists crafted stunning outfits that painted him as their muse in a creation of elegant gender neutrality, highlighting his most feminine and most masculine assets. Using makeup to sketch the most breathtaking images of pure unfiltered beauty directly onto his features.

You were staring at your boyfriend in awe as he got dolled up for the newest Skz code episode, the return of Skz Family. You'd expected him to yet again be put in that god-awful, insulting black bob wig that always pissed you off as it hid just how beautiful Hyunjin was. Instead, the stylists began to tie his gorgeous golden brown locks into an elegant but messy bun, adding accents of wispy waves that framed his face in a way that added to his femininity in a way you'd never expected.

It wasn't anything new for the members to witness you being transfixed and nearly hypnotized as the stylists worked their magic. What was new was the way your eyes darkened as you watched it happening. You could feel your mouth salivating at the sight of the stylists adorning him in elegant, golden jewelry and soft makeup to make him look so utterly female.

He was still seated in the stylist's chair as they worked on him when your gaze traveled over him hungrily. Desire began settling into your bones, unlocking something so new and raw inside of you at your boyfriend transforming into such a gorgeous woman and it took you completely by surprise. Your gaze had caught his fiery one that was staring back at you through the mirror, a curious smirk settling onto his plump lips that were glossed in a sticky pink sheen.

You had to forcefully pry your eyes off of him as the stylists were adding the finishing touches. You trained your eyes to the floor, the feeling of slick heat sticking to your underwear was now painfully obvious as you shifted in your seat, still feeling his burning gaze on your skin making you shrink into yourself. You had to squeeze your thighs together to try to calm the arousal pooling in your lower abdomen.

You almost jumped out of your skin when you felt the burning touch of Hyunjin's fingertips gently trace lines across the expanse of your shoulders. You were wearing a tank top so you were able to feel every tingle that erupted into goosebumps on your skin that followed his touch from your right shoulder, across the nape of your neck, and ended at the other shoulder when he sauntered behind you and landed at your side, the one furthest from the stylist chair.

You sucked in a sharp breath through your teeth, still refusing to look up when his long slender fingers wrapped delicately around the back of your neck, squeezing slightly at the veins on either side of it causing a blissful head rush to form. You were already crumbling under your pretty boyfriend's touch and he'd barely done anything. It was very rare for you to become this weak so easily and it took both of you by surprise but Hyunjin seemed to be enjoying your loss of composure significantly more than you were.

He kept his advances subtle, targeting every single one of your weaknesses throughout the filming. During every break, the other members would chat with each other, drink water, eat a snack, or check their phones but Hyunjin would always land that piercing gaze on you. The fire of desire that burned through his irises left you feeling hot to the touch, exposed, vulnerable, and oh-so weak.

Sometimes he'd find his way back to your side and you'd feel a large hand landing on the top of your thigh, down by your knee while he continued chatting with the members. Those long slender fingers drawing patterns on the skin of your inner thigh with featherlight touches. The intimacy of the action, as he trained his attention on his members, was causing shivers to run up and down your spine.

The filming seemed to drag on painfully slow while your boyfriend continued to tease you in ways that no one would be able to catch onto. It was like a naughty secret spoken without words between the two of you as your arousal continued coursing through your veins and you had to fight every single tell of your body to keep anyone from catching on.

You were squeezing your thighs together the best you could without having to shift in your chair, and you were biting back soft whimpers that threatened to escape every time Hyunjin displayed his masculinity while appearing so unbelievably feminine. That was accomplished through his man spread, sitting unladylike the way he knew you loved, flexing his arms that were displayed past the loose sleeves of the blouse he wore when he grabbed something, or raising his voice in a deep and domineering tone.

"Cut! Okay, good job boys. That's it for today. So after you're ready to leave, go ahead and go out to the vans, and everyone should go get a nice dinner while we pack up here. Then you can all go back to your dorms since you guys have the rest of the night off." their manager told the group of boys who erupted into their usual post-film banter. Minho was first to go to the stylists, getting his wig and makeup removed, changing out of his Hanbok, and changing into more casual clothes.

You helped the staff pack up in the meantime. They were all telling you that you didn't have to help but you insisted just like with every single shoot in the past. You'd grown pretty friendly with their staff and managers having been Hyunjin's partner for a while now so it was easy to fall into casual conversation while you worked with your back turned to the boys.

"Hyunjin-ssi, let's get that makeup off and get you into your casual clothes." the stylist said while using a hand to call the taller man over. He stood up and was about to walk over until his eyes landed on you, the red blush still very obviously painted across the back of your neck and reaching the tips of your ears. A smirk pulled at the corners of his lips and he began to make his way towards you instead of going straight to the stylist.

You jumped slightly when you felt the featherlight touch of his fingertips graze the slightly exposed skin of your lower back where your tank top had ridden up as you helped the staff. A tingle shot up your spine and once again you had to bite back a whimper. "Noona, I think I wanna keep this on, is that okay?" he purred.

His hand landed on your right hip as he stood behind you with his right side facing your back, looking at the stylist. His hand on your hip was hidden by being on the opposite side from the staff you were helping and his grip became tight on your hip bone as his fingers dug into the supple flesh, sure to leave bruises.

You couldn't help but stand up a bit straighter and look over your shoulder to see your boyfriend beaming brightly at the stylist, standing tall and looking so nonchalant. There was no sign that he had such a powerful hold on you as his Noona just hummed softly, nodding at him and calling Felix over instead to get his Makeup off and fix his hair.

Throughout the rest of the members getting undressed and dressed in more casual clothes, you could feel Hyunjin's eyes burning holes into your flesh, unaware if his eyes ever left you. Even as the nine of you filed into the vans to go get dinner, his eyes were trained on you and his hand naturally found its home on your upper thigh.

"How's that pretty boy fetish of yours doing hmmm?" he hummed into the shell of your ear. His warm breath fanned over the skin of your neck and a shiver ran through your body as your head snapped in his direction. A pout on your lips and your big boba eyes meeting his feline ones.

"It is not a fetish." you quietly hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring his actual question since you already knew he was only asking because he knew how poorly you were holding up.

"What? Not gonna answer me?" he egged on and you rolled your eyes at him before returning your attention to scrolling through TikTok on your phone as you were doing before hearing his snide remark.

You heard him huff out a chuckle right next to your ear and he looked back out his window in the van, squeezing the flesh of your inner thigh making you jump slightly, having to bite your tongue to hold in the yelp that threatened to escape.

When you guys arrived at the restaurant, there were masks and hats fitted to everyone's face including your own as you were guided to the section of the restaurant the company had rented out to ensure privacy while you all ate. Hyunjin sat on your left side and Minho was seated on your right, your body being comfortably fitted between the two men.

Everything went on as normal during dinner, conversations floated easily through everyone at the table while everyone was eating to their heart's content, some pulling out their phones at times while they ate. Hyunjin's hand was still settled on your upper thigh as always and you could still feel him watching you at times but everything felt normal for the first half of dinner.

That was until you felt Hyunjin's fingers slowly snake their way further up your leg and his fingertips slipping under the fabric of your shorts. The tip of his middle finger was not even a millimeter from your clothed core when you caught his wrist in your hand, stopping him from being able to move. You held his hand in place and shot the taller man a glare to say 'not in front of them' which he only smirked at before turning back to his conversation and continuing his advances.

He was stronger than you so your grip didn't stop him from lightly running the pad of his middle finger over your drenched slit, not that you tried very hard to stop him in the first place. Your arousal that'd been building all day was now painfully obvious to your boyfriend as he touched you over your soaked underwear. You could hear a soft groan escape his throat as he felt your arousal drench his fingers instantly. Luckily Changbin was shouting at the perfect moment, his groan going undetected by anyone but you.

You had to put all of your focus on chewing the food that was in your mouth while breathing normally, making sure you didn’t choke on the food as you ate. Not letting out any of the moans or whimpers bubbling in your throat as his fingertips slipped under the fabric of your underwear and began to slowly drag through your wet folds. Although it was easier for him to remain calm compared to you since he wasn't the one being teased and toyed with under the table, you could still see he was struggling a bit too. The tent in his pants that was twitching painfully as he remained present in his conversation was a dead giveaway.

Hyunjin's fingers were beyond drenched by now, your grip on his wrist was tight as your nails dug into the skin on the inside of his arm, creating small red crescents indented into the paler flesh. He played with your clit for a while, causing your legs to twitch under the table, luckily going unnoticed by Minho who was sitting closest to you aside from your boyfriend, before sliding his middle finger inside your desperate hole and curling his finger to press against your plush walls.

Feeling the wet silk of your walls wrap around his digit made his eyes roll back slightly, a growl coming from his chest as his adam's apple bobbed in his throat with a harsh swallow. He leaned over you, pressing a kiss into the hair at the top of your head before leaning lower to whisper in your ear. His self-control was about to snap and he knew you were about to cum on his fingers from the way you clenched around him. He couldn't have you cumming in your pants, it'd make too much of a mess and he couldn't live with himself if he let all of your delicious fluids go to waste, so he decided that needed to do something about this.

"I think I'm ready to eat my dessert. Meet me in the restroom." was all he whispered against the shell of your ear before removing his finger from inside you, a quiet but desperate whine escaping your lips at your denied orgasm and he slipped out of the booth. Your glassy, half-lidded eyes watched him as he left and shoved his middle finger that was just buried inside of you into his mouth to suck your juices off of it while he maintained eye contact and disappeared around the corner. Luckily the entire exchange went completely unnoticed by the rest of the group.

When Hyunjin got into the bathroom, he locked the door behind himself and leaned against the sink, waiting for you as he palmed himself through his pants. Missing the taste of you, his fingers made their way back into his mouth, a deep guttural groan ripped through him in response to the addictive taste of you exploding across his taste buds as his eyes rolled back in bliss.

After a couple of minutes, he heard you knocking a beat on the door so he'd know it was you. You didn't even have a chance to finish the beat before the door flew open and you were yanked into the bathroom roughly by the wrist and your back was slammed against the door. Hyunjin was ravishing your mouth in an instant as he pushed his thigh between your legs and caged you against the door with his body. You could feel the wet spot forming on the fabric of your shorts and meeting the pale skin of his muscular thighs. The shorts he'd worn for the shoot had rode up his thighs a bit when he pushed his leg flush against your core causing the exposed skin to be in direct contact with the now soaked, thin fabric you wore.

"Are you gonna be good and let me taste you hm? Let Auntie Hyune make you feel good?" His voice was deep and sultry as he spoke his words against your swollen, spit-slicked lips as the two of you separated from the heated kiss. You let out a whine and nodded frantically in response, a small broken "p-please?" fell from your lips in the form of a whimper as your lust-filled eyes landed on his own set of red and swollen lips, the lip gloss making the spit that covered them look even messier.

He wasted no time sinking to the floor on his knees as he used his fingertips to slide into the waistband of your shorts and underwear, pulling them down to your ankles in one swift motion. He quickly got to work, placing wet, open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your right thigh while he lifted the other one to place it over his shoulder. Your back was still pinned against the door for support and the scent of your arousal was flooding his nose, making him feel intoxicated.

His kisses continued for a bit longer on the inside of your thigh and the hand that held your other leg on his shoulder squeezed and kneaded at the flesh. Getting lost in the feeling against his hand while sucking hickeys to the inside of your thighs when a long, needy whine left your lips. His eyes finally met your glistening core before flicking up to your pleading expression, a smirk on his lips when he saw just how fucked out you looked without him doing much to you yet.

"P-Please Jinnie... touch me..." you whimper while maintaining eye contact and watched intently as he brought his face close to your core. Not yet allowing himself to taste you while his nose nudged softly at the hair on your pubic bone, teasing you a bit. "I don't think that's what you should call me right now baby~" he purred as the air from his words fanned across your throbbing clit, a shiver running through you and a whimper that matched it falling from your lips.

"Try again and if you get it right, you'll get a reward. Auntie will make you feel so fucking good~" he purred out and his eyes met yours, his gaze was borderline feral, and his need was written all over his face as he licked his lips. He needed you in his mouth right that second and you were taking a little too long to think of what to call him. His patience thinning, deciding to pinch the flesh of the thigh on his shoulder, eliciting a yelp from you.

"Mommy! please... please touch me mommy..." you begged the man on his knees for you. A low primal growl filled the small space of the bathroom before his self-control snapped and he dove into your heat like a man starved. His skillful tongue was lapping at your juices while he was grunting and groaning against you, your addictive taste filling his mouth once again.

His hands moved to your ass, nails digging into the plumb flesh and pulling your heat impossibly closer to his face as his tongue swirled around your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your thigh that was planted on his shoulder was beginning to tremble and your fingers wrapped around his hands that held your ass firmly. You didn't want to mess up his pretty hair by locking your fists into his hair like you normally would so his hands were a good substitute.

High pitched whimpers fell from your lips as he quickly worked you close to your orgasm, that knot in your abdomen tightening when he started pushing his tongue in and out of your heat, fucking you open on it. Your soft "ah ah ah"s began mixing with Hyunjin's deep groans and the sound of him slurping and lapping at your sloppy cunt.

"M-mommy fuck... I- I'm..." You were close, so painfully close but you knew you didn't have his permission to cum so it took all of your remaining effort to hold it all back as his tongue never slowed down against you. Your head lolling forward as you tried to hold yourself up on shaking legs.

"So good for mommy~ go ahead, Angel. Cum on mommy's tongue." he cooed against you before resuming his desperate feast of you. That's all you needed to let that knot finally snap and you doubled over, cumming all over your boyfriend's pretty face as he slurped, continuing to work his tongue inside and against you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. His tongue settled into a lazy pace as he watched your face that was painted with that beautiful fucked out expression he loved so much. After a short while of this, your breathing started to settle again and he pulled away.

He hadn't realized that you were using him to hold yourself up until your thigh was removed from its place over his shoulder and your knees buckled, causing you to almost fall to the ground but luckily he caught you easily. His cock was still painfully hard in the gray shorts he wore as he scooped you into his arms, moving the both of you so you could sit on the sink as your legs trembled.

He took his place standing between your legs as he began planting soft kisses on your head, temple, and cheek to bring you back to reality. Aftercare was his specialty, it didn't matter if it was a quicky, oral, or him ruining you and fucking you dumb on his cock, he always made sure to give you the best aftercare. "That's it my pretty baby, you did so good for me. I'm so proud of you love." he praised you and continued his soft kisses all over your face as his hands gently massaged your hips.

"Hey baby?" he cooed after a few moments as you came back down fully, his comfort helping you not go into sub-drop and you hummed in response, looking up at him with heavy and almost sleepy eyes. Your juices still covered his nose and chin as he looked at you with so much love and adoration as if you'd hung the stars in the sky.

"The only thing here to clean you up with is paper towels and that's gonna be too rough on your pretty skin. Can mommy use her tongue to clean you up?'' His words were filthy but the deliverance was sweet and loving, almost innocent. "Yes... Mommy can." you cooed back and he smiled softly.

He gently licked the skin on your thighs, around your still pulsing core, and along your folds, being careful not to go crazy from the taste again and push you into overstimulation. Once he was satisfied with his job of cleaning you up, he came back up to stare into your eyes and one of his large hands were resting on your cheek as his thumb rubbed softly across the pink blush that'd settled there.

"My turn to clean you up. Can't have mommy going back out there with her pretty face covered in my juices." you cooed and pulled him into a soft but heated kiss, your tongue tasting yourself on his lips first before making its way around his chin, jaw, nose, and cheeks with small kitten licks to make sure there was no evidence left of what had just happened.

The exchange was loving and innocent but you knew he wasn't done with you. He hadn't even gotten to cum yet and you'd never let your beautiful boyfriend go without his release after he's earned it with the performance he'd just given you. When you were about to ask him if you could suck him off there was a banging at the door.

"Oi! Y'all need to hurry up and quit fucking in there! some of us actually wanna go home." Chan's voice boomed and the both of you stared at each other with wide eyes, having been caught before you both erupted into laughter. Your legs were more stable now as you hopped off the counter and got dressed again. His cock was now mostly soft in his pants, and his face was clean again, both of you perfectly put back together as if nothing had happened aside from the sheen of sweat on your skin.

When you both made it back to the table, hand in hand, you were met with some teasingly annoyed faces and some mischievous smirks as you both were eyed up and down before everyone stood, filing out of the restaurant with hats and masks back in place before climbing back into their respective vans to head back to the dorm. The ride back was silent with everyone full from the filling meal, some napping in the car, and others on their phones.

When the van you and Hyunjin were in, along with Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, arrived at the dorms, you all climbed out and grabbed your bags. The four of you climbed up the steps to the front door with Chan leading the way and unlocking the door for the rest of you. Once you were all inside he locked the door back and you all took off your shoes and put on the slippers at the door.

You were the last one in and as you stood up straight once your slippers were fitted perfectly to your feet you noticed that the other three were staring you and Hyunjin down. Eyeing you both up and down and you suddenly felt shy under their pointed stares.

"So, Jinnie..." Chan hummed out, gaining your attention and your boyfriend's. Chan had his arms crossed against his chest, looking like a dad who was about to scold you. "Is there a reason you suddenly wanted to keep your Auntie outfit?" he asked, his suspicion showing in his tone.

Hyunjin couldn't help but smirk and look at you where you stood stiff, eyes wide and avoiding everyone's eye contact. Seeing you like that made a huff of laughter leave Hyunjin's nose before he looked back up to Chan. "I think Y/N-ie could answer that question a lot better than I could. Isn't that right Angel?" his hand landed on your hip, pulling your body close so your sides were pressed flush together.

"I- it's... N-no um..." you were mumbling and trying to come up with any words to say that wasn't "apparently I have a mommy kink and like to fuck my boyfriend while he crossdresses." but your mind was blank, unable to think of anything except getting wrecked by Hyunjin while he was dressed as Auntie Hyune.

The three producers continued to stare you down and a flush rose along your neck reaching your cheeks and turning your ears a bright shade of red. Jisung's face contorted into an expression of disgust as he was the first to realize, being the horniest person to exist, of course, he'd be the first to figure out the kinky shit.

"OH MY GOD- EW! I DIDN'T NEED TO KNOW ABOUT YOUR CROSSDRESSING KINK HYUNG!" Jisung whined and covered his face and Changbin and Chan seemed to realize then, a smirk growing wider on Hyunjin's face and you shrunk into yourself in embarrassment.

"Soundproof headphones and locking ourselves in our rooms. got it." Chan groaned and turned to hide in his room, the other two following suit and leaving you and Hyunjin standing there alone.

"Well, we've got plenty of time and no need to stay quiet baby~ now, let mommy take care of you," he growled as he pulled you by your hips flush against his hardening cock, lips attacking your own in a feverish kiss, tongues dancing together outside of your mouths for a moment before your lips connected again.

"THEY WEREN'T EVEN ON YET!" you heard Changbin's voice carry through the dorms, a chuckle leaving both you and Hyunjin in response before he lifted you by your thighs, earning a yelp from you in surprise as your legs wrapped around his waist and he carried you to his room, his lips attached to your neck. He kicked the door shut behind him once the two of you were inside before he let your back land on his bed.

He climbed over your body, caging you against the mattress while he nestled himself between your legs. He continued painting your skin in gorgeous blooms of red and purple. His hips were languidly grinding into your core, his needy cock finally getting the friction he'd been craving, his movements eliciting a high-pitched whine from you as your hands slipped their way under the billowy white fabric of his blouse.

Your fingertips explored the pale flesh stretched over his sharp dancer hips before moving a bit higher. Your fingertips were light, barely making contact with the skin making the touch tickle but in the most intimate of ways. The tips of your fingers settled on the last rid of the cage you'd found home in, the one that held you inside his heart and safe from the world.

Your thumbs rubbed circles into the muscles of his abs, pushing in periodically to massage the tender flesh, the feeling causing Hyunjin to let out a moan that was swallowed by your feverish kiss that hadn't broken since he'd gotten you on the bed.

Both of you feeling dizzy from the lack of oxygen was the only reason the two of you separated. He continued the movements of his hips that matched your hips rolling against him as his forehead came to rest on your shoulder. He let out a shuddering sigh mixed with a moan, the noise becoming one of your favorite ones he'd ever made.

"Does Mommy need a little help?" you purred, suddenly feeling a bit more dominant than you had in the restaurant bathroom. Your words caused Hyunjin's hips to stutter momentarily as a broken whimper fell from his swollen lips. You felt him barely nod against your shoulder, your hands continuing their massaging of his sides until the pad of your index finger grazed his sensitive buds.

He let out another whine, allowing you to take over the grinding as he kept his focus on not cumming in his pants yet and keeping his body weight supported by his arms as they trembled.

"Mommy, can I please take off your clothes? I need to see mommy's pretty cock." Your words were a sweet mix of desperate, submissive, dominant, pleading, and demanding. The subtle authority in your voice was met with Hyunjin moaning before pushing himself up off the bed to sit back on his haunches, keeping himself nestled between your thighs, home to him, exactly where he belonged.

"Please, angel? I need to feel you so bad, I need your skin on mine. I need you so fucking bad." His sentence was almost a whine at first before shifting into a deep growl on his last sentence. He was actively fighting an internal battle of wanting to dominate you in every way and have you fucked dumb by his cock and wanting to give you all the control and beg you to use him as your toy until he can't even remember his own name.

Having noticed the struggle, you carefully removed each article of his clothing, pressing soft kisses along the flesh as more and more of his gorgeous body was exposed. You didn't wanna do anything to force him into a decision that he may not be happy with so you were giving him a moment, using all of your self-control not to jump on his cock the second it was exposed to you.

His cock was so so pretty.

A pretty, pale cock with a blush pink tip. It was leaking pre-cum as he watched you taking a moment to just admire his body. The way your eyes shone with love and adoration, lust and hunger, was something he'd never get used to.

Hyunjin carded his fingers through your hair, his eyes never leaving yours when you looked up at him with the softest, most innocent look while drooling over the sight of his cock, finally making a decision.

He didn't voice his choice, primal urges taking over as his hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed the sides enough to cut off blood flow. At the same time as an almost pornographic noise left you, he was leaning forward as he pulled you in closer by your throat. His lips on yours again with a growl and you opened your mouth to get oxygen again.

He took your open mouth as an invitation to lick into your mouth with his lips separated from yours. Both of your tongues fought for dominance in a messy drooly battle that had saliva drenching both of your chins as it leaked down from your lips and tongues. It was so unbelievably hot, you didn't think kissing could get any more filthy and arousing than this until Hyunjin pulled away just enough to spit onto your tongue that was still out for him and a shudder ran through your body.

"Now, why don't you be a good fucking slut for mommy and let me use that sloppy cunt of yours huh?" His words were harsh, in the best of ways. Before you could choke out a response, you were pushed back onto the bed and Hyunjin ripped your clothes off of you, hating how you were far too covered for his liking and the barrier of clothes didn't let him get close enough to you.

Once he had you completely exposed to him, he manhandled you into the position he wanted you. He sat on the edge of the bed with both feet planted firmly to the floor, you were kneeling over his lap with both knees on either side of his thighs. You were holding yourself up over his cock facing the giant full-length mirror that faced the bed, your eyes meeting each other in the reflection as you both silently devoured the lewd sight.

"You're gonna do exactly as I say, got it?" he asked in a deep tone, a whimper escaping your lips in response before nodding and maintaining eye contact in the mirror. You were biting your bottom lip as you awaited his instructions but you saw his large hand come up and be pulled back before it came crashing down onto the side of your ass hard and fast, too fast for your brain to even register it. A high-pitched yelp left your throat and your eyes screwed shut.

"Use your fucking words, Angel. You know better than to break the rules," he said through clenched teeth and your eyes opened again to meet his. Your breathing was a bit quicker and shakier than before as you opened your mouth to give him a proper response.

"Y-yes ma'am, I- I'll be good. I promise." you whimpered softly and a low guttural groan was ripped from his chest at the way you'd called him ma'am, the name making his cock twitch underneath your still hovering and dripping heat. Your hole acts like a faucet with a never-ending flow of your arousal in response to the pretty man behind you.

"You're gonna let me split you open on this pretty cock that you go dumb for and while I wreck you, you're gonna watch everything. You aren't allowed to look away or keep your eyes shut or there will be consequences. Understood?" his hands landed on your hips again as he awaited your consent. His words were a demand but if you genuinely didn't consent to this demand for any reason at all, then that would be the end of it.

"Please Mommy, I- I need you inside of me... n-need to be so f- ah!" when he slammed your hips down, stretching you open on his cock with so much force it felt like your ass would be bruised, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

A growl erupted from his chest at the feeling of your silky walls wrapping around his length, clenching around his sensitive cock, and sucking him in further than he imagined possible. Considering you were sitting fully down on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt and his pelvis now drenched in your liquids. The feeling caused his eyes to threaten to roll into the back of his head, no matter how many times he felt you around him, he could never get used to just how good you felt.

"Feel that? Can you feel Mommy's cock carving out that sweet hole of yours? hmm? This hole belongs to me, it's fucking molded to the shape of my cock. All. Fucking. Mine." His final words were met with punctuation between them in the form of him lifting you momentarily before slamming you back down onto himself with an unrelenting force.

"All- fuck! all yours- ngghh- mommy. I'm mommy's- Oh my god! Mommy's t-toy..." you're words mixed with loud moans, sure the entire neighborhood could hear just how amazing your boyfriend was making you feel and surely 3racha's headphones probably weren't canceling enough noise as you were practically screaming for the man who was truly using you like a Fleshlight.

Your eyes never left the mirror and you could see Hyunjin was struggling to thrust into you in this position. You wanted to ask him if he wanted to adjust but you were trying so hard to catch your breath that you couldn't speak. Each harsh snap of his hips was met with him slamming you down to meet his thrusts, knocking the wind out of your lungs each time.

As if he could read your mind, he used his grip on your hips to lift you up till only half of his cock was buried inside of you and held you still. He leaned back and planted one hand on the mattress behind him to hold himself up and the other arm wrapped tightly around your waist as he pulled you back a bit to be supported against his chest.

"Knees up and put your feet flat on the mattress baby." you obeyed his damn and got into a squatting position, making sure to keep his cock from slipping out of you as you adjusted. In the new position you could see a small bulge in your lower abdomen under where his arm had locked you to his chest, his cock pressed so deeply inside of you that you could see him inside you.

"Would you look at that~" he cooed as he admired the bulge in the mirror, moving his hand so his fingers rested softly on top of it and he rolled his hips just a bit so he could see and feel his cock moving inside of you and filling you up. A growl left him and his eyes fluttered blissfully at the filth of what was happening.

"Just look at how Mommy's cock carves out your insides with her cock, so fucking perfect for me baby." he cooed, the flip between degrading you and praising you was making you feel a bit dizzy in the best way. He felt you clench around him and your juices flooding his cock in response to it all and he couldn't hold back anymore.

The new position allowed him to thrust up into you at a brutal pace, his tip slamming into that sweet spot inside of you repeatedly and abusing it. Wanton moans and whines were punched out of you with every slam of his cock, mixing with strings of curses and his name. His own animalistic groans and growls along with some more high-pitched whines and whimpers from him filled the room.

"F-fuck.. mommy that's so- ah! so g-good. L-look so good f-filling me up" Your eyes were fighting to roll back into your head as your brain started turning into mush with how incredible you felt and that familiar knot was forming again deep in your lower abdomen.

"That's my perfect slut, such a pretty fucking cum-dump. Want Mommy to fill you up hmm? Wan' mommy to pump you full of her babies? Breed you like the dumb pup you are?" his words came out a bit frantic as his cock was twitching desperately inside of you, his own impending release not far away.

"Please! fuck! wan' mommy's cum! please please please fill me up, I've been good!" you begged him, your words slurring together as you felt yourself close to going completely brain-dead on his cock. His release didn't take long after hearing you screaming and begging for him, his hips snapping into you one last time and pulling you down fully. You felt his white-hot ropes filling you up and your own orgasm ripping through you, squirting all over the reflective surface of the mirror and your eyes finally rolled back into your skull.

You arched hard against Hyunjin's chest as you came and your head rolled back against his shoulder and his grip remained tight around your waist. Using his arm to rock you on his cock to work both of you through the aftershocks of one of the most mind-blowing orgasms you'd both ever felt, both your chests heaving desperately to fill your lungs with oxygen again.

You stayed like that for a few moments, your walls naturally fluttering around the cock still buried deep inside of you and pushing him to overstimulation. Letting out a hiss in response, he lifted you off his cock to lay you down on the plush mattress next to him. A whine leaves your trembling frame at the empty feeling, the noise earning a coo from your boyfriend and he lets his hair down from the bun before allowing himself to collapse back onto the bed again, next to you.

The both of you cuddled for a while, still sticky with sweat and Hyunjin's cum leaking out of you but you were too tired to care. He recovered a lot faster than you, noticing the puddle forming under you that was made of both his and your releases. He placed a lingering kiss on your temple and climbed out of the bed to grab a wet washcloth from the bathroom, returning to get you as clean as he could knowing you were battling sleep and unable to take a shower. It'd just have to wait until the morning.

He left your side again, placing the rag in the hamper before moving to your wardrobe. He slipped on some boxers and a pair of light grey sweats to sleep in and grabbed you a new pair of underwear and one of his oversized tee shirts for you to sleep in. He carefully got your almost asleep form dressed and climbed into the bed, avoiding the wet spot left over from his cum he'd cleaned up, and pulled you close to his body.

You fell asleep almost instantly when you felt his body wrap around yours. It didn't take long for him to fall asleep as well, soft smile on both of your faces.

You both woke up the next morning, entering the living area of the dorms to be met with a grumpy-looking 3racha.

"Really? Did you really have to fuck until damn near 4 in the fucking morning?" Chan groaned out.

"Seriously, we can't sleep with those bulky ass headphones which we could still slightly hear your screaming through with the volume turned up all the way." Changbin retorted.

"The last, and I mean the LAST thing I needed to hear so early in the morning is Hyunjin Hyung being called Mommy over and over again." Jisung finished off and he shivered dramatically and all three of them started fake gagging. A deep red blush painted your cheeks as you tried to shrink and hide your face in your hands with a groan. Hyunjin's cockiness never left him and he let out a laugh, making his way to the kitchen for breakfast. You trailed close behind him in shame, head still low as you looked through the gaps in your finger to watch where you were going.

Neither of you would be able to live this one down but it was completely worth it. You knew you'd get to fuck Auntie Hyunjin again and that alone was enough to make up for the embarrassment and teasing you'd be putting up with for the next few weeks.

April Diaries Pt.3: Stray Kids

Based of sketches I saw on Pinterest.

I love this photo, these two so cute together ❤️❤️❤️

Hyunjin and Hueningkai 😍😍 @itshueningkai

Hwang Hyunjin X Huening Kai Fansign cr: @itshueningkai posted @alexiaoliveira 👈

My favorite and mixed ships ♥️♥️ @alexialuzia 👈 cr: alexiaoliveira PicsArt

warning for spiders!

I was watching some videos on spiders and I just think they are very cool with all the amazing things they can do :0!

Inspired me to make hyunlix into a lil spider pair based on the maniac era. Just a lil sketch nothing too serious :)

hey! can i request you and ot8 skz kissing in front of the other members?

Hey Anon! Thank you so much for this very sweet request! It was so much fun to write it, and I hope I delivered well! You're more than welcome to make more requests if you wish to 🫶── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

────* ˚ ✦ CAUGHT IN THE ACT (HYUNG LINE | MAKNAE LINE)

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 15.6K

hey Green, i’ve just come from the Lee Know one shot you wrote and i’ve already read some of your other works and i’m in love! i see you also write smut so i was wondering if you could write something with Hyunjin? tbh i was thinking of something like it’s the first time he and the reader (fem!) make love, not like losing their virginity or anything. they’re both adults but they’ve been dating for a bit and feel ready for this next part? maybe add a bit of awkwardness to add a bit of realism to it?

if not, totally okay! i just love your writing!

also, a little side note..can i be 🌪️ anon? is that weird? i’m sorry!

Hello 🌪️! I’m so sorry it took me so long to get to this but I hope you enjoy it! This took me a while to complete purely because I couldn’t figure out the pacing of it, but I’m finally satisfied with it and I hope you’ll be as well! This was genuinely such a fun request, though, and I feel like a lot of people don't really talk about how lowkey awkward it can be when you're having sex with someone for the first time — regardless of whether either of you are virgins or not, and also regardless of how much chemistry you have with them! Sex doesn't follow a specific guide that everyone enjoys, so it can sometimes take a little bit of trial and error until you figure out what your partner likes and what they don't. We also should always consider the anxiety that a lot of people experience right before as well as during, which can often mess up their performance, which is totally okay!

Anyway, sorry for the mini-rant, I just feel like these are things that should be normalized! Especially when it comes to writing since a lot of these (wonderful, might I add) authors glorify the idea of first time you have sex with your partner goes absolutely perfect. It doesn't mean that it never happens, but it's important to also know this. Okay, seriously, moving on — thank you for your support! <3

Please feel free to send me other requests or asks and I promise I'll try to do better about responding! Again, sorry it took me so long! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 🌧️

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 4.5k

🌧️ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍-𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ On a rainy evening, a deepening connection unfolds between you and Hyunjin as you explore your newfound intimacy in the cozy sanctuary of your studio apartment. Amidst clumsy yet heartfelt moments, your bond blossoms into a magical dance of tenderness and desire, celebrated under the gentle rhythm of the falling rain.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4.5k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 18 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested a little bit ago by my lovely 🌪️ Anon! I genuinely loved working on this purely for the awkwardness between Y/N and Hyunjin. I just feel like this is something that is not talked about enough, especially within the writing community. It's completely normal to be a bit clumsy and/or awkward the first time you have sex with someone — it doesn't mean that you or your partner is a virgin or is bad at it! Everyone's tastes when it comes to this is different so it might take a second to figure your partner out! And that's totally okay! Alright, anyway, requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, established relationship, it's first time Hyunjin fingers you, neither of you are virgins, it's awkward and a little clumsy at the beginning, very fluffy, please let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

It had been a Saturday to remember, one that etched itself into the tapestry of your memories, marked by the presence of Hyunjin. His charismatic charm had woven itself through your days for the past month, casting a spell of enchantment that lingered in the air. Though the span of time you had spent together might appear fleeting in the grand scheme of things, it felt as if you had experienced an entire lifetime’s worth of moments within those precious weeks.

Each shared glance carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words, creating a silent dialogue that only the two of you understood. Every burst of laughter echoed like a melody, resonating with joy and warmth that filled the spaces between you. The conversations you shared, whether deep and contemplative or light and whimsical, wove a rich tapestry of connection that seemed to transcend the mere passage of days.

It was as though time itself had bent and stretched to accommodate the depth of your interactions. The moments you spent together, whether walking hand in hand through sun-dappled streets or sharing quiet, emotionally intimate evenings under a canopy of stars, left you with the impression that you had journeyed through countless experiences together in just a short while. The intensity of your bond created a sense of timelessness, making each day feel like a chapter in a beautifully unfolding story.

The day dawned under the crisp, invigorating light of morning, painting the world in hues of possibility. Hyunjin stood eagerly by your front door, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and a smile that promised adventure. The air was charged with the excitement of a day uncharted, a journey waiting to unfold as you both boarded the train bound for the newly opened museum.

As the train carried you toward your destination, a sense of exhilaration grew, mingling with the rhythmic clatter of the tracks. The cityscape blurred past, a fleeting backdrop to the conversation and laughter that filled the space between you. Upon arrival, the museum revealed itself as a grand sanctuary of artistry and history, its towering facade inviting you into a world where time seemed to stand still.

Stepping inside, you were enveloped by the cool, hushed atmosphere of the museum, a place where every corner promised discovery. The labyrinthine halls stretched out before you, each exhibit unfolding like a new chapter in your shared journey. Vibrant paintings, intricate sculptures, and ancient artifacts beckoned you closer, igniting lively discussions and thoughtful reflections. With every step, you meandered through galleries side by side, your connection deepening as you shared insights and marvels.

The experience felt timeless, an effortless immersion into a realm of creativity and wonder. You lost yourselves in the stories etched into each piece, the artistry that transcended the mundane and spoke directly to your souls. The hours slipped by unnoticed, each moment adding a brushstroke to the canvas of your day, painting a picture of shared exploration and discovery. In that museum, amidst the echoes of history and the whispers of creativity, you found not only a deeper understanding of the world but also of each other.

After immersing yourselves in the museum's artistic treasures, you both boarded the train once more, the thrill of the day still crackling in the air between you. The rhythmic clatter of the tracks beneath you seemed to echo the excitement of the adventure that awaited. Your destination was your favorite restaurant, a cherished haven where comfort and familiarity wove seamlessly into the fabric of its ambiance.

Upon arrival, the restaurant greeted you with its warm, inviting glow. Soft light spilled from hanging fixtures, casting a gentle radiance over the rustic wooden tables and cushioned chairs. The scent of savory dishes wafted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee and baked bread. As you settled into your seats, the meal became more than just sustenance; it transformed into a canvas for laughter and playful banter.

Each dish that arrived at your table seemed to serve as a catalyst for shared stories and inside jokes. The vibrant colors of the food mirrored the lively exchange between you, as conversations flowed effortlessly alongside bites of deliciously crafted dishes. The restaurant’s lively bustle provided a vibrant backdrop, its hum of chatter and clinking of cutlery blending into the symphony of your shared experience.

The meal, rich with flavor and affection, was more than a mere dining experience; it was an extension of the day's joy and companionship. With each course, you both found yourselves drawn closer, the savory dishes a tangible reflection of the deepening bond between you. As you enjoyed each bite, the connection you had forged earlier in the museum seemed to be solidified, the warmth of the food and the ambiance merging to create a perfect continuation of the day's adventures.

Adjacent to the restaurant stood a quaint psychic shop, its sign casting a gentle, ethereal glow that beckoned with an almost magnetic allure. The delicate, swirling script on the sign seemed to whisper promises of mysteries and hidden truths, igniting a spark of curiosity within both of you. Driven by a shared sense of adventure and intrigue, you decided to venture inside, stepping into a world that seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

The interior of the shop was a treasure trove of curiosities. Dimly lit by the soft flicker of candlelight, the space was adorned with richly embroidered tapestries and shelves brimming with intriguing artifacts. The air was tinged with the heady fragrance of incense, mingling with the faint aroma of old parchment and aromatic herbs. In the center of this enigmatic realm sat the psychic, her presence as compelling as the surroundings.

Her gaze was shrouded in an enigmatic aura as she performed the reading, her eyes glimmering with an inscrutable wisdom. As she declared with a knowing smile that you and Hyunjin were soulmates, her words seemed to reverberate with an almost palpable magic. The statement hung in the air like a delicate thread, weaving itself into the fabric of your shared experience.

The psychic’s cryptic smile was met with a blend of surprise and shyness on your faces. A soft blush crept across both your cheeks, accentuating the nervous laughter that bubbled up between you. Each of you cast furtive glances away, caught between a fluttering sense of embarrassment and an exhilarating hint of delight. The moment felt like a secret dance, a playful intimacy that hung between you, adding a layer of enchantment to the day. The encounter at the psychic shop became a cherished memory, a touch of magic that lingered like a sweet aftertaste, enriching the tapestry of your shared adventure.

As the evening unfurled, you both returned to the serene sanctuary of your cozy studio apartment. The tranquility of the space embraced you like a warm hug, with the soft, rhythmic purring of your cat—curled contentedly on the nightstand—embodying the essence of home’s simple pleasures. The room was gently illuminated by the soft, golden glow of the lamp, casting a soothing radiance that seemed to enhance the peaceful ambiance.

In this haven of calm, you set about preparing warm tea for both of you. The aroma of the brewing tea leaves mingled with the subtle scent of the evening, creating an olfactory embrace that complemented the warmth of the space. As you poured the steaming liquid into delicate cups, the gentle clinking of porcelain was a soft, melodious counterpoint to the quietude surrounding you.

The conversation that followed was a tender and intimate exchange, your voices barely rising above hushed whispers as you both savored the serene atmosphere of the moment. Each word shared was like a caress, adding to the richness of your connection. Cradling your tea cups in your hands, you both reveled in a profound sense of contentment, the day’s adventures seamlessly blending into the gentle comfort of your shared refuge.

The evening unfolded as a quiet yet significant culmination of laughter, connection, and deepening bonds. The day’s escapades, full of vivid experiences and cherished moments, seemed to melt into the soft, welcoming embrace of your studio. This tranquil conclusion transformed the day into a cherished memory, a treasured chapter that would linger tenderly in your hearts.

As the night wore on, the rain began to fall in a steady, soothing rhythm, each droplet creating a symphony of tranquility against the windows. The gentle patter of the rain became a serene backdrop to the evening's unfolding events, wrapping your world in a cocoon of calm. Within the comforting familiarity of your bedroom, the atmosphere was imbued with a sense of warmth and intimacy.

You extended an invitation to Hyunjin, offering him a place beside you on the bed, a gesture that had become second nature over the short time you’ve been together. Yet tonight carried a different energy, a palpable shift that neither of you could ignore—evident in the way Hyunjin’s heavy eyes followed your every move. The ambiance was charged with an emerging affection, an electric undercurrent that seemed to hum softly in the space between you.

Each fleeting glance you shared was laden with unspoken emotions, eyes conveying what words could not. The subtle brush of skin against skin felt like sparks igniting a fire, each touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. Your quiet conversations, spoken in hushed tones, wove a delicate tapestry of words and sentiments, each one deepening the connection you felt.

In the stillness of your home, every moment seemed to heighten the sense of anticipation. The rain's gentle cadence matched the rhythm of your hearts, beating in sync as if to the same unspoken melody. The space between you felt charged, a magnetic pull drawing you closer to a deeper intimacy that was steadily approaching, its arrival inevitable and eagerly awaited.

The night continued to unfold in this gentle yet intense dance of emotions, the rain outside acting as a serenade to your evolving bond while you prepared your bed for the night. Each moment spent together was a testament to the growing affection that had blossomed between you, transforming the ordinary into something exquisitely profound. In that cozy sanctuary, under the spell of the night and the rain, you both felt the irresistible pull toward a connection that promised to be as enduring as the rhythmic rain itself.

The tension between you both thickened as you handed him a t-shirt he had intentionally left behind during a previous visit. The fabric of the shirt, worn soft and familiar, passed from your hands to his with a weight that seemed to carry unspoken significance. As soon as he grasped the shirt, a spark of unspoken urgency ignited between you. His lips met yours with a fervor that had been quietly simmering throughout the day, an electric connection that surged with the intensity of all the emotions you had harbored.

The kiss was a profound mingling of longing and desire, a tangible culmination of the feelings that had been building in the quiet spaces between you. It was as if the very essence of the day’s shared moments converged in this single, impassioned exchange. 

Even amidst this deep connection, an endearing awkwardness lingered in the air. As you both clumsily undressed each other, your movements were hesitant and unpracticed, yet brimming with sincerity. Nervous laughter bubbled up between you, a symphony of shared amusement that softened the intensity of the moment. Your hands fumbled gently, each touch a mix of tender care and uncoordinated eagerness, creating a dance of intimacy that was both innocent and heartfelt.

Your gaze remained locked on his dazed eyes, the unspoken emotions between you speaking volumes. Every brush of your fingers, every accidental graze, was charged with a sense of wonder and discovery. The garments fell away piece by piece, leaving you both in only your underwear, vulnerable and exposed yet completely at ease in each other's presence.

The path to the bed was a journey marked by stumbles and shared glances. Each step was a testament to the raw and unrefined nature of your intimacy, a beautiful reminder of the genuine connection you were forging. The nervous energy between you added a layer of charm to the moment, making each interaction feel even more precious.

As you finally reached the bed, the clumsy yet heartfelt nature of your movements only served to deepen the bond you were creating. The tender moments of hesitation and the bursts of laughter wove together, forming a tapestry of intimacy that was uniquely your own. In the gentle embrace of the night, surrounded by the quiet rhythm of your shared breaths, you both discovered a profound sense of closeness that transcended the physical, creating a memory that would linger long after the night had ended.

This clumsy yet heartfelt interaction only added to the night's charm, weaving an intricate tapestry of shared experience. Every hesitant touch, each nervous laugh, became a delicate thread, binding you closer together. As he settled between your legs, the intimacy of the moment deepened, turning every interaction into a genuine and endearing part of your growing bond.

A breathy moan escapes your lips as Hyunjin's kisses trace a delicate path along your jaw, each touch igniting a spark of electricity. When he reaches the sensitive spot just below your ear, a shiver runs through you, heightening your senses. This reaction seemed to bolster his confidence, and with gentle yet assertive hands, he guided you to lay back on the bed.

As you sink into the soft embrace of the mattress, his mouth works its magic, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. Each kiss, each caress is a jolt of pure electricity, making your heart race and your breath hitch. The intensity of his touch leaves you yearning for more, each moment an exquisite blend of anticipation and ecstasy.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, craving the warmth and intimacy of his presence. As he continues his descent, his mouth finds your hardened nipples, drawing a gasp from your lips. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect symphony of pleasure that leaves you arching your back, pressing yourself against him.

In this intimate dance, every movement feels deliberate and profound, each touch a testament to the deep connection you share. The room around you fades into obscurity, leaving only the two of you in a world of your own creation, where time stands still and nothing exists except the intoxicating rhythm of your bodies entwined.

His kisses, like whispers of fire, trail across your skin, igniting every nerve ending with a burning desire. The magic of his mouth, the gentle yet insistent way he explores your body, leaves you trembling with need. Every breathy moan, every gasp of pleasure, becomes a part of this beautiful symphony, resonating in the quiet sanctuary of your shared space.

Your hands find the courage to wander, fingers trembling with anticipation as they begin their exploration. Every touch is an act of reverence, a slow and deliberate journey to memorize the curves and contours of his lean body. The warmth of his skin under your fingertips sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you.

As your hands glide over his torso, you savor the feeling of his defined muscles, each movement a tactile symphony. Your fingertips dance over his chest, tracing the lines of his pecs before drifting down to his abs. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath beneath your touch is mesmerizing, drawing you deeper into the intimate connection you share.

When your hands finally reach his abs, you slow your pace, allowing yourself to fully appreciate the sculpted firmness beneath your palms. The tension in his muscles, the way they contract and relax with each breath, is a testament to his strength and beauty. Your touch becomes more deliberate, a silent communication of desire and admiration.

As you move lower, your fingers find his hardened core, and a breathy groan escapes his lips. The sound is intoxicating, a blend of need and pleasure that fuels your own arousal. He pushes his hips into your hand eagerly, a wordless plea for more, and you can't help but chuckle lightly at his neediness. There's something incredibly endearing about the way he responds to your touch, a vulnerability that makes him even more irresistible.

His groan resonates in the quiet room, mingling with the rhythm of your shared breaths. The intensity of his reaction sends a thrill through you, a heady mix of power and tenderness. As your hand continues to caress him, you revel in the connection between you, the unspoken language of touch and desire that binds you together.

The moment stretches into eternity, every touch, every sound, deepening the bond you share. The intimacy of your exploration, the way your hands map the landscape of his body, becomes a testament to the growing love between you. In this private sanctuary, you find a profound sense of fulfillment, a beautiful merging of souls that transcends the physical and touches the very essence of your being.

“I’m sorry, I’ve been waiting for so long to have this moment with you,” Hyunjin murmurs, his voice a soft whisper against the backdrop of your shared breath. His words hang in the air, delicate and poignant, carrying the weight of anticipation and longing. You can see the depth of his emotions reflected in his eyes, a swirling sea of vulnerability and desire that makes your heart ache with a tender ache. The sincerity in his voice, the quiet urgency, speaks volumes about the unspoken yearning that has built up between you.

His words touched you deeply, a wave of emotion washing over you as you absorbed the sincerity in his voice. With a soft, reassuring smile, your hands left his already leaking length, the warmth of his arousal lingering on your fingertips. You reached up, fingers threading through his long, silken hair, feeling its softness and reveling in the intimacy of the gesture.

"Don’t ever apologize, Hyune," you whispered, your voice filled with affection and reassurance. "You’re being wonderful."

Your fingers continued their gentle journey through his hair, each stroke a tender caress that seemed to convey all the emotions you felt. His hair, smooth and luxurious, slipped through your fingers like strands of midnight silk, and you marveled at the way it framed his face, accentuating the depth of his eyes and the curve of his lips.

The two of you lingered in a realm of shared kisses, each one deepening the connection that pulsed between you. What began as gentle explorations quickly evolved into a deliciously messy entanglement of lips and tongues, leaving both of you breathless. Droplets of shared saliva glistened on your mouths, a testament to the fervor with which you embraced each other. Every time your needy cores met, grinding against the thin barrier of fabric that still separated you, a gasp escaped your lips, mingling with his in a symphony of desire.

The friction, though clothed, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited, a mere glimpse of the pleasure that loomed on the horizon. Each grind, each press of your bodies, sent waves of adrenaline coursing through your veins at an intoxicating speed. It was an addictive rush, leaving you craving more—more of him, more of the sensations that set your skin aflame and made your heart race.

Time seemed to blur, the minutes stretching into an eternity of heated kisses and desperate touches. Your hands roamed freely, memorizing the contours of his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, and committing every inch of him to memory. The room was filled with the sounds of your shared passion—breathy moans, whispered names, and the rhythmic beat of two hearts caught in the throes of desire.

It wasn't long before the intensity of your need became almost unbearable. A soft, desperate whine escaped your lips, a sound that conveyed your longing and frustration. You could feel the slickness between your thighs, a testament to how thoroughly he had aroused you. Your body ached with a deep, insistent need, practically begging him for more.

"Please," you whispered, your voice a soft plea as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. The word hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your desire, and you looked up at him with wide, imploring eyes.

Hyunjin's gaze darkened with a mixture of lust and affection, his breath hitching at the sight of you so vulnerable, so open. He leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands moving to cup your face with a tenderness that made your heart swell. The kiss was both a promise and a reassurance, a silent vow that he would give you everything you craved.

As he pulled back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine. "Anything for you," he murmured, his voice a husky whisper that resonated deep within your core.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his hands slid down your body, his touch igniting a trail of fire along your skin. The anticipation built with every second, your senses heightened to a fever pitch. Each brush of his fingers, each lingering touch, was a tantalizing prelude to the ecstasy that awaited. You arched into his touch, your body responding instinctively to the promise of pleasure.

His fingers danced tantalizingly close to your drenched core, skimming over the slick heat but avoiding the sensitive places where you needed him most. The tease was exquisite yet maddening, each near-touch sending shivers of both pleasure and frustration through your body. You could feel the dampness of sweat on your skin, mingling with the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

Mildly frustrated, a soft whimper escaped your lips as you reached down between your intertwined bodies. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist, guiding his hand to where you craved his touch. The movement was driven by a mix of urgency and desperation, a silent plea for him to end the sweet torture.

He chuckled lightly at your eagerness, the sound a blend of amusement and affection that reverberated through your chest. The gentle tease in his voice only heightened your desire, making you acutely aware of how much you wanted—needed—him. Despite his amusement, he didn't leave you waiting for long.

His thumb found your clit, the touch electric and precise, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. A gasp left your lips, the sensation intense and immediate. Without warning, his index finger slipped inside you, filling you completely. The sudden intrusion made you yelp in surprise, your body arching into his touch as a wave of heat surged through you.

He quickly glanced up, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and passion. The thrusts into your core halted, yet he kept his fingers buried deep inside, the sensation still pulsing through you. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, his voice a husky whisper that mingled with the heavy breaths filling the room.

You licked your lips, a slow and deliberate motion, trying to gather your composure amidst the swirling intensity. Your chest rose and fell with each pant, the air thick with anticipation and desire. You nodded, the movement gentle but assured, your body trembling slightly as you held back the urge to grind into his hand. "Yes... just please go slow when you're down there," you whispered, your voice tinged with a blend of need and vulnerability.

His eyes softened at your words, a tender smile curling at the corners of his lips. The connection between you felt almost palpable, a silent understanding that spoke volumes. He nodded in response, his fingers beginning to move once more, but this time with a deliberate slowness that made every touch more intense.

Each movement was a study in restraint, his fingers exploring you with a gentleness that contrasted with the earlier urgency. The deliberate pace allowed you to savor every sensation, the pleasure building in slow, delicious waves. Your body responded instinctively, a soft moan escaping your lips as you felt him delve deeper.

He watched you closely, his gaze unwavering, the concern in his eyes gradually giving way to a renewed desire. The intimacy of the moment wrapped around you both, a cocoon of shared trust and passion. His other hand found its way to your hip, holding you steady as he continued his slow, measured rhythm.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, the earlier frenzy giving way to a tender, almost reverent exploration. Your breaths synchronize, each inhale and exhale a testament to the deep connection that had formed between you. His fingers curled inside you, finding that sweet spot that sent shivers down your spine, drawing out gasps and sighs of pleasure.

As he moved, his thumb brushed against your clit with a featherlight touch, sending sparks of electricity through your entire being. The slow pace allowed the pleasure to build gradually, each wave cresting higher than the last. Your hands reached out, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations.

He responded to your touch, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was both tender and intense. The world seemed to narrow down to the two of you, every sensation magnified in the cocoon of intimacy you had created. The taste of him, the feel of his fingers, the sound of your mingled breaths—it all wove together into a symphony of pleasure.

You could feel the tension building within you once more, a slow burn that promised an explosive release. The deliberate pace made every touch, every caress, more poignant, the anticipation heightening your arousal. Your body arched into his touch, a silent plea for more, for everything he could give.

His fingers moved with a steady, unerring rhythm, guiding you towards the edge with a skill that made your heart race. The slow, deliberate thrusts were interspersed with gentle caresses, the combination driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Your moans grew louder, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity.

And then, with a final, deliberate thrust, the tension within you snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in a tidal wave, your body trembling as the orgasm tore through you. You cried out his name, the sound echoing in the small space, your vision blurring as the world dissolved into pure sensation.

He held you through it all, his fingers still moving gently, prolonging the waves of pleasure. The aftershocks rippled through you, leaving you breathless and sated. As the intensity faded, you clung to him, your body still humming with the remnants of ecstasy.

In the aftermath, the room was filled with a quiet, almost sacred, stillness. You looked up at him, your heart full of gratitude and love, knowing that this moment was one of many that you would cherish. The night was a tapestry of shared passion and deep connection, a journey that had only just begun.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

can i request a fwb with hyunjin x male reader? love your stuff 💕💕💕

Hey babe! Your request has been posted! Thank you so much for the support, it was so fun to write! Also, a little side-note: this piece contains agoraphilia, which was not a part of the initial request, but I hope you don't mind it! If you do, please feel free to send me another request and I'll try again! ── ( 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 )

🍿 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 🍿

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ) ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ) 3.2k

🍿 𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 ( stray kids )

❛ In the hushed shadows of an empty cinema, you and Hyunjin find yourselves doing anything except watch the film.

𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧 + male reader ೯ ( 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 )

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.2k 𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞: 12 mins

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This piece was requested by a lovely Anon! It was especially fun to explore the agoraphilia kink and it might or might not have awakened something in me, sorry not sorry. Requests are currently open! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: MDNI, FWB trope, agoraphilia (the kink related to having sex in a public space), handjob, blowjob, let me know if I missed anything!

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

The large screen cast a solitary glow in the otherwise dark and empty cinema room, its flickering light the only beacon amidst the shadows. The film, having premiered only a week ago, played out its animated scenes, but your attention was never captured by the vibrant characters or the lively plot. It was the heart of the week, the sun hanging high in the sky outside, and the cinema was hushed in a midday silence. The movie, a colorful tapestry of whimsy designed for children's delight, had been carefully selected by Hyunjin as part of a deliberate plan.

He knew that a matinee showing of a children's film would ensure privacy, a quiet refuge from the bustling world outside. The choice spoke volumes of his thoughtfulness, a gesture meant to cocoon you both in a rare moment of undisturbed togetherness. The dim ambiance and the occasional laughter from the screen seemed distant, like echoes in a cavern, as the true magic unfolded in the space between your entwined fingers and shared, whispered words.

His hand rested with a gentle weight on your upper thigh, a touch that felt both grounding and electric. Though his gaze appeared firmly fixed on the screen ahead, you could sense the unspoken intentions behind his seemingly casual posture. His fingers, warm and slightly calloused, felt like they were weaving a spell of anticipation and desire.

Your breath caught in your throat as you felt him inch just a fraction closer to your already eager core, a subtle yet powerful movement that sent ripples of longing through your body. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the flickering light from the screen casting playful shadows across his face. His smirk, a tantalizing curve at the corners of his lips, told you he was fully aware of the effect he had on you. It was a dance of silent communication, a game of tension and teasing that left you breathless and wanting more.

The room seemed to shrink, the outside world fading into oblivion as every fiber of your being focused on the closeness of his touch and the promise of what it held. The distant sounds of the film became a mere backdrop to the intimate symphony of your shared moment, each second stretched out, dripping with delicious anticipation. His smirk deepened as he felt your reaction, a silent victory that only fueled the fire between you both.

It wasn’t long before Hyunjin’s hand found its way to the apex of your thighs, pressing firmly against your clothed core. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, and suddenly breathing felt like a conscious effort rather than a natural reflex. Each inhalation was shallow, your chest rising and falling in a rhythm dictated by his tantalizing touch.

Your hands clung to the armrests of your seat, knuckles white with the force of your grip, as your body involuntarily arched and buckled against his hand. The need for more, for deeper contact, pulsed through you, a throbbing ache that begged for release. Hyunjin, sensing your desperation, was unreserved in his approach, his fingers moving with practiced skill as they massaged your length through the fabric of your jeans.

The roughness of the denim contrasted deliciously with the tenderness of his caress, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, a fire stoked by his every motion. From the corner of your eye, you glimpsed the outline of his own arousal, straining against the confines of his pants. The sight sent a jolt of satisfaction through you, feeding your ego and heightening the intensity of the moment.

In the dim, secluded theater, with only the flickering light of the screen to witness your secret encounter, the world outside ceased to exist. Each touch, each whisper of movement, was magnified in the hushed silence. Hyunjin’s breath, warm and shallow, mingled with yours, creating a private symphony of shared desire. His eyes, dark and intense, flickered with a mix of mischief and ardor, reflecting the storm of emotions that raged within you both.

There was never any kissing between the two of you, no trace of affection mingled with the deeply intimate actions that had become your shared ritual. Lips never met in tender embrace, and there were no soft whispers of endearment. Instead, the connection you forged was raw and elemental, stripped of the frills of romance. Behind closed doors and within the shadows of dimly lit rooms, you found a thrilling liberation in the mutual use of each other’s bodies. Each encounter was a secret symphony of touch and sensation, free from the constraints of emotional entanglement.

The exhilaration of this clandestine arrangement was a heady intoxication, a rush of adrenaline that coursed through your veins each and every time. The absence of romantic gestures and the lack of emotional responsibility created a unique and intoxicating blend of freedom and anticipation. You both existed in a world where the only currency was the explicit pleasure you pursued together, a hedonistic exchange that left no room for the complexities of caring beyond the immediate moment.

This arrangement, devoid of conventional intimacy, was pure bliss—a potent addiction that occupied your thoughts through every waking moment. The craving for these encounters became an ever-present undercurrent in your daily life, a hunger that only grew stronger with each rendezvous. The physical connection, unburdened by the expectations of love or the weight of emotional commitment, was a sanctuary of sorts, a place where you could lose yourselves in the primal joy of unrestrained passion.

Each touch, each breathless moment, was a testament to the unique bond you shared—one that thrived in the dark, away from the scrutinizing eyes of the world. The thrill of secrecy, the raw, unfiltered pleasure, was an addiction that neither of you could resist. It was a dance of shadows and light, a tantalizing game that blurred the lines between reality and desire, leaving you both perpetually yearning for the next encounter.

Growing weary of the languid touches that teased more than satisfied, you decided to seize control from Hyunjin. Your fingers, light and teasing, trailed a deliberate path up to his painfully hard arousal. The unexpected contact elicited a raw, unguarded moan from his plump lips, his eyes flashing with a mixture of surprise and irritation. Yet, his glare only made you chuckle softly, a sound that vibrated with quiet confidence and amusement.

Determined to unravel him with your touch, you felt a rising tide of desperation to see him surrender. Your movements became more purposeful, almost urgent, as you deftly tugged his pants and underwear down just enough to liberate his beautiful, aching member. The sight of him laid bare before you sent a thrill through your veins, your own need intensifying at the vision of his vulnerability.

Hyunjin sighed in relief, the tension momentarily ebbing away, only to be replaced by a darker, more intense gaze. His eyes, heavy with desire, watched as you surveyed the dimly lit cinema room, ensuring your clandestine encounter remained undisturbed. Satisfied that you were alone, you slowly sank to your knees between his legs, the anticipation of what was to come heightening the electricity in the air.

The dim glow of the screen cast ethereal shadows over your form, accentuating the intimate tableau you created together. Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent acknowledgment of your shared hunger and the shifting power dynamic. As you positioned yourself, the world outside the darkened room ceased to exist, leaving only the palpable tension and the promise of exquisite release.

His chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, each exhalation a testament to his struggle to maintain composure. Your hands, now steady and confident, moved with a precision born of intimate knowledge, eager to draw out every shiver and gasp. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered need, created a cocoon around you both, a sanctuary of desire where every touch, every glance, spoke volumes.

Hyunjin’s quiet moans filled the space, mingling with the distant sounds of the film, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed in the secluded darkness. Your control, your neediness, intertwined seamlessly, crafting a moment of pure, unadulterated passion that left both of you breathless and yearning for more.

Hyunjin was already leaking, a tantalizing sight that made your mouth water with anticipation. The glistening evidence of his arousal only spurred you on, your desire mounting with every passing second. You wrapped your fingers around his throbbing length, feeling the heat and the pulse beneath your touch. Slowly, deliberately, you began to stroke him, each movement measured to draw out his pleasure.

As your hand moved, Hyunjin’s reaction was immediate and intense. He threw his head back, his face a portrait of pure ecstasy. His mouth fell open, a silent cry of pleasure escaping his parted lips, and his eyes squeezed shut as waves of sensation washed over him. The sight of him, so undone by your touch, bolstered your confidence, fueling the fire of your own arousal.

With a surge of boldness, you finally took him into your mouth, the familiar taste and texture igniting a spark within you. You fought to suppress a moan, the urge to vocalize your pleasure nearly overwhelming. The sensation of him filling your mouth, the weight and warmth of him, was intoxicating. You reveled in the control, in the power you wielded over his pleasure.

Hyunjin’s response was visceral. He hissed through clenched teeth, his head snapping forward to watch you. His eyes, dark and intense, were filled with a mix of surprise and unrestrained desire. His brows furrowed, the tension etched across his features, but his jaw remained slack, a testament to his struggle to contain his sounds. The effort to maintain some semblance of control was evident, yet you could see him teetering on the edge, each moment threatening to push him over.

Your movements were slow, deliberate, savoring the taste of him and the way his body responded to your ministrations. The flickering light from the screen played across his face, highlighting the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way his lips trembled with every suppressed sound. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered connection, created a heady atmosphere that wrapped around you both.

Every subtle shift of his hips, every strangled breath, fed your own desire. The rhythm you established, the ebb and flow of pleasure, was a dance you both knew well. The darkened cinema room, the backdrop of the distant film, became a world unto itself, where the only reality was the shared ecstasy and the bond forged in the heat of passion.

With each stroke, each gentle suction, you brought him closer to the edge, the anticipation building between you. Hyunjin’s gaze never wavered, locked onto you with a mixture of awe and desperation. The connection, so deeply physical, was underscored by the unspoken understanding that this moment, this exchange of pleasure, was something sacred and profoundly intimate.

It was almost uncanny to experience Hyunjin’s unusual silence. You had grown so accustomed to the symphony of his voice, the way he filled intimate moments with his melodic praises and unrestrained moans. His words, often slurred by the intoxicating waves of pleasure, were a chorus of erotic melodies that resonated deep within you, igniting your own desires. The quiet now was both a stark contrast and a thrilling challenge, a testament to his struggle to maintain control.

Yet, even in his silence, the intensity of his need was unmistakable. His normally expressive self found new ways to convey his desperation, his fingers tangling in your hair with a grip that spoke volumes. The usually tender touch now firm and commanding, guiding your head in a rhythm that matched his urgent desires. The sensation of his fingers fisting your hair, each tug a silent plea for more, sent shivers down your spine.

Hyunjin’s hips began to move with a mind of their own, thrusting to meet the rhythm you established. Each upward motion synchronized with the downward movement of your mouth, creating a perfect harmony of motion and sensation. His normally vocal nature was replaced by a more physical expression of his need, every thrust a wordless cry of pleasure. The quiet, punctuated only by the sound of your movements and his ragged breaths, created an atmosphere thick with unspoken longing.

The flickering light from the screen danced across his face, highlighting the tautness of his jaw and the fire in his eyes. The restraint he showed, the effort to maintain some semblance of composure, made the moment even more electrifying. His usual clinginess, now intensified, was a physical manifestation of his pleasure, his body seeking yours with an almost desperate fervor.

As you moved together, the dance of your intimacy became a testament to your deep connection. Each motion, each shared breath, wove a tapestry of desire that wrapped around you both. The darkened cinema room, once a simple backdrop, now felt like a secret world where only the two of you existed, bound by the intensity of your shared experience.

Hyunjin’s control wavered with each passing second, the struggle evident in the way his body tensed and relaxed in quick succession. The quiet was a fragile thing, threatened by the rising tide of his pleasure. His eyes, dark and intense, locked onto yours, communicating volumes without a single word. The normally eloquent Hyunjin was now a creature of pure sensation, his need for you transcending language.

Every movement, every touch, was a symphony of silent communication, an intricate dance of desire and control. As you continued, the thrill of his intensified clinginess and the unusual quiet created a heady mix, a potent blend of intimacy that left you both breathless and yearning for more.

Your free hand moved to caress his balls, the delicate yet firm touch sending jolts of intensified pleasure through Hyunjin’s already electrified body. The effect was immediate and profound; his actions became increasingly erratic, a beautiful chaos of movement that reflected the storm of sensations you were conjuring within him. His face, a canvas of raw emotion, scrunched up gorgeously in response, each twitch and contortion a testament to the bliss you were eliciting.

As the tension mounted, he leaned forward, his need to be closer to you overwhelming his senses. His movements pushed your nose against his pelvis, the intimacy of the action driving both of you to new heights of arousal. You could feel his release building, a palpable tension that seemed to vibrate through his entire body.

When he finally reached the peak of his pleasure, you felt the hot, thick rush of his release spill down your throat. The sensation was overwhelming, filling your mouth to the point of gagging. The fullness was both a challenge and a thrill, a testament to the depth of your connection and the intensity of the moment. You struggled to breathe, the sheer volume of him making it difficult, but you relished every second of it.

Eventually, Hyunjin’s iron grip on you relaxed, his fingers loosening their hold on your hair. You pulled back, gasping for air, the sudden rush of oxygen a stark contrast to the suffocating fullness you’d just experienced. The cool air on your face and the lingering taste of him in your mouth created a heady mix of sensations that left you reeling.

Hyunjin’s gaze softened, the fierce intensity giving way to a tender vulnerability. His breaths came in ragged gasps, each one a testament to the overwhelming pleasure he’d just experienced. You could see the gratitude and the residual pleasure in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the profound connection you shared.

The dim light of the cinema cast gentle shadows across his face, highlighting the lingering flush of arousal on his cheeks. The room, once a simple setting, now felt like a sacred space where the boundaries between you had dissolved. Every detail, from the softness of his touch to the taste of his release, was etched into your memory, creating a moment that was both ephemeral and eternal.

As you both recovered, the world outside seemed distant and unimportant. The intimacy of the moment, the raw, unfiltered connection, had created a bubble of reality where only the two of you existed. The echoes of pleasure and the warmth of your shared experience lingered in the air, a promise of more moments like this to come.

Just like that, you returned to your seat, slipping back into the plush cushion as if nothing extraordinary had transpired. With a composed air, you swallowed the lingering evidence of your intimate adventure, the remnants of Hyunjin’s release settling deep within you. The calm facade you wore was a stark contrast to the storm of emotions that had just raged between you.

Beside you, Hyunjin was utterly spent, his chest rising and falling in an effort to catch his breath. His skin glistened faintly under the dim cinema lights, a sheen of sweat marking the intensity of your shared moment. His eyes, still glazed with the remnants of pleasure, never left your figure. The way you appeared so nonchalant, so composed, despite the passionate exchange that had just unfolded, captivated him.

Your core throbbed with a dull, insistent ache, a testament to the desire that still simmered within you. The anticipation of what was to come made it difficult to focus on anything else. You shifted slightly in your seat, the ache intensifying with every subtle movement, a constant reminder of the unfinished business between you.

Hyunjin’s gaze lingered on you, a silent promise of continued pleasure hanging in the air. The unspoken understanding that the fun was far from over added an electric tension to the room. The film continued to play, its plot a distant murmur, overshadowed by the anticipation of what awaited you both once the credits rolled.

As you both sat in the dim light, the world outside the cinema seemed to fade away. The mundane reality of your surroundings contrasted sharply with the charged intimacy you shared. The darkened room, filled with the flickering glow of the screen, became a private haven where your desires could roam free, undisturbed by the outside world.

Hyunjin’s fingers twitched slightly, a subtle indication of his renewed interest. The thought of continuing your escapade in the confines of the car sent a thrill through you, your body responding eagerly to the prospect. The anticipation built steadily, each passing moment bringing you closer to the next chapter of your passionate adventure.

The film’s soundtrack provided a background score to your thoughts, each swell of music mirroring the rising tension between you. Your composure remained intact, but beneath the surface, a tempest of desire brewed, ready to be unleashed once more. Hyunjin’s presence, his proximity, only added fuel to the fire, making the wait both torturous and deliciously exciting.

In that shared silence, the air thick with unsaid words and unmet needs, you both found solace. The bond forged in those stolen moments of pleasure was a testament to the depth of your connection. The promise of what was to come loomed large, a tantalizing prospect that kept you both on the edge, eagerly awaiting the privacy of the car where your desires could be fully realized.

꒰ 🏷️ ꒱ ミ Permanent taglist: @agi-ppangx @sunnyrisee @jisunglyricist (Click on the link to join! All you have to do is answer a few questions to help me stay organized!)

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE! DAILY CLICKS! STAYBLR FUNDRAISER!

Thank you!! This is such an incredible compliment ILYSM! 💕

𑁍ࠬܓ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ( stray kids )

❛ In which the members of Stray Kids navigate the world of fatherhood without you.

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐬 + female reader ೯ ( 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) 4.4k

꒰ 💌 ꒱ ミ This request was absolutely devastating to write, thank you! I hope you guys enjoy, reblogs and feedback are much appreciated! ── ( 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 )

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Y/N has passed away, each member is a single father still in love with you, mentions of grief, some of the kids fall under the LGBTQ+ community.

( 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 ) ( 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 & 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ) ( 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 ) ( 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 )

꒰ 🫙 ꒱ ミ Tip Jar!

방찬 ── BANG CHAN.

Chan's office was bathed in the soft, amber glow of the desk lamps, casting a warm yet somber light across the room. The gentle hum of the night time silence was broken only by the rhythmic, soothing breaths of his three-year-old daughter, who lay peacefully on the worn leather couch. Her tiny face, so serene in slumber, was a haunting mirror of your beautiful features, stirring a profound ache in Chan's heart.

As he watched her, tears began to silently trace their way down his cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of his sorrow and longing. He could still hear your final, trembling words: "Love her twice as much in my absence." The memory was a dagger, twisting with the relentless guilt and grief that had become his constant companions. The sight of his daughter's innocent face, so reminiscent of you, only deepened his anguish.

Today had been especially trying. Chan had promised his little girl a joyous outing to the park, a precious respite from his hectic work schedule. But the day took an unexpected turn when Changbin called in a panic, frantically searching for the nearly completed recording of their latest song. What Chan had hoped would be a swift resolution morphed into hours of desperate searching, only to end in the devastating realization that they would have to begin the recording anew.

All the while, his daughter’s patience wore thin. She had no toys, no distractions, just the suffocating boredom of waiting. Her disappointment was palpable, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any words could. Chan felt like he was failing her, failing in the promise he had made to you. Driven by the need to make amends, he gently woke his daughter. Her initial crankiness gave way to curiosity as he apologized for breaking his promise and proposed a sleepover at home. Movies, games, a fort, and endless cuddles — her eyes sparkled at the thought, and her frown dissolved into giggles.

At home, they transformed the living room into a magical fortress of pillows and blankets, a sanctuary just for them. They watched animated tales, played games, and reveled in the simple joy of being together. Wrapped in the cozy embrace of their fort, she eventually succumbed to sleep once more, nestled against him. Her hair, a tousled mess, and a small trail of drool on his shirt were endearing reminders of her tender age and boundless trust in him.

Chan held her close, his heart swelling with love and a bittersweet yearning. She was the living embodiment of his heart, and as he gazed at her, he whispered a vow into the stillness of the night. He promised to love her with all his might, carrying the weight of both his love and the part of you that would forever reside in their lives. In that quiet moment, amidst the echoes of his promises, he felt a fragile sense of peace, knowing that as long as he held her, he was keeping your memory alive.

이민호 ── LEE MINHO.

Minho lay in the dim, soft glow of his bedroom, shadows whispering across the walls as the twins slept peacefully beside him. Their tiny forms had claimed your side of the bed, filling the void where your presence once brought warmth and comfort. The night he returned home with the babies, he had attempted to sleep alone, but the emptiness was unbearable. He tossed and turned, haunted by the silence, until one of the babies began to cry, inevitably waking the other. In his desperation to soothe them, he gathered every pillow he could find, crafting a makeshift crib in his bed. Their delicate features softened in the calm of his presence, and they finally drifted off to sleep.

As Minho gazed at their angelic faces, hands entwined even in slumber, his heart ached with the weight of your absence. How could he begin to process this loss? You had spent almost ten months nurturing these little miracles, only to be taken away before you could revel in the beauty of their existence. Ten months of creating life, and you would never witness the serene way they held hands in their sleep. Ten months of dreams and hopes, and you would miss their first birthdays, graduations, weddings. It was unbearably cruel, and Minho’s soul was tormented by the thought.

You wouldn’t even be here to laugh about the pregnancy mix-up that had both of you convinced it would be a boy and a girl, only to welcome two beautiful baby girls into the world. His friends had offered to stay and help, but he had declined, needing the solitude to grapple with his grief. Now, in the stillness of the night, he questioned if he had made the right choice.

Tears welled up and spilled down his cheeks as the full weight of his new reality settled over him. He was to raise these precious little princesses on his own, and the responsibility felt crushing. Yet, as he watched their peaceful slumber, he knew he had to summon every ounce of strength for them. They were his world now, the living, breathing remnants of your love. He vowed to cherish them, to love them fiercely, and to guide them through life with unwavering dedication, for they were all he had left of you, and he was all they had.

In the hushed silence, he whispered promises into the night, pledging to be the best father he could be. He would ensure they knew how deeply you loved them, even if you couldn’t be there to tell them yourself. And as he held them close, feeling the rise and fall of their tiny chests, a fragile peace washed over him. He knew that in every laugh, every tear, and every milestone, you would be there in spirit, guiding him, loving them, always.

서창빈 ── SEO CHANGBIN.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the park as Changbin and his 13-year-old son sat on a weathered wooden bench, savoring their ice cream. The park buzzed with the laughter of children, their joy mingling with the gentle rustle of leaves in the summer breeze. Parents lounged on the grass, basking in the last light of day, while Changbin watched his son’s face light up with a blush as he received a message.

Changbin couldn’t resist teasing him. "Who’s got you smiling like that?" he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

His son’s cheeks reddened further, and he looked away, trying to hide his smile. "Just a girl from school," he mumbled, glancing at his phone. "She texted to congratulate me on today’s soccer game."

Changbin’s interest was piqued. "A girl, huh? Do you like her?" he inquired gently, but his son just rolled his eyes, keeping his thoughts to himself.

After a while, his son broke the comfortable silence with a question that took Changbin by surprise. "Dad, how did you know Mom was the one for you?"

Changbin's heart swelled with a bittersweet mix of love and nostalgia. He took a deep breath, the memory washing over him like a tender wave. "Well," he began softly, "it was before you were born. Your mom and I had only been dating for a few months. One evening, we decided to take a ride on my motorcycle to grab some food. On the way back, she spotted a bookstore and got all excited. She tapped my shoulder and pointed it out, her eyes sparkling like a child's. I couldn't say no to that."

He smiled, lost in the memory. "We stopped, and I handed her my card, telling her to get whatever she wanted. She promised she’d come out empty-handed, but I knew better." He chuckled, remembering your sheepish yet triumphant expression as you emerged with a bag hidden behind your back. "She ended up buying two books and couldn’t stop talking about them, her excitement contagious. When I told her I was glad she found something, she did this little dance of joy before climbing back onto the bike. She had to hold the bag since her backpack was already stuffed with our food, but she was too happy to care."

Changbin’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. "That’s when I knew she was the one. It wasn’t some grand gesture; it was her pure joy in the little things, her passion for life. I wish you could have known her. She loved you so much, even before you were born."

His son’s eyes mirrored his own longing and admiration. "I wish I’d known her too," he said softly. "My goal in life is to find my soulmate, like you found Mom. I want to love someone as much as you loved her."

Changbin’s heart ached with pride and sorrow. "You deserve to have someone by your side for a long time," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, "Who knows, maybe this girl from school is your one."

His son groaned, a playful smile tugging at his lips as he nudged Changbin, causing his ice cream to topple onto the ground. Changbin laughed, a deep, hearty sound that echoed through the park. His own ice cream slipped from his grasp, joining his son’s on the pavement, and they both burst into laughter, the joy of the moment a soothing balm to their hearts.

In that golden hour, surrounded by the simple pleasures of ice cream and shared memories, Changbin felt a profound sense of peace. Despite the heartache and loss, he and his son would continue to find love and joy in the little things, just as you had taught him. And in those moments of laughter and connection, he felt your presence with them, a silent guardian watching over their journey, smiling at their shared happiness.

황현진 ── HWANG HYUNJIN.

Hyunjin sat alone in the dimly lit room, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden hue over the familiar surroundings. The air was thick with memories, each piece of furniture and every stroke of paint a testament to the love and labor he had shared with you. His heart ached with a bittersweet nostalgia as he looked around, his mind filled with the echoes of laughter and the whispers of cherished moments.

He remembered the countless hours spent building the furniture, the frustration and triumph mingling as he struggled with stubborn screws, while you sat nearby, reading the instructions with a patience that never failed to calm him. The nursery walls, painted in a tapestry of happy themes, bore the marks of your combined artistic talents, creating a sanctuary for the new life you both awaited with eager anticipation.

The night he returned home with the baby, your absence a gaping void beside him, was etched into his soul. He had sat in the rocking chair, the one he had bought especially for you, cradling the fragile bundle in his arms, paralyzed by the fear of being alone. Many nights, he had dozed off in that chair, too afraid to leave its comforting embrace, haunted by the silence that your departure had left behind.

A wistful smile tugged at his lips as he recalled the day he found your child drawing on the walls, their tiny hands busy creating a colorful mural over your delicate paintings. It had pained him to see your work altered, but the sight of their concentrated little face, so much like yours, had softened his heart. He had chosen to let them be creative, to express themselves freely, even if it meant sacrificing a piece of you.

He thought of the time his six-year-old had cried in his arms, their tiny body trembling with confusion and hurt because they didn't fit in with the boys or the girls. Hyunjin had held them close, whispering reassurances, his heart breaking at the familiar pain. It had been a long journey, but he had worked tirelessly to make their home a sanctuary of love and acceptance.

The memories came in a flood, each one a cherished gem: the summer in middle school when they returned home with bags of new clothes and put on a fashion show, proudly displaying their androgynous style; the pride parade, where he meticulously placed sticky rainbow gems on their face, their giddy excitement lighting up the day; and finally, the day they graduated and moved out, leaving behind an empty room filled with the ghosts of the past.

Tears rolled down Hyunjin’s face as he sat in the rocking chair, now old and creaky, thinking of all the moments he had cherished yet wished he could have shared with you. The weight of the memories pressed down on him, a heavy, inescapable burden.

Suddenly, his phone rang, startling him from his reverie. He hastily wiped his tears and saw it was a FaceTime call from his child. He answered, and their beaming face filled the screen, the excitement in their eyes mirrored by the twinkling fairy lights in their new apartment's bedroom.

“Hey, Dad! Look at my new room!” they exclaimed, panning the camera around to show off their new space, their voice bubbling with pride and joy.

Hyunjin’s heart swelled with pride and love. “It looks amazing, sweetheart,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

“I miss you,” they confessed, their eyes shining with unshed tears. “Can we spend the first night together, through the phone?”

Hyunjin chuckled softly, trying to mask his lingering sadness. “Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of moving out?”

They laughed, a sound that was pure and unfiltered joy. “Maybe, but I know you’re in my old room crying already.”

He laughed too, the heaviness lifting just a bit. “You got me there.”

They didn’t hang up, staying connected through the screen as the night deepened. Hyunjin lay back in the rocking chair, his child propped up in their new bed, both finding solace in the familiar presence of each other. As they talked and laughed, Hyunjin realized that though you weren’t physically there, your spirit lived on in these moments, in the love that continued to bind them together. And for now, that was enough.

한지성 ── HAN JISUNG.

Jisung found his seven-year-old child hidden within the treehouse that the three of you had built together. This small wooden sanctuary, once filled with laughter and joy, now bore the heavy weight of sorrow. They were still in their funeral attire, the black clothes contrasting sharply against the soft glow of the setting sun. The murmurs of the guests lingering in the backyard became a distant, indistinct hum as Jisung climbed into the treehouse, his heart burdened with grief and a simmering anger at the universe for taking you away so cruelly.

His son's youthful face was etched with a grief that seemed too profound for such a young soul. Jisung felt a surge of helplessness as he reached out, pulling his child close, wrapping him in an embrace meant to shield him from the cruel world outside. “I miss Mom,” came the soft, heart-wrenching whisper, each word a dagger to Jisung’s already shattered heart.

“I miss Mom too,” Jisung murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. They sat together in silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on them like an insurmountable force.

It had been nearly a year since you had fallen ill, the sickness so severe that the doctors had given you only a few months at most. Yet, you had defied their grim prognosis, your spirit burning brightly despite the frailty of your body. Jisung remembered the countless nights spent by your side, swallowing his fears and anger as you spoke of your impending death with a calm acceptance that had always made him furious. To him, it felt as though you had given up, but he knew deep down that wasn’t the case. You hadn’t wanted to waste what little time you had left fighting an unwinnable battle. Perhaps if he had truly listened, if he had embraced those fleeting moments instead of railing against them, he might have cherished your final days more deeply.

His son, too young to fully grasp the concept of death, struggled with the finality of it all. He understood that you would never return, yet accepting it was a different matter entirely. Jisung’s heart broke anew each time he saw the confusion and sorrow in his child’s eyes, a mirror of his own torment.

Holding his son tighter, Jisung wished he could find the right words to ease the pain, to make sense of a world that had suddenly lost its light. But words failed him, crumbled under the weight of their shared grief. Instead, he let the silence speak, hoping the strength of his embrace could convey the love and comfort his words could not.

The treehouse, once a symbol of their shared joy, now held their sorrow. The walls, which had echoed with laughter and dreams, now seemed to absorb their pain, standing as silent witnesses to their loss. But within this small, sacred space, surrounded by the memories of happier times, Jisung hoped they could begin to heal. He would be there for his son, a steadfast presence in the storm of their grief, guiding him through the darkness with a love that, while tested, remained unbroken.

As the last light of day faded, Jisung held his son close, both finding a semblance of solace in each other’s presence. In the quiet, grief-stricken aftermath, they began to forge a new bond, one tempered by loss but strengthened by their enduring love. And in that silent communion, Jisung found a glimmer of hope that they would eventually find their way through the darkness together.

이용복 ── LEE YONGBOK.

In a home where the relentless energy of three young girls and their single father painted every day with hues of joyous chaos, peace was a fleeting visitor. The air thrummed with the symphony of exuberant laughter, the vibrant discord of simultaneous chatter, and the relentless rhythm of youthful exuberance. Yongbok would never trade this tempestuous world for anything, yet a hollow ache lingered for the presence of the one who had been the steady heartbeat of their lives.

Your sudden departure had cast a profound shadow over their once lively abode, transforming it into a quieter realm where your laughter’s echoes were replaced by an oppressive silence. As time wove its delicate fabric over the jagged edges of grief, the house gradually adjusted to a new cadence, yet the weight of your absence hung heavy in every corner.

Despite this, Yongbok discovered fragments of you embedded within the fabric of their daily lives. He saw your essence in the selfless nurturing of his eldest daughter, who had seamlessly stepped into the role of co-caregiver. Her quiet acts of love and responsibility were a poignant echo of the devotion you had always shown, a continuation of your spirit in her every gesture.

In the middle child’s vibrant monologues about obscure topics, Yongbok glimpsed your enduring influence. Her unquenchable thirst for knowledge mirrored the intellectual curiosity you had nurtured, each passionate explanation a living testament to your legacy.

The youngest, with her mischievous gleam and boundless spirit, kept Yongbok perpetually on his toes. Her playful antics and joyful mischief were a vivid reminder of the vivacity you had infused into their home, a living echo of the light you had brought into their lives.

In the quiet moments, Yongbok could still feel your presence. The post-it notes left in his lunch bag by his eldest daughter, each inscribed with a simple message of love, were imbued with your warmth. The tender strokes of his middle daughter’s fingers through his hair during their movie nights were a silent connection to you. And in the gentle inquiries of his youngest, her head peeking around the door to ensure he was alright, he felt the deep compassion you had instilled in her.

Though you were absent from the milestones and daily rhythms, your essence lived on through them. In the small, tender acts of affection and love, you continued to be a cherished part of their lives, an enduring presence in their hearts.

김승민 ── KIM SEUNGMIN.

Seungmin had been absent through the vast expanse of your pregnancy, the relentless demands of touring keeping him away. He returned just in time to witness the birth, only to be swallowed by the crushing weight of your absence. The pain of missing those precious moments with you, of not being there to share in the miracle of your last days, was a wound that never healed. This haunting regret followed him, a constant reminder of a future lost.

The day you passed, Seungmin left Stray Kids, unable to bear the weight of the stage without you by his side. He couldn’t find solace in the bright lights or the rhythms of his music. Instead, he focused on his two sons—an older one, now sixteen, and a younger one, now twelve. The older boy, once a vibrant spirit, had retreated into the shadows of his room, his once lively demeanor replaced by a sullen silence. The baseball games that had once bound them together now lay abandoned, and Seungmin, despite the storm within, knew he had to reach out.

Determined to bridge the chasm that had grown between them, Seungmin planned a day just for the two of them. He left the youngest with his closest friend, Jeongin, and took his older son out. The car ride was a quiet procession of unspoken thoughts, the weight of their shared grief hanging heavily between them. When they finally arrived at their destination, Seungmin braced himself, ready to face the tender fracture of their relationship.

It took patience, but eventually, the silence broke. The older boy revealed his feelings for a boy at school, emotions that he struggled to understand. Seungmin was taken aback, but he remained calm, his heart aching with a blend of surprise and concern. As his son’s tears fell freely, Seungmin pulled him into a tender embrace, his own heart aching with a mixture of empathy and love. He whispered reassurances into his son’s hair, promising acceptance and protection, vowing to stand by him no matter what.

The boy, still tearful but comforted, then showed Seungmin a small journal. Inside was a song he had penned, a poignant melody woven with the threads of his conflicted feelings for the boy at school. The song was hauntingly beautiful, a reflection of his son’s delicate soul and burgeoning talent. Seungmin’s heart swelled with pride and love as he listened, recognizing the echoes of his own musical spirit in his child’s creation.

As the day drew to a close, Seungmin received a snapshot from Jeongin—his youngest child, covered in dirt and beaming with the joy of a day spent playing baseball. The image was a burst of pure happiness, a vivid reminder that even amidst the sorrow, moments of light and joy persisted.

As the sun set, Seungmin felt a renewed connection with his older son, a fragile yet precious bond rekindled through their shared experiences and heartfelt conversation. Though the regret of not being there for you lingered, he found solace in the fact that he was striving to be the father you would have been proud of. In the quiet moments of the evening, he hoped, with all his heart, that wherever you were, you watched over them and felt a deep pride in the man he was becoming—a father striving to honor your memory through the love and strength he gave to your family.

양정인 ── JANG JEONGIN.

Jeongin’s youngest daughter was a restless spirit, her stubborn yet carefree nature a constant reminder of the love she once shared with you. Each burst of laughter, every defiant flicker of joy, was a living echo of your vibrant presence. In contrast, his oldest son was a mirror of Jeongin’s own meticulous nature, his life meticulously ordered, each ambition carefully planned.

Lately, Jeongin’s heart had been heavy with worry. His daughter, brimming with reckless exuberance, frequently dashed off to meet a boy Jeongin knew was unworthy. The thought of her entangled with someone without a future gnawed at him, leaving him adrift in a sea of concern. As he lay awake at night, the silence seemed to taunt him, and he often found himself wondering how you would have navigated these troubled waters if you had still been there to guide them.

One night, as the moonlight spilled softly through the window, Jeongin was wrenched from sleep by the unmistakable sound of muffled sobs. His heart raced as he followed the cries to his daughter’s room. He paused at the door, the murmur of his son’s voice cutting through the silence. The room, once a sanctuary of dreams, was now a cocoon of whispered regrets and stifled tears. His daughter’s voice wavered with the weight of her shame, confessing her feelings of foolishness for having trusted the boy. His son, with a soothing calmness that mirrored your gentle strength, reassured her that she wasn’t foolish, merely swept up in the exhilarating tide of young love. He told her she deserved better than a boy with no future, his words a soft balm to her wounded spirit.

Jeongin’s heart ached with a mixture of pride and sorrow as he heard his son’s comforting tones, the echoes of your nurturing spirit resonating in his voice. After a few moments, he gathered the courage to step into the room. His eyes were tender with understanding as he took in the scene: his daughter’s tear-streaked face, her hands buried in her lap. Her cries grew louder as she saw him, her embarrassment palpable as she shielded her face with her hands.

Jeongin knelt before her, his expression a blend of love and compassion. Gently, he reached for her hands, drawing them away from her face to hold them in his own. His touch was a lifeline, a silent promise of unwavering support.

“You told me so, I know,” she choked out, her voice a trembling whisper.

“I would never say that, my love,” Jeongin murmured, his voice rich with tenderness. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her close against his chest. His gaze met his son’s, a shared understanding passing between them.

“I know it hurts,” Jeongin whispered into her hair, his voice a soothing melody against her ear, “but this isn’t the end.” His embrace was a warm cocoon, a sanctuary of love amidst the storm of her emotions. The night unfolded in a delicate tapestry of comfort and hope, a testament to the enduring love that bound them together, even in the quiet absence of your guiding presence.

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